#where they do a bunch of different tattoos
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Do you ever get the almost-writers-block feeling where your brain gives you an idea but then completely deserts you when it comes to actually fleshing it out or writing a story with it?
Mine came up with "a future where people subscribe to patreons for body models, which they then can wear"
So like you would pay 5$ a month and now you have the body of the person you subscribed to.
And all I can think of is some complications:
* if you stop subscribing or they end their patreon, you're out a body. You gotta find another one, fast. Your clothes might not fit anymore! You bought them for that body!
* the person who actually owns the body has to maintain it, as any changes will be reflected on all their patrons. Get a tattoo? Now hundreds or thousands of people have the same one. Dye your hair? I hope everyone likes being blonde! You'd probably have, like, polls for this sort of thing. Monetized Democratic body choices.
* what if they get hit by a car? A thousand people suddenly break their legs at once?
* licensing differences for bodies. Like, plenty of body patreons to have a "no doing porn" clause (because it'd be visually identical to the owner doing it), but some restrictive ones have "no having sex" (or "no having straight sex", in one notible example)
* you can subscribe to multiple body patreons and swap between which one you use on a daily basis
* pirated bodies on the darkweb
* police trying to solve crimes when the face that shows up on the cameras isn't the perp, it's some instagram model from Atlanta.
* society gets even weirder about fat shaming because anyone can wear the body of a person who weighs less than a sack of flour. Men on social media saying you gotta get her to show you childhood pictures so you can figure out if she's "really" fat.
* "we'd talked a lot online and she seemed really nice and we had great chemistry but when we finally met up, it turns out she always wears the Caitlin body!" "oh no, isn't that what your ex wore?" "exactly! And you know I've still got trauma from everything she put me through..."
* lotta young trans people figure some things out really quick. Forget "trying out crossdressing in secret" or "asking if people can use different pronouns on discord", how about trying having a different gender's body for a day?
* weird hackers trying to figure out how to modify the body-rental system so they can be dragons or elves. Speaking of which,
* people with body modifications to make themselves look less human being very popular. You can be an elf, thanks to that guy in Bowling Green, Florida who got the surgery to make his ears pointy. Apparently it paid for itself within 6 months.
* body reviews. People try out bodies and review how they are in looks and flexibility and stamina and any random aches and pains they might have.
* imagine reading one for your body. Someone walked a mile in your feet and gave a review of how your body looks and feels.
* weird couples who both wear the same body. Worse, polycules. They get together for a big cuddlepile and it's just 7 of the same body, and it gets difficult to tell where one begins and another ends.
* getting a bunch of information when you rent a new body, so you can know how it works and any odd things you gotta watch out for. Plus makeup tutorials and such, to know how to look exactly like how that body looked in certain photos
* everyone goes back to passwords on their phone. Fingerprints and facial recognition are no good, since someone could just rent the same body and now they have the same fingerprints and face.
* a subculture of disabled people who rent specific bodies not for their looks so much as their painless functionality. One of the most rented bodies amongst them is a woman from Minnesota who is definitely no model, but she's a 26 year old with no aches and pains and body that has plenty of energy and flexibility.
* oh so much drama about if it's ethical to rent bodies from other races. Predictable scandals where it turns out some musician or TikTok star is a white guy, despite their appearance as someone non-white. People get a lot madder at the white people wearing blackbody than the ones wearing asianbody, for reasons.
* a little post-it note inside a Starbucks where the customers can't see it, counting how many of a given body they've had in that morning. Someone named Stephan had 12 tally marks, and Lauren has 8. It's only 9:32 am.
Anyway yeah I have writer's block and can't do anything with this concept. Clearly.
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gotta ask the follow up question...
What tattoo do you want to get the most?
Nooooo I want so many though 😤😤
#that’s probably the hardest part#idk what one I would want to get first#there’s this place by me and they do this sale sometimes#where they do a bunch of different tattoos#and then it’s super cheap and you go in and point to which one you want#i don’t remember the rules or anything so don’t ask me much about it#but I’ve always thought about getting a small simple one from that just to start with#since I have no clue what to expect#I used to have a whole tattoo idea notebook#I would draw ideas#I’ve always wanted to get a matching tattoo with my sister#I had a few quotes that I thought of#but I think I would really want to do some word or phrase in Greek#also have always wanted to do some sort of wings#Idk if I would ever do it but I think it would be stunning to do a huge back piece with beautiful big angel wings#also want a crown somewhere but I feel like that’s obvious 😂😂😂#growing up my dream was to do a full sleeve#but idk what it would be of#also have wayyyyyy too many quotes I want to do#but my memory is shit so I don’t remember them all by heart#I just love quotes and I think it would be nice to have a reminder of a good hopeful quote#especially when times are hard#I can look at my tattoo and read it and just breathe and calm down a bit#definitely didn’t answer your question I’m sorryyyyy#it’s been awhile since I’ve seriously thought about getting a tattoo#I need to focus on other things so I don’t think I’ll have money for a tattoo any time in the near future#once I move out of my current place then maybe I can think more seriously into tattoos#until then I need to get a new tattoo idea journal and start doodling in there when I get bored!#thanks for the question sweetie 💖#ask
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nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top
The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup.
The plus side is he gets more time with Steve.
They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.
Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has.
Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from.
Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.
But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.
Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.
But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.
He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.
And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.
Until he does.
It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose.
Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.
Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line.
But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright.
Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him.
It’s a look.
A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.
It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.
Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out.
When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.
“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting.
Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.
His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up.
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.
He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.
“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.
“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”
Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.
“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”
Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in.
It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.
Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.
Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling.
Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”
Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”
“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”
It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard.
Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”
Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.
“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”
Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.
“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”
Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft.
Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.
“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”
“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.
“You close, honey?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?”
“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.
It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.
While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.
“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.
Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.
So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.”
#here's some sub top eddie from yours truly#also i've talked about actor eddie before but we need to talk about him more plssplss#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie smut#subeddieweek#sub eddie week#famous eddie munson#hairdresser steve harrington
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Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 2]
In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.
First part | Next part | Masterpost
CW: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, take care everyone!
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Danny is 15 years old when he's informed that he is the crown prince of the Infinite Realms. He would have loved it if someone had had the decency to explain that the title of Ghost King would be passed down through right of conquest sometime before he fought Pariah Dark. If not that, couldn't someone at least have said something a bit sooner?
Now Danny had been faced with the information that he was ghost royalty out of nowhere, and that's just not something he was prepared to deal with on a random Tuesday afternoon.
As Danny paces the length of his bedroom he chooses to ignore Tucker's pointed reminder of "It's a Wednesday."
Instead of responding, he shoots a tiny ecto-blast at where his friend is lounging in the beanbag, which is easily dodged. Not that it would have hit, whenever Danny was aiming at one of his human friends me made sure to channel his dad and aim almost a full foot away from them, just to be safe.
He may be annoyed with Tucker's lack of sympathy about his situation, but he would never purposefully hurt him. Still, a warning shot when Tucker got extra cheeky wouldn't hurt anyone.
The other boy let out an affronted squawk as he dodged the blast, but wisely stayed silent after that.
Danny continued his pacing for another moment, but before he could start his frustrated rambling again Sam spoke up from Danny's bed, she hadn't even looked up from her phone for the whole time Danny had been ranting.
"It's not that big of a deal Danny, the council have been dealing with things just fine up until now, I'm sure they'll handle things until you're ready."
It was true, he knew that the council would continue to run the realms, and allow Danny to ease into the role.
The thing was, he was hoping that "ready" would mean he was at least of legal age. But no, ghosts saw time and age differently of course, they were satisfied as long as he was at least sixteen. Which he would turn in a few months.
In a desperate attempt to postpone the coronation (because Danny was not ready to become king of an infinite dimension yet, holy shit, he had convinced the council that it would be in their best interest to wait until the summer after Danny turned sixteen.
Danny still had to go to school after all, and the thought of having one measly weekend to be crowned before having to return to the halls of Casper High was not one that excited him.
The council had agreed to wait until summer. Danny wasn't overly happy that he'd still only have two months to adjust, but he'd take what he could get at this point.
He was not looking forward to starting his junior year, to say the least.
As if his looming coronation wasn't enough, now that Danny was aware of his title as crown prince, he suddenly had a bunch of new responsibilities. Supposedly, it was to prepare him for being king. Danny found it tedious at best, but he hadn't found a way to get out of it so far.
Luckily, as long as no ghost caused too much trouble Danny didn't have much to worry about.
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A ghost was causing too much trouble, enough that Danny got called in to deal with it.
At first he'd been salty that he had to ditch Sam and Tucker last minute for some stupid job that surely someone else could do. But once he heard what the job was, he was for once glad that he was dealing with it himself.
The situation was delicate, and Danny wouldn't trust a lot of ghost to handle it carefully enough.
An annoying ghost whose name Danny hadn't bothered to fully remember (Wi.. Fin.. Vin..ca.. something or other, not important) had decided to head to the human realm to take revenge for their death.
Now, if Danny tried to stop every ghost that ever tried to avenge their own death he'd never get to rest. A ghost's death was such a personal matter too, Danny didn't feel like he had any right to step in and say what's right or wrong for them to do.
So, in nearly all cases he stayed out of it. A lot of ghosts were happy to avenge their deaths in non-violent ways. Some time spent haunting their murderer, scaring them shitless, and most ghosts were satisfied. Not enough to move on, revenge was rarely enough for that, but enough to exist peacefully in the Realms.
That was all fine in Danny's book, but this particular ghost (Danny mentally dubbed them "Vi" when he failed to remember their full name) had decided that violence was the only answer.
The thing was, they blamed the wrong people. Vi had been a citizen of Gotham when they were alive, and they got caught up in some bad business. That had eventually led to their death.
It wasn't any one person's fault, but Vi blamed the Gotham vigilantes. From what Danny knew, Vi had been running away from said vigilantes, not wanting to be arrested, and had died because they were too focused on avoiding the vigilantes to pay attention to their surroundings.
The details of their death beyond that was not something Danny knew, he had listened to the necessary details from Clockwork before he left, but he didn't like learning exactly how other ghosts died unless they tell him themselves, it felt too personal.
All he needed to know was, the actions of the Gotham vigilantes had indirectly caused Vi's death, so they were on their way to Gotham to take revenge. That was bad, on so many levels.
The absolute last thing Danny needed was The Batman getting interested in ghosts. Danny had done a great job of managing without his or anyone else's help so far, and he really didn't want them poking their noses into his business now.
That was why Danny was speeding towards Gotham City, hoping to get there before Vi managed to track down a vigilante, as he was sure they didn't have any ways to defend themselves against ghosts.
After flying at nearly top speed for half an hour, Danny finally arrived. Not that long if you think about it, but plenty of time for a vengeful ghost to track down their targets.
With no better method, Danny started flying laps around the city, hoping his ghost sense would go off eventually.
His ghost sense remained quiet, but he found something better.
Batman himself, was right there fighting off a group of thugs. It was a small group of people for a skilled fighter like Batman to take on, he didn't really need backup. Which probably meant, the bird was somewhere nearby..
And yup! Standing on a rooftop close by keeping lookout was Robin.
This was neat, two vigilantes in the same location, now Danny could just stay here and keep guard until Vi showed themselves.
Danny hovered over Batman's fight invisibly, realizing how lucky he was that the man was unaware of his existence, and had no access to ecto-powered weapons. Danny shivered just at the thought.
Now that he was thinking about it, Batman was surrounded by a lot of people. A lot of them were probably innocent people, pulled into this business by a lack of better opportunities. Just like Vi.
And if Vi was here only for revenge, surely they wouldn't risk other people suffering the same fate as them. If they attacked Batman now, any one of the thugs could get caught in the crossfire.
Would Vi just wait it out until Batman was alone? It didn't make a lot of sense. Surely they would act soon, but Batman was surrounded, and Robin was.. Robin was alone!
Danny turned around in a panic as a cold shiver ran through his body.
Shit
He shot off towards Robin at high speed. Now that he had sensed them he could tell where they were (two seconds) Vi was heading right for Robin, their claws out and ready to strike (one second), they were just about to make contact, barely an inch away from Robin, when Danny crashed into them, phasing them both harmlessly through the vigilante and flying them far, far away in the blink of an eye. His heart was drumming so hard in his chest, (he could feel it all the way through his arms, wow) he didn't realize his heart could beat that hard in ghost form, he assumed his core would take over.
Maybe it was just testament to how stressed out Danny was.
That had been too close.
He had barely a moment to rest, as Vi broke out of his hold angrily.
"Foolish boy, do not get in the way of my revenge again."
Vi tried to fly away to try again, but Danny formed an ecto-barrier around them to keep them put.
"Not gonna happen, you're targeting two innocent people."
Vi hissed at him with frustration,
"You know not what you speak of, fool. Those killers parading around as heroes caused my unfair demise, and I shall have reve-"
At that point Danny decided he'd heard enough, it was a school night and he had to get going, so he grabbed the thermos from his belt and sucked Vi into it mid-spiel. He'd heard that same speech enough times to know how it goes.
Robin still alive, Batman unaware of ghosts existing, Crisis averted, and Danny would still make it home with enough time to get a half-decent nights sleep. Things were looking up.
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Jason is 14 years old. It's been a year since his soulmate died.
He's gotten good at pretending it doesn't affect him anymore. After that first night where Jason let himself properly cry in Alfred's arms, neither of them had spoken about the matter again. Alfred made it a point to treat Jason exactly the same as before, knowing that if he were to act extra careful as to not upset the boy it would have the opposite effect.
Alfred was great like that, always noticing and remembering things but knowing when not to bring them up.
He pretended not to notice that Jason never wore short sleeved shirts anymore.
When he found Jason huddled away in the library he pretended not to notice how many more romance novels the boy was reading compared to before.
During the darkest nights, when Jason silently wishes he could go join his soulmate wherever they had ended up, Alfred was there without fail. He didn't speak of the things he knew Jason was thinking about, whether it was as to not make Jason uncomfortable or because Alfred himself didn't dare say it out loud, he didn't know.
But he was there, every time.
And when Jason realized it had been a full year since his soulmate died, Alfred was there as a silent support, just a moment away should Jason need him yet never intruding.
If Bruce notices that anything has happened to Jason, he hasn't bothered to ask about it yet. Jason isn't sure if he prefers it that way or not.
On one hand, he doesn't like the idea of Bruce butting into his personal business, the man had never been great with emotions.
But the realization that his father-figure didn't even know what he was going through had Jason wanting to burst into Bruce's study and tell him everything, if even just to get a reaction out of him.
It had been a year, but so far he hadn't said anything.
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When Jason is out on the streets of Gotham, the mask of Robin is always a nice barrier to hide behind. He'll lock his emotions up tight in the back of his mind and cover them up with the veil of an unbothered vigilante who had far better things to worry about.
This night he's standing on a rooftop, keeping a lookout as Bruce deals with a group of thugs. The group was small enough that Bruce would have no trouble at all dealing with them, and Jason's time would be better spent keeping an eye out for anyone trying to slink away unnoticed by the bat.
It had been an uneventful few minutes, watching Bruce dispose of the thugs as all of them kept rushing him, not a single one having the bright idea that whatever payout they were promised wasn't worth sticking around anymore.
Then, Jason felt a shiver run up his spine. He felt like he was being watched. It was a foreboding feeling, like something was going to jump at him any moment.
He spun around, quickly assessing his surroundings, but he found nothing out of place.
The feeling did not go away though, only growing more insistent.
And then in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind picks up around Jason as the feeling of danger flares, and Jason is sure he is about to die right there.
In the next second, the wind turns cold, and Jason could swear he saw his breath fog in front of him for a moment. Yet he doesn't feel even the slightest bit frozen.
The cold passes through him impossibly fast, and with it the feeling of danger vanishes, and so between one blink and another Jason is left standing there dumbfounded at what just happened.
He hadn't imagined it, that feeling of danger was nothing concrete but it had been clear as day in Jason's mind.
The wind was definitely real too, he'd felt it rustle his hair as it passed by.
And the biggest piece of evidence he wasn't going crazy, was the small piece of frost on the ground around Jason's feet. He took a step away from it experimentally, and it quickly faded. But it had been there.
The biggest mystery of the night though, the part of this whole thing that shook Jason to his core, was his wrist.
He raised his wrist and pulled back his glove to check, because there was no way he was actually feeling what he thought he was.
But right there, the tiny black heart that was stuck to his wrist as a permanent reminder of what he could have had, was carefully beating in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. Slow, faint, but real.
Jason lost track of time as he stood there, just watching the heart on his wrist beating slower and slower, until it stopped and refused to move again.
For the first time in a year, Jason feels a dangerous sliver of hope sneak it's way into his heart.
It can't be.
But there was no other explanation.
Jason had been in danger, but some unknown force, one that brought an overwhelming feeling of safe with it had saved him.
And his tattoo was telling him his soulmate had been there.
Jason couldn't think of a better explanation than that the one who saved him was a spirit, or ghost of some kind. It sounded ridiculous.
He looks back at his wrist, gently stroking his fingers over the tattoo as the considers it.
It seemed like a ghost saved him.
His soulmate had been there.
His soulmate who was dead.
Jason felt silly for entertaining the thought, but he couldn't help but want to believe it. That tonight he had been about to die, and the spirit of his soulmate had protected him.
He took that realization and stored it away with the rest of his emotions. He didn't know how to feel about it.
He knew, that for the past year his grief had made him consider some terrible things. But how could he possibly want to go join his soulmate now, when they'd done the impossible and appeared next to him for even just a moment, to save his life.
Jason decided then, that no matter what happened, he was going to live. The sadness may never fully go away, by he would live the life he had been given, and his soulmate would simply have to wait until Jason was ready to join them.
With a lighter conscience than he's had in a year, Jason grapples away from the roof and heads back home, a tiny hint of a smile on his face.
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First part | Next part | Masterpost
Tags: @craftyexpertchild
Thank you for reading <3
#danny phantom#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc#jason todd#dead on main#soulmate au
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HOW DEEP • SUGURU GETO
☣︎ Summary: It’s rush week at your college and your boyfriend chooses to put his prospective fraternity above your relationship. When you find out, you’re left devastated and, well… in need of a SERIOUS cover-up considering you’d gotten his name tattooed on your ass just two months ago. Good thing famed tattooist, Suguru Geto, has a shop by campus.
Pairing: Tattoist Geto Suguru x Fem Reader
Tags: modern au, pierced geto, tattooed geto, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, cam sex, squirting, creampie, marking
WC: 7.6k
Art: yoroz_roz on Twitter!
A/N: This was a lot longer than I intended, you’re welcome!
Rush week. You’d prepared yourself for this week to be stressful given the fact that you’re in a new state, far away from your family and friends for the first time in your life. You had decided to commit to the same university as your long-time boyfriend, Ryōmen, and so far, you guys have kept to yourselves and relished in the lack of parental hovering. The problem is, since rush week started, Ryōmen’s been busy with all things fraternity related and you’ve been stuck trying to figure out college life on your own.
Normally being away from him wouldn’t be so bad, it was always as simple as hanging out with friends from home or just cruising around your home state, but you’ve got no friends here and no idea where to go to keep busy. Hence the dilemma at hand and the reason you’re in sweats and a sweater sitting cross legged on your bed in your dorm on a Friday night, of all nights. Your music plays loudly in your headphones, a soft vibration playing against your skull every time the bass thumps just right, your body idly bouncing with the beat. You don’t even notice a voice sounding out until you feel a firm nudge against your shoulder, which makes you look to your side in surprise to see your roommate, Yuki, sitting next to you and waving to get your attention. Your fingers find the pause button on your phone and you slide your headphones down to wrap around your neck.
“Damn, girl, I was beginning to think you were in some sort of trance while praising the devil, jeez. What kind of music is that, anyways!?” She asks, her brows knitting together in both confusion and amusement as she looks at the song cover on your phone, shaking her head.
“S-sorry, sometimes I just need to drown the world out, y’know?” You sheepishly respond, chuckling and flipping your phone around, a bit insecure. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous— back home, you had your clique and your tastes aligned perfectly. There was never a worry about being an outsider when in a group of a bunch of goth-grunge addicted teens. But, this was different. You’re in California, now, and there’s nothing but sun, bright colors, preppy girls all around you. You were the odd one out, now.
“Girl!” Yuki snaps in front of your face, making you realize you’d drifted off in thought while she was talking to you.
“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You ask, shaking yourself out of it and rolling your shoulders back, showing her you’re actively listening to whatever it is that she’s trying to say.
“I was saying that you CLEARLY need to get out and what kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t help you get what you need, hm? Get up. There’s a party at Phi Gamma tonight and you, my sweet shut-in, will be coming. No questions asked.” She tells you, already standing and grabbing your hand, dragging you to your closet and planting you there while she opens it.
One thing you’ve learned since getting here and meeting Yuki? Arguing with her is futile. If she doesn’t convince you to do something she thinks is for your own good the first go around, you bet your ass she’s gonna take you by the neck and make you do it. It’s sort of endearing, because you know she means well, it’s just not the type of personality you’re used to.
“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve go— oh? You’ve been holding out on me, I see! What’s with the constant sweats and sweaters when you’ve got style like this!?” She asks after opening your closet, her eyes wide as she sees the amount of clothes, most being pre-made outfits, you have in there. You’re grateful she doesn’t mention the amount of black in your wardrobe that’s only separated by bits of white and grey. “Here, this should be great, go shower and get ready. We leave in forty-five!” You feel the outfit being shoved against your chest before you even see it, making you chuckle at her eagerness before you head to the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later and you’ve showered, done your hair, and perfected your makeup. You’re wearing a black and grey striped sweater that stops mid-rib, dark denim shorts with torn fishnets beneath them, and Gaya 10-Eye Alt Doc Martens— your favorites. You layered some chains, a choker, and a long belt atop your outfit to top it off and switch your two nose studs and septum piercing to silver jewelry to complement the outfit. You do the same with your earrings, nearly forgetting to. Your makeup is dark and sultry, as per usual, a black lip paired with black eyeshadow and liner save for a pop of dark purple in the center of your lids and your under eye. Your hair is down, a black bandana keeping it back save for two strands of hair you keep out in front of your face.
You make your way out of the bathroom and Yuki turns to you, her mouth falling open at the sight of you. “What… the… fuck? Ok I see why your boyfie kept you cooped up here for two weeks after move-in. You’re hot, bitch! And these tattoos? They fuck. Hard.” She compliments you, making you chuckle. She gets closer to trace the cybersigilism tattoo that dawns your neck and collarbones, all the way down to the start of your cleavage. You raise your brow, a bit awkward given how comfortable she is, which she seems to realize, prompting her to step away. “Sorry! I’ve just never seen tats like that before! The ones on your legs are insane, I’d never cover up if I were you.” She shakes her head.
You shake your head and chuckle, but it does prompt a nagging voice in the back of your head asking you why exactly it is that you’ve been covering up head to toe. Was it because you’re scared of being an outcast? Is the weather too hot? No, that’s not it. You think back to a conversation you had with Ryō about being more tame while you were sat on your bed in your dorm. Something about not wanting to seem like the average college e-girl who gets around freshman year. You frown at the memory and shrug at Yuki. “Just haven’t had a reason to get dressed up yet.” You reason, making her shake her head, eyes still wide as she looks you over.
She stops ogling you to finish her own makeup, popping some lip gloss on before clapping once, turning to you. “‘Kay, let’s go!”
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
The walk to Phi Gamma isn’t bad in the least and you’re grateful for the California heat persisting through the night. If you were back in Washington, you’d have icicles dripping down your nose right now given it’s ten at night in the beginning of October.
You walk into the frat house with Yuki and you’re immediately suffocated with the smell of hookah smoke, ear-ruining loud music, and so many people. Too many to fit in the house, that’s for sure, but that’s never mattered when it came to parties.
“C’mon, let’s get you loosened up, first!” Yuki screams close to your ear so you hear her over the music, taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen. She pours you a cup of something dark before grabbing a coke and moving to pour that as well, but you hold your hand up to stop her.
“‘M okay, I don’t like mixers or chasers.” You tell her, making her raise her brows and hold her arms up as if to tell you to suit yourself, making you smile widely. You both down your drinks at the same time and she pours another with you both downing them again. With that, she leans close to your ear, speaking loudly enough for you to hear over the music.
“I’m gonna go see if I can find some weed, you smoke?” She asks and you shake your head.
“Not weed.” You respond, reaching in your pocket to show her your pack of Marlboros, scrunching your own face up in disgust and shame. You’re slowly quitting, though, so you give yourself props for that.
She shrugs and heads off, leaving you to yourself. You look around, trying to find a good spot to hang out in before you head to it only to be stopped by a soft pair of hands. “Hey! You’re in my Neurophilosophy class!” You hear the girl say, making you shrug with a nod. “I didn’t think I’d see you here! Didn’t seem like the type to like frat parties! I’m Utahime.” She shouts, clearly a little tipsy judging by the red tint of her cheeks.
You offer her a kind smile and your name before you start heading toward the spot you’d sought out, but she catches your hand and stops you. “Wait! Wanna dance? It’s just that… you’re the only one here I know besides my dumbass friend who’s probably off somewhere bragging about being ‘The Honored One’ because he caught the Phi Gamma chicken for initiation. Apparently that warrants a parade in his name or something.” She says, rolling her eyes at said friend’s antics. When you raise your brow in confusion, she chuckles. “Every year during rush week, Phi Gamma lets out this cursed looking demon chicken from Hell for their pledges to catch. They say it never gets caught before making it back to its coop, but leave it to him to do it. First time in seven years. It’s silly, really.” She explains, waving the conversation away. “So, will you?”
You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, you pitying her situation, or just the fact that you’re happy to meet someone else who actively wants to hang out, but you find yourself saying yes and following her into the crowd of unbelievably sweaty frat boys and sorority girls doused in pink. Literally. Body paint everywhere. You’re sure to avoid stains as you dance with Utahime, chucking as she does the robot to get you to crack a smile. As time passes, you find yourself dancing so close to her that you’re sure you’ll merge into one being soon.
You let a bit more time pass before you decide on another drink, leaning forward to shout in her ear so she hears you. “I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” You ask, earning a head shake from her. Shrugging, you push through the crowd and find yourself in the kitchen again, pouring yourself another red solo cup full of alcohol. You sip on it, smiling to yourself because even though you miss Ryo, you’re still having a better time than you thought you would. That’s when you hear it.
“Bro, have you seen this shit!? No fuckin’ way did Zeta Nu initiate their pledges like this!” A guy shouts to his friend, your ears tuning into the sound of your beloved boyfriend’s frat name. You turn to see him showing his friend a video on his phone and you smile to yourself, happy the initiation is over and looking forward to being told whatever silly thing they had Ryo do.
“I fuckin’ WISH Phi Gamma would make us bang some sorority thot to get in! You think it was to count out whoever came first? Damn, look at bro with the pink hair going in like his life depends on this shit!” You hear the other voice speak up and your heart drops. A knot forms in your stomach and your hand gets clammy around your cup. Of course your mind is going toward the worst case scenario and before you can even think, your feet have carried you to the two guys, your other hand reaching for the phone the first one is holding.
“Lemme see this.” You say, the douche saying something about adding your number while you’re at it, but it’s drowned out into the background noise because you’re zoned in on one thing. Your boyfriend banging a sorority girl and smiling at the camera while flexing his fucking bicep. Flexing. He’s fucking living for this.
You feel bile creeping up your throat and you shove the phone against the guy’s chest, making your way to the door. The second you get outside, you hunch over and puke in the bushes, sobering up by the second. Your hand grasps at your chest and you feel it hammering so hard as though it’s trying to escape. Your other fishes your phone out of your pocket and you flinch seeing Ryōmen has texted you.
Him: I love you <3
You fight the urge to throw up again, your fingers typing back quickly.
You: I love you so much, Ryo. Miss you and wanna see you. May have drank a bit too much, hehe :3 Can I come see you?
You hit send, not even bothering to wait for an answer before you push yourself to head to his dorm, ready to use the excuse that you’re drunk and wanted to see him when you show up. Your phone pings and you open it faster than you thought humanly possible to see another text from him.
Him: Come to me, baby.
Before you know it, you’re at his door, knocking rather hard, if you were being honest, but you don’t care. Not seconds later, he opens it and pulls you into him, immediately moving to kiss your neck, which makes you want to shed your skin. When he doesn’t feel you reciprocate, he pulls away and frowns, eyes searching yours. “What’s the matter, hm?” He asks, head wobbling as the smell of alcohol hits your face. He’s drunk.
You walk into his room with an annoyed sigh, closing the door behind you and pacing for a moment before stopping in front of him. “Ryōm–”
“Y’look so hot, baby. Why were you out drinking looking this hot without me?” He asks with a frown, making you scoff unexpectedly.
“You really don’t wanna bark up that tree right now, Ryo. I need t–” You start, but he interrupts you again.
“And why d’you keep using my name?” He asks.
“Jesus fuck, Ryo. Let me talk!” You shout, your hands flailing for a second. He nods, mocking you with a stupid look on his face silently, making you seethe. “Tell me it isn’t true.” You say, earning a confused look from him. “Tell me you didn’t fuck some random girl to get into a fucking FRATERNITY, Ryo. Tell me you’re not that fucking insane.Tell me you didn’t just throw away YEARS with me after I came all this way to be with you.” You say, your voice firm. You surprise yourself with the fact that no tears have formed in your eyes just yet, the anger far more overwhelming than sadness.
His look of confusion turns to pure shock and it’s like a cold pitcher of water has just been flung in his face. “Who told y– babe. Babe, it was just a stupid fucking initiation thing, it’s not like I actually cheated. You’re my girlfriend, you should be happy, I’m in! I made it because I did what it took and that shows drive. Why the fuck are you even upset right now?” He asks and you have to do a double take to confirm what you thought you saw in his face. He’s genuinely pissed and confused that you’re upset right now.
That does it for you. “Are you saying… you didn’t cheat… because it was for an initiation? You want me to be HAPPY that you stuck your dick in someone that isn’t me? Fuck you, Ryōmen. I don’t know you at all. The boy I fell in love with would have been a man and turned the stupid fucking initiation down. This frat? Would have only mattered while here. Us? We were supposed to be together until death. Fuck you for choosing something so stupidly temporary. We’re done.” You spit out, rage bubbling in your core like you’re made from it. He grabs your wrist as you make your way out of his room, but you tear it away, every part of you in utter disbelief that you ever let a man like him touch you at all.
You make your way outside, your phone pinging again and again, no doubt messages from him trying to gaslight you into believing he did what he had to do for his future. You ignore them, sucking in the fresh air like your life depends on it and taking in your surroundings, still hoping in the back of your mind that they’ll all melt away and you’ll wake up from this nightmare. You, someone who’s always been mindful of your future and who has always taken care to do what’s best for you, are now in a new state so far from everyone you love all alone because of a boy. A fucking boy.
You take off the promise ring he gave you for your five year anniversary and toss it as far as you can, hating the idea of having a symbol of what you thought was true love with him on your body… and then you roll your eyes as you facepalm. Your fucking tattoo. Against the advice of literally everyone you know, you’d gotten a tattoo of his name on the top of your ass. “Fuck me…” You mutter to yourself, immediately googling a tattoo studio near you.
“Cursed Ink Studios…” You read the top result out loud, seeing it’s only a thirteen minute walk from here. With an annoyed shrug, you start making your way there, silently cursing yourself for assuming it’d stay warm all night. The cold nips at your practically exposed thighs and your nose turns its familiar shade of red quickly. You pick up the pace, hoping to find warmth in the studio.
A cigarette and a half later, you find yourself in front of the studio, snubbing out the last half of your cigarette and flicking it into the trash can. The bell above the door chimes as you make your way in and you’re greeted by a brunette woman who looks… worn down, to say the least. No doubt from the loads of drunken college students who’ve wandered in here tonight.
“Welcome to Cursed Ink Studios, my name’s Shoko. How can we help you tonight, babe?” She asks, leaning forward on the reception desk. You appreciate the fact that she doesn’t comment on the fact that you’ve thoroughly been done in by the cold wind that’s whipped your hair in every direction and kissed your nose until it’s red.
You shift on your feet, scratching your head. “I, uhh… I need a cover-up done.” You say, making her sigh as though she feels sorry for you.
“I’m sorry, babe, but cover-ups need an appointment ahead of time.” She says, earning a face palm from you. You nod and turn to head out, but a voice stops you.
“Wait. It’s fine, Shoko. I have time.” A smooth, deep voice sounds out from deeper within the studio and you turn toward it to see quite possibly the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His skin is like cream, hair half tied up letting the rest fall down his back and shoulders, his eyebrow is adorned with a piercing, and gauges are sported on his ear lobes. He’s wearing a black tank top that hangs loose on him, his arms both covered in tattoos, the most notable one being a large dragon on his right arm. He’s carrying keys, which lets you know he was likely about to head home and you feel guilt pooling in your stomach.
You can’t help but clam up at the sight of him and you gulp before shaking your head. “N-No, it’s okay, really, it’s late and I should have known I’d need an appointment. Y-You probably wanna get home, seriously, it’s okay.” You say, trying desperately to keep your voice steady. He chuckles, eyes closing as he shakes his head and you look to Shoko, who gives him a knowing look, rolling her eyes.
“Nah, you’re good. What’re you needing covered up, angel?” He asks you, making your heart flutter. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your system making you so flustered, but it’s a welcome feeling compared to the anger you feel when thinking of Ryōmen. Which reminds you…
“So, and I’m prepared for all the judgment you’re probably gonna throw my way, I got my boyf— EX boyfriend’s name tattooed on my ass cheek a couple months back. Turns out he’s a cheating dickhead, so I need to get it covered up. Preferably with something similar to my current tattoos. Maybe… uhh… maybe a—“ He chuckles and interrupts you.
“I got you. And I’ll spare the criticism of your choice to tattoo his name. Just fill out the forms with Shoko and I’ll go get set up in my room. I’ll sketch something out, too. Cybersigilism, huh?” He asks, smirking as he nods at you while walking backward to give you a once over before he heads to his station.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
After filling out the forms, you slowly walk to the room you saw the man head to and you find him working on an iPad, drawing. “You can sit down, angel, I’m just finishing up.” He says, gesturing to his tattoo bed. You take the opportunity to look around his room, gawking at all of the drawings and photos of tattoos he has splayed on his walls. The decor matches your tastes, goth-grunge styling everywhere. It looks like he specializes in cybersigilism and neo tribal tattoos, which helps to reinforce your confidence in him.
“Geto Suguru, by the way.” He says, suddenly towering above you. You hadn’t even noticed he stood up and looking up at him from this angle makes your heart race. You tell him your name and his face takes on a look that you can only assume is curiousness, but he quickly changes his expression to a smirk. “So, here’s what I’ve got. Noticed the hearts you’ve got around your knees and the eyes you’ve got on your neck, so I decided I’d go with a sword. Figured it’d be fitting.” He chuckles as he shows you the iPad, which manages to draw a quick laugh from you.
“Fitting is exactly the word I’d use. I love it. Let’s do it.” You say, genuinely surprised he could even come up with something so quickly.
“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to take those shorts and fishnets off, angel. You can leave your underwear on, I’ll just keep them out of the way with some paper towels. Stay standing after so I can put the stencil on, ‘kay?” He asks. You know it’s what he needs you to do in order to do the tattoo, but your face heats up at the thought of being half naked with him. He closes the door to his room and turns away to prepare the stencil, leaving you to do as asked.
Slowly and tentatively, you take off your shoes and then undo your shorts, pulling them down and stepping out of them carefully. Next is your fishnets, you’re careful not to rip them when you take them off and lay them on top of your shorts. You’re thankful you wore a thong tonight, knowing it won’t get in the way of the tattooing.
He turns around, eyeing you as though just trying to see where he needs to put the stencil, but you can see something else in his eye. Maybe he pities you? You sure fucking hope not.
“Alright, ‘m gonna place the stencil and then I’ll need you to just stand for a bit while it dries.” He says and you nod. He’s methodical in stepping forward, disinfecting, shaving the area, and then placing the stencil on you, being sure to perfect the alignment so the sword covers Ryōmen’s name entirely. His long fingers press down for just a second before he removes the paper and steps back to see the alignment from afar. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He hisses under his breath, but you hear. You tell yourself he’s just proud of his work and try not to acknowledge the pooling between your thighs. “How’s it look, angel? Don’t be afraid to let me know if you want anything changed.” He tells you.
You move to step in front of the mirror, turning to your side so you can see your ass better. It plumps up as you flex and you nod at the placement before looking up to see him with his eyes shut and his head up at the ceiling. “Y’know, you really don’t have to do this if you’re tired, I can make an appointment.” You say, feeling bad.
“Trust me, I’m very much awake. Made me question if I was dreaming when you walked in, angel, but I’m awake.” He says, your eyes going wide and your mouth falling open, but just as casually as he said that, he moves on. “Alright, ‘m gonna have you lay on your side facing away from me. Just poke your,” he grunts “poke your ass out toward me and I’ll get started.”
You do as told, your body hot and exposed and your mind reeling from how casually he’d just said that. Surely it must be for tips, you can’t imagine he’d want you. Not just because he’s built like a God, but he must be taken, right? There’s no way on Earth someone like him could be single.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod, breaking from your thoughts. With your confirmation, he smirks and leans forward, beginning to tattoo you. Him being so close to your ass makes you want to tense up, but you steel yourself and rip your eyes away from him so you can attempt to stop the wetness pooling between your folds like a bitch in heat.
“So. ‘M guessing this was recent, hm? The whole cheating thing. Not trying to pry, just curious. We don’t have to talk about it.” He says as he focuses on the tattoo, dipping the needle into the black ink he’d set up.
“Mhm. Couple of hours ago. Ran a train on a sorority girl as some fucking frat initiation. Piece of shit.” You spit, hearing him scoff and looking to see him shake his head.
“Ouch. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, to say the least.” He responds and you bite your lower lip, blushing and looking forward again, at the mirror.
“I’m the idiot. I moved from Washington all the way here with him so we could go to the same college and I had no idea he was capable of this. Now I’m away from family and friends and just… stuck here.” You roll your eyes, huffing.
“We can be friends. I mean, it’s contingent on you coming around more often, though. Think you can do that, angel?” He says, an undertone you can’t quite discern in his voice that makes your mouth go dry.
“Y-yeah. I mean, I plan to get more tattoos. If you do a good job, I mean.” You respond, nearly choking on your words because of that damned pet name he keeps calling you.
“Mmm, trust me, I’ll do you right.” He says and this time the undertone in his voice is so painfully clear that you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You decide not to respond, scared your voice will come out shakier than intended.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
The next few hours go by in the same fashion. Small talk with him lacing in subtle compliments or flirtations. That goddamned pet name falling from his perfect lips. By the end, you were sure he’d feel the way your body was pulsing with need for him, all thoughts of Ryōmen out the fucking window.
“All done, angel. Tell me how you feel about it. If it’s good, and it looks damn good, I’ll put on some second skin and cash you out.” He says, standing up from his chair and stretching. Your eyes don’t miss his v line peeking out from his lifted shirt and you have to tear them away to instead look at your tattoo.
“Fuck, it’s perfect. God, yeah, I love it! Lemme just take a picture so I can post it and piss this asshole off before you wrap it.” You say and he chuckles.
“Mind if I take a few, too?” He asks.
Before you even realize what you’re saying, you respond, “What? For your spank bank?” By the end of the question, your eyes go wide and you mentally curse yourself out, about to apologize when he gives you a genuine laugh.
“No, angel, I won’t need a picture to remember an ass like that.” He quips back and you almost lose your breath. Without missing a beat, he picks up his phone and motions for you to take your picture before he takes his.
Once you do, you open your Lightroom app as he moves to take his pictures. It opens to a nude you’d put a filter on and you suck in a sharp breath, trying to exit quickly before he notices to no avail. He whistles and sucks his teeth and you immediately start to explain. “Sorry, I just like aesthe—“ He cuts you off.
“He’s definitely missing a few brain cells. You’re as good as it fuckin’ gets, angel.” He says, making your heart clench and stomach knot. “Y’know…” He leans forward. “There’s another way you can make him upset. I’m sure that picture’ll do the job, but don’t you wanna go above and beyond? I can help with that.” He says. You don’t miss his hand coming down to rest on the apple of your ass, making your core throb.
“I— how?” You ask, surprised your voice made it’s way out at all with how dry your mouth and throat are.
“Atta girl. First, you can let me bury my face between those pretty thighs of yours so you can take a picture, if you can even hold your phone steady, that is. Then, if you can think straight enough to still be thinking about him, I’ll make sure you can only think about how good I feel inside you. Maybe I’ll even record so you can send that, too. How’s that sound, angel?” He asks, thumb gently brushing the skin of your ass, voice smooth and sultry. You’re sure that with his voice alone, he could run a cult of people who’d do his bidding with no questions asked. And you’d be in it.
You nod at his suggestion, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes. He chuckles and leans forward, face inches from yours. “I don’t speak nod, pretty girl. Y’r gonna have to tell me out loud.” He says, his hand moving from your ass to grip your chin firmly enough to keep you looking up at him.
God, that statement alone makes your stomach do flips and, yet again, you’re breathless. “Yes, please yes.” You manage to get out, squeezing your thighs to try to alleviate the pressure between them.
“Good girl, using your manners.” He purrs before his lips mash against yours, earning a choked moan from you instantly. He tastes of cigarettes and mint, a flavor you find yourself more addicted to by the second. You feel his tongue flick against yours for just a moment before he pulls away and chuckles. “Been wanting to do that since you walked in. Been wanting to taste you, more, though.” He says, so you move to lay on your back, but he stops you. “Mm mm, don’t fuck my work up. All fours, angel. All fours.” He says, the command emphasized by him patting his hand on your thigh twice.
Doing as told, you rest your stomach against the cold leather and prop your ass up for him, your hands holding onto either sides of the chair. Your embarrassment at the knowledge that your thong is most definitely soaked is washed away when you turn your head to look back at Geto, seeing a prominent bulge straining against his jeans.
His large, ring-adorned fingers splay across your ass cheeks as he squeezes them, grunting. “Such a pretty ass.” He hisses, moving one hand to thumb at where he knows your hole is beneath your thong, pressing in just slightly to tease you, making you mewl out. “Shh, sweetheart. Unless y’want everyone outside to hear you, hmm?” He warns and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to shut yourself up.
His fingers curl around the waistband of your thongs and he slowly peels them from your sopping wet pussy, leaving them down by your knees. The cold air hits your core and your eyelids flutter closed as you try to stop yourself from shuddering. “So fuckin’ pretty. You this wet already, angel? All for me?” He asks, chuckling as he slips a finger between your folds, teasing you as he soaks his it in your syrupy slick.
“Mmph, yes… fuck…” You moan out, feeling the pad of his finger press against your clit, rubbing in small teasing circles. Your eyes open and you look back to see him palming himself over his jeans. Your brows knit together in a needy frown and you pout. “Suguru, please!” You whine, needing more from him.
“Please what, angel? Please taste you? Please fuck you? Please finger you? Gotta tell me what y’want.” He murmurs and the look on his face tells you he loves this. Loves playing with you like a toy. To your surprise, you love it, too. He smirks at you and circles your achingly empty hole when you take too long to answer. “Hmm?” He hums.
You try to push back on his fingers, hungry for more, but he withdraws them, instead sucking your slick from his fingers, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste. “Oh fuck, w-want all of tha— hnngh!” You cry out when he plunges a thick, ringed finger into your waiting hole. He shushes you and clicks his tongue, reminding you to keep your voice down. Nodding in response, you press back into his finger.
“Greedy girl. You’re gonna regret that later.” He says, beginning to pump his finger in and out of your cunt as he bends over and kisses all over one of your ass cheeks, then moves to get on his knees behind you. You can feel his breath on your slick folds and you want desperately to feel his tongue, your clit throbbing in need of attention. As though he reads your mind, he presses one quick kiss to it, grunting as your slick coats his lips. One swipe of his pierced tongue through your folds is all he needs to know he wants more. Much more.
You’re about to beg for it, too, but you feel his finger slip from your hole, being replaced by his long tongue, the muscle curving up and down and then swirling as if he’s trying to consume all of the slick you have to offer. Your fingers tighten on the chair, the leather squeaking in response. “Oh my God, S-Suguru!” You moan out, body shuddering in pleasure.
He pulls his tongue out to spit messily on your pussy, moving to finger you again, but this time adding two fingers. “M’gonna need to get you ready for me, ‘kay pretty girl?” He murmurs against your clit, earning a drawn out moan from you. You feel him remove his fingers and he replaces his lips with a harsh smack to your pussy that feels like pure electric pleasure. “Use your words.” He orders.
“Y-Yes! Fuck, yes…” You speak up immediately, eyes rolling back when he plunges his fingers back into you. You hear him hum in approval before his lips surround your clit again, sucking it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved and the sight combined with the pleasure makes your core tighten. His moans are muffled by you pushing back against his tongue. “S-Suguru, m’gonna—“
“Mm mm, baby, take that picture first. Gotta stay on task.” He tells you after breaking away from your clit to press sloppy open mouthed kisses on your thighs. You cry out a whine while your trembling fingers find your phone, lifting it to point it toward his mirror. You make sure to catch his face buried in your cunt when you snap the picture, making him grunt at the sound of the camera shutter. “That’s it, pretty, c’mon, cum… you can do that for me, right?” He coos and you feel him quicken his fingers inside you, the noises coming from your pussy absolutely fucking dirty as he does. His tongue starts flicking against your clit and the knot in your stomach snaps, your orgasm being clawed from you by this greedy man who pulls his fingers from your twitching hole to bury his tongue in it, lapping up your release.
You’re left panting when he finishes, eyes closed to stop the room from spinning around you. You feel his hands rub from the bottoms of your thighs up to your ass and he groans. “Fuck it, fuck the tattoo, need to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” He grunts, flipping you around roughly and pulling your thongs off the rest of the way, tossing them to the side, making you yelp.
You open your eyes to watch as his deft fingers unbutton and unzip his pants, his other hand finding your mouth, pushing between your lips. “Taste.” He tells you and you suck the slick off his fingers happily as he pulls his cock out, your eyes widening at the sight. Suguru’s long and thick. Your expression is obvious to him and he winks, pulling his fingers from your lipstick ruined lips to grab you by the chin. “You can take it, right? You’re a big girl.” He taunts you by running his length between your folds, his tip nudging your clit deliciously.
“F-Fuck I… I can take it.” You say, lying, but knowing he’ll make you take it. Thanks to your orgasm, his tip is coated in your slick and he presses it against your entrance, making you wince. His free hand grabs one of yours and he intertwines his fingers with your smaller ones, pinning your hand above your head while he kisses you hungrily, tasting of you. At the same time, his tip slowly pushes past the first ring of muscles inside of you, a shaky moan coming from your lips and flowing into his mouth.
He grunts as he invades your cunt inch by torturously thick inch until he bottoms out, your legs shaking in response. He moves to kiss your neck before bringing his lips to your ear. “That’s my fucking girl, so goddamn tight. Gonna fuck you so good angel, be good f’me, okay?” He whispers in your ear before he sucks on your earlobe, withdrawing his cock to the tip before his hips snap forward in one sharp movement, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.
He sets an unforgiving pace, his free hand holding one of your thighs up so he gets in at a better angle, his tip bullying your sweet spot with each thrust. Good was a fucking understatement, he was making you see stars. “Please don’t stop, ohmyfuckinggodddd!” You moan out, your bodies connecting violently, plap, plap, plaps echoing through his room.
His movements are so hungry, like he’ll never get enough of you as he moans at the feeling of your cunt trying to suck his soul from him. You feel him pull his fingers from yours and he stands straight, not letting up on his thrusts. You notice your phone now in his hand and the video capture sound plays, your face reddening. You can’t stop the way your pussy flutters knowing he’s recording now and he doesn’t miss it. “Such a slutty fuckin’ pussy, fuck! You like being on camera, don’t you, angel?” He asks, and you hide your face, nodding. That earns you one harsh thrust before he stills. “Mm mm, what’d I say about nodding. Thought y’were gonna be a good girl f’me?” He asks, making you whimper.
“Fuck, y-yes I like being on camera! Please keep going, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” You beg, snaking a hand down to try and relieve the feeling between your legs by rubbing your clit, but he smacks your hand away with the one that was holding your thigh before resuming his punishing pace.
“There you go, pretty, there you fuckin’ go. God, that ex is a fuckin’ lunatic, you’re SO. FUCKIN’. TIGHT.” He praises you, the last three words being delivered with snaps of his hips that push his cock so impossibly deep inside you that you were sure he’d rupture an organ. “Loo— ngh look, pretty girl. Look at me bulging you out like this.” He instructs, his hand moving to point at the spot below your navel that juts out every time his length is fully sheathed inside you.
You look down to see and your head immediately falls back at the sight, eyes rolling back, back arching off the seat. He rewards you by moving his hand back down to your clit, using the whole of his fingers to play with it in harsh motions back and forth and back and forth. “Mmm’fuck! Sugu, gonna cum, gonna c-cum!” You warn him, no longer giving a flying fuck if anyone hears you, you were too fucked out to think about it at all.
“Right behind you, angel. Where d’you want it, hmm?” He asks, earning a look of confusion on your dazed, fucked out face. “My cum. Where. Do. You. Want it?” He asks, accentuating the words with thrusts.
“H-hah! In-Inside! Please fucking cum in me, I’m cumming!” You moan, arms flying up to grip the head of the seat as your cunt clamps down onto his cock, loud squelches sounding out as you squirt all over him, making him groan and throw your phone on his counter, not bothering to end the video.
“Fuckin’ hell, m’gonna fill you up so good, shit!” He hisses, leaning forward and propping himself up on body fists, rolling his hips into you sloppily as his orgasm hits him and he shoots cum spurt after spurt into your greedy pussy that continues to spasm and milk him for everything he’s got. You notice strands of his hair have come free of his half bun and they tickle your face as he hovers above you, sweat beading on his forehead. “Fuuuck…” He groans, pulling out after a while of being buried inside you. It leaves you feeling painfully empty.
He watches as his cum starts to spill from your swollen cunt with a smirk, moving to finger it back inside of you, making you whine. He chuckles and grabs your thongs, bringing your legs back together so he can slide them back on you, patting your pussy when he’s done. “So you have something to remember me by on your way home. Actually… you trust me?” He asks and you’re too far into your mind to say anything but yes.
Before you know it, you hear him wash his hands and put on gloves before his tattoo gun buzzes to life. “M’gonna mark you so you don’t forget how deep I get. That okay, angel?” He asks and you almost nod until you remember his earlier commands.
“Mhm…” You hum out, earning a smile from him as he bends forward between your spread legs, tattooing a thick line under your navel with the initials ‘G.S.’ Next to it. You shake your head, still too blissed out to even realize that you traded your ex boyfriend’s name for a stranger’s initials. He wipes it clean and puts second skin on it, too, before he stands straight.
“Think you can stand well enough to get dressed?” He asks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. You stand from the chair, wobbly and definitely sore, but capable enough to put your fishnets, shorts, and Doc Martens back on. He marvels at you while you do so. Once you’re done, he grabs your phone and ends the video, going to your contacts and adding his number. He hands you your phone back with a grin.
You take it and follow him when he opens his studio door, suddenly feeling all of the eyes in the shop on you. You recognize a face there, now. Utahime’s standing, mouth agape, with Shoko and some white-haired drunk guy who’s also staring at you two with his piercing blue eyes. You find yourself hiding a bit more behind Geto as you walk to the cash register.
“Ring her up for seventy-five percent off. She already paid for the rest.” He tells Shoko as he winks at you. With that, he starts to walk away, but not before he turns to you one last time. “Remember, angel. We’re friends, now.” He smirks before heading back into his room, leaving you to pay.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
The next morning, you wake up hungover. You’re wearing your favorite Kuromi pajamas— a crop top and booty shorts. You walk into the bathroom, scrolling on your phone and starting to brush your teeth when you see a text to Ryōmen with three attachments. A picture of Geto eating you out, the video of him fucking you, and lastly… the new tattoo. You look at yourself in the mirror to see the line with his initials and your memory becomes clearer as you look at yourself in disbelief. “What… the fuck?”
#geto suguru#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen geto#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru smut#suguru geto#suguru geto x reader#suguru x reader#suguru geto x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk smut#jjk fic#jjk geto#jjk x reader
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Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!
Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^
✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;
cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour
I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.
His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.
Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao
He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.
If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.
Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj
I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.
Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.
Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.
I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol
I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!
He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟
I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee
Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???
Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up
#Gargling nails.... Jesse this one is for you /ij#Anyways!! This was supposed to be serious IDK what happened at da end gjsdg#Why are we building.... Where am I......#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#💖 — about ren.#🔞 — woohoo zone.#💜 — non canon.#<- Since you asked for headcanons and none of this really ends up being explicitly discussed in the game#Other stuff is just... General knowledge (if you've been around the blog for a while)#shitknot69#tw gore#tw torture#tw cannibalism#If y'all need me to tag this post with anything else please let me know!!
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florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡
warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.
divider creds here
ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks.
– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk
ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.
ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.
ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.
ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.
ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!
“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,
Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it.
ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!
“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”
Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff
ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.
Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL.
Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.
ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call.
ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do
“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”
Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself.
ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you
“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”
ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)
ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.
ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.
Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.
ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further.
“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”
Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.
“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”
ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.
“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”
ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her.
ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)
ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.
“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo
“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it
ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.
#💭ᜊ cher thinks#cherry writes 🤍#abby anderson#modern au#tlou2#abby anderson x reader#florist! abby#florist! abby x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby the last of us#abby x black! reader#abby x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x black!reader#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson headcanons#abby headcanons
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Bunch of Quickies
Caption #2: First Job out of Uni
My brain fired off some initial ideas upon seeing these pics, but I just cannot extend it, so here's a bunch of short captions that now have the chance to be unearthed from the depth of my draft
Caption #1: Morning
"Hey there sleepyhead, how's your sleep?" said the attractive guy sitting on top of the marble countertop sipping his morning coffee to the drowsy Gus
"Another form already, huh? What are you up to this morning looking like that?"
"Nothing, to be honest. Just want to look good and fresh, plus, it's nice to be fucking confident because you know you're one hot piece of shit,"
"Well, that's a spot on assessment about that dude. He jogged with the dog again this morning?"
"Different dog, but still shirtless as usual. Added this tattoo to his forearm, just copied it and heck it looks nice, guy really knows his body,"
"Ah, okay, so he's fucking different girl already now,"
"Yeah, but he can fuck a guy if he wants to,"
"Lee, calm the fuck down. This is still fucking early,"
"Well, for you, but for Wade here, it's quite late already. He already finished his running, eating his breakfast and about to hop into his shower. But the girlfriend is one kinky fucker, wanted to taste Wade's musty sweaty cock. Again, Wade prefers boys this time,"
"Oh come on, go clean yourself, will ya, let me have my morning,"
Wade/Lee just smirked and slapped his boyfriend's ass as he walked away to leave Gus to have his morning routine. After reading some news online and drinking his coffee, Gus walked back to his room to head to the bathroom as he's about to take a dump and clean himself. Then, walked another guy out from the bathroom, his expression tense and definitely hungry
"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"
Gus just sighed, Lee really love his roleplay.....
"Everyone will go nuts if I walk in like this," said Barry to the reflection of this random old DILF in the mirror, imagining the loud, borderline animalistic grunt and holler from the packed crowd of the Sticky Situation. Yeah, that's the name of the gay nightclub where Barry frequently danced and partied with his friends. But this will be a new experience for the 22 years old freshgraduate, his first job experience after uni turned out to be something beyond his wildest imaginations, all thanks to his hips that caught the attention of the nightclub manager, who found himself in sticky situation with his boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel. Reluctant to let Daniel go, and swayed by Barry's energetic presence on the dance floor, he concocted a plan to get the naive and horny freshgrad a chance for an upgrade of a lifetime, and of course Barry took that offer. Now, finger cross Barry will decide to stay permanently inside Daniel, that will make things much more easier so he doesn't need to find the occupant of his boyfriend-turned-bodysuit every few months or so.
Caption #3: Recluse Neighbor
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Ck, just how I thought. Well, it doesn't matter, in a matter of seconds, I'm about to be you, Mr. Bay,"
And just like that, the mostly reserved and barely sociable ginger lunged to get himself inside the body of his own neighbor that barely recognized him. Mr. Bay might not be rich or anything seeing that he basically lived in the same building as him, but everything beats living with his deadbeat alcoholic father and that devious cunt he's forced to call mom
Caption #4: Setting Things Right
I suggested them about the takeover ever since Mario shown me how to swap bodies with him by chugging those pills he stashed in his bedside counter. Maybe he trusted me or maybe he was just naive, but I still have no idea why Mario would willingly share such out-of-this-world possibility to me, a mere random hookup of his, as if everyone are bunch of saints that wouldn't take an opportunity to create a new life for themselves? During our third swap, I fucked him so hard using his own body, he started weeping as my hole never really found itself in such distressing lustful pounding. In his weakened state, face & body bruised and stamina drained from the whole mess, I decided to violate our terms & conditions, flipping him over to then proceed to facefuck him like there's no tomorrow. You should have seen his panicked stare and the way he tried to push me off as he realized what I was about to do, but as soon as the copious spunk hit his throat, the resistance ended and his eyes turned hazy as the cum sealed his fate to remain in my body while I took his body as my permanent residence, the swap somehow irreversible if someone came in the other's mouth or practically anywhere else except asshole, possibly indicating that the pills should not be tainted with cum when swallowed within specific time window.
The almost same case went on with Isaiah and Darnell, two of Mario's closest friend and frequent fuckbuddies, that found themselves now locked for good inside Leon, my Salvadoran best friend and Rei, my Japanese-American roommate. Both Isaiah and Darnell also have the same kink of getting fucked by smaller dudes, and when I explained to both big bottoms that the swapping pills would have extra effect if swallowed with cum for heightened senses (I advertised it as popper in pills form), they took Leon's and Rei's cum like some good submissive slut, inadvertently sealing their own fate to be trapped in the body that now preferably more fitting to their sexual desires. Talk about setting things right, because all 3 of us wanted to be older and stronger ever since we connected in college a couple years ago and these 3 daddies just wanted to waste their big bodies to bottom
Caption #5: Unexpected Swap
Frankie was sobbing in his bedroom after getting locked by his evil stepfather Darius after he found Frankie jerking off in front of his laptop to a shirtless guy in the other side of the call. To make things worse, Darius found his socks right next to Frankie's body, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust as he punished the 19 years old boy he viewed as mere burden and now, shame, to his name.
"You fucking faggot, I know you're just some up to no good failure, have some shame will ya? Worthless piece of faggot shit! Sniffing my socks too, getting off on my odor? God, you are disgusting!" Darius said, one of his rant in between the beatings
Frankie cried himself to sleep, both for the physical pain inflicted by his father that beat the shit out of him and also the mental anguish of thinking what would happen next after Darius arrived back. Of course he would never expect to found himself suddenly standing up in the middle of the gym, exasperated from the intense workout he just went through
Workout? Wha--- his thoughts came to a halt as everything started to get its footings. He's in the middle of the gym, feeling pumped, and the shirt.....this is unmistakably one of the shirts he usually found in the laundry room.....Darius shirt
As he looked down and then flexed his biceps to get a good look over his physique, he also started to feel the snaking blood rush to the monster he called his own now, the humungous cock attached to Darius's body. Oh he's about to have fun getting off directly from the source
#tf prompts#male possession#male takeover#male transformation#male muscle growth#male shapeshift#identity theft#neighbor possession#male body swap#male body suit
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Cheat Day.
Another request. I forgot if the person wanted to stay anonymous so I'll leave them out to be safe. Something different with it being third person, but it felt needed with the content.
TW: gangbang
***
Wonyoung was always expected to be perfect. Her days were filled with endless rehearsals, rigorous diets, and sleepless nights. She yearned for a life of freedom, where she could make mistakes and be herself. Her long awaited day off was under commencement–and mistakes were definitely going to be made.
Three of her most dedicated fans, handpicked by the dollesque idol herself, received a private DM from an unknown account with a time and address. They were apprehensive about the message, but the never before seen photos piqued their curiosity.
The room was dimly lit, the only sound being the soft hum of the city outside. Wonyoung, clad in a silk robe, stood before them, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She took mental notes on each one as they introduced themselves.
"Donghyun." She recognized him as a man who had been to nearly every concert and fan meet–his loud screams often heard over all the other fan chants. The messy haired boyish man looked like he just got off work. A disheveled suit with his tie loosely knit. Now that he was in such a private setting, he looked at her with an innocent admiration.
"Minsoo." The hottest of the bunch. His right arm covered in tattoos, his hair perfectly sculpted, but not greasy. He gazed upon her as if he already knew what she had planned. If the other two failed, she could depend on him for a good time.
"Junho." A recognized community member. Almost her whole fandom and group members knew of him. Her most dedicated fan. At every event, making sure to capture her in the perfect light. His fancams were the most popular, some even doing better than official recordings. A casual friendship had grown, and this was her way of showing her appreciation.
Her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, "Tonight, I'm not an idol. I'm not a performer. I'm yours, to do with as you please."
Junho and Donghyun exchanged astonished glances, their minds racing with the implications of her statement. They couldn't believe the woman they had idolized for so long would offer herself so freely. But Minsoo smirked expectedly.
Junho spoke up, "Wonyoung, we can't take advantage of you like this. You're an idol, and we're just fans."
Wonyoung's expression turned determined. "You can't deny me this. I've been living this life..always holding back, always being the perfect idol. Tonight, I want to be something else."
Donghyun joined in, "But you could ruin your reputation."
Wonyoung's voice hardened, "I don't care about my reputation. I want this. I want to be used, to be fucked."
She looked to Minsoo, her eyes pleading. She was right, she knew she could depend on him to get things rolling.
"If you're sure, Wonyoung, we can't deny you anything."
With a sultry smile, Wonyoung nodded, "I'm sure."
Minsoo undressed her slowly, untying the knot to her robe. She let it fall off her shoulders, the light from the window acted as a spotlight to her perfectly slender naked body. She was a tiny, delicate thing, but one with fire burning within her. The other two watched in awe as his hands roamed her body while his tongue explored her mouth.
He easily lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, his kisses trailed down from one pair of lips to her other. His hands were rough, their movements urgent and demanding.
"You cucks going to just watch or join in?" Minsoo aggressively berated the other two men into action.
Donghyun was the next to act, seizing this rare opportunity, kissing and touching wherever he pleased. Wonyoung moaned in pleasure as the two men grasped at her body. But she couldn't help but feel bad for Junho.
"Join us sweetie…" She called out to him. "... You can record this too if you like, just make sure you keep it to yourself…" flashing a sly smile.
That was all it took. Junho set up his camera, then joined in on the fun. He knew he would never get a chance like this again, and wasn't going to miss out.
Without another word, the three men moved in unison, Minsoo between her legs, Donghyun and Junho each taking one of her breasts in their hands and began to fondle them gently. Their thumbs brushed over her already sensitive nipples, sending shivers down her spine.
"Oh, god," she gasped, her head falling back as she felt a sudden rush of pleasure wash over her.
"Is that good, baby?" Junho asked, his voice filled with concern and desire.
She nodded, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Yes, it's so good."
As the men continued to pleasure her breasts, their hands moved in a rhythmic pattern that had her on the edge of ecstasy. Minsoo was gifted at his craft, his tongue danced against her wet folds.
"Oh, God," she cried out, her body trembling with pleasure.
His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure building with each pass. Wonyoung's breath caught in her throat as she felt the pleasure growing, spreading throughout her body until she was sure she couldn't take any more.
And then, suddenly, the pressure was gone, and she was left feeling empty and wanting.
"Please," she begged, her voice pleading. "I need more."
Minsoo smirked, knowing he had Wonyoung right where he wanted. He spread her legs wider, revealing her sensitive, throbbing clit to his waiting mouth.
"Oh, fuck," she gasped, her hands clawed at the sheets as pleasure washed over her once more.
Minsoo began to suck on her clit, his tongue moving in rhythmic, deliberate motions that had her body convulsing in pleasure. Then the final nail in the coffin, his middle and ring fingers dug into her wet quivering pussy. Squelching sounds echoed out with his fingertips constantly brushing her g-spot.
"You're gonna make me cum!" she screamed out, her voice strained and desperate.
Her body tensed; involuntarily trying to fight off the pressure that was overwhelming her system. But the other two held her down as they continued to explore her body. The pressure built in her stomach had nowhere else to go, a stream of sticky clear fluid shot out of her, her strongest orgasm in months taking over.
"Oh, god," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own pleasure. "It feels so good."
An orgasm that intense should've left her helpless, but this was her only night of escape. Her animalistic desires insatiable, she rose from the sheets, her thin body covered in sweat.
"I'm gonna ride your fucking cock."
Wonyoung demanded as she pushed Junho on his back. He watched as the idol he's fantasized about so many times slowly lowered her mess of pussy onto his cock. It was better than he could ever dream, so tight and so warm, he never could have imagined how good she felt.
"You're so tight." Junho cried out.
He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But it got even better, she planted her feet and started bouncing up and down. Her sopping wet pussy glided easily-massaging his shaft with her moist caverns. She screamed in ecstasy, the first real cock inside of her in months felt better than any toy–it was a living thing, with its heat radiating inside of her.
It was hard to know who was having a better time - Wonyoung finally letting loose or Junho feeling the tight walls of his dream girl squeezing his cock. She was lost in ecstasy, the feelings of hands on her body almost forgettable.
Minsoo was there to give her a stark reminder. Wonyoung gasped when a strong force pushed her forward, making her turn around in surprise. Then she felt something hard pressed against her asshole, the tight ring on her virgin hole clenched in resistance.
"What are you – AH!" Wonyoung cried out before she could finish her question. A predictable result. There were three men and she had an accompanying hole for each. But what she didn't expect was for it to happen right off the bat. No preparation; no fingers or toys - just Minsoo's hard, massive cock breaking past her defenses in one fell swoop. Drool started leaking from her mouth, the intense feeling of getting fucked from both ends beyond her wildest dreams. Cries of pain filled the room, Wonyoung stretched out further than she ever thought possible. You would think she begged for them to stop, that the pain was too much to bear...
"Fuck me harder!" She screamed out, the pain of being fully engulfed by cock reminding her that she was alive–washing away months of the stressful idol life.
It was a sight to behold, Minsoo aggressively fucked the blabbering idol. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he drove into her with relentless force. It was a stark contrast to Junho, feebly thrusting upwards trying to keep pace. Wonyoung moaned, her head flailing as she felt her insides being stretched and filled. But soon they got in sync, fucking and stretching out Wonyoung's body at perfect intervals.
"Is this what you want, you filthy whore?" Minsoo growled in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.
"Yes," she gasped, "Fuck me."
"Hey Donghyun, why don't you keep her quiet before the neighbors complain."
Donghyun was like a perfect little pet, listening to everything anyone told him. As he stood up and pressed his cock against her lips there was no hesitation. Wonyoung opened up her lips and sucked like it was a popsicle. Now she was truly filled, a cock in each orifice, her body being used for greedy desires. It was only right, she worked so hard to stay fit, it would be a shame to keep it hidden away and locked up.
Donghyun was perfectly content standing there while she sucked and licked. Wonyoung however was not, grabbing the back of his thighs and taking him deep in her throat–a jolt of pleasure blasting through him every time she let a muffled moan vibrate against his cock. Actions spoke louder than words, her desires clearly obvious. His hands tangled in her long hair, thrusting his hips, fucking her face with the intensity she craved.
As the men continued their relentless onslaught, Wonyoung felt her body being torn apart, her mind filled with pleasure and pain. She could feel the cocks pounding into her, stretching her, filling her completely. Her moans and cries filled the room, echoing off the walls as the men continued to use her.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum!"
Wonyoung was in no place to protest, a cock in her throat keeping her from replying. Nor did she want to, wanting nothing more than the feeling of hot cum filling her up.
"That's it," Minsoo grunted, "Take it all."
Minsoo was the first to concede–a thick stream of hot cum painting her insides. He slid out from behind her, her gaping ass leaking down to the sheets. He grabbed Donghyun, pulling him away. Wounyoung heaved in relief, finally able to breathe without a cock pounding her throat.
"Clean up my mess." Minsoo demanded. Wounyoung's relief was short-lived–opening up her mouth, happily sucking the cock that just took her anal virginity. Donghyun stared at her asshole with intrigue, kneeling down behind her. She smiled in response, feeling him pressed against her puckered hole. While her mouth was amazing, Donghyun longed to fuck something much tighter, and there was nothing tighter than Wounyoung's ass.
Junho had surprising stamina, his fingers biting into her sensitive flesh as he pinched and twisted her nipples. Wonyoung writhed above him, her body on fire with pain and pleasure. She could feel her own orgasm building, the pressure in her pussy and ass growing unbearable.
"I'm going to cum," she gasped, "Oh, God, I'm going to...ahhh!"
Her body trembled as the orgasm ripped through her, her muscles contracting as she was filled to the brim. That set off a chain sequence–her contracting body milking every shaft inside of her. Luckily for her, all the fans were just as insatiable as she was–knowing this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
She was tossed around like a ragdoll, her tiny body fucked in every position possible, her tight holes nothing but a dumping ground for cum. They were like a well oiled machine, switching positions and holes, making sure that she always experienced something new. The only time one of her holes wasn't being fucked was when they needed to recover. Donghyun and Junho grew bolder as the night went on, fucking her with a ferocity that almost matched Minsoo.
The men continued their assault, their grunts and groans filling the air as they emptied themselves into her. Wonyoung's cries echoed in the room, a plethora of hands and tongues covering every inch of skin–three cocks stuffed in her holes, giving her everything she could ever ask for. She was reduced to nothing more than a living, breathing, screaming orgasm.
The sun was starting to rise, and the men pulled out, their spent cocks dripping with cum. They stepped back, leaving Wonyoung sprawled on the bed, her body covered in sweat, her mouth, pussy, and asshole leaking with cum.
Donghyun was the first to leave, he had to return to work within the hour. Junho turned sheepishly shy, embarrassed at how he lost control fucking his bias, collecting his camera. She smiled at him knowing he would forever cherish that footage. Donghyun and Junho bowed when they left. Forever grateful for this experience their faces flushed with pleasure, their hearts filled with gratitude. They had experienced something that most could only dream of.
Minsoo stuck behind, his fingers buried inside Wonyoung until she forced him to leave. She thanked him for starting things right, pulling him in for one final kiss before he left.
Wonyoung laid there, panting and trembling, her body sore and aching. Forget dance practice, she would be lucky if she was even able to walk. But as she stared up at the ceiling, she couldn't help but smile - she had found a release she had been longing for, a release that would fuel her performances, her passion, and her life. She couldn't wait for her next day off.
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Tattoo artist!Eddie x body piercer! Reader who have a shit ton of sexual tension ✨ I’ve been on a tattoo artist!Eddie pick lately ahah
TATTOOED ON MY HEART
a/n: omg wait is tattoo artist!Eddie actually a thing?? how am I just learning about this???? time to go down a rabbit hole LOL. hope u enjoy; hopefully this isn't *too* much smut then u were expecting...
contents: tattoo artist!eddie munson x body piercer!reader. with the arrival of a new tattoo artist, eddie munson, at your tattoo and piercing studio, it's clear that the two of you have intense chemistry.
If it wasn’t for the new tattoo artist, Eddie Munson, who sits off to your right on one of the tattoo tables, you probably wouldn’t have had to move the piercing dot which shows where you’ll piece the skin so many times. His gaze has a way of making you feel unnerved.
“What if it hurts?” Robin, your freckled friend who sits underneath your touch on one of the tables, whines. Robin frequently comes in to the studio to get something new pierced, shamelessly taking full advantage of the discount you give to your friend.
You blow out between your lips, frustration brewing inside you. You never have had to move the piercing location multiple times; you normally get it right on the first try. This isn’t the first time you’ve pierced Robin, let alone pierced anyone, it’s what you do for a career for god’s sake. The only thing that’s changed is Eddie’s presence, showing itself as the cause for your mess ups. You hold the fine tipped marker in one hand, staring at Robin’s earlobe. “It won’t hurt, Robin, but if you keep wiggling and I end up stabbing your neck with the needle then that will definitely hurt.”
Off to the side, Eddie laughs while shaking his head. “That’s one way to reassure your client.”
You roll your eyes, not needing his advice on how to pierce someone, a task he knows nothing about as a tattoo artist - your crafts are completely different with very little overlap.
“He’s right, that wasn’t very reassuring.” Robin mumbles, looking down at her hands that rest in her lap. With her thumb, she chips away at her already chipping blue nail polish.
You toss a look at Eddie, a scowl brewing on your face. Though, the harsh look softens when your eyes connect with his, his big, brown eyes looking back at you. He raises his hands in defense, “I’m just saying.”
“Don’t you have some scary biker dude to go tattoo or something?” You retort playfully.
Eddie shrugs, a smirk on his face, making no attempt to leave. “Sure, a whole bunch of ‘em, but it’s awfully entertaining to watch you pierce.” He folds his hands in his lap, leaning back in his seat, his eyes trained on you.
Your stomach does a flip, your skin becoming flushed. You turn your attention back to Robin’s ear. You take a deep breath, steadying your hand to replace the dot on Robin’s earlobe. At last, you place the tip of the marker in a place that you feel satisfied with. You allow Robin to look at the new location, which she approves with a single nod. Taking the sterilized supplies, you line the piercing needle up with Robin's skin. "Take a deep breath and exhale on the count of 3."
Robin inhales, then exhales and after you count down, you take the opportunity to pierce the her skin with your needle. She tenses, hissing like a cat, then she relaxes. "How does it look?" she asks, glancing up at you.
You smile softly, stepping back to look. "Like I did an amazing job." Robin laughs, and lifts the mirror up to her face to get a look herself. You're too busy watching your friend admire your handy work, and she's too busy looking at herself, to notice that Eddie has approached you from behind, peering over your shoulder to get a look too.
"Amazing job, indeed." Eddie mumbles next to your ear. You jump slightly, an intense wave of heat creeping over your body. You clear your throat, side-stepping away from Eddie. You positively hate the way he makes you feel.
Robin glances up from her reflection, looking between you and Eddie. Her eyes meet yours and she raises her eyebrows, a questionable look on her face. You knew what she was thinking though: who is this guy?
After a minute, Eddie slinks off to another part of the studio, leaving you and Robin alone.
"Okay, are we going to talk about the obvious tension between you and that guy, or are we just going to ignore it?" Robin asks, cocking her head at you.
"His name is Eddie, and I'd rather not."
Robin groans softly, shaking her head. "It's obvious that he finds you attractive, y/n. And you aren't so slick with hiding your feelings either."
You frown. "What are you talking about? I don't like him, I barely know him. He's just the new tattoo artist for the studio."
Robin waves her hand in your direction. "Regardless, he's into you, since you can't tell that on your own." You roll your eyes, beginning to clean up your space. "Sure."
After Robin leaves the studio, quite pleased with her new piercing, you begin to close the shop. Eddie, who is finishing up a tattoo with one of his clients, still accompanies you in the studio. As another 30 minutes passes by, you sit in the back room, a magazine in your hand, as you wait for Eddie to finish. In the distance you hear the cash register beep, and the door bell jingle shortly after, signaling that Eddie's client is gone. Seconds later, Eddie enters through the back room's doorway.
The thing about Eddie is that he's gorgeous; tall, dark and handsome. The second the owner's of the studio introduced you to the new tattoo artist, you were smitten, though you were determined to not let Eddie catch on to that. Eddie, however, was a little more bold, in pretty much everything that he does. He's charismatic with the other piercers and tattoo artists that work alongside you both in the studio, and awfully friendly with his clients. His personality, coupled with his good looks, intimidated you and you find yourself sometimes shutting down in his presence.
"How'd the tattoo come out?" you ask nonchalantly, not looking up from your magazine. Your heart thumps against your chest, and you tell yourself to play it cool.
Eddie opens the fridge that's placed in the far left corner of the backroom, grabbing a glass bottle of coco-cola, and moves to sit across from you at the table. "Pretty good. He seemed happy with it which is all I can ask for as a tattoo artist." You hum, but say nothing else, simply flipping to the next page of your fashion magazine.
Silence takes over the break room and you find your mind wandering to what Robin said earlier: did Eddie really find you attractive? Curiosity takes over you, and you decide to test your friends theory. You bend your upper body forward over the table, leaning on your elbow, your chest on full view.
Eddie swallows, his eyes immediately diverting to your exposed chest. Similarly to you, Eddie found you attractive the second he met you, though when he attempts to flirt with you, he's met with sarcastic, playful banter. Nonetheless, he's committed to get to know you. He even believes you may like him too.
Eddie clears his throat. "Was that your friend you pierced today? You seemed to know each other more than just clients."
You nod. "We are very close friends. She appreciates the discount I give her so she comes to me for all her piercings." You glance up at Eddie through your eyelashes and are met with his gaze.
Eddie only nods, your eye-contact entrancing him. After a second, you look away, closing your magazine. "Well, I suppose we should close the studio. People tend to try and come in for a tattoo or piercing at the last minute if we don't make it look like we're closed."
You stand up, turning towards the sink that's in the break room as well, cleaning up some of the dishes and trash that has accumulated over the day and was left behind by the other employees of the studio.
Eddie, who's eyes are now trained on your backside, has the urge to test if his assumptions about you liking him are true. He's wanted to make a move on you for the longest time, so what's stopping him now?
Eddie stands up, moving around the table to stand beside you at the counter. Without asking, he jumps in to help, drying the dishes that you put on the rack to dry. There wasn't much cleaning to do to begin with, so with Eddie's help, the work is done quickly.
You angle your body towards Eddie. "Thanks for the help."
Eddie nods, a small smile on his face. "No problem." There's only a few inches between you and Eddie, and you can smell his cologne radiating off of him.
Without giving much thought, Eddie reaches out, his fingers working to brush strands of your hair away from the frame of your face, and tucking them behind your ear. "You're really pretty, you know that, right?"
You bite down on your bottom lip, your eyes diverting away from his gaze. In your lower abdomen, lust and attraction fills you fully, your heart beginning to thump against your chest again. "Thank you," you mutter.
Placing his finger up to your chin, he lifts your face and gaze to meet his. Instinctively, he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. You have no idea why, but as if he asked you to, you open your mouth, letting Eddie's thumb be engulfed by the wetness of your tongue and softness of your lips. His eyes widen, and he steps closer to you, closing the small gap that existed between you.
Time stops, allowing you to live only in Eddie's presence. He places his thumb on the thickness of your tongue, and you move your head back and then forward, letting his finger slide in and out with ease. Eddie's mind is filled with dirty thoughts about you on your knees, or legs spread wide open, your eyes locked on his.
You part your lips, letting Eddie's thumb slip out. He's quick to find another point of contact with you, cupping your face with his large hands, bringing your lips onto his. You sigh softly, the tension beginning to slip away. It's then that you realize how badly you've wanted this, how many times you pictured this very scenario while Eddie tattoos one of his clients in the booth next to yours.
Eddie's lets one of his hands wander down to between your legs and under your skirt, his fingertips grazing your cunt lightly over your panties. He wants so badly to just take you right there, against the backroom's sink or across the tabletop. But he refrains, wanting to take his time with you.
You sigh against his lips, your head leaning back in pleasure and anticipation. Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss the length of your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin lightly. You grasp on to his bicep, steadying yourself; his touch making you feel light-headed. Is this what you've been missing out on the entire time?
With his nimble fingers, Eddie moves your panties to the side revealing your slick pussy. His stomach twists at the feeling, realizing your wet because of him. Without a second thought, Eddie plunges his fingers into you and you part your legs further, letting him gain access easily. You shudder against his touch, the feeling of his fingers exploring you is euphoric.
You become breathless quickly, Eddie's rhythm working against your core making you sweaty and your knees wobble. Your moans become more frequent and louder, and you hope no potential customers enter the shop. "Fuck, that feels so good," is all you're able to say.
Your hips move back and forth against Eddie's touch, begging for more and more. Pleasure courses through your torso, your thighs beginning to tremble around Eddie's hand.
"I always thought that you may like me," Eddie mumbles, his lips dipping down to your collarbone. "I guess I was right." He curls his fingers in just the right way, stroking your most sensitive spot. Your mouth parts, and you reach behind you to grip the edge of the sink to keep your balance.
You screw your eyes shut, your breath becoming more rapid. Without you being aware, Eddie kneels in front of you, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Once you feel his lips and tongue on you, your hand darts down to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his hair.
Eddie's stomach twists; he wishes this this moment could go on forever. Eddie laps against you, each stroke of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. His tongue swirls, against your clit, a burning intensity growing in your lower abdomen. You whine, gripping the edge of the counter harder.
Eddie's hands travel up, holding your waist. One of your hands creeps down to your waist, your hand placing on top of his. You peer down at the same time that Eddie peers up, bringing your eye-contact together. His brown, puppy like eyes look up at you, sparkling against the dim lighting in the backroom.
Eddie pulls back away from you, his grip tightening around your waist. "Come for me," he says, moving back onto you.
Almost immediately, you finish, shuddering against Eddie's touch. You sigh heavily, the feeling of the pressure escaping your lower abdomen, bringing you relief. Eddie hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, pulling them up your legs as he stands up. Eddie, who is quite pleased with himself, wonders what his next move should be. He desperately wants to keep going, his cock still wondering what it would feel like to be buried in you, but he wants the tension between you and him to continue to grow. He wants nothing more than to make you wait, to pine for him until you need to crawl towards him, a burning desire to fill yourself with his cock.
You, however, are ready to go, your hands reaching towards the buckle on Eddie's jeans. Just as you begin to fumble with his belt, he grasps your hands in his.
You frown, wondering why he's stopped you. Doesn't he want you to touch him too? "I-I want to do you now," you say, your voice coming out low.
Eddie shakes his head, a daring look on his face. "Not now, not yet." His words leave you bewildered, wanting to ask a hundred questions. What does he mean, 'not yet'?
He steps forward, placing a light kiss on your cheek. You blink, wondering what is happening. "To be continued." He mutters, then slips out of the break room leaving you alone in the studio.
If there wasn't tension before, there's definitely tension now.
#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things
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Introduce characters
Here are some ways to introduce characters in a story
The Action Introduction, Jump right in by showing your character in the middle of something intense or important. It gives off instant vibes about who they are and what they’re about. It’s like giving the reader a sneak peek into their personality through what they’re doing. For example: "Maya’s sword cut through the air, slicing through enemies with a focused determination, her eyes sharp and unshaken." Right away, you get that Maya’s someone who’s got strength and doesn’t mess around.
The Dialogue Introduction, This is where your character’s words do the heavy lifting. Whether it’s through a deep conversation or an inner monologue, their personality and what drives them starts to shine through. Dialogue intros are super effective if you want to reveal how they think or what they care about. For example: "Leaning against a rain-soaked lamppost, James muttered under his breath, ‘Life’s just a bunch of missed chances, isn’t it?’" That one line tells you a lot, James might be cynical or disappointed, but he’s definitely reflecting on life in a big way.
The Physical Description Introduction, Sometimes, a look can say it all. Describing a character’s appearance in a way that stands out can give readers a strong first impression. But don’t go for the basic stuff, focus on something unique that makes them memorable. For example: "Her emerald-green eyes glittered with wisdom beyond her years, and her silver-streaked hair flowed like a river down her back." You’re already picturing this person in your head, and she’s not just any random character, she’s someone who stands out.
The Entrance Introduction, A grand entrance can make your character unforgettable from the moment they step onto the page. It’s dramatic, grabs attention, and makes people want to know more. Imagine something like: "The heavy doors swung open, and in strode a tall figure, cloaked in darkness, their presence sending a shiver through the room." Boom! That person just stole the spotlight.
The Symbolic Introduction, This is where you use an object, symbol, or even the setting to hint at who your character is without directly saying it. It’s subtle but can be powerful. For example: "As the sun dipped below the mountains, a lone figure stepped out of the shadows, leaving a trail of rose petals behind them." The rose petals could hint at something deeper about this character’s personality or past, giving the reader something to think about.
The Flashback Introduction, Flashbacks can be an intriguing way to bring a character into the story because they show a piece of their past that shapes who they are now. This intro style creates mystery and a sense of anticipation. For example: "Sarah closed her eyes and drifted back to that day in her childhood, the one that turned her into the tough, unbreakable woman she’d become." You’re left wanting to know what happened to Sarah and how it changed her.
The Contrast Introduction, This is a fun one because it plays with expectations. You set up a character to seem one way on the outside, but then reveal something totally different going on inside. It creates curiosity and keeps readers guessing. For example: "With his muscular build and tattoo-covered arms, Jake looked every bit the tough guy, but the way he cradled the baby bird in his hands showed a heart full of kindness." That twist in perception hooks readers and makes them want to know more about Jake’s story.
#writing#writing tips#character development#writer tumblr#writer on tumblr#oc character#writblr#introducing my ocs#creative writing#write#writer stuff#writer community#writerscommunity#writers on tumblr
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@rosekillermicrofic || word: teeth, sunset, attack || word count: 862
Evan grit his teeth from across the room. He looked Barty through narrowed eyes as he planned his attack. His wand in his hand, he knew he could beat Barty.
Barty was younger than him. He skipped a grade this year. While Evan had to go through his first year, Barty got sorted into Ravenclaw and got promptly moved to second year. This was the first time he ever really looked at Barty.
It annoyed Evan to no bounds. He hated how he was the smartest in second year, and now that could all change. He gripped his wand, aiming it at Barty as the defense against the dark arts professor counted down from 10.
Barty, Evan realized, was shaking. All thoughts of hate left his brain as instead of the genius, he saw a scared kid going up against someone more than a year older than him. It wasn’t even halfway through the year, of course Barty was scared.
The professor reached 0, and Evan released a string of spells that all got blocked. Evan furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t understand how an 11 year old kid could be this good. In a moment of thoughtfulness, Barty let out a disarming spell. Evan’s wand flew from his hand as he looked at Barty in wonder.
He cocked his head to the side. That’s where Evan’s obsession started.
Since Barty was now in Evan’s year, he became easier to see more often. They had classes together occasionally, and would see each other at breakfast and dinner. One evening in their 5th year, Evan called Barty over to their table.
Barty hung out with Pandora Rosier most of the time. Evan’s sister. Evan would ask her about him.
Barty looked around before eyes settling on Evan. He raised one of his eyebrows and Evan nodded. Barty got up from his table, whispering to Pandora, who grinned at Evan.
Barty approached where Evan and Regulus were sitting, standing still. “Aren’t you going to sit?” Evan asked.
“Oh. Yeah.” Barty said, taking a seat next to Evan.
“So I heard you’re in-“ Evan started.
“Why did you call me over here?” Barty asked, looking down at his plate. “Look, if you’re going to hex me or something, the great hall wouldn’t be the best place to do it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Evan laughed. “I called you over here because you look interesting and I want to know more about you.”
“Oh,” Barty said dumbly. “Okay.”
Evan rolled his eyes and began to shovel more food in his mouth.
“No way,” Barty scoffed, flicking a piece of candy into his mouth as he sat on Evan’s bed.
Evan sat on the floor, a needle and tattoo ink in his hand. “Yes way,”
“You’re insane, man” Barty grinned, sitting up. He looked at the stick and poke that Evan was poking on to his waist.
‘Barty Crouch Jr.’ it read.
“I want one,” Barty whined, getting up from his spot and sitting next to Evan.
Evan nodded, turning to him. “What do you want?”
“Your name,” Barty said.
“Just because I got yours doesn’t mean you have to get mine,” Evan scoffed. “What do you really want?”
“Your name,” Barty told him again. “We’re…best friends, right?” He asked, looking at Evan nervously.
Evan squeezed Barty’s knee reassuringly. “That we are, Bee.”
Barty smiled a smile so very different from his usual crooked grin. Something sweet. As Evan tattooed his own name on to Barty’s pale skin, he could feel Barty’s eyes on him. “Can I tell you something?” Barty whispered. Evan had spent so long trying to get him away from the scared 11 year old boy, but he was back again.
“Anything,” Evan told him, eyes focused on his skin.
“I think I like guys.” Barty said quietly, almost ashamed.
“Like- you’re queer?” Evan asked. He looked up to see Barty nod. “Me too.” He admitted.
Barty slowly smiled. “Look at us, a bunch of gays,”
Regulus groaned from the bed. “Guys, please shut the fuck up im trying to sleep, it’s 3 in the morning.”
Evan really wasn’t ever planning on falling for Barty. He meant more to take him under his wing and show him how fun it was to not be scared of anything. But now, as he sits and watches Barty in class or at dinner or playing quidditch, there’s a feelings in his chest that burns. He wants to have Barty in his veins. He wants Barty’s blood in his own. He wants Barty.
He craves Barty. Barty sleeps in his bed most nights, sometimes switching to Regulus’s. One night as they settled in right after sunset, Barty looked at Evan with a soft expression on his face.
“Ev?” Barty put into the air.
Evan hummed, his hands running along Barty’s arm, up to his neck.
Barty’s breath hitched as he looked in his eyes. “Ev,” He repeated, softer.
Evan’s hand on the back of Barty’s neck pulled him closer. As they could feel each other breath on their face, it quickened.
Barty cut the space in between them, pressing their lips together.
july 25,26,27 prompts all together
#evan rosier#barty crouch junior#barty jr#barty crouch jr#rosekiller#rosekiller microfic#regulus and evan and barty#regulus and barty#regulus black#pandora lovegood#pandora rosier#dorcas meadowes
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Hey I was wondering if I could make the request of an Aonung x human reader who has a bunch of norse tattoos and he's curious about them?
(Adult Ao'nung by @cinetrix2)
Pairing: Ao'nung/Human!Reader (can be seen as platonic)
Warnings: Cute. Fluff. Aged-up characters. Reader can be seen as gender-neutral since gender is not mentioned.
Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @alinacecee
A/n: I hope you know that by making this request, it got me thinking of getting another tattoo. When I started writing this, I ended up going to a friend's house the same night and begged her to give me an Avatar tattoo. Pic Here.
~~~~~~~~~
With Jake and his family as full-fledged Metkayina now, the reef people have slowly become accustomed to human allies coming and going from their island whenever Toruk Makto gives them a call.
As the years progress, both species actually begin to mingle a bit, and eventually, a small, human settlement finds its way to Awa'atlu. You were the first to live on said settlement, assigned to it by Norm because both he and Jake agreed that your expertise belonged on the island and the Metkayina have grown to know and trust you.
Among those who have gotten to know you were none other than the olo'eyktan's son, Ao'nung. And while it was clear that the two of you were friends, there was still a mystery about you that he had not yet discovered, and that was your physical appearance, specifically your tattoos.
You had several, more than anything Ao'nung had seen on Sky People before, and that was just the tattoos he could see peeking out from beneath your clothes. While some of your ink kind of resembled Ao'nung's, he noticed they took different shapes and didn't have any Na'vi significance that he knew of. Regardless, your tattoos were a small part of why the Metkayina trusted you more than other human allies, simply because you visibly had something in common with them, and he often wondered if yours bore any sort of significance like his does.
"Do all Sky People have tattoos?"
Looking up through your breathing mask, you catch Ao'nung's curious gaze while sitting comfortably in the sand as you work on identifying a rock for your research. Looking back down at your datapad, you reply, "No. Not all."
"Do they only get them when they're of age?"
"No, we usually get them whenever we feel like it," you snort, recalling getting your first one at seventeen, despite the laws stating you needed to be eighteen where you lived at the time. Your mother nearly fainted.
Ao'nung frowns in disbelief, "So there is no meaning?"
"Some tattoos have meaning. Others don't."
"What about yours?"
Your smile is genuine, beaming in a way one does when talking about their favorite interests, "Mine resemble my heritage. Where I come from."
Watching the confusion only grow on the young Na'vi's face, you further explain by pointing out your tattoos, starting with the key-like shape inked into the front of your neck, "It's a Nordic rune. It represents perseverance."
You then peer down and present your arm to Ao'nung, pointing out the tattoo on the inside of your forearm, "Vegvisir."
The word that left your lips sounded so strange to Ao'nung, his ears instinctively twitching at the pronunciation. Looking down at the tattoo on your arm, observing the intricate line work before peering back up at your face, he waits for you to explain the significance, and you do,
"It's meant to appear as a wayfinder. To help the wearer not get lost and find their way home. It's a symbol of protection and guidance."
Your hands then reach up to the collar of your shirt and pull it down to reveal one of your favorite and more prominent tattoos. Ao'nung's eyes widen at such wonderful artwork. At the center of your collar, just above your heart, was the picture of a beautiful, intricate tree, the branches meant to twist and form Celtic knots into the ink, the roots of the tree running down your sternum and disappearing into your shirt.
"This is Yggdrasil."
"Eggdrazil?" Ao'nung felt his own tongue knot itself just trying to properly pronounce the word, but even he could admit it sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.
"No," You laugh lightly while slowing it down pronouncing it to the best of your ability in a Na'vi accent, "IG-drah-sill. It's the Tree of Life. I'm not sure how else to explain it without sounding preachy or confusing, but... it's kind of like your people's Spirit Tree, in a way."
His eyes widen with surprise, staring down at the tree tattoo with newfound fascination at the idea that a human culture could be so similar to his own. Slowly reaching out, his fingers press into the ink on your collar, and you stubbornly stay still, refraining from the pleasant shiver that threatened to run down your spine at the contact.
Inspecting the tattoo with both his fingers and his eyes, Ao'nung finds himself thinking out loud, muttering under his breath, "They almost resemble what a warrior would wear."
You find your smile unapologetically twitching with amusement, "Well, technically, that's exactly who my ancestors were. Warriors."
Ao'nung's curious eyes finally meet yours again, excuding confidence, "And you as well."
Your smile melts into something more genuine, "And me as well. Just like you."
His lips curl into a smile of his own.
~~~~~~~~~
MASTERLIST
RULES
REQUEST
#ao'nung#ao'nung x reader#aonung x reader#aonung#ao'nung fluff#ao'nung x you#aonung fluff#ao'nung imagine#aonung imagine#atwow#avatar the way of water#avatar 2#atwow imagine
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“brutal”
PAIRING: neighbour! badboy!harry x innocent!reader
SUMMARY: you are tired of your image of an angel. you want to be a disappointment and your incredibly hot neighbour is happy to help you get spoiled.
SYNOPSIS: you’re a bad idea but i like bad ideas
NOTES: i plan it as a bunch of blurbs. like different times when harry helped reader to get spoiled. if you’ll like this concept i’ll think about writing a whole story or i’ll continue writing blurbs about neighbour! harry. it’s up to you. anyway enjoy!
WORD COUNT: 716
my masterlist
“No, angel, i’m just telling you that you’re too sweet for this shit”
“Stop calling me that! I’ll pay you for this, how much do you want?” you start taking money out of your bag, counting the bills. “Or are you like a guy from books? You want a kiss or a good fuck?”
“Actually that’s a good idea, I didn’t think about that” he laughs. “I don’t want to be a boy who will spoil a good girl, you know?”
“I want you to be that boy. I don’t know who can i ask for this except you. Please, help me. I’ll do anything”
“Anything?”
“Anything”
“Alright, come in”
How did you end up in this situation? That’s easy to explain. Harry is your incredibly hot neighbour who you think is the perfect bad boy. He is a disappointment and you want to be a disappointment too.
For your whole life you were known as a nerd, as a good girl who never smokes, never drinks alcohol and never goes out with guys. I mean isn’t it boring? Constantly hearing that you will never do anything wrong. Obviously you wanted to prove the opposite, but didn’t know where to start. That’s when you met Harry.
Harry had just moved into the apartment opposite and you noticed him immediately. His appearance literally screamed that he was a bad guy. Then you found out that he makes money from fights without rules. And sells weed. And makes parties every weekend. Definitely a good guy.
“So what do we have? You want to be bad, to prove that you’re not a good girl, right?” Harry sits down in a chair and looks straight into your eyes. you are standing at the door, not knowing what to do. your heart is beating too hard, your hands are shaking with excitement. “Don’t be shy, come sit here”
“Where? In your lap?” Actually you can’t say you are against this idea. Quite opposite. What can you say? He is straight from the books. Like Hardin Scott from After. Those arms, tattoos, green eyes. God, if you weren’t a virgin you wouldn’t be so shy. Maybe, just maybe you could offer him yourself but you aren’t in a book. You can’t do this because for him it will be just a one night stand and for you it will be something more than a sex.
“Cute. Only if you want though” harry grins. It makes him laugh how sht you stand in place, not knowing what’s going on with you. “Sit on a couch. Gotta make a deal with you”
you nodded your head and sat down on the couch, away from Harry. Lowering your head down, you begin to twitch your fingers, trying to stop the trembling in your hands.
“What do you want in return?”
“A promise” he simply says
“What promise?” you ask in surprise, not knowing where he is leading.
“if you are bad for others, I want you to remain good for me.”
“what do you mean?” You tilt your head down in confusion, eyes widening.
“you’ll understand later”
Harry grins. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you.
part 2
Don’t forget to reblog and share your thoughts! x
if you want to be tagged in the next blurb, please write in the comments. also try to guess what’ll be next part about:))
#harry x yn#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#ceo harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles
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Okie your right bestie now that your ask box is open you have to do the avatar guys reacting to spicy body piercings. Neteyam, Roxto, Ao’nung and Lo’ak I AM BEGGING YOU
/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡
a/n: Head so empty had to get this out though bc two other people agreed tongue ring was chefs kiss. We have a bunch of ancient cultures who pierced their tongues ritualistically so the Na’vi probably do it
Pairing(s): Ao’nung x reader, Neteyam x reader, Roxto x reader, Lo’ak x reader
word count: Little under or ~1k for each character
warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Characters are 18+, Spice under the cut, all characters are 18+, proceed with caution. Descriptions of sexual activity, Alludes to fallacio, Sexual situations, Vulgar language. Inspecting? They’re looking inside your mouth idk. Spit kink (Neteyam), idk man if there’s something i miss lmk
꧁ Aonung: is no stranger to bodily modifications. He can confidently say he did not love the feeling of being tattooed the way some of his aunties and uncles would swear they did. He didn’t brag that he could fall asleep though the pain of ink being malleted security into his thick skin. Which is why for a second Aonung cannot seem to comprehend how his squirmy little girlfriend could have sat through such an ordeal, cringing at the pang of jealously that rises in him at the idea that others would have the same foul thoughts regarding the adornment that he has.
One of his favorite places to be is the netted hammock that sways outside of his marui. He enjoys the cooling sea breeze through his downed hair while watching the waves dance in the wind. Mindlessly keeping an eye out for anything that may intrigue him. It was undoubtably a good place to be whenever he found himself to be stressed or tired. Even better- it was a peaceful place to relax with you. He can agree to himself that he liked this spot even better when your legs straddled his waist and he got to rub loving circles onto your body with the pads of this thumbs while you joined in on his sea gazing. Its only when you shift on his torso that he realities thoughts had wondered past the words you were speaking. It was not often that you would loose his devoted focus, however, he realized he was not really listening to you as you spoke. Not in a cruel or inattentive way way. He did not mean to disregard you. He was just too distracted at the soft slur you give off. That was different. He has spent so long grasping at every word you said- every noise to fall from your perfect mouth. So he knows that there is something wrong.
“You break a tooth?”
He knows he is rude for cutting you off and even ruder for jostling you up as he sits up slightly in worry. Evident concern that you had fallen or bit into something and broken a tooth and that is where the slur of your words came from. That you were in pain. Though it had been some time since the incident, he remembered when Tsireya’s best friend had faced a similar ailment and his mother had been forced to pull the tooth from her skull. He shuddered remembering the ordeal, and hoped you would not go though the same pain.
“Nuh-uh,” you assure rubbing a hand against his soft cheek, eyes softening in endearment at his worry.
Your sweet boy is sitting up further to move closer to you in query when you greet him with the sight of your pretty wet tongue sticking out past your soft lips. The prettiest adornment nestled on your tongue makes his lower stomach twitch. You can’t help but pull yourself back a bit in surprise at the sight of his imposing form sitting up quicker then you expect him to. The natural reflex of your body as he adjusts your position in the hammock you were both meant to be napping on. Your movement only results in his thick calloused palms making a firm grasp for your cheeks, holding your face steadily in front of him for his viewing pleasure,
“Open your mouth.”
He’s bossy, and for a second you worry he absolutely hates it and will instruct you to remove it once you give into his demand. The thought alone is what keeps you from listening to him quick enough for his liking. Which is probably why once your lips finally start to part again his pointer finger is quick to hook over your lower teeth, pulling your jaw open so he could inspect you once again. Not giving you a choice in closing your mouth once again.
All you can do is peer down at his inquisitive eyes that seem to be judging the very ivory of your teeth and whine at how intently he is staring down your welcoming throat. He does not mean to look so incredulous as he inspects your wet mouth. Your tongue is swollen and the intrusion of his long finger has your salivary glands working overtime coating the little ball in you saliva. You look perfect on his lap, spitting all over his finger as it hooks your jaw wide open for him. He only removes the binding finger from your mouth when he inquires,
“Who touched you?”
You’re confused for a second, not realizing he means the piercing until the pad of his finger caresses the tip of your tongue careful to avoid the sore center. He can’t help but wonder what burly large man had touched your pretty fleshy tongue that belonged to him. He feels terribly for the anger that bubbles at the thought of said man getting to see you sat obediently, mouth open and waiting. He could only imagine what thoughts they had as your big pretty eyes stared at them while they made a new hole in your body. As if you mean to scorn him you only giggle. You giggle at his jealousy, and though it should vex him more he can’t help but feel soothed at your reaction,
“Your mo’ther,” you giggle and the material clinks against your teeth, and you slur over a too long bar that accommodated for the swelling.
It soothes him a little. His mother- your mother- had pierced you and not one of the men he had known with said job. Now the only issue at hand was the fact that he was sure other men would see it and have the same first thought that had crossed his own mind.
“It was for Eywa,”
The holy name cuts him from his unholy thoughts. He instantly meets your words with his objurgate simper that you’re used to. A unique expression that conveyed a playful scold that he knew was sure to leave you putty in his hands.
“Nah, you know better. That’s there for me,”
His words make your face flush a pretty shade of plum and you find it increasingly hard to look up at him. It’s endearing to him really, your cheek warm against his open palm. He runs the finger covered in your spit against your bottom lip,
“Ya, can’t wait till it heals. Gonna feel real good when you gag on my cock, huh tìhona?”
꧁ Neteyam doesn’t really care what you do to your own body. It’s your own body; how could he possibly tell you what to do with it. Besides the fact that he thinks it was cute how brave you were for sitting though it, he can’t help but find the way you toy with it annoying. Neteyam still thinks it has its own unique charn though.
Neteyam is too aware. It’s probably why he struggles so much to relax. Something always draws his attention, and he can’t stop his brain's desire to hyper-fixate on it. For this reason Neteyam is well aware of your tongue ring. In your defense he was aware of the adornment from the beginning. He knows so much about it as he was there as the sharpened point was pushed through you outstretched tongue while his mother howled in laughter at the way your tail extended out in shock at the pain.
In all honesty, he has rarely caught a glimpse of the jewelry since you had done it. Despite your loud mouth, the jewelry stayed relatively hidden behind your ivory canines. he guesses you just don’t open your mouth that wide. It’s a shame he doesn’t get the luxury of just catching a flash of the adornment. Instead, he lays here on an old roll-out woven mat, basking in the warm sun with you draped across him. It should be a calming ordeal. Yet you preoccupied yourself with rolling your tongue ring across the ridges of your teeth with no regard for the safety of the bones.
This is supposed to be relaxing. That was the point of coming out here to nap away from the intrusions of your families and burdens of society. As much as laying with you is meant to calm his ever-increasing nerves the fact that the clank of your tongue piercing gliding across your teeth in some sort of stim is ever present and driving him up the wall.
“Cut it out,”
His voice comes with a bite to your fleshy cheek which makes your eyes blink open. You pass him a displeased glance from where you lay next to him.
“Why? Am I irritating?”
You ask him so sweetly that if he had not been so sleep deprived he would have assured you that you were perfect and nothing you could do would ever vex him,
“Very. I’ll rip that thing out of your mouth,”
You laugh because he sounds exactly like his mother, yet had the same scolding undertone his father had often taken on. He is almost pleased with you when he feels you roll over half onto him, thinking you had accepted defeat and would settle down for seep. Relishing in the feeling of you tossing one of your legs over his waist and propping yourself up on one elbow to quickly cuddle against him. His sweet purr as you run your fingers through his braids swiftly almost makes you feel bad for the fact that you lean down to run your wet muscle from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his cheek. It is almost scary how slowly his eyes open. He cannot even feign shock at the way you play with him and his dwindling patience. It is ridiculous- you are ridiculous. Yet you are still shocked (and delighted) at how quickly Neteyam is hooking his leg around yours and rolling the both of you over so your back presses firmly to the mat behind you in retaliation for your annoying actions.
“Does being a imp bring you satisfaction?” He asks, though there’s no indication of real annoyance.
You grin up at him so pretty too, he can’t help but appreciate your mouth. The plush of your soft lips, and the shine of your ivory teeth,
“Undoubtably!” you chip,
And then his thumb runs across your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so he can look at the red of your gums.
“Open your mouth, annoying girl.” he huffs down at you.
Though you intend to listen to him he does not give you the time too. Squeezing your cheeks between his freed palm until you have no choice but to part your lips for him. With your leg wrapped around his waist your foot rests on the small of his back and you can feel the muscles of his lower back flex as his tail flicks between his legs in excitement at the sight. As you loll your berry-fleshed tongue out for him he wastes no time in returning the crude indecency of your previous actions to you. You’re not dumbfounded when his spit lands on your waiting tongue, but you do jerk under him with a huff. Nonetheless, you are so good for him still, waiting for him to smile and give you a slurred go-ahead before you swallow.
Neteyam guesses he likes the stupid thing. Gives him something to aim at.
꧁ Roxto is shy. Not with normal people. But when you speak to him so pretty him he can’t help but tense up at the way his mind wanders. Especially as you sit there blabbering about your home in the jungle, she should be listening but he’s too busy eying the piercing in your tongue and wondering what it would feel like on him.
Rotxo is sweet. So sweet that he feels terrible for the way he stares at your mouth from where he is lent opposite on a thick mangrove root while you speak. Chirping away at him because you had grown the closest to him out of everyone after your arrival.
Don’t get him wrong. He could spend his whole day and whole night (and whole existence) with you. He liked nothing more than sitting pleasantly next to you or with his head on your lap while you spoke. He had been thankful for the fact that you had gotten the closest to him out of anyone you could have chosen when your family arrived at his home. He truly thought you were the most interesting person he had ever met. Perhaps that is why he watches you so intently. As if he is worried he will miss even a fraction of what you had to offer. He felt like he had known a decent amount about you. Knew you well enough that he could predict what you would say before you had even said it. Which is probably why he is so eager to get his question out.
“What is in your mouth?”
He just faces the nalutsa head-on. Blurts his question out; almost cutting your sentence off early. Once your eyes snap up to meet his from where you picked at stones on the ground. Your tongue is rolling out of your mouth in response as you stand to face him,
“This?”
Of course you sound silly as you talk around your tongue, but Rotxo is just looking at the modification. His first question is did it hurt, and you gave him a deadpan ‘obviously’. Despite this, you seem to be far more interested in this line of questioning than you had been while you were rambling. Ears are drawn forward in his direction, arms behind your back while your tail twirled behind you.
When he asks why you would do such a thing (despite having tattoos himself) you tell him it was a thing some of the more spiritual people of your clan would do. He could not help but feel a little guilty at the fact that all he can think about is how it would feel twirling around the head of his cock. How pretty you would look sitting on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to paint the shiny little adornment white. He doesn’t even realize that his eyes are trained down on you, and his tail sways between his legs.
But you notice. You notice the way he relaxes on his arms more. How his pretty sea-foam green eyes relax as he maintains tantalizing eye contact. The fact that his ears are drawn back, his jaw is clenched and his tail thumps slightly against his own leg, dragging across the ground behind him would be evidence alone of where his thoughts had traveled to. The thick bulging at the brown fabric of his tweng however seals his fate. You giggle at him. If all it took to work him up was a flash of your tongue then you will surely be the death of him. He is not even listening to why you had done it, what it meant. Ignoring all talks of salvation so he could look down at you and think of what you could only fantasize about.
“Ya, but you do not really care why I got it, huh?”
Your question catches him off guard, mostly because you are right and he’s too busy thinking about you to notice that you had once again begun to ramble. He is terrifyingly intrigued when your moving to stand right in front of him, head cocked up curiously at him, an amorous smirk on your lips.
“You just care about what I can do with it.”
Like the tease you are, you glance down at his hips. It is only then he realizes how tight the confines of his bottoms had gotten.
“You really are a devil huh?” His fingers are digging into the bark of the root he leans on as he huffs out the only thing he could think to say. He supposes there was no honor in hiding anything now- to bashfully try and defend the situation. That pretty tongue of yours sliding past your teeth to lick across your lips,
“If you want a vrrtep I can show you a vrrtep,”
Your voice is charmingly playful, and he can hear the click of the ring against a tooth. As your fingers dance across his lower stomach you’ve all but convinced him to be at your mercy with no effort. When you wordlessly drop to your knees before him he cant help the noise that ripples through his chest. Parts of him buckle at the idea of letting you be in charge and show him more of that pretty tongue ring but he can’t help but be honorable. Try to gain some sort of dominance. He thought he had gained the upper hand when at the contact of one of his big palms to the back of your head. The assumption was foolish of him. To think for a second he had the upper hand. The feeling of the cool material on your tongue sliding up his thigh has his fingers knotting in your hair and his breath coming out in huffs. He thinks it’s perfect- you’re perfect. He can’t wait to feel it everywhere.
꧁ Lo’ak doesn’t mean to not notice really, you were both so busy. You should take it as a compliment how hard he focuses on your eyes when you talk. But when he finally catches on that somethings different about you and you show him he can’t help but get too excited.
You were Lo’aks very best friend. In fact, you could not recall a point in life where he was not at your side while your gaggle of friends got into mischief. In all honestly you had spent your childhood following Lo’ak around like his shadow, and it is a habit that has followed you into your adulthood. You know he is plagued with an overabundance of energy and thus kept you entertained the best. Lo’ak was many things- emotionally aware, compassionate, charming, and with no effort made you feel alive. He’s probably why you were a bit of an adrenaline junky, and why you so eagerly agreed to the modification to your body after your Uniltaron. There was some reason behind the bleeding that you did not quite know if you cared about more then the fact that there was a cool piercing in your mouth.
Most importantly, you had hoped Lo’ak would have noticed the piercing quickly, however, the fact that Lo’aks own Uniltaron was the day before yours and he (like his father) had an intense experience, meant that you had uncharacteristically been apart for what you considered too long. Lo’ak had spent the days in which your tongue was at its most swollen (and thus noticeable) resting at home. Though you had been plagued with your own duties which made any meaningful interactions between Lo’ak and yourself non-existent since then. This meant that he just hasn’t noticed the new addition to a body he was rather familiar with. The lapse in time spent together was not something either of you had been used to, nor particularly fond of.
Which is why Lo’ak is blabbering to you wildly while you both eat your supper. You think he’s cute despite talking with his mouth full, and your dazed staring is what pulls Lo’ak out of his excitement and forces him to stare back at you. It is when he noticed you’re eating lighter than usual.
“Soup? It’s too warm for soup,” his tone indicates it’s an astute observation in his mind, “Are you sick?” He asks, reaching to touch your head. You snicker at him as you smack his lingering hand away,
“No, skxawng- you really hadn’t noticed?”
The playful faux sadness in your voice still barbs at his heart. It is quickly replaced with an indescribable feeling when you open your mouth for him and he’s greeted with a heart-stopping view. Eywa you were pretty, and for a second you looked like you could really be his- looking up right at him with your mouth wide open. It’s innocently possessive for a second, really he hadn’t thought too much into why he had reacted to the view in such a way. That was until he noticed the little ball perched on the center of your tongue. Like the little stones they found in the river mollusks they used as jewelry.
“Oh shit!”
His response makes you shut your mouth and snicker while your tail wags faster than you had been used to. You even turn your head in to avoid his ardent eyes. Though Lo’ak is quick to brace his hands on the wooden table to lean over and follow your gaze,
“I wasn’t done- hey,” and when he pinches your cheeks in his hand he almost knocks over your soup with the enthusiasm he exudes.
“You are acting like a fool,” your smiling half out of amusement, half out of pure inarticulate flabbergast at how quickly he had become interested in the orifice.
“Does it hurt?” He questions.
If it’s possible his smile grows larger at the shake of your head,
“Let me kiss you then,”
It leaves his mouth before you can even tell him how the pain has passed. It’s incredulous, how brazen Lo’aks words are considering his parents were barely out of earshot also enjoying their meal.
“Are you the one with a fever?”
Your voice crack is loud as you grip his wrist, and you make a note that you lean closer to him almost subconsciously.
“What? We have kissed quite a bit?”
In secret- in private- not when everyone you knew was right there, you were sure people presumed but you did not particularly feel the need to deal with the questioning eyes of either your families or your friends.
“You’re parents are right there, Lo’ak. I am not-” But his pretty wide smile cuts you off, and his tail swings down to snatch your swaying one
“We can go somewhere they’re not,”
There’s a snort in his voice like it’s the obvious answer. As though the both of you getting up and walking away together wouldn’t have drawn the same questioning gaze that kissing would have cast upon you, Eywa knows why you are dumb enough to nod at him. Quickly moving to stand up first, but pause when his tail stays wrapped right around yours halting your movement, and you look to him quizzically.
“You gotta wait a minute before we’re going anywhere,”
You’re confused. He was just so eager to be alone with you. How could he possibly be more interested in his previously abandoned meal? And how can he be chuckling at you- and why is the free arm he had propped on the table motioning towards the bench you both sat on and- oh. Thats why. The undeniable tent forming. A reminder why you so quickly agreed to be whisked away by him.
#avatar x reader#avatar the way of water#avatar (2009)#aonung x reader#lo’ak x reader#rotxo x reader#neteyam x reader#aonung smut#lo’ak smut#neteyam smut#rotxo smut#avatar imagine#sacrilegious thots
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─── 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍-𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏
+ michael kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, kaiser is persistent lol, making out, suggestive
notes: idk babes …. hopefully i didn’t butcher him <3 running back to sae after this 🫡 kaiser lovers, enjoy the one and only kaiser fic on my blog !! hehe
summary: kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.
kaiser thinks you’re pretty.
call him stupid or superficial or whatever, but he can’t help it. he walks over to the far end of the counter where you’re working, staring intently at the latte art you’re doing.
it’s horrible. you’re probably new. figures, because he lives right above in the apartment complex and he’s never seen you here before. it’s a damn crime.
“i want a flat white cappuccino, hot, and could you make it with a heart on top?”
you furrow your brows and look up at him, his elbows propped on the stainless steel countertop, cheeky smirk filling his face. you continue wearing your straight expression as you go back to the task at hand.
“i’m not the waiter. you can ask mimiko, she’s the one at the register.”
kaiser doesn’t know her either. she must be new too.
you’re not that friendly. not that kaiser minds; he’ll break through your walls. that’s his personal challenge. he’ll do it.
“but i wanna talk to you.”
still unamused, you sigh and look at him, putting down your frother.
“get in line.”
“hey y/n!”
kaiser’s still optimistic after the failed fifth attempt. he managed to get your name from mimiko when you finally made him go away that first day he saw you. to which you groaned, but kaiser only grinned.
today’s no different. you frown when he walks in, immediately relegating to the back corner of the bar. too bad though, kaiser’s got charms, he’s made quick friends with everyone else here plus he has the famous soccer player privilege so your other colleagues love him.
that’s why he manages to get behind the counter in no time, saying he’ll help work the register. but really, he has no clue what to do and he’s just dilly-dallying around you.
“no, real talk, why do you hate me so much?” kaiser asks, not really bothered but more curious.
you don’t even take him seriously. you’ve looked at him probably about twice this entire day, and one time wasn’t even by choice; it was only because kaiser was blocking your path to the fridge and wouldn’t budge unless you said please. (you didn’t. you just glared at him until he moved.)
“i don’t like your hair.”
“hey, what’s wrong with my hair?”
you shrug. “just don’t like it.”
“okay but what about my tattoos, you like those right?”
kaiser moves to adjust his shirt to let you see but you walk off.
“not really.”
he sighs, you’re really hard to get close to, he’ll give you that. but he’s not one to give up.
before kaiser can say anything else, a bunch of girls from the counter call your name, and he sees you smile for the first time since he’s met you and he feels even more hooked on you.
the control you have over him is pretty insane, and it’s only because kaiser allows it.
you and your friends talk about normal stuff. they’re asking how work’s going and you say it’s fine—just that there’s an annoying guy that won’t quit talking to you.
“wow, fifth date and you’re already telling your friends about me?” kaiser interjects, putting an arm around your shoulder and greeting your friends. he’s positive you’re seething right now, but he continues on. “hey there, you can call me kaiser.”
as your friends blush and introduce themselves, all kaiser notices is how you don’t push him away like you always used to upon first contact. so hey, maybe he is making progress after all.
“so, barista y/n l/n, what’re your plans for today?”
it’s been two months since you started working in the cafe, and it’s been two months since kaiser’s relentless pursuit. he’s not backing down though.
“well, player michael kaiser, that’s none of your business,” you absentmindedly respond as you clean the glass in your hand with the cloth and put it back up on the shelf.
lucky for him, mimiko is on his side.
“our dear y/n has a blind date tonight,” she coos, getting a sigh out of you and winking at kaiser.
“first of all, i’m not a player,” kaiser makes sure to tell you, hurriedly making his way behind the counter as if he owns the place. “second of all, who’s the guy?”
you press your lips into a firm line and repeat yourself, “none of your business, kaiser.”
“but it is.”
“why the hell would it be?”
kaiser pouts. “because i like you.”
it takes you a while to respond, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’ve been nothing but mean to you, you sure you’re not just a masochist?”
that’s a blatant lie, kaiser knows. he knows you’re not actually mean, you just have a sharp tongue.
kaiser notices how you notice him—placing three sugars in his coffee and doing it for him whenever you make it. adding to that; you personally make all of kaiser’s drinks instead of handing it to the other barista, and you make little hearts on top. (at first he thought you might’ve really wanted to poison him, but hey, he’s alive so probably not.) he knows you give someone else the horrible latte art and give him the nicer one you do. he knows how you’ve never actually been mean to him aside from saying you hated his hair and tattoos. (but then he also caught you staring at the rose that one time so maybe you don’t.)
“nope, pretty sure i like you,” kaiser affirms, because in the sunlight he thinks your invisible halo is shining and he’d be a lot more lovestruck now if half of him wasn’t upset that you’re going to go on a blind date when he can’t even score alone time with you.
“what’s his name?” he asks you again, when you don’t respond to him.
it’s about a half hour till closing, he’ll have the whole time to pitch himself to you, maybe. score a date or something. hell, maybe he’ll even convince you not to go on the—
“y/n, right?”
kaiser whips his head to the side to see your supposed date already here.
“i’m yukimiya kenyu,” he’s shaking your hand and you’re actually smiling. at a guy. do you smile at anyone as long as they’re not kaiser? “ready to go?”
“she has another half hour to go, idiot,” kaiser lets slip, catching a warning glare from you.
yukimiya grins sheepishly at the animosity, but you’re quick to defuse the tension. “actually i get off a half hour early today so i’m good to go,” you tell yukimiya, ignoring kaiser behind you. “just let me get my bag and we can go, okay?”
while you’re in the back clocking out, kaiser glares at your date, who’s leaning against the counter and scrolling through his socials. he’s clean, neat, looks like he could be a model. is that your type? kaiser can do that too, does he need to show you all the endorsement deals he’s done?
you leave without saying goodbye, laser focused on yukimiya and whatever the fuck he’s saying and kaiser has never felt more irritated.
“so, how’s your date with pretty boy?”
that’s mimiko asking, because kaiser is still a little pouty even a week later.
“it was fine, we’re into a lot of the same stuff apparently.”
kaiser’s still hovering around you though, because it’s off-season and he’s going to spend every moment he can chasing you. you’re not making it easy though. you’re still giving him the cold shoulder sometimes.
“when’s the next date?”
kaiser is too focused on the thin air he’s staring into to notice you briefly throwing him a quick glance.
“don’t know if there is one, honestly.”
that manages to get kaiser’s attention, his mood immediately perking up and eyes now fully focused on you.
“why not? thought you guys had a lot in common or whatever,” kaiser half-mocks, still a little salty. (which is a little funny to you, considering what kind of person he is in the soccer world.)
you roll your eyes and sigh, moving to keep all the cutleries that you’ve just shined. “don’t know,” you tell them, “maybe because when i was on the date i kept thinking of this annoying guy i know.”
kaiser freezes up. did you really just say that? he’s going to take a shot and just assume he’s the only annoying guy you know. no one should take that position from him.
from the side, mimiko slowly shuffles away, leaving the two of you alone by the coffee machine.
“so… does that mean you’re giving annoying guy a shot?” kaiser’s grinning from ear to ear now, and it’s probably infectious because you’re trying to suppress a grin too.
“maybe, but if he screws it up i’m done with him.”
you’re still trying to act fierce, but it’s too late because kaiser can see through it now. you’re really just a softie inside, aren’t you?
“then are you free this weekend?”
you look at him for the first time with no disinterest in your eyes, like you’re really looking at him now. “what for?”
kaiser smirks. “annoying guy is gonna take you out for the best first date of your life.”
kaiser doesn’t know if he succeeded. but hey, it’s been three hours since the date started and you haven’t run away yet so he must be doing okay.
he takes you to the amusement park first, because one time when you were idly chattering away with mimiko he heard you saying you haven’t been to one in ages. so here you are, on the third rollercoaster ride and you’re having so much fun kaiser’s proud of himself.
turns out you’re surprisingly nice to be around when you’re not being such a grouch. kaiser’s only liking you even more now. likes you even when you’re so excited to eat the corn dog that you get mustard on your face—that only means he gets to wipe it off. likes you also when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him so he’d win you that bunny toy you like in the claw machine.
“so, how am i doing?” kaiser asks when he escorts you to his car—next stop is dinner.
you hum, taking a bite of the big unicorn candy floss in your hand. “a solid six.”
kaiser clicks his tongue in faux annoyance, “it’ll be an eleven by the end of tonight.”
you laugh again and kaiser thinks all this work is worth it. he opens the car door for you, makes sure the aircon isn’t too cold that you freeze, lets you play your music in his car.
you’re kind of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but then again he might be biased. but who cares? you’re also kind of one of the most annoying, but you think the same of him. and you’re not scared of jumping into anything, he can tell because when he pulls up in a parking lot outside of the restaurant, he tells you he wants to kiss you kinda.
your answer?
kaiser never really expected you to agree. but you do; because you climb over to the driver’s seat and settle on his lap, your lips inches away and a smirk forming on your face when you see he’s taken off guard.
“want me to kiss you, kaiser?” you’re teasing him, and he thinks you’ve never looked hotter. he can feel your breath against his lips and fuck your lips are so so close and he wants to taste you so so bad.
but then he remembers who he is and straightens up, cursing himself for letting himself be so flustered into submission. “only if the lady wants it.”
you scoff, rolling your eyes and moving to open his side of the door, “well, if you don’t wanna—”
kaiser closes the door as soon as it opens and turns you to face him, “fuck, just kiss me already.”
the two of you hold onto each other, his hands around your waist and entangled in your hair, his lips gentle and rough on yours both at the same time. you taste sweet, must be all that candy floss you ate. he wants to taste more of you. the little sounds you make when you’re almost out of breath? music to his fucking ears. he’s so whipped for you and he hates you for it. but he also loves you for being like this, for being you.
you’re the first to pull away, smirking and biting your lower lip as you keep your index finger on his lips, separating him from you. “how was that, kaiser?” he doesn’t think you can sound more seductive if you tried.
“y/n l/n, you drive me insane.”
kaiser can’t even focus on dinner after that.
fourth date in and kaiser’s fucking pathetic.
really, he can’t even remember ever being this pathetic because you’ve got him wrapped around your cute little pinky finger.
“what’re you staring at, perv?” you ask, catching him staring as you’re idly flipping through the channels.
it’s a lazy sunday in, you and kaiser are at his apartment, on his bed, watching movies. kaiser sighs because ness walked in on the both of you earlier and even though he’s more than happy to show you off, he’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will unfold.
“staring at your stupid pretty face,” kaiser says, and you avert your gaze, pouting, which kaiser has found out two days ago is just to subvert from your embarrassment.
“hey, when’re you leaving for the champions league again?”
“next week, why?”
you deadpan at him, “what, not gonna invite me to something?”
kaiser stares at you for a minute, dumbfounded, before laughing. that must be the first time ever that you’re asking him for something. up until now, it’s always been him.
“you know what, forget i asked,” you grumble, pouting even more and kaiser has to peck a kiss on your lips from how adorable he thinks you’re being.
“fuck, you’re cute,” he thinks out loud, and you look away.
it’s not like the both of you are together, he thinks, as his finger moves up and down your arms, watching as the goosebumps appear and disappear. but kaiser whatever this situation is, kaiser wants it. he wants this and more and he’s so far gone in you and he doesn’t mind.
“you better be in the front row, okay?” kaiser tells you that night, resuming that conversation. you move to straddle him instead and relish in how he’s dragging his eyes all over your body.
“yes, sir.”
fuck, you really do drive him fucking insane.
kaiser finds it sexy, how you’re in the front row at one of his matches, how you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, how he knows you’re cheering for him and him only.
he invites you to all of his games, puts you up in his hotel, sneaks you around so you won’t be under the public eye. it’s thrilling, and you’re still the same you, beautiful, gorgeous, kind.
you’re still not together, but now he’s sure where he’s headed with you. after six months of whatever this is, he thinks you’d kill him if you weren’t sure. and kaiser thinks you’re just waiting for him, so he’s going to make it memorable.
so, so memorable.
his team makes it to the finals, and with noel noa leading everyone, it’s no surprise they win. the bleachers go wild, everyone is chanting the club cheer, fanning their merch wildly.
kaiser is being pounced on by ness and his other teammates, so is noel. but kaiser pushes through it, weaves out of it, and he’s headed straight to you.
in front of everyone in the stadium, in front of international television, kaiser is running across the field and making his way to you.
kaiser is fast and persistent and so pathetic because he’s so into you and all he knows is he wants you around. for a long time, and forever, if he dare say. so he throws his legs over the railing and kisses you without hesitation, the entire crowd going wild.
he’s kissing you, slow and smiling against your lips and you’re holding onto his arms and fuck you’re so perfect.
“well,” you say when kaiser finally pulls away, his hand still on the back of your neck, “that’s one way to make things public.”
kaiser chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “now the whole world knows you’re mine,” he says, aware that everyone on his team is probably passing money around because he’s sure they bet on when he’d finally make you his girlfriend.
“you’re crazy, michael kaiser.”
yeah, but you love him, don’t you?
he loves you too, by the way.
kaiser pulls away and winks at you right before he gets ready to get back to his team.
“guess i’ll have to top this when i ask you to marry me, huh?”
#bllk x reader#kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x reader#blue lock x reader#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#bllk kaiser x you#bllk kaiser x reader#bllk kaiser x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#kaiser fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#michael kaiser fluff#૪ aeri’s fics !
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