#also for the first time ever i somehow made a hole in the fabric while sewing a dart. and where did that happen? yes: on his face

[sovonight]

squashed

it's taken 2 months to get to this point but i'm finally making some progress :')

[silkscreaming]

I made a volume 10 trimax vash cosplay for MAGfest and I am SO proud of how it came out :) Some process stuff below! Warning for image and text heavy.

Truthfully this cos is only about 85% complete—I’d purchased a bunch of hardware to really go in on a volume accurate version of his undersuit and belts, but simply ran out of time before the con. It was the first cosplay I’ve sewn since 2017 and the first wig styling I’ve done since 2020, so I’m not gonna beat myself up too much!

(This is all purse hardware off Etsy and some buttons from M&J trim)

This was my first time ever making a muslin mock-up, but I knew it was going to be necessary to get the coat to lay the way I wanted it to. I really wanted to try and create proportions that elongated the legs/torso and widened the shoulders by placing the coat tail splits appropriately and raising up the shoulders with some padding. And of course arm and leg details that I’ll get to someday lol.

I created two mock-ups. One of basic muslin that helped me go from an existing pre-bought pattern to something more Vash-shaped, then a second one on a slightly sturdier scrap fabric with my finalized torso proportions with padding so I could accurately pattern out the sleeves and collar.

I was tracing my pattern pieces onto newsprint and vellum as I went, so once all of those were finalized, it was time to cut my fabric! I used a heavy cotton twill from B&J fabrics and two kinds of fusible interfacing from Mood (I’m spoiled by being local to the fashion district these days). A smarter person would have bought a thinner fabric to line the inner torso with, but I did not feel like getting that complicated with my first ever muslin-drafted AND lined project, so I simply cut double of every pattern piece in order to create a lining.

Sleeves were done by interfacing and cutting into a top panel, carefully snipping at the cutout portions, ironing and fabritacking in place, and then top stitching the whole piece to the main sleeve. I later added some leather backing squares and interfacing behind the larger eyelets for aesthetic while keeping the ventilation in tact. Ideally in the future I'll also add a strip of fabric to the gun arm that creates a slight bunching effect since that sleeve is a little more ruffled over the cuff. Photos below also include three shoulder pads pinned together on each shoulder, but I ended up forgetting not using them on my final wear.

Unfortunately at this point I was approaching con time, so I started cutting some corners that I made easily replaceable for future upgrades. The coat tabs are just painted craft foam cut to the size of the buttons, tacked in place where the button pierces through the tab and where it wraps around the edge of the front panel. The straps that attach to the lapel and wrap under the arms also were just decorated with some silver trim instead of hardware, and I skipped the side button panels at his hips for pattern-making simplicity and time. They'll be added later! I'd also love to do some weathering, but don't think I can quite bring myself to riddle the coat tails with bullet holes as some people do haha.

Gun arm attachment was also a quick and dirty addition, just some vinyl trim on eva foam attached with contact cement and a decorative button. First time working with contact cement somehow, but I look forward to also being able to upgrade this at a later date to a more accurate shape with the full belt attachments!

I was also hoping to update the shoes a bit by making some boot covers for them and rub-n-buffing the soles to disguise the platform a bit, but I love my pick for the cleat-look that Vash has! Some good ol' Demonias in classic vash fashion :)

Last but not least: The Wig. My pride and joy.

I got lucky enough to nab an Arda sale, I think right before Halloween, and picked up the Morpheus lace front in black, along with some extra wefts in pale blonde. (I also bought a whole separate pale blonde Morpheus wig, boldly thinking I could swing a normal trimax vash wig lol. It made for a convenient Eriks wig in the mean time.)

Since I was aiming for the end of volume 10 post-Wolfwood death look, I started by trying on the wig, roughly tracing out my hairline, then gently unweaving that portion of black in order to re-ventilate it with blonde.

After I replaced that whole strip of plucked hair, I tried on again to finalize where I needed to ventilate to cover my own hairline, and completed my outline with both blonde and brown-black wefts (i had them on hand lol). All in all, I ventilated more than 4 square inches of blonde, and at least a solid centimeter extension of the black hairline across the whole front of the wig. Probably close to 30 hours of work in the ventilating alone, but I am a little slow since I haven't ventilated in a few years and didn't keep clear track of time.

If there's one thing I should be used to by now about Arda wigs, they are THICK. There is zero teasing in this wig. None. Just got2b, a blowdryer, and a prayer. And a good load of bobby pins. The wig was also sadly a last minute hotel room mad dash, and I do hope to restyle it under less duress, but I do think I successfully achieved the Trimax swoop and am very proud of it! It was unbelievably windy on the walk from our hotel room to MAGfest, so the photos in the start of this post show a bit more droop than my initial styling, but I think I'll be able to touch things up next wear.

And of course, shoutout to my partner for gifting me the official glasses for Christmas :) And thank you to my roommates who barely saw me for a month and a half except for when I needed help with a hem lol.

All in all, I am unbelievably proud of this cosplay, I can't wait to put some more love into it and wear it again!

[bitterkarmaa]

Ok so sorry! Its my first time on Tumblr!

13: Eclipse is a part of the Kill Code from Moon and Idk how you see it, but the influence from this and also the pressure from the Star could become quite difficult sometimes. Moon should know the problem of keeping the balance or upper hand.

No worries!! It took me a while to figure it all out too :) welcome to hell!!

“When is this going to get easier?”

-Moon & Eclipse-

Eclipse told himself many lies. He knew some of the deceptions he fed himself were merely made for comfort, considered a coping mechanism to those more emotionally intelligent than he was. Lunar mentioned it offhand a few times, and Sun gave him looks that suggested his own agreement, but he never truly took those words into serious consideration. It felt burdening, to mull over the extent of his life and all that he’s done over the course of it. It reminded him of things he tires himself trying to avoid.

But sometimes, he gets caught up in those thoughts. Those aching reminders that float from one side of his head to another, always able to find the right spot to take all his focus at the worst time possible. Certain days, those sometimes become all times, constantly battling against him as he struggles to keep his composure against the incessant plague that haunts his mind. It’s utterly exhausting.

On those days, Moon always manages to find him somehow. May it be by chance or badly hidden worried intent, Moon always finds him.

Today is a bad day. A day filled with memories and reminders that sting at every wound he’s ever had, the ache in his chest becoming worse the more he lays, his own mind threatening to consume him.

Blood Moon isn’t here, currently, having gotten Eclipse’s word that he would still be there when they returned from their hunt. At first, he thought nothing of it- Blood Moon had their own things to do, he understood that. Respected it, even. However, once his head managed to get it’s grubby hands on whatever coherence he had, he instantly regretted letting them go.

And now, here he lays: under the blankets, trembling so much that the mere thought of standing makes him dizzy and nauseous. Despite his inherent weakness, his claws clutch vainly at the bed sheets, grasping so hard that they run holes into the fabric.

Oh, how his mind drags him on, teaching him the steps to a dance he already knows, but loathes all the same.

“KC!”

Eclipse stiffens for the hundredth time today, eyes growing wider the deeper he falls into the memory.

“KC! YOU CAN’T LET THEM DO THIS!!”

His systems begin to overheat, vents coming in quick, short intervals that do nothing to prevent his impending panic.

“IT WASN’T MY FAULT!”

He doesn’t hear the door click softly open, doesn’t hear the footsteps that approach him.

“Let him go.”

A hand reaches out to him, hesitating to touch his shaking shoulder.

“LET HIM GO!”

Eclipse jolts backwards, his hand flying up to grasp Moon’s wrist even so. The tips of his claws dig into the soft sleeves of Moon’s outfit, cutting holes into the pristine fabric.

“Eclipse! It’s just me!” Moon shouts, taking a step back after Eclipse registers who it is and that he doesn’t intend to bring any harm, thusly releasing Moon in the process. He shifts further out of Moon’s reach, pressing his back to the wall his bed sits against as Moon gives him a cautious glare.

“What’s your problem?” He snaps after a moment of pause, earning a tired look from Eclipse that almost makes Moon pity him.

“Nothing. Leave.” Eclipse retorts almost immediately, his gaze sharpening into a glare as he forces the exhaustion out of his expression. Moon looks dubious.

“You…can talk to me, you know. I won’t think any less of you, or whatever.”

Moon’s words strike a chord within Eclipse that seems to steal all the words from his mouth, since, for the next few moments, all he can do is stare. It makes no sense. How could he be so careless with his concern? Hasn’t Eclipse hurt him enough?

“Didn’t I tell you to leave?” He says instead, forcing down the nicer reply that festers in his voice box like an open wound. He can tell that his reaction only makes Moon more interested, red eyes focused on Eclipse’s own expression, waiting for the slightest shift or change, like a predator seeking weakness from it’s prey. Eclipse loathed that look. Especially when it was directed at him.

“Yes. And I’m choosing not to listen.” Moon responds in the most curt, sly way possible. Eclipse opens his mouth to change his demand into a threat, but he freezes as Moon steps further into the room, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed.

Eclipse grits his teeth. Why does Moon insist upon testing his patience like this? Doesn’t he understand how hard it is for Eclipse to control his temper? He’s not making his whole ‘redemption’ any easier.

“You have that thinking look on your face.”

Eclipse lifts his gaze, narrowing his eyes at Moon’s statement.

“Maybe because I’m thinking.” He snaps back, shifting further away from the other animatronic. Moon tilts his head the slightest bit.

“About?” He prompts, earning a snarl from Eclipse.

“What is it with you and getting into my business?”

Moon doesn’t seem as intimidated as Eclipse hoped he would be by the former-villains biting tone. Instead, Moon moves closer, agitating Eclipse the moment be begins to stir.

“Get out! Leave me alone! Don’t you know that-“

Eclipse’s words fall short, dying in his voice box with a soft crackle. Moon’s hand rests softly on top of Eclipse’s own- a gentle touch that, for some reason, breaks some of Eclipse’s walls down. He finds himself struggling to find another demand amongst the rubble his anger leaves behind.

“I may not be all that great with emotions and such, but I can tell you’re distressed. I have been told I play a good therapist, so…lay it on me, if you wish.”

Eclipse stares dumbly at him, at a complete loss for words as he analyses Moon’s expression, looking for any hint of mockery. When he sees nothing but sympathy, he finds himself beginning to tear up, of all things, in front of Moon.

“What are you doing? Why are you doing this?” He croaks, reminiscent of a time when he’d been in denial that Moon decided to save him. When the younger animatronic let him lean into the warmth his body no longer produced- when he felt that flicker of safety in the arms of someone he used to consider an enemy.

“It’s alright, Eclipse. It’s okay. I won’t let them hurt you again.”

He breaks down. Before Moon can supply an answer, Eclipse grabs him and pulls him into a hug, sobbing openly into his shoulder as Moon sits in stunned silence, wondering how to comfort him- if he should comfort him, or if he needed these tears to heal something much deeper than he ever could with his words alone.

The words stick like glue to Eclipse’s psyche, the comforting tone of the beast playing on repeat in his head.

But Moon would never know that tone. He only knows the sinister, devilish grin painted on the face of a murderer he thinks has only been seen in his head. What would he do if he knew that KC had a body of its own?

Would he go after it?

The thought only makes him cry harder, gritting his teeth together in an effort to stifle his sobs.

“When is this going to get easier?” Eclipse finds himself asking, shaking hands curling into the fabric of Moon’s shirt. The other animatronic stays silent for a moment, still stunned by Eclipse’s display of vulnerability, though he finds his voice before the situation can further escalate.

“When is what going to get easier?” Moon asks, voice quiet- subdued.

“This! All of this! The emotions, the self-hatred, the constant contradictions that bite back at me for every thought I have- just…just all of it!” Eclipse finds himself saying, words spilling from his mouth before he can even think to stop them. His despair morphs into a familiar type of anger that forces his hands to release Moon, pulling away in favor of vigorously wiping the tears from his face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…he must think so lowly of you now- all these tears, this sadness, a useless venture in front of others! The judgement will be well earned!

“…..I’ve found that it doesn’t really get easier, Eclipse.”

Moon’s reply lacks the disgust that Eclipse expected to hear behind his words, slowly lifting his gaze to focus back on the night-themed jester at his side. His expression is conflicted- not with disdain or frustration, but with empathy and respect. It’s as if this show of emotion from Eclipse offered Moon a different perspective on the other that he hadn’t quite considered before.

The thought brings a slight bit of confusion to Eclipse’s face.

“But…all these changes since you first started to work towards being better…it shows that you’re trying. Personally, I think you’ve really improved since then. Those contradictions and self-hatred show that you regret what you did before. Which means you’re better. Being emotional comes with change, and this is a big change for you. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m…” Moon pauses at that, carefully contemplating before carrying on; “I’m sorry that your mind is retaliating in a way that hurts you. You don’t deserve that. But…you aren’t alone. I find myself lost in the same concepts that you’re struggling with- maybe even for the same reasons, as well. I used to have the same sort of ideals that you did, and it was a long and hard process of breaking those habits. Some of them are still there to this day. Even so, I’ve found that the one true consolation that I have changed is that…people love me. The others listen- they care about what I have to say. Just like I’m sitting here listening to you. You have changed, Eclipse. Your mind may tell you differently, but…it knows you in a different way than I do. You view yourself differently than everyone else does. I’m not saying that you should try and change the way you see yourself, I’m just saying that…it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Eclipse listens in silence, his entire body stiff as a statue. He keeps thinking that Moon will stop and shrug off what he’s saying- make some crude remark to lighten the mood in the darkest way possible, but…he doesn’t. Instead, he just keeps going. With each added word, the tension in his chest eases more.

By the end of Moon’s speech, Eclipse finds himself almost smiling again. The slightest upturn to his mouth, carrying a whisper of hope that doesn’t quite play in his voice box, but touches his core nonetheless.

And, for the first time all day, his mind is at ease. No stretch of gratitude that he could offer would truly encompass the relief he feels at that realization.

“You know…I’d almost assume you think fondly of me after all that.” Eclipse jests, earning a soft, sarcastic sounding chuckle from Moon. But Eclipse can tell it isn’t quite fake- the amusement in Moon’s eyes proves that so.

“Don’t push your luck.” Moon drawls.

When Blood Moon does return later in the day, apologizing profusely for taking as long as they did, they find both Moon and their dad curled up against one another, sleeping soundly in the comfortable silence of the room. The twins can’t help the small, fond smile that rises onto their face as they clamber up onto the bed themselves, snuggling up against Eclipse, stirring their father the slightest bit in doing so.

It doesn’t take long for him to fall back asleep, however, one arm draped over his sons while the other is held captive by Moon’s grip.

[heygerald]

HEART MECHANICS - PART 7/9

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x oc

Matty doesn’t like change. 

Like, at all.

But when things in her life start changing faster than she wants them to with no room to argue, she realizes that sometimes change isn’t so bad. Sometimes, it’s better to finally accept that her old habits aren’t always the best habits, and that maybe, just maybe, some rules are meant to be broken. 

Read the story here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / ... / part 8 / part 9

The parking lot was empty when Matty pulled in. 

Not late, for once, not that there was anyone around to see it though.

She pulled her keys from the ignition while attempting to smooth down her flyaway hairs. A glance in the mirror proved that it was a fruitless mission—nothing less than she deserved for driving too fast down the highway with her top down—and for no real reason at all she made sure to glare at her rearview mirror sourly just to feel a little bit better. 

“At least a hot mess is still hot,” she muttered, popped some strawberry gum into her mouth, and swung out of the vehicle. Her uniform boots had been traded off for a pair of red converse that she had taken the laces out of (lost, actually), and her oil stained overalls had been replaced with a pair of jeans that were more gaping holes than fabric, as well as what had to have been a t-shirt bought in the child’s section at Good Will. 

She didn’t remember ever buying it, but one day it showed up in her laundry basket. It was a little too short on the midriff and faded with bleach in some areas, yeah, but it also had a picture of Optimus Prime with large, neon 90’s style lettering splattered across the front. And, well, Transformers fucking rocked so she gladly accepted whatever stroke of luck had placed it in her possession without asking any hard hitting questions as to its existence. Karma rarely worked on her behalf, anyways; she would take whatever gifts she could get. 

A passing parade of elderly women out on an afternoon stroll clearly didn’t agree if the looks they shot her were anything to go by. One even made a subdued comment about the recent downfall of women’s pride in the twenty-first century to her chubby walking partner. 

“Oh, it’s not mine,” she lied, a little too miffed to do anything else. “It’s, uh, a charity... thing. You know, like, I love boobies? But, um... for children. Raising awareness one conversation at a time. Pride has absolutely nothing to do with how I dress.” 

The tallest woman, the leader at the front of the pack, stuck her nose up in the air at the comment and stormed off—an impressive feat given the size of her ankle weights—and without hesitation the others went as well. They reminded Matty of a flock of flamingoes strutting past something unsavory. 

Which...

Rude. 

“It’s laundry day!” she shouted at their retreating figures, somehow feeling equal parts mortified and offended. They gave no response though; just sent her disgruntled looks over their shoulders before disappearing past the parking lot. She watched them go for a moment before letting her arms clap against her legs in defeat. “Note to self: die before ever reaching… whatever age that is.” 

Mind made up on the matter and feeling slightly better about her life, she turned around, hopped up the deck stairs, and walked inside the empty bar with a snap of her chewing gum.

“We’re closed until five.” 

Well. Mostly empty. Amelia Benjamin, daughter extraordinaire, sat at the bar. 

Matty shot her a too-bright grin and strode closer with another snap of her gum; eyes sweeping the empty restaurant for any sign of Penny. The girl took one look at her conniving grin, however, before promptly returning her attention to the textbook spread out before her. 

“What?” Matty drawled whilst snagging the empty stool at her right. “No hello, Matty, dear friend and role model, how are you? And here I thought the local diner had bad customer service.”  

Amelia sighed out through her nose. Still, Matty caught the way that her lips curled up at the side, even if she tried to hide it behind a flip of her hair. 

“I don’t work here,” she said. “And you’re not my role model.” 

“Wow,” Matty deadpanned, clutching at her heart in mock pain. “That hurts, kid. I thought we were past this, but apparently puberty can turn even the best of friends against each other.” 

The only response Amelia gave was the scrunching of her nose. “Ew.” 

“Yeah, you’re telling me. Just wait a couple of years until you’re a senior in high school, every boy you meet shares exactly one brain cell, you have to deal with both zits and college applications, and the only good beer you can get is Bud Light.” 

Amelia paused in her writing to glance at Matty. “The drinking age is twenty-one.”

“Eh, pretty sure that’s just a recommendation,” Matty said with a shrug. Amelia clearly wasn’t convinced, however, and the blonde completely ignored the look that she was getting to bend over into the younger girl’s space. “Homework?”

“Duh.” 

“Subject?”

“Math.” 

“Gross.”

“Yup.” 

Matty abandoned the elaborate equations written out in neat, swirly lettering to glance around the bar. Math had never been her thing, let alone something she was interested in having to relieve just in hopes of extending a conversation. The kitchen seemed empty, as did the Adirondacks out back, but Penny rarely left her daughter unattended at The Hard Deck. Curious, she asked, “where’s your mom?”

To that, Amelia finally leaned away from her homework. “Out with Pete,” she said, nose scrunching up once more. 

This time, however, it wasn’t directed at Matty, and she couldn’t help but wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. “Ooh la la. Are we expecting her back anytime soon or is this more of a ‘they’re in the middle of playing hide zucchini’ type situation?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Amelia said.

“Oh, well, just imagine that Pete is the zucchini, you know, because he’s got a—” 

“Ugh!” Amelia clapped her hands onto her ears with a terrified shriek. Matty grinned at the reaction, and in response the girl’s terror filled eyes narrowed into slits. “That’s disgusting, Matty! God! Don’t say stuff like that; that’s my mom we’re talking about here.” 

“You do understand the physics of how you got here, right?” Matty poked fun.

Amelia, if possible, turned an even brighter shade of red that was impossible to hide behind her sheet of hair. “I—shut up! That was forever ago and it was with my dad and it definitely wasn’t with—with Pete!” 

“Hey,” Matty drawled, eyebrows arching up towards her hairline as she spotted a nearby jar of cherries. Popping one into her mouth distractedly, she pondered, “what’s so wrong with Mav? He’s a good looking dude. Objectively, anyways. His personality is definitely off putting.” 

“He’s, like, fifty,” Amelia said, as if that explained everything. 

“And you’re, like, fifteen. Give it time, kiddo. Right now you’re probably obsessed with an age appropriate heart throb like, I don’t know, the youth’s equivalent of Mario Lopez or whatever—” 

“Don’t say the youths,” Amelia interrupted her, only to be promptly ignored as Matty chomped on another cherry with her hand waving in the air in a vague gesture even she couldn’t make out.

“And then the next thing you know you’re going to sit down to rewatch The Lord of the Rings and suddenly—wham! The old fucker who plays Elrond is all you can think about at volleyball practice. It becomes this weird obsession thing and now you can’t watch those movies again without mentally asking yourself how much of an age gap you could put up with, which, trust me, can be an upsetting question to answer. Before you know it, decades have passed and you’re no closer to meeting the man of your dreams that you were when you were fifteen, only the man of your dreams is a lot less… dreamy.” 

Amelia blinked at Matty slowly, taking that in. “I honestly didn’t get any of that,” she said. 

Matty, in turn, blinked right back at her. “...so… when did you say your mom would be back?”

“I’m not sure. Definitely by five, but that’s all I know,” she said, shrugging, sighing, staring at her homework with a forlorn expression. A wince crossed her features as she settled her chin onto her left hand despondently. “Hopefully soon. I’m hungry.” 

“Isn’t there a kitchen right back there?”

“No cook.” 

“Damn.” 

“Yup.” 

The two girls—one a slowly growing pre-teen, one an adult who still acted like a pre-teen—both leaned onto the bar with matching sighs of disappointment. Amelia tapped her pencil against her notebook. Matty watched as the clock ticked by, counting the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four— 

“So, do you want to blow off your homework and go get food or…?” Matty blurted out, self-control a record low. Amelia’s pencil paused mid-air as she gave her a surprised look. “I mean, not, like, blow off your homework because it’s still gonna be here when we get back. You know. It can’t walk on its own or anything.”

Amelia’s gaze narrowed. “Can I pick?”

“I suppose.”

“And you’ll pay?”

“What am I, Make a Wish?” she scoffed.

To that, the girl gave a nonchalant shrug and slowly swiveled back to her homework. “Well, if you’re not going to pay, then I suppose I can wait until Mom gets back. But it’ll probably be awhile. You know how Pete can get when he has his motorcycle. I think he took her to some little café up the coast; said they’d be lucky to get back before —”

“Okay, Jesus,” Matty gave in, arms thrown up in the air. “I’ll pay. If I don’t die of boredom, first. But we’re not going anywhere expensive. I’m not made of money, you know. And there’s, like, a recession going on. Pretty sure, anyways.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Amelia said, sliding off of her stool to give Matty a pat on the shoulder. Then, as if that wasn’t dramatic enough, she gave Matty’s outfit a look full of pity and commented, “I’ve seen your phone, Matts. Maybe you should consider writing to Make a Wish.” 

Matty’s jaw was on the floor when the pre-teen sashayed towards the front door. 

She paused only to shoot the blonde an impish smirk. “Are you coming? I’m starving.” 

Then, she promptly stepped out of the bar and made her way towards Matty’s jeep. Another relic that she eyed with a pitying look. In response, Matty took a moment to pick her jaw off the floor before she was exploding out of the building like a bat out of hell.

“There’s nothing wrong with my phone! ” she shouted. “It’s a classic!”

Amelia, already sitting in the passenger seat of her jeep, glanced up from what she was holding in her lap—unfortunately for Matty what she was holding in her lap was the ten year old sleeve of CD’s that was typically clung to the visor. “NSYNC? Seriously? Talk about old.”

“Alright kid, new rule,” she chirped, snatching the CD out of Amelia’s hands. With a glare, she shoved it into the CD player, swung her sunglasses low onto the bridge of her nose, and turned the volume dial to max. “Driver picks the music; passenger shuts her pie hole. Yeah? Now, stop talking, and let me teach you everything there is to know about teenage hormones.” 

Amelia shook her head with a laugh; from the stack of junk that was scattered through Matty’s car, she managed to find a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses that she settled onto her own face. “Just don’t get a speeding ticket, okay? Technically, Mom told me that I’m not allowed to ride with you after the last time.” 

“That was a total fluke,” Matty argued as she pulled out of her parking space. NSYNC was just starting to bump her stereo and, when Amelia glanced down at her phone, Matty took the opportunity to crumple up the stash of parking tickets that were currently stuffed into the cupholder. When Amelia looked back over at her she just gave an innocent smile. “Besides, if anyone is upset about that it’s me. Everyone goes fifty in a twenty-five.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Amelia said as they peeled out onto the road. “But I think you should spend less time with Pete.” 

Matty just laughed. And, when Amelia started singing along to the third song on her CD, she was in a good enough mood to even buy Amelia an extra-large milkshake along with her dinner. 

---

Turns out, music and food was the key to any angsty child’s heart. By the time they made it to In N’ Out down the coast, Amelia was singing along to the catchy, timeless tunes of the quintessential boyband. And after they got their too-large orders of fries, burgers, and milkshakes, Amelia had even insisted on taking a couple selfies with Matty in what she dubbed “golden hour” lighting of the afternoon. One of the pictures even made it onto her Instagram account—not that Matty had been paying attention—while the others just cluttered up her phone. 

More than that, but once she had been fed, she had been in a good enough mood to let Matty take a quick detour to the nearby surf shop so she could peruse some boards that she definitely couldn’t afford. The downside of that interaction was that even when well fed, Amelia made sure to point out the issue she took with Matty spending money on hobbies when she couldn’t even be bothered to upgrade to a smartphone. 

“I don’t need a smartphone,” Matty told her primly. “When you’re as stunningly hot as I am, Amelia, you have to learn to live in the moment. This body isn’t going to last forever.” 

“You’re not even thirty yet,” Amelia shot back incredulously.

“And I’ll be lucky to make it to then with how stupid the mechanics are on base. Total morons. All of them.” 

Amelia cocked a hip, heart-shaped sunglasses low on her nose, and gave Matty her best impression of Regina George. “You are a mechanic on base.”

“No duh,” Matty had shot back just as quickly while running her hand over a neon green surfboard that matched the writing on her t-shirt a little too well. Karma who? “The problem here is that, while I’m not an idiot, I’m in charge of a fuck-ton of idiots. Idiots who don’t like to be yelled at or called teenie-weenies when they need to be knocked down a peg. How long do you think that shit is gonna last before one of them murders me?”

“You could just try to be nicer,” Amelia said with such innocence that Matty couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh. Glen, the owner of the store who—on more than one occasion—had watched Matty verbally berate local gym bros that tried to mansplain what surfboard wax was used for laughed as well. 

And he was all the way on the other side of the store. 

Amelia frowned, not understanding how what she said was wrong. Matty, now wiping tears from beneath her eyes, didn’t bother to explain it. Just simply pat the girl on the back before ushering her down the next aisle. “Come on, kid. Let’s be realistic here. Now, do you like the blue wetsuit better or the white? I accidentally shrunk my last one in the dryer.” 

Their aimless wandering lasted long enough for Matty to buy a new bikini that definitely wouldn’t be practical to surf in. It was cute though; not to mention half-off. At that point Amelia had ended up corralling them back outside before it got too late. Matty wouldn’t have minded spending a little bit longer talking with Glen about his latest shipment of boards, but Amelia was stronger than she looked and Matty hadn’t wanted to risk her arm being pulled out of socket. 

Fine enough; they made it back before traffic could get too horrible. Unfortunately, the bar was already open by then. Not full, though, and Matty managed to pull into the same parking space as before with a satisfied smile. Amelia didn’t seem to care any which way. 

“Can I keep these?” she asked as they made their way inside, poking the sunglasses in question back and forth on her face. 

“They’re not mine,” Matty shrugged while surveying the faces in the bar. A few frequents stood out to her. None that were Penny. “Keep ‘em.” 

Amelia, not even bothered about her mom’s presence (or lack of), frowned over at Matty from beneath said glasses. “What do you mean they’re not yours? I found them in your back seat. Did you steal them or something?”

“What? No! Of course not. Why is theft the first thing you think of?”

“Well if you didn’t steal them then...?”

Matty paused. She remembered the sunglasses vaguely from a night out with Claire a couple months back. The girls started drinking mimosas early that particular Saturday morning saying that they were going to go easy and relax after a long week. However, one mimosa turned into two, and ten hours later they found themselves in downtown San Diego at a drag bar with a bachelorette party that they had somehow been invited to. The women were nice, more than happy to bring two new girls into the mix, and they all had matching outfits of pink and red and white. Actually, if Matty squinted hard enough she could envision a blurry bride in a red sparkly dress with a pair of equally red sunglasses that looked sorta like—

“You know what? Keep them! They were a... gift.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yup,” she popped her ‘p’ with a poignant smack of the lips. “They look better on you, anyways.” 

Amelia grinned. Matty, not wanting to even consider the circumstances in which she had obtained such glasses, just patted the girl awkwardly on the head before catching sight of Penny over her shoulder. Relieved, she pulled Amelia towards the other end of the bar. 

“Penny, there you are,” she started. “Have you seen—?”

“Where on Earth have you been, Amelia?” she cut Matty off with a cocked hip and the most motherly glare the woman could possibly produce. Matty froze in her shoes at being on the receiving end of it. This was the look that drunks typically got before being booted from The Hard Deck. 

Matty promptly cleared her throat before shoving Amelia to the battlefront with a fake cough. She couldn’t see the glare—you know, because of the sunglasses—but boy could she feel it. 

“We, um, went to get food,” Amelia started, now feeling her mother’s ire a little bit more.

“Food?” Penny deadpanned.

“Yeah. Didn’t Matty text you?”

Penny pulled her phone out of her back packet with a pointed look, before reading, “Stole your daughter, be back by…” she trailed off. Then, as if to punctuate the point she was making, she shoved her phone towards the pair to show that the text was exactly as she read it. “You didn’t even finish the text.” 

Matty rubbed the back of her neck with a wince. “Right. I was going to, and then… um. I got distracted. Guess I sent it without spell checking.” 

Penny arched her brow. “I called you twice since then. I thought the rule was to always answer the phone, Amelia,” she told her daughter. Her facade of anger was cracking a bit as it gave way to acceptance. 

“Oh,” Amelia faltered. “Our music was kind of... loud.”

“Your music?”

“It was NSYNC if that makes it any better,” Matty added. Penny said nothing. Just shot Matty a dry look. “Yup, nope, the band wouldn’t really matter. Got it.” 

The stare off continued for another moment before Penny finally relented. Probably more to do with the fact that they hadn’t been doing anything wrong per say, and less to do with the fact that Matty was trying to offer up her saddest wounded dog impression. 

Actually, yeah, it had nothing to do with that. Matty was never very good at looking innocent. 

Whatever.

What was important was that Penny wasn’t too mad. Sighing, she just tossed her dish towel over her shoulder before waving her hands at them. “Alright, fine. Just go finish your homework please, Amelia? Sarah is coming in at seven and I can drive us home then.” 

Amelia’s shoulders sagged with relief. Then she grinned. “Great. Thanks!” 

She moved to walk away without saying anything else, and Matty, not being able to help herself, cleared her throat as pointedly as she could. In turn, the pre-teen paused. 

“Okay, fine. NSYNC isn’t that bad I guess,” she said as if that was the most important thing. Then she disappeared down to where her homework still sat. Matty watched in disbelief as the girl gathered everything up and promptly moved to the back deck where it wasn’t nearly as loud.

Scoffing as dramatically as she could manage, she turned to Penny, and told her, “I bought her, like, twenty dollars worth of food! I mean seriously, Pen, she just wouldn’t stop eating! And gave her a pair of sunglasses for free.” 

It seemed that she was complaining to the wrong audience. Penny had no sympathy to give.

“Ugh, whatever,” she muttered. “I guess it’s a thankless job or whatever.” 

“Kidnapping my daughter?”

“Ministering to the youths.” 

Despite her earlier mood, the absurdity of the statement cracked a laugh out of Penny. It almost always did—the woman could hardly ever stay mad at Matty. She liked to think it’s because Penny understood who Matty was on a spiritual level. In reality, it was just because Penny couldn’t believe someone with a trainwreck of a life like the Neven’s could still manage to function. 

It was pretty much free entertainment. 

“I think the idea of you ministering anything to my daughter is more concerning than the kidnapping.”

“It was hardly a kidnapping,” she joked, sliding onto an empty stool. “Other than teaching her about NSYNC, Amelia did most of the talking. Did you know that Abby told Kasey that she was only allowed to invite two girls to her birthday party but then Mary G. found out that she was actually just lying because she was still mad at Kasey for kissing Aidan when she knows that Abby still had feelings for him after they danced together at the Spring Fling?”

Penny, both impressed that Matty had been able to retain that sort of information, and bewildered by everything she had just said, asked, “do you know who any of those people are?”

“Not a clue,” she admitted. Shrugged. Snuck another cherry off the bar before Penny could swat her with the dish towel. “I think that milkshake had too much sugar in it. Lesson learned.” 

“Well, I’m glad that you two had fun. Is there a reason that you decided to take her out to dinner?”

“Actually, yes, thank you for asking. I came looking for something. When we were here the other night I think I forgot my—” before she could explain herself, Penny withdrew a pair of shoes from a shelf beneath the bar with an amused smile. “Shoes. What a wonderful surprise. Thank you, these cost me twenty bucks.” 

“I’m more worried that you went home without shoes than the fact you paid twenty dollars on those shoes,” Penny snickered.

Matty blew a raspberry. “Mock all you want. These babies have seen a lot. They were worth the money.”

Penny raised her hands and leaned back onto the bar. “I don’t even want to know.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed, grinning. “Not that I would tell you half of the stories. State secrets and all that,” she exaggerated while setting the shoes aside with a loving look. The look shifted a bit when she glanced back up at Penny; this time, she was the curious one. “Speaking of state secrets, where have you been all evening? I heard that you were out on a date.” 

She didn’t even flinch. “It wasn’t a date.” 

“Rendezvous, an afternoon romp, a tryst, whatever you want to call it,” she supplemented without missing a beat. Penny grew more exasperated with each word, much to her amusement, and as she stuffed another cherry into her mouth she raised both brows. “How’s Mav?”

“None of your business.” 

“Ooh, that good huh?”

Penny hit Matty with her towel, forcing the blonde to lean back off the counter and away with the cherries. She laughed as she did so, however. “We had fun. But, maybe you should talk to him.”

“About his sex life?” she deadpanned, making a face. “No thanks.” 

“About his work life,” Penny said with a pointed, if not, amused look. To this, Matty settled down a bit. She hadn’t been expecting the change in conversation, but any gossip was good gossip when it came to the life of Maverick. “Cyclone is pulling him out of Top Gun.”

“What?” she cried. “That’s ridiculous. Why?”

“Ice isn’t here anymore,” Penny told her, serious for the first time since they started talking. And, fuck, if that wasn’t a bitch of a sentence to hear even if it was true. Matty just hadn’t thought that things would change so quickly since the funeral. Hadn’t wanted to think about it, maybe. “Yeah. Cyclone doesn’t think he’s right for it anymore.”

“And what does Mav think?”

Penny was quiet for a long moment. Matty didn’t really need an answer. 

“Where is he?” she asked. And, when she got an answer, she didn’t hesitate to go looking for him. Even if they weren’t best friends, even if he wasn’t her godfather, she still owed him a conversation at the very least. Penny appreciated that; was happy to see it too.

And when Matty had pulled out of the parking lot with intent and Penny saw that she had left her boots on their stool, she could only shake her head with a sigh. 

“Note to self,” she muttered, stuffing the shoes back to their hiding spot beneath the counter, “don’t ever buy that girl anything expensive.”

---

The traffic on base was relatively nonexistent as Matty cruised through. Most people had gone home for the day, and the ones that hadn’t were slowly easing themselves along the roads without much hurry. It made her lift her foot from the gas pedal a little bit. It worked out well in the end; driving slowly kept away the MP, and it also gave her the opportunity to spot Mav on the opposite side of one of the training fields doing sprints. 

She parked, took the keys out, but didn’t approach just yet. Instead, Matty propped her shoes up on the dashboard, threw a stick of gum in her mouth, and started twiddling with the Etch N’ Sketch that she kept in her car for moments like this. 

Okay, well, really it was in her car because she never cleaned, but whatever. 

By the time that Maverick finally took a break from his self-imposed torture, the sun was low on the horizon, the air had a bit of a stickiness to it, and Matty was halfway through doodling a two headed dragon. Well, if you squinted. She wasn’t all that much of an artist. Still. 

“Did Penny send you after me?” he asked her, slowly making his way in her direction. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, his back, his legs. She grimaced at the sight before tossing him a half empty water bottle. He gave it a glance over before sipping on the lukewarm water tentatively.

“No. I was just on base, saw you running. Thought that you might throw out your back before the night was over. Didn’t want to miss the spectacle of you being shoved into an ambulance,” she lied seamlessly. Mav chuckled; she wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he didn’t call her out on it anyways. “Why would Penny send me after you?”

He squinted into the sunset. “They’re kicking me out of the program.” 

“They can’t do that.” 

“They can,” he said, blinked in a moment of thought, and then added, “I’m a little surprised that it took them this long, actually. I don’t think teaching is really my thing.” 

Matty rolled her eyes. “That’s a load of bullshit.” 

Mav, not quite expecting such bluntless, glanced at her. “Come on, Matts. You don’t need to coddle me. I’m a disaster in the classroom; I knew that twenty-five years ago when I tried this the first time around.”

“No shit,” she deadpanned. His lips drifted down into a frown, eyebrows furrowing into a tense line in the middle, and she tossed her Etch N’ Sketch into the backseat with a sigh. “Mav, obviously you’re bad at teaching in a classroom. You’ve never exactly been the sort of guy to sit down and read a textbook.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Oh, shut up, I’m not done,” she told him. The conviction in her voice was purposeful, the eye roll wasn’t. “Just because you can’t lecture well doesn’t mean you can’t teach. You have, like, decades of experience. Good experience doing things that no sane person would ever do. Bradley told me that he had never seen someone fly like you did during training exercises.” 

The light moved on Maverick’s face as he shifted on his feet, glancing at her in abate curiosity. “He said that?” he asked. Her mouth tightened into a scowl, however, and the conversation moved on with a cough. “Cyclone knows that I have experience. It was one of the reasons that he didn’t want me here in the first place. My file isn’t exactly…” 

“Short?”

He scoffed. “You could say that.” 

Matty shrugged, waving a hand around vaguely as she tucked her sneakers under herself. “What does Cyclone know anyways?”

“A lot,” Maverick said. “Being a Vice Admiral and all.” 

“Vice Admiral or not he doesn’t know everything.” 

Maverick finished the last of her water thoughtfully. As he glanced around, down at his foot, out into the sunset, Matty could see the age lines deepening on his face. It was a bittersweet thing; oftentimes, she liked to think of her Dad and Maverick and all the other pilots as relics, sure, but also as untouched by time. They were so lively, so fun, so young and bold that it could be difficult to acknowledge that they aged like real people. Changed. 

Got sick. 

Died. 

She cleared the weight in her throat awkwardly. “Look, believe it or not, I didn’t come out here to give you a pep talk. You know what you’re capable of, and you know what this job requires. But…”

He lifted a brow. “But?” he asked pointedly.

“I’ve never known you to walk away from something.” 

The lines on his face tightened, the age deepening by a decade. Maverick tossed her empty water bottle into a nearby trash can with a beleaguered sigh. “Penny said the same thing, but some things are out of my control.”

“Since when?” she scoffed. “Ice told me that you ended up here because you crashed going Mach 10 over the desert.”

“Crashing wasn’t exactly my goal,” he told her dryly.

“Yeah, well, there’s consequences to everything. You know what you’re capable of. I guess you just need to figure out what consequences you can live with and which you can’t,” she said. It was oddly poetic, and maybe one of the most sensible things she had ever told anybody in her life. Maverick seemed aware of this as his mouth lifted into a smile. Cheeks reddening, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “now seriously are you going to put a shirt on or what?”

To that, he laughed. Glanced down at his bare chest, then to her, and then laughed again. 

“You know,” he told her while stooping down to pull his shirt out of the discarded bag on the ground. When she caught his gaze over the crook of his shoulder, his eyes were sparkling. “I bet if I was Rooster you wouldn’t mind so much.” 

“That’s—that’s not even—” she spluttered, mortified, horrified, and a little bit scandalized. “Shut up!” 

He made no promise, and by the time that he was climbing onto his motorcycle, Matty made sure that her volume dial was turned back to max so that she wouldn’t have to hear him if he didn’t. 

---

“I think I’m going to quit,” Matty declared suddenly as she flopped back onto the damp sand. It’s a declarative statement spoken loud enough to garner her friend’s attention, but oddly enough, not a single person believes the statement itself. To that, she stuck her nose up into the air. “I am! I’ve had it with this life. My back hurts like a bitch and I’m tired of never having a manicure last. Plus, I’d rather spend all my time at the beach like this.” 

“Sure, Sheila,” Boomer deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he catches a bright orange football that he and George have been tossing around to pass the time. Earlier, the group had indulged in a short game of flag football that had resulted in Matty getting knocked on her ass one too many times to count, but now it was just the pair entertaining themselves as they waited for sunset. Though the group had gotten to the beach around dinner to find themselves a little piece of sand, the rest of the beach had slowly but surely gotten fuller as night set out. It was the first annual night surfing event of the year—with the weather deemed good enough and the midnight swells tall enough—and the air crackled with anticipation as locals showed up. “I’d reckon you’d last all of two days before you come back to work.”

“Don’t think I can be a lazy body?”

“Think you’d run out of money,” he snorted. 

The others laughed and, as Matty considered it, she figured that he was probably right. Matty had a history of being bad with money. Not so bad that she was always paying off gambling debts like Boomer, mind you, but bad enough that she liked to treat herself when the moment struck.

“I’ll just marry rich then,” she said after a moment of consideration. Upon reaching that conclusion, Matty threw her head back into Claire’s lap—smiling when the brunette arches a brow down at her in challenge—and gave a wistful hum. “I don’t think I’d mind being a trophy wife.” 

“You’d have to be a trophy to be a trophy wife,” Claire chirped.

“Please. Men practically drool when they see me.” 

“And you’re so humble too,” Nick snarked from her side. He had busied himself with setting up a campfire before the night got too dark. Typically, that was Frank’s expertise, but he had elected to go out of town that weekend for a camping trip with some buddies, and so it was up to the young blood to do what no one else wanted to do. “Might have to work on that if you want to keep a guy around.” 

Matty blew a raspberry. “I’d rather work for the rest of my life than dumb myself down for some richie-rich loser.” 

“Two minutes,” Claire announced. “It took you two minutes to come full circle.” 

Matty rolled her eyes up at her friend as Nick laughed under his breath while adjusting the logs just the right way. She knows it’s all in good humor, though, and doesn’t feel particularly aggressive any which way so she just lets them get away with it all. 

“Do you need some help?” she asked him after a few minutes of watching.

Nick arched a brow at her. “Do you know how to build a fire?”

“Well, no, but I’ve seen Frank do it before. It can’t be that hard.” 

Nick and Claire shared a look. She shook her head first, deciding that she was too close to Matty to say anything, which left him to think up some sort of bullshit excuse as to why no one wants Matty to get her hands on a pack of matches. He’s too nice, however, and maybe takes too long because soon enough George rather boldly told her, “I’d rather be cold tonight than have you attempt to build a fire.” 

“Um, excuse me. Rude much?”

“I’ve seen what you can do with a wrench and a can of oil, Mats,” George deadpanned. 

To that, she flapped her hand around at him, vaguely annoyed that he was involved in the conversation at all. “That was one time, and I apologized already. Plus, Cap made me sit through that stupid fire safety course afterwards. I think I’m probably the most qualified here to start a campfire if we want to get all technical about it.” 

The entire group shared a look.

“Listen, I’d love nothin’ more than to watch you bend over the campfire,” Boomer started. She immediately huffed at it, rolled her eyes, already considering smacking him for whatever bullshit he was about to spew, but he steamrolled on without even noticing. Nothing ever seemed to shut him up, really. “But you were just talkin’ about wantin’ to be a trophy wife, yeah? Let little Nicky handle the fire and you can just keep lying there lookin’ pretty for us all.” 

Matty feels mildly offended at everyone’s distrust in her skills, but does realize that Boomer has a point. She would have to get up off the ground and actually try if she wanted to follow through on her proposition. Lying prone in the sand sounded like a much better option. Still, Matty hated admitting defeat. 

“Sexists.” 

“Don’t loop me in with them,” Claire said as she nudged Matty’s head with her knee. “I’d like to see a woman show up a man any day. Just, you know, not you with a campfire.” 

Matty’s pout deepened. “I hate all of you.” 

“Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual,” Claire shot right back. It takes nothing more than for Matty to arch a brow in prompting to get an explanation. “I still can’t believe you invited some of the Top Gun idiots out with us tonight. Talk about a betrayal.”

“I didn’t invite them all,” Matty argued. It was true. She had invited Bradley earlier that day when they had run into each other at the mess hall. And by extension she had also invited Natasha and Bob because they were standing right there with him eavesdropping on the entire conversation. She hadn’t intended for anyone else to hear about the shindig, but he had shot her a text about an hour earlier warning her that a few more of the knucklehead pilots might be tagging along. “It’s hardly my fault that Bradley can’t keep a secret to save his life. Besides, it’s not just us here. It’s a community thing.” 

“Sure, but since when are the pilots part of our community?” 

Matty doesn’t let her interrogation go very far. Pointedly, she reminded Claire, “last I recall, you got along with the pilots just fine. I’m pretty sure you would have spent the entire night with Natasha if you hadn’t been dragged away. It was almost adorable how cute you two were together, all huddled up in the corner booth, drinking your beer.” 

Claire is unamused at Matty’s point, but doesn’t argue it. Although no one outrightly said anything about it, the motor pool had their suspicions that Claire might have heart eyes for Phoenix. 

“Whatever. It’s the fact of the matter. Just because you want to bang Bradshaw doesn’t mean we should be stuck with the others as babysitters.” 

“I don’t want to bang him.” 

“Fine, marry, whatever.” 

Matty shoved off of Claire with a glare to which the brunette grinned, pleased to have won the argument. She doesn’t get to say anything else about it though. Before she can, a crying whoop catches the group’s attention, and they turn to watch as a group approaches them from the parking lot. 

Fanboy and Payback are at the front; barreling across the sand, shoving one another on the shoulders, as they race to see who can make it into the water first. They spray sand over Matty and Claire, but are gone before they can be reprimanded. She doesn’t care to see who wins—though, if the way they are wrestling one another, she suspects that neither wants to admit to a loss. Behind them the others trail at a slower pace. Natasha ambles along with Bob, a cooler dangling between their hands. Bradley has a surfboard tucked beneath each arm, jean shorts this time traded for a more appropriate pair of low hanging swim trunks. Behind him, Hangman saunters forward with a beer already cracked in hand, looking much too smug for her liking. Coyote lingers in the far back as he struggles to pull his sweatshirt over head. 

“This isn’t much of a party,” Jake chirped smugly at them. 

“Well it was before you showed up,” Matty shot right back. She catches Bradley’s eye next, and he has the smarts to at least offer a shrug in apology for the blonde having somehow wormed his way into the invitation. She finds that she doesn’t mind all that much though. So long as Seresin watched his attitude. “Ever heard of being a party crasher?”

“Nah.” 

“Course not.” 

“Every party wants me. I’m part of the experience.” 

Matty can’t help but roll her eyes as the others join the group. Claire and Natasha share warm smiles. Bob seems timid as always, but he still offers the pair of women cold beer from his cooler that they accept with appreciative smiles. “Whatever. Maybe you can keep Booms’ attention, huh? The pair of you two are so cute together. Like little best friend puppies or whatever creepy box you came out of.” 

This time it’s Jake who is rolling his eyes. But… 

Well, when he catches Boomer’s eye and realizes that the man has a football in hand, he’s instantly more interested in whatever that might entail than he is in trading barbs with Matty. He splits from the group without saying anything else, and somehow he manages to round Payback and Fanboy out of the water without much prompting. Coyote trails after them as well as Bradley takes a seat beside Matty. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.” 

“Long time no see.” 

“Oh, sure. It’s been a whole, what, four hours now? I can’t imagine how you could have survived going that long without seeing me. The withdrawal must be getting pretty bad by now.”

“It’s been hard, not gonna lie,” he teased. Smiled when she pokes her tongue out at him. “Pretty excited to see how bad you are at surfing if I’m being honest.”

“I’m amazing,” she told him.

He clearly doesn’t believe her touting. “Really?”

“You better believe it, Bradshaw. You’re going to see some real talent tonight out on those waves. If you can even keep up.”��

His gaze brightens at the challenge, but also at the way that her voice has adopted something—dare she admit—flirtatious to it in all of five sentences. She’s almost surprised at herself, really; even more surprised that she really doesn’t mind. In fact, Matty is simply happy to sit there talking with Bradley about anything at all. She’s starting to worry that it’s his attention that she can’t get enough of and not the other way around. 

“Yeah, yeah, well I think I’m finally getting used to your smack talk, Neven. It’s not nearly as scary as you think it is.”

“God, say it ain’t so. I must be going soft around you, Bradshaw.” 

“The horror,” he joked.

She smiled, he grins, and in response something happy and soft opened his features up even further. She has caught glimpses of the expression before—in the parking lot when he brought her coffee, at her house when she finally talked to him about her past, on the beach when they were eating tacos in their own little world—and she marks it down as something that she likes seeing. Likes being the cause of. Likes knowing, at least a little, that it’s for her. 

Matty opened her mouth to say something back, to try and tease the expression for a little bit longer, when she came to the horrifying realization that she is surrounded by her friends while falling into some sort of mystified trance. It’s all so high school, really. The way that she seems to forget everything else when Bradley smiles at her. 

Clearing her throat, she turned to find that Claire is already watching her with an all too smug look. Matty arched a brow at her friend sharply. “Don’t you want to play football with the boys?” she prompts. 

It does nothing to scare her off. 

“Nope,” Claire tuts, popping the ‘p’ for extra emphasis. The smugness has gone and grown a head of its own as she slides her gaze towards Bradley. She even makes a show of stretching her legs out in the sand. “I’m plenty comfortable right here. What about you, Nat?”

Natasha, having now joined the group on the ground, seems to understand that she’s in the middle of something. She doesn’t seem to mind though. “All comfy, cozy,” she chirped as well. Her own gaze darts to Bradley. He rolls his eyes at her from behind his beer, but says nothing at all. 

It’s Nick who—once he finally gets the fire going—provokes the group of four from their silent standoff. 

“Anybody feel like playing cards?” he asked them. 

They all peer at one another for a moment. Matty at Claire, Claire at Natasha, Natasha at Bradley, then Bradley over at Mats, before coming to the same conclusion. 

“Yup,” Matty chirps as Claire says, “why not?”

Nick knows nothing of the war that he’s just stepped into. Neither does Bob who somehow manages to plop himself down right between Claire and Matty. When he catches the looks that both women are shooting him—as well as Natasha’s mute look of disbelief—he frowns. 

“Did I miss something?”

----

The water is cool against Matty’s skin as she dangles her legs on either side of her surfboard. She’s sitting far enough out from the shore that she’s no longer in anyone’s way but not so far that she’s at risk of being swept out. It helps as well that someone had been smart enough to pass out glow sticks in mass. There’s a bright pink one wrapped around her neck, as well as a dainty blue one on each wrist. She likes to watch as they leave behind luminescent trails in the dark with each movement of her arm. 

Mesmerizing, like the ocean that gently sways her. 

“Given up?” Bradley calls towards her. She has to squint her eyes to see him. The pilots only brought two surfboards and had been taking turns; it seems that he had handed his off to Coyote and instead was swimming out to hers. 

“Just watching the show.” 

He treads closer until his movements set her board swaying a bit. Matty narrowed her gaze at him, but she doubts he can see it in the dark. She can see only a swath of his features from the moonlight and the orange necklace he’s wearing as is. 

“You shouldn’t have swam out here without a board,” she chides when he’s close enough that she doesn’t have to shout. 

“Why?”

“Pretty sure it’s unsafe.”

“It’s plenty safe,” he chirps. She knows there’s something else coming before he moves, and Matty barely manages to keep her balance as he climbs onto her own surfboard with a grin. It shifts beneath them—threatening to throw them both over—before they manage to find their balance. He sits as a mirror image to her on the other end. Close enough to touch, though, if she tried. “See? We can share. It’s not like you’re using it, anyways.” 

“How presumptuous of you.” 

“That I thought you’d share?”

“That you don’t think I’ll drown you for touching my board,” she says.

He shakes his head with a laugh. She wonders how he would have reacted to something like that a few weeks ago. After they had met at the bar but before they had come to any sort of reconciliation. If he was smart, she supposes that he wouldn’t have even approached her in the dark. But Bradly Bradshaw never struck her as a coward. 

“Come on, Mats, we both know you like me,” he teases.

To this, she arches a brow. “Oh, I do, do I?”

“Definitely.” 

Matty hums as if the whole thing is a conspiracy, but she also flounders a bit. She’s hardly ever spent time in a relationship. Usually, she was more of a fuck-em and dump-em kinda girl. When that was the case, she didn’t have to worry about what sort of thing she might say. She just needed to be confident enough to win their attention. Then, the next morning, she would sneak home and never have to worry about it again. 

But with Bradley…

Well, she found that she didn’t necessarily want that sort of thing. She liked having inside jokes with him, liked having him come back to her, liked the attention. More than that, she wanted it to continue. 

It left her stranded in unfamiliar waters. 

Literally. 

“Whatever, Bradshaw,” she says, sticking her nose up in the air with as much feigned disinterest as she can manage. It was neither convincing nor mean. Awkward in her own skin, she throws her wet hair over her shoulder with a huff. “Okay, so I guess you’re not as horrible as I thought.”

He clutched a hand to his chest. “That might have been the nicest thing you ever said to me.” 

“I could still drown you,” she points out, narrowing her eyes at him. There’s a glimmer of something amused in her gaze that she can’t manage to shake, though. “Besides, that hardly means what you think it means.” 

“You know, despite what I first thought, you’re a pretty horrible liar.” 

“Um, I am not!” 

“And you get offended at the weirdest stuff too,” he added. She scoffs, rolled her eyes, twisted on the board a little too quickly and then went ramrod stiff when it threatened to topple them both over. He seemed amused at all of this. Flustered, Matty glares at him until he gets on with the conversation. “Alright, fine, fair enough. You’re the most brutally honest person I met. Is that better? A compliment for a compliment.” 

She considers it, then nods. “I’ll take it.” 

“Good,” he said, nodding. She nodded back once more, feeling pleased, until the moment that he opened his mouth again to speak. “Then I want you to be brutally honest right now and tell me that I’m imagining things and that you aren't interested in me. At least a little bit.” 

Well. Fuck. That backfired spectacularly. 

How had she let that happen?

“What are you drunk?” she blurts, not really sure what else to ask after hearing a declaration like that. 

“I’m not drunk. I’m being totally serious here, Mats. Look, I know how you felt about pilots and all of that, and I get it, I do, but I’m leaving soon and I’m tired of ignoring this thing between us—whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me. Alright? Just once, right now.” 

“I—” she hesitated. It was dark, but the longer they sat there together, the more details on his face she could make out. Like the way he arched a brow at her in challenge, or the way that his eyes were wide and earnest, or the way that there was a little dent between his eyebrows like he was nervous to hear what she had to say. “I don’t—I don’t date pilots.” 

The earnest expression gave way to something exasperated. “I didn’t ask if you would date me, I asked you to be honest about how you felt about me. Because I’ll be honest with you, Mats, alright? I like you. A lot. I like that you’re honest and open and not ashamed of who you are.” 

“Bradley—”

“And I like that you are hard-working, that you don’t let people push you around,” he continued. She licked her lips as he didn’t show a sign of stopping, eyes darting around as if looking for some way out, but it seemed that he was smarter than she gave him credit for. Cornering her on a surfboard with no way back to shore but an embarrassing swim as one way to go at it. She would have commended such a bold strategy if, you know, she wasn’t on the defensive side of it. “And I like that you understand me.” 

Matty latched onto that as quick as she could, not sure what else she could do. “See, okay, that’s the thing. You don’t like me, Bradley. You just like that I know about your past, that I went through something similar, alright? What’s the saying—misery loves company or whatever.” 

“That’s not it and you know it.” 

“It is,” she said, but, if she’s being honest, she’s not really sure anymore.

He fixed her with a look. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Matts.” 

“Come on, be serious,” she pleaded with him, slapping her hands in the water. His shoulders tightened a little bit at it. Her eyes drifted, unwillingly, to his bare chest, before she reminded herself that there were more important things to worry about. “I’m a horrible person. Okay? I am.”

“You’re not.”

“You just think that I’m fun. It’s happened before. I’m quirky and honest and whatever but pretty soon you’re going to hate that about me. Pretty soon you’re going to leave and you’re going to forget me and that’s—that’s okay. That’s how these things go,” she said. 

But once she said it she came to the startling realization that it’s not okay and it shouldn’t be how things go. Matty realized, stuck out on that board with him, that she didn’t want him to forget about her. She liked the idea of being known to the core by someone—known for all her misdeeds and deeds, for her history and her family name—yet not judged for it. She liked not having to worry that someone might be into her because of the ties of her Dad or Iceman brought with them. 

Fuck it. 

She fucking liked Bradley Goddamn Bradshaw.

“Come on, Neven,” he prompts. “Talk to me about this. Don’t shut me out.” 

“God, you’re such an asshole,” she said without thinking. 

That surely caught his attention, though, and this time when he sat back even further, she could make out the hurt that flashed across his features. Somehow, it spurs her on. Frustration tints her voice as she finally, at long last, is exactly what he wants her to be. 

Honest. 

“I have a rule about this kind of stuff, okay? Everyone jokes about it all the time, makes fun of me for it, but I’m serious. You think that I made the rule because it was funny? Or that I just didn’t want to follow in my mom’s footsteps? I don’t want to like someone that’s just going to leave, okay? That’s it. That’s the truth. You wanted me to be honest so I will. I don’t want to feel like I do about someone like you because you’re just going to leave me behind.” 

He blinked at her, silent.

“Well?” she asked. “Are you happy? Yes, I like you. Yes, I feel something here too. But…” 

“What?” he prompted her. “But what?”

“When you leave, I’m still going to be here. So what’s the point? Why even bother at all? So we can go out on one date, fuck, and then never talk to each other again? I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s worth it.” 

“You think that I would do that to you?”

Matty hadn’t expected that question. When she caught him staring, bewildered almost, she gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know, yeah, I guess. We barely know each other. I’m not saying that you’re a bad person or anything for it. I just think it’s normal.” 

Bradley was silent for a long moment that felt like an eternity. She didn’t like pensive silences, didn’t like stewing in her own thoughts. It was one of the reasons that she talked so much. Matty felt powerful when she had attention on her because it meant that people weren’t sitting there thinking about all of the reasons that they didn’t like her. Okay, so what if she wasn’t the super confident person she pretended to be all the time? Is that a crime? Everyone had things that they weren’t proud of or things that they wanted to pretend didn’t exist. 

Matty Neven was a lot of things. Constantly striving for approval was one of them. Struck with the fear of being abandoned was another. Big fucking whoop. It wasn’t the secret of the century. Hardly a secret at all for anyone who had an inkling of training in psychology.

Bradley didn’t have that sort of training. That’s why, just as she was considering drowning herself in the ocean, he was stuck on one single thing when she had already gone on three different downward spirals. “You really think that you’re so forgettable?” he asked her, dumbstruck. 

“Um... what?”

“You said that I would just forget you,” he pointed out. It seemed that her own lack of awareness astounded him. But, like, sue her. There was a lot going on right now. “Do you really think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe... Yes? Look, I’m just going to swim back to shore—”

“Matty,” he interrupted her with such exasperation that she snapped her mouth shut before she could say anything else. Probably a good thing too because if she got back to her car she most certainly was going to break several different speeding laws that night in her desire to run away. “You are probably the most unforgettable person I’ve ever met.”

“Right, stunningly gorgeous and all that,” she muttered in a poor excuse of a joke. 

He didn’t seem to hear it. Just steamrolled on ahead. “I’m sorry that there’s been people who make you feel like you’re not worth remembering before, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get you out of my mind even if I wanted to. Which, to be clear, I don’t.”

“You… don’t?” she hedged nervously, almost scared of the answer either way.

He shook his head so violently that it shook the board they were sitting on. “Fuck no, I don’t want to forget you. What I want is to take you out on a date, and then another, and then another one.”

She had never considered that option. The one where he didn’t forget about her or get bored of her. That’s why her response was nothing but a dumb, “oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” he reiterated. She blinked at him, then at the water beneath them in thought. The ocean rippled around them as their board twirled listlessly in the ocean. She had never been so bewildered before. “I like you. Okay? That’s that. You can tell me to get lost if you don’t like me, and I’ll respect that. But I don’t think you want me to leave you alone. So... let me take you out on a date. A real one. Not just coffee in the parking lot or tacos outside The Hard Deck.” 

“That’s different. We were just hanging out.” 

He gave her a weird look. “Do you think I woke up at six am because I just wanted to talk to you for five minutes in a parking lot?”

“Well, I mean…” she trailed off, not even sure what she had thought. And as he watched her beneath the moonlight it was obvious to them both that she wasn’t any good at this sort of thing.

“Just say yes,” he instructed her, a proverbial life raft in the waters. 

She swallowed. Cleared her throat. Tossed her hair to the left and then to the right. “...okay.” Bradley had a look pinched halfway between excitement and annoyance that she couldn’t even do that right. “I mean, yes. Yes, I will go out on a date with you. A real one. One where you can pay and hold the door or whatever guys do.” 

He grinned. Sighed. Then bent closer. “Good. I’m going to kiss you now.” 

“You’re what—?” 

Bradley stifled whatever pot of emotions that threatened to boil over with a warm, sound kiss. It had all thoughts evaporating from her mind like drops of water beneath the sun. And, oh, if it didn’t make everything better to have his hands shift around her bare waist as his mouth slanted against her mouth. It silenced everything she had going on inside her rat’s nest of a head—she could admit that her mind was more like the scene of Spongebob where his mind workers caught everything on fire and then started running around with sirens blaring than anything organized—but Bradley Bradshaw seemed to bring order to the chaos with nothing more than his touch. Goosebumps pricked up along her bare legs as she kissed him back, and when their teeth clacked against one another, they weren’t above it all to laugh. 

She giggled into his lips. He smirked against her mouth. 

And then, in a swift movement, something tipped their board over from underneath and the pair was promptly dunked under the water. She swallowed salt water as she blubbered, confused, and half afraid that a shark was about to eat her right when her life was starting to get interesting.

When she surfaced, spluttered like a drowning fish, and push the wet streaks of blonde hair out of her eyes, however, she realized that the reality was much less exciting as she spied two heads with neon necklaces in the near distance. It was dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t make out the matching grins that Claire and Natasha wore as they howled with laughter. 

Nat paused when she met Matty’s eyes. “Oh, shit, she looks pissed!” 

The girls turned tail and paddled as fast as they could towards Claire’s surfboard that had been abandoned in the water not too far from Matty’s. They giggled as they went, though, and she figured it wouldn’t be all that hard to frame their drownings as accidents. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” she shrieked after them. 

“You have to catch us first!” Claire shouted back. 

She would. She wasn’t even that fast of a swimmer, but she would. Before she got the chance to take off after them, however, something latched onto her wrist and tugged her in the opposite direction of the shore.

A few soaked curls flopped on Bradley’s forehead as he smiled over at her. 

“Um, excuse me, they’re getting away!” 

“You can kill them later,” he said.

“But—” 

He kissed her again. It was sloppier as they were now both treading water, and she was pretty sure that she swallowed even more salt water in the mess of it all. This time she didn’t care nearly as much.

*** taglist (thanks for asking!)  @callsignbarb @coyotesamachado   @shanimallina87  @luckyladycreator2 ​ @olivethenerd16  @the-winter-marvel33 @hiddleless @momc95 @alanadetigy​ ​@obsessedasusual  

Okay, i kinda can’t believe how this story basically ran so far off course my my original idea, but i love where it’s ending up. i’ve been feeling less enthusiastic about writing just bc it’s taking me so much longer to update this story than it did to update old habits die hard but then i realized that this story is so much longer, with so many more scenes, and i’m very proud of that. hope you enjoy! 

one more chapter to go xoxo

[harcove]

hiiiii! <33 i dont know if you are taking any requests but can you write a leon x reader in which the reader gets bitten? (i love drama lmaoo)

love uuuuuu<3333

Okay so I do have like a bunch of other stuff to finish in my inbox, but I tend to not do things in order of when I get them, I do them in the order of whatever I get done first (since I start them all whenever I get them and work on them over time) and whatever I'm getting the most inspiration for at the moment, and this baby right here: chefs kiss right now. I LOVE angst so much, it is my favourite thing to write.

Also I'm always open for requests! It's just a matter of when they get done, since like I said above, and also my final year of uni just started so oof. ALSO: Decided to do RE2 Leon oop... I hope that's okay!

I LOVE YOU TOO! Here you go bb,

Warnings: angst, blood/gore, injury, character death

Length: 2.8k (I- oop.)

Request: in the ask!

RE2 Leon Kennedy x Reader - Not you.

Your hand squeezed your thigh with as much strength as you could muster. It wasn't that it was hurting too much yet, you were still running off the shock and adrenaline from the events moments before that the pain hadn't yet settled. Dark blood oozed between your shaking fingers and coated your hand like you had just decided to dip your hand into a bucket of red paint. It was hardly sanitary considering the situation you were in, dirty and sweaty, having been going through the sewers earlier.

The undead man who had done the deed lay a few feet away with your survival knife Leon had given you stuck in his temple. You could see your own blood and flesh on his face, in his mouth. It was unnerving, and you usually wouldn't have noticed such a detail, except that it was your skin. Your blood. Your body.

You inched yourself towards the corpse and used the tip of your foot to make sure it wasn't still going to get back up. When it did nothing after a few pushes, you deemed it safe enough to take your knife back. With a few hard tugs, it dislodged itself with a squelch and you fell back against the wall behind you, exhausted.

The sudden sharp pain that run up your leg into your spine and made you arch your back for a moment as you stopped breathing forced you to pay attention to the wound on your leg. Hesitantly, you moved your shaking fingers away from the bite on your leg to take a peak.

There wasn't really a point to looking at it, you realized moments after you laid eyes on it. It wasn't going to fix anything, and there was nothing for you to assess. A bite was a bite, and you knew what it meant. Leon and you had seen what happened to Marvin. You yourself had seen a friend turn after being bit before you had gone to the RPD. So you knew.

The skin near the bite was incredibly hot to the touch, and even without touching it, you could feel the heat coming off your skin. Your jeans sported a hole where the bite was and you wondered if there was anything in your bag to cover it with. It was ugly to look at, and scary.

You let out of deep sigh as you closed your eyes. There wasn't much you could do but sit there. Leon was somewhere inside the NEST, and you were at the entrance. You weren't sure if you wanted Leon to find you dead or alive, but all you knew was that this was not something you nor him could fix.

It felt like hours had passed when Leon had shown up. But in reality, it had only been about half of an hour. Whatever was in the bite, whatever the virus really was, had done a number on you as you felt sweat bead at your forehead and slowly trickle down the side of your face. The furrow in your brow from the pain almost felt like it was permanent.

"Y/N!" He called out when he spotted you. He looked worse for wear, that was for sure. The way his shirt had been ripped on the sleeves, and the bandage you could see just beneath his shirt and RPD vest. He was caked in blood, sweat, and dirt too.

And yet he was a welcome sight for your tired eyes.

He quickly slid onto his knees and if you weren't in so much pain yourself, you would've winced at how harshly he landed on the hard floor, but it didn't seem like he was affected by it.

"I'm so glad I found you," he said breathily; he reminded you of a little puppy, and it made you want to squeeze him close to you, "what happened, what-"

Your hand squeezed your leg unconsciously and he looked down when you did so, his beautiful blue eyes resting on your bloodied hand and whatever you were covering up. His eyes looked back up to you almost hesitantly, asking to look. When a half-smile was your only response, he looked back down and focused on your leg.

His hands gently pried your fingers off your leg and he carefully let your hand go on your lap, giving them a squeeze.

"I'm..." he seemed at a loss for words, you would've been too, "I have to... Cut this away to see it better, okay? It's..."

Carefully he used his own survival knife to cut away at the pieces of your jeans, which were dyed deep red around the wound, so he could see it better. Your hand came up to his shoulder as he did so, peeling the bloody fabric away from it as much as he could without hurting you, and you squeezed his shoulder so tightly, fighting the urge to scream in pain. But he didn't seem to notice, or care, about the harsh grip you had on his shoulder.

"Oh. God..." it was said softly, almost as if he had no air left inside him to breathe, let alone speak.

"It's really ugly, I know," you tried to make the situation less dire, but it didn't seem to work, because Leon just looked at you with his big eyes, full of so many negative emotions.

"It's not..." even Leon didn't know what he was doing to say as he trailed off. He began searching through his pockets till he came up with a bottle of antiseptic that looked half empty.

"It's gonna be okay," he finally spoke again as he started to open the bottle, but your hand reached up and seized his own holding the open bottle above your leg.

"Don't use that," you pushed it closer to him and further from your leg, "you can't afford to waste that."

"I'm not wasting it."

You hadn't heard him sound so sure of his words, so... Angry. You hadn't known the boy long, but that was the first time you'd seen him react that way to anything. It made your push your lips together in a thin line, but you kept your hand on him, stopping him from using the antiseptic.

"I'm pretty sure we both know how this ends," you prompted slowly, "I don't think an antiseptic is going to fix it."

"The vaccine is here somewhere, it has to be," he stated firmly, "we just need to find it. It's going to be okay."

It wasn't that you didn't trust him, or that you didn't believe him. But how long was it going to take to find a vaccine? And how did you truly know you were going to find one? You didn't even know if it would work.

You didn't have much say when Leon moved to put your arm over his shoulder, and looked at you, counting to three before he helped you off the ground.

It worked initially: you had managed to stand up with the help of the rookie cop beside you, who kicked the zombie that had done the deed further from you two when you had gotten up. But it didn't last long, as pain shot through your leg and seemed to spread through your entire body. You could barely keep yourself upright even with his help, your body felt too weak to even function.

"Leon, I can't," you cried, falling back against the wall, "I can't."

"Damnit," Leon cursed under his breath, looking around him urgently before he left you against the wall to open a door across from the two of you.

He was missing for less than a minute when he came back out from the room and quickly came back to you. One of his arms reached under your legs while the other went to your back.

"I'm going to pick you up, okay?"

Ever the gentleman, even when you were definitely dying.

"My hero," you smiled softly but it came out as more of a grimace as he lifted you up like you weighed nothing.

You supposed training to be a police officer meant he wouldn't have trouble carrying fully grown human beings.

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp. There was a bed right across from the door, and a desk close to the door. Someone must've used this room as not just a study but a place to sleep. Like a bedroom.

Leon gently placed you on the bed in the room, being careful on how he placed you, and never taking his focus away from your leg.

"Okay," he breathed out pulling back, "I'm going to go find the vaccine. And then we're going to get out of here. Together."

It was a wonderful thought. It was the dream, right? For everything to be okay, for you to be fine, and for the two of you to get out of Raccoon city and away from this mess. Together.

And yet you knew it wasn't going to happen, you knew you weren't getting out of there. You knew you were dead. And it was a scary thought to have to face alone because you wanted so badly to live. To live with him.

He would've been out that door had you not reached your hand out and grabbed his hand as best you could, squeezing it as hard as you could.

"Don't," your voice cracked as you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest only growing when his pained expression met yours, "don't leave me. Leon..."

"But I need to..."

It was blatantly obvious to not only yourself but also to him that there wasn't anything he could do. Not anything he could do in time for you. He didn't even know what he'd be looking for exactly, but he'd go find it if he could. He'd do anything to help you. To save you, and keep you near, but there wasn't anything he could do. It was a cold hard truth, and one he so desperately wanted to avoid.

But he couldn't.

Not when he looked at you, and really looked. Not just second glances over your form and your leg that lasted seconds as his blue eyes frantically moved like they were trying to find something they couldn't. No, when he really stopped and stared at you, he couldn't avoid it.

Your skin was ashen and you were covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your eyes somehow looked like they had sunken in a bit, and looked dull compared to what they usually looked like. The way you breathed was alarming, it was shallow and sounded tiring, and then some moments it would speed up only to slow down moments later. You were in pain, and you were hardly there anymore.

"Y/N..." Leon's voice cracked, and you never thought you were going to see him cry. He held your hand back tightly and noted your fingertips felt cooler, "This isn't happening. Not to you."

"I should've paid more attention..." you said softly, "I don't... I don't want to die."

"I should've been here, I should've..." he exhaled through his nose, "damnit!"

"I'm not letting you blame yourself," you sternly interrupted him and squeezed his hand as best as you could, "not now. Not ever. None of this is your fault..."

Leon said nothing as he took to the ground beside the bed, kneeling right beside you. His face was close to your own as he leaned forward, his hand still holding your own tightly, which he brought up to your chest where your intertwined hands sat.

"Just..." you knew what you wanted to say but you didn't want to make the hurt worse, "just... promise you won't forget about me? And promise... Promise you're going to get out of here. Alive."

"I could never forget you," he said hurriedly as if he was offended you would have even thought he could forget you, "even if I wanted to, I could never..."

There was something there, between the two of you, that was trying to lay itself bare, but something was stopping it. There was something unsaid, simple words that were hard to say and had so much meaning, so much weight. But neither of you could say it.

If you did, not only would it be the first time, but also, the last time.

With your remaining strength you slipped a ring off your finger; it was an old thing, something that you had for a while and you didn't even remember why you got it or where you got it, but you always wore it just because. It had no sentimental meaning, but now it did as you pushed it into his hands. The look of confusion on his pained face made you smile slightly.

"So you always have a piece of me," you said, "and if you ever try to pawn that off I will come back and find you, Kennedy..."

His eyes trained themselves of the silver ring in his hands, it was so plain, just a band. But it was yours. It was you. It was all he could keep of you, he realized because this wasn't going to end with your life. Pocketing the ring, he took your hand again.

"I might just sell it then if you show up," he tried to make you smile, which it worked, but he also felt the need to reassure you, "I won't get rid of it. Ever."

"Good to know," you let go of his hand again and pulled out the gun in the holster that he had found for you in the station, inside was a round of ammo that you wouldn't need. Pulling out the ammo, save for one of the bullets, you gave him the rounds.

"What? What are you-"

"I'm not... Going to need this," you said, slightly out of breath from the pain you were in, "and I know they fit Matilda. But I'm keeping the gun, and one of the bullets."

It seemed to dawn on him what you meant by your final sentence and he frantically began to protest.

"Hey, wait, no," he shook his head, "no. I can... You don't have to... Let me."

It was the idea that you would have to shoot yourself that made him uncomfortable. The idea that you would need to take your own life upset him. But if you didn't want to turn into one of them, he would do it for you. He would... He...

"We both know you can't," you justified, "and I don't want you to. I could never ask you to. So, you go. You leave Leon, and you find that virus. You get out of here, and you live. You don't do anything stupid or reckless, and you make these bastards pay."

You were adamant, and you left absolutely no room for argument. Even if he wanted to argue, he couldn't. And he wanted to argue. But denial would get him killed, and you wanted him to live. And some part of him wanted to live for you.

"Alright," his voice didn't waver this time as he spoke, "Alright."

He placed his head against yours for a moment when he stood up and squeezed your hand a little tighter in his own when he grabbed it again. Softly, you placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth and ushered him to leave. It felt like he was walking on hot coals the whole time as he walked out the door, he regretted it when he looked back at you at the door, like he was waiting for you to get up and go with him. It just made closing the door behind him a lot harder.

He hadn't really been keeping watch of the time since he arrived in the RPD. He didn't really realize how fast or how slow time was going. But at that moment, outside that door, he really felt the way time flowed. It was impossibly slow, agonizingly so, and it was deadly quiet. Something that happened in only moments felt like it had taken an eternity.

He was used to the sound of a gun by now. It didn't make him flinch anymore. But this time it did. It made his stomach clench and his jaw tighten, his body stiffens. He hated how it sounded more than he ever had before.

The piece of metal in his pocket weighed heavy as he ghosted his hand over it.

Leon was going to find who did this. He was going to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. But most of all, he was going to make them pay.

[theneondemonx]

HOUDINI | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: jungkook was your first and only. When he got arrested, you felt like an idiot for always believing his every word and after a few years you decided to date again. But the word somehow got to his ears in jail and he couldn’t let you be anyone else’s but his.

▽ genre: porn with some plot, criminal au, established relationship

▽ pairings: escaped convict!jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 3464

▽ warnings: mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol abuse, mention of underage sex, criminal activities, implied murder, possessive behavior, mention of female masturbation, spanking, fingering, female ejaculation, overstimulation, oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk

( ➜ Drabble 1: first meeting ) [⏵playlist]

He hit me and it felt like a kiss He hit me and I knew he loved me If he didn't care for me I could have never made him mad But he hit me and I was glad

You were still very young when you learned that love was nothing like the cheesy romances you’d see on the big screen. Well, you didn’t actually have the money to go to the movies, but sometimes you found the way to sneak in and watch whatever was there to watch. You had a fascination for those stories, for those dancing images on the screen. They were made of pure light. Literally. While everyone was caught in the enchantment of the movie, you were the one to look behind your back and follow the light beam up until its source, looking straight at the small window from which the projector created the whole illusion of life before your eyes.

Most people want to escape from reality. They want to feel like their life has meaning, like it is just one plot twist away from being interesting. I didn’t. Maybe I should have, since mine was pretty shit. But I guess this was the whole reason why I was looking for the disenchantment. It’s like watching a magician. I’ve always been the type to be more observant, to look for the trick. Cause if there wasn’t any, then it would have meant that mine was the only pointless existence.

No one in your block had a penny to their names. Everyone dreamed of going away, of starting a new life and do something meaningful. But you knew that most of them would never make it. They were trapped.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

Those weren’t your words. They were Jungkook’s. Well, not his own words, actually. He had read them somewhere. He was the type to read, although he didn’t look like it at all. And you know how people who read are: they are good with words. They can shape reality with just a flick of their tongue. And damn if he got a way with words! That’s why you fell for him.

It wasn’t just the fact that he got the looks of an angel. He also talked like one. He could talk his way in and out of everything and you were pretty sure he could lie his way into heaven if he wanted to. He was an exceptional liar, a pathological one too. But you loved him anyway.

You believed him when he told you that he was going to turn your life upside down. Why wouldn’t you? He had already done it more times than you could count. He had done it since the day you first met in that dark movie theatre. You had always believed him and everything he said. He was the only man you ever loved, the first and the last you had sex with, and eventually the one you married.

He reminded you of your father. They had the same dangerous charm. Their eyes gleamed with the same light: that of a man who was willing to con the whole world and make it his own. Your father didn’t make it, though. He became a drunk mess and ended up in prison for attempted murder.

Only a pathetic fuck goes to jail for attempted murder. Either you go down for murder, or you don’t go down at all. That’s how much of a failure he was.

But you didn’t care about him. He used to beat your mother whenever he felt like it. Jungkook, on the other hand, never did that.

So, when he told you those words – “the less you know, the better” – you didn’t question him. You just believed him. And when he came home with a bag full of money and his hands covered in blood, you still didn’t question him. You just did as he asked and bent over the kitchen table to let him fuck you senseless.

You really didn’t care about what he did. Everyone in your block was somehow entangled with criminal activities. That’s just how it is when you can’t afford an honest life. What if he robbed a bank? What if he killed someone to get that money? So what? You’d love him anyway. You’d love him no matter what.

You still loved him when you heard the sirens wailing through the block and stop outside your shared house. You didn’t care about the fact that he just ripped your marriage into pieces. You always knew he was an Icarus.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you with a cocky smirk, while being pushed inside the police car.

And again, you believed him.

He was the only magician who ever managed to deceive you into thinking that his was actual magic and not just a trick. But when the jury found him guilty of aggravated robbery and murder, you felt like the lights had gone off and the curtain closed on his magic show. It was over. And now you were left standing in a sad empty circus, with just the distant music of the carousel to remind you of the fact that it was all a rouse. A convincing one for sure, but still a rouse.

When you saw him being taken away from the trial, you thought about those words he told you years before.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

And you smiled to yourself. Somehow, even though your whole life had just gone to pieces, you found them ironic. Who would have thought, back then, that he would end up in an actual prison? Not you for sure.

The years had passed and although you never really moved on from Jungkook, you decided it was time for you to build a life for yourself. You were still young and pretty, so it wasn’t hard for you to fool some stupid rich boy from the city. Kim Seokjin was no Jeon Jungkook, but he had money and a steady job – one that could actually pay for rent, food and vices without raising any question from the authorities.

He didn’t know you were broke as fuck, and you did your best to hide it with the means you had and the cunning that your lowlife background had teach you. You would buy fancy dresses and hide the tag when you wore them, so that you could return them the day after. You would also tell Seokjin to come pick you up at work in Gangnam. You never worked there, of course, but he was dumb enough to believe you. It didn’t really matter: you planned on sleeping with him soon enough and let him knock you up. Men always get way too excited when you tell them that they can fuck you without putting on a condom.

What you didn’t plan, however, was to find yourself with a tattooed hand covering your mouth when one night you came back home from a date with Seokjin. At first you tried to scream and free yourself from the strong grip of the mysterious man that somehow got into your house, but you froze as soon as he spoke.

“Shh be quiet, baby. You want to be the one to rat me out?”

You’d recognize that voice among millions. It was Jungkook.

How did he get out? His sentence is not over yet. He still has to serve twenty more years.

You thought that by being quiet and staying still, he would loosen the grip on you, but he didn’t.

“Fancy dress you got here, honey.” He hissed, pressing his lips against your ear and making you shiver from his touch. His hand trailed along the side of your body, caressing the expensive fabric of the white dress.

“Was your new boyfriend, the one who bought it for you?”

Your eyes widened at that question and you again tried to free yourself without success.

“Yeah.. I know. I was surprised too when Yoongi came to visit me and told me you were seeing some fancy city boy with his head up his tuxedo-covered ass.”

You knew that no matter how soft his voice could sound, he was mad. He was always calm when he was really mad.. until he wasn’t calm anymore.

“I told him: no, Yoongi, there’s no way that’s true. My sweet Y/N would never do something like that. She is a faithful wife, not some dirty whore who’s ready to sell her cunt to the first Richie Rich who comes around.”

He chuckled darkly.

“But he brought me the photos. So I guess I was wrong.”

He abruptly turned you around, pushing your back against the wall. It was then, that you saw him. His hair got longer and he somehow got some tattoos on his right arm. His dark eyes were gleaming in the dark with a mischievous light that you had never seen on him – not when he was looking at you, at least.

His fingers tightened around your jaw, forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Did you let him touch you?”

“N-no.” You muttered, with your heartbeat racing fast and your eyes wide open like those of an innocent doe who was just caught by a cold-blooded hunter.

He pressed his body on yours, breathing heavily against your lips without breaking eye contact.

“If you are lying to me.. I’ll know, Y/N.” He hissed. And you knew that those words were a clear warning.

“I expect your cunt to be tighter than it was when I left. If it isn’t..” he chuckled, slightly tilting his head to the side and licking his lips while caressing gently your reddened cheek. “..well, I guess I’ll stretch your holes so wide that there won’t be any doubt about whose little whore you are.”

He didn’t give you any time to breathe, let alone answer. He pressed his lips on yours with such passion that he sucked the air out of your lungs. And you melted.

You still loved him, after all. You still craved for his touch, which you missed every single night that you’ve spent in your empty bed. Every time you touched yourself, you always closed your eyes and think of him: his hands, his lips, his toned body, his cock, his breath, his smell.. everything. No man could turn you on like he did.

You could tell he had changed. He got more violent, more possessive. But for some reason, that didn’t bother you. Somehow, in a fucked up way, you enjoyed it. It was like you just had the proof that he truly loved you. That you were sill his.

You run your fingers through his hair, tightening your grip while kissing him deeply. A muffled sigh escaped from your lips when his tongue entered your mouth, exploring every corner of it like that was the last kiss he was ever gonna give you.

“Touch me.” You murmured, like it was a prayer sent straight to God.

The first one that was actually answered, since Jungkook’s hands quickly slipped under your dress while you kicked off your shoes. He turned you around again, face against the wall, and removed your underwear.

You gasped at his touch on your wet entrance, arching your back so that he could see your pussy in its full glory.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” He murmured, starting to run his palm on your pussy.

You moaned, grinding against his hand in search of his touch while he steadied your hips with the strong grip of his free hand.

“Already purring like a kitten, baby?”

Another moan escaped from your lips, this time loudly, when he inserted his middle finger in your throbbing core, feeling it clench around his touch.

“Such a good girl. You didn’t lie to me.” He commented in a hiss, inserting another finger to test your tightness and starting to pump his digits on your most sensitive spot.

“So tight. Will you be able to take my cock, baby?”

“Y-yes. Yes I will.” You answered in between your heavy breaths and moans, chasing the pleasure that his movements gave you.

You suddenly let out a sharp cry when you felt his hand slapping your ass cheek without notice. But the lingering pain had the only effect of heightening the pleasure and getting you even more wet.

Hu chuckled, spanking you one more time.

“Fuck! Jungkook!”

He had always loved it when you said his name during sex, and he still did apparently, since he started pumping his digits harder inside you. The lewd sounds of your pussy soon filled the silence of the night.

When his other hand reached your clit and started drawing quick circles around it, your legs started shivering and your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. If it wasn’t for the wall, you’d probably fall on your knees when the orgasm hit you. You moaned so loud that you almost sounded like a dying animal.

“That’s it baby. Cum for me.”

His words only made it worse and you couldn’t help but feel like a fire ball hit you right in the belly. Your walls clenched around his pumping digits and soon your climax reached an unprecedented high, making you ejaculate on his hand while waves of pleasure went through your body like an electric shock.

“Oh my God!” Was is reaction to the mess you just made.

He let out a satisfied laugh, retracting his fingers from your overstimulated core just to smear your arousal on your own lips.

“Open your mouth, baby. I want you to taste yourself – the way I make you feel.”

You obeyed, and even if you were still panting and barely able to function, you took his fingers in you mouth, rotating your tongue around them and sucking every drop of your own arousal before letting them out with a pop.

“Good girl.” He praised you softly, caressing your hair. “Now get on your knees for me.”

Again, you obeyed without hesitation while he unzipped his pants and pumped himself a few times in front of your face.

You looked up at him, licking your lips. You could still taste your slick on them, but you wanted something different. You wanted his taste. And you were so eager to get it, that you didn’t waste any time.

You soon wrapped your mouth around his hard cock, sucking it like it was your last meal. But letting you have it your way was not Jungkook’s plan. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tying them up in a ponytail that was only held by his own hand, and started thrusting inside your mouth until tears were gathering at the corner of your eyes.

A deep growl escaped from his lips at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock and your messed up make up smeared all over your face.

“My little whore. Always so good for me.” He said through his panting, face fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

And probably there wasn’t gonna be one. For all you knew, the police could come at any moment and take him back to his cell – this time, forever. But, if anything, the thrill just added something extra to the whole situation, making it even more exciting.

The rhythm of his deep thrusts against your throat soon made you gag. And that was it. That was what he wanted, what he was looking for.

“Oh shit! Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

His cum shot straight down your throat, filling you with his warm liquid. You loved his taste. You always had since the first time he sucked his cock. You were only fifteen back then, and you had no idea how to do it. But he was older than you and he guided your every movement, teaching you what he liked and what he wanted. You thought you’d spit him out, but you always swallowed. You liked it. You liked the taste of his orgasm and you liked to know that you were the one to make him cum like that.

“Take off your dress and bra.”

Your jaw was still feeling numb and your legs weak when he ordered you to undress, but you still obeyed, in a daze.

“Now bend over the couch.”

Again, you didn’t raise any question. You just crawled towards the couch and rested your chest on the pillows, closing your eyes while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart beating strong, muffled by the padded fabric of the couch. The only other sound was that of his steps, getting closer and closer to you until he dropped heavily on his knees, resting his large hands on your ass cheeks and parting them.

He let out a pleased moan and you could feel his gaze devouring the most intimate part of your body. You didn’t even need to look or feel him to know that he was getting hard again. And you felt proud. You arched your back and spread your legs a big wider, offering him the whole show. You loved to know that he wanted you so bad. Just the thought of his desire aroused you more than anything else.

He chuckled, spanking you again and making you gasp at the sharp feel of his palm against your sensitive skin.

“God, you’ve always loved being a slut for me. Am I right?”

You thought the question was rhetoric, so you didn’t respond. But when he gave you another spank and bent over you, pulling your hair to get your ear closer to his lips, you knew he wanted to hear your voice.

“Answer me. Whose little slut are you?”

“Y-yours, Jungkook. I’m your little slut.”

He chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair while caressing your reddened ass cheek and pressing his lips on your ear.

“Good girl.” He praised you, slowly starting to align the tip of his cock with your wet entrance.

You whimpered at the feel, arching your back even more to look for more friction. Seeing you like that, so eager to have him inside of you, was all it took for him to sink deep inside your core, filling you with all his length and stretching your walls.

“Fuck! You got so tight, baby.”

You did. While he was away, you didn’t have sex with anybody and you only started thinking about that when you met Seokjin. Not because you really wanted to, but because you felt like it was a necessary step to get what you wanted. Sure, Jin was handsome, but he was no Jungkook. Your husband, your first love, your first everything – he was the only one who could make you wet just by staring at you. He had that power – the power to make your head spin like you had too many drinks.

Jungkook hold your hips in place and started pounding you hard, making you moan at every thrust until you were just a hot wet mess at his mercy.

“Jungkook..” That was all you could say, breathless, while feeling your walls clench around his cock like they were holding to dear life.

He went balls deep inside of you, fucking you for all the times he didn’t in the past three years. It was intoxicating, and you knew you could never get enough of that feeling – of him.

“Jungkook.. cum inside me, please.” You whimpered, pleading him with a mere whisper when you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and more imprecise. Your orgasm was close too, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t pull out. You wanted to feel every drop of him.

“Y/N.. fuck!” Was all he said while he sank deep inside your core, filling you up with his cum and pumping it in to get you closer to your climax.

You came with his name on your lips and the lewd sounds of your sex filling your ears like the sweetest music you’d ever heard. Your hands grabbed the fabric of the couch and you could feel your saliva dripping down the side of your lips, parted by the intense sensation of your orgasm.

He dropped with his chest pressing on your back. You could feel his heavy breath against your skin and his heartbeat trying to get a calmer pace while the high of the climax was slowly fading away.

“We are leaving tonight, baby.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence. “I’m not going back to jail. I’m not gonna let them tear us apart again.”

And again, even after everything that had happened, you believed him.

I guess this is my prison. You are. But I don’t want to escape.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[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.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 7

Word Count: 4k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!felix, sub!reader, dom!reader, mentions of violence, character death, drugging, noncon, breeding kink, binding, doggy

GIF CREDIT @christopherbanq

You wake up in a warm embrace, surrounded by the sweet, vanilla scent of Felix. Opening your eyes, you’re met with the splatter of his freckles that seem to glow under the sunlight. Everything feels perfect. It feels right, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever, protected from all that has happened or will happen. But you can’t, the memories of last night’s darkness creep around the corners of the brightly lit room, seeping the warmth out of it until everything is plunged into darkness.

Felix opens his eyes, his bright sparkling eyes, unaware of the darkness surrounding him, his ignorance protecting him. But his light diminishes as his gaze focuses on you.

“Noona, why are you crying?” He asks, arms pulling you even closer to him to the point where you don’t know where your skin ends and his begins.

“Chan…” You sputter, little sobs rattling your chest now. Felix frowns sharply, “Did he do something to you?”

You shake your head, your tears now flowing down your cheeks. “He’s in the hospital. Someone attacked us while we were coming back from the cinema yesterday.”

Felix bolts upright, pushing you at an arm’s length and scrutinizing every inch of your body. “Are you hurt?”

“No, but Chan is.” You wail, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his shoulder. “He’s hurt really bad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” For the first time, Felix doesn’t comfort you, his body rigid in your embrace and you hesitantly pull back to look at him. He is completely still, a numb look on his face. And you suddenly realize how thoughtless you’ve been. Despite their fight, Felix and Chan have been best friends for years, way before you met either of them. You should’ve told him as soon as it happened.

“Is he going to be okay?” His lips quiver as he speaks, his eyes terrified and looking through yours for help, and you could smack yourself for being so selfish.

“Oh, baby.” You breathe, pulling him into your embrace again. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

_______________________

He wasn’t.

Chan hasn’t woken up by the time you both visit him in the hospital, and the doctors were giving you vague responses every time you tried to ask about his condition--if he’s going to be okay, if he’s even gonna make it--and that petrifies you.

“We’re doing the best we can, but I can’t say anything for certain. He’s in a really bad condition.” The doctor informs you after you’d asked for the millionth time. You nod heavily and he lets you know that he’ll be there if there is anything else you need before he leaves. Yeah, right. The doctors were basically running from you at this point. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it meant.

“Thank you, doctor.” You mumble. You feel guilty, like this is all your fault for wishing for Felix to come back, like somehow this had been a bargain by a cruel god, giving you Felix back but taking Chan away.

As soon as the doctor leaves, Felix falls to the floor beside the bed sobbing. You run to him and wrap your arms around him and he immediately leans into your touch. “I did this.” He wails and your body goes stiff, your breath stuck in your throat, choking you.

But then he continues, “I wished for this the night he threw me out. I was so angry at him, but I never wanted it to really happen.”

Your body turns to jelly, the fear that had gripped it was so intense that it left no energy in its wake, and you can’t even caress Felix’s back to comfort him.

_______________________

The police interview you over and over, asking you to remember if there is something about the man who mugged you that you’re forgetting that could help identify him. You don’t have to force yourself to remember, you see him in your dreams every night, and every night you wake up screaming, poor Felix having to comfort you and kiss you back to sleep, never once complaining.

Through it all, those few agonizing days, you held a terrible secret close to your chest. You felt wretched just thinking about it, but you couldn’t help it. You knew he was going to die anyway. You just wished it would happen sooner than later so you could properly grieve instead of being stuck in this fake limbo, pretending like you think he’s going to make it, even to Felix, so that he wouldn’t completely break down.

You go to visit him less and less until you stop completely, which doesn’t paint you in a very favorable light in front of law enforcement or the doctors, letting Felix go on his own to the hospital every day. But fuck them. What do they know about the pain you’re going through? The guilt?

When it finally happens, you can’t believe it. They say he coded in the night and they tried to do everything to save him, even brought him back a couple of times, but it was ultimately useless. He was gone.

You had to see him for yourself to believe it. You went alone. Felix couldn’t bear to look at his best friend’s now dead body. He begged you not to go but you needed to.

As you gaze across his face, you’re thrust back to that night. You had heard that dead people often have a peaceful look on their face, but Chan didn’t look peaceful. It almost looks angry, accusatory, asking you why you weren’t there for him.

He doesn’t forgive you, but it’s okay. You don’t forgive yourself either.

_______________

The case officially turned into a murder investigation following Chan’s death. His body was handed over to the coroner to do an autopsy and try to gather any forensic evidence left, but neither yielded much information, and the police had no leads.

Soon, the case turned cold.

As for you, you had moved in with Felix,, unable to step back into your apartment without Chan. Fearing that in doing so you’d be acknowledging that he’s gone, and then his spirit would remember to come back to haunt you.

Felix takes such good care of you, even though he’s the one who has the right to be hurt more. He stuck around you all the time, making you feel safe and comforting you. He also kept his distance as much as he could. You could tell he wanted to seek comfort in your body, to help each other through this pain, but you were selfish as always. You only let him comfort you. You never comforted him back.

As the months passed, Felix started getting more and more needy, making you feel even more wretched even though he never said anything. He loved you and you loved him, but Chan’s death had pushed a wedge between you. You couldn’t touch the younger boy without feeling guilty. It felt like you were cheating on Chan more than you ever did before, and so you kept Felix at a distance.

For his part, Felix never outright made an advance on you, respecting your need to grieve, but you could tell from the boner he’d get every time you kissed him even a sweet innocent little kiss or put your arms around him that he needed more, and it made you feel even more horrible. You couldn’t help Chan when he was alive and now you can’t help Felix. You felt like the most selfish fucking human being in the world.

So when you’re woken up from sleep one night, feeling hot and with something hard poking against your ass, you decide to finally give back.

“Noona...” Felix whimpers into your ear, nuzzling his face in the nape of your neck, making goosebumps erupt along your body. You weren’t ready to go all the way yet but at least you could give him some release.

Turning on your back, you guide him to straddle you and let yourself slip into the right headspace. "You dirty little thing, humping your noona in her sleep?"

His eyes light up when he realizes that for the first time in a long time, you’re reciprocating, and he sighs in relief, starting to grind his hips against yours. Tantalizing, you lower the straps of your nightgown, a delicate pink satin piece that Felix bought for you, to expose your tits for him. He hums appreciatively, reaching out to touch, but you slap his hand away. “Only look.”

He shudders, nodding, and humps against you faster. "Noona, please, fuck me. Fuck your dumb baby."

"No whining." You reprimand, lifting his shirt up to his mouth and he obediently bites on it, muffling his noises. With the shirt up, his boxers are exposed, and you watch as every time he thrusts forward, the tip of his dick pokes out from his boxers, red and leaking. “And I thought you’d thank me for being so nice to a pervert like you.”

Felix pants around the fabric in his mouth, his dick dripping over your panties. Placing your hand on his ass, you feel the muscle clench and relax as he ruts desperately against you. “Is this how you wanna fuck noona? You think your little dick can make me feel good?”

He pushes the shirt out of his mouth with his tongue and babbles. “I can noona. Just let me put it inside.” He grabs his dick and runs the head of it over your clothed slit, making you shiver at the stimulation. Then he pushes the head against your hole but is prevented from pushing in because of the underwear “Just let me put it in, noona.”

“You’re a greedy little kitten aren’t you? Put your hands up to your chest, kitty.” You order, and he reluctantly obeys. “Now stick your tongue out and pant for me.”

He does so with a flush, looking like a cat in heat. Absolutely filthy.

“That’s it. That’s a good, boy. Putting on a show for noona.”

He nods happily, high off the praise you’re giving him. "I'm gonna cum for you noona. Watch me cum for you."

“I’m looking, little whore. Cum for me.” You purr, cupping handfuls of his ass as you encourage his now sloppy thrusts.

Felix cries out, cum spurting out of the tip of his cock and landing on your pretty silk nightgown. You tut disappointedly, “Look at the mess you made, kitten. You ruined my nightgown with your filthy cum.”

“I’m sorry, noona.” Felix pants, not looking sorry at all. In fact, he looks enraptured by the sight in front of him. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He falls over your chest, suckling on your breasts gently as his breathing slows down and becomes deep as he falls asleep.

_____________________

That’s how things go for a long while. Just you helping Felix take the edge off without actually going all the way. You can tell he’s disappointed. He must’ve thought that this was the start of you reigniting your relationship, but you still can’t get yourself to be there for him in the way he needs you. And despite you acting romantically together and going on dates, you never officially acknowledged that you are in a relationship, and you can tell that this, more than anything, hurt him the most.

You feel pity and self-hate fill you up as you play with the boy’s hair, his head resting on your lap.

“How do you like the cocktail?” Felix asks lazily, taking you out of your thoughts.

You blink and take another sip of the drink he made you, appreciating the taste on your tongue. It’s actually pretty good, and you tell him exactly that. “But it seems quite strong. I’m a little lightheaded already. What’s in it, kitten?”

Felix giggles as he presses a finger to his mouth, making a shushing sound. “It's a secret.”

You smile fondly at him, soaking up his laughter along with the afternoon son, the calming rhythm of lix's breathing and the strong drink making you feel sleepy. You decide you’re gonna ask him if he’d like to take a nap with you, but before you can form your words, you abruptly get much sleepier, your eyelids turning to lead as they struggle to stay open to the world spinning around you.

You finally manage a little groan, attracting Felix’s attention. He looks up at you in question and his curious eyes are the last thing you see before it all goes black

_____________________

You wake up feeling hot and sticky. Groggily coming to, you blurrily see a mop of blonde hair over your exposed chest and feel wetness over your nipples. Despite your heavy head, you can immediately tell it’s Felix, and your thoughts trudge along as you try to think of what you were doing last but the memory is too fuzzy.

You’re easily distracted when you feel his moans against your skin as he kisses and suckles on your breasts, his hips dragging over your thigh needily. You try to move your hands to push him away, confused and mad that he is touching you without permission, but you only hear the sound of metal clanking as your hands stay above your head, and with a panic, you realize that you were shackled to the bed.

At the sound, Felix lifts his head up and smiles at you sweetly, as if nothing about this was weird. “Noona, you’re awake!”

You stare at him in bewilderment, and he finally realizes what’s wrong. Sheepishly, he explains, “I’m sorry. You were taking so long to wake up and I couldn’t help myself.”

His words don’t really make the situation much clearer. "What is happening? Why am I bound?"

He smiles, moving up your body so his nose is touching yours. "You've been bad noona, rejecting me for so long. I tried to wait. I tried to be good for you but you still kept rejecting me. So I decided to push things along a little."

"What?" You ask, throat dry.

"I put a sedative in your drink so you'd pass out and I can play with you." He explains cheerily, like that was a completely normal and benign thing to do.

"What the fuck, Felix?” You shout, pulling on your shackles in alarm. “You're crazy."

"Crazy over you." He giggles, pinning your hands to the bed so you wouldn’t struggle. “Now stop or you’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re the one who is hurting me!”

He frowns. “Don’t say that, noona. I’ve been taking good care of you, haven’t I?”

“And you think that gives you the right to drug and assault me?”

His frown deepens at that, all air of playfulness gone from around him. “Stop. Saying. That.” He grits, “I can’t assault you when you’re mine.”

He leans back and palms at your breasts greedily, his thumbs brushing over your wet buds, and you struggle to not arch up into his touch, a fresh wave of arousal sticking your shorts to your pussy even more. “You’re so perfect, noona.”

"Let me go." You cry, gradually getting more and more panicked.

"I'll never let you go again." His voice is gruff and it sends a shiver down your spine as he rubs his fingers over your clit coarsely. “So stop this or you’ll make me really angry, noona.”

You still immediately, thinking back on what he did last time he got mad. You could still feel the suffocation gripping your throat.

“If you’re wet, noona. I’ll know you want me too.” He pulls back from your chest and slowly peels your shorts down your legs, a gasp escaping him when he is undoubtedly greeted by your underwear sticking to your slick, puffy lips in arousal. “I knew it. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

He grabs the top of your panties, pulling them up so they’d rub over your pussy, teasing you and delighting in watching you involuntarily squirm. “You’re so sensitive, noona.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” He slinks your panties down your legs then pulls your thighs up, spreading your legs wide for him, and moaning out in appreciation. “Ah, fuck, noona…so hot.”

His fingers slowly rub over your exposed, drenched pussy, driving you crazy with the deliberate, wide strokes. You have to fight hard to not close your legs around him. “Want more, noona?”

You bite down on your tongue. You won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. Resolutely, his fingers trail down your pussy and into your warm, tight heat, and you can’t fight back the gasp that is ripped from you. You shake as his fingers ever so slowly pump in and out of you. And when he puts his mouth on you, your moans flow out, not caring anything for your ego.

Felix moans into your pussy, eating you out slowly too, maddening slow as if he was kissing you. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue on you make you burn in shame and arousal.

He stays between your legs a long time, driving you mad, his tongue deliberately moving along your folds and and his lips sucking on your sensitive skin, while his fingers stay inside your pussy and relentlessly but equally as slowly rub against that sweet spot inside you. You feel the burn gradually build in your body, it fries your brain and by the time you cum, your entire nervous system is on fire.

He climbs up your body, looking down at you with the most fucked out look on his pretty face, his eyes absolutely glazed over with lust as he bucks his crotch against you and kisses your mouth the same way he did your pussy. You taste yourself on him so clearly it feels like the taste is imprinted on his tongue forever.

Pulling away, a trail of saliva and cum connects your lips. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Let me go, baby.” You coax gently, hoping he won’t get upset if you’re sweet. “Let me go and I'll fuck you."

He shakes his head, "I know you're lying to me, noona. I know I have to break you in first before I let you go."

You pale, bile rising up your throat at the ominous words. "Break me in… how?"

"You’ll see." He giggles, craning your neck up and kissing your skin harshly, growling in between the sloppy kisses, "But when you're over those worthless boys, maybe you can fuck me again. I hate being a bad boy but this is the only way to make you see."

Pulling back from your stinging neck, he presses his dick to your entrance. Your pussy spasms around the tip of his dick, and he chuckles deeply. “Look how needy your pussy is for me. Noona was wasting time being a little slut and letting those bastards touch her when she could've had me." He says reproachfully, as if you were a misbehaving child, and it makes your anger flare up and overpower your fear.

"I don't want you, you freak." You spit out and he slaps you, hard, the force of it busting your lip open. Taking a deep break, he calms himself down and smiles again. "Now that's not very nice, noona. After all I've done for you." He leans down and licks at the drop of blood that sprung from your lip, moaning at the taste.

"You made me wait for so long, noona. I can't wait anymore." He shakes a little, as if it really was hurting him physically to hold back. Pushing into you, he lets out a shuddering cry. "I love you so much. You're finally mine."

You arch your back as he buries himself all the way inside of you, and he takes that opportunity to bend down and pluck one of your nipples into his mouth. You whimper against him, making him speed up his thrusts.

“I’m making you feel good, aren’t I, noona?” He grunts, keeping your legs wide open as he fucks into you but you don’t reply, angering him. Suddenly, you’re flipped onto your stomach, and he pushes himself between your spread legs so you can't close them, plunging his dick back inside you. “You will not ignore me, noona. I will not allow it.”

He steadies himself on both sides of you and leans over you, trapping you under him and fucking you hard and slow, trying to get as deep inside you as possible despite his size and making you shiver as his dick drags against your walls. He gradually speeds up, his dick gliding easily over the track it made, overwhelming your poor pussy.

He fucks you so well, and you’re entirely, completely ashamed of how good it feels. It seems like he is intent on humiliating you, his dick hitting the sweet spot inside of you perfectly with each thrust, and your pussy keeps clenching around him more and more as the sound of your flesh smacking together fills the room. You’re transfixed under him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open with your back perfectly arched to receive his thrusts, and soon, he grunts into your ear, "I'm so close."

Your eyes snap open urgently. “Pull out. I'm not on birth control. You can’t cum inside me." You explain hastily. You had stopped taking the pill ever since Chan had passed away. You weren’t fucking Felix so you felt no need to take it.

"I know, noona." He says and you almost sigh in relief, fully expecting Felix to whine but pull out. But to your horror, he continues, "Gonna breed you so you'll never leave me again."

Your breath catches in your throat and your nerves go numb. You sob, “Felix, please no. Pull out, baby please. I won’t leave. I’ll stay.”

“You will.” He promises you, and doesn’t pull back. Instead, fucking you harder and spanking your ass as he grunts loudly, "Take it like a good noona."

He empties himself inside of you, his hot cum flooding your pussy, and to your great shame, that pushes you to cum too, your pussy milking him obediently. He praises you happily, "Good noona, taking all my cum. Your pussy knows you belong to me."

You think he’ll be done now, having fucked you and filled you up. But to your horror, he turns you on your side and embraces you from behind. Lifting one leg up in the air, he starts fucking you again. With how wet you were and his previous ejaculation, wet lewd sounds fill the room along with his low grunts and your breathless gasps.

He spends the whole night fucking you, taking you in every position conceivable and making sure to empty every little drop inside of you, apologizing for being a bad boy and promising you that he'll take any punishment you give him once you’re pregnant with his baby and he can be sure you'll stay.

The worst part is that he makes sure you cum too, seeming intent on not allowing you any space to later claim like you didn’t enjoy yourself, murmuring praises into your ear every time you orgasm. "Good noona, cumming around my cock. Kitty is so happy with you. You wanna cum again?"

You are almost passed out when he’s done fucking you. Leaving you used up and sprawled out on the bed, he gets up to retrieve something. When he gets back on the bed, you purposefully don’t look at him, expecting him to now try to suck up to you and get you to forgive him.

But he doesn’t say anything and you suddenly jolt at the sharp sting you feel along your inner thigh. You look down in horror to see felix carving something with a knife onto your skin. His own name.

You shout and begin to struggle, only to quickly realize that you shouldn't be moving around with a sharp knife so close to your genitals, and Felix is aware of that too. He ignores your tearful pleas and pained screams until he’s all done. Brandishing the now bloody knife, he whispers conspiratorially, “Wanna know something, noona?”

You don’t reply but he doesn’t care, smiling as he pushes the knife to your throat. “This is the knife I used to stab Jisung.” Your stomach drops and your blood beats frenziedly against the knife pressed to your skin. “It’s also the same knife I used to kill Chan.”

You stay frozen in place, not even breathing, not even blinking.

"I didn't want to kill him. I really loved him. He was the only one I was willing to share you with but he left me no choice.” He goes on, pouting slightly as if he was lamenting losing his favorite mug. “But it’s better this way. Now you’re all mine. And once you're broken in, I'll let you use this to mark me up too."

____________________

A/N: let me know what you think of the ending. I love to hear it!

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts)   (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

/

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

/

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

/

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

/

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

/

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

/

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

/

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?  

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

/

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

/

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

/

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

/

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

/

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

/

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell ​@partypoison00 ​ @90ssantiago

[leggything]

Closer Together

When you brought home those transformation candies to bring us closer together I was wary. We were fairly adventurous in the bedroom and had discovered we both had a thing for lycra but the idea you had of turning yourself into a zentai suit for me to wear was a lot to wrap my head around. It was risky too - we both knew that if one of us came to orgasm while wearing the other, the transformation would become permanent. We had built up a lot of trust together - more than with any of my other partners - but I was still afraid I would lose control and end up losing you in the process.

But we were both still curious and turned on by the idea, so after a few intense discussions, you swallowed the square green candy and gave me a kiss as the transformation set in. At first the candy seemed just like an intense aphrodisiac, you were as hard as I’ve ever felt you and your were touching and rubbing all over my body. Then I noticed your skin starting to take on a green tinge and a fine fabric texture that drove me wild. I ran my hands all over your changing body as we kissed and noticed your cock had become stuck against your stomach - reduced to a quickly shrinking bulge running along your abdomen.

As I ran my hand along your crotch I broke away from our kiss. You looked at me with a mixture of love, lust, and calm before you closed your eyes and let the fabric erase them. I watched a satisfied smile spread across your lips as your nose disappears and I dove back in for one final kiss, feeling your lips bond together into your featureless lycra head.

I lifted you into my lap - you were surprisingly light now - and felt you exhale against my cheek as you began to loose shape. As you wrapped your deflating arms around me, I became afraid you were gone forever - but the buzz and vibration of your spandex skin where I touched you reassured me that you were much more than conscious.

Holding you, I could feel your ache to be worn and as I pulled down your zipper I felt the same desire. Your fabric felt so amazingly alive I wanted, I needed to feel you covering every inch of me. Slipping inside you, one leg at a time, I could barely contain myself - feeling your fabric tingling against me as I slid my leg down. Your toes-holes practically leap onto my feet, tickling my soles. I pulled you up to my waist and felt your vibrations starting to tease my cock so intensely that I pull you back down sharply and scold you to not push me too fast. The way you gripped each cheek of my ass and hugged my abdomen as I pulled you up onto my upper body felt like you were made of muscle - holding tight to my every curve.

Pulling on your hood I was surprised to feel your kiss again, somehow coming from inside your fabric skin. I breathed through your face as you caressed my lips, pressing ever so slightly against my mouth - and against my asshole I noticed - while I reached for the zipper.

Such ecstasy and anticipation as I teased you, pulling the zipper slowly up my back. In a way, you were wearing me as much as I was wearing you holding onto me like a precious possession. Finally, with the zipper pulled all the way up to the nape of our neck we were fully together. I felt the entirety of your full body hug and couldn’t help but rub my hands against your fabric, against my body, against us. I felt you squeezing me ever tighter but I also felt my body flexing and expanding, trying to stretch you to your limit. It must have been a residual effect of the candy but I swear I was growing into you as you pressed into me - pushing into the barrier where I ended and you began until we started to become one.

Sure enough, as I rubbed my hand across our body, it didn’t feel like your fabric, it felt like our skin - the tingling I had felt when I first slipped into you was our tingling now. We noticed my breathing becoming less prominent as our face began to smooth over and felt what used to be my cock melt into a sensitive round bulge at our crotch.

At this realisation of our oneness there was a small moment of panic when we tried to grab for the zipper only to realize that it had melted into our back and that we were sealed together in/as green lycra. It’s possible, we thought, that if we allowed the candy’s effects enough time to wear off we would slowly return to our individual forms - but those former selves felt so empty and incomplete compared to the us we were now. Plus, we were so horny - our whole body teetering at the edge of orgasm as we stroked our beautiful smooth fabric, tickled our lycra toes and massaged our spandex chest, squeezed our squishy bulge and squishier ass.

For a moment - right at the edge - we saw ourselves, both the individuals we had been and the composite we were now, and we decided to surrender our old selves to this new reality. We came together, not with the genitals we no longer had but with our whole beautiful body. Together in spandex bliss we came closer that we could have imagined.

Thanks for reading! All the images in this story are of me. More videos and pictures of me in zentai and other lycra gear can be found on my onlyfans:

[diaphragmjellyfish]

You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial​

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing. 

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state. 

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that. 

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was. 

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him. 

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!” 

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed. 

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long. 

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem. 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat. 

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones. 

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess. 

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him. 

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building. 

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions. 

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful. 

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm. 

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed. 

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly. 

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded. 

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care. 

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.” 

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees. 

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about. 

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do. 

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside. 

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously. 

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.” 

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth. 

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration. 

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire. 

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke. 

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.” 

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it. 

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable. 

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap. 

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along. 

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense. 

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered. 

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy. 

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.” 

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more. 

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen. 

“Can I?” He questioned delicately. 

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?” 

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely. 

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end. 

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him. 

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.” 

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different. 

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face. 

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed. 

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles. 

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes. 

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare. 

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you. 

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking. 

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck. 

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ‘come-hither’ motion once more. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing. 

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you. 

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned. 

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.” 

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited. 

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned. 

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock. 

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal. 

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.” 

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned. 

“Yes.” 

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle. 

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes. 

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple. 

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly. 

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.” 

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second. 

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him. 

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.” 

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed. 

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…” 

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.” 

[chaoticforever]

End Of The Line | Yandere Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

A/N: Got a request for a Teacher Steve x student male reader. Reader is 18 and Steve is 22.

"C'mon dude. We have to leave now, especially if the Janitor comes in here." 

You stood up from your position on the floor as Michael pulled his pants up, zipping it up as he shook his head, rubbing your slightly hard member over the thick fabric of your pants. 

"Don't worry, he won't be coming back any time soon. 20 bucks is all he needed to let us use this room," He told you as he continued to rub his hands over the outline of your member, sucking on your neck, "Just relax for me, babe. You gave me a blowjob, so I want to return the favor. Please let me blow you. I'll make you feel good and I know you want it." He whispered in your ear. 

Ugh, you hated the way he made you feel because you did want it. Very bad. 

He unbuckled your belt and your senses came rushing back to you, causing you to back away from him as he pouted.

"Unfortunately, we can't." You insisted, buckling your belt back up and grabbing your bag, watching as he did the same, "You know that Principal Fury is waiting for a chance to bust us for skipping again, so we can get kicked out of school during our senior year. He's always hated us and wants us gone." 

"But he can't kick us out! Were seniors!" 

"Despite us being seniors, he still can," You sighed and Michael pouted very cutely, "Stop pouting so cutely, okay? We can finish what we started at my house. My parents will be out until pretty late." 

Michael grinned and planted a kiss on your lips, "Okay, I'll hold you to it." 

You rolled your eyes and took a note out of your pocket, handing it to him as he took it, looking confused, "That note will excuse you for being late for class. I forged your mom's signature and don't question how I did that." You added in, seeing the questioning look he sent you. 

Michael read over the note and he was amazed how much it looked like his mom's handwriting, "I have the coolest boyfriend in the world. Were gonna forge signatures more often." 

"Uh-huh, sure. Go to class now, Mikey."

You gave him a kiss and left the janitor's closet, heading to your first period. 

You opened the door and walked inside, "I'm sorry that I'm late, Mr. Evans, but-" You paused, finally seeing that the teacher was not Mr. Evans but someone else, "You're not Mr. Evans." 

The blonde teacher shook his head, "No, I'm Mr. Rogers. You're new teacher. Who are you and why are you late for class?" 

Oh fuck. Guess you had another strict teacher. Though, you found it a little strange that his eyes seemed to look over your form, and also seemed to be outright gawking at you. 

You placed the note that had your mom's signature on the desk and walked over to your seat, giving your friend your bag as he took it gracefully. 

"Sorry, for being late, sir. I had a doctors appointment." You sat down next to Matt and totally missed the way Mr. Rogers' whole body tensed at the word sir. 

"Yeah, and I bet this appointment involved having your dick examined." George Brockers said from the other side of the room, knowing where you really were.

Everyone in this class knew that you were in the Janitors closet with Michael.

Some of the class snickered along with George. 

"Yes. That's right, George. And while I was there I ran into your gynecologist, who told me to remind you to keep your vagina clean unless you want a foot up your ass." You responded without looking at him, as laughs and giggles filled the room and George stayed silent.

"Alright class, settle down! Get back to work now!" Mr. Rogers ordered sternly, as his baby blue eyes looked at... you? 

XXXXX XXXXX

Three months have passed since Mr. Rogers became your new teacher and he was...something. That's the right word for you blonde teacher. 

Strange is a word to describe him, too. 

For starters, he had decided to place you in the front seat of the classroom, away from Matt and Harry, despite you all being seniors and he seemed to stare  at you a lot which creeped you out. 

There's also the fact that he managed to show up wherever you were. At the restaurant where you worked and would sometimes stay until closing, somehow  he got to stand near you at the carnival when you were there with Michael, and that his arm seemed to graze over your arm when he tried to help you with work. 

When you brought it up to Michael, his only response was that you were just overreacting, and you may have been overreacting a little now that you thought about it, so you decided not to think about Mr. Rogers anymore and spend time with your boyfriend. 

You two spent some time together at the park, eating ice cream as Michael kept trying to steal some of yours, before deciding to head back to your place. 

Once you entered your house, the smell of food immediately entered your nostrils and you knew that your mom was cooking some tasty food. 

"Hey mom! I'm back and something smells really good. What are you cook-" 

You stopped midway and closed your mouth at seeing Mr. Rogers sitting on the couch with your mom and dad. 

Did you forget to mention that you and Mr. Rogers were neighbors, too? 

"What are you doing here, Mr. Rogers?" 

Mom stood up from her spot on the couch, "Steve has brought up some concerns about you and we would like to talk to you alone. Michael, I'm sorry you came here, but we really need to speak with our son alone. Can you leave now?"

"He doesn't need to leave. You can say what you have to say in front of him." You stated firmly, tightening your grip on his hand as your dad shook his head, standing up as well. 

"I don't want that son of a bitch corrupting my son anymore! Get out of my house, Michael!" Your Dad shouted. 

"Whoa! Dad don't shout-" 

"Don't tell me what I can do in my house, okay?" Dad exclaimed, turning to face Michael, "Now get out of my house!" 

Michael released your hand and walked towards without saying a word as you ran after him.  

"Wait Michael!" You called out after him, but he didn't stop walking. He walked out of your house and hopped into his car, taking off down the road. You sighed and walked back inside your house to face your parents, and your teacher, "Well, he's gone. Now talk." 

"Look son, we think it's best that you stop seeing Michael immediately."

"Why would I do that?" You questioned, "And why would you even ask me to do that when you know that I love him?" 

"Sweetie, we have noticed how different you've been acting lately and we know that Michael is the reason for it," Mom spoke up next, "Mr. Rogers has informed us about you skipping class, your grades dropping to a low percentage, and that you have been making out with Michael along with drinking alcohol."

You now turned to face Rogers, "Oh, so you're telling my parents about all the things I do now, huh? Do you do this with other students, or is it just me?" 

"I'm only expressing my concerns to your parents the same way I do with my other students as well," He told you, but you didn't believe him, "And if I'm being honest with you, Michael isn't the greatest of all guys to be with."

"Hmm, well good thing I didn't ask for your honesty on my relationship!" 

"Don't raise your voice at adults, Y/N!" Dad scolded, "Now, Mr. Rogers has a point. That boy has corrupted you. Changed you completely. And I'm not going to stand by and let this continue."  

"You know, I don't get y'all. Out of all people, I thought that you both would see that Michael is a good person, and makes me a better person. He makes me happy and I thought that would be enough for you guys to like him, but looks like I was wrong. Once again." 

You walked upstairs to your room, but not before shooting Steve a glare as you retreated to your room, ignoring your parents. You flopped on your bed angrily, as you closed your eyes. 

"That damn Rogers." You muttered angrily, as your eyes remained closed and soon you drifted off to sleep. 

XXXXX XXXXX

Steve stood inside your bedroom, watching as you slept. 

He managed to come in here by telling your parents that he had to use the bathroom along with trying to see if you would be okay with being tutored, and they agreed to his request. 

God, you looked so cute when you were sleeping, but you looked even hotter when you were upset which he loved watching you being angry downstairs. 

The blonde haired male had become obsessed with you ever since he saw you on his first day of school. 

He knew that it was wrong. 

You were his student and he was your teacher. Relationships between the two were forbidden. But you were both adults. He was only 22 years old, and you were 18. Only a four year difference. You were an angel. His angel. 

Steve unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans along with his boxers. 

He wrapped his hand around his cock, and stroked it slowly at first as images of you entered his mind. 

The blue eyed male imagined you bent over the counter as he plunged his dick into your juicy, delicious hole. Him dominating you, as you cried out his name, him stroking your cock. Or him plunging his finger into your tight hole, watching as he had you pinned under him, looking so helpless and desperate. 

All of those dirty thoughts ended up becoming filthier and filthier, causing Steve to pick up his pace. He strokes himself harder and faster, letting out a little moan. Luckily, that moan wasn't loud enough to wake you up. He guessed you were a deep sleeper. 

"Oh, Y/N..." He stroked his cock harder, thrusting becoming more rapid, heart rate increasing as his chest moved up and down. He reached his orgasm, "Mine." White come got all over your sheets and some of your body, as you face twitched slightly in response. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair,  pulling his pants and boxers up. 

He needed to leave for two reasons. 

To change his clothes, and get out of here before either you or your parents saw him in here. He left, but not before grabbing your dirty underwear in the hamper. He needed something of yours until he takes you for himself. He needs you now and he's going to have you. 

...By hook or by crook. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You blinked your eyes open after some time and sat up with a groan. The first thought running through your mind was, 'What the fuck is on my face?' 

You lifted your hand to touch your face and some sticky, white substance was on your face. What the fuck is this? 

When you looked down at your light blue sheets, you saw how it seemed to be drenched in something. 

Did you masturbate? No, you didn't. And you didn't have a wet dream cause you would have remembered it, and there's no way that it could have got on your face. 

Deciding not to dwell on this anymore, you went to your bathroom that was connected to your room and washed your face really good since you didn't know what the hell it was. 

Upon returning to your room, you peaked out your window to see that your parents car wasn't here. Good. You took your phone off the charger and called Michael. 

"Hey N/N." 

"Hey Michael. I'm so sorry for the way my parents acted towards you today." 

"Don't worry about it, love. It's okay." 

"But it's not okay. You've been nothing, but a good boyfriend to me and you didn't deserve any of that." 

"Seriously man, it's alright. Your parents were just being overprotective of you, and I understand where they're coming from." 

You smiled on the other side of the phone. You had the best boyfriend and also the toughest boyfriend ever. 

"Well, I'm really glad you're ok after all of that. And do you wanna pick me up and hang out today, or have you had enough of the L/N family for one day?" 

"I'll come pick you up and hopefully your parents aren't home because there is something I want to do to you that your parents wouldn't appreciate." 

You grinned, "Lucky for you, they aren't here right now and probably won't be for a while. Wow Michael, maybe you really are corrupting me. You're a bad boy." 

"Oh, I'm the baddest and I plan on corrupting you to the fullest," You both laughed and the sound of his laugh was so soothing to your ears, "I'll see you later, sweetcheeks." 

"I'll see you later, tree biscuit." 

You hung up the phone and placed it on the bed. You couldn't wait for him to get here. 

Until he arrives, you decide to watch TV and put on one of those Marvel movies. To be quite honest, you found it awfully strange how Mr. Rogers and your chemistry teacher, Mr. Stark looked a lot like the actors in the movie, Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr. Almost identical. 

Weird right? 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You paused the movie midway when you got a text message on your phone. 

Open the door. ~Michael. 

Excitement fluttered through you like a drug and you ran downstairs, opening the door. You frowned, not seeing him anywhere, but his car was parked in front of your house, his dark windows made it impossible for you to see him through it. 

You made a mental note to talk to him about that. You went over to his car and opened the door, "C'mon Michael, let's-" You paused midway, finally getting a good look at your boyfriend and you screamed. 

His body was in the front seat of the car, blood covering most of his body with a knife jammed into his side. You checked his pulse and let out a little sigh of relief that he had a pulse. A fading pulse, but a pulse nonetheless. 

He could be okay. But you didn't understand who would do this to him, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because you'd have to hurry or he would die. 

You ran back inside and upstairs to get your phone, but it was gone. What? You left it on the bed. You were sure of it. 

Music suddenly started playing throughout your house and it was a song you knew all too well. This was you and Michael's song that you both listened to when he asked you out. 

You walked down the stairs cautiously, but not before grabbing the emergency knife you kept in your closet for safety reasons. 

"Hello Y/N," Steve's voice came from behind you, causing you to turn around. He stood there with flowers in his hand as he sent you a dashing smile, "I got you your favorite flowers and I know that this is your favorite song." 

"What are you doing in my house?!" You screamed, holding the knife in front of you defensively when you saw him take a step forward. 

"I'm here for you. I'm here to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Despite being my student, I know that you are the one for me. We are meant to be together. I know it. Will you go out with me?" He asked, taking another step forward. 

You shook your head and watched as his face morphed into anger real quick,  "No, you sick fuck!" 

You stabbed him in the thigh as he winced in pain. You ran to the door, but was yanked back into his chest with one hand as he dropped the flowers on the floor with his other hand and used it to take the knife out of his thigh, wincing. 

He turned you around to face him and gripped your arms possessively. 

"You are so damn lucky that I love you. Even when you stabbed me, I can't hate you. I love you too much. I killed Michael for us to be together and I'm not letting you leave me," He kissed you forcibly, sucking on your earlobe, "Can't wait to breed you. You're going to be a good boy for me and let me breed you like the good bitch you are. To suck on your cock will be a dream come true for me and I won't have to imagine myself with your dirty underwear I stolen from your room or the cameras I had installed here." 

Of course, it wouldn't actually work because you were two guys and couldn't have a child, but what made it hotter was the fact that you couldn't. 

He loved the feeling of having complete control over you right now. It brought him great joy since you now knew who was in charge here. 

"You're mine, Y/N. You're mine as much as I'm yours and as you know, I'll kill anyone who dares to take you away from me. It's gonna be me and you until the end of the line." 

XXXXX XXXXX

[bluecookies02]

Kinktober2020 -ending kink fest

Dabi,Hawks,Shigaraki(separately)-❗️NSFW❗️

warnings: consensual gun play(dabi), wax play(hawks), public sex(shigaraki)

/masterlist/

pic credit:birf on twitter. follow her, fucking follow her you'll thank me

He will put a gun to your lips, make you loll your tongue out and drool over the barrel, his finger jolting and twitching on the trigger all while his face holds a nerve-wracking smile that you can't figure out.

The truth is, you look so beautiful, your knees sore and red, slightly spread apart on the floor while the small vibrator buzzes against your clit.

He can still see the glimmer of trust behind your eyes, your eyelids hooded and pupils blown wide.

"You're so fucking crazy, you know that?" He comments as his shoe slips between your legs, your sweet juice coating the once dry leather.

You nod, reaching your arms to his pants, clawing at the fabric in attempts to finally get him out of his clothes.

The gun slips out of your mouth, the now wet pipe gliding over your tits in small circling motions, stopping briefly at your hard nipples.

It then goes back under your chin, your eyes meeting Dabi's once he kneeled down to your level, his lips hungrily pushing against yours, his tongue going as far as it can reach, a hum leaving his throat once you feverishly grip at his shirt.

His free hand slips past your slick folds, adjusting the small vibrator before filling you up with his digits.

Fuck...You're too beautiful to be left living...it's a thought that often plays in his mind, but he's selfish, wants you to himself for as long as he's alive.

His fingers expertly find your G-spot, his lips leaving yours as he takes his time looking at you, praising you and waiting for you to finally fall apart after undoubtedly agonizing hours of waiting.

"Lose yourself for me, doll."

And you do. Your orgasm is ripping through your body, your chin being held up only by a shaking gun against skin.

You manage to look at him through your almost closed eyes, his jaw tightened and his chest heaving, his whole arm trembling as you ride out your high.

He places the gun on the floor carefully before pouncing on you, trapping you beneath his arms and the floor, rubbing his clothed length against your damp hole, groaning at the way it seeps through the layers.

"I'm gonna make you wish I pulled that trigger" You smile up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, your mouth ghosting over his ear.

"Please."

pic credit:kawaiitentacles on twitter!

You're shivering under the heat, droplets of hot wax slowly cooling off on your skin, his wings spread open and waiting as the last droplets of melted wax fall over your chest.

Your body convulses at the new wave of pleasurable pain, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

He chose red...he always does, there's something that makes the setting ever so intimate, like you're slowly becoming his with every pearly stain on your chest.

Your pussy is smeared with drying wax, his fingers made sure your clit was completely covered in it, smearing the now barely warm liquid from your chest down to you puffy nub.

Your tits were a piece of artwork that he was sickeningly proud of, trails of red running down between them and to your belly button, some patterns obviously made by his fingers guiding the wax.

He settles the candle on the bedside table carefully, placing it back on the ceramic plate.

His cock is straining against his boxers, the perfect petal looking trail leading to your hole looks sinfully erotic, red beads all centering to your tortured clit.

You whine under his gaze, bending your legs to your knee, inviting him to slip inbetween. He does, his boxers now long gone as his cock head ghosts between your folds.

He watches the wax crack apart almost unnoticeably, each time he spreads the lips apart with his length.

He finally prods inside your heat, groaning when your legs hook behind his back.

Sometimes you wonder why he refuses to tie you down during these, but if you were to know that it's because he loves to see you jolt and shake, you would clearly tease him for being so sadistic.

Instead his arms pin yours on both sides of your head, plowing deeper in you when his chest presses against yours. It's almost too deep, fitting snuggly against your cervix and still pushing the tight walls wider.

His hips begin to move, his lips latching on your neck as he rocks his body into yours. It's passionate somehow... he can feel the wax brushing against his chest, each roll of his hips sending him even deeper in the crook of your neck.

His low rumbles and moans are so close to your ear, sending your mind into a frenzy. You're so close, so so close, yet you need just a bit more, wriggling your hips you try to find the perfect angle, getting frustrated when it takes you so long with no success.

You fight his hands while he's lost in chasing his own high, your arm freed from his grip with little struggle, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him to look at you.

The angry look on your face made him smirk, his next thrust perfectly hitting that soft patch inside.

"There you go my greedy little bird..." he whispers, moving the hairs away from your cheeks as he cups it into his palm before digging the pads of his fingers into your jaw.

His thrusts sped up, abusing the spot inside you, the clacking sound of your wet pussy filling the room. He was so close, the veins of his cock throbbing and pulsating, the fingers on your jaw tightening.

The build up became too much, headboard banging into the wall, the knot in your belly threatening to snap loose any second. Finally you felt your ears buzzing, hot waves crashing under the surface of your skin, your muscles giving out as you rode the high.

In a blink you were suddenly empty, hot ropes of cum splashing on your chest in continuous spurts, your boyfriend's groans and ruffling of feathers filling your ears.

There's a strained growl that leaves his throat when he lays next to you, his wings falling onto your chest, helping your body to stay warm as you begin to cool down.

He loves you. He can't stop saying it while he holds you to his chest, delaying the clean up just so he can say it as many times as possible.

You'll murder him if he makes you fall asleep like this, so he wills himself into getting up, not exactly agreeing to move away from you. He is picking you up and leading you to the bathroom, sending his feathers to prepare everything so he doesn't have to let go. He won't mind that you're practically asleep in his embrace...leave everything to him, he's got you.

You should've known really....

The famous wanted villain doesn't just ”feel like cinema date”.

You had your hopes up, imaginably high...Dressing up all cute and pretty. Spending hours to get ready and be perfect for your first public date.

You knew the risks, but the thought of enjoying a normal afternoon like a normal couple blinded your eyes.

None of that stopped you from spreading your legs even further apart in your seat, the lace of your panties tugged to the side as long slender fingers rubbed between your fold, smearing your arousal over your pulsing clit.

You were holding your skirt up to your tummy, one of your fists securely gripping your panties as you pushed your hips against his hand.

His intention was to get you worked up, pull you to the bathroom and have his way with you, yet he found himself lost in you muffled moans, your plump lips turning red and bruised as you dug your teeth in them.

It shouldn't matter, you were at the far end of the movie room, a few empty rows separating you and the group of guys that also came to see the film.

His other hand pulled at your chin, separating your lips and sending you a glare.

He didn't want you quiet. He wanted those bastards to turn around, be angered by the fact that a freak like him is having such a messy little slut on his sleeve.

Wetness seeped into the material of the red chairs, making the cloth a few shades darker. Your arms were now wrapped around one of his, hugging it to your chest as low whimpers left your throat.

You were squirming in your seat, making the screws screech with every movement of your hips. The sounds of your slick pussy seemingly at least 10 times louder in your ears.

His digits were now steadily pumping in and out of your warm cavern, never faltering when one of the men fake coughed, adjusting in his seat.

The movie wasn't even halfway through when you felt your high approaching.

The palm of his hand bumped into your clit with each thrust, your concerns pushed to the back of your mind the more his pace picked up.

You were now more than sure that the whole room knew, your slick cunt producing sinful sounds that were impossible to match anything else.

Tomura could feel your nails digging into the muscles of his arm, the wrinkled material of his shirt almost giving out and ripping under your clawing.

He's grinning from ear to ear, yet you can't seem to know why, his efforts doubling as he stares to the side.

You don't have the strength to move or to question his motives when you feel the electric pleasure in your stomach, the muscles there convulsing and flexing as you reach your high.

It comes not as pleasurable as it's embarrassing, the guilt eating at you as soon as you've reached your peak. Coming down from it proved even harder, Tomura’s long still fingers waiting for you to calm yourself before slipping out, cleaning them up on your skirt.

He's pulling you from your seat seconds later, rushing you out the room and out to the hallways.

”What the hell Tomura?” You try to question as you run behind him.

There's that grin again, his eyes squinting and his teeth showing only a bit.

”Cameras, they had cameras” you weren't supposed to be shocked, it's normal and pretty common, you were supposed to be aware of that.

What pisses you off is that grin that still hasn't left his face, making your brows furrow and cheeks puff up.

The nerve.

------------------------------------------------------------

Leave feedback, I’m an attention whore. Please and Thank you🥺

commisions:open( 1 slot)

requests:closed

[ymiwritesstuff]

A Helping Wing

Quick Revali scenario, I have had this idea for some time now and I’m finally posting it lol. Anyway enjoy soft, worried Revali!

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild

Revali x Reader

Summary: A trip to Goron City gets an unexpected turn with an even more unexpected reaction from the Rito Champion.

Notes: Injury

The scorching heat that dominated the air on the way to Death Mountain would have been unbearable if it weren’t for the fireproof elixirs you had made well in advance. Still, the hot air had its effect on you as you found yourself wiping tiny beads of sweat from your forehead every now and then as you walked along the rocky path. You could only imagine how the thickly feathered Rito behind you was most likely suffering from the heat much more than you were.

“Remind me again why are we on this absolutely horrendous trip to Goron City in the first place,” Revali complained behind you, eyebrows frowned in annoyance. A part of you knew that this would happen. Knowing him, just about any small nuisance in his way made his beak spill out words of irritation. All you could do was sigh.

“Daruk got seriously injured and Mipha requested us to bring her some supplies so she could heal him faster,” you explained, though had already done so when you initially started your trip to the city. You threw him a quick glance. “Without these, the process could take days.” You lifted the bag on your shoulder that held the herbs and potions the young Zora had asked for. Revali merely scoffed.

“Well, if this is such an important mission, why are we wasting our time on foot when we have two perfectly operational wings right here?” He motioned to his wings with his eyes. “Surely we would get there faster and be done with this cumbersome task.” You let out a laugh, keeping your eyes forward.

“As if you would let me climb on your precious little back,” you mocked. If there was something you knew about Revali is that he had too much pride in, well, everything, so you knew that what he was implying was practically impossible. Even if he was willing to let go of his ego in this rare, inconvenient situation, there was a problem with his idea. “Besides, the herbs would just fly out and burn if we’re that high up.” You turned around to look at him.

“We’re almost there. Just hang in there a little longer."

Revali clicked his tongue but eventually sighed, accepting your words. Despite his exasperation, you were right. Even with the effects of the elixir, flying high surrounded by the hot air would do damage to the precious contents of your bag, but also to him and you. His feathers would probably catch fire and that was the last thing he wanted. So, he continued to walk behind you, muttering miffed words under his breath.

As you pressed on under the extreme temperature, something quickly caught your eye. You stopped and Revali looked at you, raising his brow in confusion before your voice came through.

“Bokoblins.” You nodded towards the creatures. “Four of them.” They danced around as they usually did without a care in the world. The Rito crossed his wings.

“Nothing you can’t handle,” he stated, his words making you look at him in bewilderment.

“Me? Are you not going to help?” You purposely kept your voice down, as the Bokoblins hadn’t yet detected either of you. Your question was met with a smug smirk that stretched the edges of his beak.

“I am rather exhausted from this awful heat, and I’d rather let you do the honors, seeing as you seem to be quite determined in getting to the city in the first place.” You couldn’t believe his words. Revali was many things, but lazy was something you could have never expected. There was the possibility that he was telling the truth, but the pompous grin on his face made you doubt this. However, he was right in saying that defeating a few Bokoblins was no difficult task.

“Fine,” You spat and tossed the bag of supplies at him before grabbing your bow, a part of you regretting the decision to ask him to come with you in the first place. “I really hate you, you know?” Revali held the bag and took a few steps back, the smirk never fading from his face.

“The feeling is mutual.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned away from him, your eyes gluing themselves on your target. The Bokoblins were in a nice little pile, so taking them out would be easy. However, you could feel Revali’s judging eyes boring into your back, watching your every move. At this point, you thought that he may have abstained from helping you just to see how you would do with the bow and then possibly mock you for an incorrect technique only he could see.  

You shook the thought away. Now was not the time to worry about Revali’s judgment. Your only task was to bring the supplies to Mipha and not pay attention to his foolishness. Still, in the back of your mind, some part of you wanted to impress him for whatever reason, so you attempted to take all of the Bokoblins out at once.

Revali watched as you prepared for your attack, that arrogant smirk still apparent. His eyes watched as you gripped the bow, how you tested the string and how you finally grabbed an arrow from your quiver and-

Suddenly, his expression changed to a panicked one as his widened eyes noticed the grave mistake you had made that took the form of the arrow you had chosen: A bright red, sizzling bomb arrow.

Revali quickly jumped into the air and grabbed the back of your shirt with his talons, pulling you away from the massive explosion caused by the arrow and the surrounding air. Your eyes widened at the blast, and you instinctively shielded yourself with your arms as you were pulled back before feeling your back slam against an armored chest.

The Rito stumbled back and fell to the rocky ground, softening your fall by having you land on his chest. The sound rang in your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut and only opened them once you couldn’t feel the heat of the flames any longer. You blinked and looked at your burned bow that laid on the ground, the Bokoblins fleeing the sight, frightened by the loud noise. It had all happened so fast, you only realized your mistake when Revali opened his beak:

“Are you out of your mind?!” He yelled behind you, voice filled with anger and concern. “You could have gotten both of us killed! How could you possibly think using a bomb arrow at a place like this was a good idea?!” You slowly stood up, still shaken by the accident.

“Are you truly that foolish? That you don’t know that a bomb arrow will explode as soon as it makes contact with the hot air?”

Of course you knew. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t even realized that you had grabbed a bomb arrow and now you were scolded by your stupid mistake. Your eyes found the ground below you, embarrassment settling in your stomach. “I’m sorry... I just... I didn’t even realize,” You said, trying to somehow explain your actions, though you were more taken aback by his reaction. You had never heard him use his voice in such a manner.

A sigh left Revali’s beak as he tried to calm himself down. Truthfully, he didn’t fully know why he reacted in such a fiery manner.

“You’re hurt,” he finally said. You looked up at him and saw his eyes glued to your arm. Then you felt the burning pain on it. A significant piece of fabric from your sleeve was burned, the jagged hole revealing your reddened skin that sent waves of pain and discomfort throughout the rest of your arm. You hissed in pain and grabbed the abused area with your other hand.

You noticed Revali grabbing something from a bag of his own and motioning you to sit on a rock conveniently placed on the side of the road. You took his offer and sat down, fighting back tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. You glanced at Revali, who carried a white, jiggly blob of... something in his wing while walking towards you.

“What is that?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the unknown substance.

“White Chuchu jelly.” Revali kneeled beside you, expression neutral, rid of any signs of arrogance or judgment. “It should help with the burn,” he stated, pressing the jelly on the surface of your arm, the cool temperature of it immediately easing your pain. You let out a shaky breath.

“Why do you even have that?” You were unable to look at him, something inside you making your stomach churn. You felt his wings wrapping a bandage around your arm, the jelly staying on your skin.

“Well, I would have used it to cool myself off, but it appears that you need it more than I do after that ridiculous stunt you pulled.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance.

“I said I didn’t realize what I was doing I just-”

“Didn’t pay attention,” he interrupted. You were about to argue but after realizing that he was correct, you let out a heavy sigh instead. Revali finished wrapping your wound and stood up, briefly glancing at your destroyed bow.

“What a waste,” he sighed, walking back to the bags, relieved to see the supplies still intact. You stood up, looking at your bandaged arm and then at him. Despite his somewhat rude and cocky exterior, he apparently cared about you enough to at least tend to your wound when he technically didn’t need to. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, Revali.”

The Rito briefly stopped what he was doing, likely processing your words. You couldn’t see his face, so his expression was left a mystery. He on the other hand was grateful you didn’t witness the feathers on his face puff up ever so slightly. The accident startled him more than he would have liked to admit and was grateful that he was able to pull you out in time.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he finally said, regaining his usual attitude. He stood up and picked both bags up from the ground.

“We haven’t reached our destination yet and I clearly misjudged your abilities, who knows what ridiculous mistake you might make next.” For the first time, you let out a tiny laugh at his words, following him as he began walking.

“Well, I guess asking for your assistance in this little task of mine wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.”

Revali chuckled and shook his head at your words, his usual arrogance embedded in his response:

“Oh, (Name).” His glimmering eyes glanced at you, smirk once again decorating his features.  

“What would you do without me?”

[lady-ragnvindr]

So, I wanted to try writing smut for the first time, and I wanted to post it on my account, but I'm not really sure if I liked it, so I wanted to ask for an opinion. Like, is it actually good enough to post? So um here you go! ^^

(By the way, my first language isn't English, So I'm sorry about any grammar mistakes.)

-

Character: Aether

Warnings: Omegaverse, breeding, Reader is gender neutral, but they have a Dick. The Reader is spiderlike, but they're still humanoid, They're an Alpha, Aether is an omega, Begging

-

Aether was traveling in Liyue, his Companion Paimon by his side.

He recently got a request that he should kill a new monster, which somehow appeared out of nowhere.

Tho he was warned that the Monster would be too strong for him, he didn't listen.

He heard from a few people that the Monster didn't attack anything at all, but it could be a danger to everyone.

So, Aether accepted the request of eliminating the Creature, and made himself on his way.

While Aether was making his way towards the Home of the Monster, he didn't listen to the Protests of Paimon.

She told him that the Monster would be too strong, but Aether was too determined to listen.

He wanted to kill it.

-

Aether arrived at the Cave, Paimon shaking in fear.

Aether looked at the Cave once more, before entering.

But then he noticed that Paimon wasn't next to him anymore.

He turned around, looking at his flying companion.

"Paimon?" He called out to her.

"Paimon refuses to go in there!" She told him.

Even tho he tried to convince her to go in with him, she refused.

So they made a deal that they would meet each other in Liyue again.

Aether sighed at the sight of Paimon flying away towards Liyue, and turned around, finally walking into the Cave.

-

Even tho only a few minutes passed, Aether was growing anxious.

"Where is the Creature hiding?" He asked himself, looking around.

Suddenly, he heard Footsteps, which sounded very heavy.

He quickly turned around, making eye contact with a Creature that was around 9 feet tall.

It almost looked like a human...but it had Spider like features when it came towards the lower half of it's body.

Aether's eyes grew wide.

No way he could take down that thing!

He looked down at the lower half of the Creature's body.

It had spider like legs, which were huge.

It also had a piece of fabric around it's waist, hiding it's intimate Area.

Suddenly, his Omega called out to him: "It's an Alpha!"

Aether then noticed the scent of the Creature, which made him weak to his knees.

The Creature still looked down at him, tilting it's head.

It then lowered itself to sniff at Aether's neck, making the Boy shiver.

After it took a long sniff of his scent, it muttered a low "Omega..."

Aether couldn't realize anything because it happened so fast, but he got picked up by the creature with it's spider legs.

The creature stared into his eyes, which made Aether blush.

The creature then looked away, walking towards a wall, still holding Aether in it's hold.

On the walls were Chains, which were definitely strong enough to hold his Body.

He widened his eyes and begged for Mercy, but his Omega inside was shivering in arousal.

The creature held Aether against the wall, pinning him onto it with the chains.

It then let go, enjoying how Aether tried to get away.

A spider leg went towards his body, which made Aether close his eyes in fear.

Suddenly, his clothes got ripped off, which made him open his eyes again.

He looked at the lower half of the Creature, which now revealed a huge Dick.

Aether gulped in fear, but couldn't help but feel a little excited of how the huge thing would feel inside him.

The creature went near him, still staring into Aether's eyes, wanting to know how he felt.

Aether didn't say anything, which made the Creature angry and shoved it's Dick inside, making the Boy scream.

Happy at getting a reaction of the Boy, the Creature started off with a slow pace.

Aether's toes curled and his hands gripped the Chains.

He couldn't believe it. A creature that he was supposed to kill was actually fucking him!

After a few minutes, the Creature grew annoyed again at the lack of Aether's moans.

It started thrusting faster, rubbing it's Dick more against Aether's walls.

His moans started to get louder, which the Creature greatly enjoyed.

"N-No wait! I don't w-want this!" He screamed, but the Creature knew that was a lie.

How his walls tightened around it's Dick, the pleasurable moans, and how his Dick let out some precum, told it that Aether was enjoying this.

Aether actually knew it himself that he wanted the Creature's dick, but he didn't want to accept it.

The creature went towards Aether's neck, biding down harshly on it.

Aether moaned even louder at this, his Omega begging that the Creature would mark him.

The Creature took notice of how Aether's scent changed, but decided to tease him.

It went away from Aether's neck, slowing down its thrusts.

Aether whined, making puppy dog eyes at the Giant creature before him.

"Please! Don't stop! Breed me! Make me your omega!"

Aether couldn't believe his own ears.

Did he really just say that?

The Creature's pupils grew wider, and started thrusting again.

Aether banged his head against the wall at the harsh thrusts.

His moans were growing louder, almost becoming screams.

He looked down at his lower half, enjoying the sight of the Creature's Dick destroying his Man-pussy.

He also took notice on how his belly was building because of the huge Dick destroying his organs.

He loved seeing the buldge appear and disappear.

"Is this a dream?" Aether thought. "If it is, don't make it stop!"

Aether's tongue lapped out of his mouth, his eyes crossing.

He could feel his orgasm approaching, which was shown of how much precum was slipping out of his Dick.

It was slapping against his own stomach, but it seemed pathetic now that he saw the Creature's huge one.

The creature growled, feelings it's own orgasm approach.

Aether noticed this, which made him continue to beg.

"C-Cum inside me! Breed me! Fill me up! Let me be your Cum-dumpster!" He screamed, trying to reach out to the Creatures neck.

But then, the Creature stopped.

Aether's tongue went back into his mouth, his eyes rolling back into their original position

He started whining, begging for the Creature to start moving again.

But the Creature just took it's Dick out of his hole.

Aether shivered at the loss of heat from the Dick.

The creature then took the chains of his body, and grabbed him with it's spider legs.

Aether struggled in it's arms, trying to get the Dick back inside his warm hole.

Suddenly, the Creature kissed Aether, which made his face explode in Red.

He felt how the Creature's tongue was asking for entrance, it licking his lower lip up and down.

Aether opened his mouth, giving the Creature permission on French kissing him.

While Aether was too busy with concentrating on playing with the Creature's tongue, the Creature slammed back into Aether, making him scream into the kiss.

It started thrusting at a rough pace, which made Aether's eyes roll into the back of his head.

His long awaited orgasm came back, again waiting for release.

The Creature stared into the Boy's eyes, enjoying how he looked.

Aether was sweating non-stop, which looked adorable with the Precum on his tummy.

Aether gripped onto the Creature's neck, closing his eyes

He then felt his long awaited orgasm finally come.

He shot a huge load out. It felt like the best and most intense orgasm he ever had before.

Then, it was the Creature's turn to finally release.

It broke the kiss, making Aether whine, and the Creature growled.

It bit into Aether's Neck, marking him as their Omega.

The Creature then released it's even more huge load into Aether, making his belly buldge even more.

Aether screamed once again, enjoying the feeling of how the Cum of the Monster coated his walls.

His screaming then took an end, and he closed his eyes, tired.

The creature let go of Aether's neck, and slipped out of Aether, making the Boy let out a whine once again.

The cum started dripping out of him, which made him even more sensitive.

The Creature just chuckled at this, and layed Aether onto the floor, putting the piece of fabric, which once covered it's crotch, onto him.

The small boy didn't even take notice of this, and fell asleep, smiling.

The creature layed itself next to Aether, laying his head against it's chest, falling asleep too.

-

The next day.

Paimon was still waiting in Liyue.

She was growing anxious.

Aether still wasn't back, and it has been a whole day!

"Where is he...? Did he get killed?" She asked herself.

But then, she noticed an approaching figure.

"Aether!" She screamed, flying towards him.

But then, she immediately stopped once she looked closer at him.

He was sweating, had many love marks around his neck, he smelled like Sex, and he was limping.

He had a love-struck look on his face and said to Paimon:

"Y/N...their Name is Y/N...Oh that was the best night of my life."

-

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything like that. You can tell me that if I did.

This was good!!! Oh gawd i can just imagine jim being so full of cum and limping while having a hand on his belly, with hearts in his eyes 😩😩😩😌😌😌😌

Just magnificent love!

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

Always kiss me goodnight

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Content:  Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed,   helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror

Word count: ~2200

Note:  I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this   kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more?   Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I  first watched the show.

Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems  I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying

———————————————

Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly  call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.

This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next  day’s work.

As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the   water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.

In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some  blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.

Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”

He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.

“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”

You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as   he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.

“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”

Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.

His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.

“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”

You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.

Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.

Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.

You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed  into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.

It’s a fool’s errand.

For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in  his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed.  Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.

And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.

You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.

The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around   him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.

The gesture warms your weary heart.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.

“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.

***

You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.

At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.

The inn, you remember in a flash.

At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it  in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.

Oh, Maker.

You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.

Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you  can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the  morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.

Slowly, so slowly, you  release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...

In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.

Oh, Maker.

You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite   chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.

“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s all right.”

His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.

Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”

Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”

You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame,  and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.

Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.

The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.

“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“I know.”

His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.

He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”

You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”

His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.

You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.

Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.

“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.

“Brown.”

Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the   things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”

Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”

He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice   calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his  face.

You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”

“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice   rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”

“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.

He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”

Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”

His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.

You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.

It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of  his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.

...Apparently not quietly enough.

A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.

Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”

You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.

Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with  the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”

Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”

You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”