#also big thanks to whoever decided to put him on a white t-shirt showing so much chest all the time

[kennethbrangh]

Ian McShane in Lovejoy (Season 1, Episode 1)

[jadequeen88]

Accidental Valentine

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This is my fic for The Citrus Dome Server Lover’s Day Literature Collab! Please go check out The Masterlist and support all of the amazing artists and writers that have contributed.🖤

A/N: WHEW guys... I don’t think I’ve put this much work into a fic EVER. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about my body and wanted to write a reader who struggled with it as well. Who better to boost your confidence than DILF Kiri feeding your praise kink?! I was heavily influenced by this amazing drabble by @rat-suki​ and got permission to use it as my inspiration for this fic.🖤 (for reference, reader is 30 and Kirishima is 42)

Thanks to @afictionalwhore and my dear friend Orchid for the beta read!🖤

RetiredProHero!Kirishima x YoungerF!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: size difference, oral (both receiving), daddy kink, praise kink (lots and lots of praise), TBH the sex is pretty vanilla but very passionate, both are insecure about their bodies.

When you trudged into work this morning, you didn’t ever dream of meeting your childhood idol/crush, but here you are, staring up at a beautiful mountain of a man. Eijiro Kirishima, or retired pro hero Red Riot, had never come into your coffee shop before and you’d never imagined he would. He was huge. Nearly 7 ft tall and built like a brick house. His hair was back to his natural black with flecks of silver at his temples and hung long and wild around his shoulders. He had on a pair of glasses and wore a dark maroon sweater and jeans.

Even though he’s aged, he looks just as handsome as the young man you fell for as a girl.

The year he made his debut, you were only six, and like most other six-year-olds, you idolized the pro heroes. Most of your friends loved Deku or Dynamite, but you always loved Red Riot. His smile, warmth, and his fiercely protective nature made your tiny heart burst with admiration. Throughout his hero career, you kept up with all of his interviews, the battles he’d been in, the awards he’d won, and his hero rankings. You’d also gotten as much merch as possible over the years and still wore your worn-out, oversized Red Riot t-shirt to sleep in. When he retired a couple of years ago, you still scanned articles online trying to gather bits and pieces of information about the hero, but he wasn’t one to seek out the spotlight. You think that’s probably why he’d always been your favorite. He was a true hero. Serving the citizens and keeping them safe was his top priority. You didn’t want to admit it, but you kept up with him for one main reason… You wanted to know if he was seeing anyone.

You remember being eaten up with jealousy when you’d see his arm around another woman going to galas and award ceremonies. Your sixteen-year-old brain knew that of course, he’d date women. He was a grown man and a pro hero. But your heart would ache, wanting to be the one his soft eyes and pointy-toothed grin was fixed on.

Now those same eyes were fixed on you, his mouth moving and forming words, but you were too star-struck to hear what he was saying. When you snapped out of your daze and remembered you were supposed to be taking his order, you were mortified.

“I-I’m so sorry sir! Could you please repeat that?”

“Sure thing!” his bright smile was hypnotizing, “Just a venti-sized flat white. Have you had your coffee yet? Ya looked a little far away there for a second, kid.”

Your heart leaped at the little nickname. “Yeah, sorry about that! I guess I should get a couple of shots of espresso in me before I try to be productive.” You chuckle nervously as you scribble his order on the cup and turn to make his drink.

“Oh, uhh…” he peeks around the counter to get your attention, “Do you need my name? For the order?”

You freeze realizing you forgot basic, barista 101 etiquette…

“Actually,” you face him, a sheepish grin on your face, avoiding eye contact, “I know your name. You… umm, were my favorite hero,” you blush, and your eyes widen in embarrassment, “you know when I was a kid...”

You turn back to your work, kicking yourself for being so awkward. 

“Really? I think you’re the first person to recognize me since ya know,” he circled his head with his pointer finger, “I stopped dying my hair..”

You turned your head to peer up at him through your dark lashes, a light dusting of blush still on your cheeks, “Well, I like it. It looks good on you.”

The retired pro’s heart was bursting at how damned cute you were. Was this pretty, young girl… embarrassed? Over him?! He watched your tiny hands move as they worked on his drink order, wondering how small they’d feel grasped in his massive ones. Your soft hair caught in the sunlight making you look like a literal angel and he sighed. You reached up to grab a canister from the top shelf and a sliver of soft skin between your t-shirt and jeans peeked through. His gaze became far away and he damn near drooled at the sight. Just how long had it been since he’d touched another woman? Kirishima wasn’t one for casual flings. He always got too invested in whoever he was seeing. So when he and his long-time girlfriend broke things off a couple of years ago, he wasn’t rushing back into the dating scene.

However, things were a little more… complicated than just not finding the right girl to commit to. He was getting older and it was starting to show. Over the past few years, he’d lost his confidence. He’s bulkier around the middle no matter what workouts or diets he tries. Overuse of his quirk has caused stretchmarks and scars all over his skin. He was starting to get crow’s feet and he was overall just TOO big and TOO hairy. He felt like some sort of gorilla walking around in human clothing. Kirishima isn’t stupid or trying to fool himself. A young, gorgeous thing like you wasn’t looking for anything from an old, washed-up man like him. But, fuck… It was nearly impossible for him to move his gaze away from your ass… Oh, the things he’d do to you if he were a few years younger...

You turned to look over your shoulder and notice his gaze… and it’s apparent that he’s checking you out. He looks like a man starved, eyes glued to your ass.

“Well, well, well… maybe he wasn’t so annoyed with my fangirling after all.”

When he realized you’d gone still, his eyes met yours and he quickly averted his gaze. His cheeks turned as red as his hair used to be. You busied yourself with the milk steamer to hide your big, goofy grin. With a new burst of confidence, you decide to take a chance and when you go to write his name on his to-go cup, you write

 “Big Red <3” 

You pause, bite your lip, and think to yourself, “why the hell not?” as you scribble your number underneath the nickname. You turn to give him his drink and your nerves almost make you retreat and make a whole new drink. Then he meets your gaze and your world stops spinning. His vermillion eyes crinkle at the edges as his scared lips turn upwards into a syrupy sweet smile.

When Kirishima takes his drink from you, your fingers brush his for the briefest second and he can tell they’re trembling. “Oh no, I hope I haven’t made her nervous or uncomfortable.” He wanted to go crawl in a hole… That was until he saw what you’d written on his cup.

He stammers, looking from the cup to your face like he’s checking to see if you’re pulling a prank on him or not. Before he can say anything, you bite your lip and look up at him. 

“I’m off work this Sunday. Just… if you’d like to hang out or something.” your gaze shifts and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

After a moment or two, his face lights up in a huge grin. “Y-yeah, great!” he turns and walks a few steps, then turns around and motions at the cup, “So… I should just, ahh… text you?”

You giggle and it’s the sweetest sound he’s heard in a long time, “That would be nice, yeah.”

“Okay, great!... Talk later then!” He waves and leaves the coffee shop, feeling light as a feather and ten years younger.

*****

Sunday rolls around and you spend the morning making sure the place is cleaner than it’s been in weeks. Your place was small but cozy. For a fleeting moment, you’re a little insecure about how modest your apartment is. You don’t know exactly how wealthy pros are when they retire, but you know he’s more familiar with much nicer places than yours. You decide he probably knew just what to expect on a barista’s salary and tried to put it out of your mind. You checked on the cookies baking in the oven. When you found out through your text conversations that he loved chocolate chip cookies with the large chunks of dark chocolate baked in, you went out and bought everything to make them the same day. You kept watching over them like a hawk to avoid burning them. They still looked pretty gooey, so you decided it would be safe to get changed into something a little nicer. Just as you were about to turn the corner into your bedroom, your doorbell rang.

“Shit!” you looked at your phone and sure enough, you let time get away from you. He was here and you were still in your cropped leggings and t-shirt, sporting a messy bun and dirty apron. You groaned as you realized you couldn’t leave him on your doorstep while you changed. Defeated, you hurried to the door.

You opened the door, hoping that you at least didn’t have flour in your hair, and looked up into the much larger man’s eyes. The realization that THE Red Riot was standing this close to you made your stomach flutter and a goofy grin slide across your face. While you stood there star-struck, he broke the silence.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here!”

“Oh!” you jumped a little then promptly ran over to your oven, “Sorry! Please come on in!” you said over your shoulder as you were pulling your oven mitts on. 

Kirishima walked into your cozy apartment and instantly felt at ease. He couldn’t pinpoint just what it was, but something about your place felt more like home than any place he’d ever lived before. As he finished scanning your apartment, his eyes landed on you taking the cookies out of the oven. The comfortable, domestic feel of the place coupled with your ass on full display as you bent down to remove the cookies from the oven had his jeans tightening. You stood up and he averted his gaze before you turned around, not wanting to get caught checking your ass out for a second time.

“Fair warning, I’m not a talented baker by any means,” you removed your oven mitts after placing the cookie sheets on the cooling rack and flashed a sly grin his way, “But when Red Riot tells you what his favorite cookies are… Ya kinda gotta make them, right?”

Oh… If you only knew how pent up this man was… he debated bending you over right then and there and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. He really hit the jackpot with you… a hot, younger woman with the perfect ass who bakes him cookies and for some reason thinks he hung the moon? Kirishima would have given you a ring right then and there if he didn’t think it would scare you off.

“Well,” he radiated warmth as he looked between you and the cookies cooling on the rack, “If you’re not the sweetest thing! I, ahh… might have gotten you a little something too.” he then held up a 6 pack of your favorite cider. “Because when Y/N, L/N tells you what her favorite cider is… Ya kinda gotta get her some.” he winked and you felt your knees buckle and your cheeks burn. You felt like you were in a fairytale.

Then you remembered that the princesses in fairytales definitely did not wear flour-riddled black leggings, old t-shirts, and dirty aprons.

“OH! Umm, I need to go get cleaned up. I’ll only be a minu-” his massive hand wrapped around your wrist as you walked past him. It covered half of your forearm and a shudder ran through you. You wanted those giant hands to roam every inch of your body.

“Please don’t,” his eyes were half-lidded and his voice was low, “...I think you look beautiful like this.” his calloused thumb traced little circles on your skin not meeting your gaze. His deep voice was impossibly tender.

Now that you’d felt his skin on yours, you couldn’t contain your churning desires any longer. You wanted, needed, more. Rising up on your tiptoes, you curled your fist into Kirishima’s shirt collar and pulled his face toward yours.

You felt him tense up for a moment, then relax into the kiss. His massive hands found purchase on your hips, digging into the pliant flesh there. A needy whimper caught in his throat spurring you on to deepen the kiss. 

It was like your bodies were working around each other in perfect harmony… lips parting at a slow pace, like honey dripping from the edge of a spoon and tongues meeting in the middle to taste each other. You both savored the kiss for as long as you could, eyes lazily drifting open and shared breaths causing your hearts to dance out of your chests. 

You saw him falter, his gaze dropping, and you feared that you overstepped. 

“Kirishima I-“

“Ejiro,” he stopped you with a hand against your cheek, “Call me Eijiro…” his thumb caressed your bottom lip slowly, back and forth. His touch held so much devotion in it.

“Eijiro…” you sighed, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “I need you…”

The giant of a man before you swept you up into his arms and began walking down your hallway. You quickly wrapped your arms and legs around his hulking frame as if you were climbing a tree. 

“Second door on the right,” you were panting into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it. 

You blew a cool stream of air along his damp skin and felt him shudder. A giggle bubbled up from your chest at being able to weaken a retired pro-hero known for being a human shield against the worst villains Japan has ever known. Your little stunt resulted in a grunt and a firm, warning squeeze to your thigh.

“So that’s what we’re doing today, huh?” he tosses you on the bed just hard enough to make you bounce up a little… then he’s on you, placing light kisses all along your neck as he prods your sides looking for a ticklish spot. You can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard and the fact that it was your idol drawing it from you made you dizzy with joy.

“Mercy! Mercy!” you were breathless and your abdomen ached from the forceful laughs Ejiro was pulling from you. He blew a raspberry on your neck as a final tease then relented, sitting up to meet your gaze.

You were absolutely smitten. You caressed the lines around his eyes and the scar that split his lips as your eyes roamed across his features. Every crease, every scar… you wanted to kiss them all. When his gaze faltered and he pulled away to sit beside you on the bed, the feeling you’d done something wrong resurfaced. You sat up beside him and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Eijiro…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry, I know I can come on a little strong sometimes, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just…” your eyes meet and his gaze is unreadable.

“No, no…” his ruby eyes drop to the floor, “It’s just that,” he chuckles nervously, “Well, it’s been a while. I’m not very good with casual flings and the like. So I don’t really date much…”

You rise to your feet and move to stand in front of him. Sitting in front of you on your bed, you’re only slightly below eye level with him. You place your tiny hands on his thick thighs and nudge them apart so you can slot your hips between them.

“When I told you that you were my favorite hero,” you reach for his wrist and remove the hair tie from it, “What that actually meant was that I’d watch the news every day just to make sure you were safe.” 

Slender fingers move through his wild mane of silver-flecked hair untangling any knots, “It meant that when that villain with the sludge quirk put you in the hospital for a couple of days, my mom let me stay home from school because I was so distraught,” you pulled all of his untangled hair to the nape of his neck and began wrapping the hair tie around it.

“It meant that my silly sixteen-year-old heart would ache when I saw you hand in hand with a girl in a magazine going out on a date,” you grinned at how silly you felt admitting that. Once his hair was secured in a low ponytail, your hands trailed along his broad shoulders.

“Now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I’ll get to the point.” your intense gaze held years of longing for the hero in front of you, “Nothing about this is casual for me.”

Tears pricked the corners of Kirishima’s eyes. Had anyone ever showed him this much tender devotion? All the years he’d taken beating after beating, a glorified human shield, content with leaving most of the game to his friends. He was all rough edges and bulk. He was the one doing the protecting every time. Even in his romantic relationships, he was the one who would give, and give, and give… never asking or expecting to be taken care of. Being handled with such care was utterly foreign to him and it stirred up a deep need he never knew was there.

“Eji…” his glassy eyes met yours, “Can I take care of you?” you sank to your knees, hands sliding up his thighs.

“Please…”

Your hands made quick work of his button and zipper. He shifted his hips upwards to help you ease his jeans down his thick thighs and you pulled his jeans and boxers down in one slow pull. Nothing would have prepared you for just how huge he was. Your eyes widened for a fraction of a second, wondering how you’d get that thing to fit inside your cunt, much less your mouth… but it was something you were eager to find out.

Looking up at him from under your dark lashes, you made a show of lewdly licking your lips. You flattened your tongue and drug the wet muscle from his base right above his neatly trimmed patch of black hair, all the way to the swollen, red tip of his head. You felt the powerful muscles in his thighs clench as his head rolled back and a delicious moan escaped his open mouth. Making your hero come undone with one lick to his cock was intoxicating. 

“Fuck, baby…” Kirishima fisted the sheets praying he wouldn’t come just from your teasing. He’s not sure his pride could handle it. It became a very real threat when he dared to look down at you kissing and licking all up and down his length. Once your mouth had gotten him wet enough, your soft hands joined your warm mouth in worshiping his cock. You met his gaze as you kissed his tip and licked up the pre that was escaping in pearlescent beads. When you had teased him to your contentment, you swallowed him down as deep as your throat would allow, wrapped your hand around his base, and moaned.

Kirishima had many blowjobs in his life. In fact, he’d had some that he would say were pretty amazing… but in all his adult life, he’d never been so thoroughly and enthusiastically devoured like this. He threaded his fingers of one hand in your loose bun and fisted your bed sheets in his other to ground himself. After a minute or two, he felt his release creeping up much faster than he wanted.

He placed his hands on either side of your face causing you to stop bobbing your head and look up at him. He ran his thumb against your swollen bottom lip and you leaned into his tender touch. He bends forward and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Lay down on the bed,” he whispers into your hair. Nerves starting to catch up to you, you shook slightly as you stood from your spot on the floor. Before you lay down, you remember to take your apron off then lay on your pillows, heart pounding awaiting further instruction.

Kirishima hovers over you reminding you yet again just how tiny you are compared to him. His warm hand covers your knee and slowly travels up your thigh, stopping right before he meets your throbbing core. He runs his hand back down your thigh to gently nudge your knees apart. Leaning on his forearms, he positions himself between your thighs and you gasp at the friction created where your bodies meet. While planting tender kisses on your neck, he whispers, “I need you to promise that you’ll tell me if I need to stop or if something doesn’t feel okay. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes…” you moan as he nibbles on your earlobe, teasing with his sharp teeth but not breaking your skin.

“Mmm,” he places sweet kisses all along your jaw, your breath catching in your throat, “Good girl.”

Receiving praise from him made your chest swell. You wanted nothing more than to please this man you were rapidly falling for. He sat up, legs folded under his body, and slowly slid his hands under the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You felt his hands still on your stomach and looked up from where you were laying on your pillows to see what had made him freeze.

He met your gaze with a devilish grin, “Baby girl…” his thumbs run small circles on your skin, “Did you wear this for me?” 

When you realize what he’s talking about, you hide your face and groan into your hands. You completely forgot that you were still in your old Red Riot t-shirt that you usually slept in. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!” you mumbled behind your palms.

Kirishima chuckled and shushed you, “No, no, no… This is the sexiest thing you could have possibly worn.” He pulls the hem of your t-shirt up to expose your tummy, burying his face in the soft skin there. Gentle kisses were placed all along the waistline of your leggings, every squishy part and every little stretchmark that decorated your skin like tiny spiderwebs were lovingly caressed with his plush lips. Having the part of your body you were the most self-conscious of worshiped like this felt more vulnerable than sex.

As the kisses traveled higher, they became sloppier and more desperate. You lifted your arms to allow him to remove your shirt, exposing your plain white cotton bra. The feel of his stubble against your skin as he moaned into your cleavage sent shivers down your body. Instead of paying attention to your neglected nipples, his warm mouth carved a path up the column of your throat, head thrown back to give him as much access as possible.

Kirishima whispered against the tender skin under your earlobe, “This okay, baby?” two large fingers dip into the front of your leggings. You nod enthusiastically, unable to form a coherent answer, “Mmm… I need words, sweet thing. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes… it’s more than okay,” your chests are touching as he works his hand down the front of your pants.

When Kirishima’s thick fingers slid between your drenched folds, you arched your back and grasped his forearm. Slowly, he spread your slick around, dancing past your clit with each stroke. His teasing was turning you into a whimpering mess underneath him. 

He had all the time in the world and having you melt underneath his touch was the best way he could hope to spend it. After what felt like an eternity of him gently brushing against you, only slightly dipping into your needy hole and barely grazing your clit, you were openly panting and whining. A steady stream of praises flowed from his lips.

“You’re such a pretty girl… such a pretty little pussy.”

“Look at how wet you are for me. Like this, huh? My pretty girl likes my fingers teasing her?”

“I can’t wait to lick my fingers clean. You’re gonna taste so sweet.”

You were so worked up that tears began to form in your eyes, “Eji… I-“

“Hmm? What is it, baby girl? Need something?” His finger drags around your clit slowly, adding a fraction more pressure. 

“Please, I need more Eji,” your nails digging into his forearm were leaving little crescents in his thick skin.

“Sweet girl,” he meets your mouth with a slow, wet kiss, “you can have whatever you want.”

Without hesitation, he sits up and pulls your leggings down with your panties. A groan rattles his large chest when he sees a thread of your slick attached to the crotch. Once his face is buried in between your thighs, it’s a real possibility he might come just from eating you out. 

All the teasing had brought him to the edge as well and he was out of patience. With a few hurried kisses to each thigh, he dove into your dripping cleft. His tongue plunged into your core as he nudged his nose into your puffy clit. 

You cry out and convulse around his face. His arms wrap around your thighs, firmly but gently holding your legs open to give him full access to eat you as thoroughly as possible. When he moves to suck your clit, you know you won’t last much longer. As he nurses on your sensitive nub, you feel the familiar tightening in your lower body. He picks up on this and moans into your skin as he greedily sucks. 

“Ahh… Ahh, I’m- I’m gonna….”

“Oh that’s it,” he encourages you by praising you and massaging your thighs in his massive hands, “let me have it, baby girl. Come on, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Your toes curl and back arches as you’re thrown over the edge. “Oh FUCK!! Coming, coming…. ooooh god… ahh D-daddy!…”

“Daddy, is it? Goddamn”

Kirishima felt his dick twitch and his breath caught in his throat.

He wipes his face on the back of his hands and makes a show of licking his fingers clean as he leans over you, nose touching yours.

“What was that baby?” His voice was strained as he pressed his dick into the warm, damp skin of your thigh…

You bat your lashes and ghost your lips over his as you whisper, “Daddy… please let me ride you. I need you inside me.” The nail in Kirishima’s coffin was when you licked his bottom lip then quickly followed with a chaste kiss.

You waste no time wrapping your thighs around his waist and twisting. He follows your lead and lays flat on his back letting you straddle him. You grab the hem of his shirt and similarly tease him, leaving a trail of kisses along his broad stomach. Kirishima flinches a little, self-conscious of his skin and how soft his middle had gotten over the years. You meet his eyes as you pull his shirt over his broad shoulders and run your hands back down his body. 

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” hands and eyes roamed over the expanse of skin in front of you, “It’s even better than in my dreams.”

He wondered for the hundredth time how got this lucky. You really loved his body? Maybe… maybe he wasn’t in as bad of shape as he thought…

“No,” his hands rubbed your hips, kneading your soft skin, “You’re better than I’d ever hoped to find.” He sits upon the headboard and pulls you closer into his lap, “Now,” he pulls your hair free of the messy bun, “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock?”

You lift your hips and place his tip at your entrance. That alone caused a delicious stretch and you knew it would be a slow process getting him to fit comfortably.

“Yes, Daddy,” your hands wrapped around his neck and he growled as he pulled you into a rough kiss.

“Good fuckin girl.” 

He helped lower you onto his cock with lots of kisses, praises, and gentle squeezes. When you got closer to his base, the pain was too much for a moment. Kirishima used his thumb to rub circles into your clit, shushing you sweetly against your parted mouth. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead with his free hand while his other is still working your clit over.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, “You fill me up so well. I love your massive cock filling me up.”

“You’re gonna make me crazy, you know that? Huh?” He pulls your lower lip into his mouth and sucks. You both sit for a while, exchanging kisses and whispers while you adjust to his girth.

“Are you ready to move now, sweet girl?” 

“Yes, Daddy…” he helps you move, dragging your hips up and down his shaft.

After a few deep thrusts, you both increase your pace, matching each other’s movements. It’s not long before your head is thrown back, tears escaping the corners of your eyes. Loud moans and curses escape your mouth as one nipple is pulled into Kirishima’s mouth.

“Oh, Daddy! Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there… I… I’m… AHH!” Before you can even say anything, you’ve come undone, spasming around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl, good fuckin girl,” you go limp and bury your face into his neck while he slams your hips onto his, chasing his release. The feeling of him using your body to get off makes you dizzy with joy. You lean into his ear whispering, “Please come inside me. Wanna feel you come inside me, Daddy… please, need your come inside me, Daddy.” 

Your slurred pleas against his ear send him over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm. As he comes down from his high and looks into your face full of adoration, he knows he’s caught… hook, line, and sinker. 

*****

The rest of the evening is spent eating cookies on your couch, drinking cider, and watching your favorite crime drama. The sweet kisses and touches sprinkled throughout the night feel so natural… Like you’ve been together for years instead of hours. 

You end up with Kirishima’s head in your lap, running your fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes and relaxes into your touch. The clock on your wall reads 12:30 am and it dawns on you what day it officially is.

“Eji?”

“Hmm?” He opens one eye and reaches up to scratch your scalp. 

“Will you be my valentine?” You bite your bottom lip to stifle a silly grin.

He sits up and pulls you into a bear hug. 

“What kinda silly question is that? Of course. I don’t ever want another valentine besides you.”

Your heart explodes and you kiss him, grabbing his cheeks in both hands. 

“Sixteen-year-old me is absolutely losing her shit right now,” you giggle, rubbing his nose with yours.

“Well,” he grabs your ass and raises an eyebrow, “Forty-two-year-old me is losing his shit right now over finding such a sweet girl with such a sweet ass on her,” he nips at your neck and you squeal.

“Ooh, you ready for another round, old man?”

He growls and throws you over his shoulder. A swift spank to your ass causes you to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, so I’m dealing with a brat now? You want me to show you what this old man does to little brats?” He squeezes your thighs as he makes his way to the bedroom. 

“But I’m your good girl! Remember?!”

“Yeah, yeah… We’ll see about that.”

[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.

[nishigo]

an anomaly. // bennett x reader.

a page from the book of memories.

[ p a g e 3 2 9 ｡ ]

authors note: hello! this is my first ever attempt at something for genshin impact. this is longer than i expected, and there may be errors here and there, so i am sorry about that in advance. i do hope you will enjoy it though. i got bennett yesterday after rolling and although many say he’s annoying...he’s very much like me in real life. coincidence? i think not. Σ('◉⌓◉’) i also rolled a girl named keqing. she seems nice, and is a five star, but i don’t know if she’s rare. i truly don’t know how this system works, apologies. T^T anyways, traveler, happy reading. (*'▽'*)

word count : 2191

tw : none that i can think of. very much fluff. and perhaps a touch of a flirty!reader. :)

request status at time of posting : open.

in which he had finally someone who could balance out his unluckiness.

would you like to read?

＞　行｡ ( y e s )

＞　不行 。( n o )

———

Bennett was, to put it simply, confused.

He had just finished a mission with you, being your support the whole entire way through. There had been an offering that had been posted on the tavern’s walls in dark, smudged text that caught his eye at an earlier time. It read that whoever could get rid of the new pop-up hilichurl camp that blocked the path to Liyue would receive a grand sum of Mora. Course, running low on money, Bennett had decided to take up the offer. They would be easy enough to take down, just a simple slash of his sword and a few burns here and there could get the job done in no time. However, there was a problem.

No one would come with him.

Bennett knew that he was very...loud. And he was energetic. And annoying. And, though he hated to admit it...he was unlucky.

Everything seemed stacked up against him. Everyone he turned to in the tavern took a simple glance at him and rejected the offer with no further questions asked. He would try to convince them, but they would simply get more annoyed at his stubbornness and shoo him away with a flick of a hand or some splash of beer to the face. It’s not like he could take the older adventurers out either, they could barely walk on their own two feet. They were so old that they certainly would have shriveled up in the sun if he brought them along. So there that option went, leaving him with practically nothing else to turn to.

But then, if he had no one to go with him, what would happen? Would he continue to be stuck in that tavern? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to waste away like that. He was meant to be out there, in a world that could supply him with the thrill and rush that his heart yearned for. The boy desired to be just as great of an adventurer as the ones who came before him, or perhaps, dare he dream, even greater than them. Bennett desired to be a legend. But being a legend could not be done alone, even if that was what Bennett determined he would forever be, deep in the back of his brain.

Which is why you were such an anomaly.

You were the last person he spoke to that night. He was a complete mess. His shirt was damp with beer and some white wine, his white locks were a birds nest with the goggles sliding off slowly, and his eyes looked devoid of life as he took a deep inhale and they brightened up again. This was his last chance. You were the one who was either going to make or break this plan.

“Hello stranger! I am the great Bennett, and I was wondering if you would be able to help assist me with a mission that was posted on the tavern walls. It’s about the hilichurl camp by Liyue! Although I am rather strong, I need some help so it’s done more efficiently and faster. I’m even willing to split the Mora with you that we make out of it! What do you say?” Bennett recited his lines again, as if he was in an interview of sorts. His leafy green eyes watched as you scrunched up your eyebrows, as if thinking and examining him. Your face was blank other than that, lips in a straight line and hand cupping your cheek. Bennett found it to be quite terrifying. It was such an intimidating look, in fact, that he was about to ask you to forget about it before you spoke first.

“Sure.” You stated simply, a smile forming on your face as you crossed your arms.

“Ahhh, understood, I’ll get goi- WAIT!” The pyro boy turned to look right at you as he gasped. His face was one of shock morphed with a cute, ecstatic look. One could compare it to a puppy of sorts. You were not meant to say yes. You were meant to be like everyone else and reject him. He was dumbfounded as he grabbed a hold of your shoulders and tilted his head.

“You’re not joking?!”

“Course not! Why would I do such a thing?” You rebuked before he giddily jumped up and down while pulling you up to a sweet hug. It was a gentle and firm one, though, he pulled away quickly after realizing he still wreaked of alcohol. You told him you didn’t mind it though, making him rub the back of his head sheepishly and laugh. You two would converse for the night, agreeing to meet up at the gate the next morning so he could lead the way to the camp and also split the mora gained evenly. After the small chat, you would leave the tavern to stay at the local inn for the night and get some rest. Bennett’s eyes were trained on you as the door then closed, realization hitting him like a truck: he found someone. He found a real person to take on a mission. Better yet, they were as gorgeous as they were strong. This was better than any dream he could have made up. Bennett decided he had to turn in for the night soon after you left, taking a spot in his cozy bed under the sheets. His eyes closed as the curtains rustled at the soft wind that blew through the window. The pyro’s last thought before going to bed was that he truly hoped that you would fulfill your end of the deal and show up.

And you kept your promise. You were there as the morning sun rose to reflect your beautiful skin, hair flowing gently in the light breeze as he ran up to you and froze. You looked powerful now that you were out of the tavern and he could see you properly. You had on your adventure gear, dressed appropriately for a mission that required taking out many enemies. What caught his attention, though, was your white cape with golden accents that flowed from behind. Flicking your hood down and off your head, your face was now fully visible as you watched him stare. He was adorable, like a little baby who was just discovering the world for the first time.

“You’re really gonna do this with me?” Bennett asked in wonder. His face was blank as a smirk landed itself on your features. You positioned yourself to stand upright, away from the wall you were leaning on as you held your weapon of choice in your dominant hand. As for the other, you outstretched it towards him with a grin.

“Lead the way.”

Bennett didn’t even have to think twice about it as he eagerly took your hand into his own gloved one and began to lead you out of the city and into the wilderness. He seemed to be very hyper from what you could tell, as he couldn’t seem to stop commenting on how he was destined for greatness, or how thankful he was that you were going to come along with him. He also bombarded you with questions about yourself as well, like if this was your first time in Mondstadt or what kind of element you had control over. He was easily excited, but especially when you told him that you were a traveler that had been moving around place to place to see the sights of the world. It was why you were so strong, you had defeated a wide range of enemies, great and small, on your journeys. Bennett was fascinated by that, drawing him to be more and more curious about you. Alas, the questions and storytelling had to wait. You two had arrived at the camp, and it was time to take some enemies down.

You two ended up making a fantastic duo of sorts. With his sword and experience, he was able to cut down enemies with ease. You did the same, your speed and agility outmatched as you two basically made a massacre out of the camp. His fire would spread through the long grass, and with the natural wind, spread quickly to begin burning it all down. You were quick to come to his aid when he would sometimes get backed against the rocks or a tree, helping him heal with some quick magic you had learned. It wasn’t anything special, but it was enough to keep him up and moving. With such precision and perseverance, your duo was able to defeat the camp with relative ease. However, both you and Bennett were still tired from fighting for so long. You two were out of breath as the fire died out, heaving for air as you gave him a head pat and grinned.

“You did amazing out there. You’re a talented pyro user as well, I’m impressed.” There you went again, making him all confused as he sat there. You just complimented him. A powerful traveler, that has practically defeated every sort of monster there is out there, was impressed by him. Bennett, the unlucky, was impressive? For the first time, he was rendered speechless as he looked at you. It was now night, the moon high in the sky as it illuminated your face. Oh goodness, you looked ethereal. The way the stars were reflected in your eyes, the way the gold of your cape sparkled and flowed behind you, the way you smiled at him, like he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen. The only thing that stopped the comfortable silence between you two was the fact that he shivered when a breeze brushed against his pale, scar littered skin. You snapped out of it and looked him up and down, noticing how a lot of his skin was exposed to the chilly night.

“Here, take this.” You told him as you unbuttoned your cape, taking it off your shoulders. With one swoop, you draped it over his own figure, being as gentle as possible as you buttoned it up again. Bennett was reduced to continuing to stay silent as you clothed him. You placed the hood up on top of his head, a hand on your hip as you grinned at him. It was a bit big on him but nonetheless, it was rather cute. You used your other hand to take his chin gently, making him look you in the eyes. He was rather happy that the hood cast a bit of a shadow, because his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as he was forced to look at you.

“Huh. Looks better on you than it does me.” You commented before he seemed to regain his ability to speak.

“You need this more than me! I-i’m literally a pyro user, I c-can heat myself-” You hushed him, letting go of his chin as you put a finger to his peach pink lips.

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t waste your energy to heat up, especially since we have to walk back to town. I’ll be fine, I’ve been through worse weather situations.” He glanced down at your finger, and then back to you as you dropped your hand and began walking down the path again, back towards the city. Why did you have to be so, so...enchanting? And you were so smooth as well! He had never been so flustered when talking to someone, heck, he was the one who was meant to be doing most of the talking! Though, he supposed that him being talkative didn’t equate to being able to flirt. But something about the thought of you leaving made him pout. It was as if the butterflies were leaving his stomach, but they left him emptier than before.

Bennett refused to be lonely anymore. Not when he had you.

“Hey, darling!~ Would you stop standing there and staring off into space? I know I look wonderful tonight, but we gotta get a move on! We won’t be able to get to town and rest our weary bones if you keep this up!~” You called out to him, making him shake his head and refocus. Right, a bed. Sleep did sound rather good right now, along with a shower and something to quench his thirst. He ran and caught up to you, walking by your side as he grinned. He began to already ask about other missions that the two of you could do together, like gathering supplies for the alchemist or helping around the town for some spare Mora here and there. Bennett then stopped for a moment again, looking at you.

“Would you like to work together again?” There was a moment of silence before you nodded.

“I think I would. We make a great team.” Bennett then continued walking with you, as if time didn’t just stop for a second as he went back to his usual, bubbly nature. The more he thought about it, the happier it made him. More adventures to be made. More memories to be created. All with you at his side the entire time.

And you would make all the difference.

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

[simpleserendipity]

Boy Next Door | Calum Hood | Mature

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (boy next door)

Warning: smut, thigh riding, dirty talk, voyeurism (kinda)

Word count: 2,037 words

You sat at your desk, facing out the window. He's your next-door neighbor, Calum Hood. His bedroom window unfortunately is right in front of yours, making for some awkward moments when you would catch each other’s eyes. He's working out in his room right now. You don’t quite know when he switched from worrying about soccer to boxing and you don’t know how his mom allowed him a punching bag in his room. It was probably one of those things he easily charmed his mother into allowing. You watched him as he stood in the room, pounding away at the punching bag. You couldn’t deny that he's really good-looking. Calum's wearing a sleeveless shirt and his biceps are showing and boy he has some nice arms. He's dripping in sweat and his body is gleaming in the sunlight shining in his room.

You two had an odd relationship because you were best friends when we were younger but as we got older, you grew apart over the years as he got further into soccer while you were more focused on school. You didn’t want to be bitter over it but it really annoyed you how different he was to you, he was cocky and brazen every time you talked. You’ve always had a crush on Calum since you started high school and he started to grow into his features. The more he’s gotten into boxing the more you’ve had these little moments, you would watch him box and he would peak up at you when you were changing clothes. There was always some tension between you two ever since you two had begun these little staring contests and it’s finally getting to be too much for you.

You realize you’re staring at him and try to turn your head away but it's too late. He already saw your eyes and he shot a ridiculous smirk at you. "Staring is rude." He mouths at you. He's no longer focusing on working out, but more on the flustered reactions he can pull out of you. He pulls off his shirt and continues his work out carelessly, going right back at the punching bag. He knows your eyes are watching him and not the homework you had once set out to do. You decide to abandon the homework and change into some more comfortable clothing for the rest of the night.

You stand up from your desk, eagerly pulling off your shirt and exposing your red bra. You headed over to the dresser, opening the drawers searching for something to wear. You knew that Calum was watching as you got changed but it didn’t really bother you anyway. You wanted him wrapped around your finger.

You turned over your shoulder to look out the window quickly and saw that he was still going at the punching bag but also glancing out of the corner of his eye towards your window. You grin at him and continue to dance around the room. You examine his body as you swayed around your room, taking your sweet time to get dressed, he's a lot more muscular than he seems, not completely ripped but he was in pretty good shape. You pull out a t-shirt and toss it on the bed before turning away to take off your jeans to reveal your matching lace panties. It's so funny, you’re going through your dresser and you can see that Calum had given up on boxing, he was more focused on watching your window.

You ignore him for a few more moments before you turn around to look at Calum's window. He's gone. You laugh to yourself at the thought of Calum running away to relieve himself. You sit on the edge of your bed. You hoped desperately that Calum would never bring this up again, even though it wasn’t the first time he’s watched through the window. Just as you started to relax, moving on from the stupid thing you just did. You hear a knock on your front door, you huff before getting up from your bed. You pull on the giant white tee shirt that goes right below your panties, hoping you can quickly get rid of whoever is at the door. You skip downstairs quickly. You throw open the door to see Calum standing there, he's in a pair of shorts with no shirt. It looks like he had simply wiped the sweat on his forehead before coming over.

"Oh um hi..." You tell him awkwardly, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. Of course, it was him because why wouldn’t it be after what you did earlier. You could easily shut the door and run away but something kept you there, looking at him.

"Hello _____... Those are a nice bra and panties you're wearing there." He grins cockily and adjusts your tee shirt collar so he can see your bra strap. His stupid grin makes your heart leap and you’re quite embarrassed to be so weak for him.

“Umm... Thank you." You say awkwardly looking down, "What do you want?"

"How about I come in and show you what I can do to that pretty body of yours?" He says leaning against the door frame. His bold attitude had you weak in the knees, you hated what he did to you.

"I can't because my parents are home." You lie, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Now _____, I live next door, I saw them leave," he says stepping inside. He grabs your arm and pulls you away from the door. He slams the door and pushes you up against the door. "Don't tell me, you're gonna be shy now?" He smiles at you smugly, feeling your body wither against his every touch.

"I'm not," You rolled your eyes, putting your hands on his chest, "It's just that it's you." You prayed he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest.

"That didn't bother you when you were in your window." Calum gets in your face.

"Whatever." You pushed him back.

"Lemme see what I can do to that body of yours." One of his hands pins both of your arms above your head, “Will you let me show you?” He asks before bringing his lips down and placing them on your neck softly. You couldn’t speak, you just nodded, lost in the feeling of his lips on your neck. His lips trailed up and down your neck before finally capturing your lips. His lips moved against yours painfully slow, so much so you were itching to be able to touch him at this moment. He pulled back, stealing the breath right out of your lungs. “Go upstairs.” He nods and waits for you to head upstairs. You walked away, him trailing behind you. You could feel his eyes burning into your back as he was scanning your form. You open the door and step inside nervous about what Calum was going to do next.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind himself, “You going to do what I ask baby?” He looks you up and down. You shift nervously before nodding, “Words baby.” He raises his eyebrows. You wanted him wrapped around your finger but now he’s got you around your finger.

“Yes, I’ll do what you ask.” You nod before looking to the floor, never have you ever felt so easily submissive to someone. Surprised at where this shy streak came from because you were never quite that shy.

“Good,” He nods, walking past you. He sits in your desk chair, spinning around slowly. He smirks at you, beaconing you over with two fingers. You tentatively stepped over to him, standing in front of him, “Take a seat baby.”

“Okay.” You let out barely louder than a whisper. You sit down, straddling one of his thighs while facing him.

"I’m sick of this little game we’re playing,” His hands find your hips, “I’m sick of seeing you changing at the end of the night and how when you study you're always in those short shorts and that tight white tank top.”

“It’s not just me,” You hum, hands trailing on his chest, “You’re always over their boxing, all sweaty and shirtless with your nice fit body on display.” You weren’t sure where the words were coming from.

“Yeah, baby?” His hands inch up under the t-shirt, “You know how much I think about the things I could do to you?”

“Calum…” You trailed off.

His hands found the hem of your t-shirt, “You know how many times I’ve seen you through that window and thought about being here with you?”

“I’ve been right next door this whole time,” You roll your eyes, “You could have come over at any time.”

“Yeah?” He pulls the t-shirt off your body, “You’re talking a big game right now but I just know I could make this pretty body respond in such amazing ways.” Once your shirt is off, one hand finds your hip and the other reaches up to grip your throat, “You would love that wouldn’t you?” You nod and he raises his eyebrows.

“Yes…” Your chest was heaving up and down, heart racing with anticipation.

Calum drags your body across his thigh closer to him, the friction causes you to let out a little moan and you buck your hips at his. To his surprise, he answers your thrust with "Tsk tsk... someone is needy." The feeling of the lace grinding against your clit was incredibly foreign but felt amazing. You subconsciously kept your hips moving against his thigh.

"Oh my god..."

His hand on your hip pushes you back again and you immediately let out another moan. Calum grins, looking down at where the lace met the cotton of his gym shorts, “You really love that feeling huh?” He chuckles, dragging your hips again. You let out a bit of a whine and Calum chuckles again, “I bet I could get you off on my thigh alone, couldn’t I?” He drags your hips along his thigh a little faster than before.

“Please Calum,” Your hands trailed up from his chest to grip on his shoulders as you ground your hips against his thigh.

“That’s right baby,” His fingers dig into your hip on one side while the other leaves his throat, dragging down your back to unclasp your bra, “Now keep going.” He slid your bra off then tossed it on the floor. His hand returning to rest on your shoulder. His head dipped down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, eliciting the loudest moan yet. He tweaked your nipple between his teeth on one side and a hand took the other nipple in his hand.

You kept your steady pace, the friction was becoming a lot as you kept grinding, “Calum it feels so good.” You threw your head back, “I want more.”

He grinned up at you from his place on your nipple before pulling off with a pop, looking down at the wet patch spreading across his jeans because you had soaked through the lace, “Let me see you come undone on my thigh before I give you anything else.”

You nodded quickly, feeling eager to please at this moment before picking up your pace with the help of Calum’s hands, dragging you along. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” Calum nods before flexing his thigh, sending a jolt through your body, “Come on baby, I wanna see you cum.” His hand left your shoulder and went to your hip, both hands began to drag your hips faster than before. Your breathing was uneven and chest heaving more than ever, you felt the knot in your stomach tightening as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Holy shit,” You threw your head back in pleasure as you came all over his thigh, “Holy shit.” You repeated.

Calum stopped grinding you against his thigh, “You like that baby?” He took a handoff of your hip to brush a strand of hair out of your face and you nodded.

“Yeah, I really liked that.” You said while trying to catch your breath, Calum grinned before he brought his lips to capture yours again.

[mrs-takami-keigo]

Strawberry Fields

Paring: Kirishima x Full Figured Reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 5.5K

Warnings: Self-Deprecation, Fat-phobia 

Prompt: First meeting

Taglist: @dragonhrte​

So this will be my third tile off of my bingo card for the @bnhabookclub​ and this one was a tough one to write. This is SFW but will cover themes such as Self-deprecation and Fat-phobia. As a person who has been on the bigger side most of her life it has taken a lot of confidence building to get to be who I am today. And as a writer I fell like it’s my duty to be as inclusive as I can be. Through my years of reading I haven't seen that many fuller body reader fics. When I say fuller body I’m talking 200+. 

If there is one thing I want someone, plus size or not just remember you deserve to be and feel loved, everyone does! I hope this can give whoever is reading this a sense of comfort. 

You don’t think you could ever forget the first time he came into your life. At the time you worked at a sweets shop called Honey’s, a place that only sells, well sweets! Cakes, doughnuts, pastries, floats, sundaes and milkshakes. Honey’s had a wide variety to offer for their wide variety of customers, they ranged from kids all the way to cute elderly couples, sharing a banana split.

You loved working there, it was perfect seeing as how you were in culinary school to be a confectionary chef. Making pastries and anything sweet was all you wanted to do, it was something that brought great joy in your life. It also didn’t require you to be around too many people at one time. The owner and head chef were more than happy to hire you, and the position was perfect, you just had to work the bar or as they called it the candy bar. Standing behind a giant bar as you took orders for the people that came in alone really was ideal, seeing as how you had anxiety. Being a fuller bodied and taller girl all your life and having dealt with bullying and all types of teasing always stuck with you.

You could remember those whispers people around you in high school made as you walk down the aisle of desks in your classes, your hips sometimes brushing against the desk or the person that was sitting in them. Or even having to turn sideways just to get past something, because you couldn't fit. So working behind the candy bar, where there wasn’t anything you had to squeeze past or worry about bumping into things, truly was a match made in heaven.

You were in charge of making the milkshakes, recipes, names everything. The owner let you have full control of that. When he first told you that you didn’t think anything could top that day.

That was until you met him.

It was a Friday afternoon on a beautiful June day. Even though there was a pandemic going on and everyone, workers and patrons alike still had masks on. Even the regulars were happy the shop was open, happy to have some sort of normality back. The light chime of the bell in the front signaled that a new customer had walked in.

Usually you didn’t look at the door when someone walked in, seeing as how you were always busy manning the bar. But something told you to look up. Standing at the door was a group of guys who were around their twenties, looking around the shop and talking amongst themselves.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the red haired one. He was tall, one of the tallest in the group, he had broad shoulders and a muscular build. A plain white v-neck t-shirt, light blue jeans that had frayed holes in them and red converse’s. It was a simple look but you couldn’t help but watch as a waitress, who just so happened to be your roommate, walk them over to the booth in the back of the room.

He slid into the booth, the side he sat on faced you, so when he took off his black mask with the words ‘RIOT’ in red letters, you could feel heat rise up your cheeks under your own mask.  

‘Oh god he’s really handsome.’  The way his eyes turned into upside down crescent moons as he smiled a smile you were sure could light up the world. His features were manly but also so soft at the same time, it just made you want to pinch his cheeks. His crimson eyes were big and bright, you could feel yourself melt when they glanced in your direction.

You panicked when you locked eyes for a millisecond with him before you just turned your head and pretended like nothing happened. Your heart was racing and legs were weak, all he did was look in your direction and he had you turning into a puddle.

“Hey, are you okay?” The sound of your roommates muffled voice broke you out of your slight panic.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good!” You smiled at her and even though she couldn’t see it through the mask.

“Well the group of hotties I just sat down all want milkshakes. One cara-delight, one cookie monster, one banana mania and one strawberry fields.” You took the small piece of paper from her order book, placing it on your board as you start to make the milkshakes.

You didn’t know which one the man that caught your attention got but something was telling you it was the strawberry one. You kept on smiling as you made the drinks. Wondering what his name was or what his voice sounded like.

Glancing back at the table, you watched as he continued to laugh and talk with his friends. The blonde with what you would call porcupine hair that sat next to him, seemed to be angry about something. But red, that’s what you decide to call him, was just laughing at him which seemed to make the other male angrier.

Shaking your head you turned back to the shakes, putting on the last piece of garnish on the strawberry one. Tapping the bell that let the waiters/waitresses know their order is up my roommate came bustling over.

“This is for the hotties at the back booth right?”

You nodded your head as she fixed her hair and her outfit before taking the drinks over to the table. I felt my heart sink slightly as she started to talk to red. It looked like she was flirting with him, and he was smiling back at her. You let out a defeated sigh as you watched the exchange.

This always happened, a guy you found cute or interesting would fall for your friend. They would become close with you just so they could get close to her.

‘Why am I surprised? Why would a guy like that even notice me?’  You started to wipe down the counter and work station as you got lost in your thoughts. Your roommate was beautiful and petite, an extroverted type of person that people just flocked to, a man’s ideal type.

You felt like you were the exact opposite. Tall, full figured, not great looking and a person with too much anxiety to be sociable. So of course he would go for a girl like her, it just made sense.

You spent the next hour making milkshakes, taking orders of the regulars you had, thinking of new recipes and cleaning. Anything to distract yourself from looking at where red sat. Still not looking you heard your roommate say her goodbyes to the group as they walked out of the shop. Exhaling a sigh of relief, knowing that he was finally gone, it came rushing back as your friend bounced behind the bar, hopping up to sit on the counter of the work station.

“Guess who has a date?” She gushed as she played with a neatly folded piece of paper between her dainty fingers. “I think I’m in love! His red eyes were so...ugh!! And his hair although it was sticking up all over the place, he was still cute. He was so in shape too!!”

With each word she said you felt like your heart was breaking into a million pieces. You weren’t sure what made you think that there was just a shimmer of hope he would be one of those guys who didn’t care about looks and things like that.

“Well anyway he’s coming here tonight when my shift ends for a date! I already asked the owner if we could do it after we close and he said sure as long as you’re here!”

“Wait, you want me to stick around while you go on a date with this guy?” She nodded her head vigorously. “And I’m assuming I'm going to be cooking for this date?” Again she nodded.

“Fine but you owe me big time!” You couldn’t say no to her, she's been your friend since middle school. She was the one to defend you when people used to pick on you and was there for every mental break down you had.

“Do you know how much I love you!?” She jumped off the counter to give you a big bear hug. You wrapped your arms around her slim waist. “His friend said he’d come along, so you wouldn’t just be here alone! He kept asking questions about you.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she danced out of your embrace.

“Huh?! Who?!” Before she could answer a few waiters came up with orders for milkshakes.

“You’ll see later. I’m gonna run and grab stuff for you to cook during my break, and again thank you so much!!” You just waved her off as you started to get the order together.

“When did you have time to change?!” You and your friend had already closed up shop and were getting ready for her date and his friend to show up.

“I move quickly! So I got chicken, lemons, cooking white wine and pasta, that's all you needed right?” She had removed the bags from the walk-in fridge, putting them on the table.

“Yeah I figured a nice grilled lemon chicken and pasta would be a good dinner for the date, and I already started prepping for the creme brulee.” You began to pull the items out of the bag when you heard her phone go off.

“Oh he just texted me! Bakugou and his friend will be here in twenty!” You had never seen your friend act like this about a guy. There was another sharp pain as you felt your heart break.

‘So Bakugou is his name huh?’

“Go out and set up your table, I found some candles in the office for you to use to set the mood.” You started to shove her to the door and out of the kitchen so you weren’t bothered.

She looked like she was walking on clouds as she hummed and made her way to the table in the middle of the room. You figured that would be the best place seeing how it wasn’t so close to where you were going to be, so it didn’t seem like you were intruding on them and not far enough incase she needed help.

Twenty minutes went by too fast for your liking, as happy as you were for her, you didn’t want to see Bakugou so soon. The pasta was done and the chicken needed another ten minutes when she came through the kitchen doors.

“Take off your jacket and come out, they are here!” She was tugging on the sleeve of your white jacket. Sighing you started to unbutton it before sliding it off your arms.

‘Might as well get this over with.’ Hanging your jacket up you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. All you wore was an old baggy band t-shirt that was so big it came down past your behind and leggings paired with black combat boots.

Following your friend through the swinging doors, you could see two shadowy figures at the door. You heard the lock click as she unlocked it and opened it for the two men. Feeling your anxiety come back, you didn't want to see him again, this was a mistake.

“Hey! So glad you guys can make it.” You tried to busy yourself with the silverware for you and his friend, avoiding looking at him.

“It’s our pleasure! Plus I couldn’t stop thinking of that milkshake from earlier.” That made a smile spread under your mask. You loved hearing people compliment your work.

“My friend here actually is the one in charge of the recipes and menu for them. And she cooked us all dinner tonight!” You could hear them getting closer.

‘Alright here we go.’ You looked up to see blondie and red walking towards you. If this was an anime you were sure one of the ghost things would come out from your mouth as your body left your soul. Bakugou looked so handsome. His spiky red hair from earlier was down now, a black button down with a red tank top peeking through the undone buttons hugged his muscular frame, dark blue jeans showcased his long thick legs, black converses were on his feet this time and that same mask from before.

You were positive that your heart had stopped and so did your breathing. You didn’t even pay attention to his friend, you only saw him.

“Gentlemen this is, y/n. y/n this is Bakugou and Kirishima.” It took you a second to realize that the blonde was Bakugou and the red head was Kirishima. Which meant your friend was on a date with the blonde.

“It’s nice to meet ya!” Kirishima sent you a small wave as those beautiful red eyes turned into crescent moons, he was smiling at you.

“Ditto.” You heard a deep chuckle come from him causing you to blush even more. “Um, I’m gonna go check on the food. You guys can go to the table and Kirishima can sit at the bar with me.”

Walking back through the door to the kitchen, you started to pace. You were about to have dinner with the guy you have been thinking about all day, and you were sweaty and gross from a day's work. Hair pulled up into a ponytail with strands poking out all along your hairline and in an old gross band tee.

You covered your eyes with your hands as you shook your head. ‘Get it together!’

Going to the chicken you saw that it was done and started to plate the dish. Once everything was plated you grabbed a large round tray, placing the four plates on it. Heaving it up to your shoulder to help you balance it, you walked back to the door before backing into it. You had just gotten around the bar when you felt the tray be lifted from your hands. Looking to your left you saw Kirishima hold the tray like you had and made his way to the couples table.

“Here you go guys. Enjoy!” He put the plates down as if he was their server and made his way back to you. You watched as he put the plates down on the bar, then setting the tray off to the side.

“Aren’t you gonna join me?” He pulled his mask down allowing you to see his handsome face in all its glory.

“Um yeah.” You walked over to the stool that had the plate in front of it. Your stool and his were separated by one empty one in between you two.

You felt his eyes on you the whole way to your stool. Once you sat down you looked back at him, he was still staring.

“What?” You started to feel self conscious.

“You’re beautiful.”

You looked at him in disbelief. “How could you possibly know that, when I'm wearing this mask and all you could see are my eyes?”

“That’s all I need to see to know you’re beautiful.” You felt your cheeks heat up intensely as he said that. Not once did he look away from your eyes. And his voice, god could you listen to his voice all night.

“W-we should eat before it gets cold.” You finally pulled down your mask, letting him see your whole face for the first time.

“Seems like I was right, you sure are beautiful.” Your head snapped over to look at him, but he had started to eat his food, a prominent blush on his cheeks as well.

The rest of the night flew by as you and Kirishima started to talk about your love for cooking and baking.

“You're telling me that not only are you beautiful, you can cook and bake?!” He had his elbow propped up on the bar his chin was being held by his hand. A goofy grin was spread across his face as he watched you prepare the creme brulee.

A small part of you wanted to be happy that he was taking interest in your likes and passions in life. But a bigger part of you was aware that he was just here as a wingman for his friend.

“You have the cook and bake part right at least.” You turned on the small blow torch to caramelize the sugar on top of the custard. You glanced up at the man who had your heart racing all night. Instead of the cheerful look you’ve gotten used to, he had an expression of sadness. It confused you, why would he get sad?

“Hey can I talk to you for a second?” You weren't sure when your friend had come over to you, seeing as how you were caught up in Kirishima’s expression. Shutting off the torch, you nodded your head and excused yourself from Kirishima, taking your friend's hand and head for the kitchen.

“I’m really hitting it off with Bakugou, we're gonna go for a walk in the park after dessert. He’s asking Kirishima to walk you home, is that okay?” You could see it in her eyes, she really liked him.

“It’s fine! Go have fun just text me every once in a while okay?”

You both walked out from the kitchen again as you went to finish the creme brulee. You all decided to eat it together at the bar and finish up the night. You learned that Bakugou was a hot head but was still super sweet, perfect for your best friend.

Once everyone was done, the two men insistent on helping you two clean up the mess before leaving for the night.

“All right, have fun you two! I’ll see you at home.” You waved at your friend as she wrapped her arm around Bakugou’s, making their way to the park.

“Shall we go?” Looking over at Kirishima, who had his arm out for you to take like his friend had done, you sighed.

“Listen Kirishima, you don’t have to walk me home. Bakugou got my friend, he doesn’t need a wingman anymore.” You could see the confusion on his face as you continued to speak. “It was a fun night and all but I can get home by myself. Take care.”

You started to walk down the street, leaving Kirishima to stand alone in front of Honey’s. Your apartment wasn’t too far from the shop, only about a twenty minute walk. The only thing that sucked was there was a strip of clubs you had to walk past in order to get home. Drunk people always made you feel anxious, they tend to not be so nice.

You did feel bad for leaving Kirishima like that but you also had to face the harsh reality that there was no way a guy would like you like that. His smiling face and his voice when he called you beautiful rang through your head. You had to admit it was nice to think that maybe he did take an interest in you.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the large group of men outside of one club. Trying to squeeze yourself through them, you accidentally bumped shoulders with the bigger male in the group.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You apologized the second it happened but the man didn’t care. His large hand shoved against one of your shoulders causing you to fall off the sidewalk and into the street, landing on your side. You could feel the arm you landed on start to burn, certain that you had a couple of scrapes. You had tried to avoid the fall but it caused you to twist your ankle.

“Watch where you're walking lard ass!” He laughed with his group of friends as you still sat on the ground, holding your injured arm in your hand.

Tears started to form in your eyes. Sure you’ve been called names all your life because of your size, doesn't mean it didn’t still hurt. You tried to stand up but your body wouldn’t, you were just emotionally and mentally exhausted. So you just sat there and cried.

“Ha! Look she can’t even stand up! It’s called a gym and a salad, fat-OOF!” You heard what sounded like a rock hitting something followed by a thud of the big man falling and hitting the ground. Wiping your tears you saw Kirishima standing over the fallen man, his chest heaving up and down, hands balled into fists, teeth bared. His face was covered in rage, it kind of scared you.

“It’s not very manly to push a woman around like that!” The guys friends came to try and peel him off of the ground saying apology after apology to you as they ran away. “Cowards!”

Kirishima looked over his shoulder at you, his expression softened once he saw your tears. Moving next to you he squatted down, a large gentle hand came out to move the hand that was covering the wound. You let out a hiss as his fingers grazed it.

“I’m sorry, I should have gotten to you sooner.” His voice was nothing but a whisper, his eyes covered by his hair. “Do you need help standing?”

“Yeah.” Kirishima stood up in front of you holding out both of his hands for you to grab on to. Your hands let go of his as you tried to stand on your own, but there was a shooting pain in your right ankle, sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you were about to fall again but you felt arms wrap around your waist and a hard chest against your body.

“Whoa I got you.” You could feel him tighten his arms around you, making you feel so warm in his embrace. “I’ll carry you home.”

“No it’s okay I can walk.” You pushed yourself off of him trying to prove you could walk, only to almost fall again.

“Damn it will you just let me help you?” He was holding you around the waist again. A light blush appeared on your cheeks. “Here climb on my back.” He crouched down in front of you, his broad back was in your view.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice was meek, as you looked around. Other people on the sidewalk were staring at the two of you.

Kirishima turned around looking over his shoulder, a wide toothy grin was plastered on his lips, your heart started to race. “I’m a lot stronger than you think.”

You knew he wasn't going to give up, sighing as you climbed on his back. You pressed your chest against his back, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Your head was next to his as you tried to bury your face in the back of his shoulder. Standing up Kirishima gripped your thighs, jumping so you were in a better position for him.

“You okay?” You could only nod against him. “Can you tell me how to get to your place?” Everytime he spoke you could feel the vibrations go through your body. You directed him to your apartment. As he kept walking you were readying yourself for him to just say that you were too heavy and drop you in the middle of the sidewalk. But he barely broke a sweat as he walked the last ten minutes to your place.

“I can walk now.” You mumbled against his shoulder once Kirishima stepped out of the elevator on your floor.

“Not until I get you inside and patched up.” You’ve only known him for only a few hours but the effect he had on your heart was indescribable. Once he got to your door he squatted down, keeping his eyes to the ground so you could put in your code to open the door.

You were grateful for the fact you cleaned the apartment yesterday, seeing as how there was a guy walking through it. Walking over to the large couch by the window, Kirishima turned around sitting on the couch, allowing you to slide off his back.

“Do you have a first aid kit anywhere?” Your eyes watched his every move as he bent down on one knee, softly grasping your injured ankle. He slipped the boot off slowly, removing your sock and pulling up your leggings so he could get a look at your now swollen ankle.

“Yeah it’s under the sink in the bathroom, down the hall first door on your right.” Kirishima took one of the small pillows off the couch and pulled the coffee table closer. Placing the pillow on the table, laid your ankle on it as he ran to the bathroom.

You weren’t sure how to feel. Between your feelings for your red knight, what happened with the guy outside of the club and your own insecurities. Could he actually like you? Were you allowed to actually have someone like you, for you?

“Here we go. I took a bag of frozen peas from the fridge if that's okay.” You could only nod your head as he went back to the same position he was in earlier. “Looks like it might be sprained. You are gonna have to stay off of it for a while, so that means no work for the time being.”

Kirishima was wrapping an ace bandage securely around your ankle and foot. Once he did that he put the frozen bag of vegetables on top of it. He dug through the first aid kit searching for some more items. You couldn’t stop watching him, his face was full of concentration. For some reason it just made him look even more handsome than he already was.

“Alright let’s take care of that-what?” He turned around to look at you, catching you just simply staring at him. “Is there something on my face?” He started to wipe his face in all different areas.

You chuckled at how cute he looked trying to get whatever he thought was on his face. “No, nothing is on your face, it's just…” You let the sentence die out. You couldn’t let him know what you were feeling, but you also didn’t want to get hurt….again.

“What’s wrong?” Kirishima got up, taking a seat next to you on the couch, facing your direction. You couldn’t look at him, opting to look down at the hem of your shirt, playing with it between your fingers.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What are you talking about?” You sighed a deep sigh, gathering the courage to look him in the eyes.

“Why are you going this far to help me? Are you just trying to get brownie points for your buddy or something? I already told you my friend is really into your’s, so no need to go this far.” You felt tears spilling from your eyes again. There was nothing more you wanted than to live in this fantasy with Kirishima, but after years of experience you knew how this all would play out. So you might as well put an end to it now.

“You think I’m doing this for Bakugou to get points with your friend?” Kirishima reached a hand out cupping your round cheek in it. His large thumb wiping away your tears, a soft smile on his lips. “You've got this all wrong angel face, Bakugou was my wingman tonight.”

You could only stare at him. Not sure if what you heard him say was correct. There was no way that he was the one to set all this up for you.

“What do you mean?”

“I noticed you the second I walked into Honey’s, you were the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life. And when we sat down those sparkling eyes of yours looked right at me and I was sure my heart stopped.” His thumb was drawing small circles on your tear stained cheek.

“I knew your friend was into Bakugou so while she was busy I told him to ask her out hoping that in some weird way I’d be able to get closer to you.” You could see the small blush forming on his cheeks, he was embarrassed.

“But why? Why would someone like you, be into someone like me? I mean look at me I’m not pretty, I’m tall and huge.” You pulled his hand off of your face. He was everything you could wish for, handsome, funny, caring, protecting, Kirishima had it all. But in your mind you had nothing to offer a man like him.

“I’ve done nothing but look at you. All I see is a woman who is selfless, talented, passionate about her craft, honest, strong and so freaking beautiful it should be a crime.” Kirishma had turned your face back to him, but this time he was much much closer. His crimson eyes stared into your own. You felt like you could get lost in them.

“Kirishima…” No matter how hard you tried the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I don’t care about what your physical appearance looks like, in my eyes you are the most beautiful being out there, angel face.” He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face. “So please stop crying, okay?”

He pulled you closer to him, burying your face in his chest. One hand rubbing your back while the other was patting your head. He kept humming a song you couldn’t recognize, but the vibrations were lulling you into a deep sleep.

According to your friend, Kirishima was still there holding you as you slept when she came home. He explained everything that happened that night and she told him about your past experiences. Kirishma felt his heart break for you. He wanted nothing more than to protect and give you the love you deserve.

Over the next three years that's exactly what he did. It was your graduation day, you were officially a professional confectionary chef! Finishing your hair you heard your cell phone go off, letting you know you had a text.

Red Knight: I’m downstairs whenever you’re ready, angel face! <3

You: I’ll be right down~ <3

Even after all this time just a simple text from your boyfriend always made your heart flutter and a smile spread across your face. Looking one last time in the mirror, you were in love with the dress you had ordered for your special day. It was a long soft pink dress that was made from lace, ruffles along the bottom of it. With every movement the dress flowed with you, showcasing your body in all the right ways. It had sparkly strawberries embroidered all over it. Something that went along with your profession while also having Kirishima’s favorite fruit on it.

Having him in your life was a blessing. He showed you an unconditional love you never knew could exist. He was patient with you, always there to reassure you that no matter what he loved you to the moon and back when you doubted yourself. He was there when classes and work were getting to be too much, staying up with you at all hours of the night helping you perfect certain dishes that proved to be difficult. And always without fail Kirishima was there to walk you home each and every night. He really was your red knight.

“Hey! Kiri is downstairs I’m gonna go! I’ll see you after the ceremony!” You shouted out to your roommate. You didn’t even wait for a response as you flew out of the door and into the elevator.

The elevator reached the main floor, dinging while sliding it’s doors open. You could already see him standing outside, hands in the pockets of his as he rocked back and forth on his heels, looking around and whistling. His red hair had grown over the years to the point where he could put it in a ponytail, you were obsessed with it. You always admired how he dressed and today was no different. He looked so good in his tan blazer with the sleeves rolled up showing off his defined forearms, and a loose white t-shirt under it. It was paired with a black trousers and black leather shoes.

Pushing the door open you caught Kirishima’s attention, his mouth hung open as you stepped through the door, his eyes roaming around your body.

“Do you like the dress?” You started to fiddle with the dress, nervous as time continued to pass and the man that held your heart hasn't said anything yet.

“Like it?” You let out a yelp as you felt him put his hands on your waist lifting you up off the ground slightly, spinning with you. “It’s freaking amazing! You’re amazing, angel face.”

He placed you back on the ground but never stepped away from you. Kirishima brought his hand up to the side of your neck, leaning down.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are to me, I love you.” He pressed his lips against yours.

There was nothing you wouldn’t change about the day you first met the man of your dreams, not in the slightest.

[yourmidnightlover]

ssa hotchner: chapter 2 - one week

TW: threats, language, talking abt abuse/what happened to y/n the night before, mild drinking

WC: 5,116

series masterlist

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you woke up to the bright sun peeking in through your window past the hills, shining brightly into your eyes. you sat up, and rubbed your eyes in attempt to wake yourself up even more. you looked over at your clock to see the tie was already half past 6 a.m.

you didn't have to go to work for the first time in what felt like forever. trudging out of bed, you made your way into your bathroom and started the hot water.

the cut on your face looks exponentially better than it did last night. the handprint's swelling on your face had gone down quite a bit, but the bruise on your arm was definitely still there.

you brushed your teeth while you waited on the water to warm up. once the shower was ready, you shed your clothes and hopped inside. you took your time, letting the events of last night try to sink into your mind.

after you finished up, you used a towel to dry your hair a bit and got dressed in some leggings and a large t-shirt. you figured you might as well be comfortable if you didn't have anything else to do.

going back into your living room you decided to read the note that was taped to your gate. you pulled the bin out, followed by the shoe box, followed by the note.

you've been receiving them for close to 7 years now, ever since that high profile case you did for the bau. honestly, there was no telling if the letters were from more than one person. they are all typed and printed out.

at first they were all 'thank yous' for putting away a serial killer, but then came the anniversary of him being in prison... and people got a bit angry. then, people who were grateful for you putting him away forgot about it, as they should since they have lives of their own, and all that was left were the people who were angry.

the people who would wish you were dead. the people who think you should be inside there with the other killers. the people who were upset about you putting their 'true love' away for good. those were the people you were scared of.

the people that knew your address.

the people that sent you death threats.

those were the terrifying ones. the ones that kept you up at night, looking out of your window, trying to see if anyone was truly out there. nobody ever was. logically, you knew that nobody was out there lurking.

but if you told big bro, he would go all fbi on the letters. he would try to figure out who sent them, and send them to jail themselves. you didn't know if they were truly a threat, so what's the point in poking the bear? if they got too terrible, you would tell him. maybe...

you son of a bitch. you should've been his last victim so you wouldn't be here and he would be. you're nothing but a manipulative little bitch.

you don't deserve anything you have handed to you.

go die, bastard.

you folded it back up and placed it in the box, the bin, then pushed it underneath the couch.

were you worried? of course. would you tell anyone? not yet. if your fear became unmanageable, you would let someone know.

the only problem with the notes is that there was no return address. you put up security cameras everywhere around your gate in hopes of catching the culprit(s) on video, but sadly they were able to hack into the cameras you had gotten.

you would check the video footage after you received a note or picture. the time stamp went from 8:54 to 9:03, meaning they probably hacked into it before they got there.

maybe garcia could find whoever hacked into it every night if you needed her to. surely she would be able to work her magic when necessary.

you went into your room to check your phone for any new messages.

a <3: what're you doing for lunch today? feel up to spending time together two days in a row? let me know whenever you can; there's no case today.

you: i don't have any plans at all today, i guess i'll just have to suffer through another lunch with you.

and... sent.

unknown number: hi, y/n. it's spencer. i just wanted to know how're you doing? is the cut on your face okay?

you: hey back genius :) i'm doing pretty well, all things considered. my face is looking much better than it was before i went to bed, thank you for asking.

send.

while waiting for a response, you decided to clean the house a bit. you vacuumed your rugs, washed the dishes in your sink, did your laundry, and that was pretty much all you had to do today. everything done before 10 a.m.

checking your phone, there were two more messages, one from each of the guys.

a <3: great! would you mind just meeting me at the office around 11:30?

you: that's no problem at all. any place in mind?

you checked the other message from spencer.

spencer :) : i'm glad you're doing well, y/n. and to clear things up, your face didn't look bad at all last night, bruise and cut included.

what a little charmer...

you: thanks for the clarity, it's very appreciated. so how've you been since last night? save any other damsels in distress?

you put your phone down and decided to start getting ready. you opted for some blue jeans, high rise, and a lavender halter top. you paired that with some white high-top converse and threw on your gray blazer spencer brought you from last night, after you retrieved it from the dryer.

wearing something so casual, you decided to just wear your natural hair to the office. you did, however, need to cover the remnants of your adventure last night so aaron wouldn't be upset upon seeing something.

you used some good ol' color corrector, concealer, a bit of foundation, and some powder to cover the bruises and fail to disguise the cut. then again, there's not much that can be done to cover that up.

you checked the time on your phone, 10:53, and saw two more message notifications.

a <3: i was thinking about ordering some mexican food to the office so we could just stay there.

you: i'm good with anything, so that sounds great! i'll see you soon.

you sent the message and hopped over to the one spencer had sent you.

spencer :) : sadly, no other damsels. although i suppose that could be considered a good thing to most. oh! and if you were wondering, i got your number from garcia. i wasn't stalking you or anything, no worries.

you: yes, i'm glad i was the only damsel in need of saving last night. also, if i were to find out you had been stalking me, i don't think i'd be afraid. in fact, i'd probably be more flattered that THE dr. spencer reid would consider me stalk-worthy.

was it flirtatious? yes. would it make him flustered? probably. would i enjoy being the person that flustered him? absolutely.

sent.

you got into your car and began the journey to quantico. the drive isn't very long, only about twenty minutes. you hopped out of the car, and made your way to the front desk to check in. looking over your shoulder, you saw none other than spencer reid walking up to you before the woman gave you your visitor's badge.

"hi there, damsel," spencer smiled as he greeted you. you walked closer to him after thanking the lady.

"hey, hero," you laughed as you both got closer. "is it too soon to hug you?"

"oh, uhm... not at all. i was actually-yes. i do want to- i'm just gonna..." he stuttered as he opened his arms for you to snuggle into.

"i like your hugs," you surprisingly announced.

"th-thank you," he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, secretly enjoying the coconutty scent that wafted off your hair into his nose.

"yea this is gonna be the new greeting tactic for us. just saying," you huffed into his chest.

"i wouldn't mind that at all," he laughed before you pulled back from his embrace, giving his shoulders a little squeeze before relinquishing all contact.

"okay, i'm here to see aaron. i'm assuming he's in his office, like always?" you rose one eyebrow in question before feeling a hand on your shoulder, turning to see aaron.

"i'm not always in my office," he rebutted as he embraced you in his arms. "how are you?" he asked nicely.

"i'm good! i hope you aren't overworking yourself like you usually tend to do," you voiced into his chest. he pulled back, not releasing your shoulders but looking deeply at your face.

"what's that?" he pointed to your cheekbone, his brows furrowing in concentration.

"oh, pshh. it's nothing," you shrugged as you waved his hand off, noticing spencer behind aaron with a look on his face that suggested you tell your brother what it was.

"y/n. what happened?" he pushed, giving you his 'brother' look.

"fine," you huffed. "i was gonna have to explain it eventually," you rolled your eyes. "last night before i left, ron got a bit handsy. before he did too much, spencer showed up to return my jacket. things got out of hand, ron might've slapped me, spencer might've pushed him against a wall, all's well that ends well," you grinned in hopes that he wouldn't have understood a word you just uttered.

"ron slapped you?" he asked in disbelief, his face still showing no emotion as per usual.

"yea, but spencer stopped him before he got to do anything else. oh! i don't have a job at all anymore, so i'm free for the next two weeks," you pressed your lips together.

"reid was there?" he turned to face spencer, who's face looked like a deer in the headlights.

"yup. i don't know what would've happened if he didn't show up. i really owe him, aaron," you said, trying to calm your brother down from the edge he was not-so-clearly teetering on.

"well, reid. uhh, thank you. and y/n. you should've told me this the second it happened," he ordered, looking at you shooting daggers.

"sir, yes, sir," you nodded off. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i just knew you'd be upset and i figured since everything's okay now that it wasn't important," you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

"it is important. it will always be important because you're important to me," he emphasized before taking a deep breath. "as long as you'll tell me next time i think i'll be okay."

"great! now when's the food supposed to get here because... food," you excitedly asked as you followed aaron as he turned to go to his office.

"it'll be here in about 10 more minutes," he announced as he motioned for her to sit beside him in the chairs in front of his desk. "so... what's the full story of what happened?"

"are we really gonna talk about that right now?" you huffed, clearly over the situation from last night.

"yes. we are. harassment is a serious issue that should be dealt with accordingly. you know that, y/n," he reasoned, propping his arm on his desk as he looked at you with his stern face.

"i do know that. i also know that he only ever did that to me. he has a wife and two kids; he'd never do anything to put them in jeopardy," you announced, trying to convince aaron not to press the issue any further.

"but he would be willing to risk a law suit from you because of what happened?" he questioned in defiance, not accepting the ask to drop it.

"i wouldn't give him a law suit, aaron. you know that," you remarked, leaning in towards him slightly.

"you should. logically, you should sue him for hitting you. and i'm assuming for whatever else he's done to you in the past," he corrected you.

"how do you know he's done anything in the past?" you questioned, aaron nodding his head to the side. "right. profiler," you sighed. "look, he used to call me names i'm uncomfortable with, but now i won't have to deal with him. i don't work there anymore and never will again."

"you may not work there, but what if another woman starts working in the office? who's to say he won't harass them as well?" you looked down into your lap, fondling your fingers in avoidance. "look, i'm not trying to be rude about it. i just don't like seeing you hurt, and to know that the guy who hurt you isn't getting anything done to him is ludicrous."

"i know. you've always looked out for me since we were kids, but i'm not a kid anymore. i'm a grown woman and can take care of my own business when i need to," you replied softly, placing your hand over top aaron's in comfort. "but thank you, for always caring. i know you do it because you love me, even though you don't say it often," you laughed, trying to bring some light hearted-ness to the situation.

"i do..." he nodded along. "love you, that is," he added with a rare smile.

aaron has always been there for you. ever since you were kids, because of you dad he would take the role of protector for both you, sean, and your mom.

because of his role of 'protector,' he has this external shell that he feels as though he can't shed. in his mind, if he sheds it he's not able to mask his feelings, leaving not only himself but also those he protects vulnerable.

"i love you too, a.," you smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it from your grip. aaron took his phone and checked the time.

"the food's here now," he announced as he went to go pick it up from the front desk.

when he returned he gave you the food and you began to eat together, him telling you the latest garcia story that got quite the kick out of you until his attention went elsewhere.

"... so...?" aaron asked sneakily, a sly grin appearing on his face.

"... so what?" you furrowed your brows in question as you took a sip of your drink.

"you and reid, huh?" he widened his eyes in suspicion.

"what about me and reid?" you wanted to press him further, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

"that's exactly what i would like to know. what's going on with you and reid?" he finalized, pointing his fork accusingly at you.

"nothings going on with me and spencer," you raised your hands in defense. "i just drove him home after he intervened in the... situation, last night so i made sure to thank him. he texted me earlier today to ask me how i was holding up after yesterday evening- like a gentleman," you pointed out, raising your eyebrows to establish some sort of dominance you knew you didn't have over your brother.

"right," he said in a sing-song voice, you rolled your eyes at his tone.

"shut up," you scoffed as you threw away each of yours' trash. "so, i think it's time for me to go," you smiled as you turned to face aaron from the doorway.

"ahh, right," he sighed with a small grin. "i actually talked to strauss about getting you onto the team," he raised his eyebrows.

"did you, now?" you smirked. "what'd she say about it?"

"she said that you'd need to fill out an application, and that if you were to be hired there'd be a trial run first to see if everything would work out smoothly," he announced happily.

"really? so there's a chance i could work here?!" you squealed, rubbing your lips into a tight line from the excitement.

"a pretty good one, at that. i actually have an application right," he reached over his desk to retrieve a couple pages stapled together, "here," he smiled, handing you the application forms.

"oh my gosh!" you shouted, throwing your arms over your brother's stomach and squeezing him tightly. "this is so exciting! do you think i'm actually qualified?" you asked, pulling back from his embrace.

"are you kidding? of course you are?" he asked incredulously. "just fill those out, return them to strauss, and i'm sure she'll review them quickly," he nodded.

"right. i'll get going now," you smiled widely. "thank you, a. thank you so much," you said, giving him one last hug before you whooshed out of the door, papers in hand.

you walked down the stairs and out of the glass doors towards the elevator. the doors started to close after you pressed the 'lobby' button, but there was a brown satchel stuffed between them to stop the from closing right before they shut. once thy opened back up, you noticed who the bag belonged to.

"hey, spencer," you smiled, scooting over in the elevator to make more room for him.

"hey, y/n. how was your lunch?" he asked, returning your smile.

"it was pretty good. aaron gave me an application for the bau, which is very exciting," you bit back a wide grin.

"really?" he asked happily, his eyebrows raised, you nodded in return. "that's so great!" he said cheerily, wrapping his arms around your waist an lifting you off the elevator floor as the two of you giggled together.

"i know! if i'm being honest, i'm a bit nervous about it, y'know?" you said as he placed you back onto your feet, your hands still on his biceps.

"why? we already know you'll fit in well and do great. what's making you nervous?" he asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you with a confused expression.

"i don't know..." you started. "i guess since i've only worked at one job, doing one thing, moving nowhere, staying stagnant, i just don't know anything else," you shrugged.

"it's actually incredibly normal to feel nervous about a new job. over 80% of working professionals feel nervous or anxious when starting a new job," he clarified as the elevator doors opened, you both walking out together. "think of it this way: you know the material, you're more than qualified, you know everyone you'd be working with, and you're passionate about what you'll be doing. there's no doubt that you'll do amazing," he encouraged as you continued the walk to your car.

"thank you. at least i know i'm not the only one that gets this way," you sighed. "so why'd you walk all the way out here?" you giggled. "don't you still have work?"

"uhh, yes. i-i do have to work. i just f-figured- i just wanted to uh, talk to you?" he stuttered out, clearly not realizing how charming it was.

"well, thank you, spencer. i really enjoy our little chats," you nodded as you unlocked your car. "thanks for walking me out. i'll see you?" you asked.

"yea, yes. i will uhm, see you later. goodbye, y/n," he smiled gorgeously.

"see you later, spencer," you grinned back as you closed your door and began to drive off after buckling up.

halfway home, you got a call from someone. you pressed the bluetooth answer button on your radio to answer.

"hello?" you replied, readjusting your hands on your wheel.

"y/n hotchner. i can't believe you were at the office and didn't even bother to say hi to me!" emily's voice rang through the speakers.

"emily! hello to you too," you giggled.

"you even said hi to reid! but not me?" she shouted. "what gives?"

"sorry, i just kinda ran into him, i guess. well, he ran into me," you corrected yourself.

"what does that mean?"

"well, he kinda stopped me while i was in the elevator so he could talk to me. he's such a good friend," you complimented.

"only friend?" emily asked suggestively.

"yes, em. only friends," you laughed at the insinuation.

while it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be more than friends with him, it certainly wasn't the right time for a serious relationship in your life yet.

"righhtt... anyway, that's not the only reason i called you," she stated.

"and why did you do that?" you asked as you turned onto the highway, a straight shot to the street with your house on it.

"i wanted to know if you'd like to come with us to a bar after we get off of work tonight?" she asked.

"hmm... who's 'we'?"

"well there's me, morgan, garcia, and you if you'll come?"

"sure, it sounds fun," you agreed. "besides, not like i have anything to do with no job and all," you laughed out.

"great! now we could probably convince reid to come now that you're going!" she exclaimed.

"jeez, em," you huffed as you rolled your eyes and turned onto your street.

"you know it's true. morgan's already teasing him about it and everything," she snorted out over the phone.

"oh poor spencer..." you grimaced as you thought about the relentless teases.

"yea, yea, yea. but you're coming, and there's no backing out! i'll just pick you up before i head to the bar. be ready at 8, ma'am. dress hot, please, garcia and i already agreed to it," she demanded.

"yes ma'am, sounds good," you nodded even though she can't see you.

"alright, love you, bye," she said, holding out the 'e'.

"love you too, bye," you said as she hung up the phone, finally turning into your driveway to be met with your gate.

you entered the code and the gate opened, allowing you to drive half a mile up to your house. you had always wanted a nice, big house as a child. the kind that people had in movies, and everyone looked at online. you signed a lease for this house a while back, and got an amazing deal on it sense you knew who owned it previously.

unlocking your door, you walked into your house with the papers in hand. you walked into your dining room and started filling the papers out easily. it was only 1 p.m., so you had a while before you had to start getting ready for going out with them tonight.

*******

you threw on a maroon colored corduroy skirt, tucking in your spaghetti strap, black tank top. adding some black  heeled booties, you added a few silver pieces of jewelry.

after adding some mascara, lip gloss, and a bit more powder you felt like you were ready to walk out of the door. you did a few spritzes of perfume before grabbing your black crossbody purse, letting it hang on one shoulder before grabbing your black denim jacket, dashing out of the door to emily's car.

"hey em," you said as you swung the door open, crawling not-so-gracefully inside.

"hey there," she said as she examined what you were wearing. "i seriously did my makeup for half an hour and you come out looking like that? it should be illegal to look that hot, y/n," she rolled her eyes with a huff.

"are you kidding me?" you replied, looking over to see what she was wearing herself.

she had on a short, black dress that had a low neckline, allowing tasteful cleavage to show through. she wore that with some red pumps to match her lipstick and some shimmery eyeshadow.

"okay, you can't say that. you look hot, em! don't sell yourself short," you punched her arm playfully.

"yea, yea, yea," she said, beginning to drive out of your driveway.

once you arrived to the bar, it looked like it was almost full. the music was loud, and you could feel the base through your feet on the floor. it took you about a minute until you could find the others, derek, pen, and spencer, sitting at a booth in the corner of the bar.

because of how crowded it was, you sat across from penny and derek and in between spencer and emily. you were practically on top of spencer because of how small the seats were, the poor guy.

"damn, you look great, y/n," derek gushed before looking at spencer with a smirk. "don't you think, pretty boy?" he laughed out, earning a jab from penny in the stomach.

"play nice, derek," she scolded him. "but you do look great, y/n. your legs look amazeballs in that outfit... like wow," she exaggerated.

"oh, shush," you blushed. "i'm kinda hungry... you guys?" you asked them.

"i could go for some cheese sticks," emily replied.

"i ate before we came here," spencer replied with a smile, leaning into your ear a little bit to answer.

"so cheese sticks and... cheese fries? i adore cheese fries," penny added.

"i'm okay with whatever. i'll go order," you said as emily got up to let you out.

"i'll help," spencer added as he scooted out with you.

"great, any drink requests?" you asked, pointing out to all three others.

"jack and coke," emily requested.

"anything fruity they have!" pen told you.

"whiskey, on the rocks," derek said with a smile.

"you've got it," you said as you turned around, realizing how crowded it was as you tried to weave through the first few people in your way.

you felt a hand grip yours firmly, turning to see it was spencer's hand you felt a sigh of relief wash over you. he leant down to your ear to talk to you, so you leaned a bit closer to him.

"i'm gonna put my arm around your waist so we can get through easier. is that okay?" he asked. his breath on your neck and ear almost distracted you from the question.

"y-yea. that's uhm... that's okay," you nodded your head as you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

you moved one of your arms around his torso in return, squeezing yourself further into your side so you could avoid bumping into as many people. you could smell his sweet cologne, and the smell of what seemed to be coffee and old books. the warmth of his entire being was undeniable, drawing you closer to his presence.

eventually when you made it to the bar, you both kept your arms around the other. after ordering the food and drinks, you finally pulled your arm back, but stayed just as close to him.

"have you filled the application out yet?" spencer asked sweetly, leaning into your body.

"yea, i finished them just before i got ready to come here, actually," you nodded your head with a smile. "i guess you could say i'm a bit eager to start working."

"i think that's a good thing," he smiled brightly.

"oh, it definitely is!" you agreed. "i'm just so bored at the house. i've only been gone for a day and i need something to do, y'know?" you shrugged.

"busybody?" he questioned.

"oh you have no idea," you laughed, pushing his shoulder back playfully.

"i guess it runs in the family. hotch is always working on something as well," he mentioned. "so working at the bau would be a great fit for you both."

"yea, i sure hope so," you said longingly. "so what else do you do for fun... besides reading and working, of course," you asked.

"uhmm, i enjoy magic, i guess," he expressed.

"really?" you perked up, straightening out your posture at what he revealed.

"yea. i know a few little party tricks. wanna see?" spencer proposed, you nodded eagerly. "okay," he licked his lips as he began digging into his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill, also getting a pen. "watch..." he said as he jabbed the green paper with the pen.

"okay?" you squinted your eyebrows at what he was doing, unsure of where this trick was leading.

he then started to drag the paper around the pen, not tearing the bill at all. you felt your jaw drop in awe as he continued playing with it. then, he drug the pen all the way out of the bill, not a hole in sight. he made the bill disappear, leaving you stunned.

"what? how did you-? where did it-?" you stuttered, looking at him accusingly.

he reached around your hair, behind your ear and pulled out the same twenty dollar bill as earlier, a smug look on his face as he did so.

"okay... wow." you said as you began slow-clapping in awe. "i'm thoroughly impressed, spencer."

"thanks," he smiled shyly as he tucked the bill back into his pocket. "i've been doing magic since i was a kid. it's one of my hobbies when i'm we're not trying to catch serial killers," he shrugged.

"i'd say you've picked a good hobby," you chuckled. "i bet kids love it when you do them, huh?"

"yea, it's quite the entertainment for children," he nodded. "i love their reaction to it. it just makes me happy that i can bring a smile to their face."

"that, spencer, is fascinating," you complimented as the bartender handed you the drinks and spencer the food to take back to the table.

walking back was much easier than your journey to the bar, people actually making way for others with their hands full of refreshments. at least some people still had their manners.

"okay guys," you addressed as you began passing out the drinks, "here is your whiskey, jack and coke, and a tequila sunrise for pen."

"ouuu! i like the sound of that!" penny cheered as she took a sip of the drink, her eyes widening with delight.

"thank you, ma'am," derek thanked as he took a sip of his drink.

"absolutely perfect, y/n," emily relished in her beverage.

the rest of the night was fun. you laughed, joked, and danced with the girls. you even got to know spencer a bit more, much to your liking.

the next day you turned in your application, and was surprised when you got the job on the spot. you would begin your trial run in one week.

and you couldn't believe how fast that week went by, because as soon as you blinked, you were in the bullpen of the bau at your very own desk.

[logical-little-lies]

{Chapter 7/Halloween Special- Halloween Tears}//Soft, Cute, and Far Smarter Than You (Sanders Sides Agere/CGLRE)

A/N:Y'all ik Halloween was like, a week ago, but I wanted to make this chapter good for y'all. I didn't mean to make it as angsty as I did so yeah-

here's your warning for crying, emotions, and Logan snapping at Patton. Enjoy!

--

It was finally Halloween, and the Core Sides were rather happy due to this fact.

Everyone in the house was so excited. Patton and Roman had been planning the perfect little day for their regressors for weeks, and had managed to keep it secret until just a few days prior. The two boys weren't to keen on it at first, worried about going out while in littlespace, but they were quickly reassured that everything would be alright.

They'd be trick or treating, watching children's Halloween's movies, and so much more. This was supposed to be a fun day for everyone.

Also, this was the first time ever that Logan voluntarily regressed.

"Do you have all the makeup stuff for your costume?" Roman asked, looking to Logan, who was currently using scissors to cut up a plain white t-shirt.

"Yep! My costume is gonna look so cool once it's done!" Logan cheered. He sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by different supplies. He kicked his feet underneath of him, swinging them back and forth just above the ground. He was around fifteen, but his positive emotions made his behaviors mix between those of a teenagers and those of a older toddler.

But he swore up and down that he was strictly a teenager at the moment.

"I'm sure it will, kiddo." Roman smiled at him, picking up his glass of water and ruffling Logan's hair on the way out of the kitchen.

Logan continued to work on his clothes for his costume, using paints and pens to decorate his shirt. He was shocked when he heard a knock at the door. "Can someone get the door?" Logan called out, setting his stuff down and turning in his seat so that he could see into the living room, he had a good view of whoever could be behind the front door.

"Who's here?" Patton came down the stairs, looking to Roman, who sat on the couch with Virgil.  Roman shrugged.

"All four of us are here...so it could only be-" Roman spoke as Patton approached the door.

"Hello!" Remus cheered, greeting everyone the moment the door swung open. Janus seemed a lot less excited to be there, his arms crossed. Virgil locked eyes with him for a second, immediately burying his face into Roman's side. Roman wrapped his arm around him, holding him close.

"Chill out, we're not here to hurt you or anything. Remus thought-" Remus interrupted Janus's words with a look, silently urging him to correct himself. "We thought that we should celebrate Halloween with you...since we're trying to be kinder and work together and everything."

The Core Sides and Dark Sides were currently in a weird spot. After much conflict, they decided that they wanted to try and unite, be kind and stuff. But it was pretty hard to work together with someone when you've had a ongoing rivalry for the majority of your existence.

"You guys usually throw a party..but I'm assuming that something else is happening today?" Janus's eyes landed on Virgil, then on Logan, who quickly casted his glance downwards.

"Something else, yes. And you weren't invited," Patton finally spoke up, giving them a unkind glare that was so unlike himself.

"We're not here to start a fight! Why can't we join in on the family fun, hmm?" Remus tilted his head, looking at Patton with pleading eyes.

"Because.." Patton trailed off, looking over the the kitchen entrance at Logan, who was packing up his stuff in hopes of getting out of there. Patton couldn't come up with a good reason.

It was true, they were trying to work together and get on better terms with one another. If Patton blocked them out every time they initiated time together, then nothing would get better. But Virgil and Logan were regressed, so he needed to find an excuse.

"Cat got your tongue, Patton?" Remus questioned. Janus gave him a look, as if telling him to drop the mean tone.

"If this is about the nerd and the emo regressing, we don't care. We're open to spending time with them while they're in headspace." Janus explained.

Logan's head shot up, looking at them. Patton got the question out before him or Roman did, though. "How do you know-"

Janus cut him off, raising his hand in front of Patton's face, causing Patton to shut his mouth. "Virgil regressed even back when he lived with us...and he didn't hide it well. And it doesn't take genius to figure out that Logan does it too. We were never judging of it."

Patton nodded slowly, looking to Roman. "Let me talk to Roman, okay? Come sit inside for now." Patton stepped to the side, letting them in and shutting the door behind them. "Logan, watch your brother, please."

Logan nodded, agreeing to the task. Roman stood up, keeping hold of Virgil's hand and leading him over to Logan. "He's kinda scared..be nice to him, okay?" Roman asked.

"Of course," Logan stood up, taking Virgil's hand from Roman's, causing Virgil to pout. "Dad says that I'm a good brother." He spoke as if his words would erase any worry in Roman's mind that Virgil wasn't in good hands.

"You are, baby. You're doing great," Roman assured, turning to face Patton without another word.

Janus and Remus sat on the couch, looking back at Logan and Virgil, who seemed pretty scared. "You don't have to be scared of us. You know that, right?" Janus spoke first, locking eyes with Logan. He figured he'd understand what he was asking more then the toddler.

Logan shrugged, moving to pull out a chair for Virgil. Janus seemed kind of hurt my that response, but he didn't comment on it. "What are you two being for Halloween?" Remus offered, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Kitty!" Virgil blurted out with a light giggle. He couldn't talk super well when he was this young, so Logan was a little shocked to hear him respond so quickly to people who he hadn't been regressed around in a long time. Janus and Remus gave fond smiles to him.

"Really? That sounds like a great costume," Janus complimented. "How about you, Logan?"

"Uh, a zombie." Logan replied, his voice full of that teenage awkwardness that he absolutely hated. He didn't sound put together and smart, like when he was big. But he didn't sound cute either, like when he was younger. He just sounded weird.

"Ooh! Are you gonna do like, fake cuts and stuff?" Remus asked. Logan shrugged again.

"Probably, I'm not good at it though." He replied.

"Remus is very good at fake gore stuff! If your...caregivers?" Janus seemed questioning of the term, but Logan nodded, allowing Janus to continue. "If they let us stay, I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping you with your costume." Janus looked at Remus, who quickly nodded.

"Sounds good to me." Remus affirmed.

"Really?" Logan seemed excited. He knew how good Remus was at fake gore stuff. Of course, his powers aided in that, but he was also just decent at special effects makeup. Remus nodded. "Cool." Logan smiled, suddenly feeling a lot more comfortable then he did before.

They really weren't there to hurt them, or even make fun of them for regressing. They were being nice. Logan didn't make an effort to continue the conversation, turning and continuing his process of packing up his costume supplies so that he could bring it upstairs.

Roman and Patton didn't come back down stairs for a few minutes. When they did though, they came to stand in front of the couch, Patton making a motion to Logan to come into the living room.

"Okay, so we decided that if the boys are comfortable with it, then you can spend Halloween with us." Patton announced. There was a pause following his statement, so he spoke again. "What do you think, boys?"

"I'm okay with it, I guess." Logan said, before looking to Virgil next to him. Virgil nodded, seemingly nervous and hesitant, but not saying no.

"Okay, then it's settled. What's the plan for the day?" Janus leaned forward, looking at the two core sides in front of him.

"Where should I even begin?"

--

"Where's Logan?" Roman asked, sitting at the kitchen table with Virgil, helping him with his kitten whiskers. Of course, the toddler didn't enjoy sitting still, so Roman had to keep scolding him for moving.

Which of course led to Virgil feeling bad, setting an endless cycle of messed up makeup and babyish apologies. "Upstairs with Remus, he's helping with his makeup. They said they were almost done, though." Patton explained, setting two baskets down on the kitchen table.

One was shaped like a witched cauldron, and the other was a light blue basket covered in superhero stickers and sharpie doodles. You could probably figure out which one belonged to who.

"Okay, cool. I'm almost done with Vee, then we can get shoes on and head out." Roman smiled at Patton, who nodded. Patton went to exit the kitchen, pausing to kiss Virgil's forehead before continuing.

Upstairs, Remus held up a mirror for Logan as he packed up his makeup stuff. "Whoa! This looks awesome!" Logan exclaimed, looking over his face.

Logan was, at first, a little uncomfortable being alone with Remus while regressed. But then, Remus starting asking about his interests and what made him choose to be a zombie, and suddenly, that worry faded away as he rambled on about comic books and Netflix shows.

And just like his family, Remus sat there, listening and urging him to go on as he applied his makeup..

The fake gashes looked pretty convincing, and the dried fake blood on the side of his face looked pretty cool. He just hoped he wouldn't freak out his little brother to much. "Thank you," Logan remembered to use his manners, handing the mirror back to Remus.

"You're welcome. My brothers good at the glam makeup,but gore had always been my specialty." Remus smiled, stuffing the mirror into the makeup bag before making it disappear.

Logan gasped, "We aren't supposed to use our powers anymore."

"Technically that rule only applies to you guys. The Dark Sides never agreed to it." Remus corrected.

"Oh," Logan paused, not knowing what to say. He didn't have to continue his statement, because Patton's voice interrupted the conversation from the door.

"You guys may not have agreed to the rule, but while you're here, with us, please refrain from using your powers. The rule is in place for a reason. " Patton gave Remus one of his 'stern dad' looks, silently telling him that if he didn't do this, the invitation to spend Halloween with them would be quickly revoked. The Dark Side rolled his eyes, but shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Anyways, you look amazing, darling! Did you thank Remus?" Patton turned to Logan, looking him up and down and observing his costume. Logan nodded quickly. "Good job. Virgil is almost ready, so you should probably get your stuff together quickly before we head out." Patton instructed.

"Okay, dad." Logan grabbed his phone off of his desk, before heading out of the room.

Remus and Patton followed him out and down the stairs.

Time to go trick or treating.

--

The boys definitely had fun trick or treating. Patton stuck to Emile and Remy's neighborhood, the people were generally kinder in that area of the town, and they got no more then a few odd looks due to Virgil and Logan's behavior. Since all the interactions were quick, and Logan spoke for both him and Virgil, most people didn't even notice them.

It just looked like they were a few young adults going out because they wanted free candy.

Logan insisted that he didn't need to be watched, so him and Virgil walked a bit ahead of the other four, stopping at houses and collecting candy. Virgil seemed pretty excited, giggling and babbling things to his older brother. Eventually, Patton caught up to them and told them that they should walk home soon.

"But dad-"

"No buts. We've been walking for a while, your bucket is basically full, and everyone is tired." Patton spoke sternly, watching as Logan gave him an annoyed glare. "Lose the attitude, right now. Or that candy will be taken away until you're big again." Patton threatened, raising his eyebrows and watching to see if Logan was gonna push this farther.

"Oh my god," Logan rolled his eyes, holding his basket closer to him. "Sorry."

His apology wasn't genuine, he was just annoyed and wanted his carer to drop the topic.

Patton gave him a look that said 'we'll talk about this later', before directing his attention to Virgil. "Did you have fun tonight, baby?" he asked him. The other three had been trailing behind them, but Roman came forward to take Virgil's hand.

Logan dropped of behind, not wanting to listen to the two caregivers fuss over Virgil, instead matching pace with Janus and Remus. "You okay, Lo?" Remus asked.

Logan shrugged. "Dad's mad at me because of an attitude I don't even have," he complained, seemingly disappointed or upset about something.

Janus looked in front of them as they walked, where Patton was. "I'm sure he isn't mad at you. I think everyone is just a bit tired from walking, everything will probably be good once everybody has gotten the chance to sit down."

"You think?" Logan asked, swinging his basket back and forth a bit. He felt bad. He wasn't trying to upset his caregiver with his annoyance about going home. He was just a little annoyed, and Patton threatening to take his candy just put him in a worse mood. But now, he felt bad for ever being annoyed in the first place.

"Yeah, definitely. I don't think Patton could ever be mad at you," Remus jumped into the conversation, wrapping his arm around Logan's shoulder as they walked. Logan didn't seem convinced, but he went quiet and dropped the subject. Remus and Janus didn't make him talk, simply walking with him as Patton and Roman led the way back home.

Virgil was giggling about something when they got home, following Roman inside. Remus led Logan inside, while Janus paused at the door Patton held open. He made sure that no one else could hear him, speaking quietly. "Can you talk to Logan and make sure he knows you aren't mad at him? I think he feels bad for giving you attitude earlier. Me and Remus tried to comfort him but I don't know if it helped."

Patton's face softened, and he nodded. "Yeah, of course..." he trailed off. "Thanks, for trying to help. It means a lot to me, and I'm sure it does to him too."

Janus smiled, "Of course."

He walked inside without another word. He busied himself with turning on the requested children's movie (Nightmare Before Christmas) while Roman helped Virgil take of his shoes. Patton shut the door behind him, looking around for Logan, who seemed to be gone.

He locked eyes with Remus, glanced upwards, silently telling him that he had gone upstairs. Patton gave a thankful nod before disappearing up the steps.

Patton found Logan in the bathroom, rubbing at his face with a makeup wipe, his eyes a bit teary. He seemed frustrated, and emotional. Logan jumped when he caught Patton's face in the mirror, seeming to register that he left the door open.

He sniffled, "I'm just getting out of my costume." he explained, rubbing at his eyes quickly, casting them downwards. Now, his demeanor was embarrassed, and shy.

Teenagers weren't supposed to cry when their parents were upset with them. That was something Little Logan did.  He was to old for this.

"Logan," Patton approached him, taking the makeup wipe out of his hand and pulling him into a hug quickly. Logan rested his chin on Patton's shoulder, not cuddling into him because he didn't wanna get makeup all over his shirt. "Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad, hmm?" he questioned once pulling away.

"You were fussing over Virgil and you seemed upset," Logan shrugged, pulling another makeup wipe from the container and wiping down a section of his face, focusing on the mirror instead of facing his Dad.

Patton gave him an apologetic look through the mirror. "I'm sorry that I was focused on Virgil, I should've paid more attention to you and realized that you weren't okay."

Logan hummed, "It's whatever, I don't need extra attention. I'm a teenager that can take care of myself, I don't even know why I got so upset." he scoffed, seemingly annoyed with himself.

"That's not true, Logan. Biological teenagers still need attention, don't they?"

Logan shrugged. "They do sometimes, yeah." he admitted.

"And they don't completely take care of themselves either. And you shouldn't feel like you have to either," Patton explained. "And you're allowed to feel emotions, baby." he added.

"Every emotion but annoyance, right?" Logan challenged, looking directly into his eyes through the mirror before glancing away, focusing on wiping down his face once again. Patton's mouth fell open. He didn't know how to reply to that.

"Every time I get annoyed, I'm told not to give any 'attitude', even if I don't realize that I'm doing anything wrong!" Logan exclaimed, his voice laced in frustration. "You talk about expressing emotions but the moment it's not positive or something you can fix with a hug and some dad advice, suddenly it's not okay anymore."

Patton seemed hurt by that, but he slowly nodded. He couldn't take this personally right now. He needed to talk this out with Logan, and hopefully set him back up to have a good night. Patton went over to close the bathroom door. "Sit down," he instructed, lowering the toilet lid.

Logan seemed confused, but he took the order quickly. Patton took the container of makeup wipes before sitting down on the edge of the bathtub next to him. Logan turned to face him, not knowing what was happening.

Was Patton mad at him for snapping? Did he hurt his dads feelings? Did he just make everything worse?

He felt like he did.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel like you couldn't express your emotions," Patton pulled another makeup wipe out, cupping the clean part of his face and wiping down another. "You're allowed to be annoyed, or even angry with me. You might not like some choices I make and I understand that, I just don't like it when that happens."

Logan noticed the forced neutral expression on Patton's face, like he was trying to avoid giving away what he was feeling at the moment. "But.." Patton started speaking again, "That doesn't mean I should be so harsh on you when you do get annoyed."

Logan nodded in an understanding way, letting Patton clean his face. Patton continued.

"I'll try to get better about that,l promise. I'm glad you talked to me, though."

"Dad, I didn't mean to hurt you! You're doing amazing, I promise. I just lashed out because I'm emotional and-" Logan started up his quick, panicked rambling, and Patton held his hand up, telling him to stop. Patton started speaking, his face softening a bit.

"It's okay, baby. I did something wrong here, not you, okay? You don't have to feel bad for communicating with me." Patton spoke softly, wiping his face one more time before throwing away the wipe. Logan nodded slowly.

"And just so you know, I was never mad at you." Patton added.

"Really? I got so worked up and emotional for no reason?" Logan seemed shocked. Patton smiled lightly,

"Guess so."

Logan laughed, leaning forward and hugging him. This time, he snuggled into Patton's shoulder. "I'm sorry if I messed tonight up." he mumbled. Patton quickly pushed him away from the hug, his hands on either of Logan's shoulders as he looked him directly in the eyes.

"You messed nothing  up, baby. You still had fun trick or treating, right?"

Logan nodded quickly, smiling. "Yeah! Me and Virgil got a lot of candy and people complimented my costume!"

"One emotional part of the night doesn't ruin the rest of it. We agreed to a late bedtime tonight, remember? There's still time to have more fun," Patton assured. Logan nodded.

Patton kissed Logan's forehead before standing up and going over to the door. "Come on, I'm pretty sure Virgil would love to cuddle his amazing big brother right now." He held it open, making way for a laughing Logan to walk through.

Logan's first Halloween spent regressed may not have been absolutely perfect, but spending it with his family still assured that it was still amazing. He couldn't of asked for a better day then Trick or Treating and cuddling with his little brother.

Then getting his makeup done by Remus. Then getting praised by Roman.

Then being with his family.

There were ups and downs to every relationship, including a regressors with their caregiver. But those downs don't erase the good parts. After every valley, there was a hill.

And right now, watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, surrounded by people who cared about him, eating Halloween candy, was definitely one of the hills.

[wiebkesf1paddock]

Stuck Inside Pt. 2 - Charles Leclerc

A/N: Here is part two of Stuck Inside and I hope you like it! Thank you so much for reading! Enjoy!

Warning: nsfw

Word count: 1939

***

You didn't think it would work but you really did have a good time staying with Charles. You had spent the morning getting to know each other and you finally understood why Charles had such a big and nice apartment. He was a Formula 1 driver and you couldn't believe that you did not recognize him before. You didn't follow the sport, but you were familiar with some drivers and after looking Charles up when he told you what he did for a living, you were actually shocked about your ignorance. Charles showed a lot of interest in your life. He asked a lot of questions about your studies and what you were doing in your free time. You didn't think that you were going to feel so comfortable talking to him, but he had a thing about him that didn't make you think that it was awkward that you were staying at his place or wearing his clothes (even after yours were washed). You just changed into your knickers and your sports bra and actually decided to keep on his sweatpants and the t-shirt.

Now it was a little bit past lunch time and you two were still chilling on his sofa, watching some movie without really watching it.

"I have to work out for a little bit now. My trainer sent me some exercises I should do today. If you want you can join me," he grinned at you.

"Man, I don't know. You just want to make fun of me because you are way fitter than me," you laughed pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"No! I won't laugh, I promise! Come on! It will be good fun okay?"

You chuckled and held your hands up in defeat. "Yeah alright. Let's do it."

The both of you set up a training space on his terrace and Charles showed you a couple of exercises that you were actually able to keep up with. You tried to focus on doing the exercises not actually staring at Charles, but it was getting harder, when little sweat patches started to form on his t-shirt and a light layer of sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Hey, can you do a handstand?" Charles suddenly asked you.

"I guess so. I mean, not very well but I think I can do one."

"How about we do a challenge? Whoever can keep the handstand the longest can choose what we have for dinner?" Charles grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"If this is the price then yes. Let's do it. I want to have burritos. So, just know that I will literally do anything for that," you said while getting ready to do a handstand.

Charles laughed and also got ready. Both of you got into a handstand and you were determined to keep it up. However, you wanted to see how Charles was doing and looked over to him that caused you to lose your balance and fall over. It didn't hurt but Charles was at your side in no time, kneeling over you with a worried expression on his face.

"Y/N! Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm fine. Don't worry," you said and smiled at him.

Charles smiled at you, relieved that you had not injured yourself. The air around the two of you seemed to thicken and the mood changed from happy to something else that neither of you could yet put their finger on. You studied the handsome features of Charles' face. The way he sweat was still glistening to on his forehead, to his cheekbones, to his cute little moustache, until your eyes landed on his perfectly shaped lips and back up to his blue eyes. He looked you straight in the eyes too and slowly brought his face to yours until your noses were touching. He gave you the space to decide what you wanted, and you knew exactly what you desired in this exact moment. One of your hands found their way to the back of his neck and lightly pulled him more towards you, till your lips touched. A shower of prickles was sent down your spine. Charles pulled away just a bit and you opened your eyes and looked into his. He cupped your face with his hands and kissed you again. This time with a bit more passion making your head spin.

"How about we take this inside and I remind you of last night?" Charles mumbled against your lips and grinning smugly.

You chuckled lightly and looked at him saying: "Better make me remember this time."

"Oh, I will. I will make sure you'll never forget."

Charles helped you up and you both entered his living room again, making your way through the flat to the bedroom. Charles sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, immediately bringing his lips to yours once again. His hands were all over your body and seemed to leave a hot trace wherever they touched your bare skin. He pushed your t-shirt up and you lifted your arms for him to take it off. Charles couldn't wait to have you naked beneath him and got you out of your sports bra as well. His pupils had blown wide and he looked at you in anticipation. He stood up, holding onto you tightly, and flipping the two of you around, carefully laying you on the bed. He took off the sweatpants you were still wearing and let out a groan at the sight of you only in your panties beneath him.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, admiration flowing in his tone.

Your cheeks turned pink at his words, but they also made you smile at him. Instead of answering you pulled him down to you into another kiss again. Soon enough your tongue swept over his lower lip, making him groan quietly against your lips and granting you access to explore his mouth. Your hands roamed over his shoulders and found their way to the hem of his shirt, sliding it up to the point where you two had to break the kiss so that you could take the piece of clothing off him. Your eyes were glued to his abdomen that was on full display for you. You took a mental picture because you weren't sure that you would ever see someone so handsome ever again.

Charles attached his lips to your neck and left kisses around it while moving down until he reached your cleavage. One of his hands started to brush over your left breast while his mouth caressed the other one. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling he was giving you. He kissed down your tummy until he reached your core and your breath hitched in your throat when you could feel him placing a kiss on the bundle of nerve endings over your panties. His hands had moved down with him, now trying to touch every single part of your thighs, coming dangerously close to where you wanted him most, but never quite getting there.

"Charles. Stop teasing. I thought you wanted me to remember how good you are in bed not at teasing," you groaned, and Charles let out a chuckle.

"So impatient. But I guess you are right. Let's make you remember my name, huh?"

With these words he took off your underwear and within no time his head was between your thighs and his tongue between your folds. The movements of his tongue were swift, but still strong and they made you roll your eyes back. You couldn't believe how riled up he got you in no time and you couldn't keep the moans in, letting profanities fall from your lips, when he entered you with one of his fingers, almost massaging your walls. Soon enough he set a steady rhythm with his finger inside you, while continuing to kiss your inner thighs. Your hands were balled up in the sheets, wrinkling it and your breathing got more uneven when you felt the pleasure getting bigger. When your orgasm washed over you it felt as if a bubble of butterflies had exploded inside of you, the tingling feeling lingering in your body, as Charles helped you through your orgasm, licking your labia and caressing your thighs.

           When you had recovered from your high you opened your eyes and looked at Charles who was now kneeling between your legs, having gotten slightly up. You sat up a bit as well and fumbled with the strings of his sweats. Charles let you do that but ultimately had to get off the bed to take off his pants already pulling is boxers along with them. His erection sprung free and he was already hard, being turned on just by being able to provide you with such pleasure. He got onto the bed again sitting down, leaning against the headboard and making you straddle him.

"So now I am the one who should do all the work?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

Charles chuckled and shook his head. "You should  learn to be patient."

He reached for the nightstand getting out a condom and handing it to you. "But you can do some work too. You laughed and took the packet from him, opening it and rolling the condom over his length.

Charles had his arms wrapped around your hips and slightly lifted you up. He held you up with his arms and aligned himself with you. When he let you sink slowly down on him, both of you moaned in unison. Charles guided your hips in slow circles, and you wrapped your arms around him to pull him in for a kiss. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, but still passionate and it made your heart feel as if it was going to beat right through your chest. Meanwhile Charles guided you up and down his length, while sneaking one of his hands between the two of you and finding your bundle of nerves. You couldn't hold back the moans when he started rubbing slow circles on your clit, matching them with the rhythm he set with your hips, while also thrusting into you. Even though the pace was slow, it was so sensual and gave you goose bumps all over, making you drop your head back in ecstasy.

Charles couldn't close his eyes he looked at you in anticipation, as he thrusted into you and he couldn't remember, ever seeing something so beautiful. He could feel his high crawling up faster than he wanted to, but he couldn't help it when you started to clench your warm wall tightly around him. You shut your eyes tightly when you felt your second orgasm wash over you, making you see white dots all over. The sight of you coming mixed with you squeezing even tighter around him was too much for Charles and he too reached his high, holding you close.

When the two of you had come down from your high  you got off his lap and he carefully took off the condom.

"So, you think you will remember this?" Charles chuckled and looked at you.

"Hmm...yeah I think I will this time," you laughed at his cheesy question.

"How about we take a shower together to get cleaned up and then make some dinner? I won the handstand challenge so I can choose the food. And since you are my guest, I think we will go with burritos?" he smiled and the warmth of it made your heart flutter a bit.

"Sounds absolutely wonderful."

[ameth18blog]

Unexpected Encounters. Chapter 8: The Search (Part 1)

A new day has begun in Japan. The inhabitants of Zootopia, Japan and Mobius were once again meeting in the same apartment today.

"Well, we have already decided how the groups are separated, as Retsuko, Fenneko, Haida, Ookami, Washimi and Gori are from this city, each of you will divide into group of two, and you will be accompanied by Nick, Judy and Finnick" Sonic said.

"Why should we be accompanied by them, can I do things alone?" Finnick said.

"Come on Finnick, you've never been to this country, much less outside of Zootopia," Nick said.

"Yeah, but I can work alone, that's no problem for me, so we could cover more ground that way," Finnick said.

"Are you sure?" Tails asked.

"Yes. 100 percent," Finnick replied.

"Well OK. That could be beneficial to us," Knuckles said.

"Well, to start: Nick, Haida and Ookami will go to the north of the city" said Sonic.

"Judy, Retsuko and Fenneko will go south," Amy said.

"Washimi and Gori will go east" said Cosmo.

"And finally Finnick will go west," Tikal said.

"While that happens, Jack will stay with us while we try to find out more about the whereabouts of the master emeralds and the missing chaos emeralds" said Tails

"While you children will be in the care of our children so that they are safe from any danger, so they will not have to worry about them" said Sonic.

They all nodded their heads.

"By the way, before you go have this" Tails held up a tray that had a large number of clocks on them.

"What are they?" Ookami asked.

"They are communicators. I created them so they can communicate with us, I made them look like watches so they go unnoticed. We have ours too," Tails replied.

Sonic, Amy, Tails, Cosmo, Knuckles, Tikal, Speed, Flora, Alex, Locke II and Pachacamac II raised their arms to reveal their wrists where their own communicators were.

The people of Zootopia and Japan had their own communicators and put them on, including the children.

"Okay. These communicators have both the option of speaking and the option of danger. When you need to communicate with someone, press the button on the right and then mention on behalf of who you want to speak to. Pressing the button on the left will send us a signal to warn us if there are problems with Eggman or some of the robots, so we will come to your aid. If another type of problem occurs that does not involve Eggman still call us to help with anything." Tails told them explaining the functionality of the communicators.

"That's it?" Fenneko asked.

"Almost. We discovered that the beings who were brought to this universe or to this city because of chaos control ended up absorbing into their bodies some of the chaos energy, which is inactive within them, but these communicators can capture that energy when they are close to you" said Tails.

"Well that will make things easier" said Gori.

"Well, with this, all you need to know is ready. Meet us again here at 4:00 PM," Knuckles said.

They all nodded and left.

…

Retsuko, Fenneko and Judy were in the south of the city, they had just got off the subway and was walking random streets trying to find whoever they had to find. Easier said than done, though, since they didn't even know who to look for in the first place. While looking they decided to have a conversation. Judy took advantage and told Retsuko and Fenneko how she met Nick and Finnick and the first big mission that she solved with Nick's help.

"I see that you experienced a dangerous situation" said Fenneko.

"It was, these days I miss solving cases like that. But with two children at home I cannot expose myself to so many dangers. Although it was not the only case that I solved of that magnitude "said Judy.

"Was there another?" Retsuko asked.

"Yes, when Nick and I were already working together in the police station, the chief entrusted us that we had to work together with Jack who had assigned a mission in which would have to work with the Zootopia police department to catch a criminal who was hidden in the city. At first Jack was quite distant with us, and he didn't talk to us unless it was something to do with the mission. After we asked Finnick to help him work as an undercover agent and find information on the criminal. When he found out and fled the city, the four of us went after him. When we cornered him, there was an exchange of gunfire where Jack was wounded. Nick and I got him out of the place while Finnick for his part managed to take care of the criminal" Judy replied.

"Wow, I guess that was a critical moment for everyone," Retsuko said.

"And how did Jack recover and become closer to you?" Asked Fenneko.

"While Jack recovered he explained to us that the reason he was distant with us was because in the past he carried out various missions with other companions with whom he became good friends, but he was always unlucky that each time that one died in the line of duty, Jack blamed himself for it. That was why he promised himself not to have friends and only to have professional relationships. After learning about it, we convinced him that it was not good to be alone, and that if his companions were here they would be disappointed in the lonely lifestyle that he decided to take. Jack fell silent and let several tears escape from his eyes. Nick, Finnick, and I could tell from his expression that it was the first time he'd cried in years. I gave him a hug to comfort him, he reciprocated it and it was clear that he really needed comfort at that time. After that event, Jack decided to return to live in Zootopia, since until that moment he lived in the agency. And he became a close friend of the three of us," Judy replied.

"At least everything ended well in the end," Retsuko said.

Suddenly the conversation was interrupted when their communicators began to blink, they looked to see that they were not calls or signals from Eggman. Which means that they are close to those who are searching. But as the place was packed with various city dwellers it would be difficult to locate them.

They were so distracted watching the communicator that they ended up accidentally crashing with two beings that were walking in the opposite direction. All three fell to the ground.

"You are fine," said a male voice.

"If we're okay" Retsuko replied.

When the rabbit, the red panda and the fennec looked up, they saw two lynxes in front of them. One was taller than them, almost the height of Nick, Haida, and Ookami. The other was shorter than the first, but taller than Judy.

The tallest lynx was white with red stripes on the ears, on the arms, on the lower part of the eyes, on the tail and on the chin. The fur on either side of his jaw looked like a short beard. He had quite thick black eyebrows. The pupils of his eyes were yellow while the irises were brown. His nose was red. The tip of her tail was hairy. His body was quite muscular build. He wore a sleeveless black T-shirt, black pants with a black belt, and brown boots.

The shortest lynx was yellow with brown stripes on the ears, arms, and tail. He had quite thick brown eyebrows. The pupils of his eyes were white while the irises were green. His nose was deep pink. The tip of his tail was hairy. Unlike the other lynx, his build was slightly slimmer. He wore an orange t-shirt with blue short sleeves, blue pants with a black belt, brown gloves, brown boots and a flat brown hat with her ears poking out. On his back he carried what appeared to be a silver-colored backpack, which strangely looked metallic.

"Let us help you" said the white lynx holding out his hand.

The yellow lynx also held out command of him to help them.

Retsuko and Fenneko got up with the help of the taller lynx, while Judy got up with the help of the shorter lynx.

"Thank you very much" all three said at the same time.

"You're welcome," said the shorter lynx.

"I guess they were worried about something they didn't see where they were walking" said the taller lynx.

"Eh well, we were looking for someone, but we don't know who he is exactly," Fenneko said.

"And how do you know who you are looking for?" the taller lynx asked.

"It's complicated, I can only say that they are not from here, but we know that they have been in this city for 3 months after a strange event happened," said Judy.

"You mean a white light that enveloped the whole place and that when it disappeared we ended up in this city" said the shorter lynx.

The rabbit, the red panda and the fennec were surprised to hear that.

"Yes exactly," Retsuko said.

"Did that happen to you too?" the two lynxes asked at the same time.

"Not us, but who sent us to look for you, yes" Fenneko replied.

"If you don't mind, we could ask you a few questions about what happened to you," Judy said.

"Of course, but not here. Let's go to another place not so crowded" said the tallest lynx.

While the tallest lynx was with the three girls, the shortest lynx was a little further behind when suddenly a voice began to speak to him.

"You're sure we should trust them," said the backpack on his back that turned out to be actually a small green-eyed robot, who contracted his limbs to pass like a backpack.

"Of course, they know those who can help us get back to our planet" said the shorter lynx.

Finally they came to a small cafeteria and ordered some coffee. Then they sat at the table furthest from the rest of the customers.

"So what are their names?" Judy asked.

"My name is Ratchet," said the shorter lynx.

"And my name is Alister Azimuth" said the tallest lynx.

The three girls showed up with the two linx.

"Where do they come from?" Fenneko asked.

"Well we were both born on the planet Fastoon, which is now in ruins," Alister replied.

"And before I got here I was residing on the planet Veldin" Ratchet replied.

"So you are aliens?" Restuko asked.

"Well, you could say that yes, our species is known as Lombax" said Alister.

"But it seems that we are quite similar to the inhabitants of this planet, so we go unnoticed," said Ratchet.

"Where are Fastoon and Veldin left?" Judy asked.

"Faston is located in the Polaris galaxy, while Veldin is located in the Solana galaxy," Ratchet replied.

"Both galaxies are close to each other, but unfortunately they are located very far from this galaxy," added Alister.

"And tell us, what were you doing before you got here?" Retsuko asked.

"I'm a hero who is in charge of defeating criminals and galactic supervillains, I had just returned home from a mission, it was night when suddenly the entire area where I live lit up white. When I found out, I had appeared in this city on top of a building. Fortunately there were no more inhabitants near where I lived because if they hadn't ended up here too," Ratchet replied.

"In my case, you may not believe it, but I'm not supposed to be alive right now. It was assumed that I had passed away a few years ago, in a sacrifice to save Ratchet and the universe, from an event that was going to happen because of me, and in the subsequent explosion I ended up dying. I don't know what happened before arriving on this planet, since I was deceased, but the first thing I remember was waking up on this planet again alive and with my body restored, and with Ratchet hugging me with joy that he was from I'm coming back" Alister replied.

"If it weren't for the strange things we've been through since yesterday, it would have been hard to believe them, but taking into account what we're going through, their stories don't seem strange to me. By the way, what's the name of your little robot friend that comes with you" asked Fenneko.

"What do you mean Fenneko?" Retsuko asked.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear Ratchet talking to someone on our way here and looking at his back as he did so?" Fenneko said.

Alister and Ratchet made her nervous, to notice that he noticed.

"Don't worry, we will be careful so no one notices," Fenneko said.

"Okay," Ratchet said, taking off what looked like a backpack and putting it on the table.

What looked like a backpack, then he took the form of a small robot of a shorter stature than Retsuko and Fenneko.

"Judy, Retsuko, Fenneko, this is Clank, he is my best friend and we have had many adventures together" said Ratchet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Clank.

"The taste is ours" said the three girls.

"So you know what that light was that brought us here," Clank asked.

The three girls began to explain the story that Sonic and the others had told them. Once the two Lombaxes and the robot were finished, they finally understood why they got there, although still wondering why Alister came back to life.

"First of all, we have to tell those who sent us to look for them that we already found them," Retsuko said.

Judy took the communicator from her, pressed the right button, and said that she wanted to talk to Tails.

"Hi Tails, this is Judy. We already found the first group that was teleported here by the chaos control. Did you guys go out of town? Oh I understand. Don't worry, we can do that. Bye," Judy said.

"What happened?" Fenneko asked.

"They left the city, they found traces of the master emerald, so they went looking for it and Jack accompanied them" Judy replied.

"And what will we do now?" Retsuko asked.

"Well, they told me to take them to the apartment and wait for them to come back," Judy replied.

"They have no problem accompanying us" Retsuko asked the two Lombaxes and the robot.

"Of course not," Ratchet replied for all three.

After that, Clank hid his limbs from him again, Ratchet put it back on as if it were a backpack. They all paid for their coffee and left the cafeteria in the direction of Gori's apartment.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 41

~*~Emma~*~

 After our extended makeout break I grabbed my laptop to finish my lesson plans and newsletter. I sat on the chaise part of the couch. Sebastian stretched out with his head at the other end and his feet tucked under my thigh. He was reading, but I would catch him looking at me.

 "Done!" I closed my laptop and sat it on the floor. I grabbed my tablet from the end table.

 Sebastian said, "Good," before swinging around to lay his head in my lap. Well, I think reading will have to wait a few minutes. I ran my hand over his scruffy beard on both sides of his face before pulling at the gray hairs on his chin. "When is the photoshoot for the watch?" I continued to stroke his beard while we talked.

 Sebastian cut his eyes to me. "Wednesday. Thursday if needed."

"Can you send me what you look like?"

"I can. I’ll send you before and after."

 I pulled my eyebrows down in question.

 "When I show up before makeup and stylists get a hold of me and after."

 "Ooo, fun. It will almost be like being there."

"I like photoshoots. I like getting to wear different clothes and try different looks. It can get tedious, but usually the photographer is trying to keep me relaxed and in a good mood."

 "I love trying on new clothes. Dressing up."

He turned his head a little, "Dinner next week. Any place or type of food you want?"

 We talked about different cuisines and decided on a few options. Tables could be hard to come by. We also talked about me going to the gym with him on Saturday. His gym. The idea of watching him work out for real was infinitely appealing. That would far outweigh any nervousness about my comparative fitness level.

 "When's the last time you saw Angie and Eli?"

Easy question. "First weekend in May." Always the first weekend in May. "They came up here. Angie and I went shoe shopping then Eli did a short acoustic set at a bar."

 "What do you think about having drinks or something?"

Unexpected. I'd thought about it, but it was the first time I'd been to his place and I didn't feel right making plans. I moved my hand to his chest, "Are you sure?"

 He picked up my hand, kissed it, and put it back on his chest. "Friday is mine. After dealing with my gym friends if you may want some sanity."

I smiled, "Ok. What do you want to do?"

"Don't care. Talk it over with them. They're your best friends. I want to meet them."

 This was the first time I'd gone out with basically a total stranger. We weren't really long distance, but we weren't in the same town either. Usually, whoever I dated already knew my friends. With Sebastian, we'd been here and met my friends. I’d met his family, which was all kinds of backwards, but it was important to me to meet his friends, to know him with them. I realized all of that was because I wanted to be in his life, not just an hour north of it.

 "I want to meet your best friends too."

"I'll be checking who's in town. I want to show you off. You already know Kirk. I'll be quizzing him to find out which of my traitorous friends know you and didn’t introduce us."

 It made me laugh, how he'd been thinking. "What happens if you find out we already met or someone tried and you said no?"

 Sebastian cringed, "I'll be figuring out a way to kick my own ass."

 I went back to stroking his beard. Almost like I was trying to get each little hair to go in the same direction.

 "You seem fascinated with my beard."

"It's soft. Softer when it's grown in more, but it's still soft. Do you want me to stop?"

 "Nope."

 We read in silence for a long time. I continued to play with his beard and he continued to smile. One of us got bored and we switched to TV. Sebastian's pick was an early 2000's British comedy, "Coupling." It was a relationship sitcom with three men and three women who hang out in a local pub a lot. It was funny, dirty, and I loved it. We laughed through the evening until it was time to go to bed.

 I took to the bathroom first. While I was gone Sebastian stripped down to his boxer briefs. He kissed me before ducking into the bathroom. I flopped over the bed to retrieve his t-shirt and put it on. It was long enough to cover me and I left the covers at the bottom of the bed. My text notification went off. Amy. We'd traded a couple of texts before Sebastian came out. I heard him make a low guttural noise when he saw me. I looked over with a smile and turned my phone toward him, "Amy. She's had a rough day. Katie has an ear infection."

"Ouch. Tell her I hope Katie feels better.”

 I nodded, but that was something I couldn’t do. He crawled into bed beside me, shoving a couple of pillows behind him and unlocking his phone. Amy and I finished and I put my phone on the charger before scooting closer to the man in my bed. He stopped his typing to lift his arm. Once I was settled, he went back to typing. "What are you doing?"

"Gratitude journal."

 "I tried that, but I couldn't come up with anything. I was writing things like red nail polish, deep conditioner, and toast."

The last one made him laugh, "Doesn't have to be anything big. If I’m having a bad day I can look back to see the good stuff and maybe do or find something to feel better. Toast is a lot more useful than walk on the beach." He kissed my head, "Look, here's today."

 I read the words dessert, building security, and family. I said one out loud. "Building security."

"In case Ed comes after me." He scrolled back, "Here's the weekend we met."

 Friday said chocolate chips, first dates, Emma. Saturday was line dancing, holding hands, goldfish. Decent recovery time, condoms, linen closets were under Sunday. Those were the days on the screen. Every one was us. My name is in there. He's grateful for me. And he shared this part of him with me. I pointed to my name, "Me."

"Very grateful for you. Everything I wrote those days was really you. Just different words."

I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I pointed again, "Decent recovery time?"

 He smiled and raised an eyebrow, "I’m not as young as I once was."

 "I have no complaints."

"That's good to hear."

I had something serious to say, "Thank you, Bastian, for sharing your journal with me…"

 He said, “You're welcome” before I had finished.

"and saying you’re grateful for us. All of those are grateful for us. On day one you were grateful for us." He nodded but clearly didn’t understand. "I feel very special that we, that I take up those days. Thank you."

 “Your acting like you didn’t know you were special to me."  He was craning his neck to see my face.

 That was the last thing I wanted him to believe. I ran my fingers over a spot in the middle of his chest, petting him, and shook my head, "No, I knew, I know. But seeing a list of simple little things . . . of us. I feel very lucky.” I looked down where I was touching him, fighting tears. I felt very lucky and thankful for him and it was pulling hard on my emotions.

 If Sebastian noticed he didn’t say anything. I felt his fingers under my chin, turning my face up to his, “I’m the lucky one.”  His lips touched mine in an incredibly soft kiss that grew more intense but stayed soft. He rolled over on top of me and his hand gripped my waist under his t-shirt. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

 “I am.”

 “I want you out of my shirt.”

 I woke up in the morning about a minute before my alarm went off. Sebastian was on his stomach with his arm over my stomach. Where he touched me was warm. I rolled to my side and kissed his perfect lips, "Time to wake up."

 "Five minutes." He pulled the pillow out from under his head and put it over his head.

 I ran my hand along his back," Five minutes."

 It was closer to ten when I got out of the shower. Sebastian had made the bed and was star fished across the duvet." How do you manage to be cute and sexy at the same time?" I kissed him upside down.

"Practice."

 I dressed in a pink and white polka dot A-line sleeveless dress with a round collar that hit above my knee. My white sandals completed the sweet look. Sebastian was sitting at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee when I came down the stairs.

A smile lit up his face, "First grade teacher day two. You look so cute."

 I pulled out the sides of my skirt and curtsied, "Thank you." I looked at the time, "We're early." I opened the refrigerator, "Do you want something to eat?"

 I felt his warmth press behind me and his arms wrap around my stomach, "I do. You."

In a flash, he'd spun me around and his mouth was on my neck. He walked me backward, lifted me onto the breakfast bar, and started pulling up my skirt. "Lay back."

 Sebastian's voice dripped with desire. I kept eye contact and lay back on the counter. He stayed locked on my eyes while he stripped off my panties and pulled me closer to the edge. I lifted my feet to the counter and spread my legs for him. His eyes left mine and focused on what I was showing him. He put his hands on my knees, ran them down my inner thighs, and spread me.

 "Oh god." I arched my neck with the feel of his mouth on me. He neither teased nor rushed me. His tongue circled and lapped at my clit while his fingers moved inside me. Two weekends and he knew how to play my body. Knew how to lick and touch me to get me off or prolong the pleasure. He slid one of his hands up my body and I twined my fingers with his, holding on. "I'm coming." I moaned out his name, squeezing his hand as I came. He squeezed back.

 I dropped my feet off the counter and stretched my arms out, holding onto the edges. Sebastian slipped my panties over my feet and up my legs. I reached out and he pulled me up before lifting me off the counter to set me back on my feet. He knelt to pull my panties the rest of the way up and straightening my skirt. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stood and kissed him. "The things your tongue can do."

 "If we talk about this, I'm going to start thinking about how responsive you are to me and thinking about your body. Then I'm going to get hard." He looked down, "Well, harder and we don't have time for that and it’s a long train ride where I can't take care of it myself."

 I half growled half laughed. Thinking of him touching himself was going to haunt me all day. I stepped back, taking his hand, "Let's get out of here."

 Sebastian drove to the train station. I hit shuffle on the "SING" playlist and we camped it up, even taking a lap around the parking lot before he pulled into the drop off lane. "Meet you around front."

 We walked right into each other’s arms. I could feel his lips pressed to my head, "Another amazing weekend."

"Yeah, it was." I leaned back and we kissed. "Next weekend will be too."

He smiled with the slightest nod, "I'll talk to you later." He kissed me again before letting go. A few steps onto the sidewalk he turned, "Congrats on the win, again."

I blew him a kiss and watched him smile as he walked inside.

 I smiled all the way to work. I fought the urge to go home, curl up around his pillow, and soak everything in. Soak him in. But I did not. I had a busy day and lying in bed daydreaming of sex with the man who said yes when asked if he was my boyfriend is not the way to be productive. He probably just went with it to get Drew to back off. Sebastian didn't mention it again. Neither did I. I am not the "let's define this” girl and we've known each other for a whole eleven days, but I did like when he said “yes”.

Doesn't matter what we call it. Doesn't change the feelings.

 I made it through the first half of my day with a buck ass wild group of children. There were eight days left of school and they were excited. I wanted to tear my hair out. I took my lunch to Mallory’s room and decompressed with friends. They were having the same day I was. Mal brought up the tournament, "I wish I could have come."

I waved her off, "There will be more. Oh, remember that guy Drew I went out with a couple of times?" She and the ther teachers nodded. "He tried to pick a fight with my date. Everybody was drunk, but we're not in high school anymore. It was ridiculous."

"Go back to the date part."

I grinned, "His name is Sebastian. We met last weekend. He lives in the city and came back this weekend. I'm going to him next weekend."

"Is he hot?"

Cindy added, "Is the sex hot?"

"Both." I popped a grape in my mouth and wiggled my eyebrows. I picked up my tray, "Hot. Very, very hot."

 My kids had gym today so I was hoping they would calm them down. Someone knew when I had planning and texted me.

 Sebastian ~ If you woke up one morning with me going down on you... would that be a good thing?

I closed my eyes and winced. This is going to hurt.

Emma ~ Yes, a very good thing.

Emma ~ How do you feel about waking up with me sucking your cook?

 If he's asking for permission I should too.

Sebastian ~ Hard. I feel hard. Thx

 Emma ~ FYI. If I were to wake up with you inside me... also good.

Sebastian ~ I did this to myself.

  Even though I had volleyball practice tonight I headed straight to the gym. The kids’ behavior hadn't improved over the rest of the day and working out would release some of the tension in my muscles. Tension that most certainly was not present when I got to work.

 When I got home from the gym, I set up my iPad on the breakfast bar. I smiled remembering what had gone on here this morning. I pulled out the salad I’d picked up on the way home and hit the button to call Ed. Harper answered, "Hey Sissy. I got awards for most improved reader and most friendly."

Her smiling face wiped away any leftover tension from the day. "That's fantastic, Harper. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Sissy, I'm going to go play." Poof. She was gone.

 Ed's face showed up and he took a dramatic drink from a beer bottle. "Ok, I'm ready. Tell me about him."

I gave him the version between the one my teacher friends and Angie and Eli heard. More detail, but less sex. Besides the last two, Ed was the person I trusted most in the world. Even though he tipped the dial into overprotective I could tell him anything and trust him for an objective opinion. I called my parents if I wanted unconditional love (even if I was wrong) and Ed if I wanted the unvarnished truth. He'd been the first one to tell me Jimmy was cheating on me. Naturally, I didn't believe him. When I showed up in Hawaii after we broke up, he never said I told you so. He filled me with tequila, my favorite Kalua pig sandwich, and let me cry. The next day we sat on our surfboards far out in the water figuring out my next steps. I applied, interviewed, and accepted the long-term sub from a chaise by our pool.

 After we'd gone back and forth for a while, he said, "I like how he treats you."

"Yeah, I do too." I took a breath, "He's different, Ed."

"That's because you like him. You've dated guys, but you haven't really liked someone since the fucking asshole."

I laughed. Ed never said Jimmy's name. He was The Fucking Asshole. More of a title than a name. “True, but still Sebastian is different."

"How?"

"He's kind."

"People think you're kind. You are kind."

"I know." I thought a second. "He's real. Flawed. He owns it. We've talked about what's hard for him, what he struggles with. Like how he overthinks. When he told me what he was doing, where he was stuck, I knew how to make it better."

Ed took another drink of his beer, for thirst this time, not bracing himself. "I always prefer real people with real issues, no matter how messy. People who say they got nothing are liars or so unaware they're not worth the trouble."

 Very true. Those people just have issues that fuck you up when you’re least expecting. "When he’s working on a character, he does a lot of research. For Last Full Measure he read about Army vets, PTSD, battle fatigue. Bucky taught him about brainwashing, torture, and escape. He says his research affects him, he takes it in and it changes him, how he treats people."

Ed was smiling, "I’m back to you really like him. You introduced him to me, after all."

"I did. I thought it would fun and it was." We both laughed. “I like how I feel with him. It’s not all about what he says or what he does. Part of it is I know that I make him feel good too.”

 "Does Amy know?"

I clenched my teeth and hissed in a breath. "I'll be in Georgia in two weeks. I'll deal with it then. She’s been doing well, I guess we'll see."

'You know to call anytime."

"I do."

"Want to know what I've been doing all afternoon?" He didn’t wait for my answer. “Getting texts from your boyfriend with pictures and videos from the games. I told him you were snaking him with those shorts. They didn’t have to be that short, Emiliana."

"They worked." For the game and Sebastian. I ignored the boyfriend comment because Ed would just argue with me and I wasn’t sure he was wrong.

[hanscom]

meet me at the moon [rated: T]

Summary: The Losers get married, to the best of their ability.

Written for the @poly-losers-club Fic Exchange, but mostly for @poetromantics​.

Beverly was admitted to the hospital on a Monday.

It was nothing serious. No, really. Three stitches, max. But Eddie got freaked out by all the blood gushing from the gash on her forehead and insisted on driving her to the ER, full-speed. The others followed at a more reasonable pace, but eventually the calm afternoon waiting room was full of life: six grown men hovering around her, visibly stressed in a variety of ways, from Eddie pacing the room in fast, flurried strides to Richie sprawling across a whole row of seats and complaining loudly about whoever it was that banned smoking indoors. It was enough to give Beverly a headache. But that also might have been the head wound.

It took half an hour for her to be called back. The bleeding had stopped by then, but it had crusted around her shirt collar and itched like crazy. She just wanted to go home and change, but Stan was already guiding her out of her seat and towards the waiting nurse. The nurse didn’t comment on Stan’s presence — probably because Stan just looked so no-nonsense, all intense eyes and heavy frown — but she paused when the others rushed to join them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding uncertain. “Only family is allowed in the room.”

“I’m her brother,” Richie announced instantly.

“Yeah,” Bill chimed in without hesitation. “Me, too.”

“So am I,” Eddie said, but he didn’t sound too sure about it. He’d never been a great liar.

Mike elbowed him and said, “I am, too.”

“He’s adopted,” Richie was quick to add.

“We all are,” Bill agreed.

“Except Ben,” said Mike.

Ben looked startled by the sound of his own name, but he recovered fast. He’d gotten good at playing along with Richie’s schemes over the years. “I’m her husband,” he said. As if to prove it, he moved to Beverly’s free side and looped an arm around her. The way she leaned into him was not entirely for show.

“We’re family,” Stan told the nurse. His strong voice left no room for argument.

The nurse wavered.

Richie pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at her. He didn’t look nearly as intimidating as he probably thought he did. “Listen, lady. You can either let me into that room, or you can leave me here to make a scene. Your call.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. He put a hand on Richie’s arm as if to settle him. “Please don’t get him started,” he whispered urgently to the nurse.

The nurse looked across the room and made eye contact with the receptionist, who had been watching the entire scene with interest. She shrugged and popped her gum. The nurse seemed to take this as permission. She sighed, straighten her clipboard, and led their entourage through the heavy doors and down a blindingly white hallway. She settled Beverly into a hospital bed, took her vitals, and assured them the doctor would see them soon. She didn’t seem happy about it, exactly, but she did smile when Ben thanked her, so Beverly didn’t work up the energy to feel bad.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Riche threw himself onto the doctor’s stool with a groan. “I hate hospitals,” he announced.

“You didn’t have to come,” Bev pointed out. “I’m fine.”

Richie glared at her. “You have a gaping head wound,” he said. “I can practically see your brain matter.” Eddie gagged, then punched Richie’s arm in retaliation. Richie, unrepentant, went on. “Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I stayed home watching Netflix while you withered away in a hospital bed?”

Stan shushed him sharply and looked around, as if they might have missed some stranger cramming into the room with them. “Don’t say boyfriend right now,” he admonished. “We’re her brothers, remember?”

Richie made a face. “It was the best I could do on the spot. Figured it was easier than trying to explain the concept of polyamory to some poor ER nurse.”

“It was a good call,” Bill assured him.

“Bill, please stop encouraging Richie’s stupid ideas,” Stan sighed, his voice taking on the cadence of someone reciting a line they’ve rehearsed a thousand times. Bill’s endless support of Richie’s constant chaos was a well-worn argument in the Loser household.

“Yes, dear,” Bill said dutifully, but when Stan turned away to fuss with Bev’s bedsheets, he winked in Richie’s direction. Richie blew him a kiss in return.

Mike shook his head. “Can’t you guys act like normal people for twenty minutes?” he asked, but he was grinning about it.

“Normal?” Richie repeated, incredulous. “You expect me to act normally while our poor, sweet girlfriend is confined to a sick bed?”

“Poor, sweet sister,” Stan corrected him, as if he didn’t know it was a lost cause.

Richie threw his hands up. “This is stupid,” he said. “No one’s listening. And besides, it’s not my fault Ben always gets to play husband.”

“You’re the one who said you were her brother first,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah, but only because Ben would have blown our cover immediately,” Richie retorted. “He can’t keep his hands to himself for more than twenty seconds.”

Richie, admittedly, had a point. Ben was tactile. He liked to hug, to hold hands, to feel the heat of another person’s skin against his own. Even then, he was standing at Bev’s side, their fingers loosely laced. He smiled self-consciously, but didn’t pull away. “Sorry.”

Bev squeezed his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly. It wasn’t that Bev preferred his presence. She would have been just as content with Mike at her side, or Stan, or one of the others. But Ben took comfort from standing so close to her, and she would never deny him that.

If it were anyone else, Richie would push the issue. Would dig into the soft spot, would wheedle and whine until he got his way. But it was Ben. They were all a little bit soft for Ben. So Richie just smiled and said, “It’s cool, man. You make a good husband.”

“I’d marry you,” Eddie agreed. The only thing he and Richie never fought about was their mutual affection for Ben Hanscom.

“Me, too,” Mike chimed in. Stan and Bill nodded along.

Bev squeezed his hand again. “I would marry the hell out of you,” she told him softly.

And maybe it was the head injury, but it actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea. They could do it in the backyard. She could make her own dress. They wouldn’t even have to invite anyone. It could be just the seven of them, the way it had always been.

“We should do it,” she said.

Ben looked down at her. He was leaning over the bed, his broad body blocking most of the blaring overhead light. He looked like something straight out of a fantasy. She could so easily picture him at the end of an aisle, dressed to the nines in a fitted suit, eyes brimming with happy tears.

“We should get married,” she said, more sure this time.

There was a pause. Slowly, Richie uncurled from his sprawl and sat up straight. His eyes were suddenly very big behind his glasses. “Someone get the doctor,” he gasped. “I think she might have brain damage.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Eddie chastised, but he glanced uncertainly at Bev like he wasn’t entirely convinced it was a joke at all.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Bev?” Bill asked. He raised his hand and made a peace sign. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Beverly rolled her eyes and started to tell them all that she was just fine, thanks very much, but she was interrupted by a quick knock on the door. It opened, and a middle-aged man in a white coat swept in. If he was surprised to find seven people crammed into one examination room, he didn’t show it. He smiled and introduced himself as Dr. Williams, and then he set to work poking and prodding Beverly’s forehead. The gash there wasn’t very long, but it was deep enough to warrant a few stitches. Beverly had expected that, so she allowed him to clean the wound, numb it, and sew it back together. The entire process took less than ten minutes — just long enough that, by the time the nurse returned to handle her discharge paperwork, the marriage conversation seemed to have been forgotten. Eddie was much calmer now that the wound was bandaged, and Richie had slipped out of the room with Bill to share a cigarette. Stan and Mike were both listening patiently to the nurse’s explanation of how to clean around the stitches without damaging them. Ben was still holding her hand. She wanted to get his attention, to insist that she really had meant it, but it didn’t feel like the right time anymore.

—

Time went on. The stitches dissolved. There was barely even a scar left. Her forehead was still a little tender if she put pressure on it, but otherwise, it was like it never happened.

Beverly still thought about it sometimes, though: the whole marriage thing.

Did she want to be married? She’d never considered it before. It had never felt like a possibility. She’d never really been the kind of kid who dreamed about a big, white wedding. The closest she had ever come was the time they’d put on a pretend ceremony in the underground safety of the clubhouse. She’d been ‘marrying’ Bill back then, which had been nice. She’d worn a crown of flowers that Eddie had picked for her. Stan officiated because he was the only one of them who knew anything about religious ceremonies. Richie walked her down the aisle. Ben cried. Mike snapped a few pictures. They had all pooled their money to get the film developed. One of the better shots was still floating around in a photo album somewhere.

They had probably been too old to play pretend, but maybe that was the thing. Maybe they had all known, deep down, that it hadn’t really been pretend at all.

—

Beverly forgot, on occasion, that her boys knew her as well as she knew them. Even better, sometimes.

She had fully decided to forget about the whole thing. It was a ridiculous idea. She couldn’t marry all of them, after all, not officially. And maybe it made her selfish, but she refused to choose. She wanted them all, equally, forever. A wedding probably wouldn’t change things, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.

And then Ben proposed.

Looking back, she really should have expected it. He had been antsy for days, more so than usual. She had walked into a room more than once to find him huddled up with Stan or Mike or Bill, talking in quiet tones that fell silent the second they noticed her. It was suspicious, sure, but her birthday was coming up. All of the guys got a little weird around her birthday — except Richie, who was always weird and couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

Except this one, apparently. Richie woke her up one morning by crash-landing in her bed, covering her face with wet, sloppy kisses. Bill stood off to the side, laughing at her misery. She accepted the attack by going completely limp. Richie was as eager and excitable as a puppy, and sometimes the only defense against him was to ignore him until he got bored and moved on.

But he was particularly persistent that morning. And then, eventually, Bill joined them in the bed, tugging her free from the covers and coaxing her into consciousness with promises of breakfast. “Mike’s cooking,” he said. “He made your favorite.”

It was sort of weird, because her favorite was usually reserved for post-fight apologies. She tried to remember if she’d argued with any of them recently, but she couldn’t remember. Richie was still kissing her face in quick bursts, and it was hard to think when she felt surrounded by both of them, warm and comfortable and sleep-slow.

They eventually maneuvered her out of the bed and into the bathroom. There was a pile of clothes waiting for her. Stan must have picked them out, because everything coordinated perfectly, down to the socks. That was another weird thing. Stan didn’t take over her wardrobe unless she seemed particularly tired or stressed, which she didn’t think she had. But it was still a nice gesture, so she got dressed, brushed her teeth and her hair, and then wandered down the hall and into the kitchen.

The whole house smelled like bacon and vanilla, but the scent was so strong there that her mouth started to water reflexively. Mike was standing at the stove, an apron draped from his neck. He was shirtless underneath it. She crossed the room and stood behind him, arms around his waist, cheek against his back. She could hear his strong heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his breathing. When he said, “Good morning, beautiful,” she felt the deep rumble of his voice.

“Morning.” She kissed his bare back, between his shoulder blades, and then released him. Eddie was sitting on the counter, his feet dangling. She patted his knee and they shared a smile. And then Stan was guiding her to the table, where a fresh cup of coffee was waiting for her. It was already doctored to perfection, perfectly sweet. She took a long, grateful sip. Richie and Bill and Ben were gathered around the table in their usual places, watching her. She wasn’t used to so much attention. Sharing a life with six other people meant there were at least six other topics of conversation at any given time. Now, though, they were all looking at her like she was the only person in the room. She slowly lowered her coffee mug. “Guys,” she said warily. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Bill said, too quickly.

Richie feigned hurt, but he wasn’t very convincing about it. “Can’t we do something nice for you without having an ulterior motive?”

Bev considered the question. It was technically possible, but they were all staring at her as if waiting for something, and there was absolutely something ulterior about that. “You guys are being weird,” she accused.

“Richie’s always weird,” Eddie offered.

“It’s not just Richie,” she countered, casting an accusatory glance around the kitchen. None of them met her gaze for more than a few seconds except for Stan, who was cool as a cucumber, like always.

“We do have something to discuss,” he said, as if that wasn’t perfectly clear, but he raised his hand to cut her off when she opened her mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about. “Breakfast first, okay? Then we’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Beverly hated being left out of the loop, but at the very least none of them seemed angry or upset. Anxious, maybe, but mostly they all looked excited. Richie was practically vibrating in his seat. Bill’s grin was huge. She caught Eddie and Mike sharing a glance, both of them seeming pleased as punch. Ben hadn’t said a word all morning, but when they made eye contact, he winked at her. The kitchen felt warm and welcome. Stan was waiting patiently for an answer, but there was a smile playing around the corner of his mouth, like even he couldn’t fight off his good mood. She sighed, but offered a nod. She could be patient. Probably.

Breakfast dragged on. The boys were usually useless at hiding things from her, but that morning they were all equally tight-lipped, refusing to steer the conversation away from mindless morning chatter. Beverly tried to listen, but she found herself zoning out more than once. Maybe it made her a bad partner, but she didn’t care about the weather or Bruce Willis’ new action movie. She would never say that out loud, of course, but they probably knew anyway. She wasn’t participating much in the banter. She was mostly staring at her plate full of french toast, wondering what the hell might be coming.

Nothing could have prepared her for the ring.

It was like a magic trick. One minute, the boys were all gathered around the table, chattering amongst themselves. And then she blinked, and there was Ben, kneeling beside her chair. No one was speaking. She couldn’t even hear their breathing over the blood rushing suddenly through her ears. Ben was saying something, but she couldn’t hear that, either. All she could do was look back and forth between his moving mouth and his outstretched hand, where the delicate silver band was pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It was inset with a single large diamond, and surrounded on either side by three smaller gems, all different colors. There were seven stones total. Her heart was pounding.

Ben’s lips stopped moving. He was staring at her, looking more and more uncertain by the second. Had he already asked? God, she’d totally missed it.

“Say it again,” she croaked. She needed to hear it.

Ben smiled, somewhere between self-conscious and unbearably fond. “Beverly Marsh,” he said, his sweet voice trembling. “Will you marry us?”

Beverly launched herself at him. He was already unbalanced on one knee, and the force of the impact brought him to the ground. He shouted, and there was a flurry of amused noise from the others, but Beverly held firm and pressed her mouth to every bare inch of his face she could reach. “Yes,” she gasped. She didn’t have to think about it. She’d done nothing but think about it. For months. “Yes, yes, oh my God, yes.”

Richie’s face appear in the periphery. He had knelt down beside them. “I think that’s a yes, bro,” he said, his big mouth beaming. Bev released Ben only to turn onto him, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him in for another fast series of kisses. Bill was next, and then Mike. Stan helped her to her feet and then drew her into his arms, slowing her frenzied attack into something softer. By the time she was passed on to Eddie, she had settled. They didn’t kiss but she held him for a long time, cheek to cheek. It felt wet. She realized they were both crying.

And then there was Ben again, back on his feet. He looped his arms around her and drew her against his broad body. “You mean it?” he asked softly.

“Of course I do.” Beverly didn’t think she had ever meant anything more. “I love you.” Except maybe that.

Ben picked up her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. The gems glittered and gleamed under the light. She turned her hand this way and that, throwing the light, unable to tear her eyes away.

She was getting married. Holy shit, she was getting married.

—

As it turned out, planning a wedding was fun when seven people and no paperwork were involved. Everyone had a job. Mike would take the pictures. Stan was going to officiate. Bill and Ben spent long hours in the backyard, draping fairy lights around trees and along the gutters. Eddie made a thousand trips across the city, taking on every last errand in earnest. Richie mostly just stayed out of the way. It worked.

Bev set immediately to work designing her own wedding dress, but she drew the line at making six suits. Most of the boys already had something to wear, but Eddie’s suit jacket was too small and Richie had never worn formalwear in his life, so a month before the big day, Bev kicked them out of the house and refused to let them return in anything less than a tuxedo. They were gone for a couple hours, and then Richie had swanned through the house in an admittedly well-tailored suit, looking proud and pleased. He claimed the whole experience hadn’t even been that bad, especially when he had convinced Eddie to join him in the fitting room — said, of course, with an emphatic wriggle of his eyebrows. Eddie squawked a few token protests, insisting that was not what happened, but the blush that flared across his face really said it all.

The days ticked down. Some felt like a dream, and some felt like stark, terrifying reality. Beverly asked herself every day if she was ready. Every day, she knew she was.

And then, suddenly, inexplicably, it was time.

Beverly woke up alone in her own bedroom. She dressed herself, dotted on some makeup, and pinned up her hair. Somewhere in the rest of the house, the boys were dragging on their suits. She wished she could be with them, could fix their lapels and straighten their ties, but Stan was a stickler for tradition. Apparently it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, even if it was a fake wedding. Beverly personally thought a wedding with six grooms could stand to break a few traditions, but Stan insisted. 

There was no music to guide her down the aisle. Richie had busted the speakers out of his boombox, and the dog that lived next door barked relentlessly when there was too much noise. So, instead, when Beverly finally opened the back door that morning, she descended the stairs into the yard in silence. Her bare feet made quiet shifting noises against the carpet of grass. Her dress dragged the ground with a soft whisper. The boys were standing in a line, wearing black suits and ties of varying color. It reminded her of her ring, of all the different gems there. She stared at the six of them, all so different from one another. They were beautiful on their own, but all of them together was enough to stop her heart.

Richie started crying almost immediately. That set off Mike, who clung to Bill as if he couldn’t bear to hold himself up under the weight of all the emotion. Bill’s eyes were shiny when he looked at her. Eddie wasn’t looking at her at all, his head ducked down, his shoulders trembling. Even Stan made a noise suspiciously like a sniffle. The only one of them who kept it together was Ben, and that was only because he was staring at her, wide-eyed, as if everything was finally starting to sink in.

“Getting cold feet?” she asked softly, approaching him. 

He reached out with surprising speed, gathering her into his arms. “Never,” he said, and then kissed her with so much passion she sagged against him, knees weak.

Beside them, Stan cleared his throat.

“Ah, leave ‘em alone, Staniel,” Richie goaded. “We’re newlyweds.”

“Not yet, we’re not,” Stan said primly. He gently pried Beverly away from Ben and gave them each a stern look that quickly melted into fondness. “Dearly beloved,” he began when he was satisfied they would keep their hands off one another. “We are gathered here today—”

Beverly couldn’t help her giggle. There was something funny about Stan giving the whole speech in front of their empty backyard. He paused to peer at her, fighting a smile. “Something to add, Miss Marsh?”

“Are we all supposed to say vows?” Bill interrupted. He actually looked nervous.

“What’s the matter, Bill?” Richie slung an arm around Bill’s shoulders, leering down at him. “Don’t tell me you have writer’s block.”

“I’ll show you writer’s block,” Bill muttered, shoving his elbow into Richie’s ribs. Richie yowled, jolting away from him. He accidentally treaded on Eddie’s foot, who shouted and swore a blue streak, which set off the neighbor’s dog. Stan tried to get things back on track to continue his speech, but the dog was howling too long and loud for him to be heard.

There was nothing else to do but for the seven of them to spill back into the house, laughing and jostling against one another, drawn together as if magnetized. Beverly couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She had to touch Stan’s perfect hair, Mike’s brilliant smile. She ran her fingers along Ben’s jaw, and across Bill’s chest. She sat in Richie’s lap on their oversized couch and let Eddie pull her feet across his legs. He didn’t even complain that she was getting dirt all over his new pants.

Silence fell after awhile. Even the dog outside calmed. They could have gone back out, tried again, but none of them made a move. All of a sudden, despite the weeks of effort, it didn’t feel important. That was the thing, wasn’t it? A wedding was nice, but it would never feel as good as quiet moments like those, all of them draped together in small ways, a closed circuit of endless affection. What did it matter if they were married? The ring was nice, but it didn’t change the sweet curve of Bill’s smile, the beautiful drag of Stan’s fingers through her hair, the gentle rhythm of Richie’s breathing, the sharp familiarity of Mike’s cologne, the easy weight of Eddie’s hand on her ankle, the gorgeous taste of Ben’s mouth.

Beverly had been theirs in every possible way since she was a kid. She didn’t know how to belong anywhere else. She didn’t want to figure it out.

And the best part was that she didn’t have to. They had offered her forever, after all.

She fully intended to take them up on it.

[royal-shawn]

King Of Aces || badboy!shawn

this GIF, very good

so @justanotherfangurl272 and I were talking about one of my other fics and she brought up that badboy!shawn would be so cocky about sharing a bed with the reader, and that inspired this. Enjoy!

-

Shawn Mendes, The gang leader of the Jokers, a gang sourced in downtown Toronto. 

Downtown Toronto is not only where the Jokers reside, but where I live as well, rent’s cheap, and I carry pepper spray everywhere I go. I’m not afraid of the Jokers and I’m not afraid of their rival gang, The Breed. 

The Breed are far more lethal than the Jokers, their leather jackets and face tattoos not just for show. If there’s ever murder in downtown Toronto, it’s usually a member of The Breed that gets caught. 

My nervousness about The Breed is small, mostly because I’ve gotten drunk at Ricky’s enough that the Jokers really have an eye on me, especially previously mentioned Shawn Mendes. 

I have been driven home by him on a few occasions, and the back of his motorcycle is always a rush, until now. 

Shawn arrived at my door and told me to pack everything I couldn’t live without any explanation. These essentials fit into a little drawstring bag that is currently hanging on my back as we drive through the countryside. 

The chill of the night was creeping up my back, making me shiver every once in a while, Shawn’s leather jacket not combating the chill anymore. 

Despite the cold, the night sky was very pretty, especially now since no light pollution was destroying the twinkling stars in the sky. 

“Are you cold?” Shawn asks, his voice almost lost over the whipping winds.

“Yeah!” I respond, raising my voice so mine doesn’t meet the same fate. 

“I’ll pull into the next motel, I could use some sleep.” He responds, before picking up speed. 

-

We reach a motel in a few minutes, parking and making our way to the front desk. 

“Welcome!” A lady yells before she appears running out of the back room. “Can we get you a room?” 

“One please,” Shawn says, stepping forward. “Preferably two twins.” 

“We don’t have any of those open, at the moment.” The woman responds, flipping through her notebook. “We have plenty of double beds open if that’s okay.” 

“Done and done.” Shawn grins, slapping his card on the desk. 

-

The room was decent, not disgusting but not the cleanest thing I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t bother me, I set my drawstring bag on the chair in the corner, shrugging the jacket off, setting it on the back of the swivel chair on the desk. 

I turn to see a half-naked Shawn standing next to the bed, typing something out on his phone. “I didn’t bring pj’s, I figured I could live without those.” 

Shawn stops abruptly, looking over at me and smirking.

I press my face into my hand. “You know what I mean!” 

He chuckles, pressing the send button on his phone before tossing the white t-shirt he discarded on the floor in my direction. 

I catch it, getting the hint, and going to the bathroom to change. 

In the mirror I see myself, but with windblown tangled hair, and messy makeup. 

I wash the makeup off my face with water before changing into Shawn’s shirt, his scent overpowering mine. 

I move out of the bathroom, Shawn sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, deep in thought. 

“Hey.” I murmur, moving to sit beside him. “Is there a reason we left so suddenly?” 

He nods. “I’m not going to tell you until I get you far enough out of The Breeds’ reach.” 

“Did I anger them?” I ask. “Is there something I did wrong?” 

Shawn shakes his head. “It wasn’t you.” We make eye-contact, a strong silence filling the room. “I’m tired.” 

I nod. “Me too.” 

We both get into bed, another silence settling over us before Shawn speaks up. “Are you nervous?” 

“No?” I answer. 

“I know, sharing a bed with the King of Aces, it’s a pretty big deal. Don’t lose sleep over it, darling, this is not going to be the last time.” 

I roll my eyes, then roll over to face him. “Sure, I’m very nervous.” 

He chuckles, before letting everything fade to silence. 

The thought creeps up from the depths of my brain: ‘Shawn uses a cocky persona when he’s afraid.’ 

It seems accurate. I smile at my intuition before deciding sleep would be a good idea.

-

I wake up to the smell of food and my stomach growls.

As I’m sitting up, it’s apparent that Shawn isn’t next to me, but in the small kitchenette cooking something. 

I get out of bed, moving to investigate. “Good morning, King of Aces.” I murmur, looking over his shoulder, eggs. 

He smirks. “Good morning, Y/N.” He grins, looking over his shoulder at me. “I’m making food, because we didn’t stop yesterday, and you must be starving.” 

“You must be starving too.” I poke his bicep, a small grin spreading over his features. 

“I’m fine.” He nods, looking over at me. “You’re hungrier anyways.” 

“I’m not eating unless you eat with me.” I smile mischievously, leaning against the refrigerator. 

“Set the table, please,” Shawn requests, pointing at a plastic bag on the counter. 

Inside, there’s a pack of paper plates and a bag of plastic cutlery. “I didn’t realize fine china was on this road trip’s schedule.” 

“I’m a little bit loaded.” Shawn’s tongue sticks out from behind his teeth, making his smile ten times cuter. 

I blush at the thought and set the small table in the corner. 

Shawn takes the skillet off of the stove and brings it to the table. 

He serves us up and sits across from me. 

The smell of the fresh eggs lures me in, convincing me to eat them heartily.

After Shawn and I finish eating, we sit in silence, before I pipe up. “I’m in danger, aren’t I?”

Shawn sighs. “Yeah, you are.” 

I exhale, looking at the table. “Am I going to die?” 

Shawn launches out of his seat, kneeling in front of mine. “Look at me, love.”

I turn to look down at Shawn.

He rests his hands on my bare thighs. “You will not die and I promise you that. They’ll have to go through all the Jokers and then me to get to you, and they will not be able to get through all of us.” 

“I’m scared Shawn.” I near-whisper, placing a hand on one of his. 

Shawn grabs the hand on top of mine. “You have no reason to be.” 

I open my mouth to argue but nothing comes out. I feel safe with Shawn and not even death looming over me could change that. 

Shawn’s free hand moves to my neck, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. He leans up and nearly presses his lips to mine before a knock at the door interrupts us. 

“Housekeeping!”

-

Today was grey and bleary. Nothing to look at as we rode through the countryside. 

“Where are we going!” I shout. 

He answers quickly. “There’s a group of people in Winnipeg who will shelter us for a bit.” 

“How much longer then?” 

“We’ll get there by sundown I think, then they’ll get us something to eat and drink, a change of clothes, then of course shelter,” Shawn shouts over the whipping wind. 

I squeeze his torso, resting my head on his back. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll wake you when we arrive.” Shawn soothes softly.

We pull into the driveway of a house, which was poorly kept on the outside and looked all-in-all abandoned, besides the lights on inside.

He parks the bike on the sidewalk and we go to the door, where Shawn knocks. 

My hands are shaking as I look around the sketchy house. 

The green peeling door opened to reveal a big man, whose long hair was pulled into a man bun on the top of his head. “Shawn!”

Shawn grins. “Hey Carlos, we’ve come to take up your offer.” 

“This is the girl I presume.” Carlos wonders aloud, looking over at me. 

I lift a hand and wave. 

“This is Y/N.” Shawn introduces.

I hold a shaky hand out for handshake but Carlos wraps his big arms around me.

“A long day of traveling right?” Carlos asks. 

I nod. “Very long.” 

“I’ll let you go to the women, they can help you out.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll take care of your Shawn.” 

I nod, slipping past Carlos to look for the women. 

A woman walks out of a corridor and sees me. “You must be her!” 

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m her.” 

She smiles before calling down the corridor again, a few other women come out to see. 

I smile awkwardly as they talk softly amongst themselves in soft tones. 

The first woman ushers me into the corridor before pressing palms to my back and pushing me into a bedroom. 

“This is where you will sleep, would you like help getting cleaned up?” She asks. 

“Could you comb my hair?” I ask.

One of them nods, leaving to find a hairbrush. 

“I will get you a change of clothes.” The oldest-looking one says before leaving also. 

The last, youngest one sits next to me on the bed. “I’m sorry that danger looms above you.” 

“It’s okay, I’m safe now.” 

-

After I’m groomed and I take a shower. I’m left alone in my room, to adjust. 

The rest of the house is near silent, footsteps quieted by the chipping door. 

I open the door of my room to look for Shawn, but he’s already there, poised to knock. 

“Hi.” I breathe, stepping aside to let him in. I close the door behind him and turned to look at him. 

“Hey.” He replies, plopping himself down on the bed. 

“Do you know these people?” I ask. 

“Sort of, they’re always putting out messages to people that might need help.”

“Why? Are you paying them to help us?” 

He shakes his head. “They like to help, which makes sense.” 

“Well, why does it make sense?” 

“They’re nuns and priests who have been ‘fired,’ if that’s the word for it.” He uses his fingers to make air quotes.

“I guess that does make sense, but since they’re a bunch of Catholics, wouldn’t they be bothered that you’re in here?” I ask, moving closer. 

Shawn shrugs. “I didn’t want to sleep in the same room as those guys, nor the girls. They keep one room open for whoever they’re helping.” 

“So I got the room?” I ask, standing before Shawn, looking down at him. 

“Yeah, they set it up like this.” He says. “I’d rather sleep with you than with some guys.” 

I close my eyes as heat rises to my cheeks. “Thanks?” 

“You know what I meant.” He chuckles. 

I move to sit next to him. “So can you tell me what happened with The Breed?”

“I guess,” Shawn says, moving to lay on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. “One of the members of The Breed attacked one of mine, so I did what any logical person would do and vandalized their vehicles and home. I slashed tires and I painted the Jokers on every wall. They retaliated by sending one of my men to me, injured and bleeding. They threatened you, which took things a step too far.” 

“Is he okay?” I ask. “Your member?” 

Shawn nods. “A few cracked ribs, but that was it.” 

“That’s scary.” I breathe. “Why did you take me? Why couldn’t one of the more minor members?” 

“I feel very strongly toward you, Y/N.” He says. “I wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of you being off with another man for so long.” 

“What do you mean by feel strongly?” I ask, folding my arms around my chest.

“Don’t play dumb.” Shawn shakes his head, eyes locked to the ceiling. “You know what I mean.” 

“I know what you mean, but-”

“But what?” He sits up suddenly. “I like you, but you’re out of my league.”

“Shawn.” I start. 

“No.” He moves quickly, closer to me. “You’re are way too good for me.” 

“You don’t get to judge that.” I murmur, touching his face. “That’s not fair.” 

“It’s so fair, I know me best.” He murmurs, reaching up and stroking my face.

“I know me best,” I repeat him. “I can handle you, Shawn, trust me.”

“I trust you but I don’t trust me,” Shawn whispers, his eyes searching mine. 

“I do.” I press my forehead to his. “Shawn, I like you too.” 

“You do?” He asks, surprised. 

“I do, and I’m sick of pining.” 

“I am too.” He sighs. 

“Then stop.” I smile. “I’m right here, kiss me.” 

He grins. “Done and done.” 

He presses his lips to mine, they’re lightly chapped but it makes the longing kiss all the better. 

My hands move effortlessly through his curls, melting to him. His arms were on either side of my face. 

Fireworks erupt through my stomach, making my fingertips tingle. 

The loud unmistakable rev of a motorcycle pulls us away from each other.  

“Stay here,” Shawn mutters, moving toward the door. 

“Shawn,” I whisper. “What’s happening?” 

He swallows. “They’re here.” 

@sillylittlemary @iliveformarvel

Hope you enjoyed :))

[killmongerkink]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Erik, your roommate and friend, comes home from work drained and sick. After heading off to bed, you awake to strange noises and follow them back to his room. Little did you know what you would find behind closed doors.

Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens X Black!Reader

Warning: masturbation, dirty talk, a dash of smut.

Length: 4k

BTW: idk why this is so long, but i hope you all enjoy & please show this some love bc i’ve re-written this like 10 times already smh. sorry if there’s any spelling errors

Part 2

MASTERLIST

You stayed silent, swirling your fork continuously in your plate of spaghetti as you watched your roommate sniffle roughly for the tenth time, his eyes fighting to stay open. It really didn't make sense for him to be fighting his fate with sleep, yet here he was ... holding back yawns and rubbing his nose roughly with the back of his hand. "Well that's ... disgusting." You mumbled, sighing heavily as you reached over to grab him a tissue. "Why don't you just take some medicine and sleep it off?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

You really had no idea why this man insisted on being stubborn. You figured you could just ignore him for the rest of the night and go on about your business, but you knew you were way too nice to do that. If you did, you'd just be staring at your door the whole time, fighting the urge to make him some ginger tea or get him extra blankets. But you knew Erik. He wouldn't allow you to take care of him in the slightest. He was too big-headed, way too arrogant .. and simply a dumbass if you were being honest. He could be on the floor dying and he'd still tell you to leave him alone. You didn't understand his logic most of the time, but figured he was grown enough to make his own choices ... as dumb as they may be.

"You gonna stare me down all night?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you blinked quickly and look back at your food. Another sniffle met your ears a second later, this one making you cringe at the sound of thick mucus filling the kitchen.

"That's it." You said more to yourself than him.

You moved towards the cabinet and opened it, hoisting yourself up on your tippy toes as you tried to reach for the top shelf. You really weren't thinking when you allowed him to talk you into getting this fancy ass condo together. While it was nice, the cabinets were way too tall, you could never clean the floor to ceiling windows and god forbid you even attempted to change a lightbulb around here. In the back of your mind, you figured he had purposely chose this apartment because it would allow you to need him. He was weird like that. As much as he would huff and puff when you would ask for his help with a simple task, you knew that he liked the feeling of being needed.

When you came to the conclusion that you were just embarrassing yourself, you plopped back down on your feet and looked at him.

"Are you gonna even help me?" You rolled your eyes, watching as he stared at you with a half bored, half amused expression.

"I'm good."

You were this close to telling him off, but decided against it. Fights with Erik never ended in your favor. Somehow he was always able to flip the script and make it your fault, having such a way with words that you would start to second guess yourself and your stance in any given situation.

"Well you better pray I don't fall and bust my head open, you know the cops won't hesitate to snatch your ass up."

Ending your smart ass of a comment with a smile, you turned back around and raised your leg, resting a knee on the counter as you struggled, but finally succeeded in pulling yourself up. The countertop dug into your knees painfully, making you sway back and forth in effort to not be on them too long and you snatched the medicine pack from the cabinet. Huffing out a sigh, you made zero effort to sit down lightly as you fell back onto your butt and turned your body, sitting down.

As you were checking the expiration date on the half empty box of DayQuil flu pills, you didn't notice Erik's gaze on you.

Matter fact, you never noticed his gaze on you.

You had seen the women he would associate himself with and you were the exact opposite. While they all had long hair down their backs, you opted to rock your natural hair in your usual braid out or space buns. While they all wore tight clothing that excentuated their curves and hips, you felt most comfortable in a big oversized t-shirt and sneakers. They would be bold and blunt with what they wanted from the world, while you just stayed in the cut and let life drag you wherever it wanted to. To say you were the opposite of his type was an understatement, but you learned to deal with it. Everyone had their own type and you just weren't his.

Although you wish you were.

Throughout your months of living together, you tied to date around and make him jealous, hoping that Erik would magically realize that he wanted you to himself and demand that you see no one else but him. And you would've happily obeyed to his demands, but once again .. that was a fairy tale you had conjured up in your head. You knew that he could never like someone like you, and after a while you began to accept that.

Erik had wanted to fuck with you the first day he ran into you. You had this innocent glow that he wanted to corrupt in the worse ways. He would notice you on campus being the perfect little student that everyone knew you to be. Other people, including himself, would walk into class late with just a pencil behind their ear and their phone. Yet, you'd be one of the few with a large book bag next to them as you had notes, paper, and books spread out in front of you ready to learn. While everyone stood at the university bulletin board looking for the latest club flyer, you were pulling off babysitting and tutoring ads.

You were different and he liked that. He knew that his chances of getting with you weren't really slim. He'd seen the way you'd look at him when you thought he wasn't watching, but you were one of the few females he was cool with. Fucking up a good friendship just for a quick nut was dumb, didn't mean he didn't think about you though.

Your body is what caught his attention at first. Short and super thick, like real thick. Smother me with your thighs thick, but you seemed to not appreciate your extra curves. You liked to cover up and wear baggy clothes, something that he found cute but also hated. On one rare occasion, you came to him and asked for his opinion on your outfit. There was some important presentation you had to attend and the attire was business casual. You walked into his room, giving him a complete 360 of your white blouse and fitted gray skirt, the dimples in your ass pronounced. He probably jerked off to that imagine about three times that night.

Honestly, you were his dream girl in every aspect, but you were too good for him. You actually had positive things going on in your life and a future that rivaled his own pointless one. One day you'd be some successful ass doctor, while he was still scrounging around and doing the same ol' same ol'.

"Here, take two of these and go lie down. Don't even try to say you're fine, because that damn snot bubble you're trying to keep down is saying otherwise." You said before he could even get out a breath and placed the tablets on a napkin for him.

You left the box on the counter, figuring that he would need some later and started to pick up the dirty dishes and place them into the sink. After about 30 minutes, all the leftovers were packed away, the dishwasher was running and the stove and counters were cleaned. Erik has mumbled under his breath all the way to his room after helping, but you could care less. Atleast you could go to bed knowing you had tried to help him get better.

After your nighttime routine was completed, you dropped own onto your bed and cuddled your pillow as you waited for the sandman to come and whisk you away for the night.

3:57 am

You stared at your phone as you laid still. The sound of a loud thump had pulled you from your sleep approximately 15 minutes ago and you had been hearing strange noises on and off since. It couldn't have been an intruder, could it? If you remembered correctly, Erik made sure to lock the door after he came in from work.

Still, someone could've been experienced with locks and was now roaming the apartment. Or maybe it was your neighbors who had kids? What if someone was attacking them? You decided to play it smart and text Erik first, for all you knew it could’ve been him.

Minutes went by without a reply back and you rolled your eyes. Every other night he was up doing god knows what, yet the one time where you needed him to be awake and alert, he wasn't?

"Answer your fucking phone." You whispered to yourself.

When you finally came to the conclusion that he was going to be of no help, you quietly got out of your bed, wincing as it croaked underneath you. Damn boxspring. You opened your side table and pulled out your bright pink taser. It was a gift from one of your girlfriends that was given as a joke, yet now you were thankful for her crazy ass. She'd definitely be proud to know that you were about to put it to good use. Bracing yourself, you said a silent prayer and cracked open your door, holding your breath as you waited for movement to catch your ear.

THUMP.

Being the dumbass that you were, instead of waiting for the intruder to come to you, you decided to be a bold bitch and leave the safety of your room. If this was a horror movie you would've been cursing at the lead. You never leave where you are, always let the killer come to you. Not thinking, you continued to follow the noise until you were stopped in front of a door ... Erik's door to be exact.

Was he hurt? Was someone in his room? Was he currently taking his last breath as you stood frozen in front of his door? With your finger on the trigger of your taser, you quickly opened his door hoping to catch whoever it was by surprise. Little did you know how much of a surprise you were actually in for.

Erik sat in front of his desk, headphones in both ears, eyes unmoving and trained on his iMac screen. His nostrils flared as his bottom lip was lodged under the top row of his teeth, the air releasing from his nose coming out loud and heavy. Trailing your eyes down lower, you were met with his naked upper half, the screen illuminating on his skin and making his scars look as if they were glowing. You tried to distract yourself by looking at his computer screen, but that was a mistake. The screen showed a girl that looked a lot like you on all fours, one of her hands underneath her she pumped her fingers into her pussy roughly, her face contoured in pleasure as you heard her moans through his headphones. You looked away, eyes fixated back on Erik's face and you fought internally not to look lower. A part of you deep down knew that there was no going back once you caught a peek, but you couldn't help it. You had to.

Taking a quick breath, your eyes shifted and you felt your knees buckle beneath you, your taser falling from your hands. Your eyes twitched momentarily as you blinked, unable to believe what you were seeing.

Was this a dream? Was this all some sick, twisted, extremely sexy dream that your mind had conjured up?

Erik's large hand was moving up and down in even strokes, his hand gripping the black fleshlight tightly and creating a vile squelching sound each time it swallowed his dick. Every once in a while the fleshlight would hit against the desk, creating the loud thump that had you worried earlier. His other hand was gripping his base, his fingers cupping his balls underneath as his hips started to roll upwards. A second later he pulled the toy off of him, opting to use both of his hands instead as he increased his pace, your eyes finally getting to see what he actually looked like. The view was better than anything you could've guessed. A thick broad vein ran along his shaft, the glare from the computer causing it to glisten and look as if it was dipped in sugar syrup, the fluid motion of both his hands gliding up and down with a good amount left abandoned every time he reached his head letting you know that it was big enough to choke on.

"Fuck baby.."

Your eyes snapped up and met his, his lip now released as he smirked at you, staring in your eyes. You shuffled back slightly, your hand gripping the doorknob tighter as another grunt met your ears. You were slightly embarrassed at being caught. Any normal person would've apologized profusely and slammed the door behind them, yet here you were. Your mouth opened to spill whatever random excuse you could think, your mind going into overdrive.

"Eri- .. I didn't mean to .. I was just-"

"You got a sexy ass mouth." He mumbled, turning his body suddenly so he was facing you head on. Slouching down in his chair, he spread his legs causing his sweatpants to lock around the top of his thighs, almost as if he was silently begging you to step forward.

Your mind was telling you leave and just deal with the awkward repercussions in the morning, but your feet seemed to have a mind of their own as you slowly walked towards him. No words were said between the both of you after that. He simply nodded down to the floor and the next thing you knew, your knees were digging into the plush carpet. It was almost as if he was a puppet master. With the flick of his finger or nod of his head, you were following his silent commands with no resistance. He kept looking at you as he reached over and pulled his headphones from the computer input, the sounds from the girl filling the air around you. You couldn't front, between her moans and his glare, you were turning into mush. Watching the grip he had on his dick had you desperately yearning to play with yourself, you hand rubbing against your thigh catching his attention and causing him to lick his lips.

He leaned his head towards you, his dreads casting shadows over his face.

"Bout time you came. I been waiting for you."

Having him so close to you made you want to shrink away and disappear. You had been around Erik long enough to see the kind of effects he had on girls. The amount of drama that females had gone through the get his attention was wild. Switching up on their friends, changing their appearance, one even went as far as quitting her job just so she could spend the week with him in Miami. Bitches were crazy, or maybe it was Erik who was making them that way.

"You came to take care of me again? Always going out of your way to make sure I'm straight. You a good lil bitch huh?"

You mouth hung open, the thoughts in your head mimicing someone smashing their hands on a computer keyboard. If anyone else was to talk to you like this, you were pretty sure you would've gave them a dirty look and tell them to back the fuck up, but for some reason, hearing those words come from Erik's mouth made you moaning mess.

Literally.

Catching what you were doing, you felt embarrassment bubble inside of you. What was wrong with you? Were you really getting turned on by this man calling you a bitch? Coming to terms with it, you accepted that you were. There was a tiny part of you buried deep down that always fantasized about someone calling you names, treating you like a rag doll as they filled every hole you had. You just didn't think this someone would be Erik.

"You like that?" He watched as you nodded your head, a chuckle leaving his lips and his hand quickly gripped your face, causing your lips to pucker like a blow fish. "Always knew you were a freak."

Without another word, he pulled you forward causing you to shuffle quickly and grab onto the handles on his desk chair in order not to fall. You were pulled right up to his dick, the large statue staring back at you menancingly before it was being rubbed against your lips. You let him entertain himself for a while, enjoying the feeling of him getting off to your plush sets. You fixed them into suction cups, sucking the skin as he bucked his hips up and down, your tongue pressing against him and your lips spreading the wetness around him.

It was then that a sniffle met your ears, causing you to remember the events from the night before. You looked up at him, holding back your smile when you saw his red nose, which was extremely cute if you had to be honest. You moved back, softly moving his hands away and grabbing him fully in yours. He hissed when you started twisting your hand around his length. He was warm .. almost hot. How long had he been masturbating?

"You sick and all you could think about was jerking off?"

"All I could think about was you. I caught what you were doing earlier.” Caught of guard, your hand halted for a spare second, face twisted in confusion. All you did earlier was make dinner, like you usually did since he couldn't cook anything more than rice and ramen. You went to reply and ask what he was talking about when he rested his hand over yours, the both of your hands now working together over his length.

"Climbing up on the counter in just your t-shirt, ass hanging out at the bottom. You think you slick?"

"I didn't know it was out.."

He chuckled, like a real genuine chuckle, as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.

"Come here girl."

You assumed you were moving too slow, because only a second or two later he was lifting you up and situating you onto his lap, your thighs pressing against the chair handles. You remembered when he had ordered this big ass gaming chair, claiming the plushed back support was worth the grand he'd spent on it. There were so many things you could've spent a thousand dollars on and it for damn sure wasn't no chair, but it did come in handy. With its wide handles and large seat, you were more than comfortable even with your large thighs pressed against the sides. He bounced his legs roughly, the force causing your breast to bounce against your chest. If someone were to tell you that you'd be sitting in his lap, hand wrapped around his dick on a Tuesday night.. you would've laughed. A real hearty one as if you were watching a Katt Williams special. Yet, here you were. You couldn't believe it.

"What are we doing?" The question came from your lips in a soft whisper, almost as if you were scared for his answer. A part of you were. Maybe he would sit back and realize just how crazy this whole situation was before pushing you off and telling you to get out. Maybe he'd realize that you were still the same girl you'd always been and ask you what the fuck you were doing in his room. All of the negative things he could've responded with ran through your head. Why did you have to ask that?

"What you think we doing?" He leaned his head back, eyeing you. Before you could think of what to say, he reached and started scrolling on the computer.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you." You looked at him annoyed, going to grab his hand away from the mouse, just for him to move it quickly. Here you were trying to talk to him and he thought the computer was more important?

"I don't want us regretting this in the morning. We fucking live together Erik, we’re supposed to be friends. This is gonna be so awkward.. oh my gosh."

Looking past your lust momentarily, you realized just how messy this was. Everyone knew that friendships couldn't work after hooking up. Sure, people would fake the funk and act like they were buddy buddy after, but you knew the truth. It would be weird and uncomfortable. You'd slowly start hanging out less, one of you always busy and out the house, no longer able to hold conversations with one another. Eventually one of you would have to move out, there was no question about it. God forbid you had to move back in with your parents, not even to mention how many questions they would have. Maybe you could find a new place, or try to get something on campus .. or- sound coming from his speakers caught you off guard.

You turned to the right and watched as the PornHub logo popped up before the video started. It was of a black couple, the girl sitting on the guys lap as he rubbed her ass. They started making out heavily, the girls moans ringing through as the man started to roughly grope her.

"Nothing's gonna go left. I ain’t gonna let you get away from me so easily, trust me. Just relax and let me take care of you like you take care of me. Now start stroking." Erik wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed your forehead, casting them down towards your nose and lips before detouring towards your neck.

Your blurry eyes set on the large screen, taking in the sight before you and realizing he was pretty much mimicking them. When a loud slap rang through the room, Erik would make sure to follow it up with a slap of his own. When the couple would kiss loudly, Erik would grab you by the neck and kiss you roughly, tongue all in your mouth and down your throat as his lips pretty much covered yours.

"How many times have you watched this?" You trembled, goosebumps forming against your skin as your eyes closed momentarily. Your body was way too worked up and you could tell he was too by the amount of pre cum that had leaked from his head onto your hand, his wetness coating him everytime you caressed him. He was too busy fondling with your pussy from the back to answer. His middle finger dipping perfectly between your lips and leaving barely there touches against your clit.

"Enough to know I wanna fuck you like that." His finger bypassed the material of your underwear and finally slipped in, your body shuddering as you started rolling your hips. One finger wasn't enough and you were pretty sure two would just barely itch the scratch you had built up. His command to “open your fucking eyes” caused you to look back at the screen, seeing the couples positions now flipped. The girl laid back on the seat, her legs in the air as the man positioned his dick at her entrance, one long stroke allowing him to enter as the girl cursed profusely.

"Dreamed of fucking you in this chair, your ass hanging off it as your knees press against your chest, big ass titties bouncing for me."

"Must be a dream cause I'm not that flexible." You joked, earning a bite at your earlobe.

"You'd be surprised what the body can do when the right one handles it."

taglist: @chaneajoyyy @softnani @iamrheaspeaks @thehomierobbstark @honeytoffee @madamslayyy @destinio1 @theogbadbitch @supersizemeplz @amethyst1993 @bakarisangel @marvelpotterlove

[let-it-raines]

Not Your (soul)Mate {12/16}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/N: As always, thanks to @captainsjedi for all of the time and effort she put into making all of the wonderful artwork for this story! It’s the coolest thing to get to have❤️ And thank you to the organizers of @cssns!

Also, look! I add a chapter! You guys now get an epilogue! Woohoo!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @xellewoods @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark @cssns

-/-

Killian: But categorically, you cannot tell me that cold pizza is better than fresh out of the oven pizza.

Emma: Ugh. I’m not saying that. I’m saying that if you get nasty delivery pizza, it’s just as good cold as it is warm.

Emma: If you’re getting wood fired pizza, obviously you eat that shit warm.

Killian: ‘Eat that shit warm’ is not a sentence I ever wanted to read.

Emma: Don’t make it gross.

Killian: It’s too late for that.

Emma: I seriously want Ariel to get a pizza oven in her house because I have to put on a bra to go to Eric’s restaurant.

Killian: I mean, I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t.

Emma: Again, don’t make it gross.

“Are you texting your boyfriend again?”

Emma jumps in her office chair, her phone tumbling out of her hands and onto her desk, bouncing around until it lands on top of her computer’s keyboard, jamming down on several keys all at once like a toddler that just got one of those toys that make too much noise when you press a button. That’s not going to mess the database she was going through up or anything. They finally got the funding to computerize their files, so she spends all of her days doing just that. She’s really regretting putting in that request right about now. She won’t in a few weeks, but she does now.

(At least they didn’t have to make a calendar or do a bake sale. She really doesn’t need to see a picture of David wearing, like, a “Kiss the Cook” apron and nothing else just to raise a little money.)

She also regrets tossing her phone in the air and how quickly her heart is beating. David’s going to see the nerves all over her face, going to see how frazzled she is, and he’ll see right through it. Hell, he pretty much already does. At least he’s a hell of a lot more chill than Mary Margaret.

Not like that’s hard.

(What, like it’s hard? Elle Woods for the win, always.)

Last night she was eating dinner with them at the farmhouse, and for approximately three seconds she looked down at a text on her phone and apparently smiled. She’s sure it was nothing more than a slight curve of her lips, a whisper of happiness, but Mary Margaret practically threw her fork across the table (which is a great way to stab someone in the eye) and demanded to know who she was talking to.

It was Killian. It always seems to be Killian.

She’s not sure how she feels about that even if she’s admitted to herself that she kind of (definitely, really, truly) likes him. It’s a very odd feeling that makes her soul feel like it’s not connected to her body.

She told Mary Margaret that it was Ariel complaining about how much it sucks to be eight months pregnant in the summer heat. The fact that Mary Margaret didn’t call Ariel right then and there and offer up every bit of advice was a miracle. Honestly, looking back, Emma knows that she should have said that she was talking to Ruby about a date that she has. Mary Margaret rarely asks for more details on Ruby’s dates than what Ruby offers up, not that the girl leaves a lot to be desired. It’s one of her best and worst qualities all at once.

But Mary Margaret believed her and got carried away talking about the joys and sorrows of motherhood, and if it weren’t for David, she would have gotten away with her lie unnoticed.

She feels like a freaking Scooby Doo villain thinking something like that.

If only she had a creepy mask to take off too.

Or maybe not. That could be weird. No, definitely weird.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, and you know it,” she says as calmly as she can, reaching forward and grabbing her phone only to look up at David and the smirk that’s plastered on his face with his hands behind his back. “What’s with the creepy look you’ve got going on there?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“So are you.” He moves his hands from behind his back to reveal a small vase full of yellow roses and whatever that white filler flower is. It’s some weird name like breath of a baby or baby’s breath because that’s totally what a flower should be called. “Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t send baskets of baked goods and flowers to my friends.”

She’s definitely going to kill Killian. The word is in his name, so it’s basically fate.

Murder should not be where her mind goes.

That is probably not the reaction most people have when they’re sent flowers by the man they may possibly have some major feelings for, but she is not most people. She thinks of murder when she should be thinking of...romance? Is that the word she’s looking for? Do these flowers signal romance?

It’s all confusing. Seriously. She has no idea what’s going on. She has no idea if there should be feelings of romance or murder or even friendship.

Okay, friendship seems like the best option. Murder seems like the worst.

“Those probably aren’t for me,” she lies, knowing that it’s a horrible one, especially since David already knows who sent them.

David rolls his eyes before placing them on her desk. “Your name is on the note.”

She glances toward the flowers and at the note, Killian’s handwriting largely penned across the envelope, before she looks up at David, nerves working their way down her arms. Which, technically thinking, that’s how nerves work, but she was never really very good at biology.

“Did you read it?”

“I can be an ass, but I’m not going to read the closed note that your not-boyfriend sent you.” David shrugs his shoulders and sits down in his desk chair, rolling it up underneath the desk. “And I’m not as nosy as my wife.”

“Which is why I can spend so much time with you.”

“You have to spend time with me. Did you notice that we’re missing the hard copies of the files for the Anderson case from two years ago?”

“Yep. I’ve already emailed the records office at City Hall to see if they have anything. I don’t know why it would be there, but it always could be.”

“If this town ever had serious crime, we would be screwed.”

“Hey no, I kick ass. We could totally work that thing out.”

“You’d intimidate everyone until they confessed.”

“I am a very intimidating woman.”

“Who receives flowers from men who are pining after her.”

She huffs, not wanting to even respond to that, but she grabs her empty to-go cup from her coffee this morning and throws it at David, hitting him in the back of the head. He doesn’t even acknowledge it, letting the paper fall to the ground and clatter against the tile floor all while he hums to himself a theme song that she recognizes from one of Leo’s shows…which means she’s heard that theme song far too many times since it’s not her kid.

Seriously.

And Killian Jones is not pining after her. Definitely not.

(David knows far too much, but at least he doesn’t know that Killian is her soulmate.)

They fall back into work after that since they are technically supposed to be competent professionals in a very loose sense of the word, and she tries not to look at the vase of flowers on her desk for the next few hours, telling herself that it’s not a big deal and she absolutely will not read the note until she’s finished getting through this section of files. She will do her job first…whatever it is with Killian can come second.

Surprisingly, working on her computer keeps her busy until her shift is over, and since it’s Friday, she picks up her vase of flowers and holds them in her lap as she drives home, hoping that there’s not pollen or anything to get onto her shirt since she knows from experience that it’s hard to get out. Plus, she really likes this shirt. And it’s not until after she’s changed out of it and into some shorts and a t-shirt that she remembers to check her phone and the note that came with the flowers.

The note with the flowers comes first. Priorities and all that.

Swan,

So I couldn’t decide between sunflowers and yellow roses. And before you get any ideas as to why I’ve sent you flowers (besides the fact that I imagine whoever delivers them to you will tease the hell out of you. I’m hoping for Dave.), just know that Luis and Luca made me buy a voucher booklet from their school, and the one to the floral shop was about to expire. So it was either you or Will, and Will isn’t quite as pretty as you are.

I hope they bring a little extra sunshine to your day.

Killian

She pulls out her phone and sends of a quick text, unable to stop the small smile that’s formed on her face. Unable to want to stop it, really, as she falls back against the couch, her legs hanging over the end.

Emma: I’m glad you used your flower shop voucher on me.

Killian: Yeah, well, like I said, the other option was Will.

Emma: If he comes over tonight, I’ll tell him they’re for him.

Killian: They viewing apartments still?

Emma: Yep.

Emma: I have ‘All By Myself’ playing on repeat.

Killian: That’s very fitting.

Emma: I thought so. Any fun plans for you tonight?

Killian: I am wrapping all of the gifts for tomorrow and then going to sleep early to celebrate the near end of summer and my mildly busy season.

Emma: You are the life of the party.

Killian: Just wait until the baby shower tomorrow. I’m going to crush all of those awful games. No one can change a diaper as fast as I can.

Emma: Is that on your resume?

Killian: Yep. Liam is a bloody stickler of a boss. The skills we have to have here are insane.

Emma: I thought you were co-owners? I don’t think of Killian Jones of ever being anything other than a boss.

Killian: I have that commanding of a presence, do I?

Emma: Well, your ego does demand a lot of the space in the room.

Killian: Luckily for you, I’m happy to share the space so your ego can have a little room to breathe as well.

-/-

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s to the sound of movement in Belle’s bedroom, and she instinctively pulls her pillow over her face. Maybe it’s to cover her ears. Maybe it’s to smother herself over the sounds that she’s hearing in the next room. Who knows? She certainly doesn’t. And as sad as she is to be losing Belle as a roommate whenever she and Will find a place of their own, she is certainly not going to miss the muted sounds of Will’s dirty talk.

Seriously.

A woman can only take so much.

(Belle can apparently take a lot. She keeps asking for more.)

Instead of suffering in silent misery, she gets up out of bed and slips into a pair of sandals, figuring she can go check her mail just to get out of the apartment while Belle and Will finish. She and Killian have mostly been texting over the last few weeks, their conversations going deep into the night and throughout the day, but they’re also still sending letters. It’s a weird thing, she knows, and every internal instinct that she has is telling her to burn the letters and run, but something keeps her from setting it all aflame.

Someone.

She’s lost her mind. She really has. Killian is…he’s Killian. He’s a nice, handsome guy who makes her laugh and causes the bricks weighing down her shoulders to lift one by one until she’s not feeling quite so weighed down anymore. He’s her – they match up well, and she still doesn’t know how to feel about that. She knows how she feels about him, she knows that she likes him, that she enjoys talking to him in the limited way that they can, but then, in the back of her mind that demon comes out and whispers in her ear that he only likes her because they’re soulmates, that the knowledge is tainting their...relationship thing.  

That’s been one of her worst fears ever since she found it.

Because what if she falls in love and he doesn’t? What if they break up? What if it doesn’t work out? What does she do then? What happens if the one person she’s supposed to be with forever doesn’t want to be with her? Is she supposed to then live out the rest of her life as the poor girl who was too broken for even the universe to help out?

The ‘what ifs’ kill her.

Not really. She’s obviously still alive and breathing and all that fun jazz, but they still keep her up at night wondering of all the ways this could go wrong. And she doesn’t really know how any of this can go right. She likes sex. It’s a great time, it feels freaking fantastic, but she and Killian can’t possibly live out the rest of their lives wanting to constantly have sex whenever they have conversations. Logistically, that’s not possible. And, like, she knows it’s better now than the first time they met, than the second time too, but every time she spends an extended amount of time with him, especially when they talk, all she wants to do is grab him by the collar again and kiss him.

Just without the clothes and all.

Definitely without the clothes.

If she could put into words how she’s feeling, she’d write it in one of these damn letters and never mail it simply so that she can maybe understand.

Understanding is never going to happen.

There’s no one at the mailboxes or in the laundry room, so before she even gets her mail, she runs back upstairs and grabs her basket of clothes and detergent, humming to block out the noises still happening, and then walks back to the basement, putting her clothes in the washing machine before getting her mail, taking the one letter that resides there, and propping herself up on the wall of unused machines as she reads.

Emma,

I’m going to blame the rum for this letter. I really am. It’s around two in the morning, the moon high in the sky. We’ve just spent the day together, which was bloody wonderful by the way, and I can’t seem to stop thinking of things. Even as I write, it seems rather foolish to put my thoughts onto paper, but hopefully I won’t think to mail the letter. Or maybe I should. I honestly don’t know. This is all uncharted territory for me, and I seem to be diving in headfirst even if I am wearing a life jacket.

You see, I rather fancy you, Emma (No Middle Name) Swan, and it’s been a long time since I fancied a woman for more than one night or possibly a few weeks. The last time that I did, I had my heart broken so horribly that I retired from the Navy and moved across an ocean. Quite dramatic, don’t you think? I’ve been told that I’m a dramatic ass. That may have been Liam, but it also may have been you. I can’t recall at the moment.

Her name was Milah. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, and I loved her with what felt like every beat of my heart until her heart was no longer mine to love. We met at a Naval Christmas ball. She was there with her brother, and I’ll never forget the black dress that she was wearing. We danced, and as they say, the rest is history. But as you know, I’m a bit of a history buff, so I like the details. I imagine you might too. I always knew that she wasn’t my soulmate. I didn’t have a sign, but she did, a simple tattoo on her hand. It was something we didn’t talk about in our three years together until one day we came across a man with a matching tattoo. She didn’t leave me, not at first, but as she got to know him, she fell for him. And who was I to keep two soulmates from having each other?

I think that’s what makes it worst of all. There was nothing wrong between us, but she had someone who she belonged with. It wasn’t me.

So you may think you’re the only person with an aversion to soulmates. You’re not. We all have our issues, our baggage, but I’ve found that since spilling that iced water down your dress (you should wear that dress more often by the way) the weight on my shoulders seems to have lessened. I’m…happier, I guess. I have such a wonderful life, but lately, I’ve had more reason to laugh. I think it’s because of a certain blonde with a penchant for mismatching her socks and junk food that no sane person would ever eat so regularly.

But who knows? This could all be the rum speaking.

Love,

Killian

She reads the letter three more times before she truly allows herself to let all of it sink in. It’s been three weeks since Labor Day, three weeks of the two of them going on and continuing to text and write letters – ones other than this one – and yet this one has shown up in her mailbox this morning. Either the US Postal Service really sucks or Killian didn’t send this the night he wrote it. He was likely drunk, at the very least tipsy, but he’s the most well-spoken (written) drunk man she’s ever seen.

And he bared his soul to her.

Because she makes him happy.

She does that.

Her gut feeling is to run, not really sure where she’d run to since this town and these people are her family and she’d never leave them, but she wants to run from her feelings, from the way that her insides unpleasantly twist and the way her heart squeezes. She knows that she feels the same way about Killian, that he makes her happy, but seeing it written out like that, seeing the words in Killian’s handwriting, that’s an entirely different story. And it doesn’t matter that he was drunk. Drunk words are sometimes the most truthful.

How in the world is she supposed to handle any of this?

Does she push it away? Pretend she didn’t get the letter? Does he even know that he sent it? Does he remember writing it? Should she write something back? What the hell would she write back? How would she even do that without having a little liquid courage too?

She can’t get drunk today, not with Ariel’s baby shower, but she really, really wants to.

That’s the thing too. She’s not even sure if she wants to get drunk for herself or because Killian’s letter brought back every feeling of abandonment she’s ever experienced. He was left, just like her yet again, and whether she likes it or not, they do understand each other.

(Of course she likes it, likes being understood.)

Her brain never quite turns off after that, reading the letter over and over again so many times that she might as well have it memorized, and she only knows that she moves because she changes her clothes over into the dryer, cleaning out the lint filter before twisting the knob and listening to it rattle to drown out all of her thoughts.

Goodbye shower. The laundry room is now the place to have an existential crisis.

But she does somehow manage to turn her thoughts off enough to know that she really does need to shower, so while her clothes are drying, she heads back upstairs and takes one, quickly washing her hair and her body, shaving her legs up to her knees since her dress for today only really shows half of her calves. She’s got three hours until Ariel’s baby shower, but she needs something to do, so she tugs on her dress, letting the blue and white striped print hug her body, and takes the time to apply her makeup, going through an actual routine instead of simply slapping some mascara onto her lashes.

Today really must be shaping up to be a day.

“Why are you already dressed?” Belle asks when she walks out of her bedroom, making her jump at the sight of Belle sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal in pajamas that she definitely wasn’t wearing an hour ago. “And why do you look like a deer in the headlights?”

“Oh, I, um…”

She tugs at the waist of her dress, pulling the tie a bit to tighten it as she thinks of a lie. As much as Belle knows about she and Killian, she doesn’t know the half of it. She purposely hasn’t told anyone. She can’t. If everyone thinks that she and Killian are flirting and maybe fucking, that’s fine with her. That’s nothing. But if anyone were to know that they were soulmates, it’d make everything far more complicated. There would be expectations and hopes, and if others have those, how could she not? And why can she not figure her brain out?

But Killian told her he wouldn’t tell anyone, so no one else is going to know.

“I’m doing laundry,” she finally says, knowing that the best lies are routed in truth. “I needed something to pass the time, so I went ahead and got ready. Well, with everything but the mess of my hair.”

Belle’s brows pinch together, but she doesn’t say anything else, scooping her spoon into her bowl before taking another bite. “So Will and I think we found an apartment yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, nodding her head. “It’s downtown, in that cute little complex across the street from Granny’s with the pink awning. I loved it. I mean, it’s bigger than this place, but it feels very homey. And there’s this built in bookshelf that I think I might love more than I love Will.”

“Oh good. That means I can keep the one here.” Belle rolls her eyes, and Emma walks forward to pull out her chair from the table before sitting down. “I’m so happy that you guys found a place. Like, obviously I’m going to miss you, but after the show I heard this morning, I think we might need a little space.”

Belle doesn’t even blush. All she does is reach into her bowl and pick up a dried strawberry, flicking it at her. “In all fairness, you never wake up that early on a Saturday.”

“I mean, how could I sleep through such a performance? Whatever you’re doing, you’re obviously doing very well.”

“You’re going to share all of this at the wedding, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely. And if you put a little tequila in me, I might even act out my own version of the events.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll get arrested for that.”

“I’m on good terms with cops. Where is your partner in crime, by the way?”

“I left Ariel’s present at his place, and he went ahead and went home to get it and get ready. You want to drive there together?”

“Absolutely.”

-/-

“Why do you look like you’re dying?” Ariel asks, wrapping her arm around Emma’s waist as she stands in Ariel’s kitchen looking at the spread of food out ahead of her, Max wandering around the table in an attempt to get scraps.  

“Because I am. What’s up with the creepy pigs in a blanket snacks that are made to look like babies? Am I supposed to eat those?”

“No, no.” Ariel rubs her hand up and down Emma’s back, and if she wasn’t already thinking about the fact that one of her best friends is having a baby while the other is getting married, she’d definitely be thinking of all of the motherly instincts that Ariel possesses and how she has likely never had those even if she thought that she did at one point. “That’s just a weird thing that Mary Margaret brought. I think she saw it on Pinterest and thought it would be cute, but it’s super creepy.”

“I mean, like, the creepiest. And the deviled eggs are the same way.”

“I’d stick to other foods if I were you.”

“Anything not baby related.”

“Ah, yes, but save room because I believe there’s a game later where we have to eat baby food.”

“Just kill me now.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

She rolls her eyes and leans her head over to Ariel’s shoulder, wrapping her arm around Ariel’s waist knowing that she’s taking up too much time from the guest of honor, but everyone else seems to be just fine milling around the kitchen and living room, most of Ariel’s regular furniture pushed aside to fit in table cloth covered tables with flower centerpieces sitting in the middle of all of them. It’s cute, and she has to admit that Mary Margaret definitely knows how to host a party, weird food choices aside. But it most definitely hasn’t been the worst hour of her life, especially since she knows every single person here. The only real issue was when Killian showed up because she thought that she was going to have to stop talking, which isn’t the easiest thing in the world when she’s with her friends. But he stayed away from her, making sure to speak quietly instead of being his usual commanding presence.

His words, not hers.

And mostly she was thinking about how refreshing it is to have both the father of the baby and male friends at a baby shower. She gets that the woman pretty much does all of the work (she’d like to speak to someone about that because it seems fundamentally unfair), but both Ariel and Eric are having a baby. It’s not simply Ariel’s to raise. It’s Eric’s too. And yet most fathers don’t show up to showers, don’t put in the effort, and no part of her has ever understood that. But maybe she’s simply hoping for something that’s better than most people’s reality. She doesn’t know. She never had parents, never got to see it first hand, but when she thought…no, it doesn’t matter. None of that was real, and there’s no use in thinking of it now even if thoughts of Neal have been niggling themselves into her mind since this morning.

She’s simply glad that Ariel has Eric, that they have each other and baby Fisher.

They have a family.

“I’m not eating pureed food unless it’s, like, pureed donuts or something.”

“They don’t make pure sugar for infants. That would be a fundamentally awful idea.”

“Eh, I don’t think so. The babies would probably be super happy.”

“You’re going to be the person who gives the baby sugar right before you send them back to me, aren’t you?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Alright,” Mary Margaret claps, making Emma turn her head to look in the living room, “who wants to play a game?”

The game isn’t eating pureed baby food, but somehow it is much, much worse. In reality, she knows that it’s really not that bad. It’s cute and funny, and if she wasn’t who she is, she’d be thankful that this is the game that Mary Margaret picked out because it’s damn fun.

Who’s That Baby?

She’s got a large board full of baby pictures, some of them adorable, others a little scary (not that she would ever say that out loud), and everyone is having to guess which baby is who. She hasn’t guessed a single one because, really, she’s selfish and can only think about the fact that her picture isn’t up there.

And she knows this because, well, Mary Margaret never asked her for one. While Mary Margaret can work wonders, it would be pretty much impossible for her to gather baby pictures of everyone without anyone knowing, so she must have asked everyone to send them in. But Emma was never asked, not at all. Sure, she could pass it off as an oversight, as a mistake, but she knows that none of that is true.

Mary Margaret didn’t ask for her baby picture because she knows that she doesn’t have any.

Today was not supposed to be emotional like this. Today was supposed to be…a sob suddenly catches in her throat, one she has to force to keep down, and when she feels hot tears forming in her eyes, threatening to escape, she quietly excuses herself from the room, knowing that she won’t be missed if she ducks into the bathroom for a moment. But the bathroom is locked, and since she sure as hell isn’t going to go into the nursery right now, she opens Ariel’s bedroom door and collapses against the wall, letting her legs bend until she’s sitting on hardwood and pulling her legs to her chest as she tries to breathe.

Breathing is seeming pretty difficult at the moment.

So is not crying.

Why does she want to cry?

That’s a dumb question. She knows why she wants to, why she’s about to, but it’s been almost eight years. Things like this shouldn’t hurt anymore, should they? She should be over it. She has to be over it.

She isn’t over it.

Another sob rumbles through her, this one escaping from the confines of her throat, and when she hears it, even she notices how ugly of a sob it is. It’s one of those where she can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but let her shoulders tremble and tears fall down her cheeks. The more she tells herself to calm down, the more uncontrollable she gets, the more she feels like she has no control over anything.

And then there’s a click, a turn of a knob, and she’s paralyzed in fear and embarrassment that is only exacerbated when she sees tight blue jeans over muscled legs and a simple white button down with small light blue stripes that she knows belongs to Killian.

Words don’t come out of her mouth even though she’s got an excuse on her tongue, a pathetic one about being allergic to the weird baby themed foods, and while she expects him to be snarky, he’s not. It’s so much worse because after she takes one look at the raised brow on his forehead, he slides down on the wall next to her, their thighs hitting each other as his arm wraps around her shoulder so tentatively that she nearly grabs onto it and pulls it over her shoulder herself.

She definitely has gone crazy.

But when she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away from his embrace, he moves closer to her, his embrace a little tighter, and she can feel the heat of his body all over her as his hand rubs up and down her shoulder while she buries her face in his shirt near the slight exposure of his collarbone and the chain that resides there. He smells like the spice of his cologne, something warm and comforting, and even though it’s ridiculous, that’s what calms her, what makes her stop crying, just the smallest of whimpers and hiccups occasionally escaping her lips.

It should hit her that she’s having a meltdown in her best friend’s bedroom at said best friend’s baby shower in front of the man who she has…something with. But honestly, she feels puffy and exhausted, and she’s more concerned with the fact that her mascara is going to ruin Killian’s shirt and the way that his hand seems to be large enough to cover every inch of her as he comforts her.

And she focuses on the fact that he’s silent.

Well, he was.

“You know, darling, I think that you should cry in here a little longer so that Ariel and Eric can get some practice with someone crying in their bedroom at weird times.”

She huffs into his chest, rubbing her nose into his collarbone as his scent consumes her. “That’s bold of you to assume that there’s not already someone crying in here on a regular basis.”

There’s a thud against the wall as Killian’s head falls back with laughter, his chuckles deep but light, and she hiccups again in response, not really able to do much else.

“Now, Swan, I don’t think their sex life is that bad. They are having a baby.”

“Believe it or not, an orgasm is not required for conception.”

“No, it’s not.” He rubs his hand up and down her arm again, squeezing her bicep before continuing and moving along her back so that his nails trace patterns into her skin. She must be really upset and out of touch with herself right now because they’re talking, and she feels no shivers running down her spine or heat curling between her thighs. Maybe all it takes is for her to be having a meltdown. That makes it even worse. It’s probably just that they haven’t talked enough. “Would you like to talk about what’s got you hiding away in here, or do you want to talk about our friends’ sex life for a little longer?”

“Can I have the option of neither?”

“No.”

“That’s unfair.”

“So is life.”

Emma rolls her eyes knowing that Killian can’t see it, and maybe that is the reason why she rubs her eyes into his shirt some more. “Aren’t you going to get a boner if I talk too much?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Ridiculous man.

(Sweet man.)

“I got your letter about Milah this morning.” Killian’s hand stills and his tongue clicks, but she keeps going, knowing that if she’s going to talk, it’s got to be while she can’t control her body and emotions and her tongue basically has free range. “I don’t know if you knew that you sent that, if you did it on purpose or got drunk again, if the mail was just late. I don’t know, but I read it while washing clothes and I hated it. I hated that you were screwed over, that you were screwed over by the whole soulmate thing. I mean, you were in love, and it ended because of what? Because she had a tattoo that matched another man? That’s such bullshit.”

“It’s okay, love.”

“It’s not. Nothing about any of this is okay. But, like, that’s not even why I’m having a meltdown. I mean, you definitely put me in a confused mood because you talked about your heartbreak and how I’m helping with that, and I – I can’t deal with any of that right now when all I can think about today is the fact that there are all of those baby pictures up on that board and not one of them is of me. Mary Margaret didn’t even ask because she knows that I don’t have one, that no one cared enough about me to take a picture and give it to me. And obviously I’m spiraling because then I get upset about a baby that never even existed. I’m not even one of those people who desperately wants a baby or something.”

“What are you talking about, Swan? What baby?”

The only reason she has the bravery to say this is because she’s not being forced to look at Killian, to look at the blue of his eyes, and if she can’t see his eyes, none of this is real, right? It’s like the texts. They’re separated enough that it’s not all overwhelming for her.

“When I was seventeen, I met a guy, Neal. You’ve probably heard of him from our friends. They’ve never met him, but I guess…he’s kind of a legend in the group. Anyways, we dated for three years, and when I was twenty, my period was late. So obviously I’m freaking out, probably having a panic attack, but then I take a test that says I’m pregnant. And weirdly, I feel calm. I feel calm because, you know, I’m going to have a family, have something I’ve never had.”

“Swan – ”

“I wasn’t pregnant,” she interrupts, not wanting him to stop her and ask any more questions. “It was a false positive, a cheap test. But I didn’t know that until after I told Neal, and he basically told me that I should have kept my legs shut before packing his bags and leaving to go live with his father in fucking Tallahassee. So I was left alone with no boyfriend, no kid, and a hell of a lot of bitter thoughts because I thought the man was my soulmate and I’d never have to feel alone again. I thought I was done being abandoned. The joke was on me.”

She’s not crying anymore, not even sniffling, but she feels cold and stiff and like she can’t really breathe through her nose. Here she is baring her soul to this man who has all of the power to break her, and yet she still told him, still let the words pass her lips are they were spoken into his skin. But he did tell her about himself too, tell him how he was broken too, and maybe that comforts her.

Maybe it also comforts her that she knows Killian’s got to be pitching a tent right about now. She’s been talking for ten minutes at the very least with her long pauses and ramblings, and there’s no way that he isn’t struggling. And yet he’s sat in almost silence listening to her and comforting her all the while he wants to fuck her.

What the hell even is their lives?

And that’s why she starts laughing, a chuckle bubbling up through her throat while her shoulders shake, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile, and she moves her head up to look at Killian even though she knows that she probably looks like a raccoon would after a night out at the bar.

That thought is unsurprisingly not the weirdest thought she’s ever had, not even the weirdest this week.

“There’s that smile,” Killian encourages, nodding his head and thumb at her chin while his own smile appears on his face, making eyes crinkle. She likes that a lot. It makes her stomach twist in unfamiliar and yet not entirely unpleasant ways. He complains about them only being there because he’s older than her, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest. “The sun would rise early to see your smile.”

“But then I would literally get less sleep or have to spend money on blackout curtains.”

“I’ll buy them for you.”

She chuckles again and shakes her head even as Killian’s thumb moves from her chin to beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears that remain and probably still continue to flow. She feels like jelly or a blob or something else shapeless, something else that can’t be contained. They haven’t been this close since…she wants to say since she kissed Killian on the fourth of July, but it’s most likely as close as they were on Labor Day.

Summer holidays seem to be a pattern for them.

But it’s nearing autumn now, and her breath hitches as she looks at the scar on his cheek, the freckles near his nose, the long, dark lashes contrasting against blue eyes. He’s such an attractive man, almost so much that it would take her breath away if it wasn’t already gone. She’s not going to kiss him now. She knows that he’s not going to kiss her. But their breaths are intermingling, and she can still feel the warm presence of his hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry that you were hurt like that,” he whispers, her gaze flicking up from his lips to his eyes. “I’m sorry that you were hurt by Neal and Walsh and your parents and every other person who doesn’t deserve you and your funny sense of humor and kind heart.”

“It’s fine. It was all a long time ago.”

“Wounds made when we’re young tend to linger, and it very obviously isn’t fine. You’re having a bit of a time hidden away in our friends’ bedroom, and that’s okay. You’re allowed to be hurt. I wrote you a drunk letter about my ex because I was hurt. I still get angry over my dad leaving and my mom dying. The universe has fucked me over in a lot of ways, but I think it did something right in letting me meet you.”

Oh well damn. That’s just not fair.

“No one should be as good with words as you are. Like, even your drunk letters were basically professional novels.”

He shrugs at the same time that he reaches forward to tuck her hair behind her ear, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down her spine. “I was a wonderful English and literature student if I do say so myself. And for someone who reads as many books as you do, I’m surprised you’re not always speaking in limericks.”

“Yeah, well, besides the occasional historical romance, I read a lot of books about murder and mystery. They’re not exactly teaching me to speak like Shakespeare.”

“All I got out of that was that you know how to murder me and get away with it.”

Emma chuckles, shaking her head as she gently pats his chest, their faces still impossibly close. “I’ve told you before, I’m not someone you really want to mess with.”

His brows raise in the way that they always do, the lines on his forehead appearing. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve told you how I quite fancy with you even when you’re yelling at me, haven’t I?”

“You fancy my ass,” she deflects.

“I am a fan of every part of you,” Killian sighs, rubbing his hand over her back in the way that he does where his hand nearly covers all of her, his forearm pulling her closer. “If that includes your ass, so be it. Though, I always considered myself a breast man. You seem to have converted me to both.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or completely and totally disgusted.”

“You can compliment my ass if it makes you feel better.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulls back from him, putting more space between as she moves back to sit a little closer to the bed, her limbs still a little shaky. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Damn, I really could have used the ego boost.” Killian stands from the ground, and she’s not at all distracted by the way his thigh muscles look under his jeans. But maybe she kind of is as she doesn’t notice the way he holds his left hand out, the one covered in scars from the accident, until he’s looking down at her expectantly. She takes his hand, the warmth and roughness overwhelming her, and he helps her stand so that her legs are a little more stable. “Do you think you’re ready to go back to the party? I’m sure they’ve moved onto A opening up breast pumps and someone doing something entirely inappropriate with them. How could we miss that?”

“I mean, the only thing that could top that would be if there were more weird, baby-shaped food.”

“Isn’t that bloody disturbed?” Killian laughs, his face lighting up with joy in that way that makes her stomach twist yet again. Her intestines must really hate her. “I mean, why would I eat that?”

“Because it tastes good.”

“You should not say things like that. I can’t look at you the same way hearing those words come out of your mouth.”

“Hey now.” She holds her hands up before reaching back and tucking the hair that keeps falling in her face behind her ears. “At least there’s not one of those cakes with the baby’s head coming out of a frosting vagina.”

“Swan,” he groans, leaning forward and resting his head against her shoulder while his own shoulders heave with muted laughter, “please don’t talk about that. I’m rather fond of that particular area, and I’d rather not imagine things coming out of it.”

“That sounds kind of painful for all of your sexual partners if you can’t pull out.”

“Well, the baby does have to be made somehow.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.”

“You can’t say that about everything that I say.”

“I can if you keep getting that ridiculous.”

Killian laughs once more before leaning back off of her and wrapping an arm around Emma’s shoulder, the weight heavy and comfortable while he opens the bedroom door with his free hand. “Come on, love. Let’s go see if there’s a cake depicting Ariel giving birth. If not, I hear Mr. French takes requests.”

Ridiculous.

Such a ridiculous man who is making her laugh and feel comfortable with his arm around her shoulder after she just spilled her guts to him about some of the darkest parts of her life. She should feel uncomfortable, awkward, ready to run. She’s been waiting for all of those things since she read his letter. They’re not coming. They could later, but for now, all she can do is laugh at Killian telling her about Liam nearly passed out when Elsa gave birth.

In all of this, all that has happened, all that she has revealed, only one cohesive thought truly remains.

She and Killian are inevitable, always have been, always will be, and she’s fallen into the trap of liking him much more than she ever intended to.

Maybe even loving him.

That’s the craziest thought of them all.

But she has to wonder about the fact that she didn’t feel aroused once in that conversation when she always thought that was the thread that was holding the two of them together.