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bluepenguinstories · 2 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter LXXIII: Barkdust

I seldom worried about how I acted or what made up who I was. It was fun to think about it. Interesting, even. That is, if I ever wished to think about it. But I never did.

It didn’t worry me whether I was too kind or not kind enough, or whether I was my “best self” (whatever that could ever look like). No, as long as I acted in a manner which felt right to me, I had no need to think or worry about such things.

That said, I did worry about others. More specifically, my wife, Vesuvius (more commonly known as Ves, or sometimes referred to as ‘hothead’), and our newest guest, Rachel.

Who was Rachel?

Someone who shivered often, complained of being cold, had a mysterious past, and a soft voice. She was tall, muscular, short haired, and lazy. She alternated between nervous fidgeting and a stone-faced seriousness. Sometimes, she would sneer with her soft voice, and a snide tone would take over. Other times, when she was serious, her voice would lower and become deeper and richer.

There were many quirks and oddities to dissect, but none of those really mattered. When you were reading that description, you may have thought something like: “gee, doesn’t that all sound familiar? Almost as if…”

Yes. You would be correct. Or rather, I would be correct. Or Ves would be correct, if she were to connect the dots.

Sorry. I shouldn’t even blame her so much. I know why she’s been treating things as normal. I should too, right? Rachel was Rachel, after all. It didn’t matter what other names she may have had in the past. If they both wished to move on, I should respect that…

...is what I would say if “Rachel” wasn’t dropping hints left and right for Ves to pick up like it was some identity-based scavenger hunt.

That she was being so coy led me to believe, too, that it was indeed her and not Remora, nor some other perfectly coincidental stranger. Of course, by ‘her’, I meant...well, you know. I shouldn’t have to say it.

“Hey Rachel,” I greeted while she was out in the humid heat of late spring weather, with the perfect cloudy day and almost scorching levels of heat. She had been trimming some of the branches of shrubbery around the garden (Ves put her up to the task, and she must have decided she had nothing better to do, because she agreed to it). She wore no gloves, and didn’t seem to mind such things as blisters, bruises, or the like. As I approached her, she shivered and her motions with the trimmer was unsteady at best.

“Brr…” She muttered, before turning around to greet me, “hey...uh...Juniper. Have you come to share some of your body heat with me?”

“Do you really think I would do that?” I shook my head.

“No,” she hung her head low and her movements turned more steady, as she concentrated on trimming, “I know you’re faithful to your wife. I shouldn’t joke like that. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it,” I crossed my arms, “as it so happens, I am quite warm already, and if I were to press myself against you, I might overheat.”

“Ah, that’s true. You are hot. That is a fact. But I’m cold, so maybe if we…”

“Have you noticed that you’re sweating?” I pointed out. She wore a thick, red puffy jacket and a brown stocking cap. From under the cap, sweat ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t wipe it off or anything, and just let it drip off her chin as she worked.

“Ah. This must be thermal equilibrium, don’t you think? I have heard that sweat is the body’s way of cooling itself. Thermal equilibrium. That is also why I offered for you to press yourself against me, as it would benefit both of us. I would warm up, and you would cool. Of course, I may have ulterior motives, as one with such a request tends to have. That said, I wonder, then, why one’s body may also break out into cold sweats. Do you know?”

“I don’t. My brother’s a doctor, though. He might know.”

“Right. You have a brother. You may have mentioned that before.”

“I haven’t,” I almost felt like smirking, as those two words should have been enough to catch her in a trap.

“You haven’t? That’s fine as well. Maybe you just strike me as the type to have a brother. Does that make sense?”

I was dumbfounded. That weasel. That arctic weasel. That East Siberian Stoat (the only arctic weasel I was familiar with).

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t,” I replied in the most exhausted tone I could muster. “Do you need a towel or something? How about some water? I don’t want you to dehydrate or pass out in the sun. Neither of those sound pleasant.”

“Is that a risk?” She asked.

“One cannot be too cautious out in nature.”

Rachel bent down set down the trimmer on the soft soil beside the shrub. As she stood back up, she let out a soft sigh.

“I get it,” her voice darkened. In a strange sense, it was the tone of voice of hers that I loved the most. It wasn’t that I thought her serious tone was more ‘true’ than her nervous or joking tone, but rather that when she switched to that tone, it seemed like she was in control of whatever situation she happened to be in.

“You’re thinking how it’s all in my head, aren’t you?” She continued.

I shook my head.

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking that. It’s a sunny day. I’m sweating. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together, and while it’s true that a day can be sunny without necessitating warmth, I’m inclined to believe you when you say you’re quite warm already. You are Juniper, after all, someone who has no reason to lie.”

She faced me with stiff expression; creased brow, straight lips, and an intense glare. I no longer noticed her shivering, but if I had a better grasp of myself, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that I was the one shivering. At that moment, too, even if I was shivering (quivering or quaking, more like), I felt a certain warmth spread through my legs, and it became clear that I was facing the other way Rachel could be ‘cold’: her demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed out.

“Why? You were trying to help. You have done nothing wrong. I am aware that my condition is most likely psychological. Either through anxiety or some other reason I cannot fathom. In fact, I cannot fathom why I would have any psychological conditions, either, but here we are. That said, I cannot simply ‘turn off’ this condition, and it still feels just as real to me as you the warm temperature must feel to you.”

“O-Of course.”

“But since you offered, yes, I would like some water. With ice, please. I find water with ice tends to warm me up, even just a little. A towel, too, would be nice. Since you offered. Please.”

“Right away, ma’am!” I blurted before running off, my heart racing alongside me.

Once back inside, I ran over to the sink and splashed water over my face.

Why am I letting her get to me? I thought, I’m the one who should be in control. I tamed Ves, after all, so there’s no reason why I can’t tame Rachel, too.

Maybe ‘tame’ was the wrong word, but I ask: did it really matter what the right word was?

When it comes to the woman Ves claimed to have moved on from, my own thoughts on her are rather threadbare. What I mean is, we met during the incident three years ago, and the sum total of my interactions with her probably amounted to 15 minutes at most. Compare that with the two or three days Ves knew her for and it’s really no wonder why Ves feels a closer connection with her while for me it was just a matter of ‘oh yeah, the weird stalker lady. I remember her.’

Pair that with the fact that Ves never had difficulty forming connections or bonds with others. She’d disagree, of course, and even say something like, “but Juniper’s much nicer, who wouldn’t like Juniper at first sight?’

I wouldn’t disagree that my wife could be a real asshole sometimes, but she also had a habit of underselling her own kindness. And sure, she had poor posture, often gazed down with a sullen expression, and tends to be cautious and avoid eye contact around new people. Just a few of the hallmarks that would make forming connections difficult.

Yet I bet if she were to walk into a public library, she’d walk out with five new friends made. Meanwhile, I just go into a library, check out a how-to manual, and walk out with knowledge in my hand. Sure, I can be friendly with anyone who talks to me first but I don’t think I have this aura about me that makes people want to come up to me. I don’t just get strangers going “hey Juniper, can I have your autograph?” Well, truth be told, that’s never happened with Ves, either. Oh, jeez. What was I going on about again?

Ah. Right. The ghost. The thing that won’t leave. Capital ‘R’.

My assessment of you-know-who was that she was troubled and lonely. I get that it was never in the cards for us to be friends, given what role she played in our lives, even though I would have accepted her were it an option. I’m sure that’s what Ves would rather have happened as well.

Still, that final scene, on that rooftop…

To say she didn’t leave an impression on me would have been a lie. But given the lack of screen time between us compared to the screen time that Ves and her shared coupled with the fact that I was dealing with a minor case of possession, meant that it was never going to be a strong impression. My memories of the time are intact, but just a little hazy when it comes to the details.

I just remember Ves going off to fight her on a rooftop. I was concerned, so ran into the skyscraper they were fighting atop and raced up the stairs. I remember shoving past office workers and security guards alike.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” One demanded.

I can’t recall what I said, but I remember it not being a hassle to get past them.

Even still, there were several flights, and I wasn’t exactly ‘in shape,’ so it comes at no surprise that it took me several minutes to get up there, and by the time I did, the fight was already finished.

Ves was upset, in a panic and trying to keep our tormentor alive. But for me, seeing the face of the one lying down and bleeding out, all I thought was:

She looks satisfied. She must be at peace.

I truly must have thought that her dying was what she wanted. If I was a little more rational (or maybe less rational, and a little more human) I would have tried to keep her alive as well. But given my condition at the time, I didn’t see it right to interfere.

No, there was more to that as well.

It wasn’t just “she seems happy. Let’s let her rest in peace.”

Perhaps in a cruel sense, I felt relief.

Relief for Ves and I. The kind of relief where you just finished a making a toy robot and it didn’t fall apart as soon as you picked it up. Or the kind of relief where you just got done with a chore that you’ve been putting off and now you can use that chore as an excuse to relax for the rest of the day.

Yes. Just like that.

The ordeal was behind us. Our lives could go back to normal. Maybe it would take time for us to heal, but at least we would no longer have to worry about being pursued any longer.

Ah, if only things worked that way.

With the faucet still on, I got the red hand towel wet, then grabbed a glass from the nearest cupboard, tossed in some ice from the freezer, and filled the glass with water. Now all I had to do was deliver the goods.

As I turned to walk out of the kitchen, I heard the front door swing open and slam into the wall. I ran out and saw Rachel standing in the doorway.

“Your...your towel!” I blurted out and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand.

She wrapped it around the back of her neck, then grinned.

“Thanks! I figured I did about all I could with those shrubs, so now I’m back inside,” she explained, and without hesitation, snatched the glass of water out of my hand and chugged it down. It only took a few gulps for that thing to go empty and the ice to jingle around. As if triumphant in her drink, she let out a mighty belch.

“Right. Excuse you, then,” I muttered.

“Sorry. I’ve never been very good with manners. On that note, may I please get a refill? For some reason, I get thirsty standing next to you.”

“Then maybe you should take a step back?” I suggested.

“I don’t think that will help much. See, I also get thirsty thinking about you.”

“Think about other things.”

“Oh, believe me, I try. Somehow my thoughts always return to you.”

“Just like you returned,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, ha ha!” I scratched my pigtails and laughed.

Rachel shrugged and walked past me. I turned and watched as she poured herself another glass of water and chugged it down again.

At least she was acclimating well. That was important, right?

Ves walked out from the bedroom and yawned. She just woke up from an afternoon nap, that scamp. I knew the routine: whenever Ves woke up from an afternoon nap, the first thing she did was go into the kitchen and grab a pear. Since we didn’t have a pear tree, it was up to me to buy pears from the grocery store and keep us well stocked.

As she approached the kitchen, Ves caught sight of Rachel and I caught sight of both of them staring into each other’s eyes. It was quite creepy, especially as Rachel broke the gaze to stare into my eyes. Like, pick someone’s attention to focus on and stick with them!

“Hey Rachel. I’ve been giving it some thought, and while I’m still going to get high sometimes just for the hell of it, would you be okay if I confided in you from time to time?” Ves asked.

“Sure. As long as you don’t expect me to listen,” Rachel shrugged.

My jaw ought to have dropped, but it didn’t. I held it in place. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold it together for long, and soon it came tumbling down, along with a flood of shock:

“What?! But you usually confide stuff with me!”

Ves and Rachel both turned and stared in my directions. My fists were balled up and my face turned into a ripe tomato. Sure, it may have been out of character for me, but I’d argue Ves hasn’t been in character since Rachel showed up.

“Hun, I’ll still come to you. It just helps having another person to talk to sometimes. Especially as I’m no longer seeing a therapist and I don’t have any other friends.”

“Haa…” I sighed and wiped away a tear from my eye, “sorry. I guess I just got worked up.”

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. It’s just that...I don’t know…” It wasn’t like me not to say how I was feeling. Doubly so that I was jealous. I couldn’t believe it. I was acting like a baby. Me. When usually I was so composed and friendly, and instead I was reduced to…

A warm sensation reached my cheek. I glanced over and saw Ves’s palm on my cheek. She used her index finger to stroke along near my ear.

I closed my eyes and purred while smiling.

It was like our personalities had swapped, and I was panicking over the littlest of things and getting jealous and losing my cool. But if our personalities had swapped, that just meant she was there to ease me back into a peaceful state.

“This is a big adjustment for me too. I know we can get through this. We’re both strong, aren’t we?” Ves asked in a soothing voice.

I nodded and felt weak. She really didn’t have to do much to please me.

“Right. This is awkward. You two are having a moment. I’m going to my room,” Rachel announced and the shock made the two of us break away and take a step back.

We watched Rachel walk into the guest room, something she hadn’t done since arriving here. Well, at least we had some semblance of privacy again.

“Hehe, sorry. Guess I’ve been stressing more than I thought I would. It’s not like we haven’t had guests, even surprise guests before.”

“It’s okay,” Ves reassured me, “this guest seems different somehow, wouldn’t you say? I suppose we’ve both not been ourselves.”

“Yeah…”

“If you ever get too stressed, feel free to take a rip from my bong,” she offered, but I scoffed at such an idea.

“Sorry, I know you enjoy it, and it makes you happy, but I just can’t stand the smell or the taste. Plus I’m not a fan of coughing. I don’t think any of the loopy effects are enough to justify the parts that peeve me,” I explained. “I’ll probably just tinker around in my workshop tonight to relieve stress.”

“Masturbation’s always an option as well,” Ves suggested.

“I much prefer when you get me off. Besides, for me, building things is a form of masturbation.”

We both laughed.

“I guess I can see that. Just like how I feel ecstatic whenever I visit the greenhouse,” Ves added.

As it turns out, I had other plans that night. Plans that didn’t involve tinkering or masturbation of any kind.

No, my plan for the night was a form of sleuthing: detective Juniper, on the case. This time, I was determined to catch Rachel and get her to slip up. No more of this dancing around the issue. I’d have her wrapped around my finger by the time the night was over.

After we made love and Ves passed out, I sat up and read from the current book I was on, ‘Hotwiring Cars For Dummies’. It was quite informative, and once I was done reading it, all that was left to do was apply what I learned in real life. Maybe next time I went to the grocery store…

I took off Ves’s reading glasses and set them on the nightstand. They always made my head hurt when I wore them, but I found it easier to read with them on, so there was that trade-off. After squinting and shaking my head, I slipped on a tie-dye t-shirt from the dresser and slipped on some slippers. I wasn’t actually planning on going outside, but I had to look the part.

(If I was planning on going outside, I would have slipped on a sweater. It gets pretty chilly at night)

As soon as I opened the door, I saw Rachel sat up on the couch, wrapped in several blankets.

“Juniper!” Rachel turned and called out with a grin. Her face lit up so bright I was surprised that alone wasn’t enough to warm her up.

“So excited you can’t sleep, huh?” I asked.

“I hardly ever sleep. I’m just happy to see you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because...you’re Juniper.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I swear, I don’t understand you…”

“I don’t understand, myself,” Rachel looked down and admitted. “I went from being someone who thought she didn’t need anyone around to someone happy to be in the company of you and Ves. It’s like I’m not my old self when I’m around you two, but I also don’t mind this.”

Maybe I’ve been too hard on her, was my initial thought. But then when I remembered just who was saying all that, my thoughts changed to, of course she would say something like that.

“Well, I think it’s important to have human connection. I’m glad we’ve had such an impact on you.”

She raised her head back up. She didn’t so much have a grin, but rather a gentle, almost warm smile.

I think I get what Ves sees in her. No matter how troublesome she is, she’s quite charming as well. Oh, god damn it.

Then, as if hearing my thoughts and wishing to raise the stakes, she sat straight up and the blankets covering her slid off to reveal her topless and covered in scars.

There was no getting around it: she was beautiful. All her scars formed a pretty pattern, and no matter where she got each one, they only served to make her more attractive. I especially like how three of her scars sort of formed what looked like a slanted smiley face. Those were the scars just under her right breast, for the record. Then there were the scars on the left side, near her back, which kind of formed the shape of a giraffe.

To say nothing of her muscles and how cute her small breasts were, aah...I was getting distracted. Ves and I walked around the house topless plenty of times. On certain occasions, we’d even walk around naked. This should have been no big deal.

“Well, when in Rome…” I laughed and slid my shirt off as well.

“I don’t get it. We’re not in Rome.”

“Ves is part Italian, but that’s irrelevant.”

“Then why mention Rome?”

I chuckled.

“You know, you’re a strange one. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s what I like about you,” I wondered if it was just the late night euphoria talking or if I was genuinely happy to be around her.

“You like me?” Rachel asked and I thought I caught a faint hint of a blush.

What did I come out here for again? I asked myself. The atmosphere was intoxicating.

“Of course. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“You really are the real Juniper, aren’t you?” She asked.

I didn’t understand what she meant, but that was just enough to break the spell and refocus my energy on the mission at hand.

“Just as you’re the real you, aren’t you?” I smirked.

“Well, of course…”

“Hey, Rachel. What do you know about assassins?” I asked in a sly voice. But if anything, I imagined myself in an interrogation room with Rachel seated in a chair in the corner and bound with rope.

What kind of fantasies am I having? Sheesh.

"Not much. Historically, I believe the name originates from the Nizari Isma'ili State founded by Hassan-i Sabbah. The people of that state were known as 'hashashin' later referred to as 'assassin'. They were a religious nation formed when Hassan, appalled by the religious oppression at Alamut fortress, devised a plan to seize Alamut from its lord. He and his followers did this by disguising themselves as teachers in the fortress and gaining support from the guards within. By the time all support was in Hassan's favor, they spared the lord of the fortress's life under condition that the lord stepped down. This covert capture was done without the need for violence or loss of life, and more fortress captures were done using the same strategy. Later on, the assassins would take the lives of political opponents and they were even feared by the crusaders. This form of political murder was dubbed 'assassination'. Nowadays, the targeted killing of anyone often gets called an assassination. As for hired killers, which often gets conflated with assassin, that's usually only something you see in mafia fiction, as actual hitmen are more of a hoax than anything else. Needless to say, I don't think any actual assassins exist nowadays."

“That’s...a lot,” I remarked. I was surprised she managed to say all that in one breath, let alone the fact that she didn’t shiver once while speaking.

“Well, you asked what I knew. I answered.”

“That I did.”

Some of what she said actually sounded interesting. I should try to remember this little history lesson. Never mind that. She still hasn’t fessed up.

“You know, the reason I asked if you met Remora before was because I met her once too. Do you know what she told me?”

“Not a clue.”

“She told me she was an assassin.”

I bluffed. She never told me that. But there was no way Rachel could know that.

Rachel blinked once. So it wasn’t like I could say she didn’t bat an eyelash, but still, her lack of shock was astounding.

“Of course. Sounds like something an idiot would say.”

“What?”

“No actual assassin would admit to being one, would they? Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose? Whatever. It’s all fiction, anyway.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” I wasn’t ready to give up.

“Why? Are you one?” She asked.

I leaned back. She almost had me on the ropes, but I decided to play along.

“Maybe I am,” I smirked.

“I guess I have no choice. Do what you want with me. I accept my fate.”

I blinked. Not once, not twice, not even three times. It was more like 30 blinks in rapid succession.

“I’m...sorry. I lied to you. I’m not an assassin,” she really left me stifled.

“I forgive you. A lie like that is harmless. Unlike being an actual assassin, which probably isn’t harmless. Is that why you can’t get to sleep? Because you’re having scary thoughts like that?” She asked.

“I just might. Maybe if I slept beside you tonight, I won’t have such thoughts.”

“You mean…? But what would Ves think if she saw us?” Rachel gasped.

“I doubt she’d mind. It’s just sleeping. But you’re right that she’d get lonely. Maybe you should come into bed with Ves and I?”

Rachel’s eyes shifted around. She must have been evaluating her options.

“I...guess...if you don’t mind my shivering.”

“It’s cold at night, anyway. Remember what you said earlier about sharing body heat?”

“But the couch is pretty small. Are you sure we can both fit?”

“We’ll make it work.”

I stepped over behind where she sat and curled against the cushion. I pulled Rachel down and spread the blankets over us.

It felt hasty. On impulse. Really, my reasons for doing so were flimsy at best. What did I have to gain other than wrapping my arms around her wide torso and pressing myself against her back?

Needless to say, that’s exactly what I did.

Also needless to say, she shivered.

“Um. Are you sure you’re comfortable?” She asked.

“Mm...yeah. You’re quite warm,” I admitted. It was true. No matter how much she didn’t think so, feeling her up close was like hugging the bottom of a laptop while a game was running, if that bottom of a laptop was soft and fleshy and breathed brisk breaths close to my ear.

I wasn’t making it sound sexy, was I?

I was expecting her to refute the ‘warm’ statement, but she didn’t.

“I can feel your b...breasts on my back,” she muttered.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

She didn’t answer after that, and I felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me.

I really don’t know how I’ll explain this to Ves. I went from being jealous of Rachel to sleeping next to her. Some hypocrite of a wife I turned out to be.

In the morning, my head felt heavy and full of hot air. When I pulled myself up, I stared with dull eyes.

The TV, which never seemed to get turned on, stared back at me. What didn’t stare back at me was Rachel, who wasn’t anywhere I could see her.

I, however, was still covered in the mass of several blankets.

“Oh, good morning, hun,” Ves’s tired, half-yawn voice, with just a sprinkle of softness mixed in greeted me. I turned and saw her in the dining room, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“Ugh…” I groaned and rubbed my head, “good morning.”

“Rough night?” She asked.

“Something like that.”

“Rachel told me you came out last night and wanted to try sleeping on the couch, so she went to sleep in the guest room and give you some space,” Ves explained.

That was a total lie, but...I guess she was trying to cover for me?

“Where is she?” I asked.

“In the kitchen,” Rachel’s voice answered with her mouth full of...something. Rachel walked out and had a loaf of garlic bread in her hand and a big chunk bitten out of it.

“Isn’t that the garlic bread I made for all of us to share?” I asked.

“Well, I haven’t eaten all of it yet,” Rachel set the loaf down.

I grumbled and stumbled my way off the couch and over to the dining room table where garlic bread awaited.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Ves offered.

“Black, please.”

I wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but that morning in particular, I needed the caffeine.

Ves went up to pour me a cup, and while she went at that, I broke off a piece of the garlic bread.

“No more for you. That’s plenty, missy,” I scolded Rachel. She whimpered, but I ignored her.

After she poured me a cup and sat back down, Rachel sat down as well. She had a sullen look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She looked in my direction and gave a slight smile.

“I’m just trying to figure out how this day will go,” she said, “I still can’t believe I get to live here.”

The emphasis on “live” sent a chill down my spine.

Ves took a sip of her tea. I could smell the flowery aroma from where I sat as the steam wafted through the air. If I had to take a guess, it was probably jasmine tea.

“Say, Vesuvius, do you ever get the feeling that we met before? Perhaps in a past life? It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling of familiarity between us,” Rachel rasped with that wicked smile. That was when I noticed that she didn’t have any tea next to her. Actually, that wasn’t so unusual.

“Yeah, actually,” Ves set down her cup and smiled while turning her attention to the floor. It wasn’t such a pleasant smile, or at least I didn’t think so. “You remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” Rachel leaned in.

“She was someone I didn’t know for very long, but I felt immense guilt over what happened to her.”

“Wow. That heavy?”

Is Ves going to do it? Will she finally say the name of the person who impacted both of our lives three years ago?

“Yeah,” Ves continued, “her name was Gardenia. She was an older woman, and she lived isolated surrounded by a field of poisonous plants. I was a runaway when she took me in, and she taught me all about various flora. But, the ones who hunted me down found where I was staying and while I managed to get away, they shot her down. Even now I can’t help but blame myself for her death.”

Wait. Gardenia? Who?

“Her death wasn’t your fault!” Rachel’s words shook as she shouted out and pounded her fist upon the table. The table shook as well, but that was less important, as the table was poorly assembled to begin with.

“I know, it’s just…”

“No one’s death is your fault! Not hers, not mine, not anyone’s!” She just about spat out.

“Yours?” Ves looked up, confused.

“Never mind that,” Rachel waved her hand away. “The point is, these people you met died. That’s their business. It shouldn’t be your problem. You’re not the one who killed them.”

“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I think I have killed someone before…”

“So what? Who hasn’t killed someone once or twice?”

I raised my hand.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” I chimed in.

“And that’s why we love you,” Rachel relaxed her brow and nodded to me before returning to a scowl in Ves’s direction. “My life is my own. If I die, that’s on me. If others die, that’s on them. I wouldn’t ask you to carry that burden.”

Ves looked like she was about to burst into tears. I couldn’t blame her. If I went through the things she had and got told off by a familiar stranger, I’d probably be wailing already.

“It’s me, Ves. I’m here,” Rachel laid her arms on the table and lowered her voice to an icy chill as she smiled slightly.

“But who are you?” Vesuvius asked, and tears began to stream from her eyes.

I got up and dabbed her eyes with a cloth.

“That’s for you to figure out. I think I’ve said enough. All this talk about death is making me want to feed chickens,” Rachel announced and walked out the door.

I had many things I wanted to say. Like how bold that was. How close she was to almost spilling the truth. But tending to Vesuvius was a little more important at the moment.

“Deep breaths,” I whispered.

She took a couple of deep breaths while I wiped away the tears.

She grabbed my arm with her own and pulled me closer to her. Taking the cue, I held onto her tight.

“Why am I so confused?” She pouted.

“Because she’s a confusing woman,” I said.

“I just don’t want to fail with her.”

What if your suspicion ended up being correct? I wanted to ask her, but didn’t.

“Failure happens. I know you’re doing your best,” is what I ended up saying instead.

She rested her head against my chest and I stroked her hair. We must have basked in that moment for at least ten minutes before breaking away.

I would have let it last longer, but I had to confront the one guilty of bringing my wife to tears. The one who was most likely still in the barn.

I slipped my t-shirt back on which had been conveniently laying on the floor and rushed out into the barn.

What’s the big idea? Out of all the ways she could have come forward with the truth, she chose...no, never mind that. What about the fact that the truth still wasn’t out in the open? How long was this going to keep going on for where we all tiptoe between attraction and mourning? It’s getting out of hand.

I stomped my feet as I stormed into the barn. She was still standing there, hunched over.

“Okay. I’ll ask again: what do you want with us?” I demanded.

Rachel stood straight up and turned toward me. Her face carried an icy stare.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice darkened like that of a howling snowstorm.

“That thing with Gardenia. She never told me that before, but she trusts you, a stranger. I don’t usually get jealous, but maybe it’s because she’s never taken interest in anyone else, besides one person in particular. And you know what? I was fine with her obsessing over that person, because I know how bad losing that person affected her. But that person wasn’t Gardenia.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit. Ves loves you. I didn’t come with the intention of separating the two of you.”

“I know she loves me. But I think she has a crush on you, too.”

Rachel sighed.

“This is terrible…” She bemoaned. “I’ve been wanting to get your attention this whole time but instead I’ve only gotten her more into me while I’ve made you mad at me.”

“That’s not true. I quite liked last night. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

I shook my head. Yes, it was a lovely time, even if she didn’t seem all that comfortable. But that wasn’t what I wanted to say.

“...You never answered the question: what do you want with us?”

Her mouth opened, as if to gasp, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth, and when she opened again, she said:

“I know I have no right to be in your presence. I never wished to stir up any bad feelings with either of you. But even still, I wanted to see you both again.”

My eyes stung and turned misty. Guess it was my turn. Because she really did admit it, didn’t she? The thing I’ve been waiting for this whole time.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Who?” She asked in turn with a sly smile.

“That all depends: what do you want me to call you?”

With that, I walked out of the barn. There was still a whole day ahead of us.

#remoras full #vesuvius #rachel #rhea flection #juniper bark #writing #stories #drama

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b4kuch1n · 5 years ago

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Hatsune Miku, Her of All Sounds, Keeper of the Most Vibrant Dream

still in Her juvenile form. She is a collection of all sounds ever made on Earth; if you’re lucky enough to make it past the wires, you may hear Her real voice. She will stop moving when the Earth becomes quiet.

stems from this ask by @fireflysummers

#VOCALOID #hatsune miku #fan module #lovecraftian horror #eldritch horror #monster #hello I did this #I mean. its of course on some level of perception a joke but #I am in fact well known for treating a joke too seriously #I also had hbomberguy's lovecraft video on repeat while drawing this #and it does fuel me when it comes to the lore #theres that part abt like. otherness experienced as a minority that connects back #to how much we identify with and love inhuman characters #but also I like thinking about 'us' in a larger scale #it is scary but also cool that we just. cant properly grasp big numbers past a certain point #while us as a species definitely exist on that scale #I guess thats otherness in ourselves as a whole? being in awe of our own existence #it is a particular upbeat kind of cosmic horror thats funky fresh #(this does have the potential to be sad tho)#(bc its our data; our information; She is also a ghost)#(if you hear someone you know isn't there anymore #that can also be Her)#this was really fun #I had fun doing this. thanks guys thanks firefly #I will. sleep now

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lord-of-the-ducks · 3 years ago

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I’m so glad that people on tumblr are reading Dracula and making memes about it because I’ve been STARVED for Dracula memes for literal years. I have to scour the internet for groups specifically dedicated to the book (and not the god awful 1992 movie, I’ll rant about that another time though) and when I do find these groups and find memes, they’re usually really broad and frankly not very funny. Like, impact font “JONATHAN AT THE CASTLE BE LIKE” sort of thing. I laugh, because my standards are low and I’ve occasionally found some really funny stuff, but I had to actively search for this stuff.

Now hundreds of strangers on tumblr who are infinitely funnier than I am are making memes about Jonathan being a recipe blogger and no joke, I haven’t laughed this hard in years. I also feel like the biggest fucking nerd on the planet because as soon as I see a joke/meme that is specific enough that it shows that the OP actually read Dracula and knows what they’re talking about, I’m on the floor cackling so much that I can’t breathe. It’s like that one post about chefs going nuts for memes about working at a restaurant. . I’m taking so many screenshots just because I want to have more Dracula memes to show people.

Anyway, apologies for the incoming rant, but I vaguely heard that there was someone throwing a fit over people making Dracula memes and not treating the book seriously, and I’m not sure if that’s true or if it’s just a case of the internet being the internet, but let me make something VERY clear as someone who owns 13 books related to Dracula and even more about vampires in general, and has been doing research on Bram Stoker for pretty much my entire high school career, and will probably be doing so years into the future:

This book is fucking ridiculous.

I’ll talk later this month about why I’m so passionate about it (I already scheduled posts for days I think tumblr is going to go crazy) but anyone who tells you that Dracula is a serious gothic horror novel is lying through their teeth. It’s not. People didn’t start taking it seriously until after Bram Stoker died and the book started getting adaptations. Most of the people I’ve seen call Dracula a literary masterpiece don’t seem to actually have read Dracula, they’re just projecting all their feelings about the most well known monster in western fiction onto the book that created him.

I’ve definitely said this before, but if I accomplish anything in my life, I want it to be making classic literature more accessible. I’m the most anti-gatekeeping anyone could possibly be. But if I see any supposed Dracula veterans being pretentious about it, I am going to gatekeep the FUCK out of them because I firmly believe that anyone who has actually read the book should know that it is fucking ridiculous. I’ll be the first to tell you that this book has massive flaws, from the racism and misogyny and internalized homophobia, to the fact that there are just some bad writing choices like describing exactly how the protagonists found all 50 of Dracula’s boxes in way too much detail. Seriously, I was talking to my uncle a couple months back and he told me that he’s reading Dracula since I like it so much, and first thing I did was reassure him that *yes, that part of the book is boring as hell, it could have been a couple sentences, I promise it goes back to being cool*.

Don’t let ANYONE tell you that you’re enjoying this book wrong. I’ve been making some of the jokes about Jonathan having queer dreams from paprika and being the world’s biggest wife guy for years, and it warms my heart to see people who are also finding those things funny. Even if it’s not high brow or whatever, you’re still engaging with the text. And if you are having trouble understanding the 125 year old language, there is no shame in looking things up. There’s a sparknotes study guide with a summary for each chapter, along with character descriptions and analysis, and if you think that would help you, go for it! If you think an audiobook would help you, there’s a bunch of free ones on YouTube since Dracula is in the public domain, and I’m sure you could also find some on other platforms. There’s also an excellent summary done by Overly Sarcastic Productions over on YouTube, and while I do have a couple nitpicks, it’s really funny and engaging and FUN FACT! THE ENTIRE REASON I READ DRACULA WAS BECAUSE THAT VIDEO MADE ME WANT TO! I read this book for the first time already knowing what happens because it’s much easier for me to read older texts when I don’t need to worry about figuring out what the hell is going on!

(Side Note: I didn’t name myself after Red on purpose, but when I realized that I had given myself the same name as the youtuber who introduced me to my favorite book ever and made me fall in love with literature in general, it made my name so much more meaningful)

I know I’m not the only Dracula veteran who feels this way too. I’ve seen so many people who this book means a lot to expressing excitement at the fact that so many people are reading and genuinely enjoying it, and I’m sure if any of them saw someone being an asshole about it, they would not hesitate to drag them through the mud.

This post was longer than I expected, but I just wanted to express how much I love all the memes and that I’m going to unleash my full fury on anyone who has the audacity to suggest that it’s not the “correct” way to enjoy Dracula. Also, if it isn’t clear, I also have a lot of pent up rage at people who shame others who need audiobooks or study guides

#bram stocker's dracula #daily dracula #dracula daily #Dracula

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raibebe · 4 years ago

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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.

#kafenetwork #johnny #seo youngho #johnny suh #nct #johnny smut #johnny fluff #nct smut #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #johnny fic #johnny fanfic

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justoneacatperson · 3 years ago

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First Date

This is reupload from my old blog!

request by @therealpotatobish

TodoDeku x Fem! Reader

Date with Todoroki and Midoriya is, to put it mildly - chaos. Where do I start?

First we have Todoroki. Very handsome young man with two-tone hair and eyes. We all know that Shoto is not familiar with many things, his childhood was not very colorful and rosy, not at all.

He has not seen his parents take care of each other or behave like a couple, so he is not very familiar with how to treat a person he likes.

He didn’t even realize he liked Midoriya when he was still a student at U.A. It was good that there were his sister to explain to him what those feelings were.

We have already seen that he takes things seriously and does not understand jokes or metaphors, so it takes time to work with him.

Certainly his relationship with Izuku helped him a lot. He showed him what love, care and empathy are, but for him things are complicated again. He and Izuku will date a woman, a woman they have been in love with since their school years in the U.A. Shoto doesn’t know how to treat a woman and what they would like.

We also have the next one, namely Midoriya. Our broccoli boy has remained the same shy young man, despite his fame as the new No.1 hero, this part of him has not changed.

He would certainly do better than Todoroki, but his still shy nature worries him that he won’t be able to talk to you.

They are both worried about your reaction to everything. They have never heard that you like someone, nor have there been rumors that you are with someone, they didn’t even know if you like boys !? Nevertheless, you accepted their invitation to a date, at least they managed to make it clear that they were inviting you to a date, a DATE, and you were fine with that.

Now was the date where they would know if they had a chance with you, and here they were, sitting at the reserved table, waiting for you to come.

21:27p.m

Deku kept a close eye on his watch, looking at every minute. They had arrived about ten minutes ago and were sitting nervously at the table, well, Izuku was moving nervously, and Shoto was sitting meekly, staring at one dot, trying to keep his mind tidy and clear.

-“She will come, Midoriya, our dateis at 9:30p.m.” Todoroki exclaimed, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand under the table to reassure him.

-“Ah, I know, Shoto-san, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous.” the green-haired man replied, smiling at his partner. -“We have been waiting for a long time for the chance to invite her and the fact that she agreed and now we will have a date makes me feel surreal. It’s as if I’ve finally reached a goal that I thought was impossible. It’s very strange that happens, I still consider it unrealistic.”

The two-colored man looked at him with surprised heterochromic eyes. Despite their years together, the things they went through could not be compared to that. And the fact that Deku feels that way surprises him. He is also surprised that he was able to describe how he felt too.

It felt like he was 17 again in his 2nd year at U.A. When he shared his feelings to Midoriya. Confused, scared, excited. He never believed that he would fall in love or be able to be a partner, the love of someone else.

A small smile crept across his face. Todoroki leaned over to his partner, leaning his head on his shoulder. Their physique has changed and evolved over the years. Already in his mid-twenties, Deku had grown much taller than his school years. He was now towering over Shoto.

Midoriya smiled, leaning against Shoto, planting a kiss on his white and red hair. The two parted, looking up at a door that could be heard opening and closing. 20:30, you arrived just in time.

You looked around the restaurant in confusion, looking for your table. Midoriya instinctively raised his hand, waving at you and shouting. -“(Y/n)-chan!” you looked up at them, a wide smile appeared on your face, bringing butterflies into the stomachs of both heroes.

-“Hey, Deku, Sho!” you replied, going to them.

Midoriya wanted to make a good impression by taking your jacket and pulling your chair backward to sit, but you came like a whirlwind, sitting hastily in the seat in front of them. Obviously there will be no good first impression.

-“Oh, I was in such a hurry so as not to be late.” you started, removing your jacket, leaving it on the back of the chair. - “I was nervous not to be late because there was a traffic jam on the road. After I managed to park it took me time to find the restaurant and…”

Deku waved his arms in front of him, trying to reassure you that you weren’t late, sharing his own worries about not being late. So you two became a muttering mess, and Todoroki rested his chin on his hand, happily watching the scene in front of him. Cute.

-“You are not late, you have nothing to worry about.” the two-colored man called out of nowhere, stopping you and Izuku.

-“It’s good to know.” you said calmly, leaving your hands on the table. -“Long time no see.”

-“Since our graduation in the U.A.” added the green-haired man, rubbing the back of his head.

-“What’s happen with you? I last heard you joined Selkie’s agency.” you nodded in agreement to Shoto.

-“Yes, my quirk would be very welcome in sea battles.”

-“Are you adapting fast?” Deku asked cheerfully.

-“Yes, the hero Manual is there too. We have some pretty similar quirks, so he was so kind to help me adapt.” you replied, controlling the water in your glass with your quirk, making it take the shape of a snake and move along the walls of your glass in a circle.

-“This is very good.” exclaimed the hero, tying his hands on the table.

They both felt a little awkward, not knowing how to continue the conversation, fortunately the waitress saved them by giving them the menus. You opened the menu of hard leather covers, looking at the variety of foods.

-“Oh, hey, Sho, they have a cold soba.” you said excitedly, showing him the menu on the first page.

-“So I’ll order a cold soba.” the two-colored man replied before receiving muttering from Midoriya.

-“But, Sho, we have a whole pot full of soba!” you laughed at their interaction, attracting their attention.

-“What?” they both asked at the same time.

-“Nothing, you just haven’t changed since we graduated from the U.A.” you said with a laugh. Deku giggled too, smiling at you.

-“What do you mean? We look the same way we did 7 years ago?” Todoroki asked confusedly, looking at himself and his boyfriend and again to himself. You and Izuku looked at each other and almost fell from your seats with your boisterous laughter. -“Ah?”

-“O-oh…. Sho!” tears formed in the corners of your eyes, wiping them with your hand. -“You’re still funny!”

-“Funny?”

-“Yes.” the green-haired man replied, leaning his head on his partner’s shoulder.

The three of you ordered a teishoku, receiving it in about 30 minutes. Everyone enjoy their food before Todoroki calls.

-“(Y/n), do you see our old class?” you swallowed your food before answering.

-“Yes, even with some very often.” you said, playing with your chopsticks, twisting them between your fingers and doing tricks with them. -“Most often I go out with Kaminari, by some chance it turned out that we work in the same agency.”

-“Kaminari-san?” Deku exclaimed, looking at you in astonishment. You nodded, uttering a little “Uhm.”

-“All right, that’s nice! We haven’t heard from Denki.”

-“Are you close to each other?” Shoto asked, taking another bite of his meal.

-“I’d say yes. We go out often, we message to each other, he’s very cute. He’s also grown a lot from UA, he’s become more responsible and he controls his quirk much better. We have a lot of fun together. We have dinners for us, in which we are on the couch at my or his home and eating popcorn while watching scary movies. "you said with a smile on your face.

-"Oh, I understand…” Todoroki replied, bowing his head over his food, hiding his face through his hair, which he had left to grow for reaching a length where he could tie it in a bun.

Izuku reached under the table, gripping his boyfriend’s thigh, rubbing it lightly to offer support. He knew his boyfriend’s lack of confidence in relationships. He has always worried about whether he is doing well as a partner and doing everything right.

Talking about a boy (and you’re not the person who talks a lot or often about people, especially boys), who is the opposite of his personality and sees that you’re really having fun with him, feels like someone hit him with wet rag across the face.

-“And you guys…” you called, bringing them both back to reality. -“How are you? The press is very interested in your relationship.” you smiled slyly.

-“So… After we graduated from UA, Shoto and I went to Endeavor’s agency, as his partners in catching villains. That was until we turned 22, All Might offered to take his agency… And I took it.” he replied, scratching the back of his head where his undercut was. -“The press found out about my relationship with Todoroki when I took the agency and there were hundreds of news stories that said, ‘Hero No.1 is in a relationship with Endeavor’s son’.”

-”O!?”

-“Yes, and still receives dozens of emails a day, invitations for interviews about our relationship.”

-“It’s too much for you. The press hasn’t learned for so many years that the heroes have a private life that they usually keep to themselves and don’t want to make it public. The personal space of the heroes must be respected.” you said and turned to Todoroki. -“And for so many years as a pro-hero, people have kept leading you the 'son of Endeavor,’ and that’s all you’re known for.”

-“It’s annoying.” Todoroki replied, making you and Deku giggle a little.

-“Well, those are just words from older people in Japan.” the green-haired man exclaimed, rubbing his boyfriend’s thigh. -“I am sure that the young generation will remember you with your name and your deeds.”

-“You’re right.” said his partner.

-“Ah, (Y/n)-san, do you happen to be in a relationship or dating someone?” Midoriya asked you. Shoto immediately ran one hand under the table, squeezing his thigh - too early, Midoriya.

-“O!?” you opened your eyes wide to them from the sudden question. -“No, I’m not in a relationship, I’m not dating anyone. Why do you ask?”

-“Uhhh…” and now was the scariest part of this meeting - to tell you. Shoto looked at Izuku out of the corner of his eye, looking for an answer as to what to do. -“With Shoto we wanted to ask you something…”

-“Yes…” you said under your breath.

-“Would you like to be with us?” Todoroki asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair.

You and Deku looked shocked at the two-colored man. You dropped your chopsticks as you watched Sho like you saw a ghost. Izuku immediately started waving his arms, trying to reassure you, saying that they were not forcing you to be in relationship with them, that they would not be in a hurry, that they would not be angry if you refused, and ect.

It just took you a moment to process Shoto’s question. They wanted to date you? Really? You were like close friends during your school years, but you didn’t think they had any other than platonic feelings about you. They were both open and comfortable, both shy and anxious around you or when talking to you. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for them in the U.A., but once you found out they were in a relationship, it discouraged you a lot.

-“So?” Todoroki called again.

-“Sho, calm down, give her ti…”

-“Yes.” you replied, getting “Uh!?” from them. - “I accept, I would like to date you.”

-“Really?” Midoriya asked in surprise.

-“Yes…” you said, tying your hands on the table. -“I would just ask for time to get used to, as this will be my first relationship in my life, especially with more than one person.”

-“We’ll give you all the time you need.” Todoroki said, taking your hand in his. Where did you get this confidence? - Izuku wondered.

-”Thanks.”

-“So… should we continue our dinner to celebrate our relationship?” the green-haired man asked cheerfully.

-“Yes!” you and Shoto answered at the same time.

#bnha poly #mha poly #tododeku #tododeku x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.

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realcube · 4 years ago

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CRYBABY (1 / 2) | tsukishima k

♡ alt fluff ending (1 / 2) of jealous — alt angst ending ( 2 / 2 )

♡ tw crying, unspecified injury, reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, swearing, rude nicknames & set in a hospital

“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

tsukishima felt like shit. he woke up with a splitting headache, which was only worsened by the bright beam of the LEDs which hung right above his hospital bed. it took him a few moments to become fully conscious but when he heard the irritating beeping of the ECG, his first coherent thought was, ‘wow, i can’t believe a fist fight with the king still has me hospitalised. how embarrassing.’

little did he know, kageyama was in the infirmary room right next to his own, being treated for his broken ankle and nose.

tsukishima wasn’t spared another second to pity himself as his sore head snapped around to meet the gaze of whoever was lingering at the door, “hello?” he called out, squinting to try make out the looming figure before feeling around the side table for his glasses, “come in.”

That voice was unmistakable.

his blood ran cold, suddenly feeling extremely dizzy and sick. “(y/n).” he muttered under his breath in disbelief, as he was finally able to get a clutch on his glasses and push them up the bridge of his nose, easing his headache slightly.

“oh, thanks.” he croaked, his throat dry from both waking up and your presence. if he being completely honest, he hardly processed a word you said; as soon as he realised it was you talking, his mind was just flooded with emotions, feelings and memories alike. hardly any of them were bad — except for the more recent ones — yet he still felt an overwhelming wave of sadness which he had no choice but to hide.

“so are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?” he inquired, concealing his regret with sass, which was all to convincing since it was a usual practise for tsukishima by now. in fact, that’s exactly what had gotten him into this situation.

you inhaled sharply, shocked by the fact that he actually wanted you to stay as you’ve been under the impression that he hates you, which is understandable considering his recent actions. hesitantly, you emerged from behind the curtain that separated the bed he lay in from the door, your heart sinking upon seeing the state he lay in; out of the many years you had been friend with him, this is the worst you’ve ever seen him. pasty, chapped lips, bloodshot eyes, messy hair and extremely scrawny, yet you couldn’t help but admire him for pushing through none the less. in your eyes, he’s still beautiful — but he’d never believe you if you told him — and he thought the exact same about you.

“how, um, how are you?” you stuttered, shuffling awkwardly as you took a seat in the chair that was already placed beside the bed. the same chair that his brother had sat in yesterday and him mother the day before that.

“what do you think?” he scoffed, gesturing to his current state and injury that was highlighted by the thick, white cast.

your eyes widened, being hit once again by the harsh reality that he was no longer your friend. “i- i don’t even know why i asked.” you murmured, voice meek and shaky enough to catch the attention of tsukishima, who also forgot that he was supposed to dislike you.

his comment wasn’t intended to be rude but in context, he could completely understand why you thought that — however, that’s just the type of guy he is. looking at your disheartened expression, he felt his own fall to resemble it. maybe kageyama did knock some sense into the blonde as he was now able to thinking clearly, recollect on how poorly he treated you and wonder why he did those things.

truly, he wanted nothing more to apologise. to tell you how awful he was and that he doesn’t hate you, quite the opposite actually! he needed to let you know that you did nothing wrong and everything bad that happened was his fault and he was willing to take full responsibility. but of course, his pride didn’t let him. all he was able to utter was, “did you check up on kageyama?”

it was a harmless question, or so he thought. just innocently inquiring about the wellbeing of his teammate and your ex, so why were tears rolling down your cheeks? and why did he feel the urge to cry too?

“yeah, but it was really awkward.”

tsukishima cheek heated up with both annoyance and at the fact your hand was now resting upon his, “why are you crying then?!” he snapped, angrily intertwining his fingers with yours, not thinking much of it, “you made it seem like he died or something!”

“why are you crying?!”

“i’m not fucking crying!” he was crying. crystalline tears running down his cheek tickling his pale skin.

outstretching your arm, you brushed your finger against his face to wipe away his tear then proceed to show him how the pad of your index finger glistened under the intense room light. “yes, you are, crybabyshima!” you half-cried, half-laughed, resulting in tsukishima hunching over to cackle at the nickname.

“i’m crying at how stupid you are!” he tired to hiss but he really couldn’t take himself seriously, involuntarily punctuating each word with a chuckle or wheeze.

“watch it, kei. the stupid one of us is in a hospital bed.”

he quirked a brow, breathing frantically from having just laughed his lungs out, “uh, yeah. because of stupidest one’s boyfriend.” he didn’t even know if what he was saying made sense or not, as his main priority was trying to catch his breath.

“ex boyfriend.” you corrected, both of you becoming uncomfortably aware that you were still holding hands at the same time, yet neither of you dared to move an inch. you sniffled while wiping your cheek with the sleeve of your jacket, “kageyama told me what happened. it was vague but he said that you attacked him because he cheated on me, is that what really happened?”

his memory of the event was as hazy as that description. although, that sounded about right but now that he heard it aloud, he realised how pathetic it sounded so obviously he didn’t want to admit to that sort of behaviour. “i don’t remember.”

“it doesn’t sound like you.” your voice was hushed, as if he was going to scold you if you spoke up. “so what do you remember?”

the headache that was previously preventing him from doing any deep thinking had now somewhat dissipated, allowing his to avert his gaze onto the hospital floor as he hummed in thought, “the last thing i remember clearly was walking to school the night after you-” he gulped, the horrible memories suddenly flooding into his mind, making his lips twitch into a frown as he recalled all the nasty things he said to you, “the night after you called me.”

you nodded, the memories not treating you kindly either as all you were able to do was mouth an ‘oh’.

“listen, (y/n).” tsukishima started, the sight of your dejected aura prompting him to finally, partially, speak his mind. “i’m sorry about what i said. i don’t even know why i said it so i don’t have an explanation..i’m just sorry.” he didn’t expect forgiveness, in all honesty. if the roles were reverse, he was unsure as to whether he’d forgive you or not. well, he probably would but still, that’s just because he’s fallen so he doesn’t expect the same leeway from you.

but to his surprise, your expression softened as you cooed, “it’s fine, kei.” with a shrug, absentmindedly stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “i somewhat forgive you.”

his eyes basically popped out of their sockets, “what?” he almost instantly blurted out, looking at you as if you had gone mad. “why?” there was slight disgust laced in his voice, but that was as expected of him so you didn’t read to much into it.

“because you’re hot.” you joked with an eyeroll, taken back by the audacity he had to question your decision, “why do you care? just be thankful that we can be friends again!” you chirped but his grimace wiped the smile clean off you face.

he genuinely would’ve been more content if you had just stopped after your first statement. i mean, you looked at him like he was your world, even when he was laying beaten on a hospital bed, and the way your thumb gently stoked the back of his frail, calloused hand like it was treasure resulted in butterflies erupting in his stomach. was that just you being friendly?

“you really are stupid.” he tutted, averting his gaze from your watery eyes as it would do nothing more than evoke unneeded and unappreciated emotions within him. “i think i’ve made it exceeding clear that i don’t want to be your friend.” despite his efforts, his words still sounded unsure and a light blush kept creeping onto his features.

a gasp escaped your lips, your eyebrows furrowing as you immediately felt a surge of impenetrable rage shoot through your body, “why not?! i thought we were getting on like old times.” after the initial rush of adrenaline subsided, you found yourself sulking, slumping back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest like a child. you just wanted things to go back to the way they were before, was that too much to ask? or did he truthfully detest you? and if that’s the case, why was he holding your hand so tightly, refusing to let go?

“idiot, i mean i want to be your boyfriend.” the last word was spoken meekly, as if it was a curse. “i didn’t think i’d have to spell it out for you but i guess i shouldn’t have overestimated your intelligence.” ironic, considering that you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that he was joking. you had known him for long enough to be aware that he was physically incapable of giving a compliment without following it up with sarcasm or an insult.

it was as if someone had lit a blast furnace underneath your chair as you felt your whole body heat up to an uncomfortable extend, instantly aware of your hand in his you felt your palm become clammy — or perhaps that was his — either way, you were quick to yank away, leaving tsukishima extremely confused and oddly offended.

“kei..” you breathed, mind completely blank, “why?”

“what do you mean? i don’t know why.” this whole week has been a roller-coaster of emotions for him and now he was trying to finally bail himself out but you weren’t making it any easier, but at the end of the day, he only had himself to blame as you’d probably be a lot more forthcoming if it wasn’t for his past attitude.

there was a part of him that was ready to gush on to you about how warm you make him, how your touch sends butterflies through his body, how your general demeanour makes him feel as though he could entrust his whole life to you but his pride wouldn’t allow him to express said thoughts.

but fortunately, he didn’t need to elaborate as your finger found his jaw, tilting it upwards so he’d meet your reassuring gaze, “i’d love to. we could go to that dessert place near your house and get that couple’s discount! well, when you recover, of course.”

poor, simp tsukki didn’t even try to resist the smile his lips curled into as your minty breath tickled his skin. “i ask you out and the first thing you think about is dessert? typical.”

smirking, you leaned in to pinch his cheek but immediately jerked backwards when he winced, “ah, i’m sorry! old habits die hard.” you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a resurgence of the previous heat when he kissed the back of your hand to show no hard feelings.

“it’s fine. but as an apology, stay with me for a while.” he said, his eyes fixated on the window by his bed. his hand subconsciously finding it’s way into yours once again.

#haikyuu x gender neutral reader #tsukishima scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #haikyuu x gn!reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #hq tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu!!#👾fluff

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years ago

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DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.

FartsApp

Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.

For me at least.

While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.

Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.

Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we’re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.

Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.

Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).

During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.

That one, surreal night.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.

Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.

Yes: I know how lucky I am.

It’s been 4 months since he found out.

And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.

Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.

Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.

Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.

Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…

No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.

I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).

“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”

I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.

The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.

But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.

And he obviously didn’t.

He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.

I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.

Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:

Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”

Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”

Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”

Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!

Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.

One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…

Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”

Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”

Dave: “I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”

Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”

Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.

Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.

Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”

Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”

Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?

Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”

Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”

Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.

Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).

I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.

It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.

Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.

I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.

I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).

Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”

Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?

Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.

And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.

Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.

Another couple of minutes passed.

Was he making another…?

Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”

Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?

I literally pitched a tent in my pants.

There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!

It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.

The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.

Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.

But I had to tell him.

Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”

But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.

Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”

Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…

Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”

Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”

Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”

Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.

He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.

After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.

I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.

Dave: “Tim… come here…”

I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.

Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.

Another fart, just as big as the first one.

He was on fire that day!

Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.

Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.

Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”

He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.

Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”

Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.

I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.

Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.

Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”

Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”

Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.

I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.

This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.

“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.

I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.

“Dave… what?”

It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.

“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”

“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”

I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.

Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.

“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”

“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”

“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”

“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”

And he hang up.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.

I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.

But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.

And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.

“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.

It was Dave. Again.

He sent another video.

I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.

He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.

“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”

Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.

“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!

“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.

“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.

My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.

My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.

And I couldn’t be happier.

End of Episode 1

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

74 notes · View notes

mshomestyle · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request about a short story or head canon for Midoriya, Hawks or Shoto( any of the three will do) about S/O who experience a trauma about her work before due to abusive management, coworkers who bullies her and clients that demands the impossible things/wants them to break the policies for them because they are from influential family. That incident leads her to resign. S/O keeps the incident from Midoriya, hawks or shoto but her past keeps haunting her, how can Midoriya, Hawks or Shoto will help their S/O?

My ask box is crickets rn, so I can do all three! I will do a drabble writing about what happened to the reader and then do HCs for the rest!

Reader who was Abused at her Old Job x MHA Multiple Characters [Drabble and Head Canons]:

(Midoriya, Hawks, & Shoto)

The incident:

Oh, how you hated this place. There was currently not any better options for you out there, so you had no choice but to just take it. Your coworkers were rude and bullied you every chance they got, only to tell you things like ‘It’s just a joke, why are you taking it so seriously?’ when you reacted negatively towards them. You knew they weren’t fully joking, but all you could do was grin and bear it.

The upper management positions were filled to the brim with people who not only abused their positions, but also their employees. You were often stuck doing tasks not in your job description only to get written up and scolded for “neglecting” your actual job. And it usually happened by the same bosses who made you stop doing your work in the first place.

Lastly, and perhaps the worst of all, was the clients. They walked all over you and demanded things that just weren’t possible, and no matter how many times you politely told them that you would lose your job if you were to fulfill particular requests of theirs, you would get told in response ‘Don’t you know who I am? My family practically built this city! I’ll get you fired if you don’t do as I say!’

Day after day you came home wondering when this would all end. You just couldn’t take it anymore, but sadly this was all you had. There was nothing to save you from this.

Until one day, you were discovered so to speak. Your work was recognized by a top hero, who immediately wanted you to work for them, and you had to say that seeing your bosses beg for you to stay and your coworkers’ mouths dropping was satisfying.

It was great to be gone from that nightmare, but as time passed, you learned that you weren’t truly free from it just yet.

Midoriya:

-All Might had actually scouted you out to work for the Pro-Hero Deku at his agency.

-It was easy to tell that Izuku was caught off guard when he first met you, but not in a bad way.

-He was not only interested in your talents, but also you as well.

-So, once he worked up the courage to ask you out on a date, your relationship began. And you had to admit, Izuku was an incredible boyfriend.

-He was always so sweet, though he didn’t make you feel as if you had to date him because you worked for him.

-Everything seemed perfect, until these negative thoughts started to arrive.

-You wondered if you would ever have to deal with rude coworkers, or if they were talking about you behind your back. You wondered if any of the clients asking for Deku’s help would try to get you to manipulate the system for them. And sadly, you wondered if Deku would start to abuse his power.

-These thoughts were small at first, but as they grew, they appeared in your actions. You became more quiet and tried to make yourself seem less noticeable to those around you.

-You just couldn’t help but to feel that way as it seemed as if your old Job still had a hold on you.

-But, you did have an amazing boyfriend, so Deku noticed in no time at all. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting kind of strange at work lately.” The two of you were at his place when he expressed this concern.

-”Y-Yes, I’m fine,” you quickly told him, faking a smile. Izuku didn’t buy it one bit, and you could tell that by the look on his face. You let out a sigh, “Sorry...It’s just...My last job was so horrible. My coworkers, clients, and even my bosses were just so harsh and demanding...I guess it still stuck with me because-Well, I’m afraid that it’s going to happen with you and your agency.”

-Izuku looked taken back by this, and immediately he reached over and grabbed your hand, “Oh, you don’t need to apologize!” he told you, “I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but I promise I’d never let that happen to you again. Everyone at my agency likes you, and I’d always take the side of my employees over a rude client. I know my words can’t undo all that you’ve went through, but I promise that I won’t let that happen to you again.”

-He sounded so genuine and earnest, and you knew that he was. It would take some time, but you knew everything would be alright with him there with you.

Hawks:

-”You have a high profile client in your office, now hurry it up or you are fired!”

-You nodded quickly to your boss before rushing into your office, almost tripping on your way in as you made it to your desk.

-Hawks was a well known hero and deeply loved by people, so needless to say, your coworkers were pissed that you would be the one seeing him.

-“How may I help you?” Your tried to act as professionally as possible, but you were actually a mess on the inside.

-Hawks looked at you with an eyebrow raised, “Does your boss always talk to you that way?” he asked. Your mouth dropped as you were asked that. He heard?! Hawks started to chuckle, “Sorry, my feathers pick up vibrations, allowing me to easily overhear things.” You quickly tried your best to overcome your embarrassment.

-”No, no, it’s fine,” you told him, “I couldn’t keep you waiting. Now, what do you need?” This seemed to earn you an amused look.

-”I actually came here hoping to poach one of the workers for my agency,” Hawks told you, “With the way that asshat of a boss is, I’m sure this will be a good opportunity for you, too.” You were taken back by this, the wind seeming to knock right out of you.

-”E-Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?” you asked.

-”I can even match your salary,” he smiled, “Now tell me, what’s the funnest and most satisfying way that you can quit?”

-You started to work for Hawks less than a week later, and then a month after that, he asked you out on a date.

-He was such an incredible man, that it was no wonder so many people fawned over him, and the more you got to know him, the more you felt as if he deserved that.

-But then...the doubts started to set in.

-You were starting to remember your old job and the way that you were treated, and despite the fact that the employees that worked for Hawks were so warm and friendly, you still felt a nagging pit in your stomach.

-What you had dealt with before was no joke, and sometimes thoughts from it kept you awake at night.

-It was just a good thing for you that your new boyfriend was so attentive. At the first sign of changes in your behavior, he confronted you about it.

-”Hey, you alright, baby? You’ve been kind of down recently.”

-You felt kind of unsure if you could truly talk to him about this, but he was such a good man that maybe his help was what you needed.

-”Remember my old job? Well, what you saw wasn’t the half of it. My coworkers and even my clients were just horrible pieces of work. They bullied and abused me, and well...I’m haunted by that.” You looked away from him, crossing your arms as you thought about the past.

-Hawks easily walked closer to you, reaching out and lifting your chin. “Sweetheart, you’re so much better than those kinds of people. I saw it, and I’m sure they knew that, which was why they targeted you. Good people don’t hurt others. Besides, I’m here for you, and if you ever have to deal with someone like that again, I’ll save you,” Hawks wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “Now, the next time I see your old boss, I’m going to thank him for giving you to me, then call him an asshole.” You couldn’t help but to giggle at that.

-Hawks was just what you needed.

Shoto:

-Moving on and putting the past behind you was all you wanted to do, so when you received a job offer from the pro hero Shoto himself, you took it without delay.

-You were a bit intimidated at first, knowing that this was one of the best hero agencies in the country, but everyone around you just made you feel so at home-Especially your boss.

-And speaking of your boss, when he first laid eyes on you, he became a bit of an awkward mess.

-Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you out, and several months later you were in a happy relationship together.

-Shoto was sweet, caring, and very loving towards you. You honestly felt as if you didn’t deserve a man this good, but there he was happily dating you.

-Everything seemed fine, until you felt a strong relapse in emotions. You were working in a safe and kind environment, so why was your anxiety about your old job starting to creep up?

-You began to remember the way your coworkers treated you, the way your bosses would demand the impossible, and the way your clients spoke to you as if you were nothing.

-This sort of thing had you tossing and turning at night and becoming very nervous about your current job. What if you messed up? Would your new coworkers start to criticize you? Would Shoto?

-”...Hey...Hey?” Shoto didn’t yell much, and even now he proved that as he gently got your attention. “You okay?”

-”Yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly faked a smile. Shoto had invited you to his office to eat lunch, which was a pretty regular occurrence.

-”I see...,” he spoke softly, indicating that he didn’t believe you. He then remained silent for a while before out of nowhere-”You know...You’ve been like this recently. I even notice that you have such a stressed look on your face when you sleep.” You felt your cheeks warm up at the latter thing that he told you.

-”Seriously, I’m alright,” you insisted. Shoto just looked at you, though; his disbelief in your words more than clear.

-”You also seem a bit distracted at times when you’re doing your work here,” he said. At this point, it became easy to tell that he was going to keep listing off your recent behavior until you told the truth. So, you took a deep breath.

-”Okay, I get it,” you said, “Look...I-...The place that I used to work at was a nightmare. Everything from the bosses to the clients was just brutal to the point where just thinking about it keeps me up at night...I hate that it still has this power over me, but I can’t help it. That time really scarred me.”

-Shoto watched your expression as you spoke, and then let out a sigh. “I’m sure it will take time before you can feel better about that sort of thing and move on, but if you keep it bottled up that won’t happen.” You looked at him curiously, “I’m here for you, alright? Instead of letting these thoughts just stay there, tell me about them. I’m sure once you get it out, and I tell you how awful the people you worked with were and how much better you are than them, you’ll be able to sleep with no problems at all.” You couldn’t help but to smile at his words.

-”You’d really do that for me?” you asked.

-”Of course. You mean the world to me.”

-You were sure that with Shoto’s help, you’d feel a million times better.

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eyoricka · 4 years ago

Text

Pete’s assistant - Pete Davidson

Words: 2160

Warning: 2 curse words

Requested: yes

You had been Pete’s assistant for many years now. You had begun as an intern at NBC and that’s how you met Pete. The two of you immediately clicked, there was like a strange bond between you like you always knew each other or were meant to meet, to work together. So at the end of your internship, Pete asked you if you wanted to be his assistant, to help him with pretty much everything. He wasn’t famous enough to really have a publicist, so you also fill up this role. It was funny at first. Pete was nice to you, never asking for anything impossible to get. Contrary to many other celebs with their assistant, he treated you like his equal. Planning interviews was something you enjoyed, he was mostly in some presented by his friends, so it was pretty chill, and you learnt so much. You let Pete took charge of his social media presence, he was more than okay at it, was natural and able to create a connection with his fans.

However, at some point everything changed. Pete got way bigger, he was famous like really famous, not just known by SNL and stand-ups afficionados. Things got out of hand quickly. You still liked to work for Pete, he was still adorable to you but handling negative comments, the infamous song about him, people reactions and the repercussions on his mental health was a nightmare. You had too much to think about: to make sure he was feeling okay or at least not too bad, to make sure he would sleep, eat, not take too much drugs, go to work, go outside, try to stop the continuous harassment… Pete hired a publicist to take some weight out of your shoulders and have someone who would focus only on his impacted public image. Even though, Pete was probably at rock bottom, it was nice to see that he would still be kind to you, trying to smile a bit when you were ding your best to cheer him up.

And this is how the problems began for you. You knew the rule number one of any assistant: never fall for your boss. But you couldn’t help it. You had always loved his personality however you never considered having feelings for him. However, seeing him hurt, fragile but still caring about his close circle, still trying his best everyday for people he loved, still being nice when he could easily be an ass and take the heartbreak as an excuse, was enough to make you acknowledged that maybe you wanted to be more than a friend to him.

You decided to keep your emotions for yourself. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself or lose your job and friend for feelings that would never be reciprocated. To forget about them, you went on dates with several people, it was a failure. Every time you could stop yourself from comparing your date with Pete. Even if some people were funny enough, smart enough, kind enough, they were simply not enough. A date with them was pleasant but you couldn’t picture more, and it would be cruel to force a relationship with someone you didn’t have feelings for just to hide your current crush. So after some dates you gave up on the idea of finding someone for the moment and preferred to take time for yourself. As the year went on, you were the witness of Pete’s different and non-working relationships. You were happy for him, truly. He was able to move on which was great and he felt more like himself. But it still hurt to see him get far too involved in relations that were doomed to fail. He was too intense and passionate for his own good. You advised him to follow your example and take time for himself, to love himself and understand what he wanted, needed from a partner. Surprisingly, he did it and it did good on him.

A few months later, you were at a small gathering to celebrate Pete’s Netflix comedy special. The reviews were good, and the audience was following, it was great to watch Pete’s career on track to success, he would finally be recognized for his art. You were talking to Dave about the process of writing when you are down and how cathartic humor is. You glanced distractedly several times in Pete’s direction confident that you were discreet. As your drink was empty, you scanned the room to find the nearest bottle of a beverage you like. Your eyes met Colson’s ones and he grinned mischievously at you. You rose an eyebrow wondering why he looked like a devious elf and quickly manage to appease your thoughts, rationalizing that it was only Colson being his drunk and high self.

As you made your way to the counter full of bottles to pour you a glass, you felt two hands clapped your shoulders. You turned promptly and faced Colson who was smirking even wider.

“What do you want?” You asked not surprised by his presence but cautious about what he was about to say.

“Well just to chat with a lovely assistant, it has been a while since we haven’t talk.” He replied sweetly, an innocent smile replacing his smirk and you understood fully well why so many girls were crazy about him.

“Cut the crap” You deadpanned, not in the mood for his banter.

“I still wonder why I try to sugarcoat things with you” he mumbled certainly more for himself. After some long seconds of silence, he let out in a charming voice: “Don’t you think that would be the perfect night?”

You weren’t sure of what he was implying. He liked flirting but you seriously doubt that he was since he would never cross that border, maybe he was just bored or wanted to tease you. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer that would fuel his joust.

“You don’t ask me the perfect night for what?” He added kind of amused by your lack of reaction. “Well I will tell you anyway because else it wouldn’t be funny. So my dear don’t you think it would be the perfect night to admit your badly hidden feelings for you know who.”

You gulped at those words. You attempt to come back with a witty, chill repartee that would show that you were diverted by this non-sense and not knowing about what he was talking about, but your mind was blank. You were sure that tonight before sleeping while your mind would replay this scene, you would think of many clever replies.

“Still no answer, I bet that this time it is not for the same reason, right” Colson joked, and you cursed yourself.

“I just don’t understand what you mean” you eventually managed to say, cringing at this lame attempt to act cool.

“Your blushing cheeks and stiff body are telling the opposite” Nice even your own body was now betraying you.

“I get that you are bored Colson and even if it would probably be the funniest thing of your night, I don’t plan on becoming the biggest idiot of the party for your entertainment. I know Pete doesn’t like me and it is okay, you can’t control someone’s feelings and…”

“I hope you realize that you already are the biggest idiot of the night” He cut you “and Pete is too. I can’t get my head around the fact that you are both blind, incapable of seeing the way the other looks at you. Shshshsh don’t reply, don’t want to waste my time on hearing you tell me that I am lying, imagining stuffs, and complaining about my behavior, I‘ve already had this long speech from Pete. You can do whatever you want, go tell him or don’t but just know that you don’t risk much. And don’t count on him to come, he is sure he has no chance. So please have the balls for the both you.” He was about to leave you there with many contradictory thoughts filling your head when he leaned to whisper: “But really please do tell him tonight, I bet some bucks with John that you would be the brave one, don’t prove me wrong.”

You nudged him and he burst out of laughter as you showered him with imaginative curses. You decided to sit few minutes just to take time to reflect. You needed to process what you just heard. If indeed had feelings for you, things would change drastically. You felt yourself slowly but surely drifting into panic. A part of your brain was screaming that it was lies maybe because it was easier to accept than the truth. You had dreamt of this but it was a dream and you weren’t sure that you were ready for that right now. Intrusive thoughts were running in your head defeating your ounce of rationality and calm. One of your hand was clenched on your drink firmly and you closed your eyes while inhaling and exhaling to relax yourself. From the outside you certainly looked crazy but you didn’t care, it didn’t even crossed your mind.

You were so focused on your breath that you didn’t notice someone siting next to you and neither feel this person hand on yours. When you opened your eyes, you detect that you were no longer alone and the person with you was none other than Pete. He softly smiled at you and you felt like dying inside, this smile was enough to make you forget any doubts, anything, to appease. You smiled back at him kindly. He seemed to be struggling to say something and you took the lead.

“I guess that Colson talks to you too, huh?” You questioned, your voice was a bit shaking and you had eaten half of your words however you knew that he had understood you.

“Kind of” he stated and your next words died in your throat, you were losing your confidence. Those tow simple words held a clear message: yes we talk but no I don’t like you. “Actually, John did most of the talking” he joked or at least try to. He was also way to stress to really be funny.

You wanted to say something, to admit what was consuming you inside nevertheless you were scared, you refuse to be too blunt on this. You had to be subtle, to find a way to make him realize but without saying it, so if the feelings were not reciprocal it would not be too awkward.

“Colson mentioned a bet on us” You hid your reddening face behind your drink and casually take a sip or at least as casually as you can considering your current position.

“I heard about it too” His fingers were drumming against his tights in nervousness. “I am kind of bother by it you see.” You nodded, you felt crushed inside, of course he would be bothered, who would not be bothered to be shipped with someone they don’t have feelings for. You did everything you could to remain still and not crack, not now, not in front of him, of his friends. “I don’t really any of them to get this money like I guess I want them to be right, but I don’t like them betting on us”. You blinked several times not sure if you were on the same page. “I am not very clear, I am? Well obviously, I am not, I have never been very clear in those situations. Maybe clearer than now, because now what I am saying is a mess, well normally it is confused but understandable. And I am rambling right now and I don’t even know why. Maybe because it is intimidating, like we know each other for so long and what I am saying is that it is different.”

He had lost you with his confused sentences, was he trying to reject you or the contrary. You wanted a certain answer, not an interpretation based on a wrong reading of the situation, actually you did not want this answer, you needed it. He was still digressing when you took the courage to interrupt him: “Pete please listen to me okay.” He shut up and looked at you in the eyes, sort of hanging of the words you would pronounce. “I like you Pete and not like I like Ricky or John, I mean not like a friend. Do you understand?”

There were few awfully long seconds of silence before you felt Pete’s forehead against yours and his hands on yours. “Fuck, you are a lot better at verbalizing this than I am” He smiled brightly, he was so beautiful when he was happy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked still quite unsure and you gently pressed your lips against his. It was a short and sweet kiss, the kind that promise wonderful tomorrows full of love, full of life.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #snl fic #pete davidson fic #pete davidson oneshot #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson fanfic

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iamdeku · 4 years ago

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Strictly Business: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Pro hero!Izuku meeting his new personal assistant who is nervous and had previous terrible experiences with Proheros who treated her like a tool. (Reader is female)

This was a really fun request to do! I loved the idea for this and definitely got a little carried away with the word count, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Bad bosses. I did not proofread.

You had been nervous when you had started working for the #1 hero. You had worked hard to get here, but it had been a long road, and it hadn’t always been fun. In fact, up until now it had been terrible. When you walked into Deku’s office, you were seriously thinking about undoing years of work and changing your career path entirely.

Your dream had been to work with heroes. Not be harassed by them.

You first job had also been your first mistake. You should have known better than to work with the Fresh-Picked hero, Grape Juice, but you were new to the industry and no one had warned you off. So you became a personal assistant to your sleaziest boss to date.

Mineta had done his best to ruin your life. He sexually harassed you at ever turn, abused his power, kept you after hours and made you do ridiculous things. When you finally gathered the courage to quit, you never looked back.

When you were looking for your next job, you decided it was better to go with an established hero, one who had been in the game a long time. Endeavor, as the former #1 hero, seemed like a solid, safe choice. You were so wrong.

You worked for Endeavor for years, unwilling to quit the paycheck, but the experience was awful. Endeavor was arrogant, with a terrible temper and a hefty helping of sexism. By the time you were in a financially stable enough place to quit that job, you had lost all faith in the heroes around you.

So now, starting your first day working for Deku, you were prepared for the worst. You were sure you were about to be introduced to some fresh torture, but you were ready for whatever he would level at you. Heroes could sink no lower in your eyes.

So naturally, you were surprised on your first day when he seemed…nice. Sweet even.

You knocked on his office door, a combination of dread and resignation swirling in your stomach. You expected a wait, but he answered it almost immediately.

“Hi! You’re my new personal assistant, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t at your interview. I meant to be there but there was a crisis downtown I got called in for. I hope you got the gift basket I sent to your house to apologize. I really am so sorry, it’s terrible policy not to have met you before now.”

You had gotten that gift basket, actually, but you hadn’t thought he was aware of it. You definitely hadn’t thought it was his idea, but from the sounds of his speech it definitely had been. You blinked at him a couple of times, trying to gather your wits after that rapid speech.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m your new personal assistant. It’s very nice to meet you. What can I do for you today sir?”

He seemed confused, as though he hadn’t expected a personal assistant to be ready to work. That couldn’t be right though. He was an experienced pro.

“Didn’t they tell you when you got here? I thought we could start with lunch together, so I can get to know you since I missed your interview. I’m sorry, I should have sent you an email.”

Your heart sank at his words, all of your hopes for his kindness to be genuine crashing with it. So, it was to be the hopelessly flirtatious boss who thought you existed to fulfill his fantasies again. You had seen that before.

“I’m really not sure that would be wise, sir. I like to maintain a strict level of professionalism,” you said, making your refusal as polite as you could.

He blinked, as though it hadn’t even occurred to him that might not be professional.

“Oh. I suppose you have a point. Well, why don’t we eat here while we work then? I can ask you a few of the questions I didn’t get to for your interview while you settle in.”

You sighed internally. There was really no way you could politely turn that down, so you forced your face into a smile.

“That sounds like it could work well.”

You were pleasantly surprised when your lunch actually went well. Deku never made a move on you, other than his request for you to call him Izuku, which seemed to apply to all the employees. It could have just been a ploy to get you to let your guard down, but all the same, you wanted to believe he really was this kind.

You two worked together in his office the whole day, and you became familiar with his schedule. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable, and as the day wore on you decided cautious optimism was the way to go. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You smiled fondly at the memory, chopping carrots on the counter. Across the room from you, the man you had come to know well was pacing, mumbling frantically as he analyzed some old battle playing on his TV.

“Izuku, you’re going to throw off my cooking with all that racket, and then we’ll have nothing to eat.” You laughed lightly.

He nearly jumped 10 feet in the air. “Sorry, sorry! I guess I just got a little lost in thought. Although I guess I wasn’t the only one lost. I asked you about my schedule earlier and you didn’t seem to hear me at all.”

You blushed in shame. “Sorry.”

Izuku shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to me all the time. Obviously. What were you thinking about?”

“I was just remembering my first day working for you and how terrified I was.”

It seemed silly to you now, but back then you never could have predicted you would be best friends with your boss, let alone cooking dinner for him while working unofficial overtime as a passion project. You never thought that working for Izuku would be what you always wanted.

“Why were you terrified? Just because I’m #1? You’d worked with famous heroes before. I’m no one special.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

“You are special. You were the first hero I’d worked with who didn’t make me miserable. Every boss I had before you either sexually harassed me, overworked me or was just plain unpleasant. Usually all of those. I had given up on heroes before I met you,” you confessed casually.

Izuku blanched at you.

“What?” The word was breathless, barely audible.

“Yeah. I thought you knew my work history. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but anyone with any experience working with heroes will tell you Endeavor is not a super cuddly guy.”

“I…had no idea.” You looked up and found, to your surprise, that Izuku’s eyes were swimming with tears. “I never knew you were treated like that. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. I have you now.” You froze at your misstep.

He would probably never notice it, but you had. It really hadn’t been your intention to fall in love with your boss, but he had been so sweet and kind to you that it had happened naturally. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the energy he had for the things he loved, his strength and dedication had all lead you here.

“I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you again. Or anyone. I’ll make sure your past employers get investigated.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

There was silence in Izuku’s house as you stared down at the carrot you had been cutting. In an effort to lighten the mood, you tried to make another joke.

“You know, that first day when you invited me to lunch, I thought you were hitting on me.” You laughed a little bit at the absurdity of it. “I know now that you would never do that, obviously.”

You heard the crash when Izuku dropped the mug of tea he had been holding. Before you could move, he was scrambling to pick it up, cheeks bright red and flaming.

“I-Oh, this is terribly awkward.” Izuku mumbled, no doubt thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Wait. Were you flirting with me?” You asked, breathless.

“No! I mean…not…not then,” he stammered.

“Are you-” You stopped, taking a moment to gather your courage as Izuku stood, effectively giving up on the shards of pottery at his feet. “Are you flirting with me now?”

He stiffened, looking deeply uncomfortable as he met your gaze.

“Yes. I mean, not intentionally! It’s just that I have feelings with you, but I would never act on them. I would never want to make you uncomfortable and if you feel like you need to resign now because of that, I understand. I would be happy to recommend you to any of the other pro-heroes I know, and I can assure you they would make excellent bosses.”

You crossed the room to stand in front of him, taking one of his awkwardly flailing hands in your own.

“I think I am going to have to resign, unfortunately.” You watched his face fall before quickly correcting yourself. “It seems like it would be inappropriate to date my boss. I have feelings for you too, Izuku.”

Rising up on your tiptoes, you dared to kiss his cheek, hot from his blush and scattered with freckles.

“You do?”

The question is quiet, but you hear it clearly with his breath in your ear, faces still close from where you haven’t dared to move. You pull back now, surveying his awestruck face.

“Yes. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I guess it was sort of inevitable that I would fall for you.”

You smiled, biting your lip and staring down at your feet. Izuku’s warm, calloused hand reached up to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to his.

“So does this mean you want to be with me?”

The words seemed too good to be true, striking somewhere deep in your chest and knocking you breathless. Yes. Please, yes, let it be true.

“I would like that very much. If you would, I mean.”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That was never my intention with this, but after getting to know you, I really do like you. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I think you’re beautiful and clever and funny and I would love to take you out on a date, if that’s something you would want.”

You smiled, leaning gently into the palm of his hand that cupped your face, bringing your own hand up to twine your fingers together.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Izuku laughed softly, and you could hear the emotion in the sound.

“You know, I was so lonely before you. I was really just hoping for a friend when I hired you. I thought maybe we would get along okay and I could have someone to keep me company. I was crushed when you said you liked to keep it professional, but I vowed to myself I would honor your wishes.”

“Yeah. We both did a great job of keeping it professional.” You gestured to your surroundings, snickering to yourself.

“I seem to recall you inviting me into your home first,” he teased.

“Hey! I was having a home decorating crisis! I could not build that shelf myself.”

“Or, as it turns out, with my help.”

You snorted at the memory of your backwards shelf, which you had eventually decided to just make do with. As it turned out, Izuku was terrible at building furniture. He was great at making you happy though.

“Well, it all turned out for the best.”

“It sure did. But I think we can both agree that you’re the one who’s not professional here.”

You rolled your eyes, rising up on your tiptoes.

“How’s this for professional?” You breathed.

Izuku seemed like he might ask questions, but before he could, you kissed him gently. When you pulled away, you were both smiling. Your hands had moved to wrap around his neck, and his hand had fallen to your waist.

“I think I’m really starting to like professionalism.”

#mha #bnha #agedup!midoriya #prohero!deku #deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku

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doloresdraws · 3 years ago

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‘Sometimes I hate every single stupid word you say Sometimes I wanna slap you in your whole face There's no one quite like you, you push all my buttons down I know life would suck without you

At the same time, I wanna hug you I wanna wrap my hands around your neck You're an asshole but I love you And you make me so mad, I ask myself Why I'm still here, or where could I go You're the only love I've ever known But I hate you, I really hate you So much I think it must be True love’

I can't believe it, but I finished one of my old WIPs from 2019. I am not 100% satisfied with how it turned out, but considering it was a very old piece, I did what I could to try and fix it to the point I was somehow happy.

The hornyiest Kindred in San Francisco. Well, Maddy is and Chester is maybe a dumb asshole, but even he is not that daft to say no when someone proposition him in that way :D

Chester is a prone to violence jerk who likes to get wasted even as a Kindred, he is not the brightest tool in the shed and one might say he has no redeeming qualities. According to Maddy, though, he apparently fucks well. XD

Madeline is on the other hand a well-educated, smart woman who has no problems adapting quickly to various social situations and at the same time not being afraid to stand up for herself. Before her Embrace she worked at her father's corporation and was tired of everyone treating her as a pretty face and thinking she only got the job because the CEO was her dad when she worked her ass off to be good at her job. She was also desperately trying to find something exciting in her life as working in a office 9-5 job among people who were only talking about their families or work was not her idea of a fulfilling life. She missed her younger years when she used to give her parents a lot of troubles when she sneaked up late in the night to party hard, snort a bit a coke and have fun with dudes older than her... I guess that is why Chester does it for her, he might be a lot uglier than what she was used to, but he's not treating her like she was made of China porcelain, also she is honestly laughing at his stupid, often offensive jokes...

Their relationship first started as just a way for her to forget for a moment about the shit she got herself into by doing something she enjoyed. But after a while she started to feel like she actually cares for him and unlike most of my other characters she expressed it to him, and Chester being a coward that he is bolted out on her immediately with his pants barely on as they were in the middle of the thing :D :D

It took him a few days to face her again and she was ready for him mocking her about her feelings, because she thought he didn't feel the same... To her surprise, after getting unreasonably angry at her not being able to shut up and let him speak, he apologized for leaving like that and actually admitted having feelings for her too, mentioning that he was never a good man and to consider if that was what she really wanted.

She made it clear to him that she wasn't a good girl either and pulled him in for a kiss ''I love you dumb, ugly asshole and I just thought you should know'' They made up and were officially together since that night making the only official nossie couple in the SF sewers XD

Some of the Nossies rolled eyes at them being all over each other all the time XD Mirabelle couldn't understand why such a smart girl would waste her time with that drunk idiot. But honestly Mirabelle didn’t think much of any man beside Lazarus (her Sire/the Primogen).

Theodor (Chester’s & Maddy’S Sire) was making creepy, inappropriate jokes and Maddy sincerely hoped he was not secretly watching them make out Spoiler: he sometimes was.

It was fun while it lasted. But after a few months Chester realized that she was out of his league, his man-pride/ego could not handle the fact that she was clearly better educated, smarter and more capable than him in many things.. It didn't matter to her at all, but for him it was too much to handle.

The other reason that led him to break up with her was that she tried to push him into trying to help his daughter Jamie, who was his/his Sire's ghoul living in the sewers with the Nosferatu for the majority of her life. He hated that this discussion always made him feel guilty, he was aware of how shitty father he was and he didn’t need her to remind him that.

He didn't want Maddy to find out that he was a coward who was afraid of Theodor and what he would do to him, Maddy or Jamie if Chester tried to free Jamie. She was a ghoul for a very long time, so even if he did help her and did not give her Vitae, her age would soon catch up with her... She wouldn’t know how to function in the world outside. There was nothing he could do for her, or at least he made a lot of excuses for himself to not even try.

So yeah, Chester chose to dump Maddy for both, his selfish reasons and also to keep her away from putting herself in danger while trying to make a better person out of him.

Their break up was quite messy, he said some nasty things to her to make his point clear and she said some stuff that she didn't really mean, because she couldn't believe he was really dumping her. She didn't know his real reasons,only the shitty ones he made up which hurt her deeply. They called each other names a lot during their relationship, but it was more in a teasing, joking kind of way, she couldn’t believe he would seriously thinking about her like that.

Maddy was not a person who would cry after a break up, she was more angry at him than sad. But after their break up Maddy often found herself thinking about just asking him for sex, because it's not that she could just quickly find someone who would be willing to do her and not that there was many options anyway XD (Theodor doesn't counts, he is just BIG NO) but then she always remembered that she had pride and so she never followed up with her desire to.

Now they barely talk. They basically only talk to each other when it is about something concerning a 'work task' or something general around the presence of others of their clan. Despite pretending things between them are over, they feel something for each other, which sometimes makes it hard for them to be around each other, which leads both of them often making snappy remarks at each other to cover the fact seeing each other makes them uncomfortable. They are both quite good at acting indifferent, so they both think the other one doesn’t think about the other anymore XD

#my art #doloresdrawsocs #oc Chester #oc Maddy #clan nosferatu #VTM #VTR #vampire the requiem #vampire the masquerade #nossie #digital painting #vamily #nwod #World Of Darkness #wod #chronicles of darkness

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blu-eh · 4 years ago

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after school summons

[AO3]

or: Danny gets summoned. He doesn’t like it.

It starts with a tugging feeling in his very core.

Danny Fenton pauses. If there’s one thing he’s learned in the last year, it is not to ignore random things that are definitely ghostly in origin. He has just enough time to place his pencil on the desk from where he had dutifully been doing his homework—for the first time in two weeks, mind you—before his vision goes white, he hears a snap, and suddenly he’s not in his room anymore.

For a moment he’s weightless, lost in the feeling of falling. Then, his body jerks and he has just enough time to think, oh fuck—before he’s slammed to the ground hard. His knees buckle under the unexpected weight and he goes down, clumsily, and trying not to throw up what little he’d managed to eat between homework packets.

“Ow,” Danny says.

He lies there, just for a moment, taking in the cool concrete underneath him. He tries to steady his breathing just enough so his mind can process what the hell just happened in the last thirty seconds. He’s still blinking stars from his eyes when he hears the hushed whispers echo around him and a heavy pair of footsteps approaching him. All in all, very bad signs when mysterious (and somewhat painful) things happen to you suddenly.

A gruff, questioning voice asks, “A child?”

“Oh, man,” Danny says, because that definitely does not sound good. Then he forces himself to his knees and looks up.

The first and foremost thing Danny notices is that he’s not alone. He’s on some sort of altar or platform, elevated a foot or so above the ground. A couple feet away, a group of no more than a dozen people surround him in a semi-circle, faces all covered by tattered cloaks. Another cloaked figure, dressed in much more formal robes with gold trimming, stands on the platform a mere couple feet from where Danny is. They all seem to be staring at him, waiting.

Danny hastily gets to his feet. He shifts a little into a sloppy fighting stance, just in case things were to get messy.

The dimly-lit warehouse room and the head covers don’t give him much to work with in the facial feature department, but he’s pretty confident that none of them are ghosts. Mostly from the fact that none of them are glowing and/or ranting about how much of a pain in the ass he is, but it still pays to be wary. Especially when Danny’s situations tend to quickly dissolve from bad to oh my god there are ghosts lose in Amity Park and also he maybe-sort of-possibly died in the process.

Which brings him back to his next brilliant deduction; he’s definitely in ghost form. He definitely was not in ghost form before this. His ghost form is rather obvious considering he sticks out like a glow stick in darkness of the warehouse. He doesn’t even feel the need to check his hair color, this time, but that’s more due to the fact that he doesn’t want to take his eyes off the weird people who managed to summon him from his bedroom and forced him to change into his ghost form.

(He desperately hopes that they hadn’t seen him change—weird warehouse people are not people that Danny generally associates with secret keeping.)

“Is this a cult thing?” Danny asks before any of them can speak. He takes in white line that surrounds him, and the red liquid (which he very much hopes is not blood) used to paint runes and symbols that circle him, and their weird cloak-like robes, and says, “This is definitely a cult thing. Oh my god, did you summon me? Seriously—”

Before this, he hadn't even known he could be summoned. It's just the little ghostly things learned via accident, sometimes, that truly take the icing on the cake.

There’s a tiny spark of anxiety in his gut, but honestly there’s a large difference between humans threatening him and ghosts threatening him. On one hand, he’d take weird cultist over Skulker’s lair any day. On the other hand, pure white walls and experimentation tables aren’t super high on his to visit list either. Worst comes to worst—before they sacrifice him to some ancient gods, more likely—he puts on his scary face (and maybe adds a couple of explosions) and slips out before they even notice he’s missing.

“Silence, creature,” the robed man snaps. Danny zeros in on him and immediately deduces him to be leader from vibes alone. Also the gold trimming on his robe, which very much screams leader of weird cult that summons ghost kids.

“I—okay, you know what? That was just rude,” Danny says. He points to the white line that surrounds him, “Is that cocaine?”

Danny has a feeling he doesn’t want to know the answer to the mysterious red liquid and painted symbols, so he doesn’t ask.

“It’s salt,” one of the other cloaked figures answers, like it should be obvious.

(It’s not actually obvious, and actually leaves Danny with more questions than he started with. Mostly in the realm of how did a group of cultists summon him with salt. He knows salt is supposedly an anti-ghost measure, but Danny is pretty convinced it has little to no effect on him considering the amount of Nasty Burger fries he’s consumed haven’t taken him out yet.)

“Salt,” Danny repeats. He pauses, then awkwardly tags on, “That’s good, I guess, because drugs are bad. Uh, don’t do drugs.”

A cultist quietly, and a little slowly, answers back, “We, uh, don’t.”

“Right,” Danny says. His eyes catch another section of weird in this already weird, cultist warehouse. At the base of the platform sits a variety of bones, so fresh that some of the muscle still clings to them. “Are those bones? Oh my god, did you sacrifice someone? That’s not cool! Murder isn’t cool!”

“Those are goat bones,” another follower says.

“Oh,” Danny says. “Well, I mean, that’s still fucked up on a variety of levels, but I guess that’s better than murder. Unless it's considered goat murder? Uh.”

For a second, there’s silence. The nature of the interaction is so awkward and oppressing that he almost goes invisible just to save himself the scrutiny of these random people and get the hell out of dodge. His curiosity is the only thing that holds him back—that, and the fact that he’s not quite sure if any of these people are secretly hiding ecto-weapons.

Danny very much does not want to be shot tonight.

He looks around the room, eyes taking in every inch of the sparsely decorated warehouse. There’s nothing that immediately grabs his attention, nor anything that really screams danger but it pays to be suspicious of his surroundings in his line of work. A few of the cultists notice this, and start shifting awkwardly as Danny looks over them as well.

Then, Danny’s eyes flicks back to the lead cultist and he says, “I’m going to be real honest here and say that I have no idea what the heck is going on.”

The leader makes no inclination that he acknowledges any word that comes from Danny’s mouth. Instead, he brings an old, wrinkled hand up to his face, like he’s thinking about some complex problem. The leader circles Danny once, then again, and Danny feels something inside him defensively coil like a spring.

He tries not to be bothered when people treat him as something lesser—it’s not, exactly, uncommon for him to encounter. He dealt with being shoved into lockers long before he died, anyways. It doesn’t stop his shoulders from tensing just the barest amount.

Instead of showing this, he brings his feet up to his chest and crosses them mid-air, and fakes a yawn for good measure. A few of the other cultists gasp in wonder and fear. The leader simply stops his prowling and turns to face Danny.

“So this is the fabled Ghost King,” the man says, like he expected better.

Danny feels he should almost be offended if it isn’t for the tiny detail that these cultists—who summoned him by using salt and goat bones—assume he is the ghost king. “…Did you seriously confuse me with Pariah Dark?”

The man pauses, and asks, “Pariah Dark?”

“Yes! He’s like fifteen feet tall, has a huge sword, is a pain in the ass, and has, like, an entire ghost army. I have, I dunno, pre-calc homework in my bag. We are not the same.”

Some of the followers in the background shift uneasily. Danny bares his teeth in their direction, just to see them squirm. A couple take worried steps back and Danny fights off a satisfied grin.

Hey, poke a bull and get the horns. In this case, summon a ghost-teenager and get the ecto-powers.

(He’s slowly becoming more and more aware that these people have no idea what they’re doing.)

“I see,” the leader says. From his tone, he definitely does not see. “It doesn’t matter. Our book summoned the King of Ghosts and that is you, so you will do as we tell you and your pain will be lessened.”

“I am still not the Ghost King,” Danny tells him. “And no thanks. I’ve already used my yearly cult sign up and I can’t say I’m thrilled to join another. If you’re going to hold an initiation ceremony, at least decorate a bit first. Uh, not counting the goat bones and salt, of course.”

“You have no choice,” the leader snaps and steps a bit closer to him. Danny merely raises an eyebrow. “We are the Followers of Infernal. We have summoned you to serve us. You are bound to our will and bound to our grace, as the book foretold. Now bow, demon, for we are your new masters.”

There’s a very large portion of Danny Fenton that is convinced any good karma he held in life did not pass with him during his death a mere year ago. An even larger portion of him is convinced that these guys are no more serious than the GIW is. Danny does not tell the cultists this.

Instead, he squints and says, “Alright. I definitely failed US Government, but I’m pretty sure that’s not legal. Don’t you guys need like, a permit to summon undead beings of mass power?”

“It thinks it’s funny.” The leader’s face is mostly hidden by his robe, but Danny can imagine the sneer there from his tone alone.

“Trust me, I’m not the one who’s a joke right now,” Danny says. He looks back over at the dozen or so followers and grins at them. They don’t seem too keen that he’s not following their master’s orders and bending to their will. He turns back to the leader. “What’s in it for me?”

“What?”

“If I follow you and stuff, what’s in it for me?”

The leader pauses, then says, “You will be spared of punishment.”

“Hmm, that’s not good enough,” Danny says. He angles his body so he's once again looking at the followers and points at one in the middle. “Hey, you! With the cloak. No, not you, the other dude. To the left. Yeah! You. What do you have to offer me?”

The follower looks so startled that he cowers for a second. Then, seeing as he hadn’t been reduced to a pile of ashes from Danny’s gaze alone, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small and silver. “Uh, I have a paper clip, your ghostliness.”

“A paper clip,” Danny repeats. “Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever. That sounds neat.”

“You’ll submit to us?” the man sounds so hopeful that Danny almost feels bad for being a jerk. Then, he remembers that they summoned him out of his nice, warm bedroom at ass-o’clock in the night and feels significantly less amounts of pity.

“No, dude, I’m not being your sack of potatoes for a paper clip. Man, you guys are stupid.” Danny rolls his eyes and floats just a bit higher. The other followers shuffle around again, uncomfortable. In front of him, the leader remains impassive as ever. “Where even am I?”

“The lair which you will spend the rest of your afterlife,” the leader says.

“Okay, this is definitely a warehouse, firstly. And secondly, dude, I meant what state.”

“…Wisconsin,” the man allows because of course everything terrible happens in Wisconsin.

“You chose the worst state to have your crappy lair,” Danny tells them. Now he has to fly a couple hundred miles home and hope he gets there by morning, all the while avoiding his creepy, obsessed arch-nemesis. He wonders if Vlad is even aware there’s a ghost-obsessed cult in his home state. Probably not. “Nothing good ever comes from Wisconsin. You can take that as, like, ghostly wisdom or something.”

“Hey,” one of the cultists says, offended. “The Packers are in Wisconsin.”

“Nothing good,” Danny repeats, firmly.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the leader says. “It’s trying to distract you because it fears control. Briar, bring me the orb.”

“Yes, sir,” one of them says.

The followers mutter to themselves and teeter around in their positions. The woman who spoke, on the end, bows and scurries off. Danny watches as she runs through the darkness of the warehouse, footsteps echoing around them, until he can no longer see her among the darkness.

“Hey, if they already listen to you then why do you need me?” Danny asks. The leader doesn’t answer, so Danny floats a bit on his side and puts his arms behind his head. “What kind of orb are we talking about, anyways? Like one of those Spirit Halloween ones? Or is it more like orbeeze? I can’t saw I’m super excited from your ominous it fears control statement, but—"

“Silence, beast,” the leader says.

Danny huffs. “I’m just asking. No need to be so snippy.”

The man ignores him which, rude. Danny’s just about to see how far he can test this guy’s patience when Briar comes back, just as quickly as she had disappeared. She jogs through the warehouse and up the steps of the platform. Danny can’t see her face, but from the way her hood moves to glace at him every so often, he figures that she’s probably nervous. Specifically about him lounging around in a circle full of salt.

“Father Johnathan,” Briar says and bows. In her hands is a glowing, silver orb. It really did look like a generic orb one would find in a Spirit Halloween. “The orb.”

“Your name is Father Johnathan?” Danny asks. He eyes the orb for a second, but doesn’t feel the tingle of ghostly energy from it, so he ignores it. He turns right back to the leader, not able to keep the grin off his face. “Your name is really Father Johnathan?”

Father Johnathan gently takes the orb in his hands as Briar scurries off towards the rest of the followers. Then, he sighs and says, “Yes, creature, my name is Father Johnathan and I shall be your new master.”

“Oh my god,” Danny says, positively gleeful. “I meet real life Papa John and he summons me with salt and threatens me with a Spirit Halloween orb.”

“Laugh all you want,” Papa John says. The nervous air shifts into something a bit more predatory. “You will not be laughing much longer.”

The cultists break into applause and talk amongst themselves loudly. They shift forward, eagerly, as if they want to watch the spectacle up close. They’re only a foot or so away from the platform when Papa John waves at them to halt.

Papa John holds up the orb. It swirls, the silver fog inside consolidating and then dissipating. Something inside it starts to glow the barest amount.

Danny pauses, just for a second, and watches it. There's still no tingle of ghostly energy coming from it. If he hadn’t already thought these guys are a joke, he definitely would’ve been a tad more nervous. As it stands, he thinks nothing of it—no ghostly energy means no control over ghosts.

(Unfortunately, he knows the feeling of ghost-controlling objects quite well. It’s not an experience he’s eager to repeat.)

The orb glows brighter, and brighter, swirling more furiously. The chatter of the cultists picks up to the point where they’re almost shouting, jeering at him. Papa John draws closer and closer, orb outstretched. He holds it through the salt line and touches it to Danny’s chest. The shouting from his followers almost becomes unbearable.

And then….nothing. The orb stops glowing. The fog inside stops swirling. It simply dies in Papa John’s hand.

“Was that supposed to do something?” Danny asks.

Papa John touches him with the orb again, a tad more forceful, so Danny assumes it was supposed to do something. From the panicked whispers around him, it definitely was supposed to do something to him. Danny’s honestly not sure if the outcome is due to him being a halfa or these guys being a joke.

(He’s willing to bet it’s the latter.)

“I think your LED batteries died,” Danny tells him. “Or maybe you mixed up your Spirit Halloween orbs. Better luck next time.”

Papa John stops furiously pressing the orb to his chest and if Danny could see his face, he has no doubts that Papa John’s expression would be livid.

“You will obey us,” Papa John says.

“No,” Danny says. “I won’t.”

“You will—”

Danny swings his feet down so hard that he cracks the very ground he now stands on. Dust kicks up around him as he stands tall, even though Danny’s at least two feet shorter than the leader in front of him. His eyes burn a brilliant green and he crosses his hands over his chest in an effort to look intimidating. The cult thing is interesting and all, but it's late, he still has homework to do, and Jazz has definitely noticed him missing by now so it's probably better to end this before they can get another object from a Spirit Halloween and try that instead.

It works, if the half-step back from Papa John is anything to go by.

“Listen,” Danny says, flatly. “Get a hobby and leave me alone or else you won’t like what I’m going to do.”

He makes his form flicker and the temperature drop in the room, just for dramatic effect.

Some of the followers in the background shift uneasily. A couple take panicked steps back. More than a few look ready to bolt for the door and leave this cult business behind forever.

Danny takes notice and stares at them, smiling wide enough that they could see his slightly-toothy grin. He makes sure his eyes flare, just a touch, and says loudly, “Boo.”

To say the cultists are startled would be an understatement. More than a few stumble back, a couple falling onto their asses. One trips on their robe and is sent tumbling. Another one yells and cowers. Papa John has no time to reign in the situation before two scatter completely.

“Peace!” Papa John shouts over the chaos of a dozen panicking followers. Those that remain do settle down enough to hear his words. “Stand down, there is nothing to fear. It is only trying to scare you into letting it free. It is trapped whilst it remains in the circle.”

Danny snorts. “I can leave any time I want.”

“You cannot leave here, demon—”

Danny raises one single eyebrow and dutifully steps out of the summoning circle.

The warehouse erupts into chaos.

The cultists are yelling now, but this time there’s only because of fear. They scatter over each other, running and tripping over their obnoxiously long cloaks. A couple trample the goat bones to the point where several loud snaps are heard over the pandemonium. It only adds more fuel to the fire as less than a dozen people scramble to get as far away from the platform—and subsequently the ghost-kid—as possible.

“Do better than a paperclip, next time!” Danny calls out to them. They only seem to run faster at the sound of his voice.

Papa John is the only one who doesn’t run. He had stumbled off the platform and away from Danny the second that Danny made it over the salt line. However, in the disarray, he had been knocked to the ground, his orb lay broken at his feet, and his robe’s hood had been yanked off and left on the ground beside him. He sits, frozen, but Danny doesn’t know if it’s from shock or from fear.

Danny takes a step closer to him.

“How…?” Papa John whispers. He’s not looking at Danny—only his old, wrinkled hands. He’s bald, with brown eyes. He looks like nothing more than any generic old man that Danny would see at a grocery store on Sunday afternoon. “We followed the book. We…we took every precaution the book said. We were supposed to have the perfect slave, bound to our every word. We…”

“That didn’t work out too well for you, huh?” Danny says and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s ‘cause you forgot the dunce cap when you decided to be the class clown.”

“Please,” Papa John says. “Spare me.”

There’s something wrong about this—seeing a human beg for his life at Danny’s feet. Danny doesn’t want to be feared. He never has wanted to be feared.

He presses his lips together and takes a single step back. Some part of him, though, knows that he desperately needs to make his point clear to avoid another situation like this (likely with more weapons, next time).

“I warned you,” Danny says softly. His voice echoes around the warehouse. The man below him shivers in terror. “Do not summon me again, or I won’t be so nice next time.” He pauses, just for a second and can't help but tag on, "Papa John."

He lets his threat linger and hopes the man takes it seriously enough that he won’t get summoned again. Then, the cool strings of invisibility wrap around his body and he disappears from sight. Danny takes one look at the man left on the floor before he shakes his head and shoots up into the Wisconsin night sky. He doesn't hear the shouted response of it's Father Johnathan from several hundred feet below him on the warehouse floor.

Danny waits about all of thirty seconds before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

"Jazz? Hey, yeah, I'm fine. Yes, seriously, I'm fine but you are not going to believe what I just went through—"

#me mentioning my love for spirit halloween no less than five separate occasions #anyways #my fics #danny phantom #i Attempted to mention every single ectober week 2020 in this fic so like. lmao #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week #ectober week 2020 #phan phic #phic #tw drug mention #there are no actual drugs but i do reference a drug by name so this warning applies

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