#i will post a picture when my tattoo artist sends me the picture she took!! rn its all goopy and bloody and bandaged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

things-we-cant-say · 4 years ago

Text

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

#wayv ten #ten imagines #wayv smut #ten scenarios #ten x reader #ten smut #nct scenarios #ten oneshot #wayv imagines #woc reader #wayv ten imagines #ten lee #wayv au #nct au

224 notes · View notes

moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

no tattoos

wordcount: 1.7k

warnings: drunk sophie, hints of nsfw talk, etc

______

Rafe picked up Sophie’s facetime call to be greeted by his excited girlfriend and her talking conversationally in Spanish, albeit a little stilted as her drunk brain tried translating back and forth.

“Sophie -”

“Estoy bebiendo, hemos encontrado este vino por la sangria -”

He laughed, shaking his head. “English, baby, please. Por favor.”

“Oh! Fuck, sorry. I’m not sober.” She immediately switched back, bringing a nearly empty cup to her lips as she took him back into her room to momentarily escape the loud party.

“I can tell. What’s up, just saying hi?”

“Yeah!” She shut the door behind her and lifted up her shirt a little. ”Baby! Baby, look.” She angled the camera toward her leg, keeping it on selfie mode and hopped on one foot trying to show it correctly.

Rafe held back a smile. “Flip the camera, Soph.”

“No, no, I got it, look.” The camera finally focused in on the purple pen outlining the eventual tattoo, the initials R.C. done in her terrible drunken scrawl. (Her handwriting was pretty poor normally, but her drunk handwriting was much worse.) It was right above her hipbone and at least five inches tall, not at all what she would typically go for with a first tattoo.

He choked back a laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh my fucking god.”

She grinned and turned the camera back to her face. “What do you think?”

“That’s not - Sophie, you didn’t -” he fumbled with his words, feeling a weird mix of horror and also being turned on that she’d even consider tattooing his initials onto her forever, even if she was drunk.

“No, no, I’m next.” She nearly tripped as she walked back into the kitchen, showing a group of her friends crowded around a table, one of them giving stick and poke tattoos with a practiced ease. The phone was set down and abandoned for a few minutes, but he could hear Sophie accepting another shot with a giggle, her words taking on a pronounced slur.

Rafe waited patiently, straining a little to listen to the conversation.

“Were you talking to your boyfriend?”

“Wait, the one that gave you the ring?”

Sophie laughed and he could picture her grin. “Yeah, I was talking to Rafe. I’m gonna get his initials.” She pulled up her shirt a little to show off the sloppy outline and the girls squealed, both equally as drunk as her. “Oh my god, you can’t.”

“Why not!” Sophie exclaimed.

“What if you break up?”

“Oh, we won’t.” She replied, self-assured. He grinned at that.

“So do you think you’ll marry him?”

There was a brief silence and more giggles and Rafe desperately wished he could see her face. Unbeknownst to him, she nodded with a grin then picked the phone back up, her face tinged pink.

“Hi! I forgot we were talking!” She took the phone back to her room to talk to him again. Sophie had a tendency of being spacey when she was drunk, often wandering off or just ending a conversation mid-sentence when she couldn’t remember the rest.

Rafe shook his head, trying his best not to laugh. “Sophie. Angel. Listen to me, very carefully, okay?”

She furrowed her brow. “Yes?”

“You cannot get that tattoo.”

She pouted, running her thumb over the ink and smearing it a little. “Why not?”

“Because, Soph. You’re hammered -”

“Am not! I can do a handstand, look, watch -”

“No no no, Soph, just listen to me, please -” he laughed, snapping to try and get her focus as she went to set the phone down and show off (he was a little concerned, especially because he wasn’t sure she could do a handstand sober). “Sophie Flint! Hey. Hey. Pay attention and listen. No tattoos.”

“You don’t like it.” She frowned, lip wobbling, and Rafe could feel the tears coming on. He paused, part endeared and part exasperated. “It’s - it’s not that, I just -”

“No, you hate it and you’re going to break up with me because you think I’m a bad artist and I could never open my own tattoo shop.” She sighed dramatically, a few stray tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Jesus, what did you drink?” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not breaking up with you, baby.” He couldn’t help but laugh, utterly confused. “Has this been some long standing dream I’ve never heard of?”

“You’re laughing at me!” She cried out, rubbing the heels of her hands hard against her eyes. “I’m a great artist.”

“Oh my god.” Rafe muttered, grinning. “Yes, you are. Hey, how about you wait, and - um -”

He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and held it up. “Look, I’ll draw you the tattoo, but you have to wait until you get it in the mail. So you can copy it right.” He pretended to write his initials onto the paper, knowing he had zero intention of sending it to her.

“Oh. You mean it?” She sniffled, her tears long forgotten.

“I mean it. Nothing to cry over, baby.”

She nodded, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes to get rid of her tears. “You promise to send it? So I can have you with me forever?”

He swore he melted at that statement alone. “That’s why you wanted it?”

“Yeah. And ‘cause I miss you.” She paused. “I miss your dick too, but I’m not gonna get that tattooed on me.”

He laughed loudly at that, shaking his head. “I think that’s a solid plan. No tattoos tonight, okay?”

“I’ll wait until you come out and we can both get each other’s. Oh!” Her face lit up and it was almost painful for him that she was so far away when she was in one of his favorite moods. “Yeah, Soph?”

“You could get my signature, on your letters! The S and the halo!”

He paused, thinking. “That’s not too bad.”

“No, it’d be perfect. I want it over your heart. So everyone knows you’re mine.” She declared, tracing her idea over her own heart to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’ll think about it. Go back to your party, angel, go have fun.” He urged, feeling better now that he’d talked her down from the tattoo ledge.

“No, I miss you, I wanna talk.” She flopped down onto her bed and propped her phone up, then wrapped her arms around her pillow. “Last night one of my roommates brought some guy home from the bar and it’s not fair. You should be here so I don’t have to get off on my own.”

Rafe grinned, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

“Am not.” She protested, then grinned. “Unless you want me to be. Then I can be trouble.”

“Keep your voice down, Soph.” He admonished, knowing she had a tendency of being loud when she was drunk. “Go drink some water for me.”

“No. You know what’s bullshit?” She fished around in her nightstand drawer, looking for something.

“What?”

“Ah!” She held up a small drawstring bag. “My vibrator died last week -”

“Jesus Christ, woman -”

“- and I can’t find a replacement anywhere online. The thing won’t charge here, I think I electrocuted it. Useless.” She tossed the bag across the bed, scowling.

He was clearly strained, rubbing his temples. “Can we go back? Since when have you had a vibrator?”

“Since, like, sophomore year.”

“And I didn’t know about this, why?”

She shrugged. “You never asked and I think I can probably count on my fingers how many times we had sex in my room last semester. What was I supposed to do, reach over and whip it out when we were fucking?”

He laughed at her brash words and dropped his head in his hands, shifting in his seat. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

Sophie waved her hand, ignoring his struggle. “Rafe, listen to me. That picture you posted with Colin, in the swim shorts, you’re holding the beer?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve literally never wanted to get down on my knees more.”

He about choked, eyes going wide. “You can’t just say things like that without a warning, angel.”

“I’m serious -”

“I’m sure you are.” He laughed, trying his best to ignore her tank top slipping off her shoulder and the way she licked her lips.

“And when you come visit and we travel, I want to have sex in every country. Just so we can say we did.” She declared.

“We’re only going to be in three, Soph. Including Spain.” He countered, attempting to switch the conversation for his own sake.

She yawned, stretching, and her shirt slipped a little lower. “Okay, so we’ll just have to travel more together later. Fuck, I miss you.”

“You too, baby.” He heard her name being yelled out in the background and laughed, raising his eyebrows. “Do you need to go?”

“Prob’ly. More shots, you know how it goes.” She dragged herself up out of bed and glanced down at her shirt, sighing dramatically. “I gotta change, don’t I?”

“No, you look great. Go have fun, I love you.”

“No, no, I gotta change.” She insisted, pulling off her shirt with no hesitation and Rafe sucked in a breath, watching her hunt around through her laundry basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. “You’re teasing.”

“I’m not teasing, I have a bra.” She snapped the strap for emphasis.

“You are teasing. I can see your underwear when you bend over, your skirt is short.” He laughed when she turned a little red and tugged it down. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. They’re pink with little red hearts on them.” He grinned. “Adorable.”

“I’m not going to waste my good underwear when you’re not here.” She defended, then found the shirt she wanted. It was one of his from intramurals, with Cameron written out on the back. He held back a smirk when she tugged it on and it went to her thighs, her skirt barely peeking out under the hem. “Is this better?”

“Yeah, you look beautiful.” He smiled. “Go back to your party.” Rafe paused, adding, “Tell Mateo I said hi.”

“That’s weird, but alright.” She shrugged. “You be good, okay?”

“I don’t think you’re the one that should be telling me that.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Have fun. If you go out, text me when you’re home again.”

“Deal.” She blew him a kiss before waving and hanging up.

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx #obx fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #college rafe #frat rafe

110 notes · View notes

imhereformr · 3 years ago

Note

Oh I just didn't want to confuse you by sending asks from my main blog ^^

I would love to know about your tattoo plans and current tattoos

Oh honey, I figured out this and your Winx blog were the same person a while ago 😂

Start with current tattoos I guess?

Current tattoos

This was my 1st. I got it when I was 18. I've always loved Beauty and the Beast, and spent my entire life being compared to Belle (apparently liking books and being a brunette is all it takes).

This was #2. It came 2 months after the 1st. It says burdens are for shoulders strong enough to bear them. At the time I was fighting a long, hard depression and I read this in a book. It resonates even more with me now that I've dealt with having my body quite literally fail me.

Of course I got it my shoulder.

#3 came a whopping 8 years later (after 8 years of me saying I needed more tattoos). It spawned from a Facebook thing of getting a matching tattoo with your 3rd @ or something. It was my best friend and we decided to get monopoly houses because our friendship started over a mutual love of the game.

#4 was done in January. It's a witches hand. I came across the artist on tiktok and followed her on Instagram. She posted this to her flashes and I went I WANT IT.

At this point, I've given up this idea that tattoos have to be meaningful. Why shouldnt I decorate my body with meaningless things if I find them pretty and they make me happy?

#5 is the butterfly, done last Wednesday. Again, I came across the artist on Instagram (he was a funny French man with a twisty mustache), went this is prettyyyyyy 😍😍😍 and decided to waste $400 on it.

Futur tattoos

#6 is this little fox. He's booked for early July. I've always loved foxes (you know how you hyper fixate on an animal as a kid? Mine was foxes) so when another artist I follow on Instagram posted him, I decided I needed him.

This lantern is one my boyfriend took a picture of while we were in Ecuador back in 2019. I absolutely love it and know I want it as a tattoo. I just don't know if I want a more fine line/minimal version of it or to go full on glowing/witchy with it.

I want to get small flowers (I love florals) on a vine under my breasts. I know which artist (this one) and have a decent idea of what I want it to look like. I just have to actually get to contacting him (and maybe saving money cause I expect it to be a bit more expensive).

I almost got this done my a Korean artist that was guesting in Montreal back in April but she wanted fucking $200 an hour. Shame cause she has really beautiful work.

#not winx #personal #tattoos #long post

4 notes · View notes

dw-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get a request for a John Kennex x Reader? Soulmate Au or maybe even that fate keeps throwing them together? You're freaking amazing BTW *Hugs*

SCREAMS YES??? I LOVE SOULMATE AUS SO MUCH!!!!!! And, I mean, look at him!! What a cutie. What a fucking smartass. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!!!! Also @writerdee1701 here is some John Kennex!! ( @outside-the-government i think ive seen you reblog Kennex stuff but if not!! i’m sorry!)

A soulmate wasn’t something you wanted. You had sat and suffered and cried over thinking that you had one only to lose it because it wasn’t real and for what? Because the world – the universe? – told you that you were supposed to have a soulmate? Because the moment you turned eighteen the first words your soulmate was meant to say to you appeared on your arm?

No way.

So, after months of intensive therapy and accepting a new job in a city on the opposite side of the country, you did what any sane-but-majorly-depressed person would do: you got the tattoo covered.

You brushed your thumb over the healed black band that encircled your left arm, smiling to yourself – your sister, bless her, had suggested adding flowers, and your tattoo artist had been more than happy to include blooming flowers all around the band, even going so far as to outline them in UV ink, so that you could see the pieces that would be covered by the band itself. You tugged the sleeve of your shirt down to your wrist as you walked into the building, ready for another day at work – another case, another job well done.

You sighed and nodded at your MX-43 as you sat at your desk.

“Don’t look so excited to be here.” You looked up at the voice and felt your lips curl in a smile. John Kennex returned it and held out a second cup of coffee. You took with a grateful grin. “Dunno if you heard, but we’re workin’ a case together today,” he said, leaning on your desk.

You arched an eyebrow as you took a slow sip from your cup. It was just how you liked it, and it warmed you from the inside out. “Again?” you finally asked after another deep drink. He nodded. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost say we were partners,” you teased.

“I think the captain likes our closure rate,” he pointed out.

“Uh, you mean my closure rate,” you said as you drained your cup and stood, “You just happen to be along for the ride.”

“Oh?” he challenged.

You nodded and grabbed your things from your desk. “Yeah.”

“Those sound like fighting words,” he remarked.

You hummed. “If they were fighting words, I’d say you were there to look pretty, but that’s Dorian’s job!” you chirped. You wrinkled your nose. “You do give good hugs though, so, there’s that.” You patted his chest as you walked past him. “Let’s go!”

Captain Maldonado leaned out of her office as you and John walked past her with a shout of, “Masks!” Both of you lifted your hands and waved over your shoulders.

You didn’t mind sitting in the back of John’s cruiser with your MX, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo as Dorian and your MX rattled off the particulars of the case. You felt eyes on your face throughout the ride but didn’t look up to meet them. When John pulled up to the crime scene, he waved Dorian ahead with your MX and grabbed your arm before you walked past. It took you a moment to look up and, when you did, he was frowning.

“Where are you?” he whispered. You opened your mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t say here, or thinking about the case,” he murmured, “You didn’t hear a word Dorian said on the way here.”

You sighed. “My sister found her soulmate,” you said as you waved towards the bright light line of the ticker tape. John shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked with you. “It’s funny, she’s been living next door to him for a year while teaching in Scotland, and she didn’t know it was him until she ran into him in the hall during laundry day. He had a bird on his shoulder, this big thing, she sent me a picture of it, actually.” You adjusted your mask and pulled out your phone, opening the picture. It was side by side with another photo, one of a bird with its wing in a splint.

John nodded at it. “What’s that?” he asked.

You smiled to yourself. “Before she left, we found a bird in our building parking lot. It had a broken wing, and Maria, she’s got this huge soft spot for birds, so we took it to the vet and they walked us through how to take care of it.”

“And it’s the same bird her soulmate has tattooed, right?” he asked.

“How, how, how does it know that?” you asked, stopped short of the crime scene. You scratched at your arm through your sleeve. “She got her mark when she turned eighteen just like everyone else, and it was a, a, a set of card suits to a losing hand of poker, which turned out to be the exact same hand that Richard had when he lost a bet that ended up with him applying to college to be a teacher.” You shook your head. “I don’t—I don’t understand.”

John’s eyebrows were arched high when you finally looked at him. You ran your fingers behind your ears to adjust your mask while he carefully pulled his off and scratched his chin. “If it makes you feel better,” he said with one of those crooked, amused smiles of his, “I don’t understand it either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel better, John, because no one understands it,” you shot back, puffing your cheeks. You turned on your heel and stalked towards the dead body and Dorian and your MX were patiently waiting for you by.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better!” he shouted after your retreating form.

“A for effort!” you shouted back.

The case was a bust in terms of being complicated – the body was a mess, but there was a phone left behind, and a tagged post from the victim with someone else, a boyfriend, who confessed the moment he saw you rolling up to his apartment by shouting out of his window and jumping from it. He wound up with a broken leg and was sitting for sentencing.

John paused at a desk in the bullpen when the two of you returned. You glanced back quickly to find him talking with Valerie, and smiled, pulling off your mask. Dorian followed after you as you wandered back to your desk.

“What’s your mark?” he asked when you sat down.

You glanced up from setting your mask in the UV sanitizer. “That’s…” You leaned back and cleared your throat. “That’s a little out of the blue for you, D.” You shook your head, then picked up your keyboard and started to type out your report. “What, uh, what gives?”

“Saw you and John talking about soulmates earlier,” he said as he pulled up a chair. When you glanced up, he smirked. “I can read lips,” he answered.

You gently tossed your keyboard away from you and sighed. Your eyes drifted across the bullpen. John’s smile still hadn’t faded. “Do you know Chromes don’t have soulmate marks?” you commented.

“No, no, I didn’t know that,” Dorian replied.

You nodded, “Mhmm.” Then, scrubbed your hands over your face, you tilted your head back over the back of your chair. “Something about the way that the changing of genetic make-up eliminates whatever code is programed in us that makes the soulmate tattoos.” You dropped your hands. “He could pick Valerie and no one would argue about it.”

“You’re jealous,” Dorian replied.

“Not jealous,” you shot back.

Dorian adjusted his feet and leaned closer. “So, what’s your mark?” he asked again.

You wrinkled your nose and sat up, pulling your keyboard back to you. Dorian continued to stare. You turned your arm over and yanked up your sleeve. He took your wrist to turn your arm out more. “I got it covered up,” you said, stroking your thumb over a spot in the middle of the black band. “I kinda had a melt down after my mark appeared, and when I finally started to really believe that a soulmate doesn’t make a person, I got it covered.”

“So, what was it?” he asked again. He pushed your thumb aside and brushed his fingers over the band. As he did so, you felt eyes land on you. You set your cheek on your fist. The lights on the side of Dorian’s face lit up. “I see UV ink,” he said as he continued to trace the tattoo, “Flowers?”

“Moonflowers,” you answered with a shrug, “They only bloom once and in very specific conditions.”

“Like a soulmate,” he added with a smile. He looked back down at the band. “Is that a rectangle?”

You pulled your arm back and tugged the sleeve down. “Yeah,” you said. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. “Yeah, just a rectangle.”

“No, there was something else—”

“Everything okay here?” You and Dorian looked up. John stood in front of your desk, glancing between the two of you with a concerned frown. You scratched your neck and nodded, motioning to your screen. Dorian stood and pushed the chair back where it belonged. “You sure?” John asked you.

You nodded again. “Yeah.” You sat back, adjusting the keyboard in front of you. “I’m gonna stay and finish this report. I’ll send it in for the both of us, okay?”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You smiled. “Get outta here.”

He hesitated by your desk, knocking his knuckles against it. “Let me know if you need help, okay?” he murmured.

You stared at him. “John—”

“I’m goin’,” he sighed.

You fished around in your bag and pulled out a set of wireless headphones, then synced it up to your phone, and got to work. Valerie left with a man you didn’t recognize, and Richard walked out after her a few hours later. Captain Maldonado left shortly after them. The lights dimmed and the MX’s headed off to the elevators that took them down to the basement. You stretched your arms above your head and groaned, then tugged the sleeves of your shirt up and twisted around in your seat.

Someone pulled your headphone off. You jumped. John stepped back, holding his hands up. The set dangled from his fingers.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with an amused smile.

“Why are you still here?” you sighed, rubbing your face. You flopped back into your seat and turned to your computer. John pulled up a chair. He set the headphones down after powering them off, then slid a glass over to you. You stared at it.

“It’s bourbon,” he said with a nod to the glass. You turned your chair slowly until you faced him. “Thought you could use it.”

You picked it up. “You thought right,” you slowly said. He held up his glass. You clinked your own against it with a smile.

As John took a slow drink, he pointed at your arm. You turned it out towards him. “Dorian said it was a moonflower?”

You stopped, the glass to your lips. “Why?” you hesitantly asked.

He stared at your tattoo for a long time. Then, he gulped down the rest of his bourbon and pulled up his sleeve. On the outside of his bicep was a simple rectangle. He turned his arm out and showed you the inside of his arm. The outline of a familiar flower stared back at you. You practically threw your glass onto the desk and slid to the edge of your seat. You traced the flower with a faint touch.

“It was on my leg,” he said after a long stretch of silence. You bit your lip. “Nurse in the ICU was nice enough to draw it better for me after about a hundred ugly little sketches.” You gasped out a laugh, dazed at the fact that it was there, right in front of you. “So, what’s in the rectangle?” he asked.

You glanced up, too engrossed in the fact that your flower was tattooed on his skin. The flower you had thought a good representation of a soulmate - something you made, that was unique, that only appeared after certain conditions were met. You shook your head faintly, and whispered, “The name Reginald in your shitty handwriting.”

“You knew?” he asked.

You licked your lips and hesitantly pulled your hands back. “I dunno, I didn’t know for sure, I hadn’t seen the handwriting since I got it covered up, I—”

John cupped your face in his hands, cutting your sentence off. He leaned in, paused, then closed the gap between you both in a surprisingly soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed.

Soulmate or not, you couldn’t believe that he returned your feelings. You gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him back.

#almost human #john kennex #john kennex x reader #john kennex/reader #almost human on fox #almost human requests #almost human asks #hlabounty96

81 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

Motorcycle Fairy - Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3

Planning on a part 2, but seems like we could all use a little pick me up, so here’s the first half today.

Luka had worked a lot of jobs since he was sixteen, but he had to admit working in the motorcycle shop was one of his favorites. He got to see all the merchandise as it came in, he got to see and occasionally touch bikes he would never be able to afford, and the owner was fairer than most of his employers.

Really, there was only one downside, and it was standing at his elbow right now bitching him out. Lula ignored him, continuing his inventory check.

“You’re only here because the old man knows your mom,” sniped Jean.

Luka raised his eyebrows, but didn’t look up from his clipboard. “You’re only here because he’s your dad,” he observed dryly.

“Kiss my ass, Couffaine.”

“Michel doesn’t pay me near enough for that.”

The bell at the door chimed as someone came in.

“I got this one,” Jean said quickly, taking a step towards the door before Luka had even had a chance to turn around. Jean didn’t make it more than that first step before he jerked back from the hold on his collar.

“Oh no you don’t,” growled Michel, the owner, his bushy eyebrows making an angry V over his nose.

Jean scowled. “Aw, come on, Dad, I took the class, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to not turn into a walking sexual harassment complaint every time a woman walks into this store,” Michel grunted. “That’s not even a woman, it’s an underage girl, and I am not going to subject her to you until you can prove to me you took that training seriously. Couffaine, she’s yours. Don’t talk down to her, understand? That’s a potential lifetime customer right there and you better not lose her.”

“Yeah,” Luka said with a half-smile to himself at his boss’s rather practical approach to equality. “Got it.”

“She probably won’t even buy anything,” Jean grumbled. “No way a girl like that knows anything about bikes.”

Luka ignored the lecture he knew Michel was about to deliver on the issue and walked to the front. He had to hunt about a little bit, the girl wasn’t very tall and she’d disappeared in the racks of gear before he got a good look at her.

He found her at a display of women’s helmets, standing on her tiptoes to look at a particular model. Jean kind of had a point; everything about her screamed sweetness and light, and nothing said biker.

Then again Luka’s sister was every inch the sophisticated model, yet she carried a switchblade that she absolutely knew how to use, so Luka knew better than to judge.

“Something I can help you with?” Luka asked, and the girl yelled and jumped away, flailing. Luka had to act fast to grab a rack of gloves that she nearly knocked over. “Sorry,” he said, straightening the rack. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The boss was right, she looked a couple of years of years younger than Luka at least, which would make her seventeen or eighteen at most. Maybe younger, she had one of those faces where it was hard to tell. She was cute, with a light dusting of freckles across her nose, sweet blue eyes, and a growing blush as she stared at him.

“I’m sorry! I’m so clumsy!” she gasped, shrinking a little.

“Don’t worry about it,” Luka said with an easy smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for or would you just like to browse in peace?”

“Oh!” she said, straightening and pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. “Umm, I need a helmet. This one, please. Preferably flat black if you have it. It said on the internet that you carry this brand, so, um…” She held out the note for him shyly and he couldn’t help thinking again that she was awfully cute.

Luka smiled almost involuntarily as he took the note and unfolded it. It had the brand name, model, and even the size on it. “Cool, with this, I can go grab it off the shelf in the back no problem.” He looked up at her, smile growing at her excited face. “You can keep looking around if you want or just meet me at the counter. I’ll be right back.”

Luka went to the stock shelves in the back, unsurprised when Michel popped up next to him. “I don’t think it’s for her,” Luka told him absently as he ran a finger down the row of boxes. “But if she knows someone who rides, maybe she’ll get interested in learning.”

“Hmm,” was all Michel said. He didn’t follow as Luka picked up the right box and walked back out front. She wasn’t standing at the counter. Luka set the box down and turned to look around.

“Miss?” Luka called. There was a yelp and a crash from behind one of the racks. Luka sighed and went in the direction of the noise. He found her on the floor surrounded by boxes of road flares that had been artistically stacked a few minutes ago.

“I’m sorry again,” Luka chuckled, reaching down a hand. “I didn’t think I was that scary,” he teased, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you’re not scary at all, you’re really nice-looking—I mean, you look nice!!” she sputtered as he grinned. “I’m just naturally jumpy,” she sighed as he helped her get to her feet. “And clumsy. My name’s Marinette by the way.” She looked at the boxes on the ground. “I’m so sorry,” she moaned, putting her hands on her head.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Luka reassured her, squeezing her shoulder. She looked up at him and he smiled kindly. “Happens all the time. I’ll clean it up after we get you checked out. Did you need anything besides the helmet?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Marinette said, tapping a finger to her lower lip thoughtfully. Luka had to look away. “No, that’s it,” she said more certainly. “For now, at least.”

Luka motioned her to go ahead of him, and then riveted his eyes to the ceiling when he caught himself checking her out as she passed him. She might be cute and maybe definitely kind of hot but Michel sent him to be professional. He was sure Jean was watching somewhere and the last thing he needed was to give the guy more ammo to resent him.

Luka followed Marinette to the counter and put it between them, sliding over to the register.

“May I take a look at it?” Marinette asked.

“Of course.” He opened the box from her and let her turn the helmet in her hands. She ran her fingers over the outside thoughtfully, but didn’t try to put it on.

Luka leaned on the counter admiring her concentrating face. “Is this for you or are you picking it up for someone else?” Luka asked.

“Oh, it’s for my grandmother,” she said brightly, reaching into her purse. She held out a picture of a badass-looking grey-haired woman leaning against a red Misurati. Luka took it, looking closer. A rather younger Marinette, her hair in pigtails, was standing on her tiptoes grinning hugely over the bike’s saddle.

“Nice ride,” Luka grinned, returning the picture. “She looks like a cool person.”

“She’s super cool!” Marinette exclaimed brightly. “She’s always going on all these adventures. Last time she went…” Luka leaned his elbows on the counter as she went on. She was more than cute, animated, effervescent and completely captivating as she told him about her grandmother’s travels. The amount of love and pride pouring out from her as she spoke touched him.

“You must be really close,” Luka observed when she paused for breath.

“Oh, well we—I mean she’s gone so often—but when she’s here—and I mean my grandfather never really—you know what, it’s complicated, and I’ve taken up enough of your time, I can’t believe you even listened to me ramble on, I’m so sorry—“

“Please don’t apologize,” Luka smiled, setting the bag with her purchase on the counter. “I really didn’t mind. I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I just meant that I can see you love your grandmother very much.”

“I really do,” Marinette smiled. “She’s coming through town soon on her way to the races in Le Mans. I’m hoping I can get this painted by then.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly. “You’re going to get a custom paint job?”

“Yes!” Marinette said, and then hastily. “I mean no. I’m going to do it myself. I already designed the art for it!” She pulled a book out of her bag and flipped through it before showing him a page with a mock up of the helmet she had purchased. The design on the side featured a fairy sending a beam of light from her wand through a prism which fractured the light into a rainbow. Flowers curled artfully around the main design.

“Wow,” was all Luka could say.

“She calls me her little fairy,” Marinette said, touching the fairy silhouette. “I hope she likes it.”

“I’m sure she will,” Luka looked up from the sketch and smiled. “It looks like it’ll be really special.”

Marinette seemed to glow under his praise, as if he was a friend instead of a random stranger. He kind of wished he was. She seemed like a really cool person. For a moment neither of them said anything. A noise from the back brought Luka back to Earth.

“Well, good luck with your gift,” he said. “And I hope you’ll come back if you need anything else. I really wish I could see the finished piece, it sounds awesome.”

“Oh,” Marinette straightened slightly. “Well...I mean if you’re really interested, I could give you my Instagram? That’s where I usually post things I’ve designed.”

“I’d love that,” Luka smiled, grabbing a post-it pad and a pen from beside the register and sliding it over to her. “I’m sure my boss would like to see it, too.”

Marinette beamed at him and his breath caught for a moment.

“See what?”

Luka jumped slightly as Michel loomed over him. “Ah, Marinette here is an artist. She’s planning to do a design on a helmet for her grandmother.”

“I see. Is Luka helping you get what you need?” the big man said gruffly, clearly (to Luka at least) trying to appear as non threatening as possible.

Marinette’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t look at all afraid of the big tattooed shop owner as she turned that blinding smile up again. “Oh, yes, he’s been very helpful, and here I’ve been taking up his time. Thank you so much Luka!”

“My pleasure,” Luka smiled back, handing her the bag. “See you next time.” He watched her until she was out of the door, and wasn’t even aware of his wistful sigh until Michel’s thick hand landed on his shoulder. “Good job, Luka. Not sure if she’ll be back but good customer service is never wasted, especially if she has relatives that ride. If she does come back, she’s yours.”

“Thanks,” Luka said, hiding his smile by looking down at the post-it. He folded it and tucked it in his pocket. “I better go clean up that stuff she knocked down.”

Michel grunted agreement, and Luka got back to work, humming a new melody as he thought about sky blue eyes and a sunshine smile. He ignored Jean’s disgruntled looks easily.

The next time he had an idle moment, Luka leaned on the counter and pulled the post-it out of his pocket and pulled up Marinette’s Instagram. The profile picture was just a logo with a curly monogrammed M, but Marinette was in the first picture, smiling in front of the Eiffel Tower in a striped top and red beret. “Cute. Very French,” Luka commented to himself, and glanced around quickly to make sure he still wasn’t needed. “Wow,” Luka murmured to himself, flicking through the pictures. “These are cool.” He straightened suddenly. “Holy shit, is that Jagged Stone?” He stared at the picture of the rock star with his arm slung around Marinette’s shoulders, pulling a pair of tricolor Eiffel Tower sunglasses down his nose to wink at the camera. Marinette had a silly-looking, but still adorable, grin as she held up two fingers in a V. The caption said she’d designed the sunglasses for the rocker, and Jagged Stone himself (or at least whoever ran his Instagram account) had commented to endorse her. “Wow.” Luka sighed, leaning back on the counter again. “She’s amazing.” Beautiful and sweet and creative...like, crazy talented, wow. He glanced at the door forlornly and sighed. He hoped he got the chance to see her again.

#quickspins #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #i'll never not know you #meet-cute #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fics #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #motorcycle fairy

289 notes · View notes

mrs-amber · 4 years ago

Note

💕 get to know your mutuals!! when you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. they can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. when you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!! 🥺🌼💕

Sending this right back at you ❤️

Hey, babe! idk if you saw that i already answered one of those lmao

but, i’ll be posting another five things about me anyway, following some of your answers haha

1. i have a tattoo in my wrist (that i made without my parents' knowledge lmao, they almost disinherited me when i told them) and I want many others :)) my story about the artist i want is that she moved to another state during quarantine and i texted her, but she never answered 😭

2. i have one ear piercing and the reasons why i don’t have more is a) they’re expensive, b) it took me 6 months to heal that one and c) i almost fainted and it was an easier one than the ones i want now, so... but god, how i want more

3. i have my Instagram since 2014? or the end of 2013, i guess... and i have this thing for a street artist that lives around here... he paints chameleons all around the city and i take photos of them and post them there. he actually has chameleons painted in other states and countries too (a friend of mine from another state has actually sent me a picture of one of them so i could post it haha)

4. i have a boyfriend for more than 4 years now, and he seems to be the only person in my life right now who accepts and supports me for who i am. sometimes my sister does too, but mostly doesn’t

5. i have one single 5cm tall high heel, and i never wear it, because of my fucked up feet. in fact, wearing flip flops for walking too long can put me through pain, so i’m kinda limited in that aspect too... but i love boots! and dresses! and skirts! haha

#don't know if this is shocking in any way lol #but here we go #i'm having a big problem dealing with my family rn #as u might have noticed #but i promise i wil control myself better #and not talk about many sad stuff here #:)))#lov u alina #thanks for the ask!!!#mrs amber #also I don't have a bathtub so I can't say anything about that lmao #🐛 asks

3 notes · View notes

angelic-holland · 6 years ago

Text

Stay At My Place // th x fem!reader

Miss Yer Kiss Part Two

Feel free to read Miss Yer Kiss! Feel free to leave comments or asks with feedback!

Warnings: smut, feelings, actual plot this time, nsfw, 18+ please

Word Count: 12k

Tom checked Instagram the next day, including your page. He was laying in his bed when he clicked your story. He gasped when he saw what was a spitting image of himself in pencil. He took a screenshot of it and almost posted it to his story but decided not to.

He remembered what you told him.

“Let’s agree on one thing. This is a one night stand, that’s it.”

He didn’t want it to be a one night stand. He’s had his share of one night stands, sure. But there was something different about you. Maybe it was your confidence, maybe it was the way you didn’t even care enough to leave your phone number. Maybe it was your tattoos and how he wanted to hear the story behind each and every one of them.

He decided to wait, see if you would DM him since you set out the “only a one night stand” pact.

He heard his doorbell ring and he got out of bed, he checked his phone, who was at his place at 10:30 at night?

He jogged down the stairs, opening the door.

“Hey mate,” Harry says, pushing his way inside.

“What’s up? Were you planning on coming over?”

“Nah last minute decision,” Harry says, walking up the stairs, Tom following.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Is she still here?”

“Who?”

“The girl you left the club with last night.”

“No she’s gone,” Tom frowns.

Harry flops down on the sofa, “oh good.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never been caught mid hook up before, by the paps I mean, mom almost had a fucking heart attack when she saw the pictures of you leaving the restroom of the club.”

“Wait why?”

“Cause she doesn’t know about your other hookups, she also wasn’t expecting pictures of her son with lipstick marks and sex hair leaving a fucking club bathroom.”

“We didn’t fuck in there.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not like, not full sex, fuck off it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, like the stories of people hearing her scream your name aren’t important.”

“Harry! Can it, not like it matters now.”

“Yeah? Do you even remember her name?”

“Course I do, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, remembering how you made him work for it.

“Stop thinking about it you perv,” Harry says, tossing a pillow at Tom as he sits down.

“Shut up, she only wanted a one night stand so I’m gonna respect that.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You always catch up with them after the ‘one night stand’ and see if they want to go on a date, hook up again. It’s your thing.”

“My thing?” Tom scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Well whatever if she wants to talk to me she can DM me on Instagram or something.”

“No she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you get legit thousands of DMs a day, probably more, you wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“I could search for it? Would that work?”

“Maybe.”

***

You’re lying in bed, suitcase packed for the flight you’ve got early tomorrow. You sigh, pulling out your phone. You know what you said. You know you should just forget about the possibility of seeing Tom again. Of interacting with him again. But you couldn’t get that night out of your head.

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, exhaling the smoke from your lungs.

“Not as-,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll leave right now,” you groan.

“Okay! I won’t, just, you look so pretty, the moon really lights up your tattoos, they look good.”

Any of your hook ups, you weren’t used to them complimenting you if that compliment wasn’t about loving your tits or something stupid. They never called you beautiful, like Tom was about to. Or pretty. You opened your Instagram, you decided the other day to post the picture you drew of Tom, even going so far as to tag him. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw he liked the post.

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to send him a message, he’d have a hard time finding it anyways with the probably hundreds of thousands of messages he gets.

You quickly send him a DM.

yourinstagramhandle: thanks for the like, you like the drawing?

You roll your eyes and send a text to Bryce, asking if he wants to go to your graduation.

You go back to Instagram and see you’ve got a DM from none other than Tom.

What the fuck.

***

“wait! She DMed me, holy shit,” Tom says, opening it.

He smiles and responds.

tomholland2013: thought it was okay

tomholland2013: I’m kidding I thought it was great

Yourinstagramhandle: well thanks

Tomholland2013: didn’t think I’d hear from you again

Yourinstagramhandle: almost didn’t DM you but decided I need validation

Tomholland2013: the sex or the drawing?

Yourinstagramhandle: you caught me… both

tomholland2013: well the sex was so good I want to see you again so there’s that. And the portrait is so good I want you to tattoo it on me

Yourinstagramhandle: well damn I’ll take it. Not a tattoo artist yet though, and getting a portrait of yourself tattooed, little self centered don’t you think?

Tomholland2013: just a tad bit.

Tomholland2013: are you still in town?

Yourinstagramhandle: leaving bright and early tomorrow for NYC

Tomholland2013: come over

Yourinstagramhandle: I can’t, I’ll be too busy giving you the time of your life I’ll miss my flight

Tomholland2013: that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Yourinstagramhandle: it is when I’ve got school, finals in two weeks and then I need to beg for a tattoo apprenticeship

Tomholland2013: they’ll be begging you to be their apprentice

Yourinstagramhandle: totally not how it works

Tomholland2013: I fly by New York end of May, can I see you then?

Yourinstagramhandle: sure you won’t have forgotten about me by then?

Tomholland2013: no, already miss your sex, don’t know how I’m gonna go two months without it

Yourinstagramhandle: we could always be horny teenagers and sext. Wanna see my tits?

Tomholland2013: right now?

Yourinstagramhandle: no in two months, yes right now

Tomholland2013: fuck yeah

Tomholland2013: wait send me ur phone number I don’t wanna accidentally save them and have them end up on my Instagram story or something

Yourinstagramhandle: not very good with technology?

Tomholland2013: nope

***

You giggle, pulling off your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you just waited for him to text you.

Unknown number: Y/N?

You: the one and only

Tom: great now show me your tits

You: I better get a picture of your hard cock immediately following

Tom: my brothers here!

You: kick him out or go to your room, my tits look pretty great right now

Tom: please send them, told him to get lost

You: where are you right now?

Tom: couch

You: take your cock out, play with it a little bit

You position yourself in front of the mirror, pinching your nipples a little so they harden before taking a picture and sending it to him.

Tom: holy fuck, missed ur tits so much

You: I’m waiting

You quickly strip your sweatpants and now soaked panties, laying back on the bed.

You groan at the picture he sends, his hard cock in his hand, thighs spread on his couch.

Tom: can I call u

You: Patience baby, one step at a time. Let’s just sext for now

You can practically hear his whine but you wouldn’t answer his call even if he did. You loved teasing him.

Tom: fuck, send me a picture of your pussy

You: why should I?

Tom: please, know you’re probably dripping for me, come on, lemme see it

You smirk, your fingers moving to lazily move through your folds, gently slipping into your hole, you take a few pics, choosing the best one to send to Tom.

Tom: holy fuck, you sure I can’t come over? Wanna eat your pussy so good

Although you’d love that, you knew it wasn’t possible. You sighed, responding to him as your thumb gently rubbed your clit.

You: positive, now be a good boy and jerk your cock for me until you make a mess

You smile, putting your phone down and fucking yourself down on your fingers.

****

“Shit,” Tom groaned, reading your text before his hand sped up. He closed his eyes, pretending it was your hand, pretending you were there with him.

He came embarrassingly quickly with a whimper of your name.

You: and I expect a picture of the mess

He groans, sending a picture of his stomach painted with his come and his softening cock, sending it to you.

You: beautiful

You send him a video a few minutes later.

He cleans his stomach off with a T-shirt before clicking play, feeling his cock twitch as it starts with you whimpering his name.

“Tommy,” you say, the camera angle showing your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy, making the most delicious sound. Your fingers speed up, thumb rubbing your clit as the only noise he hears is his name and the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of you.

You come with a grunt of his name, and he thinks the video is going to cut off but you trail your fingers from your clit up your body, stopping to make gentle circles around your nipples before sucking them into your mouth. He groans as the video stops, right as you moan around your fingers.

Tom: you’ll send me that and not let me come over?

You: gotta keep ya on your toes

Tom: trust me I most certainly am

He sighs, grimacing as he picks up his sticky shirt, tucking his cock back into his shorts.

Tom: we need to do this again

You: I fully intend on it

***

You make it to your flight, Lily talking nonstop the entire trip back to New York about Tom, about if you’re going to meet up with him. How good he was in bed.

“Listen, Lily, I love you, but give it a rest. I’m sure the rest of the people on the plane don’t want to hear about it. I’ll tell you more when we get back to our place. Sound good? Also, you’re gay, you shouldn’t care about this.”

You roll your eyes as she grumbles, turning on a movie as you try to sleep.

When you arrive at your apartment, all you want to do is collapse on your bed and sleep for days. You only have one before you have to be back at work and school, however.

This next week was hectic, you had to finish your final for your portrait class, then you had to finish your oil painting final. The only final you would have to sit for was Art History IV.

You saw a text from Tom that you decided to open.

Tom: hope your flight was nice, good luck with finals

Jesus, you needed a smoke. You begrudgingly got up, grabbing your pack and lighter from your bedside table you pushed open the balcony door, taking your phone with you.

You: thanks, can’t believe I graduate so soon, been a whirlwind

Tom: what’s ur address

You: what

You light your cigarette, waiting for his reply.

Tom: wanna send you a graduation gift

You: like what

Tom: just something

Tom: on a completely different note what size bra and panties do you wear

You: I like the way you think.

You send him all the information he asked for, finishing your cigarette and lighting up another one. It was a bad habit of yours, you were well aware, but you started smoking with your ex when you first started college and you were, like most people who smoke, addicted. You planned to stop eventually, they drained money from your account and you’d need to start saving more for a chair at a tattoo shop anyways.

Tom: What are you up to now?

You: having a smoke then going to take a nap

Tom: oh

You: what?

Tom: just was gonna say we can call or video chat if you wanted to

You: although the idea of getting off together over the phone sounds amazing baby, I needa take a nap

Tom: after?

You: I’d want nothing more

You finish your other cigarette before going back inside, flopping down on your bed and closing your eyes.

You wake up to Lily shaking you awake, “Y/N, it’s been like so long you should get up.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday, like 2pm.”

“Oh shit,” you say, getting up.

You check your phone, a few missed calls from Tom, one text from Bryce asking if you wanted to work tonight around 6. The shop was closed but there was going to be a small cleaning day according to him.

You quickly text Bryce back, telling him you’ll be there. You send a message to Tom as well, unsure of what time it was over there.

You: sorry I totally suck but I’ll make it up to you. I’m going into work into work at 6pm my time, call me before then.

You lock your door, quickly shutting the door and curtains that lead to your balcony.

You jump back into bed and see your phone buzz, Tom. You quickly pick up.

“Thought you were gonna ghost me,” he laughs.

“Nah, like your dick too much.”

“Y/N, don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Oh, are you hard right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you free?”

“Course.”

“Good, are you naked?”

You hear him suck in a deep breath, “not yet.”

“Okay so get naked.”

“Are you?”

“I’m about to be baby, like I said, gotta work on your patience.”

It’s silent other than the sound of both of you taking your clothes off. You put the phone on speaker and lay it down next to you.

“You naked?” He asks, panting.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say you could?” You grin, hearing him swear.

“What’s this game we’re playing Y/N?”

“Just listen to my instructions baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

“Fine,” you hear him grumble.

“You don’t haveta, you can hang up and get yourself off if you wanna.”

“No, no, okay I’m not touching myself, what do you want?”

“Want you to tease yourself, lick your palm, rub it down your chest, don’t touch your cock yet.”

He swears but does what you say, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Good, go ahead, wrap your hand around your cock, but don’t move, just feel the weight of yourself in your palm, feel good? Wish it was me, my hand wrapped around you?” You ask, letting your fingers pinch your nipples.

“Fuck, wish it was something else.”

“Yeah? What do you wish it was?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“You’re, fuck, can I move my hand? Please?” You hear him whine.

“What do you wish it was Tom?”

“Your lips, wish your lips were wrapped around me right now.”

“Wish I was there right now, wish I could suck you off, maybe if you were being good I’d let you fuck my mouth, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

You loved how worked up he got just from being told what to do. You hand slipped down to your pussy, slipping a finger into your wet heat as you gave him his next instruction.

“Go ahead baby, jerk your cock for me.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts and you can hear him start to move, his bed moving beneath him.

“Feel good? Wish it was my pussy wrapped around your cock?” You ask, slipping another finger into yourself, moaning.

“Are you, you touching yourself too?”

“Course, not nearly as good as you touching me,” you groan, thumb rubbing your clit.

“Wish, fuck, wish I could see you right now.”

“Tom, feels so good, wish these were your fingers fucking into me, wish you were getting me off,” you whine, fingers speeding up.

“Yeah? Wish I could eat that pretty pussy of yours, make you come undone over and over again on my tongue,” he groans your name several times.

“Gonna come? You wanna come for me baby?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop please, wanna come, can I come?” he grunts and you grin. You were surprised he was asking permission and you let out a throaty groan as his moans get higher and higher pitched.

“Yes, come on baby, come all over yourself for me, take a picture when you’re done, wanna see how much of a mess you made for me.”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m coming, fuck,” he whimpers your name a few times and that’s all it takes for you to come undone.

“Shit,” you laugh, fingers slipping out from you.

“Yeah?”

“That was fun,” you giggle, before wiping your fingers off on your sheets.

“Agreed.”

You hear your phone buzz and you check it.

Another picture, this time Tom’s face was included. He was biting his lip, hand not holding the phone was in his hair, your eyes wandered down to his chest, red and sweaty, his stomach covered in his come, cock softening against his hip.

“Look so pretty baby,” you say, taking off your phone speaker.

“Thank you,” he laughs.

“Okay I gotta go get ready for work, talk to you later?”

“Great plan.”

“Bye.”

“You know your phone was on speaker right?” You hear Lily shout and you laugh so hard you’re almost in tears.

“Sorry!”

“Well at least I know what he’s like in bed now.”

***

You arrive at Tattoo Dice and the doors are locked, lights off. Maybe you were the first to get there, your apartment being so close, so you unlocked the door with your copy of the store key.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people shout and you’re bombarded by every tattooer, piercer, and front desk assistant holding balloons and streamers and those little things that pop, you couldn’t remember the name.

“Holy shit what’s this for?” You ask, confused.

“Your graduation,” Bryce says, stepping out from the crowd, “we couldn’t find a time when everyone was free after your graduation so now is close enough.”

“Yeah? Wow thank you,” you laugh as he guides you to the sofa in the waiting area, where a cake was waiting.

“What?” You ask, reading it.

“What’s it say?”

“Happy graduation and apprenticeship.”

You look between Bryce and the cake, “you fucking didn’t.”

“I did. I’ve never seen such talent and skill, you’ve been here for 4 years, you’re going to have to start looking for an apprenticeship when you graduate, I don’t want my competition swooping in and stealing you.”

You felt tears in your eyes, this never happened.

“Of course, you’ll have to put in the work and the effort, and pay for your chair but I have no doubt in my mind you can do that.”

“Thank you Bryce. Really,” you say, hugging him.

“Alright, no more crying, it’s cake time.”

***

You were anxiously awaiting the grade for your portrait. It took like every waking moment, the theme was “two sides of every story”. You knew exactly what to do.

You had called Tom after your party, shocked he was still awake.

“So, my portrait final, I was wondering if one of your buddies could take a photo of you sitting on a stool, like positioned in a corner, so your shadow is still in the shot.”

“Want me naked?”

You roll your eyes, “no, it’s, the theme is two sides of every story, so I want to draw you, maybe as Peter Parker, then your shadow will be Spiderman.”

“Holy fuck that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, do you think you could do it tomorrow morning? So the light hits you just right?”

“Course.”

“Thank you Tom,” you sigh, laying down.

“No problem. Keep your eye out for your mail.”

“Huh?”

“Your present.”

“Oh you know you don’t haveta get me anything. Don’t even know if anyone is going to my graduation,” you laugh.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nobody’s going to your graduation?”

“It’s, I mean, Bryce is going to try, not like I have anyone else.”

Shit fuck, fuck. You didn’t need to share personal shit with him.

“What about, you don’t haveta, I don’t know if this is a touchy subject for you, if you don’t wanna talk about it you don’t have to.”

“Why nobody’s going to my graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“See how easy it was? Anyways, don’t know who my dad is, mom left me on a police station’s doorstep when I was three like I was a newborn baby and it was the 1950s.”

“She did What now?”

“She had really bad postpartum depression, couldn’t handle having a kid I guess, left me on the police doorstep and I bounced around different foster homes. Never stayed in one place for more than a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For all that, for how you hadta grow up.”

“It was fine really, Art was what kept me going, it was the only thing I really had from home to home, only school subject I was able to do well in since it didn’t require previous knowledge.”

“Well I’m glad you got something good out of everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes.

“When is it again?”

“When’s what?”

“Your graduation.”

“Oh, April 15th.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, guess what?”

“What?” You can hear he’s more distant now, probably wants to ask why you don’t have anyone going to your graduation, he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Bryce offered me an apprenticeship.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’ve got just enough saved up to pay for my equipment and chair for the first few months, when I’m tattooing for free, then eventually I’ll get paid, might haveta take out a loan for my apartment or move somewhere cheaper but since I won’t be spending money for the subway to get to school it’ll cut my expenses. Jesus why am I rambling sorry you don’t wanna hear all this.”

“No I do, I do,” He says and you can hear some enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s late you should go to bed.”

“Maybe we can talk in the morning?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, “goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

You giggle as you hang up, running a hand over your face. You were fucking exhausted. The next morning you woke up to a picture message from Tom.

Holy shit, the picture was perfect, just what you needed.

You: this is legit amazing how’d you make it look so good?

Tom: brother is like an amateur photographer

You: nothing amateur about this. Thanks no I get to stare at your picture for the next 50 hours.

Tom: 50???

You: more or less, for the portrait, then the oil painting, now go away I’m meant to work

Your portrait professor said you could go into the studio to draw, since it was a full color design, but if you wanted to do it in the comfort of your own home you could. You opted to take your work to the tattoo studio, sprawling out in the back office.

“You’ve got it bad dontcha?” Bryce asks, seeing your initial outline of the sketch.

“What?”

“This kid in the drawing, it’s the same one you drew the other day. You sleep with him?”

“None of your business,” you say, “scram I gotta finish this outline.”

“It’s almost done, you’ve been working for 6 hours, you need a break.”

“Fine, wanna grab some coffee?”

“Let’s go kiddo,” Bryce says, helping you off the ground.

Bryce takes you to the coffee shop next door. You know you’re going to have to tell him about Tom.

Most of the time he acted like your fun uncle, wanted to know what you were up to but wouldn’t give you any advice or warnings. Recently he’d been more of a wise father, which you had no problem with, never having one of your own to rely on.

“So, he’s famous right? Does movies? How’d that happen?” He asks as you sit in a booth.

“Met him at a club in London.”

“And you…”

“Yes, we did, thought it was just gonna be, you know, that, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, think he’s gonna visit on his way to a press thing.”

“So are you two dating? Messing around? What do kids these days call it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t know. Like, it would be cool to date him, but at the same time I like what we’ve got now. He’s all over the place all the time, lives in London, while I’m here, how’d that work?”

“Think you could find a way to make it work, if it’s worth it.”

“Well, dunno if it’s worth it.”

“You’re doing your final project on him, I think it’s worth it.”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

“So maybe you should see how he feels?”

“Too soon for that.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be by your side whatever you chose. Alright let’s get back I’ve got a tattoo to do and you’ve got shading and colors to start.”

“Then I’m working at 6.”

“Yep, got 5 more hours of work to do, let’s get to it lady.”

***

By the time your shift started you had almost finished your outline in black and erased the pencil underneath it.

You were happy with how it looked, sending a photo to Tom. Tomorrow you had to go into school for your art history class, only two more lessons left.

Tom: holy shit looks amazing, and now you have to color it?

You: Yep, most of the time will be color, then my oil painting

Tom: What will be your oil painting?

You: was gonna make an oil painting of the Spiderman mask but I don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you or something

Tom: I wouldn’t mind, your art blows my mind

Tom: also I’m kinda obsessed with you too

You: good

You smirk at his texts, locking up for the night at 11:30, saying goodnight to Bryce who made his way upstairs to his apartment.

“See you tomorrow,” you wave, sending him one more.

The next day is filled with rushing to class, your professor telling you that the final class period was optional, knowing you all had plenty of work to do for other classes. You almost cheered.

When class wrapped up you made your way to the studio, working a mid to close shift, you weren’t going to have much time to work on your portrait.

You were able to use your colored pencils to get the color of his shirt, a blue button up, and his khaki pants done. You wanted to save the details of the Spiderman suit and his face for when you had more time.

By the time 1pm rolled around you were satisfied with how much work you had left and the time you had to do it.

You spent the rest of the day greeting customers, helping them pick out jewelry, copying their consent forms. You had fun as the front desk assistant and would no doubt do it for as long as they wanted you, but you were dying to have a turn with the tattoo machine.

The phone rings, and you answer.

“Hello, Tattoo Dice by Bryce, this is Y/N, how can I help you today?” You ask, pen and paper in hand.

“Hello, is Bryce in?” A low voice asks.

“He is, doing some paperwork in his office. Can I help you?”

“Was hoping to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll check to see if he’s taking calls,” you frown, clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a tattoo shop before or understand any etiquette of tattoo shops.

You put the person on hold and ring the back office, “someone wants to speak to you? Do I tell them off or let them through?”

“Feel like being nice, put them through.”

You transfer the line to the back office and look back at your portrait, taking out your skin tone set of colored pencils. There was a lull in the shop around dinner time and you decided to color his body in while there was some silence.

****

“Hello, this is Bryce, how can I help you?”

“Hi, you’re, you’re Y/N’s boss right?”

“Yes, who’s this, Wait, are you that Tom fella? No distracting her at work.”

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t. I was just wondering, she told me you might go to her graduation.”

“That’s right.”

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you could get a second ticket? I wanted to surprise her, but I wouldn’t know how to get a ticket.”

“Do you think she would want you there?”

“I don’t, I would hope so, I mean, I don’t know how to ask her without giving away that I want to surprise her.”

“Well I’ll ask her, hold on.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes, just you wait a minute.”

****

Bryce strolls out of his office rolling his eyes, “some random asshole who doesn’t know what our cancellation policy is. Trying to cancel our appointment for tomorrow and get his money back at the same time.”

“Huh, weird that he asked for you.”

“Well I’m his artist, makes sense.”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod, eyeing Bryce as he sits on the stool next to you.

“Looks good so far,” he nods as you shade in his neck.

“Thanks,” you hum, changing the color for his face, slightly darker color to contrast the light from the window you would add later.

“So, your graduation.”

Your face drops and you stop coloring. He doesn’t want to go. Or he is too busy.

“You don’t haveta go, stupid for me to invite you, it’s whatever,” you sigh.

“No, no I was going to ask if I could get two tickets, for Adrien and I.”

“He’d wanna come?”

“What’s my husband gonna do? Sit and look pretty? We’re not open on Sundays he won’t have work.”

“I’d love to get you two tickets.”

****

“Do you like your presents?”

You giggled, looking through the box of lingerie.

“You didn’t need to get me all these.”

“But I want a photo shoot,” he whines.

You pick up a small handwritten card.

For you princess, I expect photos of you in all of them. Xx Tom

“You’ll get a photo shoot mister,” you laugh, putting your phone on speaker and taking off your clothes.

They were from an online store, all in the sizes you sent him. There were more elaborate pieces but you picked up a lacy red bralette with matching red lace panties. Most of the lingerie was red.

“Is red your favorite color?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“You look so fucking good in red princess. Wait FaceTime me.”

“Okay okay,” you say, hanging up and moving to FaceTime.

“Fuck I didn’t know you’d be naked for me,” Tom groans, laying on his bed, you could see he was shirtless and were hoping there was nothing on underneath.

“Go ahead baby, put on those pretty little numbers on for me,” he says as you prop your phone up on your bedside table.

You put on the first red lacy set, posing for Tom. The camera slowly moves lower to his hand gripping his cock as he jerks off.

“Don’t come too soon, got lots more to show you.”

You show him the same set in black, causing him to bite his lip and thrust into his hand.

The next bit is a little more elaborate, lots of tiny hooks to clip in the back, and you struggle for a bit, laughing when you trip over your own two feet and Tom sits up, concerned you hurt yourself.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, getting the last hook done. You turn back to him, showing off the red lace corset that made your tits look so good, right down to where it trailed off into a lace trim hanging right above your bare pussy.

“Love this one, wanna leave marks all over your chest, tease those hard nipples of yours, shit, so pretty,” he says, hand moving faster.

“Have 911 on hold while I take this off,” you joke, fingers struggling again to unhook it. Once you do you put your hands on your knees and mock being out of breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t gotta try the others on, it’s fine,” Tom starts but you cut him off.

“Are these crotchless panties?” You gasp and look up at him. He’s blushing a little and nods.

“You don’t needa wear them, thought they’d be fun, I don’t know, don’t worry about it.”

“No Tom, I fucking love them, holy shit I could come just thinking about how useful these could be.”

You quickly slide them up your legs, fingers spreading your lips, loving how snug the fabric felt around your hips and ass but how bare and exposed your pussy was.

“Look so pretty, come on, go lie on the bed and play with your pussy,” he says, camera shaking a little as his hand speeds up.

“In these?” You ask, laying on the bed and tilting your phone so he could see your fingers move down your chest, pinching each of your nipples.

“Yes, fuck yourself with those panties, wanna see if they work,” he grunts and you follow through, fingers dipping lightly into yourself, the hole in the panties perfect for this.

“Go ahead princess stuff yourself full for me.

“Shit,” you whine, fucking yourself with your fingers.

You could hear his moans get throatier, you knew he was going to come.

“Fuck, touch your clit, come on baby,” he whines and you do just that, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan.

“Come for me princess,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.

Your fingers speed up and you come like a horny teenager with a cry of his name.

He comes right after, and you bring the phone up to your face, giggling a little as he licks his lips.

“Feel like a fucking teenager right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Hella horny all the time, sexting.”

“Wish you were here,” he sighs, hand running through his hair.

“Me too,” you yawn.

“How are you tired it’s like 6pm there.”

“Been working nonstop on your projects, finally finished them today after pulling an all-nighter. Gotta pass them in tomorrow.”

“Can I see them?”

“Course. But I’m gonna sleep now. And you should too! It’s late over there.”

“You’re right.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

***

“You should try juuling,” Tom says nonchalantly.

“What?” You almost choke, smoke exhaling out of your nostrils, you cough for the first time while smoking in three years.

“To help you stop smoking, you told me you wanted to stop, eventually, heard juuling helps.”

You roll your eyes at the boy on the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Sure,” you say, “just, I’m graduating today, got some nerves to shake out.”

“But you did it, and your portrait professor said yours was the best work she’s seen this year.”

“Yeah, thank you for your pretty face.”

“Of course,” he grins.

“Where are you right now?” You ask, the bed behind him not his own, he never said he had any filming or press. His next press thing was a week from now in Mexico according to him. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, what if he’s at another girl’s place? You know you never said anything about seeing other people, you were just messing around, why did what he did in his free time matter to you?

Sure you texted every day, not just sexted. You learned about his friends, his likes, his dislikes, anything and everything, all the little fun facts about him. But that was just getting to know the person you’re sleeping with, right?

He must’ve seen the look of confusion mixed with hurt on your face because he sat up and his eyes widened.

“Nevermind, doesn’t matter, I haveta, I gotta go.”

You were going to wait for him to answer but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more so you hung up quickly.

“Fuck,” you say, tears stinging your eyes as you finish your cigarette and immediately start another one.

“Hey! Y/N, we gotta get going- fuck, what’s wrong?” Lily asks as she joins you on your balcony.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, sniffling as you take a long drag.

“Clearly you’re not fine you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“I just, I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

You silently finish your cigarette, Lilly rubbing your back as you stub the end into your ashtray.

“I think Tom was at someone else’s place, like in someone else’s bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid, we never said we were a thing this was just, we’re just fooling around so it doesn’t matter what he does in his free time.”

“Did you hear what he had to say?”

“No, feel like a fucking idiot, didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him anymore.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him you wanna be official, wanna be boyfriend girlfriend or whatever. It’s obvious you’ve got feelings for him.”

“Nah, he’s, he's famous, he’d never be around,” you shrug.

“Okay, But doesn’t change how you feel. So put on your big girl panties, stop crying, we’ve got a graduation to get to.”

“Don’t gotta leave for a few hours.”

“Two.”

“Okay, so I’m going to smoke this entire pack of cigarettes then we can graduate.”

“You’re seriously going to stand here and chain smoke?”

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing another cigarette.

“Just call him back, call him once and see what’s up, okay? Don’t be stupid and sound like an old lady for graduation.”

“Fuck off,” you groan.

“Fine, but just, call him okay?”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Lily sighs and leaves you on the balcony alone. You look back at your phone. Nothing. It didn’t matter anyways, maybe you scared him off enough that you wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness that came with feelings.

You shrugged, wiping the stupid fucking tears from your eyes, grabbing another cigarette. Maybe you would get a juul or whatever they were called, cigarettes were fucking expensive and as your apprenticeship got closer you realized how fucked you were. It only made her angrier.

You couldn’t think about that now. Instead, you focused on the ring of smoke you blew from your mouth, the burning sensation you felt in your lungs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, smoking as the sun got higher in the sky and the bustling life of Queens began to start. It was a Sunday so everyone was going to church or catching up on errands.

You heard a knock on the door to your tiny apartment and the door swing open. You ignore it, thinking it might be Lily’s girlfriend here so you all could travel to graduation together.

You finish your cigarette, the knocking on the door starting up again.

“Who the fuck, Lily, who is it?” You shout, making your way back inside, closing your balcony door. You toss your pack and lighter on your bedside table before walking the very few steps to your front door.

“Lily, where the fuck are you?” You groan before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Who the fuck-,”

“Surprise?”

Tom was standing in front of you, wearing a really nice suit, eyes red.

“Oh. Oh!” Him in a different bed, acting sort of weird over the past few days made sense.

“I’m sorry. I, I was going to surprise you at your graduation but when you asked where I was I didn’t want you to think that I was with someone else or something, and I’m sorry if you don’t want me to be here I just thought I didn’t wanna wait until May to-,”

You cut him off pressing your lips against his, taking him off guard he stumbles back, arms wrapping around your body to draw you tight against him.

“I want to see you too,” you mumble against his lips, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, glad you liked your surprise,” Lily says, breaking the two of you apart.

His hands were still tight on your waist, your hands cupping his face, you just nodded, looking at Tom who stared right back at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, smiling.

“I think I’m even happier that I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Prove it,” his eyes dart between your lips and your own eyes.

“Okay, so I’m going to meet Lexie downstairs for coffee, if I don’t see the both of you down there in 30 minutes so we can get to graduation on time I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Lily interrupts and you sigh, forehead pressed against Tom’s.

“Bye Lily,” you shout as she slams the front door.

“Missed you,” you say as you lead him the short way past your kitchen into your bedroom.

“Missed you too princess,” he says, kissing down your neck.

“Now it’s your turn not to leave any marks,” you say, “don’t wanna look trashy when I walk the stage.”

“So I can leave marks here?” He asks, hands moving to grope your breasts.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper, tugging at his suit coat.

“Missed yer kiss,” Tom says, lips meeting yours again as you both struggle to undress each other.

“Don’t have lotsa time,” you say, pushing him back so you can quickly slip out of your sundress.

“Fuck, that’s one of the sets that I gotcha, you like it?”

You nod as he quickly gets out of his clothes, watching as you toss your bra and panties to the side.

“Fuck, Missed yer tits,” he groans, accent thicker, voice rougher.

“Touch me, come on, no time,” you say, moving to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“How are we gonna,” he says gesturing to your bed.

“I know it’s not as good as your king bed. Actually it’s garbage compared to your bed but it’s all that’ll fit in this fucking room,” you say, pushing him down on your twin bed.

You straddle his hips, grinding down on his hard cock as he plays with your tits, sucking and marking them as much as he can.

You hurriedly slip the condom onto his cock and sit on his cock, his teeth gliding against your nipple as you do.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine as his hands grip your ass, encouraging you to move.

“Come on, not much time,” he says as you start to bounce on his lap.

“Fuck,” you groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you move quicker.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Shhh,” you whimper, a finger moving to your clit, rubbing it eagerly. He kisses you hard, his lips telling you something without words.

You didn’t want to admit it but you were so excited he was here, if you had to sext one more time you would lose your mind. And whether you would say it out loud or not, you didn’t really want to sleep with someone else to relieve the tension you felt since that night. Your tongue met his in your mouth, his touches softer tonight than a little bit ago, tender. You both reached your highs pretty quickly and Tom would’ve been embarrassed save for the fact that he’s waited so long for this and the sight of you on top of him, the way your lips felt against his, he was a goner, in every sense of the word.

“Wow,” you say as Tom helps you off of him.

“Missed yer sex,” he laughs, taking the condom off as you start to get dressed.

“I’m very grateful you’re here.”

“I think that Manhattan could hear your box spring.”

“Well now they all know how good I’m getting it.”

“What’re your plans later tonight?”

“Well, was gonna go out to like an early dinner late lunch with Bryce and Adrien. Wait how did you even get a ticket to my graduation?”

“Asked Bryce actually.”

“Yeah? How is Adrien going?”

“That’s his husband right? Not sure,” he says, getting dressed as well.

“Hmm, well we’ll see him there. I’ll be right back gonna run to the bathroom make sure I look presentable.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

“Thanks buddy, but we just fucked so I’d like to make sure it doesn’t look like that at my graduation.”

“Good plan,” he laughs, buttoning his shirt.

You make your way to the bathroom, peeing before brushing through your hair. Your sundress showed off your sleeves and upper back tattoos so you grabbed the sunscreen.

“Lather me up,” you say, handing Tom the sunscreen.

“Aren’t you going to be wearing a gown?”

“Nah, it’s art school, we have the hat things, whatever they’re called, but we just wear those and call it a day.”

Tom shrugs, pulling you down onto his lap, he leaves gentle kisses along your tattoos before applying the sunscreen to it, rubbing it into your skin.

“Ready to go?” You ask, about to move from your position on his lap.

He shakes his head and you frown, tilting your head curiously, “wha-,”

He kisses you, hands cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. You swipe your tongue across his lips but he pulls back, “nuh uh.”

“What?”

“Lily is going to kill us, let’s go, I’ve got a special lady to cheer on.”

“Oh? Special?”

He nods as you reluctantly get off his lap, “she’s pretty great, I’ll have to introduce her to ya eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nod, pulling him out of your room. You grab your purse and your grad cap from the kitchen counter.

***

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” the dean of the college says and you grin as you walk on stage, shaking his hand and taking your diploma. The crowd is cheering and you definitely couldn’t seen Bryce, Tom or Adrien in it but you knew they were there. Cheering you on, somewhere.

The ceremony ended a little while after all the names were called and you all threw up your grad caps in the air, you felt cheesy doing it but here you were, a wide smile on your face as you tossed it up in the air with the rest of your class.

***

“So Tom, you’ve been acting since you were little?” Bryce asks as you all sit at the booth of a small diner near Tattoo Dice, the same shop you and Bryce got coffee at a little bit ago.

“Yes,” he nods, hand resting on your thigh.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever acted in?” Adrien asks.

“I know people probably expect me to say the MCU and Spiderman but I quite enjoyed doing Billy Elliot when I was younger.”

“Would you ever do musical theater again? Or theater? Or will you stick to the big screen?”

“You know, I really loved theater, so who knows maybe I’ll make a musical theater revival. I’d haveta work on my voice first but yeah, maybe.”

“And your new movie comes out soon right? The new Spiderman?” Bryce asks.

“Yep, I start the press tour in like a week? Just about.”

“So you travel a lot?”

“Okay, let’s cool it with the 20 questions,” you laugh, “let’s not scare him away.”

“Oh I don’t scare easily,” Tom smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your thigh.

This was the first time any of your hooks up or, you didn’t want to say this and jinx it, any of your boyfriends met Bryce and Adrien, the closest you’d ever come to actual parents.

Maybe Tom knew you were nervous, hell everything about you gave it away. Your leg was bouncing up and down, his hand didn’t stop your leg from moving, just rested it there, which was comforting.

“So, you own the shop is that right?” Tom asks, “and Adrien, you’re the shop’s piercer?”

“Yep, opened Tattoo Dice 19 years ago.”

“And Y/N will be, what’s it called, she’ll learn how to tattoo from you?”

“Yeah, she’ll be my apprentice, she’s going to get started on synthetic skin first, so she gets the feel of the tattoo needle, then she’ll learn basic health and safety of tattooing, stuff she’s already learned since she’s gotten so many tattoos and is the front desk attendant but she’ll get certified officially while apprenticing.”

“So it’s a lot of work huh?”

“She’ll be working hard but that’s what she’s always done so I’m not worried.”

“You’re too kind Bryce,” you say, blushing a little.

“I’ve got no doubt you’ll be fantastic,” Tom says, kissing your cheek.

“So, we start my training tomorrow?” You ask as the four of you stand outside the coffee shop. Tom had got you both a taxi back to your place, Bryce and Adrien would head back to their apartment above the shop.

“Actually, why don’t we start next Monday?”

“Monday? What will I do until then?”

“Relax? Have a little break? You’ve trained the person taking your place, you can still work your evening shifts if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“Gotta pay rent so yeah I think I’ll work this week.”

“Don’t be afraid to take some time off, relax, you deserve it.”

“I will, promise.” “Alright, there’s your taxi, get lost, and congrats kid,” Bryce says, pulling you into a hug. You relax in his arms, and laugh as Adrien hugs the both of you.

“Okay, okay, relax, rest, get lost,” you say, pushing out of their hug.

“Congrats,” Adrien says as you slip into the taxi with Tom.

“Congrats grad,” Tom says, lips gently kissing right below your ear.

“Cheeseball,” you say, his fingers intertwining with your own.

“That does not sound tasty.”

“No it really doesn’t,” you laugh.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, save for a few comments from Tom about the other driver’s here, how terrifying they all were, with little care for pedestrians or other cars.

“Guess that’s what it’s like in New York,” you shrug as Tom pays the taxi driver.

“So, nightcap?” He asks as you bring him up to your apartment.

“It’s like 6pm it’s way too early for a nightcap,” you laugh, “but I can, I can think of other things we can do to occupy our time.”

“Oh yeah? What did ya have in mind princess?” he asks, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out?”

“Your friend isn’t home?”

“Nah her and Lexi will be with their families and then at Lexi’s place, we’ve got a whole 500 square feet to ourselves.”

“You don’t even have a living room.”

“Hey, I’ve got a twin bed and a balcony that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Whatever you say,” he sighs.

“Come here,” you say, pulling him close, lips meeting his.

You stumble back towards your room, fumbling with the door as Tom’s hands glide under your dress, gripping your ass.

“Missed your hands,” you say as he slaps your ass, your dress bunched at your waist as he pushes you down onto your bed.

You pull your dress over your head as you move up your bed, watching as Tom gets undressed.

You start to take off your bra but he stops you, hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Lemme undress you baby,” he says, straddling your hips and kissing up your stomach. He kisses the tops of your breasts before making his way back to your lips, leaving as many marks as he can on the way up.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan as his hands move to unclip your bra, tossing it to the side.

“Lemme make ya feel good princess,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure as his fingers play with the other one before switching sides. His hips grind down against yours and you so desperately wanted to get his underwear off, so you could feel him but you decided to be patient, decided it would be worth the wait.

He makes his way back down your body, fingers tugging down your panties, “practically dripping for me, you excited to see me or something?”

“As if you aren’t,” you huff, growing impatient as he breathes against you, so close to where you want him.

“Be patient for me, okay? Almost there,” he says, before kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, tugging you down so your legs are propped up on his shoulders.

You immediately moan at the sensation of his tongue against your clit, slowly lapping at it before moving to your entrance, licking through your folds.

“Fuck come on,” you groan, hands flying to his hair.

“Tug away baby, won’t give you what you want until you’re patient for me.”

You whine, hands tugging at him, frustrated, you lay your head against your bed and let him tease you.

He grins against you and you feel his finger push inside you, tongue making gentle strokes against your clit.

“Good girl,” he says, another finger pushing into you, he starts to pick up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in earnest.

“Fuck come on Tom, make me come,” you say, the knot in your stomach forming way too quickly.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while fucking into you harder.

His teeth graze your clit and you come with a cry of his name, pulsing against him. His fingers slip out of you as he kisses your thighs, dropping them to the side of his shoulders.

“Missed you,” he says, kissing his way back up your body.

You’re still horny as fuck, you wanted him to get a move on so you grabbed his shoulders tugging him on top of you, “fuck me, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Tom smiles, kissing you softly, too soft for what you’re about to do.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for your bedside table grabbing a condom from the drawer.

“Those been sitting there waiting for me?”

“I was getting ready for the end of May, gotta stock up.”

“So smart,” he says, pushing his underwear down his legs and tosses them to the side.

You rip open the condom and help him slide it down his cock, he groans as you jerk him off, kissing down your neck as he hikes your thigh up around his waist.

“Come on, fuck me,” you whimper as his cock rubs against your folds.

“This what you want princess?” He asks, bottoming out, smirking as you cry out his name.

“Let’s go,” you say, your hips moving up to grind against his.

“All yours tonight princess,” he says, one hand holding himself up while the other cups your face, kissing you as he begins to move.

Tonight wasn’t any less pleasurable than the night a few weeks ago, although the way he made you feel was very different.

He wasn’t any gentler with his thrusts, but his movement was more deliberate, more meaningful.

“Come on, make me come, baby,” you say, arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Gotcha princess,” he says, hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck, make me come around your cock, please,” you whine and his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans as you come.

His thrusts get faster and sloppier, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Feel so, feel so fucking good,” he says, voice deeper.

“Come for me, please, wanna feel you Tommy,” you whine and he groans, face tucked into your neck as he comes, hips slowing to a stop.

“Wow,” you laugh as he pulls out of you, sitting up and taking the condom off.

“Still good?”

“Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Hmmm, three weeks? Give or take?” He asks, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up and kissing him. Something about the way he kissed you, it wasn’t needy like he would never see you again, but just his lips, soft and warm and against yours.

“Needa smoke, hop off me Holland,” you say against his lips and he nods, getting off the bed.

You open your closet grabbing two t-shirts and slipping one over your head, tossing the other one at Tom.

“The view from the balcony is really pretty, I’ll be right back,” you say, kissing his cheek before grabbing your panties.

You wink at him before going to the bathroom, peeing and splashing some water on your face. When you go back to your room you grab your smokes and lighter from your bedside table. You watch Tom lean against your small balcony railing, feet crossed and head tilted towards the sunset.

You grab sleep shorts and pull them up before stepping onto the balcony.

“Hey handsome,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, kissing his neck.

“Hey to you too,” he says, relaxing into your arms.

“Told ya the view is pretty,” you say, face tucked into his neck.

You feel Tom pause, unsure of his next words.

“My favorite is when it’s late out, not all the lights are off, obviously, it’s New York, but when most of them are off, past midnight usually, you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“We should do that,” he mumbles, hands resting over yours.

“Good idea,” you nod, unwrapping your arms and slipping next to him.

He watches as your black acrylics tap against the railing, one hand fiddling with your pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“What is it?”

“I should quit these things.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you no, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you should do.”

“Maybe I’ll get that juul or the gum or patch or whatever, cigarettes cost so fucking much anyways, gotta cut costs somewhere and I’d rather not live off of ramen and popcorn for the next few months.”

“Up to you,” he says, watching you get a cigarette and hold up your lighter.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow’s another day, I’ll finish off the rest of my cigarettes and then I’ll stop.”

Tom raises his eyebrows at you and you shake your head, “I’m not every other smoker who says they’ll quit tomorrow and then tomorrow becomes the next day and the next day and so on, never said I was gonna quit before. But I think, I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“No, go ahead, what is it?”

“I feel like I’m opening a new chapter, art school is done, I’m gonna be a tattoo artist soon, hopefully, and-,”

“And you’ve got me.”

“Hmmm?” you ask, turning towards him.

“I mean, if you want, I just, I figured, I’d like to be a part of this new chapter of your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I- if you don’t wanna, I can do, it’s,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you, fuck, this is so dumb, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I uh, sort of already assumed we were, you know, an item. So yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Dork.”

Before you realize what you’re doing you’re hugging him, arms tight around his neck, body as close as you could be to him in this moment. His arms wrap around your back almost immediately after you hug him. You stay in each other’s arms, just breathing, for some amount of time, time with Tom felt all too quick but drawn out at the same time. But you also really needed to smoke. You pulled away from him and pull out a cigarette.

“Let me,” He says, nodding towards the lighter in your hand.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, handing it over. He attempts to flick the lighter on a few times, biting his lip in concentration.

You put your thumb over his, showing him how to pull the safety tab down to spark the lighter.

The two of you stare at the small flame of your lighter between you, illuminating each of his freckles and each of your tattoos as the sun sets over the balcony.

“Here,” he says as you slip the cigarette between your lips. He holds the lighter to it and you nod when it’s lit, taking a drag before turning away from Tom and blowing the smoke out of your lungs.

“I had to smoke cigars, for a movie once, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not something you want to be good at,” you laugh.

His hands wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you finish your cigarette.

“What do ya wanna do tomorrow?”

“Hmm, you don’t have somewhere to run off to? Your press thingy, what’s it called? In Mexico?”

“That’s next week, I uhm I’ve got my hotel for the week. We can go there if you want. It’ll be like a staycation for you.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Stay at my place, tonight, there’s a little breakfast place I want to take you to, about a block from here. Only if you wanna.”

“Of course I wanna girlfriend.”

“Oh my god shut up,” you laugh, finishing your cigarette.

“Okay, can I call you princess?” He says, lips pressing against your neck.

“Of course,” you say, “call me something else too,” you grind back against him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Come inside,” you say, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray as Tom kisses down the back of your neck.

He pulls you back in, closing the balcony door. You drop your lighter and cigarettes on the bedside table.

His hands are quick to tug your shirt over your head, planting kisses down your chest, smirking at the marks he left earlier.

“Gonna be a good slut for me and suck my cock?” He asks, hand cupping your pussy.

“Please,” you groan as his palm gently rubs against your clothed clit.

He guides you to your knees, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other tugs off his shirt.

His hands pull your hair out of your face as you push down his underwear, hand wrapping around his cock.

“Go ahead, be a good slutty princess for me,” he says, not pushing your head down but just watching as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You gently lick up and down his cock, before starting to bob your head, his hips start to move against you and you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not but you moan when you choke around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

“Look so pretty down on your knees for me, gonna make me come like a good girl?”

You moan again, feeling him twitch in your mouth as you still, letting his hips do all the work.

“Such a good slut for me, fuck, gonna come in your mouth princess,” he groans, hips stilling with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He comes with a groan of your name followed by princess, and you couldn’t help but smile as he helped you up. You fucking loved that nickname.

“Your turn,” he grins as you pull your panties down and off your legs, “do ya, do you still have mine from- from,” you try to finish your question but he’s pushing you down on the bed, one hand wrapping around your wrists and pinned them to the bed, the other running up and down your side.

“God princess I used those to jerk off so many times, had to wash them eventually, still kinda smell like you, I’ll need a new pair when I leave this week.”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you giggle as he leaves butterfly kisses against your cheek.

“What are you, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“Kissing you, duh,” he says, before his lips meet your hot skin.

“Go on, eat me out baby, please,” you whine, hips moving to meet his own.

“I’m going princess, relax for me okay?” he asks, hand leaving your wrists, which you keep above your head.

He makes his way down your body, kissing as his hands spread your legs wide, he situates himself between them, kissing along your thighs as his fingers slip into your pussy.

“Fuck Tom,” you groan. He quickly brings his lips to your entrance, licking and kissing and just making you feel everything. He brings you to orgasm with his lips wrapped around your clit and three fingers pressing against your sweet spot.

“Taste so good princess,” he says, fingers still moving slowly inside of you as he makes his way up to your face, kissing up. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, arms wrapping around his neck.

***

“I would love to shower with you but my shower is lucky to fit one person, the mere idea of two people in this shower will break it,” you laugh as Tom brushes his teeth.

“Fine, guess I’ll just haveta watch you shower.”

“Okay perv,” you joke as you wait for the water to warm up.

He’s wearing the t-shirt you gave him earlier, he’s small enough that it fits well, the only part that stretches is the sleeves, his biceps bigger than your own.

Once you showered you dried your hair, about to walk back to your room with the towel wrapped around you.

“You don’t wanna watch me shower?”

“No you weirdo,” you laugh and you hear him laugh in return, stepping into the shower.

You sit on your bed, drying your hair as best you can. You tried to think about how this all came to be. When all you wanted was to hook up with someone during your trip to London. You never, ever would have expected this, not in a million years.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks from your door and you almost jump off your bed, heart racing.

“Shit, how long’ve you been standing there?” “Just got outta the shower, not as fun as if we were in there together, gonna haveta try that at my hotel.”

“I’d like that,” you say, “come here, help me put lotion on my tattoos.”

“What?”

“Lotion. Gotta moisturize them so they still look good in 50 years.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t.”

“Actually,” he starts, pulling you up to stand with him.

“What?” you laugh as he sits down in your place, tugging your towel off and sitting you down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

“What?! Where?” you ask, turning your head to look for a tattoo somewhere that for some reason you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I wanna see it!”

“Here,” he says, his leg moving to rest on top of yours as he points to the bottom of his foot.

“You- you got a, what is that, is that a spider?! On the bottom of your foot?” You’re trying your best not to laugh.

“Told ya you’d laugh, yes, I’ve got a spider, had to get it done over twice, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Why would you, why,” you start before giggling.

“Hush and let me lotion you up,” he says, dropping his leg.

“Why the bottom of your foot? That’s like such a bad place for a tattoo, it’ll never last!”

“Well that’s kinda why, and because I’m an actor. Don’t want tattoos to get in the way of my work.”

“What- other actors have tattoos. But you’re very brave for getting the bottom of your foot tattooed, that must be painful.”

“You’d never get the bottom of your foot tattooed?”

“Fuck no, you kidding? No thank you, that’s a no zone for me.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his hands rub the lotion into the skin of your upper back and arms, taking his time to catch every part of each of your tattoos.

“Making me sleepy,” you say as his hands move to massage your shoulders. “Then let’s sleep,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Gotta get dressed,” you mumble.

“Meh, it’s hot in here, we can sleep naked.”

“How’re we gonna fit here again?”

“Here,” Tom says, pushing your comforter and sheets down, moving the two of you so he’s laying on his back and you’re on your side, practically on top of him.

“This is comfortable for you?” you ask, hand resting on his chest.

“Mhm, you good?”

“Very comfy,” you say, yawning as his hand runs up and down your arm.

“Goodnight princess.”

“Night baby,” you say as sleep overtakes you.

***

“So, you do this a lot?” He asks as you curl up at his side on the bench in Central Park.

“Only when I’ve got free time and it’s nice out, it’s the perfect day for it,” you say, opening your sketchpad to a new page.

“And you just find someone to draw?”

“Normally I draw some of the people who live here, sometimes people sitting on benches around us, like to people watch, ever done it?”

“I’m sorry, people watch?”

“Yeah, sit somewhere and just observe people in their natural habitat, it’s fascinating.”

“Whatever you say,” he laughs, arm around your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it, promise.” “I don’t doubt that,” he nods as you look around.

There’s a man who was sleeping peacefully on the bench across from you and you glance over his features, your pencil starting to sketch on the page.

“Him?”

“Yep, I think I’ve sketched him before, he’s normally running around everywhere, asking people for hugs, so I only got a quick sketch of his face, but this’ll be perfect,” you say, drawing out the bench.

You can feel Tom’s eyes on your sketchbook as you draw and if it were anyone else you’d be uncomfortable, not wanting them to see anything but a final product. But with him it was different. You were okay with showing him bits and pieces of your life you kept hidden.

“If you were to get tattooed by anyone, who would you want to tattoo you?”

“Probably Ryan Ashley.” “Who’s that?”

“Famous tattoo artist, she’s the first female winner of Ink Master, sorta paving the way for female artists in the mainstream. She does these amazing realistic jewelry pieces, always sort of wanted a chest piece, I’ve been saving it on the very rare chance that she’d ever tattoo me,” you ramble as you start to sketch the outline of the man’s body.

“You wouldn’t want to get tattooed by me?” “Are you telling me you’ve tattooed someone before?” You feel him nod against your head and you gasp, “Tom, you’re just full of surprises huh?”

“Yep, tattooed a little spiderman spider on someone’s leg, he let’s celebrities tattoo him all the time.”

“Fucking jealous you’ve gotten the chance to tattoo someone before I have.”

“I can guarantee you’d be a million times better than me.”

“Hope so, I’ve put all my time and effort into working at Tattoo Dice, I hope it pays off, hope that I put art on people’s skin that they appreciate.”

“I believe in you,” he says, eyes watching as people walk past, feeling comforted by the fact that nobody knows he’s here, none of his fans or paparazzi will be looking for him. He can spend time with you in public without worrying about being stopped every few feet for an autograph or a photo.

Someone looked at the both of you as they walked past, eyes pausing on Tom, who was just wearing sunglasses.

“to hide my unruly brow,” he explained when he put them on this morning.

“Is that like your disguise?” you asked him.

“Course, now nobody can tell it’s me.”

“Sure baby,” you shrugged, blushing a little when his hand slipped down to hold your own as you left your apartment.

You felt him tense and you looked up, “What’s wrong?”

The person kept walking. “Nothing, was scared they noticed who I was,” he whispers as you relax back against him, working more on the arms of the man on the bench.

“But you’ve got your sunglasses on, you’re Clark Kent,” you say.

“Wrong universe,” Tom smirks.

“You know what I mean,” you poke his side before concentrating back on the sketch.

It had to be at least an hour when you were satisfied with how it looked, sitting up to brush away some eraser shavings.

“How’s it look?” You ask, looking up at Tom.

“Pretty damn good,” he says, grinning back at you.

The man on the bench wakes up with a start, grumbling to himself. You quickly rip the page off your sketchbook and get up.

“Want me to-,”

“I’m fine,” you tell Tom before moving the few feet to the man’s bench.

“Whaddya want?” He asks, voice rough.

“I uh, I’m an artist. Draw people, and well, here,” you say, awkwardly holding out the sketch of the man to him.

“What the- is this me? This is me! Wow,” the man says and your brows furrow with worry when his eyes start to tear up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before drawing you, just looked so peaceful sleeping there and- oh!” You smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“This is, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll keep it forever, and I mean that,” he says as he let’s you go.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, have a good day,” you smile as he picks up his backpack and shopping cart full of belongings.

“You too dear,” he smiles, wiping a tear from his eyes before walking away, holding the sketch tight to his chest.

You turn back to Tom, sure your face is lit up with a smile.

“You’ve done it yet again princess.”

“Huh?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“You’re gonna change lives with that art of yours.”

“Sucha dork,” you giggle.

“Cm’ere, miss yer kiss,” he says, kissing you gently as his fingers intertwined with your own.

***

“Gonna miss you,” you mumble, face tucked into his shoulder as he hugs you.

“Already miss you.”

“Dork,” you giggle.

You were standing outside your apartment waiting for Tom’s taxi to take him to the airport.

“I wanna see the first tattoo you do okay?”

“Obviously, I’ll see if Adrien can video it for me.”

The taxi pulls up and Tom pulls you tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, neither did you.

“Okay, go before they charge you extra for making them wait.”

“Alright,” He says, kissing you, it wasn’t a soft sweet kiss, or a desperate I want you kiss. But a this is the last time I’ll see you for a little bit and I’ll miss you kiss. And honestly? You think you loved those kisses the most. You pulled away first.

“Get outta here Holland,” you say and he laughs, tossing his suitcase into the backseat with him. As the taxi drives away his hand presses against the window and he mouths “I’ll miss you.”

____________________________________

Tag list (tagged people who asked for a part two/asked to be tagged): @hcllander @spideyyeet @particularspider @wooowsworld @ruefulposts @screeching-student-unknown @jennypizzaholland @april-14-blog @asphalt-cocktail @rageyoudamnednerd @superherosthings

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader oneshot #tom holland x reader one shot

1K notes · View notes

satinwulf · 5 years ago

Photo

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ SANSA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ AHN HEEYEON ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-SIX ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWENTY-SIX YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ ASSOCIATE ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ RESERVED ] && [ CIRCUMSPECT ] of late, when they used to be so [ WHIMSICAL ] && [ SANGUINE ]. during the daylight hours, [ SANSA ] can be found working as a [ FASHION DESIGNER & BOUTIQUE OWNER ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ THE ARCHER BY TAYLOR SWIFT ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( mowgli. twenty-four. cst. she/hers. )

STATISTICS.

full name: sansa elethea stark.

moniker / nickname: princess, sans.

gender && pronouns: cisfemale, she / hers.

dob && age: december 23, 1994. 26.

zodiac sign: capricorn.

ethnicity: korean.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

romantic orientation: biromantic.

mafia affiliation: associate to the stark family via familial ties - sansa does NOT partake in anything further than simply being known as a stark.

occupational history: former socialite turned fashion designer. current owner of the satin wolf, an upscale boutique featuring her designs.

financial status: sansa comes from wealth, but has also amassed her own funds through her business - albeit, it is easy to do so when you don’t have to pay rent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: ahn heeyeon, ‘hani’.

height: five feet, eight inches.

physical build: tall and slim; sansa is not very toned nor muscled, her body is very much so smooth lines and long limbs.

eye colour and shape: brown, almond.

hair colour and style: currently strawberry blonde, formerly many different colors, as sansa expressed herself through having it dyed previously. it is often worn straight and down when she isn’t working, and pulled into a messy bun when she is!

usual expression: stoic.

accent and speech style: sansa has a very soft voice, very saccharine and sweet by its very nature. she has no blatant accent, and speaks often in run on sentences.

distinguishing marks / characteristics: any scars, tattoos, piercings.

clothing style: very street chic but also dependent on the occasion - she dresses for the life she wants to have and live.

jewellery and accessories: earrings, necklaces, hats, scarves - any and everything is on the table when it comes to accessorizing the perfect outfit. sansa never considers herself fully dressed without her apple watch, earrings, and a silver wolf’s head locket necklace.

FAMILY:

father: eddard stark.

mother: catelyn stark, nee tully.

siblings, if any: robb, arya, bran, rickon.

extended relations: hoster & minisa tully, edmure tully, brandon stark, lyanna stark, benjen stark.

significant other(s): none, currently. formerly a fiance.

children: none.

household pet(s): a female merle great dane named boleyn, “bo” for short.

FAVOURITES.

colour: blue.

weather: a sunny, but cool fall day.

food item: red velvet cupcakes.

beverage: peach lemonade.

time of day: mid - evening.

television genre: drama.

PERSONALITY.

hobbies: painting, baking, reading - and occasionally writing.

pet peeves: sansa loathes loud chewers, people who refuse to put effort into their outward appearance, and people who think ketchup and ranch go on everything - or anything at all.

phobias: spiders, rats, snakes.

allergies: penicillin.

mbti type: enfj, the protagonist.

enneagram type: 4w3, the enthusiast.

positive traits: whimsical, sanguine, clever.

negative traits: reserved, circumspect, fretful.

morning routine: up by seven, morning walk with her dog, shower, breakfast, begin work by nine, sharp.

beauty routine: multi - stepped, always beginning with primers and concealers. sansa is a bit of a makeup enthusiast; even if she’s just at home working, she prefers to have some level of it on, as she feels it’s yet another creative and artistic outlet . . . even if it is just for herself.

sleeping habits: sansa has always been a heavy, deep sleeper, even as a child. she can fall asleep in the blink of an eye, and be out for hours without even a hint of discomfort. she used to be the person who was up all night, and tended to sleep all day - now she’s asleep by 8:30pm most nights and up by 7:00am.

living space && home: a high rise loft apartment, kept impeccably clean and decorated in a modern contemporary style, with many hues of gray and light pastels.

all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me together again, ‘cause all of my enemies started out friends.

sansa attended king’s way college and graduated with a bachelor’s degree of fine arts, having majored in fashion design. her graduation present was the satin wolf, a boutique of her own to showcase her designs. it is located in neutral territory, and operated by staff hand selected by sansa herself.

the death of hoster tully was a sad affair for her, and yet, sansa’s grief was also met with a sense of relief. that with her grandfather no longer pulling strings, the pressure of being brought into a life she did not want might wain.

it is her intent to never become involved further than she is currently with any of the syndicates, even her own family’s.

dancing under lights since she was seventeen. her brain’s flooded with ketamine, high from every party, low from self - esteem; it’s selfish but she never sleep. honestly, she needs a little sympathy.

the socialite daughter, beautiful and charming, always interested in the next party - the next event. sansa had a penchant for attention, late nights spent out drinking and dancing even when she less than legal; it made her feel happy, feel free. it was a way to forget that things could be dark and grim - to forget that her parents, her siblings, nearly everyone she knew was involved in a lifestyle that made her stomach curl. so she danced and partied, smiled wide for pictures, found a boyfriend that enjoyed the same things she did - one who wasn’t interested in what her family’s name could do for him . . . or so she thought. when he asked her to marry him, she cried tears of joy, and things were perfect. just like they always were for sansa.

until one night a few months ago, when she and her fiance were leaving a club - drunk and stumbling, clinging to his arm with practiced ease . . . when two rough hands that weren’t his pulled her away. into a darkened alley, where accomplices met and held her at knife-point. they wanted to know about her father. her uncles. her mother, aunts, grandfather. stark plans, stark anything - gravely voices that wondered how many pretty pennies they could get if they just took her off the streets now. held her until they paid, and maybe they’d just kill her anyways. the rough brick of the building at her back digs into unmarred skin, leaving it scratched and red - prick of a blade just centimetres away from the flesh of her neck, threatening to cut it open and leave her bloody.

she can’t figure out where he is, the man who’s supposed to love her - seemingly vanished into thin air the minute things had turned sour. sansa is convinced of the worst, mascara tears trailing down her cheeks, because this must be it. the end of it all.

reprieve is the sight of one man, then two, crumpling to the ground. a familiar face appearing in the dimly lit alley as the knife at her throat clatters to the ground and her freedom is given. alive but shaken, sansa hasn’t been the same since.

i used to be a darling starlet like a centerpiece. had the whole world wrapped around my ring. i flew too closely to the sun that’s setting in the east, and now i’m melting from my wings.

returning to a normal life post incident - post trauma - has been easier said than done. now reclusive in nature, stowing herself away for days in her high rise loft apartment, sightings of the eldest stark daughter are said to be few and far between. she no longer frequents her own boutique, working instead from home and through various intermediates to ensure everything is well controlled; sansa only appears when it’s absolutely necessary, when business requires a gentle, steady hand and cannot be managed from afar.

custom designs are still available, but often very hard to come by. sansa is incredibly selective with who she’ll meet in person with, and thus, only those who can guarantee her trust have been able to get them.

sansa does, however, outfit most of the stark syndicate in gear that is both fashionable and functional. including safety measures & fabric a little more durable than most. this is generally the extent of what she’s willing to do for the syndicate, the idea of being involved in violence is absolutely terrifying to her, especially after everything she went through without even being more than a child of known members.

she still is unaware of her ex-fiance’s involvement in the attempted abduction - if he was working along with the men, or if he was just cowardly enough, uncaring enough to have let her be pulled from his arms. she hasn’t spoken to him much, outside of ending their relationship as a whole, the truth isn’t worth the extra pain it may cause, or so she’s convinced herself for now.

wanted connections !! i may send some of these into the main after a bit if they aren’t filled just because i’m #needy.

judas . . . this would be sansa’s ex - fiance! i did write it off a tweaked and modernized version of her relationship with joffrey but it definitely doesn’t have to be him. their relationship was seemingly picture perfect - and likely too good to be true. they were frequent party and club attendees together, and truly, was based off of the fact that being together was akin to the high that came with endless drinks and fun. ideally, he would have just been using sansa to hopefully siphon information or even to gain an in to the stark family - the possibilities are endless and i’m ?? here for them? sansa romanticized the fuck out of him and their relationship, ignoring any and all warning signs until things went bad the night of the after club incident. essentially she’s ghosted him, aside from mailing back his ring and a letter telling him it was, in very few words, over. the finer details are very much so up for discussion and interpretation so y’know, run wild.

white horse . . . whomever saved sansa from the alley - no gender requirements because we love equal opportunity ass kickers in this house. they had at the very least an acquaintanceship with sansa in the past and after their act of heroism, sansa’s sort of attached herself to them in a very idealized way? not necessarily romantically but very clingy, she doesn’t want to be a burden but also it’s very hard for her to not instinctively shift into thinking of them as her protector and she just needs and wants to feel safe . . . all of the time. taken by dacey mormont.

pink pony club . . . sansa’s #squad. their relationship(s) may be slightly strained from sansa shifting into recluse mode, but ultimately they would be the people she spent the most time with previously. dancing, studying, coffee dates, all of the close friend things. bonus points for friendships from childhood to now, because we all need the montage of childhood sleepovers to sansa showing up at their house at 6:00 in the morning because she can’t sleep and she brought coffee, also do they have time to talk about how she can’t stop shaking and she just needs a hug.

also if you’ve made it this far, ‘sup i’m mowgli and i told myself i wasn’t allowed to join the discord until i finished my intro because i have the attention span of a goldfish and it still took me all day ?? anyways, i’m gonna be sneaking myself on in there soon but y’all can feel free to also just add me @ mohglee#0602 ty ty <3

#vixere:intro #vixere:task #c : / / biography .#c : / / completed task .

10 notes · View notes

sakura-blossom28 · 5 years ago

Text

Heartbroken

Finished this wayyy sooner than I ever thought I would. Finally some new characters and not as sappy. Just projecting what I hope happens in the future. And of course finally some Gaara. Worried he’ll seem out of character too. Let me know what you think! Part 1 /

Sakura was in a good place. Spring was finally here! The dead of winter was over, and she was leaving painful memories behind. She was finally ready to start again. The cold months turned into bright sunny days that thawed out the growing flowers, reminding Sakura of her gown growth. Her days passed without much going on, but some days were filled with laughter because of Naruto and Hinata. The days that she spent with them were her favorite. They would spend nights together in Naurto’s tiny apartment watching as many movies as they could, baking a million treats, and just talking to help Sakura heal.

Hinata knew how important time away from boys was for Sakura, so she made sure to give her much needed girl time. They went shopping, stayed up some nights just talking about everything and nothing, and just spent needed time together. Hinata was a true friend to Sakura. Anything that Sakura needed, Naruto and Hinata were there for her. Any time she felt the need to talk after a hard day or wanted to share any good news, those two were there for her.

Between the times that both Naruto and Hinata were busy, which was pretty regularly since Sakura had long days in the surgery center, she had to entertain herself. This was the hard part, but Sakura started to enjoy her time alone. She found that there was a lot to learn about herself. Baking was one of her favorite things to do. Naruto and Hinata loved it when she baked the day before they were supposed to hang out. At the bottom of her list was exercising. Working out by herself just wasn’t as fun. She was making some progress, her energy was way up, but she didn’t look any different. Maybe she should take a class…

XxX

One night Hinata and Sakura were hanging out at Naruto’s apartment. It was just like any other night when there was a knock on the door.

“Oh good, they’re finally here!” Naruto exclaimed as he jumped off the couch and Hinata followed. Sakura thought that it was just going to be the 3 of them as usual. She wasn’t particularly dressed nicely to meet new people. Just her usual t-shirt and work out pants, even though she didn’t work out that day.

Her color had been better since the breakup and she was starting to feel okay. No word from Sasuke in the months, but she didn’t expect him to. She could finally think about him and not miss him like she used to. Dating was still off the table for her, she just didn’t have the desire to open herself up to someone new. Sakura was still trying to find out more about herself. She needed to think more about what she really wanted from a relationship. Plus the dating scene was just so exhausting. She and Hinata had spent hours and hours on dating apps with no luck whatsoever. Mostly it was just fun seeing what guys would post thinking it would help them get a date.

At the door, there was a big commotion mixed with different voices that Sakura had never heard. She noticed a male and female voice that she didn’t recognize. As they walked into the living room where Sakura was she saw who Naruto and Hinata invited in.

A tall man with brown hair in a ponytail walked in with a woman with blonde hair, they both looked happy and friendly as they chatted with Naruto and Hinata.

Oh good, they look like they’re dating, was the first thought that popped into Sakura’s mind. Even though Naruto knew how she felt about dating at this point, it still didn’t stop him from trying to set her up with some of his friends. Thankfully Hinata was there to steer him in the right direction. A few times Naruto invited other friends over while Sakura and Hinata were spending time together. Only one guy that Naruto brought around was stuck in her mind, and not for a good reason. Lee was kind and sweet, but so intense. It reminded Sakura that she was so not ready to be dating just yet.

“Sakura! Sakura! This is my good friend Shikamaru! And his girlfriend Temari! They just got back from vacation!” Naruto said as they all settled on the couches.

They exchanged their pleasantries and Shikamaru and Temari went into their story about their trip. He seemed very laid back and she was full of energy, polar opposites, but they looked happy and comfortable with each other. At one point Sakura thought this is how people must think about her and Sasuke, but she was so wrong. Shaking her head slightly she focused back onto their words.

The evening was enjoyable, better than she would have thought if she was told she would spend her night being the fifth wheel. Temari seemed like the kind of person that Sakura could be friends with. She was easy going but still fun and feisty.

“Hey, Sakura, I’m going to visit Temari at her job tomorrow and then hang out. Want to join us for a little girl’s night?” Hinata asked as the conversation was dying down.

“Sure! I don’t have any plans tomorrow," Sakura wouldn’t turn down a girl’s night for anything.

“Cool! Do you know the tattoo shop around the corner?” Temari said as she moved over to the couch that Sakura and Hinata were sitting on.

“Oh yeah! Isn’t that where we went to get your ears pierced a few weeks ago?” Sakura asked. “Are you a tattoo artist there?”

“Yeah! My brother was probably the guy who did the piercing! We run the shop with a few other people but we’re mostly in charge,” Temari said with a proud grin.

Sakura couldn’t really remember because she made it a rule to not look at any guy who was remotely close to her age. She had the bad habit of developing little crushes on any guy who makes eye contact with her. To focus on herself Sakura could not afford to get attached to anyone while she was getting over Sasuke. That guy Lee really helped with keeping her focus on herself.

“Okay so we’ll meet up at 7, my other brother owes me a favor so he’s closing the shop for me,” Temari said smugly.

“Ugh if you guys are having a girls night I’m gonna take advantage of a quiet apartment,” Shikamaru said from under his arm as he stretched out on the other couch since Temari moved.

“Oh, you would just love that!” Temari quickly turned on her boyfriend, “Now I’m gonna get drunk and you’ll have to deal with me.” Shikamaru went stiff, but then quickly relaxed.

“Fine do what you want,” he said with a smile and Temari laughed too. Sakura felt a twinge of jealousy at how easy their relationship is. Had she ever been like that with Sasuke? With both of them looking happy? Before her thoughts could upset her and send her spiraling, Sakura felt Hinata gently grab her hand without breaking her conversation with Naruto. Sakura gave her a small squeeze back as a silent thank you.

Their plans were set for the next day, meeting up, grabbing some food, and maybe some light shopping. Sakura could handle that.

XxX

The tattoo parlor was the same as Sakura remembered. Artwork all over the wall from past clients and well sat in chairs showing how much business the shop did. The theme was mostly purple and black, but the room was still light and open. There were chairs and tables that people could get their tattoos and where Hinata got her piercing, while towards the back was an office and rooms for more private tattoos.

Temari was running back and forth from the front desk and the back office. She seemed to be yelling at someone.

"Kankuro I swear if we miss one phone call because of you I'll beat you!" Temari screamed into the office. They could only hear a low grumbling as a response.

Temari finally turned towards them and smiled brightly which seemed to be her style.

"Hey guys! Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm just trying to make closing as easy as possible for them." She then continued to organize the large counter that was past the seating area. Hinata went over to help Temari while Sakura wandered around the room looking at the artwork.

Sakura had always admired tattoos and their artist. Secretly she always wanted a tattoo but couldn't set her heart on anything. Doodling was the best she could do, and it amazed her that all this work could be done on flesh, the hardest canvas to work on in her mind. She found different designs, people and flowers mostly up on the wall.

What really caught her eye was a few sketches that were in a notebook sitting on a low counter. No color, just all pencil work. There were people and animals, but mostly small bites of different things like eyes and hands that this person seemed to practice a lot. It was mesmerizing to see how lifelike everything was. Sakura was so caught up in the book that she didn't notice the front door of the shop open.

The person immediately walked towards Sakura without her knowing. They were about to grab the book right out of her hand, but paused at seeing how content she was looking at the pictures. She had a slight smile on her face as she traced the lines of a pair of eyes filled with sadness. Curious, the person quietly moved around her towards the end of the counter to face away from her.

"Gaara there you are! Okay everything is done for you, you just need to turn all the lights off when you're done. My appointment book is here in case someone comes in, but otherwise you should be fine!" At the sound of Temari's voice Sakura broke out of her trance and walked over towards them.

Sakura noticed someone at the end of the counter but his back was turned towards her. He had dark red hair, seemed tall but he was leaning on the counter and clearly went to the gym. Ugh the gym, she thought to herself. This must be Temari's other brother that she mentioned yesterday.

Gaara didn't seem to notice their presence because he never turned around to look at them. Temari didn't seem to mind that he wasn't answering, it must be a sibling thing. Sakura took one last look around the tattoo shop as they were walking out. Right at the door was a huge cork board filled with different flyers and business cards. A bright pink flyer caught Sakura's eye.

Big bold letters said kickboxing right at the top followed more information. All different levels were offered, even just a women's class. This was perfect! The less males to stare at the better. She took the small flyer off the board and folded it up and stuck it into her purse. If Sakura had looked up, she would have seen the look of shock that was all over Gaara's face.

XxX

Sakura quietly made her way to the back seat of Hinata's car, not noticing the excited faces of the other two girls. She buckled herself in before she even saw their faces which seemed to be bursting at the seams with how they were smiling. She gave a nervous chuckle.

"Why are you guys smiling like that? You both look crazy," Sakura said, eying them nervously.

"My brother was so checking you out! He never does stuff like that! You were looking at his sketchbook and he never lets anyone touch it! I swear he was about to rip it out of your hands but he stopped. He wouldn't take his eyes off of you until you turned around! He's never shy, it's so crazy!" Temari practically screamed.

"I totally saw it Sakura," Hinata said with a sly smile on her face. Oh she was spending way too much time with Naruto.

"Well you're both crazy and he definitely wasn't, but hey I saw this flyer inside for kick-boxing! We should really try it out!" Sakura said trying to change the subject. She reached into her purse and handed the slip to Temari.

Looking it over Temari recognized the gym name immediately. She smiled slyly to herself. Playing matchmaker was Temari's favorite thing to do and it was high time her brother landed someone. He tried not to show it, but he was extremely kind and considerate to his friends and family. Always going out of his way to do something nice without anyone knowing it was him. And poor Sakura was heartbroken. Temari could see it clear as day. Sakura was someone who could appreciate Gaara for his good days and bad. Communication would be their biggest struggle, but having heard her whole story from Hinata, Temari was sure Sakura was on the upswing.

"Oh awesome! I know the owner of this gym! It's pretty close to my apartment. I can see if they have room for 3 more tomorrow if you're free!" Temari said, knowing exactly who she was going to text.

The gym was conveniently located below Gaara's apartment. More importantly, Gaara owned the gym. He would most likely be teaching the class too. Sakura was making this too easy for Temari. She had to act fast before someone snatched Sakura up.

"Really? That's almost too good to be true! I really appreciate it, Temari!" Sakura gave her a genuine smile of pure happiness, the first that Temari had seen. Her heart went out to the poor girl. She couldn't imagine what it's like to be her, giving everything she's got just to have the person she loves not feel the same way. Temari had met Sasuke once or twice in passing while his band was hanging out with Shikamaru's. She could see the attraction, not only was he good looking, he gave off a cool and calm vibe without seeming like a jerk. Gaara was similar in a way, but he was a bit more direct than Sasuke seemed. Hopefully he doesn't scare poor Sakura off.

Temari: Got room for 3 more for your beginner kick-boxing class tomorrow morning?

Gaara: You finally convinced Shikamaru and Kankuro to join you? I can barely get him out of bed most mornings.

Temari: NO! I actually have my own friends. Hinata and Sakura that you so rudely ignored want to come.

Temari: Actually it was Sakura, very cute and very SINGLE, girl who found your flyer and wanted to go to a class!

Gaara: ……

Gaara: Does she know I'm the one teaching the class?

Temari: Haven't told her yet. Figured it would be a good surprise! I'm setting up the shot, you need to take it brother. Plus she didn't get a good look at you since you IGNORED us!!

Gaara: ….. Fine. You 3 can come, but don’t run it for the other people. You know how you get. This is the last time I’m doing something nice for you.

Temari: You know that’s not true! Love you little bro!!

Temari turned back to Sakura. She actually looked happy. Maybe she was looking to try something new. Temari was glad to help out her new friend. Especially if it meant getting her brother to loosen up for once. Maybe they could both help each other to open up more. Sakura seems to be a giving person, but never got the same energy back. Temari knew Gaara could be up for the challenge, if Sakura could accept him for who he is inside and out.

“Okay we’re all set for tomorrow morning ladies! I hope you’re ready to get your butts kicked!” Temari said happily.

Maybe kick-boxing wasn’t such a good choice...

Part 3

#Sakura Haruno #Sasuke Uchiha #naruto #Naruto Uzumaki #garra #Sabaku No Gaara #temari #shikamara nara #kankuro #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction #gaasaku #Hinata Hyuga

20 notes · View notes

laughing-with-god · 6 years ago

Text

Yandere BTS as fanboys

Jin- You’re his idol. He strives to be like you. That outfit you were wearing at the airport last week? He bought a matching one. You mentioned your favorite food on a mukbang V-live? He mastered cooking it. That one funny joke you said on that variety show? He repeats it all the time to his friends because it’s just so funny. If someone said that Jin was the male version of you, he’d be so touched to the point of tearing up. You were perfection in human form. Hate to say this, but if anyone dared to say that another girl idol was prettier or more talented than you, he’d definitely bash.

Prone to- Matching selcas and outfits, being a solo stan, going broke to see you in person via concerts and meets, unsubconsciously altering his appearance to fit your ideal type, bashing your ‘competition’

“Irene has no personality whatsoever and looks like an ajumma. You dare compare her to Y/n?!”

Yoongi- Analyzes your lyrics and uses them as inspiration for his own. Quiet fan, says he doesn’t need people to know that he’s a fan of an idol but really he wants to keep you to himself. Listens to your music at least 10 times a day. Helps him cope day to day and will switch to the acoustic versions when he’s trying to fall asleep. He could pick out your voice from a sea of others. He worships it. Doesn’t pay attention to idol culture, but if it involves you he’ll look out. Has a separate account to follow your social media. Has high hopes of one day working with you and creating a masterpiece together. He won’t get mad if someone disses your looks or personality (he kinda prefers it that people don’t find you as desireable as he does so he doesn’t have ‘competition’) but if someone ever came for you music....god help them.

Prone to- Quiet and solo Stan, has you as his background, skips through your members’ voices to get to yours alone, genuinely believes that you two will end up together, doesn’t consider himself a fan rather an appreciator of your music, pushes himself as a producer to one day work with you

“Y/n is so much more than an idol. She’s an artist. She’s so much bigger than Kpop, it’s offensive that she gets compared to the likes of Twice or Gfriend....”

Namjoon- Protective Stan. Dating scandals? He’s the type to get into a rant showing EXACT ANGLES OF YOUR EYELINE to prove that you weren’t lovingly gazing at the other idol. Controversy? The type to send letters to your company, begging them to sue dispatch and other sites for trying to tarnish your name. The type to try to search for deeper meanings with music videos and lyrics in quest for a story or conspiracy. Will copy your pictures for his own social media and have the caption of some deep quote you once said. Considers himself too mature for fan wars but his three paged rants in YouTube/Instagram/tumblr comment sections will tell you otherwise. Dresses like you and even tries to incorporate some of your mannerisms and sayings into his day to day behavior.

Prone to- Copying your social media presence, sending your company LOTS of letters, getting way too heated with other fans who just don’t ‘get’ you like he does, deadass wants to get a tattoo of a quote from you on him.

“Y/n is just a very complex person. I don’t expect you to understand what she meant by *blank* but trust me it wasn’t that. She’s just very philosophical and wise. Your two brain cells wouldn’t understand.”

Hoseok- LOUD stan. Has a YouTube channel for recreating your choreo. Has another YouTube channel for covering your songs. Has another channel for reaction videos of videos concerning you. Posters on his wall, saved selcas in his gallery, all your songs on shuffle and notifications for your social media are on so he won’t miss a thing. Has a proud tally for all the concerts he’s attended. Will happily roast someone online for the sake of fan wars. Will support your group/members as much as he can but at the end of the day you are his ride or die. Merch King. One of the most well known fans, one day your groups’ twitter account retweeted him and he SCREAMED SO LOUD despite being in public.

Prone to- Online stalking, skipping work or school if it interferes with going to your concerts or catching a V-live, going off on a hater and using his platform to protect your image

“Lmao imagine thinking that Y/n gives any types of shit about a weirdo weeabo like you?Talk all the shit you want from behind your crusty keyboard, she’s literally so unbothered💅🏼” *tweet from his fan account bc I picture him being THAT bitch*

Jimin- soft stan. Has a tumblr, wattpad and archive of our own account bc he LIVES for anything that can make him feel like he’s in a love story with you. Fluff, angst, fantasy ect. He’s always seen with his head buried in his phone screen and eyes furiously scanning the latest fic to peak his interest. Has a portable charger bc he cannot risk his phone dying whilst in the climax of a good plot. Not too involved with idol politics but he is very protective of you. Will def notice if you look a tad thinner or tired and type a comment telling you to eat more and rest well. Prob tell your company to lay off if I’m being honest. Supports your group 110% and doesn’t engage in fan wars bc he knows that you wouldn’t approve. The type to tell other frenzied fans online, “what would Y/n think?” Your his ideal type and he strives to be yours, dyes his hair and gets contacts to fit with your type.

Prone to- Obsessing over your well-being, spending too many hours a day reading fics about you (considers making his own), false sense of reality

“I know that Y/n doesn’t deserve this hate but pls don’t go bashing on haters on her behalf. Honestly it makes the fan base look bad and Y/n wouldn’t be proud. Let’s just focus on showing her love to drown out the negative. 💗”

Taehyung- You’re his goddess. Tries to mimic you in every way. Your hair color, your clothes, your accessories, eye colors and even the way you walk or talk. You’re just such an icon to him and so refreshing, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Every idol is just so boring compared to you. You magnetize him. In his free time he tries to draw you and has honestly gotten so good at it. Another one to try to have a social media theme similar to yours. Got a pet and named it after you. Mimics your style and changes it up whenever you do. Will travel to the places you do, ESP if it’s for a fashion show. Even copies your skincare routine and diet. Follows your accounts but loves your from afar, doesn’t participate in petty fan behavior bc his ego is too big to ever settle for a ‘fan’ title.

Prone to- online stalking and copying, actual stalking, huge ego and warped sense of reality

“Y/n is going to be in Paris next week so I gotta book my flight now. Do you think she’s gonna be at the Gucci or Dior show? I would say Gucci but she never fails to surprise me...”

Jungkook- bby stan. You took his breath away when he first saw your music video. IU who? He watches EVERYTHING with you in it, streams all your music, follows all your accounts and buys all the merch. He strives to be your ideal type. He covers all your music but posts them online without showing his face bc he’s too shy. He used to be a fan war warrior but when he had a lil accident (cough smashing his laptop into a wall when the hater continued to call you a whore cough) he now tries his best not to participate and instead just focus on you alone. He would never admit it, but he’s the type to look up your zodiac sign and his sign to read about how compatible you two are. Doesn’t want to be so obvious as to wear matching outfits as you, but does get small things like the same phone case or necklace as you have. Just to feel closer to you. Would totally go to a fan meet if he knew he wouldn’t have a panic attack being face to face with his soulmate.

Prone to- getting a bit too heated when defending you, ignoring his actual responsibilities to obsess over you, buying small things to feel closer to you, suppressing aspects of his persona that he thinks you wouldn’t like

“Y/n said she liked guys who are laidback. Ugh...am I too practical for her? Maybe I should learn how to go with the flow a bit more. The horoscope did say she was going to have a problem with my Virgo tendencies....”

#bts #bangtan boys #bts reactions #bts yandere #yandere bts #kpop #jeon jungkook #park jimin #jungkook #yandere jungkook #bts hoseok #namjoon #bts seokjin #jin #yandere jimin #kim taehyung #taehyung #yandere #yandere kpop

1K notes · View notes

mendesmelancholy · 6 years ago

Text

Marks - Chapter 1

A Shawn Mendes Series

Chapter 2 Synopsis: A series where Shawn meets a fan in a tattoo parlour and gets a matching tattoo with her which sparks an unexpected dynamic between two people, learning how to love regardless of their mental illnesses. Warnings: mentions of past self harm Word Count: 4k Author’s Note: I’m actually so unbelievably excited to share this series with you. A massive thank you goes to @shawnscheekscar who helped me figure out this idea and let me talk about my ideas and encourage them. I think this series is so important to people our age who suffer with mental illnesses on what a healthy relationship is. It is possible to be loved and to love. And I hope this series shows you that. With love, Isabella x Post A.N.: If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!

The last thing he expects when he walks into the tattoo parlour was for his song to be playing over the speakers. The heavy sound of the needle moving swirls with, yet contrasts against the gentle picking of the guitar flowing through the small space. He bites at his lip, trying to hide the smile so unmistakably tugging at his cheeks. He adores the tattoo artist’s sense of humour, and whilst some singers find a tattoo artist listening to their music uncanny, especially if the artist was unaware they would be early, he found it flattering and amusing.

He unconsciously starts humming along to the end of the song, walking up to the counter and ringing the bell, placing the cardboard coffee carrier he’s holding on the counter. The music was so powerful he isn’t sure the artist could hear it, but he waits and he glances around the parlour.

The artist, Tony, had made a house call to his apartment in Los Angeles when Shawn was around and wanted his new ink. Now, Shawn insisted he actually came into the parlour this time, that Tony driving all the way across LA for a small tattoo was idiotic and Shawn was more than able to make time in his hectic schedule to drive to the parlour. He’s glad he did, as the parlour is spotless compared to his messy bachelor pad apartment, with a receptionist desk pushed up against the left wall and comfortable lounge chairs in a circle on the right side of the room. The walls are dark grey and the floors are gleaming white marble, contrasted by the black furniture and picture frames littered in the lobby.

Shawn peaks down the narrow hallway, the several tiny areas sectioned off for each individual tattoo artist. He only hears one gun going along with the song slowly fading out. He glances at the clock on the wall above the desk and saw the gleaming 5:55 am. He originally figured Tony would open early for him to avoid any gawking fans or nosey people. He didn’t think there was someone before him.

And on top of his song playing over the speakers, Shawn certainly doesn’t expect for it to loop back and start over again. That’s when he hears a small voice that doesn’t belong to Tony speak up,

“Thank you for letting me listen to this song whilst you do this tattoo.”

“Of course,” Tony’s hoarse voice matches his appearance. It was deep and burly - just like Tony. His entire body was covered in tattoos and his head was shaven, “You’re getting a tattoo for it. It’d be dumb if you didn’t listen to the song.”

Shawn’s breath catches in his throat at Tony’s comment. He grasps his coffee from the carrier and cautiously steps forward, closer to the voices.

“How’d you get his handwriting?”

“Jenny met him at LAX and got it for me. She was waiting at the airport for me to get in and my flight had been delayed and she saw him in the queue for coffee. She had gone up to him and gotten him to write it out for me. By the time I saw her, he was gone,” she lets out a soft laugh and Tony replies, but Shawn’s brain is elsewhere.

He wracks his brain for the memory and finds it concealed away somewhere in the corner. He remembers the girl coming up to him. He can’t remember what she looked like, other than her light brown hair and full smile. She briefly mentioned she was waiting for her friend’s flight to get in and her friend had been dying to get him to write a tattoo out for her. He didn’t think much of it as it was 4:03 am and he didn’t process the word ‘tattoo’. But, he smiled slackly, took a picture with the girl and wrote out the tattoo in Sharpie. The girl thanked him over and over again before finally answering her phone that had been vibrating ever since he started writing the lyrics on the back of a piece of paper - with what he assumed was her friend’s flight information.

Shawn’s initial small smile he donned when he walked in the door was now a full-blown grin as he gets closer to Tony’s station. He remains silent, Tony’s glance flickering to him quickly before dropping his left eye into a small wink and turning back to the girl sitting in the tattoo chair. It clicks for Shawn then. Tony knew the girl was coming in with Shawn’s lyrics, early one morning and arranged Shawn’s appointment to be right after hers. Whether the interaction was for Shawn or the girl was unclear, but he can’t help but think Tony is a fucking genius.

Shawn cranes his neck to see the tattoo he’s working on. It’s on the girl’s upper right thigh, all the way at the top where her joint is. He notices the faint glow of red on her skin from the irritation of the needle and the blood Tony periodically wipes from her skin. The thick letters of his writing are permanently being embedded in her skin right before his very eyes. Also embedded in her skin are thick, white lines. Scarring, that was certainly intentional. Her tan, olive tone skin shows the white lines very clearly. Some of them are tinted with pink, suggesting they aren’t especially new, but they are the most recent ones out of the dozens, maybe even hundreds, on her legs. Shawn feels his smile dim slightly, trying to think of whether or not the lyrics he originally wrote down are being tattooed in a positive or negative light, ‘Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can’t - it isn’t in my blood.’

He looks at the girl, noticing her dark, curly brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and the several piercings in her ears. Two are in her lobes with three more in her cartilage. Shawn shifts to the other wall to get a better look at the girl and the work Tony was doing. He wonders to himself if he should make his presence known or simply sip his coffee and observe and do what would be considered eavesdropping. He decides on the latter, knowing the perfect moment to introduce himself would occur when it was ready and he shouldn’t force it.

Tony starts the word ‘like’ on her tattoo when she speaks again, in the same delicate voice she uttered in earlier, “Thanks for the other few tattoos. Sorry I’ve gotten so many today.

“Not a problem, dear. They’re on the house anyway.”

“No way,” her voice is quiet yet rigid, surprising Shawn slightly as she sits up, “I’m paying you.”

"Dear-"

Her voice is now a whisper, "No, Tony-"

“-It’s the least I can do,” he glances up at her with a look in his eyes and a character in his voice Shawn thinks is a mix of guilt and regret and sorrow and she pauses, sighing and settling back in her seat.

“Okay,” she’s quiet afterward, “I’m gonna change the song.” She changes the topic as Shawn senses the unease rolling off her shoulders at what appears to be a heavy topic.

“If you’re sure,” Tony’s voice is back to its original tone, the flicker of history gone as soon as it had appeared. The girl being in early made more sense if Tony knew her from somewhere else. He was too young for her to be her daughter and their body language was too foreign for them to be brother and sister. Shawn tries to decipher the dynamic between them when the song suddenly switches.

The introduction of the song seems tame, but fifteen seconds in, the guitars drop into a sequence of riffs, the drums crash and the bass threads through the speakers and scares the absolute shit out of Shawn. He yelps, the original quiet ambience of the tattoo parlour gone as the heavy rock song takes over. His coffee hits the floor with an unappealing smack, his beverage spilling all over the meticulous marble floors.

“God damn motherfucking shit,” he swears, lurching to Tony’s metal tray next to the chair and fumbling for the roll of paper towels.

The girl squeaks in surprise, shifting to look at the commotion as Tony stops his work and starts laughing. He switches the needle off and puts it down, handing Shawn some paper towels as he and Shawn bend down to clean up the hot coffee.

“Goddamnit, I’m so sorry,” Shawn splutters, his cheeks heating up to a temperature that feels hotter than the coffee and keeps his head down.

“Oh my God,” the girl whispers, recognising the curly brown hair from anywhere. She looks down at his hands to confirm her suspicions. There lays a swallow tattoo and it sends her into a spiral. Whether it was from her lack of sleep, the amount of caffeine in her blood, the pain of her tattoo or the shock of seeing the man who wrote a song that meant more to her than she could put into words - she becomes unstable. She leans back in her chair, looking at the ceiling as her mind fumbles to find a way to cope with the dizziness and anxiety that has crawled its way into her throat.

The steady strumming of the lone electric guitar grabs her attention and makes her listen to the song. She shuts her eyes and concentrates, “I reserve my right to feel uncomfortable, reserve my right to feel afraid, I make mistakes and I am humbled every step of the way, I want to be a better person, I wanna know the master plan, Cast your stones, cast your judgement, you don't make me who I am,” she shakily murmurs along to the lyrics of the song, trying to steady the pounding of her heart and the fuzziness in her head. The lyrics repeat in the song and she follows, eventually, the melody coaxing her out of her head and into a calm state.

Shawn doesn’t hear her mumbling to herself or even notice she recognises him, as he’s down on his hands and knees, soaking up the coffee as Tony laughs at the fright. Tony helps, not saying a word to Shawn as he throws the soaked paper towels in the bin, holding out a hand to Shawn so he can throw Shawn’s away as well. Shawn gives him a sheepish smile, walking around the chair, glancing at the girl with her eyes closed and immediately panics,

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asks hurriedly. The girl’s eyes snap open and she takes a sharp breath at his proximity. It takes her a moment, but she answers with an exhale,

“Yeah, I’m good.” She runs her hand through her hair, giving him a weak smile. He nods, reading the anxiety on her face with ease as he understands the look well. A look he’s all too familiar with when he would look in the mirror. He turns away, giving her space as he turns to the small sink on the counter of Tony’s station. Next to the sink is a neat array of ink pigments, unopened needles and transfer paper. His station is just as meticulous as the lobby.

When Shawn finishes washing his hands, he dries them off on his jeans, turning back to the girl who had been observing him. She doesn’t blush, but rather offers him a small smile,

“Sorry, I’m not usually this anxious.”

“I understand, honey,” he says, pointing to the empty seat in the corner of the room, behind Tony who’s changed his gloves and picked up the tattoo gun again. She nods in confirmation and Shawn notices the song switching to something still rock, but not quite as startling.

“Hey, it’ll be a while longer,” Tony mentions to Shawn who takes a seat and looks at the girl. He notices her eyes, which are several shades darker than his, and the sunspots that decorate her sun-kissed cheeks. Her lips are rosy and plump, her upper teeth dug into her bottom lip as Tony presses the needle back into her skin. Shawn watches as Tony continues his work, fixated on the way his words are being inked into this girl’s skin, for the rest of her life.

“That was nice of your friend,” Shawn finally states, looking up at the girl who makes eye contact with him at the sound of his voice. She sends him a small smile, grimacing a little as Tony’s needle moves closer to her inner thighs, the tender skin despising the pinch of the needle,

“Hey, it’s okay,” Shawn coos, getting up and pushing his chair closer to hers. He sits in his chair, laying a hand on hers which is gripping the edge of the tattoo chair.

“Told you it’d be sensitive,” Tony grunts, trying to move quickly, but accurately so he can start the line beneath it and move from the fragile space.

“Shut up, Tony,” she replies quietly and Shawn laughs. Tony rolls his eyes in a light-hearted manner, continuing his work.

“You can hold my hand if you want,” Shawn tells her and she looks at him, nervous and unsure if he’s being serious. He nudges her hand with his and holds out his palm for her to take if she wants. She slowly nods and moves her hand from the death grip on the leather seat to the soft hand held out to her. Her hand is much more petite than his as she threads her fingers in between his. He nods encouragingly at her, ignoring the tickle in his stomach, while she relaxes and drops her head back against the chair.

“Thank you,” she sighs.

“My pleasure.” His touch seems to relax her, her shoulders releasing themselves from the tight position that hugged her neck. She rolls her head to the side to look at Shawn,

“I’m also pretty good with pain.”

“This is the most reaction I’ve ever seen out of you,” Tony comments, finishing the comma after ‘up’ and moving to the outer part of her thigh where the ‘but’ is stencilled under the freshly tattooed ‘sometimes’. She audibly lets out a groan of relief, her grip on Shawn’s hand lightening, but not completely letting go.

“It’s also 6 am, you’re allowed to be all of these things,” Shawn’s voice eases over her pain and anxiety like butter and she nearly melts at the tone. Her rough exterior which usually occupies her face and posture is gone, the exhaustion and pain catching up to her and letting her put her guard down. The girl who claims to have a stern voice and high pain tolerance is gone and replaced with the anxious, tired girl who’s having a hard time with this tattoo. Whether it was Shawn startling her that set her nerves ablaze, the change of a heavy song to a smooth song or the exhaustion catching up to her was not certain, he just hopes she was okay and comfortable.

“Thank you,” she yawns, closing her eyes as her small nose scrunches and the silent movement of her mouth takes over her features. He feels her arms tense slightly and her shoulders raise, but she relaxes them and settles back in her seat.

“Of course, honey,” Shawn coos, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

“What are you getting done today?” She asks, trying to create a conversation. Shawn notices the delicate nature of her voice, a soft, silky tone that seems to suit her small stature, but powerful presence.

“A butterfly… I’ve always wanted one,” he admits.

“Can I see a picture?”

“Of course, darling,” Shawn adds another pet name and it makes her cheeks flush, but Shawn doesn’t notice. His gaze turns towards his phone, his left hand never leaving hers. She looks at him with interest, noticing the small things like his hair being free of product, his curls sticking every which way. His cheeks are flushed from she assumes was exhaustion, but what she didn’t know, it was really from the warmth of her fingers between his. He sports a worn, salmon jumper and black sweatpants, which both seem to fit him perfectly and swallow him whole. His normalcy at 6 am is comforting.

When he finds the picture, he turns the phone to show the girl with curious eyes. Her face seems to light up, looking at the design,

“Oh my god, you’re getting it?”

Shawn chuckles, locking his phone and shoving it into his jumper, “Yeah.”

“I think it looks fantastic, honestly,” she says, a little accent to her voice.

“Where are you from?” He asks suddenly. She’s surprised at his attention to her broken tone.

“I was born in America. I live in London for school and come back to America for the summer. Right now I’m doing a paid internship in New York.”

“That’s incredible,” Shawn admires, watching her plump lips move. They glisten in the fluorescent lights of the tattoo parlour and he can’t help but wonder what they taste like.

“Yeah, I love it in London, but I wouldn’t trade my internship for the world,” she smiles, glancing down briefly at the tattoo Tony was working on. Shawn follows her gaze, not daring to look any further up her, what seems like, silky skin. His eyes flicker over the scarring as they had earlier, noticing how deep most of them went. She notices his eyes trailing along with the scars,

“This might be oversharing,” she starts, reaching over to the countertop where her coffee cup lays, almost as if she’s trying to distract herself, “But, the lyrics, kind of relate to those.” Shawn blushes at being caught staring at something so incredibly personal. He thinks he wouldn’t have ever known they were there if she wasn’t getting her tattoo on her leg, so why is he mindlessly staring at them?

Her voice takes him out of his thoughts, “If you’d care to-”

“-Of course,” he looks into her eyes and they’re warm and calm and seemingly open to sharing.

“Well, the scars kind of represent how badly I wanted to end things, even though I didn’t have the courage,” she takes a deep breath, sipping at the coffee still in her hand, “But, I didn’t. I felt like giving up, but I couldn’t. And I got through it.”

Shawn’s watching the way her eyes never leave his or show any sort of pain as she explains her thought process. There’s no pain from the tattoo or pain in her eyes. The peace remains and Shawn can’t help but feel completely and utterly at ease in her presence.

“Yes, you did,” Shawn reassures her and she gives him a small smile. It’s so unbelievably genuine.

“What’s the butterfly for?” She pries, taking the topic off herself again. Shawn quickly wonders to himself if she doesn’t like talking about herself. Or anything about her past. Her vague answers shed enough light on why she was getting the tattoo, but not what she went through which inspired her to get the tattoo. And Shawn thinks maybe she changed the subject so he wouldn’t have a chance to ask.

“I’ve always had a fascination with them,” he admits, “They’re so delicate and beautiful in this incredibly dark world and I kind of want to get it as a reminder to stay positive and beautiful in dark times.”

“That’s beautiful,” she admits, looking at the swallow on his hand and the guitar-shaped landscape on his arm. He takes a second to glance at her exposed skin for other tattoos. He notices a small satellite on the side of her left knee, wrapped in the tattoo bandage. His eyes follow the skin of her arm, noticing a healed tattoo on her left wrist, a new tattoo on her left forearm and another new tattoo on her inner bicep. The simple admiration of other artists work and the thought process of either of them is evident as silence takes over them, the details becoming evident to one another as they look at the swirling designs of ink.

“You’re going in today, aren’t you?” Shawn teases quietly, already knowing the answer, trying to lighten the mood and match hers. She looks into his eyes, a certain emotion passing briefly, a flicker Shawn wants to stop and take a better look at. Her lips pull into a crooked smile instead of her small one,

“Yeah. I’ve been saving up for ages. I just have a lot of ideas for tiny tattoos.”

“She’s got a great mind on ‘er,” he comments, wiping away the blood around the word ‘can’t’ and starting the small dash before the words ‘it isn’t in my blood’ which are darker than the rest. She seems to blush at his words, ducking her head at the compliment. Shawn can sense her timidness and wants her to feel as comfortable as he does, so he changes the subject,

“What other ones did you get today?”

“Three. They’re all tiny. I got a 7 underneath next to my underarm, a rejection slip on my left calf and a ‘xo’ on my right upper calf in the corner.”

“I like the placements,” Shawn comments, his eyes flickering to the places she mentioned. He can’t see the actual tattoo, but he can see the wrap around them. So, he looks at the girl in front of him, looking into her eyes which swirl with stories and history and emotions and thoughts and Shawn finds himself wanting to know all of them and he finds himself blurting out, “How about one more?”

“Huh?” She asks, her head tilting to the side slightly.

Shawn surprises himself at his own words, “I want to get a tattoo with you.”

“You want to what?” Her voice squeaks. Shawn’s brain begins working a mile a minute at his impulse decision. A small bit of anxiety crawls in his throat at the sudden decision, as he always has to be one hundred per cent sure he wants a tattoo before he gets it, but something in his heart is telling him this idea is perfect,

“Well actually, not a new one, but... I think I want a second one today. And I need your help.” She’s watching with pure astonishment as she can see the gears turning in Shawn’s head. His eyes begin to squint and little wrinkles make crevices in his forehead as he thinks. He licks his lips, coming to rub at his lips with his thumb and forefinger, but never removing his hand from her.

“How would you want to write out some lyrics for me, from ‘Something Big’?” He suggests, his voice slightly nervous whilst looking at the lyrics being tattooed on her leg. He would get the same placement, with different lyrics, in her handwriting. No matter where he would go, he would remember that his music helps people and that people relate to it. And he’d always remember the girl who got his handwriting permanently added to her skin.

“You want my handwriting on you?”

“Yeah,” Shawn replies, his voice more sure of his decision, “I want your handwriting on me.” He emphasises the same words she did.

“Are you sure?” She asks, her voice small and timid as she asks the man she relates to more than she was willing to admit if he wants her handwriting on his skin forever, “I don’t want you to make an impulse decision.”

“Do you believe in fate?” He asks her abruptly. Her brows furrow but she nods, “This feels like fate is screaming at me. Like, this is what I’m supposed to do,” he runs his fingers through his hair, his grip on her hand tightening slightly, “I can’t even describe it.”

She brushes her lips with her tongue, watching him with uncertainty before looking at Tony. Tony is finishing the last word on her tattoo, nodding his head, encouraging her.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #sm #smtt #my writing

194 notes · View notes