#Thank you for indulging in my insanity for prompts yet again!!!

[solar-nightengale]

PROTECTIVE PROMPTS HAND ON THE OTHER'S SHOULDER WITH THE BETROTHED FOOLS PLEASE AND THANK YOU 💖💖💖💖💖

DKJLHKPCTIXR HELLO!!! ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! 🥰🥰💖💖💖 This ended up being a little snippet taking place in the past pre-Enchanté insanity so :) Have at that ehhehe Betrothed fools are still just the dating idiots here 😌 <3333

~ I GOT YOU ~ PROTECTIVE PROMPTS

4. putting a hand on the other's shoulder to show their support

Flick, flick, flick went the knife over the wood he was working into, chippings dropping onto the table around him. The sun had gone down hours ago, he knew that, but despite the headache starting to form behind his eyes, he refused to pull away from the head he was working on. The idea had struck him maybe hours ago and he had almost instantly gotten to work on it the second it did. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, the clocks above reminded him. Each passing tick was another passed second to reaching his deadline. And gods he had never wished more than right now to have the same speed and skill of his father. There was so little time left, what would he do to be able to build a puppet in as short a time frame as Geppetto once had to build an entire wardrobe?

He heard the door open, biting back a curse as he realised just how late it was if he was still up when Lampwick had come back home. His boyfriend had decided to stay the week, which came with its own set of rules. Those being Dies Solis night is the night he’d be playing cards with Eugene and Arlekin. And if he was back from that… then there’s no telling how late it truly was.

He heard a stumble before the door closed, the lock clicking soon after. “Still going at it, huh?” Lampwick’s words were spoken clearly, the steps he took unfaltering and stable. Pinocchio frowned.

For once he wasn’t drunk? That had to be a new record for him.

Pinocchio’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve almost-” the head slipped out of his grip, the woodcarver instinctively letting go of the knife in the process as both clattered to the floor. “Shit.” He dropped down and grabbed the knife, the puppet part rolling and getting stopped by Lampwick’s foot. The redhead huffed.

“Maybe now’s a good time to wrap up for the night.” Lampwick suggested as he picked the unfinished head up.

“I can’t,” Pinocchio sighed. He reached out to take the head back, only for his boyfriend to lift it high above his head. Pinocchio grunted as he jumped up, but Lampwick held it just out of his reach. “Lampwick!”

“Can’t what, baby? Reach that high?” the cheek teased as he dangled the carving, grinning widely as he straightened up even more out of reach of the woodcarver. “Use those tip-toes you love to bring out when trying to kiss me.”

“Lampwick I really don’t have time for this.” Pinocchio exclaimed as he grabbed for the older man’s sleeve and tried to pull it down.

“Why not?” Lampwick barely budged under the brunette’s relentless attempts to bring his arm down. “What? Can’t ya continue tomorrow?”

“No!” Pinocchio paused, “Maybe?” Another pause before he started up. “I have a- a council meeting tomorrow you know that! And I promised my patron that I’d have this done by Dies Mercurii and I’m not even close to being done. I’ve three days! Less than that even!”

The red-head blew a raspberry. “Well personally I think you’d get it done much better and faster if you got some sleep.”

“Now is not the time for that.”

“You’ve been working on it all day-”

“And I’ll work on it all night if I have to.”

“Pinocchio.” Gone was the teasing grin now replaced with a frown.

His arm growing lax was all the opening Pinocchio needed to finally pull the man’s arm down and snatch back the carving, turning back to the workbench and continue. He could feel his boyfriend’s breath on his shoulder, Pinocchio trying hard not to ignore Lampwick as he worked to concentrate on the chisel he was holding to the puppet’s head. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” he heard him ask, Pinocchio’s eyes narrowing on the single spot he was trying to carve out. He noticed his hand shake as he pressed the knife a little more against the wood.“Spit it out, aye? What’s bugging ya?”

“Nothing,” was the swift answer Pinocchio gave.

“For someone that’s known for his lies you’re sure bad at them.” Pinocchio watched Lampwick grimace as he shot him a glare, hearing the quiet apology from him. “Who’s the patron?”

Pinocchio sighed, laying the objects onto the table. “The Princess. And her son.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’. She commissioned the puppet for entertainment on Henry’s fourth birthday. I said I’d get it done but ended up taking too long on simply thinking it up. And with the meeting tomorrow…” The woodcarver groaned as he dragged a hand down his face. He could feel his eyelids drooping, wanting nothing more than to close them right there and then and sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet… “I know she’s going to ask about it and I don’t have a good answer to give.”

“Just’ tell her the truth.” Lampwick shrugged.

“Right! And disappoint the princess.”

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed. “So, what? You’re gonna lie? What’ll happen if you don’ got it done then?”

“That’s not going to happen. Because what I’m going to do, is get most of it done tonight, hopefully survive the meeting and then work until the sun rises in two days, praying that the gods are merciful and let me finish it by the time it’s due,” Pinocchio explained with a huff dripping of sarcasm, as he picked his tool up from the bench he was leaning against.

“That’s unreasonable.”

“Says you,” the woodcarver retorted.

“Pinocchio.” He heard a frustrated groan, pulling his hand back with a glare when Lampwick reached out for his hand. Lampwick’s hand wavered in mid-air before he opened his palm up, inviting the other to place the tool on it. The woodcarver gripped the knife tightly as he pouted up at him, seeing the gentle worry staring back. “You already looked like you haven’t slept properly in days, give yourself a break.” the red-head explained, Pinocchio’s stomach dropping at the concern.

He hated worrying him like this. Whether he knew it or not, Lampwick’s concern was one of the many things that hurt him beyond measure. It was a rarity to see, but a stab to the heart regardless. “I can’t.”

“You can. And you should. Doll, I don’t think you’re going to get a whole lot done like this. Even in the time frame you got.”

The mention of the time frame had Pinocchio’s shoulders sagging further. He had plenty of time to complete this really. In fact by now, if he had started when he should have, he’d be up and polishing the doll off, not just barely getting started on it.

“I shouldn’t have left it for so long.” He murmured, his chest suddenly aching. Gods he really fucked it up this time around. For once in his life Emma had requested something and he was about to let her down. The chances were, she’d never rely on his work ever again!

Well ‘never’ sounded unreasonable for the kind-hearted princess. But he was sure she wouldn’t have that much in him keeping up another urgent deadline like this.

“Well no use mourning tipped over cows.” he heard his partner state, the spiral in his mind grinding to a halt.

Pinocchio frowned, arching his brows up as he asked: “Do you mean crying over spilt milk?”

The red-head paused, before waving his hand dismissively.

“Irrelevant! And my point stands. Look, if it helps I can go in place of ya to that meeting. Give you more time to not only sleep but also work on this. I’ll jus’ tell the princess you couldn’t make it t’day and that’ll be that.”

“You hate going to those.” Pinocchio pointed out.

“I never said that.”

“Your words were, and I quote: ‘If you wake me up before the sun peaks I’ll have Iskra hide every saddle in the stable.’,” the woodcarver continued, Lampwick only shrugging in response.

“So be it! Just this once you can drag me out of bed and I won’t complain.” he explained with a confident smirk.

Pinocchio could only scoff in disbelief, turning back to the puppet he was working on. Right, and tomorrow morning he’d say something entirely different. And most likely go back on his word. If not sleep in entirely and then they were both in scalding hot water. It happened once before, and the look the queen had given them back then was one he’d remember for years to come.

They were younger back then but Pinocchio was no longer young nor as stupid to make such a mistake again.

…But then again Lampwick wasn’t as young like he was back then too. He had shown up at the last meeting, yet…

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up and seeing that strange gentleness on the man once more.

“Look, Emma’s not gonna fire you or burn your workshop down if the puppet is not on par with dwarven diamond quality. But if that’s what you wanna achieve, she won’ get mad about you missing one meeting given the reason for it. She’ll understand. An’ if-” he jumped in before the man could start talking again, “-An’ if someone has a problem wit’ it then that’s not your business either. She ain’t stepping through those doors if I’ve a say in the matter. Iskra’ll be right outside ready to make her fuck off if she tries.”

“You’re really going to have her attack the princess.” Pinocchio deadpanned, watching Lampwick’s grin widen.

“I’m not talking about the princess in this situation. B’sides, I���m sure the princess in particular be more concerned that you’re working yourself thin than anything else.” the red-head explained.

Pinocchio sighed, looking down at the still unfinished puppet and hung his head. “I don’t know…”

“It’ll be fine love.” Lampwick squeezed his shoulder. “I promise ya.”

It was tempting… he had to admit that despite the risks it was tempting. He cursed whichever god managed to make near every word the taller man say ten times more enticing than it should have been.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, watching the man’s grin only widen.

“As sure as I am about the sun rising with me in the morning.” he promised, his hand moving from his shoulder to his lower back, Pinocchio simply letting him pull him away from the work bench. “Now come on, before you faint on me and force me to carry you around.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be tragic for you do to for once.” the woodcarver joked, but still allowed the other to take the tools away, leading him away from the dread just for the night.

[diamonddaze01]

⋆｡°✩ n o t e : thank you to everyone who tagged me in this ( @sungbeam , @petrichor-han , @haologram)! took me forever to finally get around to it, but excited to share my wrapped for this year!

⋆｡°✩ on poetry and homecomings - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first ever fic! based on a quote by the fantastic palestinian poet mahmoud darwish. something about the words, "If I ever see a flaw of yours, I'd say my eyes are the flawed ones" made something in my heart twinge in the most beautiful way. a purely self indulgent fic i wrote after an exhausting work week, and suddenly, here we are, 3 months later.

⋆｡°✩ plan b-day - hong jisoo

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my last fic of 2024! a lil drabble for the loveliest boy. no real notes on this, other than i am sure that murphy's law somehow targets me 50000x more than the average human being. again, purely self-indulgent, but also a wonderful way to close out the year.

⋆｡°✩ baby, darling, light of my entire life - choi seungcheol

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : the idea for this came to me after a crazy night out. though i myself have not gotten to this level of drunk yet, i definitely would scream about how pretty choi seungcheol is any day, any time. i was actually shocked when this blew up - it wasn't my favorite piece i'd written at the time, and i woke up one morning and it had skyrocketed from maybe 100 notes to upwards of 600 in one night. weirdly, i think this was maybe the third thing i had ever posted to this blog and it made me so happy that people actually enjoyed my writing. bdlomel, ily <3

⋆｡°✩ full throttle part i | full throttle part ii - yoon jeonghan

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : oh, full throttle, what to say about you (i am combining both parts into one fic - the only reason there are two parts is bc tumblr is a bitch about formatting). there are few things that exhausted me, exhilerated me, enraged me, and made me feel as proud as i do looking at this finished fic. three weeks of non-stop writing every day after work, jotting down notes in the cleanroom and during lunch breaks, and storyboarding when i should have been sleeping culminated in most possibly the pièce de résistance of my year. i had so many people who cheered me on as i wrote this fic, battled through witty banter (that i myself could never say irl) and fiery headlines, but none cheered as loudly as @haologram and @ylangelegy. alta and kae were genuinely the wind beneath my wings as i wrote this, and reading their comments in the doc was what kept me going. in the end, i'm genuinely so happy with how full throttle turned out, and seeing the reactions i'm getting from it make me feel so fulfilled.

⋆｡°✩ the somerset affair - lee seokmin

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : my first forray into longer fic writing (and i'm still battling my way through it, but we don't talk about that). if anyone knows me, they know how much of a Bridgerton fan i am - i quote anthony's speech on the daily, and penelope/eloise are some of my fav romcom heroines ever written (until they both get married, but again, we don't talk about that). i felt like writing this fic was my way to pay homage to this fictional world i adore so much. i have a love/hate relationship with the actual tone of the series - its so hard to maintain the regency tone and also write in a way that's true to my own voice, but at the end of the day it's a challenge i relish. i'm so excited to finish this series this coming year!

⋆｡°✩ 40 fics posted - check them all out in my masterlist!

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : to be fair, a lot of these are drabbles i did for my 101 drabble prompt game, but fuck it we ball. maybe i'm just insane.

⋆｡°✩ ~133,470 words written

⋆｡°✩ n o t e s : again, i think i might be a bit insane. did a sacrifice sleep to write? yes. did i storyboard at work? also yes. but then again, it's been an interesting year to say the least, and writing was a really good way to blow off steam after a stressful day at work.

⋆｡°✩ some of my fav fics i read this year - please read the warnings on each fic and do not interact with smut if you're a minor! this is in no particular order:

⋆｡°✩ unforgiven [boo seungkwan] - @haologram ⋆｡°✩ catch you when i can [smau] [chwe hansol] - @xinganhao ⋆｡°✩ the first snow [hong jisoo] - @junkissed ⋆｡°✩ what are the vibes? [choi seungcheol] - @daechwitatamic ⋆｡°✩ red card [kim mingyu] - @highvern ⋆｡°✩ an ode to hands and voice [boo seungkwan] - @ddeonghwa-s ⋆｡°✩ take my word for it [yoon jeonghan] - @ylangelegy ⋆｡°✩ prey [choi seungcheol] - @pochaccoups ⋆｡°✩ sit down [kim mingyu] - @gyuswhore ⋆｡°✩ ave, general [lee jihoon] - @amourcheol

these are just a few of my fav fics i've read, but if you want to see all my recommendations - i suggest checking out @diamond-reads !

⋆｡°✩ goals for 2025

⋆｡°✩ on diamonddaze01: i have a lot of collabs coming up in 2025! i hope that i can meet all those deadlines and write things i'm proud of. i've also learned that writing longer fics like full throttle or somerset affair make me feel more fulfilled as a writer, so expect a lot more of them as i further explore my writing style and characterization. i also want to go back to some of my older wips that i abandoned and reopen them, see where i can go with a fresh mindset. ⋆｡°✩ personal goals: i have a lot, but to name a few: read more, laugh more, love more. i also want to focus on establishing a better work/life balance - i know already that the coming months are going to suck at work, but i no longer want to drag the weight of corporate life home with me. work is work, and that's where it will stay. i want to prioritize my mental and physical well-being over all else, and that starts with reprioritizing things like work, my social life, and writing.

⋆｡°✩ final thoughts

⋆｡°✩ i started writing on tumblr because i was stressed from work and felt like i didn't have a community, especially at a new job and a new city. what started as some stress relief turned into a community of its own. i'm eternally grateful that i was able to meet some wonderful people this year that i truly feel a sense of belonging with. to everyone in the networks i'm in, to anyone that reads my work, to all the lovely people i've met: thank you, and i love you.

⋆｡°✩ if you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and thank you for all your support. i love you all endlessly. it's time to sign off for 2024.

with love as vast as the stars themselves, tara <3

⋆｡°✩ tagging (but no pressure): @tusswrites, @chanranghaeys, @bitchlessdino, @ddeonghwa-s , @c-oupsie, @lovetaroandtaemin, and anyone else who would like to do this!

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

WIP Ask Game what is "self indulgent flash"?

(I too have a constantly expanding Wesper AU list 🫣)

Ooh, that is a particular favorite WIP I hope to finish!

On my birthday this year one of the prompts on the Wesper writing group was “the most self indulgent thing you can write.” So I wrote the most indulgent Wesper edging smut fic. Because there needs to be more Wesper edging.

Currently the WIP is 2,000 words of Jesper and Wylan being as kinky and tender as possible while Jesper and I objectifying the fuck out of Wylan.

Here’s a snippet (posted under the cut for naughtiness):

Jesper kisses Wylan and it’s a promise. An oath. A reminder. All soft lips and delicate teasing touches because Jesper knows it’s driving Wylan insane beneath him. Wylan chases his mouth for a properly filthy kiss, but Jesper denies him what he wants most.

He leans over Wylan. Mirth fills Jesper’s eyes as he presses his boyfriend’s hips to the mattress so he can’t rock upward anymore. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it in the first place.

Stilled, Wylan whines. The sound vibrates through his throat high and needy even though they’ve barely begun. But Jesper’s broad hands pin him down, letting him know he’s not going to get the friction he wants.

“Jes,” Wylan begs. And Jesper smiles; that’s an excellent start.

But if Wylan wants to come tonight he’s going to beg much more beautifully. Panting and ruined. Voice high, ragged with need as Jesper’s name drips from his lovely lips. Bracketed by please — not yet, love — please, Jes! Please! — no — I need… Please! Jes, I need — not until I say — and half aborted questions getting caught on his tongue. I want to… Can I — No.

Winding Wylan up and setting him spinning. Adrift with lust, but without any release. It’s been going on for days. And Jesper has to admit, the longer they play this game, the more he likes it.

Because it’s fun to crowd Wylan into the counter while he makes tea. Fun to rub against his ass as Jesper reaches into the cabinet for his own mug, only to set it on the counter and wrap his hands low and suggestively around Wylan’s hips as his boyfriend moans and attempts to finish his task. And it’s even more fun to thank Wylan for the tea, lick the shell of his ear, and whisper that he should go lie down again. Fuck himself on his fingers to the fantasy of Jesper taking him against the kitchen counter until Jesper tells him to come back when his tea has cooled enough to drink. The lovely, frustrated, disappointed groans Wylan makes as he stops touching himself and tangles his fists in the bed sheets until he too has cooled enough to put his trousers on and join Jesper at the table as if he’s not a lit fuse ready to explode.

Jesper takes delight in casually brushing his hand across the seam of Wylan’t pants until he stiffens, as if it wasn’t his intention the entire time.

That’s the game they play. And as frustrated as Wylan gets, he’s more than willing to obey. To deny himself and follow Jesper’s instructions no matter how agonizing. It’s always been his choice to beg and twist and writhe this way under Jesper’s clever hands.

Jesper still hovers over him now. So close and not nearly enough.

“Do you want to come tonight, darling?”

It’s almost impossible to see the ring of color around Wylan’s wide eyes now that they’re dilated with lust. He nods eagerly, hair flopping across the pillow beneath his head. Yes, Wylan wants it more than anything. Need burns in his veins. Jesper can feel the strength of it in Wylan’s grip on his bicep.

“Remember, the only way you’re coming is on my cock. I’m not going to touch you. And you are going to keep your hands to yourself.” Jesper strokes his heated cheek tenderly. “Do you think you can do that?”

It’s the same rules as last night. And the night before that. Possibly tomorrow night too. Until Wylan comes untouched or shouts the one word that ends this whole game.

[webbo0]

1, 10, 11, 20!

Thanks for asking, I usually don't get prompted for these kinds of posts!!

✨ love your fandom asks ✨ 

1. List 3 positive things about your current fandom(s

I love how inclusive and non-toxic the Goose fandom is, and I've met some absolutely wonderful people that I can now call friends because of it!!

Other fandoms: The Dr Who and Good Omena fandoms are wholesome as can be (and most of my other smaller fandoms are usually pretty chill)

10. A blog (mutual or one you follow) that has made your fandom experience brighter

Adding a few because you're all so goddamn cool, but @sandpapersnowman @drivinmeinsane @hollandstrophyhusband @papershipghosts and basically the entire goosecord lol

Special shout-out to sandpapersnowman for catapulting me into madness with all things Ryan and creating our insane beautiful space to be weird together!

11. If you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

Oooh, I'm a new writer but I'm really proud of anything I've actually managed to write including "*Cowboy voice* “I Ain’t Quitting You”", "What happens if i don't like it? It's only-", and my yet to be published self-indulgent Jewish Henry angst fic (it's kinda hard to fully understand if you don't know Hebrew/Judaism but lmk if y'all want to see it 👀)

Art wise, the realistic Luke drawing was really fun to do too!

20. Your very first fandom!

Going all the way back? I was a huge Potterhead (whoops lol) as well as Percy Jackson, but it was Dr. Who that got me to join Tumblr in the first place so that will always have a special place in my heart

Thank you again for the ask!

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

How about some Rigger Donna👀? Headcanons or scene whatever you prefer~ Would the hallucinations play a role when the lovely Lady has her fun? Would they get stronger or change?

I feel like this took wayyy too long for me to write 🤣 But I do hope you guys will enjoy it! Some soft but possessive dominant Donna at your... service 😏  

***

There was a slight hum upon her lips, a simple melody resonating deep within her throat as Donna finished yet another knot against your willing flesh. You had never seen her look so relaxed before - so calculated - with each line of rope meticulously placed with absolute precision. The warm lighting from the fireplace reflecting beautifully off the small patches of skin that resided between them - casting intricate shadows across the length of your body. The doll-maker’s calm movements almost hypnotic as she moved from one section of rope to the other

“Safeword?” 

Her voice was quiet, yet fierce - completely in control.

“Puppet.”

She nodded, “And are you comfortable?”

“Quite, ma’am.” 

It had been almost a month since you had arrived at House Beneviento. Abruptly taken from your spot at the castle to help the quiet doll-maker with the upkeep of her manor. With only a few words shared between you on those first nights, you never would have guessed you’d be in the position that you were in now. Settled on all fours in front of her - legs spread - completely bound, and at her mercy. Tangled elegantly in nothing but rope and the unmistakable feelings that you held for her. 

Donna hummed in response, her long fingers tracing smoothly over the knots that now perfectly decorated your body - tugging on each one as she went down the landscape of you. The tea she had given you earlier slowly beginning to take its effect - soft edges around a world normally sharp as you as the room around you began to blur, washing you in a warm feeling. The wetness between your legs steadily building - your desire for her growing. Desperately longing for her touch - for the dexterous fingers of the one and only Donna Beneviento to grace your eager body with their presence - sweeping across your skin like an answer to every prayer you’ve ever had. 

“I must say, diletta…  you are a vision all wrapped up in pretty black rope.” 

Without even seeing it, you knew there was a deep smirk painted across  her lips. A low chuckle in her throat as she returned to her place behind you - the heat of her proximity instantly rolling over you, warming the exposed parts of your skin. 

“And quite aroused already, I see.” 

You shuddered as she slid a single finger down the front of your core.

“Mmh.. yes, ma’am.”

You felt her breath as she leaned over you, her fingers wrapped firmly in your hair as she gave it a slight tug back. 

“Let’s stick with Mistress for tonight, shall we?”

“Ah-! Y-yes,, Mistress.”

Donna released her grip just as quickly as she had taken it, forcing your head to fall forward with a sight gasp. 

“Sweet mia cara.. always so obedient, hm?” 

You shivered as the tips of her experienced fingers lingered from one patch of skin to the next. Your flesh, supple - plump between your secured restraints - eager beneath her teasing caresses. The soft black velvet of the chaise lounge was comfortable against your hands and knees, holding up your perfectly bound body - keeping it taught. 

“For you, Mistress, always.” 

The doll-maker hummed in response before leaning back. The distinct sound of simple fabric shifting was all you needed to hear to know that this goddess of a woman was slowly dropping to her knees behind you. An image that would send anyone’s mind reeling - that could force a heat in you so profound that you immediately went weak in the knees, feeling your core clench around nothing but the thought of her. You blushed at the sheer vulnerability to it, and her unwavering ability to always surprise you. 

“M-mistress?” 

“Hush, diletta.. Your Mistress wishes to taste you.” 

You whimpered as you pulled against your restraints, your whole body jerking in response. An inherent and profound heat rolling off of her - charging the cool night air between you. It was raw - all inhabiting, incomparable by nature- washing over your body like a warm bath. Electrifying it like a thunderstorm. A whisper of her lips upon your skin as she adjusted herself closer in, The content hum upon her lips telling you that she was likely enjoying the view. 

“You smell divine.”

You blushed fiercely at her praise - every bit of bound flesh engulfed in fluster beneath the soft black rope that so perfectly restrained it. 

“Ah.. Thank you, Mistress.”.

Your breath hitched - stuttering in your throat as the tip of her tongue slid ever so slowly up the center of your core. 

“And do you know what you taste like, mia cara?” 

“Ah-! W-what, Mistress?” 

“Mine.”

Utter possessiveness ringing through the otherwise smooth tones of Donna’s voice as she  forcefully took you into her mouth. A deep moan reverberating through your desire, seeping into your wet folds as she tasted you. Her fingers curling around the ropes that securely bound your hips, using them to hold onto - to force your backside straight back into her eager mouth. A prompt gasp from your lips as she slid the length of her tongue all the way up your entrance and over your clit. The warmth of it licking over every inch of your aching core, leaving no part of you untouched. Tugging firmly on your restraints as she pulled you closer still, thrusting her tongue deep inside of you. 

There wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t completely overcome with some sort of sensation. A rolling heat sweeping across your body -  rivaling the cool air that surrounded it - causing goosebumps across your skin. An internal remnant of warmth - complements of Donna’s special tea - enhancing the world around you and everything within it. The feeling of your tongue tracing over your bottom lip as Donna worked her own into you. The slight bite to it as she found your clit, circling the width of it repeatedly over it until she ripped a cry straight from your lungs. 

“That’s right.. let your Mistress hear you.” 

Her words were indulgent, muffled into your needy flesh before she took your dripping core back into her mouth, deep thrusts as she lengthen her tongue as deep into you as it could go. Warm juices dripping down her chin like the most indulgent of honeys. Her hands firmly on your ropes, holding your body in place as she kept her tongue merciless inside of you. A slight spin to your surroundings as your body became more and more enveloped.. overcome by want.. by need.. by the absolute and unwavering desire that barrel rolled over you like a fever dream. You cried out again, your entire body shaking. 

“Ah-! Please, Mistress.. I want to feel..more of you.”

You whimpered as she paused - seemingly mulling over your request - as if she knew how often your mind wandered to the feeling of her fingers deep inside you as you went about your daily duties. How your core grew wet at just the thought of them against your skin. And how, when you were sure she wasn’t looking, you would watch her dexterous fingers as she worked them long into the midnight hours. But.. of course the wise doll-maker had seen you. Of course she knew. Catching a sharp glint from your eye as you stood quietly by the staircase, making sure not to make a peep. Blushing with each precise movement that her fingers made.

You let out a prompt curse at the feeling of them exactly where you wanted them to be - teasing against your entrance. Your core clenching at the mere proximity of them. Your desire for her now dripping steadily from your core in the absence of her tongue. 

“Is this what you want?” 

She asked the words once before sliding three indulgent fingers deep inside you.

“Mmph! Fuck… yes… thank you, Mistress.” 

Donna hummed quietly as she rose to her feet, leaning over you to give herself full access to the rest of your body. Her fingers still deep inside your core - stationary - filling you deliciously as they teased you. The brush of her lips ghosting over flushed patches of skin, moving eloquently between each one. A sharp inhale as she took your flesh between her teeth, nipping at it in the most delightful of ways, sweeping over it with her tongue. You wondered if you’d ever be given the chance to return the favor - to be allowed the ability to explore her body like a goddess that she was. You whimpered uncontrollably at the thought, at the profound heat that had set so deeply into your body that the entirety of it jerked - moaning as she  slowly slid her fingers out of you only to thrust them firmly back in..

“Tell me who you belong to, diletta.” 

Another thrust of her fingers, the sharpness of her teeth sinking back into your heated flesh.

“Ah-! You, Mistress! I belong to you!” 

She purred against your skin, relishing in the utter control that she had over you.- holding your pleasure in her hands as she drove her fingers harder and harder into you. The addition of a fourth finger immediately sending your mind reeling, forcing a desperate cry from your lips - your center stretching perfectly around her in a most profound heat. The length of her fingers curling deep inside you with each precise thrust that the doll-maker gifted you -  roughly driving them inside you. You moaned.. screamed,.. whined.. begged your Mistress for more. For her to claim you in every way possible - to wholly wreck you. Your desire dripping down your thighs, soaking the soft fabric beneath you at just the thought of it.

“Have I ever told you how much your obedience pleases me? How it makes my core ache in desire for you. 

Fuck.

The word spun through your mind unhindered, sweeping past your conscious thought and straight over your lips. To think that this immaculate being - this insanely gorgeous creature of a woman, with her fingers stuffed as deep inside of you as they could go - was standing there as calm as the water’s edge, with a core just as wet as one. And it was all because if you.

“Mistress.. I…”  

“Mia cara, if you can still speak… then your Mistress must not be doing her job properly.” 

The tone of Donna’s voice internally sparking something primal in you - setting your soul aflame as she began to firmly thrust her fingers inside of you. Her pace relentless, forcing your desire to gush freely from your core. Slicking over her fingers and down your soft skin. A guttural cry - a jerk of your hips - her other hand joining in, circling generously over your clit as her fingers continued to work you mercilessly. Your restraints  taught against your heated flesh as you pulled on them, every inch of you vibrating in desperation..  in an utter and absolute need for release. A supreme heat rolling over you - a tidal wave in nature - engulfing your body in a way that made you positive that the soft rope against your skin would burst into flames at any second. 

“Ah-! Mmp.. . Mistress.. I’m so.. close…”

She thrusted her fingers even firmer inside you, ripping a prompt cry from your lips.

“Then come for me, diletta… show your Mistress just how badly you desire her.” 

You could barely mutter a moan - hitch out a whimper - before the intense feeling took over you. It was all encompassing - a white hot pleasure swiftly spilling over every last cell that your body inhabited. Fireworks blinding behind your eyes as your whole body shook.. shuddered … jerked against the threads of fabric that securely bound you. Warm juices spilling out - dipping all the way down your Mistress’ wrist and almost down to her elbow.. Keeping the pace of her fingers steady until every last whimper was ripped from your breathless lips.

Your body limp against your restraints as you felt another surge from the tea spill over you. Covered deliciously in bite marks and sweat. Shuddering as she slid her fingers out of you - a most exquisite sound dripping from your core.

“You did so well, mia cara.” 

You could feel the world around you beginning to dim as a deep exhaustion started to take hold of you. Donna’s voice sounding incredibly close yet muffled.. more and more distant with each word. You forced your lips to move,  to murmur a soft ‘Thank you, Mistress’  before allowing the profound slumber to take over you - feeling the brush of her lips for just a moment before it swiftly pulled you under.

[firewoodfigs]

Hi!! Could you do "It was a hospital bed, and A slipped in carefully to lie beside B all night" for a Royai fic from that prompt list? Thank you!! ❤️❤️

hello anon!! thanks for the prompt aaaah I had a lot of fun toying with it in between work and the other shenanigans that have been cropping up this week <3 I hope you don't mind the somewhat unusual ending ahaha I dimly recall writing a few other fics indirectly responding to this prompt (here and here!) so I wanted to try something slightly different from my usual fare 👉🏻👈🏻 part of this was also originally from a two-shot I'm working on, tweaked to fit the prompt hehe. I hope you enjoy!!! 🥰

                                       +++++

Riza can think of a million reasons why hospitals are awful.

First, the food. She’s not sure if it’s as nutritious as they make it out to be; there are times when she wonders if it’s even edible. She’s had worse, of course - hospital food isn’t as bad as ration bars - but she’s quickly getting tired of eating plain yoghurt and bland porridge every day, for every single meal.

Second, the stench. Riza hates that every inch of the place smells like a victim of obsessive cleanliness; she has to resist the urge to upchuck every time the door opens and the smell of chemicals and antiseptic filters in like an unwanted guest.

Third, the fact that she’s sharing a room with a man who, at this point, is behaving more like a cat on hot bricks than a disciplined soldier is quickly driving her insane. She’d readily agreed to be his caretaker, of course; Riza doubts there’s anyone else capable of dealing with his antics and ever-growing anxiety. But after hearing him sigh and toss and turn in his bed for the fifty-eighth time that night (she’d counted, because she was bored out of her wits, and there was nothing else she could do other than sleep or stare at the ceiling, per doctor’s orders), Riza decides she’s just about had enough.

She looks at him from her bed. He’s presently engaged with twiddling his thumbs, thinking out loud.

Riza sighs and rises from her bed quietly. She brings the IV stand along with her - an unnecessary inconvenience - and carefully slips into his bed once she’s made sure that the tubes and wires connected to them are tangle-free.

“I never pegged you as an opportunist, Lieutenant,” he murmurs, despite her best efforts to be discreet. “Sleeping with your commanding officer while he’s blind?”

“You could always court martial me later, sir,” Riza deadpans. “Now scoot over.”

Luckily, he obliges without much retort. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Riza huffs. She adjusts the thin, scraggly piece of linen that the hospital justifies as a blanket - another downside of this shitty place - and makes sure he’s probably covered, warm.

“Three words,” she mutters.

“Eight letters?”

“Twelve, actually.”

Roy raises a brow. “What could it be?”

“Would you like to wager a guess, sir?”

“Not really.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says. Roy laughs, and it’s a tiny little sound that is so discordant with his current mood, but it’s at least genuine. “Now go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.”

He stops fidgeting, for a while. Riza closes her eyes and attempts to fall asleep - and she actually does, for a while - at least until she hears the sheets rustling again, the movement and tension coming from beside her. She groans softly.

“You should sleep, sir.”

She feels him stiffen. Roy smiles sheepishly, looking right through her like she’s not there. It still unnerves her how this is probably going to be their new normal: him without his sight. Her as his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Riza frowns. An apology is not the answer she wants. What she wants is for him - or them both, actually - to sleep and rest and properly recuperate so that they can have a speedy recovery, so that they can get out of here as soon as possible.

“Bad dreams?” she asks, because it’s the exact same thing that’s been haunting her. (She’s lucky her throat makes it impossible for her to scream or kick up a fuss; she’d hate for Roy to stumble blindly through the room in what he probably thinks is an act of chivalry and/or heroism.)

He shrugs.

“Then and now,” he offers. His smile fades, and he lapses into an unexpected moment of vulnerability. “Hard to differentiate between day and night nowadays, too.”

And because Riza doesn’t know what to say, she simply brushes her knuckles against his.

Roy returns the gesture, drawing indiscernible patterns on the back of her hand with his bandaged one.

“Well, it’s almost midnight now, sir.”

He lets out a small laugh, but it’s painfully hollow.

Riza shifts slightly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze - hospital beds are clearly not meant for two persons (or anything inappropriate) - but it doesn’t bother her all that much. She just wishes there’s more she can do, to comfort him. Make him feel a little less gloomy.

“It feels like I’ve been sleeping for years.”

“If it helps reduce the incidents of you falling asleep during office hours, then you should get more sleep now, while you can.”

Roy turns, like he’s searching for her, even though there’s not much closer she can be at this point. He exhales shakily. She feels his hand trembling against hers, and responds with a gentle caress. (She knows he’s still feeling guilty, probably berating himself internally about their predicament, about what transpired beforehand. And to be fair, there’s a part of her that’s still angry about all that's happened underground. They’ll probably have to talk about it, at some point, but probably not now — not when they’re both still drugged up and only half-lucid.)

“Humour me, Lieutenant.”

“What?”

“I can’t sleep,” he confesses. Dimly, Riza notes that his voice has taken on a somewhat petulant edge — like a child complaining about their bedtime, but she doesn’t comment on it. Being nearly bedridden for a week is enough to drive her nuts, too. “I’ve tried counting sheep and all that shit, and it’s just — it’s not working.”

Riza sighs. She’s tired, yes, but she’s also aware that she’s probably not going to get any sleep at this rate. She tries to think of ways to stave off his restlessness. Reading is one — she can probably bore him into sleep with a Xingese recitation (she’s gotten pretty good at that lately), but she’s technically not supposed to be talking much. Alcohol is another, but neither of them are supposed to be drinking (and besides, the only form of alcohol available in hospitals isn’t meant for human consumption). Maybe chess, then. She’s not particularly keen on playing a game of chess, now (because she just wants to sleep), but she thinks it’ll help exhaust some of his boundless energy.

“We could play a game of chess, if you want. Breda was kind enough to drop a vinyl board here in the afternoon.”

“I can’t see —“

“I’ll tell you where I move my pieces.”

He frowns, clearly not liking the idea. “You’re not supposed to be talking much, Lieutenant.”

“I’m fine,” she insists, turning to pour a cup of water for herself before continuing. “I won’t have to speak much — unless you’re being a nuisance or a cheat or a fraud.”

He laughs. “I’ll be none of those things, Lieutenant.”

“Good.”

She sets up the board on his bed and helps him sit up. Riza lets him play white.

“It’s your move, sir.”

“You’ve made yours?”

“No. You’re playing white.”

“Tough. It’ll be more embarrassing if I end up losing.”

Riza smiles. “Well, we don’t know that yet, sir.”

He opens with pawn to e4. She helps him move his pieces and parrots her movements back to him. Pawn to e4, too. Pawn to d4. Same here. A closed game, not quite like his usual aggressive style of playing.

Riza watches as he frowns with intensity. It’s probably more a test of memory than strategy for him at this point. She wonders if there’s a way he can adapt to chess, to the military’s utilitarian (and frankly unsympathetic) demands now that his sight’s impaired.

(Life is so unlike chess, Riza thinks, in spite of Roy’s silly metaphors that postulate otherwise. The rules are never fixed, and the universe is always rife with uncertainty. It’s not like chess, where you can predict your opponents’ moves if you get good enough. Neither of them had expected that he’d be here right now, losing sleep and contemplating life over a chessboard while blind.)

He clucks his tongue, reciting a series of movements from memory. The Blackmar-Diemer. Riza smiles indulgently.

Still as aggressive as ever, sir.

Of course.

The game quickly becomes a round of blitz, and though he manages to open his lines and mount a rather decent attack, it’s clear that he has trouble recalling after the eighteenth move. It's still an impressive feat, though. Better than the average layperson.

“Check,” Riza announces, conversationally. Technically, she’d had the advantage, both on the board (and in real life). It shouldn’t really count, and besides, checkmate isn’t her objective — it’s to get her commanding office to sleep.

“Well-played,” Roy hums. He’s strangely still in his bed as he closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples — presumably to ease off an oncoming migraine. It happens a lot, when he’s in deep thought, when he’s over thinking. Thinking too much for his own good. “I need to work on my recall, I think.”

“I think so too, sir.”

He laughs, but the sound is again empty, foreign. It is so at odds with his usual smirks and unbridled laughter (when he’s laughing at someone else, or a joke made at somebody’s expense), like there’s an ache beneath the surface that she cannot reach.

Roy turns slightly, bumping into his dethroned king as he adjusts himself on the bed.

She blames the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to cry on her drugged-up system.

(Riza doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to how uncommunicative his eyes are. He’s always regarded each and every one of his subordinates with respect and meaning and gratitude, but he’d simply looked over the unit as if taking inventory when they had come by earlier.

But she’ll make do, Riza thinks. She has to. She’s always known him in a way nobody else has, in a deeply intimate way, like a book she’s memorised by heart.)

They fall silent for a few minutes. His lips part a little - she knows  he’s about to say something - but it snaps shut again, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.

Riza simply waits for him, like she always has; holding onto his held breath like it's the last thread of hope. She leans into his touch a little closer than necessary.

I’m right here, even if you can’t see me.

Roy smiles.

“I hope I won’t forget your face, Riza.”

[nautiscarader]

Prompt for “the clock’s ticking”, Multimouse trying to finish a quickie in time for Aspik to be able to reset and relive it a couple times

On one hand, I SO wanted to write a Ladrien quickie fic... on the other, the original prompt was SOOO good... and then I realised... hang on! I can unify them :)

So, have a delightful Ladrien-Aspik-Multibug lemon.

(Ao3)

============

- We only have thirty minutes... - That will be more than enough...

Marinette's voice reassured Adrien, as the couple crashed onto Adrien's bed, his needy hands on Ladybug's ass. Half an hour - that's all they'll have for the next two weeks, until Adrien would return from his trip. If only he learned about it earlier, he would leave Ladybug with just a kiss last night.

Marinette knew as well that the quick moment of peace would be gone in a flash, even if his kisses and caresses made her forget about the passage of time, as her mind slowly became blank, when he reached her neck.

Time...

Marinette opened her eyes in a sudden moment of realisation, as a devious and dangerous idea appeared in her mind.

- Ladybug?

Adrien noticed her half-petrified, half-excited expression, as she pondered her decision. It was so wrong, and yet, so tempting...

She turned her head and looked at her boyfriend, his shirt unbuttoned, and she felt the need burning between her loins, being cooled down with an icy-cold voice that sounded very much like Tikki's, and her own, from time to time...

- Adrien - she started, biting her lip - I-I have an idea how to make this moment last longer... Would you like to? - Y-yes! Obviously, but how-

She reached for her yo-yo, opened it, and with Adrien's permission and with a flash of light, she reached into the miraculous box, bringing a shiny piece of jewellery.

- You remember how does this one work, right, Aspik?

Adrien's eyes widened.

- Oh, Ladybug... That's... - Abusing my power as a Guardian? - she finished for him - Yeah, probably. But for you, I am willing to take the risk... - Er, no, I was going to say that it's really, really sexy.

Words got caught in Marinette's throat, as Adrien addressed her, making her cheeks match the colour of her red costume.

Adrien slipped on the malachite-coloured bracelet, releasing the adder-like Kwami.

- Greetingssss... - Sass hissed, and took a quick look at the situation he was summoned to: Ladybug, sitting in Adrien's laps - I sssee what'sss going on...

- Hey, don't judge - Adrien countered - If you could rewind time to spend it with your girlfriend, you'd do it. Scales slither!

A bright, green flash enveloped the blonde model, and when Ladybug opened her eyes, she saw his, matching ones, against her face, as the superhero pressed his sleek body against her, pushing her into the bedsheets.

- T-Take me... As many times as you want - she whispered, and relaxed her body, rendering herself defenceless. - But what about you? - he suddenly asked - I'm going to be reliving the same moment over and over again, but you... - Oh, Adrien... - she cupped his cheeks and kissed him - You are so considerate... But, I...

She shied away for a moment, as a second, even more difficult idea came to her mind. And as her lips coiled into a smirk, Adrien knew he won't be the only one stretching this moment into infinity.

Marinette dipped her hand once more into the Miraculous void and brought a, pinkish-grey necklace she quickly put around her neck.

A mouse-like Kwami appeared between the two, equally perplexed by the heated position of the two young adults.

- Oh, oh dear - Mullo squeaked - Am-Am I interrupting you two? - Au contraire - Ladybug answered - I need your power. Unify!

With one more bright flash, the superheroine lying underneath Adrien transformed again, the red of her costume turning grey.

Her hand sneaked between their bodies, undoing a few scales around his crotch, freeing his cock that only looked more imposing, and slipped a condom onto him, a moment before their urges overtook them.

- So, Aspik... - she spoke, her voice dripping with desire - Yes, uh, Multibug? - As I've said... take me... Take *us*, as many times as you want...

She used her newly gained power and a second, slightly smaller Multibug appeared next to her, taking her place in Adrien's arms. The two exchanged knowing looks, strengthened by years of Ladybug explaining her complicated plans to him with a single word, and Adrien knew exactly what was going to happen.

Their lips met, and with only twenty minutes to spare, Adrien put his mouth, hands and hip to work. The sheer thought of Ladybug using her powers for such earthly, low, dirty needs drove him insane as he tore her and outfit apart, revealing their naked, hormone-filled bodies.

Adrien grabbed her thighs and unceremoniously rammed himself inside her, listening to her high-pitched voice, crying his name, as his hips pushed her deeper into his mattress, while his tongue slithered around her nipples, giving her the modicum of foreplay he could offer her.

With each minute on the clock, he pushed himself deeper inside her, feeling her hips replying to his frantic, erratic bucking. Next to them, the original Multibug masturbated, watching herself and her boyfriend engage in a heated mating session between a predator and prey.

- Adrien... Adrien...! I love you!

Multibug moaned her proclamation as Adrien felt her body shuddered and she came, pulling her lover with him, as he flooded the rubber with several hefty spurts of his seed.

Panting, he saw the clock on his wall strike the full hour, and just as Nathalie knocked on his door, he gently pushed his lover to his side, and called his power.

- Second chance!

With a bright flash, time was rewound, back to when Multibug called for her double. But now, she did it again, while the first copy lied, tired, and sweaty next to them.

- Round two.

Adrien spoke to his new lover, and feeling his virility come back, he rolled his hips to hear his lady scream his name again.

Four times they did it the regular, and satisfying, if not slightly boring way, before Adrien decided to put a spin on his lover - literally flipping her around to ram himself in her ass, much to hers and the original Multibug's surprise.

Next Multibug offered to blow him, closing her lips around his cock, and giving him the longest and most sensual blowjob she could, receiving a mouthfull of his seed in return.

The next one was face-fucked, as Aspik used her mouth as if it was her pussy, indulging in a fetish only his new powers could provide.

Eight one grabbed the condom and slid it off, declaring she wants to know how does it feel to be mated, and Adrien stood up to the challenge admirably, supplying her with hefty, thick spurts of his seed.

That only encouraged Adrien, and two more were fucked raw as well, after Adrien folded them in half, and put them in a mate press, eager to flood their wombs with his virility.

Five next Multibugs received a stellar oral treatment, as Aspik gallantly decided he's had enough, eager to see how many times he can make her come with only his mouth. Being able to rewind time, he explored her body thoroughly, so that he could make her come in seconds, knowing just where to kiss and press his fingers.

Sex with sixteenth went on so long, he missed the deadline, and refused Nathalie inside, giving her a rather loud and lewd presentation of what he was doing to his lover.

Ten more times Adrien Agreste claimed his lady, who sang loud praises to his body as she surrendered herself to him, living through orgasm after orgasm, without having to rewind time.

And when Adrien did it the final time, he was greeted to the sight of pure bliss. Three dozens of Multibugs, one from each of the timelines lied around him, all naked, most leaking, or wearing his cum, all satisfied beyond belief after having been totally dominated.

It looked even more bizarre to Marinette, who only speculated how the combination of their powers could look like. One moment she was watching her copy scream in agony, and next second the room was full of them, all serving as a proof of his powers and needs.

But there was one last thing to do, and when Marinette called her doubles back, she realised there was no way she could have prepared herself for this.

The feeling of dozens of orgasm, all happening at once flooded her mind, body and soul. For a moment she thought she was gonna choke, as the after-feelings of several blowjobs tested her gag reflex, resulting in her imagining sucking off ten or so Adriens and tasting their combined cum.

She also felt the same unmistakable feeling of warmth spreading inside her, as she realised that at some point Adrien decided to ditch the condoms. She pondered the consequences of letting his combined releases fill her right now, and she shuddered with pleasure at the very thought of it...

She felt his mouth and kisses all over her body, her breasts, her lips, her *lips*, her ass... there was no place of her body, inside or outside left unmarked by Adrien Agreste and his love for her.

In the end, Marinette did not know how many times has she climaxed, spilling his name from her lips, but when her body finally stopped collecting memories of all her doubles, she felt as if they spent half a day making love, something reserved only for cheap romance novels or on-line fanfics... And she wouldn;t be surprised if it was true.

She opened her eyes, and was greeted with sight of Adrien Agreste in his travel suit, handing her the green bracelet back.

- Thank you, Ladybug. - he spoke with his unmistakable charming smile, as he kissed her palm - That was... unforgettable. - I... I should thank you...

Marinette spoke, still looking all over her body. She was so glad she didn't have to take hour-long shower from the cum she would have been painted with. She realised she has just invented the cleanest way of making love possible.

- I think that should satisfy you...

She stood up and kissed him.

- And if not... just call me, and I will use the horse miraculous to portal myself to wherever you are.

[thegraystreaks]

i just read your fics on ao3 and they were so good, i love missing moments from canon! Idk if you ever take prompts but if you do i would really love to read a different way for percabeth to get together in canon?

anon, the way you got me to write something for the first time in ages….

anyway this is super self indulgent but I had a lot of fun writing it!! thank u for your kinds words I would die for you probably!!

this takes place during botl, the day Percy comes back from Ogygia, sometime after Annabeth storms out of the Big House.

-

“Annabeth glared at me. You are the single most annoying person I’ve ever met!” And she stormed out of the room.

I stared at the doorway. I felt like hitting something. “So much for being the bravest friend she’s ever had.”

-

He finds Annabeth in the arena. It’s empty save for her — everyone knows by now that sparring with her while she’s like this never leads to anything good. So she’s taking on a dummy, her anger apparent in the rigid lines of her body, fury in the force behind her blows. She rolls and kicks, dodging imaginary attacks, and Percy could swear that the air is thick, charged, like the feeling before a thunderstorm. Which is stupid — it’s camp, and the magical borders keep the sky cloudless as always. 

As he approaches, the only acknowledgement of his presence is her intensified rage, the way her blade slashes and hacks with renewed vigor. They’re gonna need to replace that dummy, he thinks.

“Can we talk?”

She wheels to face him, thunder in her eyes. For a moment, he’s scared he’ll need to pull out Riptide. She turns to the dummy one last time and stabs it straight through the heart. “You wanna talk? Then go ahead.”

He swallows nervously. Now that he’s got her attention, he doesn’t quite know where to start. His mind flashes to last winter, and how distraught he was when she had been kidnapped. How he’d have done anything to get her back. How he just knew that she couldn’t be dead. He reaches out hesitantly, but pulls his arm back when he glances at the hilt of the blade, still sticking out of the dummy. 

“I was thinking about how upset I was last winter, when you were kidnapped. That, um — well, ‘sucked’ doesn’t really cover it. That was awful. I really am sorry that I worried you.”

Something shifts in her eyes, and he can see the hurt dripping through the cracks of her anger.  “You couldn’t send an Iris Message? I thought you were dead, Percy.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Drachmas were a bit hard to come by on the island.”

“Ha,” she laughs drily. She pauses to wipe at the sweat on her brow. “What was she like?” The words drip with contempt.

“I don’t — who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she scoffs. “Calypso. What was she like?”

Air rushes out of Percy’s lungs. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Chiron was right, then. She had figured out where he’d been. 

“Does it matter?”

“Well, you spent two full weeks there, so I can’t imagine she looks like the ancient hag she is. How old is she again? Two-thousand? Or is it three?”

“Annabeth—”

“Two weeks, Percy!” she cries.

“I’m sorry, okay? Time was weird there!” 

“Oh, time was weird, that’s your excuse?”

“Yeah, that’s my excuse!” he shoots back.  “And I wasn’t just laying on a beach being fed grapes or something, I was recovering! From being blown up!”

That seems to drain some of the fight from her. She looks away, and her voice shrinks down: “I’m sorry you were hurt. I—I hate seeing you hurt.” 

In the silence that follows, he thinks inexplicably of Aphrodite coming to visit him last winter, the limo so out of place in the desert. The way that she had appeared, if only for a second, like the girl in front of him. How she had promised she wouldn’t let his love life be “easy and boring”. Gods, why couldn’t it be? The rest of his life is crazy enough. 

He had hoped, briefly, that Aphrodite might’ve forgotten about her promise when they’d returned to Olympus. He remembers a slow, sad song, and his hands on Annabeth’s waist as they had swayed. How it had felt like the pieces were maybe finally starting to fall into place. The memory seems worlds away.

“Annabeth, listen. I’m sorry I was gone so long. But I didn’t choose to be sent there. And—and I came back.”

“Duh, Percy,” she rolls her eyes. “That’s her curse.”

“Okay, you’re right.” She turns away. He reaches out, more confident now, and takes hold of her arm. “But curse or not, I chose to come back.”

She pulls her arm out of his grip. “Yeah, so that you could tell me I have to bring some mortal girl to lead my quest!”

“What does Rachel have to do with this?”

“Are you fucking serious?” she shouts. He can see the walls building back up, the storm returning in her eyes. She whips around and yanks her dagger out of the sparring dummy, kicking up dirt as she begins to stalk away.

This was not how he wanted this to go, not his intent when he came to find her. Of all the ways returning to camp might’ve gone, he had never imagined it like this. He tries to reconcile the girl that kissed him in the mountain with this one, who can’t go more than a minute without yelling at him, that won’t stop running off. Why is this so complicated? She kissed him, right? Isn’t that supposed to be it? The happy ending? If movies told him anything, it was that the kiss means you get the girl. It shouldn’t be this hard. It wouldn’t be, he thinks bitterly, if she would quit storming off.

“Gods, would you stop running away when we’re talking?” he shouts after her. “Would it kill you to stick around and listen to me?”

He’s taken aback when she actually turns around, arms crossed and foot tapping. “Well?” 

Percy blinks. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Shit, what is he trying to say? “You know, Calypso offered me immortality. I could’ve escaped the prophecy, I could’ve lived in paradise forever—”

That probably wasn’t what he should’ve led with. “If you want me to ‘stick around and listen’, you’re off to a terrible start,” she seethes.

He steamrolls on anyway: “—but I didn’t, I didn’t take her offer, because — well, because of Grover and Tyson, and the quest isn’t over yet, but also because—” he stops. He’s rambling. Focus. How can he say this? “Did you really kiss me back there, or did I make that up in my head?” 

She freezes. Silence stretches out between them, and Percy kind of wants the ground to swallow him whole. But it’s out there, now. Might as well go all in. “I really hope you did, because I’m gonna feel insanely stupid if it was just some volcanic-explosion-induced fever dream.” 

Slowly, she unfreezes. Nods. “Uh. Yeah, I did.”

He takes a step closer. “I don’t care about ‘some mortal girl’. At least, not the way I care about….about you.” He can feel the blood rushing in his ears, can feel his heart beating painfully fast. She’s still just standing there, staring and staring but not moving. She’s not saying anything, why isn’t she saying anything?

“Gods, can you throw me a bone, Annabeth? I feel like I’m dying here—”

He’s cut off when she lunges forward and kisses him. It’s like their first kiss in two ways: it’s over before he can even react, and it leaves him staring, dumbfounded. How is it that she’s caught him off-guard with this not once, but twice now?

“Think you’ll remember that one was real?” she asks, still only inches from his face. Her breath smells of strawberries, and her eyes are puffy from his almost-funeral, but the storm in them begins to clear. 

He laughs, bright and full. “You should probably kiss me one more time, just to be safe.”

“Hmm,” she considers, arms coming up around his neck. “Should I count down so that you can be ready this time?”

He groans. “You are so not making this easy.”

“I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable. It shouldn’t be this cute.”

“Three, two—”

He’s on her before she reaches one, one hand pulling her closer at the waist and the other finding her cheek. When their lips meet, it feels like everything he’s been waiting for. Like the clouds parting, like sunshine, like warmth, like happiness.

It may not be their first kiss, but it’s their best yet.

[americasass91]

Hidden Fantasy

So i’m sure we’ve all thought about this. Well at least I have. I’m a proud shameless hoe for Chris Evans and more specifically, Steve Rogers. I’ve had this idea for awhile and thought what better time to post it than for @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​ #shamelesshoesforchris. It is explicit so please proceed with caution. 

Prompts used:

“Oh God, Did I say that out loud?

“Okay, wait, that kind of turned me on”

“We’re not done yet”

If it sucks, i’m sorry. But I greatly enjoyed writing it! 

Rating:Explicit

Words:1.6k

Warnings: Smut, embarrassment, Steve’s Arms

Steven Grant Rogers.

It sometimes still amazed you that he was yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself to remind you it was real. He was your man. He was the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for. Sweet, considerate, old fashioned, and charming.

Not to mention the sex was amazing.

You really didn’t know going into the relationship what sex with him was going to be like. You didn’t really care because you liked him for who he was, not how he was in bed.

But what you weren’t expecting was for Steve to be a sex god. He was insatiable. Having you at any chance he could get. Whether that be taking you in the back of the quinjet after a mission or bending you over his desk in his office. When he wanted you, he took you.

Not that you had any complaints. You were a proud shameless hoe for the Super Soldier and you let him take you any way he wanted.

You 2 had indulged in a couple fantasies you had (role play, spanking, tying each other up). But there was something you had always wanted to do but were way too embarrassed to ask or even bring it up.

You were insanely attracted to his arms. They really did something for you. All it took was for him to wrap you in a warm hug or wrap his arm around you while watching tv and all of a sudden you needed new panties.

Or now, when he was lifting weights, watching his muscles flex. You were supposed to be getting your run in on the treadmill but had come to a slow walk not being able to take your eyes off him.

God you just wanted to ride his biceps. And yes you are aware of how weird and kind of creepy that sounds. You hadn’t brought it up to him because you didn’t want him recommending you to a therapist. But you couldn’t help yourself. You had a dream about it and ever since, it’s all you wanted to do.

Steve must feel eyes on him because he looks around the room until he sees you. He gives you a wink and goes back to his weights. The wink makes you stumble so you decide it’s probably best you get off the treadmill.

Natasha and Wanda walk by talking animatedly about something. They look over and see you drooling over your boyfriend. They turn and smirk at each other.

“Hey, Y/N. You have some drool right here.” Nat teases as she points to the corner of your mouth. You quickly bring your hand to your mouth to wipe it away. Your cheeks start to heat up in embarrassment.

“Hey don’t be embarrassed, you and Steve are still in your honeymoon phase. Totally normal to be drooling over him.” Wanda says sweetly, trying to make you feel better.

“Thanks, sometimes I can’t help it.” You reply as you once again look over to Steve who has now started sparring with Sam.

Your mind has once again drifted back to his arms. You tilt your head to the side and watch as he pins Sam on the mat. ‘Jesus Christ, I just want to hump his arms.’ You think as you watch him help Sam to a standing position.

All of a sudden you hear snickering and you look over and see Nat and Wanda laughing behind their hands. Your eyes widen. “Oh god, Did I say that out loud?”

“You sure did and I think some Super Soldier ears heard you.” Nat continues laughing as her and Wanda walk towards another sparring mat.

You reluctantly look up and sure enough Steve is staring at you. He looks somewhat amused. Great, now he probably realizes how much of a weirdo he’s dating. You break eye contact and quickly make your way out of the gym as fast as you can.

You decide that just staying in your room was the best option at this point. You didn’t want to face anyone knowing that Nat has probably told the whole tower by now that you want to ride your boyfriend's impressive arms.

You’re getting ready to bury yourself in your couch when you hear a knock on your door.

You decided to ignore it and go back to your burrito state on the couch. But whoever is knocking is persistent and won’t let up.

You sigh heavily and throw your blankets off of you and head towards the door. You look through the peephole and see Steve waiting patiently.

“Come on doll, I know you’re in there. Open up please.”

Well how can you say no to that? So you hesitantly open the door.  

You’re greeted with a pair of bright blue eyes and a warm smile. “Hi doll, may I come in?” You nod and stand aside allowing him to enter your room.

You close the door and turn around looking at him expectantly. He walks over and pulls you into a sweet kiss. You gladly accept the kiss and bring your arms up around his neck. Not realizing you’re doing it, you squeeze his biceps on the way up.  He chuckles and pulls away. “So, you like my arms huh?”

You press your forehead against his chest. “Can we please just forget I said anything?”

“No, I don’t think I can forget, doll. I believe you said you wanted to ‘hump my arms’. And what my baby wants, my baby gets.”

You snap your head up to look at his face. “What?” Is all you can manage to reply with.

“You heard me, I don’t need to repeat myself. Now I want you to be a good girl and strip for me.” He casually says as he walks towards your bed, stripping himself of his shirt and sweats.  

You just stand there for a moment not quite sure what’s about to happen. But when he turns around and sees that you haven’t stripped yet you quickly jump into action. Usually you like being punished when not listening to him but you’re too curious about what he’s getting at.

You hastily strip as you walk towards him. He lies back on the bed and casually starts palming himself through his dark blue boxer briefs. You can feel yourself getting wet as you stand there and watch him harden beneath his palm.

“Well come on doll, my bicep isn’t going to ride itself.” He says somewhat impatiently. You snap your eyes to his, noticing there is no sign of joking on his face. “Steve, I’m not going to ride your bicep, that’s embarrassing.”

“Why doll, you’ve ridden my thigh until you came. What’s any different really?” You still stand there, unsure if you really want to do this. “Y/N, get your ass over here and mount my arm before I do it for you.” He says sternly.

Not wanting to piss him off any further, you quickly climb up on the bed and straddle his right arm. You kind of just sit still, still too embarrassed to move.

“Come on sweetheart, ride me. I can feel how wet you are. Just let go.” He says as he stares up at you sweetly, still palming himself. You hesitate for just another second before you think ‘Fuck it, I may never get this opportunity again.’

You slowly move your hips back and forth against his arm and he pushes up into you just a little. You throw your head back and moan quietly as you pick up your pace a bit. Then he starts flexing his arm muscles and dear god the sensation makes you fall forward, placing one hand on the headboard and the other on his chest. You really start riding his arm while he continues to flex under you.

“That’s right sweetheart, take what you need from me. My dirty girl, wanting to ride my arm. Such a whore for me aren’t you? Now lean forward more, I want to suck on those beautiful tits.”

You whimper and pick up speed once more as you lean forward. He takes his hand off his erection and grabs your breast. He sucks his nipple into your mouth and bites down. You arch your back and moan out his name. You can feel your orgasm coming, it’s going to hit you, and hard. You move your hand that’s on the headboard and thread your fingers through his hair.

He can tell you're close, he removes his hand from your breast and grabs onto your hip, helping you grind on him even harder and faster. “You gonna come for me, dirty girl? Gonna make a mess all over my arm? Come on sweetheart, make a mess on me.”

That was all you needed to tip you over the edge. You come hard with a silent scream and fall forward onto his chest, slowing the grinding of your hips until the aftershocks wear off. You pant heavily as you remove yourself from his arm and glance down at it, seeing the mess you made. You look over at his face and he’s looking at you expectantly. “Well come on doll, you better clean up the mess you made.” You go to get up to grab a towel when he grabs your arm.

“With your tongue, sweetheart. Make sure to lick me all clean.” You smirk down at him. “Okay, wait, that kind of turned me on.” You declare as you lean down and get to work on licking his arm from your slick.

“Yeah? That’s good cause we’re not done yet doll.” He goes back to palming his erection. You glance over at him as you lick the last of your mess up and see dark lust filled eyes looking back at you.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you realize you’re in for a long night.

[dykefever]

2022 goals !!

hello hello thank you for the tag @aeridi0nis and @theonlywolfpants !! loving the sound of all your goals and can’t wait to see what y’all put out next year :)

I have a few goals and ideas floating around in my mind so here is my (likely incomplete) list:

1. Continue challenging myself with my writing style

If you take a look at my first fic (actually maybe don’t xo!) that I wrote around august this year, my writing style has evolved quite a bit! i think even from beginning to end of that fic you can see the change. but! i’ve been super proud of my writing lately and getting creative with it. I want to continue that and just take myself further with how I write. Also keep working on dialogue. probably my weakest spot but my latest fic here we are, again really made me work at it (emotionally devastating conversations about why your relationship ended will do that, i suppose)

2. Write a fic actually set in the HP universe.

aggressively not canon compliant though. unless…

but self explanatory. i’ve written only muggle au’s, which i adore but i want to write with magic and probably at hogwarts because there’s such a specific tone and atmosphere i desperately want to try convey! also in similar vein some sirius/harry bonding moments ootp era that they desperately deserve (and so do we)

3. Write Australian marauders!

australian marauders makes me want to bite things and i feel it is my duty to write them. it will likely be a beach fic (of course. of course.) andddd remus will be perhaps a hunky lifeguard …. you know… we will see. but i just really want to write this! it’ll be self indulgent but it would be so fun to write them set in a place that i know super well :)

4. Write more Wolfstarbucks

that’s it that’s the goal i love them so much and like they have such a specific little place in my brain their romantic dynamic makes me go. insane. so insane. they’re a bit perfect together OKAY! and you deserve this happiness is probably my fav fic i’ve written!

5. and finally! take part in a fic fest

They always looks so fun and I feel like it would be another way to challenge myself! and every time i’ve looked at various fests this year the prompts are so interesting

(also just a lil non fic goal is to travel europe and move to the uk next year !!!!! fingers crossed!! i DO have my uk passport all ready to go so !!)

okayyy no pressure to complete this and not sure who has been tagged yet so just some of my mutuals i’d be keen to hear from!! @astranix @iwishiwassiriusblack @elder-millennial-trash

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 4)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death ~6500 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Read on AO3! Disclaimer below the cut!

DISCLAIMER! -i reckon I don’t need the paste it again… but in short: this is a purely self-indulgent work which contains a lot of my own headcanons and whatnot. this chapter especially so! lots of talking and thinking - curious to see what you think!! THANKS FOR READING <3 ----- Tobirama resolved to give you the next dose preemptively. After you had explained to him that during your capture you had never suffered anything like the withdrawal symptoms - or at least you couldn't remember - he expressed concern for the fact the leash might do more permanent damage if stretched too far.

"That means I'm going to have to take it more often," you had whimpered.

Tobirama still had a hard time seeing you so malnourished - a shadow of your former self. But he wasn't going to argue now. "I know," he had answered, keeping his deep voice soft nonetheless. Your precarious state needn't be aggravated by more stress, though he wouldn’t be swayed on this. "However I hardly think they spared you the withdrawal symptoms because they were being fair sports, Y/n." There was a sad logic behind this, of course.

There always was.

You were twisting uneasily in the bed a bit now, blinking a few times. It had not escaped Tobirama's notice that you had seemed to ponder longer - and your movements had become weaker, more sluggish. In fact he had lowered you back to the bed again from the hug you two had shared because he had felt how your muscles had begun to shake - just from sitting up. You had protested of course, but Tobirama wasn't going to change his mind on this, either. You still needed a lot of rest. Besides-

The scales were tipping, slowly.  It made his heart heavy.

Finally you had found your words again. "I suppose so." You closed your eyes lazily.

"Y/n…", Tobirama had spoken up again softly, reaching to grasp your hand which felt so cold. "I'll put you to sleep right after you drank it. If we shield you from any outward sensations, it might help." If it came down to it, Tobirama knew he himself would guard the door if he had to. Pray for anyone who disturbed you in your vulnerable state. At the same time, he was aware how unrealistic that was - but either way, it was another concern he’d find a solution to. He always did.

You had given him a weak smile, then. "It's worth a shot."

Tobirama could tell you hadn't exactly placed any hope in that.

He wasn't sure if he did.

That had been two hours ago, now. In the meantime he had worked to set up the laboratory gear needed for the next task at hand: analyse the contents of the drug. Of course the hospital had all the equipment available as well as an empty room in the basement. Tobirama still wanted to be closer to you, but he'd have to make due with a seal placed in your room. Briefly, he contemplated to let a shadow clone of his guard you, but ultimately he decided against it - his focus mustn't be divided, at least not now. Besides, your day was pretty much running by the leash's clock, which Tobirama knew hatefully well by now. He knew when to be with you. Frankly he still was miffed Mito had removed the branded piece of paper he had placed there earlier - now, he opted to ram a marked kunai into the doorframe. The gesture was clear. Hashirama was tending to his duties as Hokage again by now - Tobirama didn't expect to see his brother again too quickly. Not that he'd blame him - there were other pressing matters at hand.

Tobirama also had some other place to visit again for results.

All of the work was good - the focus was welcomed. During it he was entirely absorbed in considering his approaches to the objective as well as his angles in achieving it. The worry had become an undercurrent in his mind - though his heart still felt heavy and the ache never faded, he now was doing something. He channeled it all into the urge to protect you and keep the promise he made.

Though just as he had sworn to do everything to save you - he had pleaded for forgiveness for everything he needed to do for that.

Now would be a time where he'd regretfully hope for the latter again.

He was standing in front of your door again, holding a small vial containing the clear, dreadful liquid. Tobirama made sure to take the exact amount Hashirama had when they drugged you first - it seemed to have been the right amount given how the timeframe had played out. The bottle his brother had secured from the hideout would make up for a handful of dosages. They still were pressed for time, but there was some yet. Some.

He opened the door silently.

You were squirming again slightly - a disorientated nestle in the bed. Your eyes were closed and a fine sheen of sweat was glistening in the red sun of dusk that filtered through the window.

Tobirama frowned. Had he been too late?

Slowly he approached the bed, sighing heavily. He wasn't a man to hesitate, no matter how grim the task. But he would be lying if he said what he needed to do now was tantamount to driving a katana into his own body.

No, he'd actually prefer doing that to this.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Y/n," he greeted you softly, a hand reaching for your shoulder to rub it gently and check for your response.

Your head whipped towards him, your eyes wide. They blinked a few times as your hazy mind tried to work out the recognition that was digging itself out of the swamp your thoughts had become again.

You didn't reply, though. But your squirms had stilled, at least.

Tobirama desperately wished this wouldn't need to become an act of force again. One he'd absolutely go through with - but cruel for everyone involved.

"It's time," he whispered, keeping the anguish out of his voice in an attempt at comfort. Inwardly, he was mocking himself for it. Ridiculous.

The response was prompt. A whimper first, then a low groan after your gaze settled on the vial he held. Your head tilted to the side as you rolled your eyes almost comically. Except the occasion was far from laughing. Tobirama silently wondered if you had no strength left to even speak.

It was haunting to think that might be the case.

Wordlessly, his hand reached under your neck to tilt your head up somewhat. You didn't protest - you felt awfully limp, anyway. The ache in Tobirama's heart flared again. He did not yet bring the vial to your lips yet - as much as he hated it, the contents were regretfully precious. He couldn't risk spilling a drop of it and thus watched you carefully for any signs of resistance and by extension any need of restraint. Methodically as he was, the ordeal became more stressful by each passing second.

Your eyelids fluttered as you huffed briefly, another groan escaping your lips. It sounded pained this time. Your head shook pitifully from side to side as your eyes rolled back in their sockets again. Were you trying to shake off the delirium that was creeping up on you? Or were you trying to shake him off? Forcing you would add another dimension of anguish to this procedure - he opted to take a moment, for now.

Try to avoid that at least.

"I know," Tobirama uttered in an attempt to pacify you again. The hand that had grasped around the base of your neck let its fingers stroke the base of your scalp gently. "You have to," he muttered, not being able to keep the agony out of his baritone voice now as a jitter snuck into his tone, "I'll be doing everything I can to make it better, Y/n." He didn't want to promise it would be  fine .

For all he knew, he was feeding you poison that would send you on another horror trip.

His heart hammered in a tormented rhythm again.

Your response was yet another anguished groan, but your eyes opened now - fixating him.

"Please, Y/n," he whispered again, no, he pleaded. Please don't make me do worse again, he wanted to say. Instead he massaged your scalp again gently. I would, if I have to, please don’t -

In a rare streak of luck, you stilled then and simply closed your eyes. A fact Tobirama wordlessly uttered gratitude for.

He brought the vial to your lips and tilted it very slightly so the dreaded poison was lapping at your lips.

Your face scrunched.

"I know," he hushed again, though inwardly he tensed. He absolutely must not lose a single drop of this damned substance. If you so much as -

Finally though you opened your mouth slightly to drink it - "Careful," he cautioned quickly but a few gulps later, the substance was gone.

Tobirama felt sorrow budding inside him again as he gently lowered your head back to the pillow. He didn't withdraw his hand yet but rather let it slide up to caress your cheek tenderly, sighing heavily. Your breathing had already begun to even out.

He had wanted to tell you he'd be there - but there was no more time. Instead he closed his eyes to let his chakra graze over your network in an utterly warm and smooth way. With no small amount of grief he witnessed how its flow was becoming more dull again, how the fight against the disruption was stilling. Slowly, he intensified the connection and shifted his focus to your brain again, where activity was picking rapidly. Quickly, he smothered your consciousness with his chakra in the most tender way he could.

Whether or not you could still bear witness to the insane firework that your sensory cortices were unleashing on you, Tobirama couldn't know. He let his chakra linger a moment longer to examine you in hopes of finding an answer to the question - but it was futile.

Time to withdraw.

He removed his hand slowly and then procured a blindfold that he wrapped around your head loose enough for you to remove when you came to again. Then, he rose to his feet and walked to the window to close it, drew the curtains closed so the room was completely dark save for the light coming in from the hall.

Silently, he bid you a regretful goodbye, not even daring to speak now before he left the room and closed the door without making a sound.

See you in a few hours.

As soon as he turned around after sighing again heavily, a familiar voice called out.

"Tobirama!"

His head whipped around to the source of the noise. The worries and sorrow were swept away by stinging irritation. "Shut up, anija!", he hissed through clenched teeth. The handful of people in the hall turned their heads, but as per usual, Tobirama couldn't care less.

Hashirama froze in his tracks. He knew his brother's temper of course, but that attack felt uncalled for - he could tell by the telltale crease of his eyebrows, or what Tobirama sometimes mocked as the ‘kicked puppy look’ his elder brother had down to a science.

Either way, he stormed over towards Hashirama and still managed to not make a sound while doing so. "I just gave her the next dose," he explained, still not bothering to pipe down on the anger.

Hashirama held his hands up apologetically, smirking. "Ah," was all he got out now.

Tobirama huffed and then clicked his tongue to motion for his brother to follow him.

"I set up the laboratory in the basement," he began to explain, leading the way to just there. "I thought about a few things, too." He frowned. "You mentioned there was no storage of herbs or anything else that possibly might have been used to craft drugs or medicine of any kind?"

Hashirama hummed in an affirmative way. "No storage, no. But there was some laboratory equipment." His tone was thoughtful enough to make Tobirama think he already was on the same track he was.

"Then that means they either gathered everything they needed for the drug in Konoha or we actually brought with us the last of their supplies and they were running out of this 'leash'." A cold shiver ran down his spine at the implication of the latter. Not just for what it meant for you had they not managed to break you - but also your current predicament.

Your lifespan did not exceed a week right now, at most. If the Stone shinobi had used anything Tobirama couldn't procure here-

A tight feeling wrapped around his chest. His pace picked up if just to combat the budding ache in his heart.

He simply would not lose you.

Hashirama hummed again, but this time on a different note. "I don't think they were running out. The fact there was no excessive storage capacity down there speaks against that - Y/n had been in their clutches for weeks."

Now it was Tobirama's turn to ponder again. His brother was right. The hideout was not something that had been planned ahead meticulously. Furthermore, "They had not been planning on capturing Y/n, either. Which means they couldn't have brought excessive amounts of the drug with them. Besides, it is highly impractical to pack too much when infiltrating enemy lines." The logic was calming. That means it must be possible to synthesise the drug.

Sadly, Hashirama had another thought. "That is, of course, if they had no other means to prolong the onset of withdrawal symptoms - that the leash we brought with us actually just would’ve been used to tether more people to it."

Tobirama froze in his tracks. He turned around to glance at his brother with a frown. "Explain." He didn’t have to. He already knew what his brother was on about.

Hashirama sighed. "We know this drug firstly enhances all sensory capabilities in extreme ways, to first make the victim more susceptible to torture. Alright. But there is this chakra component to the drug," his index finger and thumb grasped his chin. "From what we've ascertained it firstly near freezes chakra flow. Later, the victim’s chakra begins to flow freely again, but then drug - and this I have not yet understood - disrupts the flow. The disruption causes the ultimately lethal effects of the withdrawal as the body tries to repel it worse and worse, causing systemic inflammation and ultimately shock. Repetitive dosages stop this effect, evidently. Thus the name, I presume. However, it is possible to think there might be some way - some treatment, maybe a jutsu - to set the disruption off again."

The argument was sound - and unsettling. It’d add another dimension of complexity to a problem that already smelled awfully rotten by how mysterious its components were looking. Tobirama blinked then, remembering something - “I doubt it. Y/n told me they frequently made her ingest a substance. Furthermore, remember how she reacted when we gave her the first dose. She was used to the psychotropic effects, thus the… intense moment.” The moment he made her think she was back in captivity.

Hashirama hummed only for a moment, then he nodded in agreement. “You are right. That does seem to rule out my theory.” Silence stretched for a few more moments, a fine frown forming on his brother’s forehead - Tobirama knew he was about to say something he wouldn’t appreciate. “I’m afraid I have the distinct notion that the chakra altering effects and the disruption the drug causes must be the product of alterations to an original substance. Either with chakra or by a jutsu, even.” His usually warm gaze was hard now - and Tobirama knew why.

It was one thing to recreate the contents of a poison - fairly easy, even, if one had a good lead. But to simply copy something like an alteration of an item with chakra or a jutsu even - that was a far more complicated task.

A task that would take up more time - time  you  didn’t have. Tobirama exhaled a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as his other arm clasped around his chest in order to quell the swelling ache that was budding there, the haunting  feeling forming. Of course he was confident in his skills.

But the stakes couldn’t possibly be higher.

If he didn’t figure this out in time -

You’d -

He shook his head briefly to sweep out the overcoming sense of a looming doom that was budding faster than he could control it and swallowed drily as though that’d help it  somehow .

His hand dropped from his face and his arms were crossed in front of his chest now as he considered his brother's words. He took another deep breath. "Unfortunately, I agree. The drug does give off a weak chakra signature. We face a couple of questions," he finally answered, after a brief moment. "First off, how is the chakra altering component of the drug related to its psychotropic effect?" He quirked up an eyebrow. But he already was turning around to continue on their way down to the laboratory.

However, he continued - might as well speak freely about the figurative business order now. "Secondly, how does the withdrawal effect set in? Is it because of metabolic shifts due to a lack of the substance? That would mean the disruption is part of a physical addiction. Or, does the drug actually alter its effect based on the time since indigestion? That… will be even more difficult to replicate." His voice was already gruff - by difficult, he meant near impossible without so much as a lead. Such a feat was poison maker master class. Extensive involvement of chakra, no less.

The ache of his heart began to constrict his chest worse again; he took rebellious, even breaths against it. Outwardly he remained perfectly calm - truth be told, he was. Even in the face of this adversary.

It just meant he had no choice but to try and give it his all. He desperately hoped this option was not the case.

Hashirama's voice was grim now, too. He was well aware of the implication. "It doesn't have to be that complicated. It might be related to the blood levels of the drug. That can drastically alter the effects of medications."

Tobirama's frown smoothed somewhat - he was aware of his brother's attempt to get off the grim route his thoughts had been taking, but the objection was sound nonetheless. "Or it's both." Still, Tobirama wasn't so naive to get infected by his brother's ever present optimism.

Even if right now, he really could do with some sunshine.

Hashirama let out one of his rare exasperated sighs. "Or that." He, on the other hand, wouldn't get infected by his younger brother’s pessimism, either. Or realism, as Tobirama liked to call it. No, Hashirama just became annoyed at times.

They reached the door of the makeshift laboratory. Tobirama half had a mind to lock the door after they entered simply so nobody would interrupt him, but then he might not be notified if anything was wrong with you.

Hashirama strode over to the bench hoisting the equipment, exhaling a low whistle. Tobirama followed and eyed the small vial of the 'leash' he had drawn off the bottle they had. The least possible amount, at least by what he could imagine from his experience.

Hashirama noticed, too. "We'll have to make some considerations beforehand." His tone was serious, his forehead wrinkled in ponder.

Tobirama huffed. "Of course." He crossed his arms again. "Based on our considerations they must have used ingredients found within the Land of Fire. More precisely, the area where Y/n was kept."

"That is not too helpful. That area is a vast forest with rich vegetation. And we don't know how far they went to gather them." Hashirama countered thoughtfully.

"You are right. But we need to start somewhere. And that is analysing what is in this," his fingernail flicked at the vial, "before we think about the effect on the victim’s chakra. Furthermore," Tobirama added with a roll of his shoulders, "only a handful of the plants that grow in the area, even in the wider area, have the intense psychotropic effects we witnessed in Y/n. Or the potential to develop them." He turned to gaze at his brother through narrowed eyelids again.

Hashirama's mien was unreadable. "We need to know what's in there and in what quantities. Then we will still need to figure out how to make it work. There is another problem." His brown eyes turned to Tobirama now. He was perfectly grave now.

Tobirama could guess what this problem was. "How are we going to test the experiments?" His baritone voice was just as low from sincerity.

Hashirama nodded.

Of course, he also had given that some thought. But the answer to that question was very simple. At least to him. Tobirama held his gaze evenly. When he spoke his next choice words, his heart didn't miss a beat. "There are five willing test subjects in the interrogation and torture headquarters right now. Six, actually." Akio must have arrived by now, too.

Hashirama sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. "That's a step too far, Tobirama. It might severely harm them. Kill them, even." His tone became stern. “They’re our prisoners.”

Tobirama bristled with low, swirling anger. And this, too, he had expected from his brother - moral qualms with what Tobirama figured was very sound logic. He crossed his arms, his stare boring through his brother. "What do you suggest then, anija?" His voice dropped below zero. "Test everything on Y/n?"

The question was rhetorical, of course. And Tobirama knew that his brother knew - in fact he dared him to answer it.

Hashirama closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. "I am not, of course," he readily answered before Tobirama could make a cutting comment on your condition or deliver another scathing, cynical remark.

Tobirama seized the silence that followed. "They were trespassing our borders, captured one of our own and tortured her brutally and cruelly for  weeks  . Call me biased for Y/n's involvement, if you will. But between all our options for this problem, they're the most logical one."

Hashirama fell silent. He turned back to the table and gripped the edge, opening his eyes slowly.

Tobirama briefly considered upping the stakes by throwing Mito's name into the mixture - but he knew he didn't need to. It seemed unnecessarily cruel anyway - and it was not wise to tug at emotional strings in an argument like this. Besides, Hashirama on the other hand would be well aware of his brother's predicament, on top of the fact that he was most suitable for the job either way. Tobirama  was  a very good scientist, no matter who had been tethered to the leash.

Still. His brother's voice was heavy when he spoke again. "They still will receive every bit of safety we can grant them. And no unnecessary or cruel tests will be conducted." His gaze swayed to Tobirama, leaving no question about how much he meant that.

Tobirama arched an eyebrow slowly. He certainly wouldn't treat test subjects carelessly - they were in short supply, held vital information and were his only outlet for testing substances he'd end up using on - you. "Of course." His voice still was icy, though.

Hashirama held his gaze a moment longer, but then turned to the laboratory gear in front of him. "Let's begin."

They set up a variety of standard chemical procedures to determine the contents of the leash - different experiments that would, based on their results, narrow down the ingredients until they finally knew what exactly they were dealing with. The problem was that for some of the herbs in question more detailed chemical information was not available and thus they needed to test them themselves - fortunately, Konoha had all of the plants available in the first place. No further delays - except for the time the experiments themselves would take.

Tobirama had a pretty good feeling about the results - the answer to what was in the leash was getting closer, at least its contents. Not just for the fact that if the Stone shinobi had used Konoha herbs for this - but also based on his own experience with poisons, toxins and what he had seen in you.

Frankly what truly set him on edge was the very real - very likely - possibility that this drug was a far more devious concoction using not just chemical components, but also chakra itself which would be more difficult to replicate - counter, too.

Not just difficult. Near impossible.

He had to fight that thought down. One step after the other. Nonetheless it made his work swift as he couldn’t help but wonder if he was running from something that’d be crushing him.

You, actually.

After they had set up the last experiment, he gazed at the clock. There still was time before you'd wake from the sleep he had put you in - before the first phase of the leash had worn off.

He decided to put it to good use.

"Get more rest, Tobirama," Hashirama advised, after they both finished washing their hands. Was there concern in his voice?

Tobirama snorted. "I did that. Don't worry, anija." He went for the door, holding it open for Hashirama.

His brother rolled his eyes. "I don't think Y/n would appreciate how you're treating yourself, brother." He mentioned in passing.

Tobirama's gut churned, his gaze narrowing immediately. He knew precisely what kind of response Hashirama had sought to elicit from him. Right now, it only resonated in his worry and heartache. "Maybe. But she's not here because I'm being forced to drug her and put her to sleep after."

Hashirama stopped in his tracks to stare at his brother incredulously. "Do you practice this kind of caustic demeanor?"

Tobirama locked the door and shook his head. "No, it comes naturally. Easily, actually after everything that happened. And all that still goes on." His scarlet gaze turned to his brother again.

Hashirama's shoulders drooped. "We'll save her, Tobirama."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to soothe the tight feeling in his chest. "We will."

Hashirama returned to his duties while Tobirama returned to a place he had high hopes for: the interrogation and torture unit's headquarters. Except there was one problem: it was late evening by now. Night, almost. A triviality to Tobirama, but it might cause a problem now of course. He still opted to stride in like he was part of the unit altogether - at the very least, they should know to expect him again after his first visit.

What a pleasant surprise it had been to actually find out not only had they known he'd return in a timely manner but also were prepared to receive him at this time of the day.

He could get used to that.

"Sleep deprivation is one of the most effective ways of… gaining information," his guide, Ikuro of the Yamanaka clan, provided after Tobirama had wondered that the building was still this busy this time of the day. A burly man, probably quite a couple of years older than Tobirama, who carried himself with remarkable grace for someone of his stature. His voice was deceptively friendly.

Tobirama was satisfied he seemed to be the one in charge of the six Stone shinobi.

"So, what have you found out about this 'leash'?"

Ikuro pursed his lips in a displeased manner. "I'm afraid they're all well trained when it comes to resisting our… methods," he answered slowly, waving for Tobirama to follow him down the corridor and the stairs he knew would take him to their cells.

However now, they took a turn into an adjourned office - where Ikuro picked up a piece of paper from the desk. "We've gleaned shreds from them, so far. The leash is more than just a drug administered to a victim, it seems."

Tobirama's neck hair rose up. Crossing his arms, he narrows his eyelids again to give Ikuro a glare that left little open about the urgency. Frankly he half had a mind to just snatch the piece of paper from him and read it himself.

Ikuro however was not fazed the slightest, in fact he had not even gazed up at Tobirama. "We can't say for sure yet, but what we learned strongly suggests it is a combination of drugs with some form of chakra. A jutsu, even, possibly."

That hit him like a punch in the gut.

Tobirama took a step to the side and raked through his hair with a hand. He knew this - his brother and himself had expected it, it had been logical - but to get the information now still felt like a physical strike. The heavy feeling inside of him had spread from his chest to his shoulders. He felt his heart hammer again in a painfully familiar war as he took deep and even breaths through the heartache that gripped him again.

Quickly, he forced himself to regain his composure. His task had just become a lot more difficult. He had known, really, prepared for this, so he should be calm - even if this was near impossibl-

No. He must not think that way.

Researching jutsu was even more up his alley than anything else in this mess. In fact, he’d go as far as to say the involvement of chakra made this all the more his business. Really, the daunting fact was he had never encountered anything like the leash and without a lead he might as well search for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

While you were dying.

He felt like shouting profanities. Actually, he should've expected this. He felt stupid for even thinking it might be as simple as finding out what herbs they used.

"I see. Anything else?" His baritone voice was neutral.

"The effects of the drug, though ... I'm sure you know those already." Ikuro considered him with a careful glance now.

Tobirama was getting more impatient. He sighed. "There still might be more information." He extended his hand. "Please?", he hoped that had sounded as polite as he wanted it to.

And not as irritated as he felt.

Ikuro hesitated again. “I must warn you.”

Tobirama’s gaze narrowed as he once more reminded himself why it was important to behave, not snatch up the paper and read it. Even so, he wouldn’t conceal the irritation in his voice anymore. Anyone who tries to stall him would burn up his patience faster than dry parchment. “I am very confident whatever it is, I can take it. As you know, I’ve seen and done a lot myself at this point.”

The burly man was entirely unfazed and only shook his head dismissively. “It is possible the information we got here might be flawed, or even incorrect, serving only to demoralise you. The prisoners are well equipped to handle torture. This? This was almost too easy to obtain. And… it isn’t pretty.”

An ice-cold shiver ran down Tobirama’s spine. He had a distinct notion as to what part of the leash this information did pertain. His jaws clenched so hard muscles hurt - only for a moment as he steeled himself for what was to come. “I need to know everything.”

Ikuro handed him the precious sheet wordlessly then.

Tobirama read it at record speed.

And instantly, his stomach clenched in a most uncomfortable way by now he only thought his heart would be doing.

In great detail, the effects of the withdrawal from the leash were described - starting with what you had experienced down to far more sinister and horrible stages. First came fever, disorientation, muscle cramps. Then, pain followed - this section was so colorful Tobirama knew someone had directed it at him. Searing, burning, splicing - from the inside out the victim would suffer brutally. After the pain came the real damage to the victim’s organs as their own chakra would try to repel the disruptors - the perceived pain became that of actual tissue dying, extremely excruciating while the body shut down piece by piece. Victims were confined to their own heads but never far away enough to stop feeling the pain. Death would be mercy, at last.

He closed his eyes momentarily to force away the pictures of you in the hospital bed; pale, lifeless, unmoving.

That won’t happen.

He would not allow it.

Inhaling a sharp breath he tried to reason this might be just a ploy as Ikuro had stated - or not. It didn’t matter, because this wouldn’t come to pass. Yet it didn’t exactly make stomaching the other bits to this report easier. Specifically the few clues about the nature of the leash - the implication was clear.

Chakra was involved in some way.

The question now was to what extent - how sophisticated. Was it responsible for the effects on your chakra network and therefore by extension the withdrawal, their main problem? Or did the chakra alter the contents in such a fashion they affected the chakra network? Already, Tobirama began to devise tests to ascertain just that.

While fighting against the constricting tightness that wound around his chest. Stole his breath. Stabbed his heart. You wouldn’t be lying dead in a bed-

It was daunting. And yet-

"You've not managed to break them, yet?" He finally inquired, rising up an eyebrow questioningly, perfectly at ease.

If Ikuro was surprised that Tobirama handled himself well - outwardly - then he did not show it at all. "I'm afraid it's not that easy. Not only are all of them resilient, they've also been subjected to several mental protection jutsu. Befitting for a squad with their task."

Tobirama exhaled an exasperated sigh. "Of course." He was irritated. Nothing came easy, here.

"Except," Ikuro spoke up again, arching an eyebrow, "For the prisoner called Akio. I must admit, I'm impressed with your work there, Tobirama. Though I'm afraid you've gone a bit too far. He's… broken apart." Ikuro tilted his head slightly.

Tobirama felt no shred of regret or pity for his actions or Akio. It had been absolutely necessary. Maybe a shinobi like Ikuro would've made better work of him, but they did not have such a person available then. It was as simple as that. Besides, he simply couldn't see past the current predicament he - you - found yourself in. "He is lowest in rank and didn't even know about the 'leash' to begin with. But I'll be sure to take lessons next time," Tobirama added in a sarcastic tone.

Ikuro smiled drily. "Oh, don't get me wrong - it was good work. Just intense."

Tobirama huffed. "It was an intense moment." He decided to leave it at that and switch the topic: "I'm currently replicating the 'leash' in order to secure Y/n's immediate survival," he explained as neutrally as he could, but the constricting sensation around his chest was becoming worse. "I'll need to test out my experiments results. I've gotten my brother's permission to do so on these six prisoners."

Ikuro's eyebrows rose slowly. A smile formed that might have creeped out a more fainthearted person easily. "I see. Well, we welcome such inventions," his tone was velvety.

Tobirama wasn't sure how to feel about that just now. This leash was a powerful weapon that would fit well in Konoha's arsenal. He left it at that.

"It might help cracking them open, too," Tobirama added.

"Indeed." Ikuro grinned now. Then, he mellowed somewhat. "We'll be working both angles. The leash, as well as breaking them to get the information needed to cure Y/n."

Tobirama gave a somber nod. That he was sure of.

By the time Tobirama walked back to the hospital, the moon was shining pale over the village. Still, he spared his surroundings no second thought.

His focus was entirely on his objective once more. It was easy to smother the looming sense of doom that haunted him by breathing the fresh air. Venting his mind. Reorganise, recuperate. Walks like this often helped him. There was a lot of work to be done.

You still were living on borrowed time, as it was.

And today he had learned that extending that time alone will be a far more difficult task than he initially had thought it to be. Frankly identifying the contents of the leash was the least of his problems now - he was quite confident the experiments they had set up would already show what herbs are involved. But the modification with chakra - to what extent had it altered the substance? Or was it chakra itself that caused the disruption? A jutsu?

Questions he had asked himself before, that now bored into his mind in a fashion that almost caused a headache.

The clock was ticking fast, and all he could do was come up with more questions while it stole the breath from his lungs. If he didn’t find answers fast, then you’d die one of the most horrible deaths he ever read about.

It was a huge, damn mess.

"Fuck!", he shouted suddenly, and in a rare fit of unleashed anger, he kicked at the next pebble in front of him.

A groan pressed past his clenched teeth as he raked through his short hair again. He huffed. Then he sighed. When he entered the hospital lobby and checked the clock in the hall, he cursed under his breath. His little excursion had taken longer than he had expected - he should have used his hiraishin seal to get to you. You should be awake again by now.

[shyneanon]

I don't know what type of prompts you're looking for, but this idea has been on my mind for a while: swap MfSans and Princess. Where Sans is the one who's sick of mafia life and wants to leave, but his bro won't let him. On top of that, this flirty human woman won't leave him alone, even though he's told her a hundred times his bro will kill her if he finds her hitting on Sans.

Ahhhh an AU of my AU fanfic, that sounds so fun! I’ve been wanting to write this but was having a hard time thinking of the details, but I finally have something done. They’re not completely swapped in personalities or anything, mostly just in their roles in the story, but I hope you enjoy it.

---

Sans didn’t like going for walks.

But it was something Paps insisted on. Several times he’d tried shortcutting to cheat, but Paps always caught him. He was smart. So eventually Sans had given up.

Instead, he would head for the park on evenings when he wasn’t on the job (so to speak), sit there awhile, and then come back. Paps always thought he’d been walking all that time. Sometimes he even got nice cream, and Paps was none the wiser.

As usual, he found a park bench— one that he took up most of the room of— and sat. It was nice to be alone with his thoughts for a while. The park was a lot emptier and quieter at night. No kids. Most people at home with their families.

Their peace-loving, law-abiding families.

Sans did more thinking than most people realized. He had a lot of thoughts and opinions on things, he just… wasn’t very good at expressing them. He didn’t like talking— not even with his brother. Sometimes Paps didn’t really listen to him. That was particularly the case with Sans’ suggestions about how they could get out of the mob. He’d hatched several plans, but Paps told him they were too risky. It was best, he said, that they stay where they had money and power and could live comfortably.

Sans didn’t find the mob life particularly comfortable.

Quite the opposite— it felt stifling. And Paps wasn’t helping. He tried to stop Sans from talking to women— or, fun women, at least— because he had his own idea of what kind of girls Sans should be talking to. Girls in the mob, who were raised to be boring and submissive, and to lie through their teeth to avoid bothering their boyfriends. Being with someone who’d basically been trained like a dog to only do what would make him happy would just make him feel like trash.

Besides, if he married some mob boss’s girl, then there would only be more incentive for them to stay. And he didn’t want incentive to stay.

“Sans?”

Oh shit.

Sans would recognize that voice anywhere. It was so… silky. He looked over and sure enough, there you were, a shopping bag in your hand. Probably having bought a dress for one of those fancy parties folks in the mob loved so much.

Sans hated you.

Well, he hated you because he liked you. You were exactly the kind of girl he didn’t want, and yet at the same time, you were everything he wanted in one… really sexy package.

Talking to you was a really bad idea. So he just tipped the brim of his hat slightly, looking away in an attempt to look uninterested. “Heya, doll.”

Much to his dismay, you sat next to him on the bench and smiled. The way you moved drew attention to your curves…. Were you doing it on purpose?

“It’s good to see you,” you told him. A playful smile. “I was feeling bonely.”

Sans tried— and failed— to stop himself from laughing a bit. Fuck, you were funny too….

“So?” You batted your lashes-- it was clearly playful, but it still made his soul flutter slightly, and he inwardly cursed himself for it. “How are you?”

You were smirking. He was pretty sure you reveled in driving him insane.

“Not as good now that you’re here,” he returned, and you snickered. Why was it cute?

“Aww,” you said. “I’m hurt.”

Sans didn’t reply, just forced himself to look away, despite how much he enjoyed looking at you.

“Hey.”

He turned just a little, raising a brow. You had a massive grin on your face.

“Knock knock.”

He blinked and did his best not to look alarmed. Goddammit, no.

Not a knock knock joke.

“You’re supposed to say ‘Who’s there,’” you teased.

Fine. He would indulge you. The joke probably wouldn’t be that funny anyway. “Who’s there?”

“Nana.”

“Nana who?”

“Nana your business.”

Before he could even try to stop himself he snorted loudly, slapping his knee a little. “That was fuckin’ stupid, doll.”

“That’s why it’s funny.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Aw, c’mon. You agree with me. Admit it.”

Your tone was so smug. Dammit, he was terrible at pretending he didn’t like you, wasn’t he?

“Besides, yours are dumber.” You nudged him. “C’mon, tell me one. You always have some.”

His face grew warm. He wasn’t used to people wanting to hear his jokes. Sure, making people groan was half the fun, but… making you laugh…

After an attempt at a nonchalant shrug, he said, “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Cash.”

“Cash who?”

“Nah thanks, I prefer walnuts.”

You snorted and gave a giggle. Sans didn’t notice his smile soften. What he would give to make you laugh like that more often….

If only you weren’t in the mob.

He was lost enough in thought that he didn’t notice when you began to slip into his lap, only when you were about halfway in it. It wasn’t inherently sexual, but Sans’ mind was the type to go into the gutter easily, and… His face grew hot, and you raised a brow.

“Oh my, someone gets turned on a bit easily, huh?”

His face only got hotter. “S’just a blush,” he protested.

You clearly didn’t believe him, but you shrugged, still smiling. “Oh, alright. My mistake.”

“Yeah,” he said, furious that his face was still warm. “Yer mistake--”

“I’m sure you won’t mind if I do this then.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, giving him a wink, and he could feel himself growing warm… somewhere else.

“Y’know my brother wouldn’ be happy if he saw you here like this.” He kept his own hands from touching you, holding them out so that if Paps did suddenly show up for no discernible reason, he would see that Sans was clearly not reciprocating.

“Well too bad for him.” You leaned up, getting closer. “You can make your own decisions.” With a slight purr in your voice, you added, “You’re a big boy.”

You were close enough now that Sans could hear you even when you spoke softly.

“I’m sure there’s all kinds of things a big boy like you could do to a tiny girl like me….”

Why did everything about you… your voice, your body, your eyes… have to appeal so much to his most base instincts…?

And why’d you have to be so… wonderful?

“Just one kiss?” you whispered.

Sans didn’t protest when you pressed your soft, perfect lips against his teeth. In fact, he wrapped both arms around you, returning the affection. Your hands cupped his face and the touch sent shocks of electricity through him. He growled, his more aggressive instincts beginning to surface.

“Baby,” he purred, and you kissed him again, with more fervor this time. His hands went to your waist, and his mind began to slip into an incredibly racy fantasy. “Baby, I’m gonna…”

“You’re gonna what?” you asked, clearly excited.

His mind indulged itself in some very vivid imagery and he thought of a dirty response. He let out a predatory growl again, opening his eyes so he could make eye contact…

And then he realized what he was doing. He paused.

When he didn’t respond, you breathed, “What are you going to do to me, Sans?” and the primal part of him immediately started to dive back into its very explicit daydream, but the logical part of his mind managed to reel the rest of him in.

“I’m gonna… move ya back onto the bench,” he answered lamely, gently pushing you off his lap. Your flushed face (fuck, it was hot) quickly started to return to its usual color and you blinked, looking confused. Still, you complied, and to his surprise, looked away.

“Sorry,” you said. He wanted to tell you that yes, you should be, but instead it took all of his energy not to so much as put a hand on your shoulder. As much as he didn’t want to, he did like you.

Why did he have to like you?

“I, uh… jus’ gotta go, s’all,” he said, standing up. He turned away and tipped the brim of his hat. “See ya, dollface.”

“Actually…”

He looked back over, a brow raised in suspicion, to see that your more mischievous smile had returned. Oh, what now?

“It’s getting dark,” you told him, getting up and picking up your shopping bag. “And I think that, being the small and helpless little lady I am… I could use an escort home?”

Sans felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. “Yeah? Worried for your safety?”

“Of course. The city’s big, and full of… unsavory characters.” You put a hand over your heart in mock fear. “One of them could get me, and… do things to me.” Another wink, and a sly smile. Sans struggled not to let himself slip into more fantasies. Thankfully, your mock concern was funny enough to keep him more or less grounded.

“Well,” he said, playing along with a shrug. “We can’t have that. I s’pose it would only be gentlemanly of me to take you home.”

“Yes, it would. And we both know you’re quite the gentleman.”

“Always.” His grin had returned-- in fact, he could swear he was grinning even more than usual-- and he held out his arm. “Madame?”

You locked arms with him, beaming. “Merci,” you said, and he laughed. All thoughts of avoiding you were ignored.

He was too busy having fun to care.

[marvelfansince08love]

Our own underground kingdom

Word Count: 1903 

Pairing: Wilhelmina Venable x Fem!Reader 

Warning: A lil angsty, soft Mina. 

Prompts: 2,5,17 - “The only thing I have left is you”, “My only fear is losing you”  “I can’t live.. Not without you”

Setting: Six months before the apocalypse, Mina is aware of Michael being the Antichrist but hasn’t met him in person.  

A/N: For anon, I hope you enjoy! x  @muted-stoneheart​ thank you for reading over this for me, thanks again bubbles! 

Also bonus points for anyone who picks on a certain quote said by the woman herself (I couldn’t help myself) lmao. Still in a slight love/hate relationship with this. 

Permanent tags and a few who i thought might enjoy it : @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @saucy-sapphic​ @coconutlipss​  @stevenuniversetanzanite​

Prompts 2,5,17

“You want us to move where because of what?!” You exclaim, looking dumbfounded at a desperate Wilhelmina. She clutches her cane in front of her, brown eyes begging you to understand as you both stand opposite one another in your shared apartment. 

“To Central California, we’ll be safe there. I have it all planned out, I got two tickets that gives us access to a safe facility known as Outpost 3. My bosses may be coked up narcissists but they like me enough and know I’d be able to run the place well but I… I won’t do it without you Y/n. I need you onboard with this, please understand this is a matter of life and death.” She pleads reaching forward to take your hand. You hold your hand up in front, stopping her advance. 

“Mina baby, you are not making any sense. You are telling me that in as little as six months time the world is going to end in smoke and fire and you want us to go live underground with rich strangers until what.. Everything goes back to normal again. I don’t understand what you are asking and you’re scaring me,” You inform her quietly, trying to process this new information that your girlfriend has given you. 

You and Mina have been dating for nearly two years and in all that time you’ve never seen her look so terrified yet excited at the same time. You saw the glint in her eye when she first told you of her master plan to escape the upcoming apocalypse and to rule over one of the six outposts that were being built for the rich while the poor died from the nuclear bombs or worse. You understood that Mina’s empathy for others has always run thin, you were one of the few if not the only one who Mina truly cared for. You watch her take a deep breath in before releasing it in frustration, her eyes flash slightly at your lack of understanding and enthusiasm. 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you Y/N. All I ask is that you pack a few items.. Maybe that pretty lavender lingerie number that I bought you last year for your birthday and I’ll figure out the rest. Please baby don’t make me beg you…” She asks, her tone soft yet demanding. Her eyes dart away from yours suddenly finding the kitchen marble interesting, her voice like a whisper that echoes across the room to your ears.

“I can’t live… not without you.” She confesses, still unwilling to meet your surprised gaze. You knew Mina loved you even if she rarely said it out loud, see Mina showed you love with affection, personal gifts and allowing you to see her deepest scars and insecurities behind closed doors while making love but her confession shocked you nevertheless.

“Mina I’m not saying I wouldn’t go with you. This just all seems a bit crazy, I mean your bosses selling their souls to the devil who happens to have a son who's roaming the earth right now planning to destroy it and pretty much everyone on it. Tell me you understand my hesitance.” You murmur, walking towards her and delicately lifting her chin up with your finger forcing her to look at you. Her big brown eyes stand out behind her framed glasses as you go to remove them from her face, knowing she’s probably forgot that she’s still wearing them. She blinks a few times adjusting to the new sight while muttering a quick ‘thanks’. She leans her cane against the nearby chair before placing her hands on either side of your hips pushing you back slightly guiding you to the breakfast island behind you, indicating for you to hop on top so she can stand in between your legs comfortably. 

“I know it’s a lot to process, I get it.. It took me a while to wrap my head around it but being around those two nutcases every damn day made it easier to understand why they didn’t have a soul, the rest just followed through. Baby this is a good opportunity for us, just imagine you and me ruling our own little underground kingdom, how satisfying does that sound hmm. I’m not embarrassed to say, it gives me a tingle.” She whispers brushing her nose against yours, her voice huskier at the thought of you standing by her side as she bends the guests to her very wimp as they beg for their life after disobeying the rules. 

You roll your eyes at her idea of fun and being slightly turned on at the thought of being in control of others. 

“But what about the rest of the world? Families Mina torn apart, children unable to grow up and become incredible people.who could go on to discover a new element or become the next president. Just gone, tiny specks of dust in the ground because some guy decided so.” You argue back, she pulls back a little so she can lock gazes with you dumbfound by your resilience. 

“This isn’t just ‘some guy’ sweetheart, we are talking about the son of satan and all things hellish.” Mina ridicules, shaking her head at your ignorance. 

“Have you met this man? Have you seen with your own two eyes what he is capable of?” You question, watching a flicker of hesitance cross her features confirming your answer without any words being spoken. Now it's your turn to look dumbfounded as you try to understand her eagerness to believe such nonsense. 

“Just as I thought. Mina, this man could be insane and those two dipshits have only three things on their minds robotics, cocaine and pussy. You really wanna believe all this?” She nods her head with determination. 

“I really do believe it. I’ll show you the planning if you like? I just need you on board with this Y/N. I can live with myself if the rest of the world dies out but baby, not you, never you. The only thing I have left is you, so i need you to come with me.” She speaks honestly, placing her hands on either side of your face wanting you to understand her. 

“Show me the plans first Mina, then I will decide” You compromise, still feeling ridiculous that you are indulging her proposition. She smiles satisfied with your answer knowing it was the closest thing to a yes she was going to get out of you for now before she pulls away completely, moving towards her cane and heading for the kitchen door, she turns her head towards you, her face serious. 

“I’ll show you the plans and I’ll prove to you that what i’m telling you isn’t some bullshit story to scare you, I’m not crazy dear.” She vows, continuing on her journey. Leaving you sat on top of the kitchen island, mind reeling from the information given to you. You know deep down somewhere that what Mina’s telling you is true. That woman is a realist who laughs at the thought of magic and spells, always believing in the science of things, never one to open her mind to more powerful beings. So there you sat waiting for her to fight her corner and prove to you that what she’s telling you is real and the idea of her mostly being right terrifies you. 

But I’d go anywhere with her, even to run away from death itself. 

***

“Jesus Mina and these are all the plans?” You mutter, looking closely at Mina’s tablet as you both sit at the wooden desk in her home office. The fireplace crackling to the side of you both, the light from the flames giving Mina’s side profile a soft glow of orange. As she leans over your shoulder, her finger sliding and tapping away on the tablet, showing you the other locations and its members. 

“Yes, we have full access to all construction work as well. Millions of dollars have gone into this Y/N, those A-listers you see right there all know what’s going to happen. Do you think they feel guilty? Of course not.” Mina reprimands, scoffing in disgust. 

“You could have gotten us into the outpost in Hawaii at least, baby,” You halfheartedly teased, still trying to process an actual response. Mina growls quietly and nipples underneath your earlobe before whispering in your ear. 

“What and have you drooling over Johansson, I don’t think so. I want you all to myself.” The possessive tone makes you roll your eyes in good nature. 

“So what do you think?” She asks into your ear, you hear the slight hesitancy in her voice making you turn your head to the side and placing a reassuring kiss to her cheek. 

“I have one condition. You promise that you will tell me everything, from any changes to new developments. I want to know Mina, don’t keep secrets from me. I still don’t fully trust this cooperative or whatever they want to be called, especially that guy who claims to be the antichrist.” You enforce wanting her to understand that although you are agreeing to this you still have your reservations. 

“Of course baby. We’re in this together darling, now about that little number… think you could put it on so we can celebrate our new move properly,” She hints before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. “So demanding.” you tease against her lips. Before you can continue with your heated makeout session Mina pinches the side of your hip making you jump slightly in the chair and yelp “Hey!” eyeing her fingers before locking eyes with her chocolate brown eyes, she smirks before replying “I won’t ask again, dear. You know where the closet is”.

With that you jump out of the chair and walk seductively out of the room before calling over your shoulder cheekily. 

“See you in five minutes, my love” 

***

As you lie beneath Mina, bodies glistening in the afterglow of your love making, you look up into those brown eyes above you as they sparkle with delight and admiration. Her forearms leaning on either side of her head, nose brushing eskimo kisses along your own. 

“My only fear is losing you, Y/N. I hope you realise that.” She confesses, eyes wet with unushered tears as she collapses on top of you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck as you clutch onto one another. 

“Of course I do, Mina. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you either,” You reply, capturing her lips with your own in a heated kiss. You both moan in unison, loving the feeling of each other's soft lips seeking the love and comfort we share for one another. Once you pull back and settle into your new position, Mina’s head leaning against your chest where she loves to hear your heart beating steadily beneath her ears. 

“We will watch the world burn bright together and bring in this new world while making love in our own hideaway, my love.” She breathes, against your naked chest nuzzling her nose against your exposed skin.

And for the first time tonight, you were looking forward to spending your days in your own little kingdom with the redhead. As long as you have her, you’ll be content for the rest of your days no matter how long or short that might be. 

If you would like to be added to the tag list, just ask! 

[another-stark-sub]

oh my god. i was wondering when a tony of would pass across my dash. yus!!! if you're still doing hc's id love to see tony with a young, very sexually explorative s/o. if you want. if not thank you just for existing.

Yes! I am here for all Tony dreams, so I’m glad you found me. (Also all of my mutuals have some good Tony stuff too) also young, sexually explorative s/o??? Youre speaking my language! 18+ stuff ahead!

Ok, Tony is a playboy. Was. Even though he’s not really into sleeping with a different woman every night, every single time he’s seen with any girl, the press automatically assumes said girl is pregnant or a sugar baby or a callgirl

So, when he and you decided to be a thing, he was terrified. He loved you, but he was much older than you.

The first time he saw you, he mentally made a vow that he would never sleep with you. He cared about you too much to sleep with you.

So the first few months of the relationship are hidden from the public. Secret dates inside the Tower, outings in foreign countries, anonymous gifts sent to your office that were extravagant but not “Im-dating-a-millionaire” expensive

It was sweet

And while you loved the sweet part, you also had needs. I mean, this man has videos of himself doing things in the bedroom leaked online, and while you did avoid that out of privacy and respect, it irked you that some insane fans of your boyfriends could see his dick and you couldn’t

Tony Stark is an insanely attractive man, according to literally everyone including People and GQ. And he wouldn’t take any of your hints. 

Sucking on a straw much more than you needed to, fleeting touches against his ass or crotch, a suggestive comment  here or there

But nope!

Tony Stark, previously known as one of America’s fuckboys, would not sleep with you

So you came to the only conclusion you could

Break him. 

being Tony Stark’s girlfriend meant you knew his schedule. So, on your day off, instead of going out for lunch by yourself before meeting Tony at his place, you went to his place 

You took to your guest bedroom and masturbated. You teased yourself the best way you knew how, and you even brought some toys. A dildo or two, some handcuffs in case he was into that, a vibrator, a blindfold. You had contemplated bringing rope but you haven’t done that yet, and you weren’t ready for Tony to see that side yet. 

Tony came back. And in the elevator, Jarvis informed him. “Sir, she’s already here.”

“Really?” He was snacking on some blueberries. “What’s she doing here already?”

“I’m afraid I can’t show you what she’s doing.”

Tony raised his eyebrow. “Who invented you again, Jarvis?”

“You did, sir.”

“So, show me what’s she’s doing.”

“It would be a breach of privacy, sir.” 

Tony was confused. “Breach of privacy. What could she be doing that’s so-”

The elevator doors opened, and he could hear you. Your high-pitched moan. The gasp of his name afterwards. 

Those two seconds of sounds made him hard. God, you were going to be the death of him.

So, when he reaches your bedroom, the door was open by the way, and sees you, still fully clothed, with one hand between your legs and the other squeezing your tits over your top, he froze. 

He gulped and tried to regain his composure. “Honey?”

You gasped. “Hi,” you moaned. “Tony, hi.” You whined, your attention too shot to focus on him. “Sorry,” you said, “Just had to -ah fuck- take care of something.” You bit your lip as you moaned. “You know?”

“Fuck.” Tony shook his head. “Yeah, I get it.” He sniffed and tried to play this off as cool as he could, but damn, you were right there pleasuring yourself and he wanted to be the one doing that to you.

You stopped your ministrations. You caught your breath and in your lustful haze, you asked, “Wanna help me?”

“Yes.” He dropped everything and climbed on top of you. “You shouldn’t tease me like that, sweetheart.”

You pouted. “You’ve never touched me.”

“I know.” He caressed your cheek and admitted, “You’re just... I’m so old.” he laughed. “I wasn’t sure if you-”

“I want you, Tony.” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I want you, and I swear if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Are you making demands?”

“Yes!”

He blinked. “Well, maybe if you explain that.” He looked to the door, where his stuff and yours were. Correction, his things and your toys. “Maybe then, I’ll indulge you, hm?”

“Promise?”

“If you tell me what those are, I’m gonna fuck you here, out there, everywhere until you beg me to stop.”

You started growing hot again at the thought of finally having sex with Tony. Not only that, but having sex with Tony while he talks like that to you and fucks you in every room on the floor. You gulped. “They’re toys. I just thought, maybe, we could try those?”

He hummed, his lips dangerously close to yours. “And what toys do you have?”

“A-A vibrator.” 

“Mm, go on.” His hand went down from your waist to your thigh, hiking it up to wrap around his hip. 

“Two dildos.”

“Your favorites?” He rubbed your clit through your underwear and you gasped.

“Aw, you got so wet thinking about me.” He watched as you whimpered and writhed underneath him. “Anything else in that bag?”

Through gasps, you said, “Blinfold. I brought -Tony!- a blindfold.”

“Ok.” He plunged two fingers into you, and they were so much bigger than your own. “Come on, you’re not telling me anything, princess. I can only fuck you if you tell me everything.”

Trying to not concentrate on his fingers in your pussy, you finally got to the last item you brought, “Handcuffs, Tony! Fuck, please.”

Just like that, his fingers were gone, and he was only above you. Not even touching you. “Hm, interesting, so my girl pretty dirty then, huh?”

Your eyes were wide as he licked the fingers that were inside you. “I love that.” He smacked his lips together before taking off his overcoat. “Got a safeword, sweetheart?”

“Uh.” So dizzy from his actions and from seeing his shirt go off to expose his chest. Not rock hard abs or anything, but god was he good looking, and that trail of hair that went beneath his pants.

“Baby, I need a safeword.”

“Blueberries?”

He smirked. “Blueberries it is.” He sealed his promise with a searing kiss

Safe to say, neither of you could forget that afternoon. Or night. Or very early morning. And the morning after.

It’s Smutty Saturday! Send me some headcanon prompts!

[bruh-haikyuu]

Hello! May I request a sfw scenario where Asahi has to unexpectedly share a bed with his crush for the first time? Thank you so much!

A/N: God I read like 5 shoujo manga and a doujin to fuel myself for this. I hope you enjoy, anon!

contretemps. | azumane asahi

word count: 1758

warnings: none

(n.) an unexpected and unfortunate occurrence

Asahi wanted to bash his head against the wall. Committing seppuku just won’t cut for it—he wanted to make sure he died from the inside out, writhing in all sorts of pain.

It was super embarrassing.

It was his fault that you two had to miss the shinkansen back to Miyagi. He just had to leave his ticket in the restaurant. And you just had to help him run back to the place to retrieve it.

“Don’t worry about it, Azumane-san. It’s my duty as the class rep to help you, after all,” you had told him repeatedly, a smile gracing your features.

It wasn’t very assuring. In fact, it didn’t help Asahi calm down at all. You could’ve been in the train with everyone else by now, asleep and with all your other friends. But here you were on the phone with your homeroom teacher, explaining the situation to her in a calm demeanor that made Asahi’s forehead bead with sweat.

How could you be so calm? You were two high school students stuck in Osaka, a long way away from home. And one of you looked like a criminal who was about to pull some kind of weapon out of his pocket and shoot everyone dead.

Asahi really just wanted to vanish.

It did help a bit to think that at least he was stuck with you. If it had been Hattori-san or Aoi instead, Asahi would have to live the rest of his life in eternal shame. He considered himself lucky, but you probably felt unfortunate with him around…

Asahi glanced at you a tenth time from where he was waiting, your ears still pressed to the receptionist’s phone, in deep conversation with your teachers.

You seemed much more reliable than he did. More mature. More responsible. Geez, were you two really the same age?

“Azumane-san?”

Asahi looked up to see you smiling at him at close proximity. “A-ah, L/N-san. You’re done?”

“Yeah. I called the teachers and my parents. All our overnight expenses will be covered by the school but the ticket for the train tomorrow will be on us. Did you inform your family yet?”

“Y-yeah…”

“You got scolded too, huh?”

Asahi’s bit the insides of his cheek, the voice of his mother’s nagging echoing in his head. “…Yeah.”

And you laughed. Laughed a bubbly laugh that made butterflies erupt from the furthest pit of Asahi’s stomach. He sighed, he was never going to survive a night with you.

“Sorry again for putting you through this. I really am the worst person you could’ve gotten stuck with…”

“That’s alright. I’m class rep, right? I gotta take care of my classmates!”

God, your smile was perfect. “What about the lodgings? Did we manage to get a room?”

He saw you flinch, a light pink dusting your cheeks. “Well… I did manage to get the last room they had, but…”

When your lips formed the last words of your sentence, Asahi felt the entire world fall apart, build itself back together, rinse and repeat. This was straight out of his younger cousins’ mangas. But he seemed so far off from a shoujo protagonist. So, so far.

“And so, we’ll be sharing a single bed room. Is that alright with you?”

His heart was beating out of his chest. Someone had to pick it up before it exploded like an anticipating time bomb, but Asahi was way too stunned to breathe. Exploding heart to hell, everything about the situation screamed Asahi, you pervert! He really wished he had held onto his ticket tighter.

“I-I was the one who caused this entire mishap, so… I should be the one asking that to you.”

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged.

“I see… then please, allow me to accommodate the sofa in our room tonight.”

You furrowed your brows indignantly.

“No, no, no! I’ll sleep on the sofa, you can have the bed, Azumane-san.���

“I insist. This entire thing was my fault.”

“Geez, I’m the class rep. For me, it’s my classmates first.”

“If you keep saying that about yourself, it’ll come back to bite you in the end… is what my grandmother told me.”

“Like I said, I’m taking the sofa!”

“No, I am!”

It was exhausting, but Asahi would rather eat cement than make you sleep on a rock-hard couch. Your endless exchange went on for a while until—

“E-excuse me?” you turned around to see the petite receptionist flash you an awkward smile.

“Please refrain from making a ruckus in the lobby.”

The both of you bowed with speed, effectively knocking your heads together, causing a few giggles to erupt amongst the hotel guests.

Man, Asahi thought, this is the worst.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

In the end, Asahi had won against you in the sofa argument, virtually prompting to have the single bed all to yourself. It was the first time that night that Asahi had felt victorious.

Daichi was already spamming his inbox with a three message-long lecture—Asahi supposed there wasn’t any way that he could join volleyball practice tomorrow with the current circumstances. A scolding from his parents, the teachers, the principal when he gets back and most likely your parents too. He kind of deserved it.

But the entire time, you didn’t looked annoyed at all. In fact, you completely indulged in the situation. His experience with his friends being that if this had occurred to them instead of you, he’d be left out on the balcony to be eaten by crows. Curiosity flooded him to the brim—you were certainly an interesting person.

Hanging the hotel towel on the railings in the bathroom, you returned to the central space where Asahi was already adjusting to a comfortable position on the leather sofa. With your hair down, droplets of water crowning your head, you looked like an entirely different person but yet you still had the same halo of an angel around you.

Asahi thanked Jesus and Buddha for this opportunity.

“Good night, Azumane-san.”

“Right. G’night, L/N-san.”

Just like that it was lights off.

He wished he could’ve gotten a better image of you looking so relaxed; it might’ve been his last time after all. The both of you were already in your third year and it was only a few months until you’d be in different places, doing God knows what… Asahi felt an oncoming headache from the thought.

Cutting through the images in his head, a flash of white suddenly illuminated the sheer curtains separating the room from the windows. Not even a few moments later, a boom rattled outside, followed by a high-pitched squeak coming from under the sheets of the single bed.

You were shaking.

Shaking so hard that the bed looked like it was trembling with you. Asahi couldn’t see you under the covers of the velvety duvet, but it didn’t take much effort for him to know that your eyes were screwed tightly in attempt to block out the spark.

Lightning struck again and this time, you whimpered loudly.

“L/N-san?! Are you alright?” against his own bodily will, Asahi jumped to the side of the bed, immediately crouching on the floor to observe you at eye’s level.

You answered with a brisk whine, slightly muffled by the harsh onslaught of rain knocking at the walls.

“L/N-san… you’re afraid of it, aren’t you?” his mouth was moving on its own, saying things he knew he shouldn’t be saying so casually. “You’re afraid of lightning.”

The stare you gave him was incredulous. Wide-eyed and astonished but all the same, it reflected the eyes of someone who understood your apprehension. Silence lingered in the air as the rain reached its crescendo. Breaking it, you spoke.

“My older sister would usually be there to hold me during a storm. It’s childish, I know. But it’s just so terrifying for me—the sounds and the lights… I don’t like it. I hate it so much.”

You looked so vulnerable in the frame of shadows. So small and afraid, someone Asahi would take a bullet for just to stop their tears.

“D-do you want me to hold you?”

Asahi did a double take. What was he, possessed?! You were going to see him as a pervert now. He wanted to vomit at the thought of you avoiding him for the rest of his life. Sure, he could live with being miles away from you, but the notion of being miles away from you because he had let some words slip out of his mouth was insanely out of proportion.

“Would you, Azumane-san?” Now, you were possessed?!

Fear still flitted in your eyes, but now, there was a glint of hope in them. A hope that Asahi would die to reach for.

“Huh? A-are you sure that—”

“Please.”

Air filled his lungs, making his chest rise. Asahi didn’t blink once as he nodded in silence; he didn’t want to miss out on a single second of this opportunity. Not a chance.

You scooted over on the bed, making space for him to slide next to you under the sheets. Having his large body occupy most of the mattress as compared to your smaller figure, Asahi blushed in the loom of the dark. All the blood rushing to his face even made the next flash of light outside the window go unnoticed.

“Azumane-san!” you hid your face in his arm, your own arms flying to grab ahold of him.

Was this illicit activity? You were both underaged and most definitely not in the right relationship for things like this to occur. It seemed so wrong. If anyone caught you in this compromising situation, Asahi would shoot himself dead, no doubt about it. But for now, he just wanted to make up for all the trouble he gave you that night, even if it cost him his dignity.

Fingers gently combing through your locks, the pads of his fingers just slightly kissed your scalp. It was a mere act, but it had so much effect on you. Your jagged breathing slowed and you were able to slacken your iron grip on him. It was just like your sister but in a way, Asahi was worlds different.

Rain pelting down endlessly, you pressed your face harder into the cotton shirt that divided you from his skin. “Sorry, Azumane-san… and thank you.”

“Y-yeah… s’alright…”

A stray yawn escaping your throat, you sighed into his embrace. “Sleepy… gonna go to sleep… night… Azumane…-san…”

Just like that, Asahi had to fight back a squeal when you finally surrendered to slumber.