#Man really rambling in the tags here. Should probably delete that. Oh well. POST

[anarcho-masochist]

Okay, I thought this was universal but maybe my last three therapists were right that it is not:

Is it normal for boredom to be truly unbearable?

As in, worse than anything else, would rather get eviscerated while fully conscious, will do anything to escape it which might actually include suicide if no satisfactory options are available?

#it's bad #and no it's not 'when you aren't distracted you're forced to experience existing pain' #I'm not generally suicidal. There are a lot of things I enjoy and want to do. I have plenty of problems but I tend not to care about them. #I do have things to do. Usually even if I don't want to do anything I can entertain myself since I can't switch my brain off anyways. #Literally infinite things to think about #The problem is when none of it feels interesting or exciting enough. Which doesn't make any sense at all. #If I'm unbearably bored and a friend makes the mistake of talking to me I get really toxic. It is a problem. #Usually I have great self control when it comes to destructive or toxic behaviors but not so when I want to end it all because nothing is #interesting enough. #It's like 'if I do something really extreme I'll stop because bored' #Bad things happen... #Or I try to overdose or slit my wrists #better yet is when I try to get myself killed because suicide isn't good enough.... great reasoning (disappointed) #I met three of my ex boyfriends that way #Note to self to stop fucking men i get in knife fights with PLEASE #it is ALWAYS a bad idea. Has never turned out well. #Invariably they always either have anger management/impulse control issues or they're just arrogant jerks who want to be tougher than you #sometimes both #Man really rambling in the tags here. Should probably delete that. Oh well. POST

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[crystalirises]

Clouds V.2.

Help girl, I think I’m confused./j

I swear I posted this??? Huh??? I can’t find it on my blog? Bruh???? 

Sorry if I did post this and this becomes a repost, I just can’t find the original post (am I being dumb wtf???)

Anyway... uh... second version of the Clouds fic I posted. Again, sorry if this is a repost I literally am so confused rn. Help ;-; (did I delete it??? omg I can’t remember whut)

It can also be found on Ao3 but Tumblr is being weird for me rn so I can’t add the ao3 link ;-;

Edit: I found the original post but it doesn’t appear unless I click on the fundy tag on my own blog but if I look at just the blog it doesn’t appear... I am so confused tumblr what did I do.

So, same warnings as the previous Clouds fic.

TW: Poisoning and Major Character Death

The pitter-patter of his footsteps echoed loudly against the cobblestone, wringing his hands together he wondered if it would be too inconsiderate of him to cancel at the last second. Ghostbur would be here at any second. The thought only fueled the terrible anxiety that had taken over him the moment Ghostbur had suggested his idea. He should just pretend he was sick... Yeah. Yeah. He could do that, right?

His ears twitched at the top of his head, drooping as he recalled that today was supposed to be a happy one. Phil had come over and Eret had shown him around the castle as Fundy watched from behind the corner. Phil had given nothing away, his lips set into a thin line as he took in the stone walls of the structure. Fundy felt his heart pound at the recent memory, he really thought Phil was going to refuse.

"As you can see, there's plenty of room here for Fundy. I was actually planning to give him this entire wing of the—" Eret was a great host, a perpetual smile on their face despite the tense atmosphere between them and Phil. Fundy didn't know how Eret could keep their calm when he was over there panicking.

"That's enough, Eret. I've seen enough." Phil's voice cut through the air. It was the only time he's spoken since the tour began. Eret turned to face him, their flurried movement muffled by the soft red carpet beneath their feets.

"What's the verdict, then?" Eret's voice was soft, a hint of their own nervousness coming through his tone. Fundy was shaking. He liked Eret. He really did. But Phil... He didn't know what Phil knew about Eret but—

"You're a kind person, Eret, and I can see you've put a lot of thought into this adoption thing." Phil let out a sigh, gesturing to one of the rooms. "Shall we look at the papers then?"

The two disappeared into the room, leaving Fundy to his thoughts. Eret had left the door open a crack, an invitation. Fundy couldn't bring himself to hear Phil break the news that, no, he wasn't getting adopted. Not if Phil had anything to say about it. Fundy sat down in one of the alcoves, forlornly gazing out the window at the clouds that drifted into view. It felt as if an eternity had passed before he heard the creak of the door.

He looked over at the two, a warm grin on both their faces. "You'll be a great parent, Eret. Take good care of him." Phil patted Eret on the back. "If they ever do you wrong, Fundy. Don't ever hesitate to tell me."

And with that, Phil walked away, declining Eret's offer to escort him out the castle.

He looked at Eret - his dad? mom? ren? - disbelief on his face as he realized that it was over. He... He had a parent again!

"D-dad?" The word felt foreign against his tongue... but it felt right.

Eret smiled, opening up his arms. "Come here, son."

He practically jumped into his new parent's arms, a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time bubbling from within him. "Thank you."

Fundy awoke from the memory, a smile had climbed its way to his face as he thought of the events of the morning. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with Eret but Ghostbur paid him a visit. The ghost looked pale - well paler than a ghost should be - he flickered in and out of view so fast that Fundy thought his mind was playing a trick on him. Fundy expected that visit, but he didn't expect what Ghostbur wanted to say.

As blood seeped from the ghost's chest, he had fallen to his knees (uh... Fundy wasn't sure if the ghost tail could be counted as knees), begging Fundy to give him one last day to be a father. If it had been the old Wilbur, Fundy would have said no. But... He couldn't help but pity Ghostbur. He was trying so hard to fix his mistakes… and it wasn't like he knew what he had done in his life. How could Fundy leave him in such a desolate state?

He should have said no. What would he even say? There’s so many things he wished he could say. But Ghostbur… he wasn’t Wilbur. Wilbur was gone, replaced by a pitiful remnant of the man’s spirit. Maybe he should just leave and say he was sick—

“So— Fundy!”

Shit. Too late to go back now. A shiver ran down his spine as the ghost’s presence made itself known, Ghostbur’s low voice causing him to jump a bit as he turned to look around. Ghostbur had a soft smile on his face, his complexion paler than before. Phantom blood clung to the man’s yellow sweater, dripping every so often only to dissipate the moment it reached the ground. Fundy could only hope that Ghostbur’s blood didn’t end up inside the picnic basket he was carrying.

“Hey. Hey, Wil. So, what’s with the picnic basket?”

“Oh! I was wondering what we could do today and then I remembered. Remember when you were younger and we would have a picnic near the riverbank?” There was a glint in Ghostbur’s eyes, Fundy swears he’s seen it before. “I… I thought we could do that.”

Fundy doesn’t have the heart to tell the ghost that... technically… the only person who’ll be eating was Fundy. He sighed, nodding as an answer to Ghostbur’s question. “We used to do it with mom.” He does not miss the way Ghostbur’s smile disappears, grief flickering on the ghost’s face at the mention of his old love. The sad emotion faded just as quickly, replaced by that infuriating smile as if nothing had just happened. “Lead the way then, Wil.”

“OH! Right!”

Ghostbur floated beside him, the cobblestone pathways gave way to wooden bridges and wooden bridges gave way to grassy plains. Fundy wondered why Ghostbur wanted to have their picnic away from New L’Manburg when there was a river nearby its borders. He would ask… if the ghost didn’t keep changing the topic every second. Ghostbur alternated between telling what he had done that day to what Fundy had done that day. Fundy could hardly keep up with the conversation at all. It was almost as if the ghost was rambling.

“I helped Niki with her bakery today—“

“Oh? That’s great, Wil—“

“Have you talked with Niki recently?”

“Well, I—“

“Oh, I also had a small chat with Phil!”

“Uh huh.”

“He eventually had to leave for something, mentioning Eret and a meeting…”

“That’s probably cause—“

“You like Phil, right?”

“Yeah, Wil can you pick one—“

“Oh I also picked some flowers and some berries today.”

“That’s great, Wil.”

“I made you a salad!”

“Oh.”

Fundy tuned out midway, seeing as Ghostbur didn’t really care for what he had to say. He looked up into the sky instead, watching the clouds float by, their ethereal presence soothing him a bit. He began to trace their edges, imagining a world within the clouds. If he looked closely, he could almost see a cloud that looked just like a salmon. He felt a sharp pang in his heart, a memory from his childhood echoing from the recesses of his mind.

“My little champion, look at you. When did you get so big, huh?” Wilbur held him closely to his chest, a calloused hand caressing his hair as they made their way through the grassy field. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, a beautiful day… a peaceful day. “What present do you want, huh?”

He looked up, the clouds that floated above their heads looked like the marshmallows that his uncle Tommy had once given him. He pointed at one that looked suspiciously like a flower, “Clouds.” Wilbur laughed, holding his son closer.

“You deserve the world, Fundy.” He placed a small kiss on the top of Fundy’s head. “Someday.”

“Hurry up, you two!” His mother’s voice drifted across the field, the sunlight tangled in her long red hair. She had gone ahead to unpack for the picnic. Fundy could remember her smile, her deep love for him… but… he… he can’t recall what she looked like…

“Fundy?” He tore himself away from the memory, his mother taught him to see the shapes in the clouds, didn’t she? there was a cold hand pressed against his cheek, Ghostbur’s eyes peered down at him from above. The steady noise of a rushing river registered in his ears, how long had he zoned out? He moved away from Ghostbur’s touch, the heat returning to his cheek. “We’re here.” The ghost gestured to the idyllic spot they had stopped at… it almost felt familiar…

“Huh. Sorry, I was… thinking.”

“It’s alright, so— Fundy. Here, sit down.” Fundy looked at the patch of grass his father had pointed to, the picnic basket having been placed down beside it. “Are you hungry? Now, we both know I’m not a great cook but I… tried my best with the salad.”

Fundy hesitantly looked inside the basket, nightmares of Wilbur’s… less than stellar cooking coming to mind. The salad looked dangerously pink, a multitude of berries mixed into the strange creation. Fundy looked up, the chill of Ghostbur’s eager gaze eventually forced him to take the salad out of the basket. He tries not to jump as Ghostbur claps his hands together, spinning mid-air with an almost manic glee.

“It… looks great, Wil.”

No, it did not look great, but… Ghostbur seemed so happy, and Fundy hasn’t even taken a bite yet. Ghostbur giggled, floating down to sit beside Fundy. “It took me a while to gather everything I needed.”

Fundy looked at down at the pink mess of a salad and shakily took a bite. He tries not to gag at the bitter taste on his tongue. Ghostbur looked so happy and he didn’t want to ruin the poor ghost’s efforts. He sighed, shoveling more of the muck into his mouth. The sooner he finishes eating, then the sooner he can get back home to Eret. Ghostbur hummed beside him, seemingly satisfied as Fundy continued to eat.

“You know…” Ghostbur’s voice broke through the silence. Fundy looked up, shaking his head a bit as the world blearily spun around him. “I… don’t like Eret.”

“Wil… the papers were already signed, okay?” Fundy nearly snarls. He didn’t come here to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter what you— I-I thought you wanted to spend time with me!”

Ghostbur blinked down at him, his mouth agape in surprise. “W-wha— Of course I do! I-I’m just… I-I don’t see why you need another father when I’m right he—

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Wilbur. It’s been fun, it’s been great. But if this is all you wanted to talk about then I’m leaving.” Fundy sighed. He didn’t know what he expected, but he had heard enough. His head was starting to pound… he turned to stand up, “You know what, Wil—“

He shuddered, falling back onto the ground as the world faded into a blur. He felt weak, his head beginning to ache… was he… was he sick? He shivered, curling into himself as a wave of nausea rolled over him.

“Wha— Wil… What did you—“

“I’m sorry, Fundy.” Ghostbur floated into view, a halo of white around his form as he placed a cold hand on Fundy’s head. “I… I tried! I want you to be happy Fundy but I just... Eret? You want Eret as your dad?”

“W-Wil…”

He felt those ghostly hands gently caress his hair, exhaustion seeping into his veins. “It took me a while to find those foxgloves… Niki almost caught me… b-but you have to understand, Fundy, I’m doing this for you!”

“I—“ Fundy whined, his headache worsening as his vision began to blur. He felt so tired…

“I know it hurts, but I promise it’ll be over soon.” Wilbur let out a small huff, wrapping his arms around Fundy’s shivering form, wishing that he could provide some semblance of comfort. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Just… you must be tired, huh?”

Fundy cried as Ghostbur began to hum a familiar tune.

‘I don’t want this.’

‘I don’t want to die like this.’

‘Why did I trust you, Wilbur?’

Fundy began to weep, Ghostbur’s constricting embrace the last thing he feels as he finally falls into sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

“It all started on a day like any another”

Fundy woke to a bloody red sky.

“All the salmon had swum to the sea”

The sun was setting in the distance.

“When my lover she darted, away from the stream”

Fundy felt the soft grass that tickled against his skin.

“With a heart that she’d taken from me”

The clouds were beginning to drift away.

“And my chest though it ached, there was hope”

Where was he?

“A little beacon of light”

He knew that song. He looked up, a familiar silhouette stood nearby.

“Though my sunniest days were now stolen away”

“D-dad?”

There was a satisfied grin on Wilbur’s face.

“Hello, son.”

“I still had our son by my side.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I am so confused I swear I posted this ;-; (maybe I deleted it idk...)

So yeah this is the second version, hope you guys liked it! Sorry if this is annoying, I’m trying to sort out some stuff on Tumblr cause some of my posts are just *poof* ;-;

Anyway, bye bye.

#fundy #wilbur soot #eret #mcyt #i swear i posted this before hnggggg

[hanhan156]

A new fic to my Stadium Tour series

Tumblr has been a pain in the ass for me recently. First, my sideblog’s posts’ tags are not shown in the feed and secondly, my last fic’s link disappeared suddenly from the tag feed. I have no clue why - maybe the god’s of Tumblr didn’t like when Paul was laughing at Reesh’s goofy outfit.

Anyways, I keep my fingers crossed and post this fic straight here. Enjoy. ~

ps. Once again, it's just my headcanons, no means to offend anybody. I'm just playing around the characters. This time, there's a bit of angst, but in the end I promise, it's gonna be fine.

Tales from the Stadium Tour pt. 2: Night terrors

Only two months to the start of their biggest tour ever, and everyone is understandably being exhausted as hell. Nobody hasn't said or done anything to it before their lead guitarist cracks and threatens to quit the whole band.

Luckily, Paul is there for him.

Being a world-famous band, some days tended to be the best ever, while some were being the absolute worst. Today, evidently, the latter - at least for their lead guitarist.

“So ein Misthaufen!!! Fuck this lousy band and fuck this even lousier tour!!!” Richard yelled, after another string from his guitar broke in the middle of the song. He usually treated his precious instrument like a woman he adored, but at this stage of upset, he almost threw it to the brick wall. “I said in the first place that this stadium tour was the dumbest idea we’ve ever had. It’s gonna be just a fucking farce the whole thing, I tell you!”

The guitarist rushed demonstratively towards the door turning to his fellow band members the last time before exiting the room. “I’m gonna leave this whole Scheisse, so have a nice tour without me!!!”

Schneider, confused and annoyed from the strange situation, stood up behind his drum kit. He had to interrupt this somehow. “C’mon Reesh, we’ve had way worse moments before. What the hell are you talking about quitting now? Should we cancel all the sold-out stadium shows then, huh? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s been just a bad day, it’s unnecessary to act like that!” He didn’t think they really had played so poorly – hell’s, back in the days, they’d even performed to full festival audiences, completely wasted, and with all of their instruments being out of tune.

“Hire a fucking substitute, it’s your problem now. I don’t care anymore! So verpiss dich!!” Richard snorted and showed the rudest hand sign known in the western culture to his band members before slamming the door and disappearing from their practice.

Stiff atmosphere landed the room. The question marks inside the other band members’ heads were almost visible. What on earth was that? Flake stared at his keyboard without saying anything. He really hated drama and usually when that occurred, he wanted to discuss and settle things with diplomacy rather than with yelling and swearing. He had to admit that he was sometimes a bit frightened about the melodramatic attitude their lead guitarist had. Flake knew that Richard was emotionally unstable - mostly, because of his neglecting family and other difficulties he had encountered through his life, so it was definitely understandable - but still, he was never prepared for the drama. He would have wanted to help the poor man, but didn’t really know, how.

In the other corner, Ollie was playing some random bass riff without an amplifier. He tried to keep himself busy and hide his disorientation as well. Schneider was bit in a shock and was handling it with never-ending gabbing.

“What the fuck was that, why he had to be so mean? He should definitely learn some manners, he can’t say things like that or show us the middle finger, like he would be the boss. We are all adults, for god’s sake…” He inhaled and continued, a notable concern in his voice: “Where did that thing about quitting come from? Right now, just two months before Gelsenkirchen? I don’t understand, why is he being such an asshole…”

“That’s enough,” Till interrupted their drummer’s rambling and cleared his throat, continuing: “Yes, he was being an ass towards us, but we shouldn’t judge him still. As you said Schneider, we are all adults, so let’s act like ones, even though Reesh didn’t. We all have our bad moments, and bad days, but we’ll still stick together, right?”

Paul was sitting legs crossed in the middle of the stage, listening to the discussion - or it seemed more like an argument now. To be honest, he wouldn’t have wanted to participate anyhow to this, but he didn’t want anyone to be upset though. Richard had once said that their band’s relationship was like a marriage, so despite all the uncomfortable things happening, he still felt responsible of their band members - especially Richard, who he cared deeply.

“I agree with you that he’s been like a bear shot in the ass lately, but still, we shouldn’t hate him. There must be an explanation to all of this,” Paul said and turned towards their singer, desperation in his voice: “Till, what should we do now?”

The singer just shrugged his shoulders.

Schneider, still annoyed, carried on his ranting: “So what could help then, huh? Should we let the diva continue being an ass towards us? What if he was serious about quitting, what are we gonna do then? Cancel all the shows, get real jobs? Guys, I’m definitely not accepting this. Not at all. We shouldn’t always go his way.”

There was a brief silence in the tight atmosphere before Till gestured Paul outside the rehearsal room. “Can I have a word with you, privately?”

The puzzled guitarist nodded and followed.

“Have you noticed anything…unusual in Reesh’s behavior recently?” Till asked when they were just the two of them.

Paul was thinking for a while what to answer. “Yes. When I think about it, he’s been even more annoying than usually,” he tried to ease the tight atmosphere, but Till still looked dead serious, so he clarified, “or I mean that he really gets annoyed even about the smallest things nowadays. Sometimes, I don’t dare to say anything to him because everything seems to upset him more. He also looks exhausted and doesn’t have the energy he usually has. He seems like…he’s not being himself anymore.”

“Exactly,” Till answered. He was happy to hear that Paul had noticed the same things as him.

“Do you have any idea, what might it be? You’ve known each other quite a long time so has he been like that before?”

“Couple of times, yes. You know that he’s being sometimes unnecessarily dramatic, but I think this time, he has a reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have to admit that we - especially I - sounded like a vulture’s diarrhea ass today. You know how perfectionist Reesh is, so it made him even more distressed, and now he must think that our band is a total bullshit in general.”

“I agree that we weren’t at our best, but of course we’ve had bad days before and always managed still. I just don’t understand what made him to crack like that now.”

Till stared at the wall, avoiding Paul’s eyes, when he said: “I think he is mostly annoyed to himself rather than to us. He is clearly in a huge stress about this tour, about the news songs, about every single damn detail you can imagine. I can see that he’s not being his lively self, as you mentioned before. He tries to control everything too much and now, just two months before the tour should start, he has realized that it’s impossible to handle everything with a way he’d want to.”

Paul didn’t know what to think. In his opinion the stadium tour had been a good idea, something new and exciting for them. They’d had so much fun while creating their crazy-ass performance and the good old creative vibes had been around them. It felt amazing to play together once again, and like a cherry on top, it had lit that inner fire Paul had missed for a long time. He was also thrilled to perform the new songs - despite they didn’t have any clue yet, would the audience even like them, he was happy to play something new beside the old classics to which he was a bit fed up with. To be honest, he was even relieved that they had deleted Feuer Frei from their set list - even though it was a popular song, musically Paul thought it was one of their worst.

But, of course, when speaking of this kind of massive tour, everything doesn’t always go as expected. Paul didn’t mind it so much and he liked the idea that there was always room for some improvisation and surprises. The most important thing was that they and their audience enjoyed themselves. Besides, you’d always learn from failures and you could laugh at them later. He didn’t really understand, why Richard had to be so concerned about everything.

One thing his fellow guitarist had said before worried him the most. “Do you think he was serious with this ‘I quit’ bullshit?”

Till looked uneasy as well. “I don’t know. He is pretty unpredictable to be honest.”

“Then, what should we do? You know him the best, so should you go to talk to him?”

“Not me.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t listen to me. It might make him to feel even worse. If he sees me, he probably just wants to smack me in the face.”

“So, what’s the solution then? Should we just let him be?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s not once or twice he has ended up doing something stupid in bad mood.���

After a brief silent moment, Till looked Paul, almost like a begging dog. “Can you go to talk to him? I think you are the only chance we have now.”

The guitarist gave a laugh. “Me? What the hell, I’m not a professional psychologist. Besides, you know him way better than me.”

“It doesn’t matter, who knows him the best. Have you happened to notice the way he looks at you, listens to everything you say? He clearly adores you, so I think you should do it. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll figure out something else.”

Oh mein Gott. “But what am I supposed to say? I…I’m not good at this kind of stuff. What if I make him to feel even worse?”

“Just improvise,” Till said, and patted Paul’s shoulder, trying to make him to relax. Instead, the other man gulped notable loud. A huge pile of responsibility was on his shoulders now.

What the hell did I just promise.

Finding their angsty little teenager ended up to be pretty easy; Paul just had to follow the thick fog hovering in the corridor. Seriously, he should cut down that smoking.

In no time, Richard was hearing a knock on his door. Verdammt.

“For fuck’s sake, lass mich Ruh!”

“Sorry to interrupt, but can I come in?”

Hearing Paul’s voice cooled Richard down a tiny bit. At first, he’d been completely sure that it was Till who came to interrupt his own peace. Now he was so surprised that he couldn’t even reply anything to the other guitarist’s question. The other part of him wanted to welcome him in, hug him as tight as he could and weep all of his sorrows to the other man, while the other part just wanted to pout alone and act like nothing was wrong.

When Paul didn’t hear anything, he decided to take a risk and come in even without a permission. At least, there wasn’t that childish swearing anymore.

“You know very well that we all agreed earlier that we are not smoking inside,” he said, trying not to sound too judgemental. He knew that Richard was an eternal rebel, but still, he should at least try to obey the rules they had set together.

Even though Paul didn’t mean it, Richard took the other man’s comment as an insult. “Oh, I didn’t know that my stepfather has taken a form of Paul suddenly.” Even a thought of that horrible family member made Richard to shiver a bit.

Paul sighed. “You know very well that I didn’t mean to sound like him, just that some of the tour staff told us that they might get a terrible headache from cigarette smoke. We don’t want anyone to get sick at this point. You are not a teenager anymore, so you should start to respect others’ opinions as well.”

Just to annoy Paul more, his fellow band member lighted up another cigarette even though the first one wasn’t finished yet. Richard didn’t even bother to give a glance to the other man, like he would have been just thin air to him.

“Hallooo Mister, I’m talking to you now!” Paul shouted, waving his hands at the same time in front of the cocky man.

But still, Richard just continued smoking, without saying anything.

Paul tried to think what to do. Sensible talking clearly didn’t work now so he had to make up another kind of tactic.

Okay, you asked for this, you damn teenage diva.

Without any prior warning, Paul sat on Richard’s lap, dumped the precious cigarette to one of the many beer cans on the floor, and turned the other man’s head, forcing him to look straight into his eyes.

“Do I finally have your attention, Herr Kruspe?” Paul asked, in a provoked tone. If this wouldn’t work, he would suggest to the guys that maybe they should hire a new lead guitarist after all.

But, to Paul’s surprise, despite his earlier arrogant acting, Richard’s face didn’t look as aggressive as he had sounded. Instead, his eyes were actually glossy. The sight sent a wave of empathy inside Paul and now he was really concerned instead being annoyed. Okay, this must be something serious now.

“Reesh, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Richard answered, turning his eyes from the other man’s inquisitive, yet sympathetic, gaze. I am not a fucking baby, so don’t you dare to pity me like that.

But resiliently, Paul continued: “It’s clearly ‘nothing’ when you are almost crying.”

Richard didn’t like it when Paul had to see him in this weak state. “You shouldn’t have come here. I bet that Till sent you.”

“It doesn’t matter who send me and why. I am seriously worried about you. In fact, we all are.”

Richard didn’t say anything, he just stared at the table in front of them even though it was difficult when the other man was sitting on his lap, being so freaking close to him. But to be honest, in any other situation, the other man’s proximity would have actually felt really pleasant. Right now though, he was so distressed that it was difficult to concentrate on anything.

“Reesh, honestly, we all are under a huge stress because of the upcoming concerts and stuff, but how you are acting and threatening to leave us, are far from normal. Please, tell me, what is concerning you,” Paul begged.

There was once again a silent moment. For a while Paul thought that this was a lost case - maybe Richard didn’t want to tell him anything and would rather to stay alone. This was probably a stupid idea in the end. Damn you Till and your “just improvise”.

But, just before Paul thought about leaving from the other man’s lap, Richard broke the eerie silence with a huge sigh. “Y-you are correct, I am actually in a huge stress.”

Now Paul’s attention arose again. Maybe this isn’t a lost case after all. “Do you want to clarify what do you mean with ‘a huge stress’? You know very well that I’m not a telepath, so I can’t enter your thoughts if you are not telling me, what’s going on.”

“I’m just so fucking scared of…all of this,” the other man managed to say, with a trembling voice. He desperately tried to fight back tears - it was too embarrassing to cry when somebody was witnessing. Richard was so used to keep his tough mask and now when it was falling off, he felt suddenly so helpless.

“Scared of what exactly?”

“Of everything…about this new tour and…stuff.”

Without getting a very clarifying answer, Paul tried to keep on asking. “We all can see that you are not being yourself. Can I ask you, have you even slept or eaten properly? Cigarettes and coffee are not considered as food.”

There was no point to lie or hide anymore, so whatever Paul was asking, Richard had to answer. Shit. “Well, a couple of hours now and then.”

“How much did you sleep last night for example?”

“Well, actually I…umm…didn’t sleep. And when I think about it, maybe I didn’t eat anything either. I really cannot remember…My head is being a bit fuzzy because there’s so much going on.”

“Holy hell, did you know that at our age we should care about our health even more! That’s not gonna end up really well, if you continue that kind of lifestyle. We are not young anymore, our motor doesn’t run with only drugs and alcohol!”

“Seriously, why do you have to sound like some fucking nurse now.” Of course, Richard knew very well that what he was doing wasn’t really healthy, but he couldn’t help it.

“It doesn’t matter how I sound, the most important thing is you now. But could you tell me, why haven’t you slept? Is there something bothering you?”

Richard nodded and shivered a bit. Fuck it, maybe I just have to tell him. “I can’t sleep because…because…I’ve had so horrible nightmares lately that I’m actually…afraid of falling asleep…it’s easier to stay up as long as I can.”

“Do you want to tell me what kind of nightmares?” Paul knew that he really started to sound like a psychologist, but he was so concerned, that he didn’t care about it right now.

They’d been sitting on the couch for a while and Richard had been trying to avoid Paul’s physical and mental proximity as best as he could. But, as he started to open up, he had a sudden urge to seek for attention from his friend. To Paul’s complete - yet, pleasant - surprise, without a warning, Richard grabbed him tightly and started to pour out, sobbing desperately at the same time: “I’ve…had of course nightmares before, but…not as vivid as these…i…it’s so fucking disturbing…”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of now, I’m with you,” Paul tried to calm his friend down, stroking his hair gently. “What is happening in your nightmares?”

Richard cleared his throat and started to mumble to Paul’s shoulder: “It begins…pretty normally. We are having a gig, everything goes well, and we are having fun, even though…I’m a bit dizzy when I see the huge audience. Seriously, it seems like there are millions of people there. Just staring at us. And I feel a nasty twitch in my stomach when I think about how they are…judging us, especially me.”

“You know that in our concerts, most of the people are probably so wasted that they don’t even remember anything. They don’t care how you sound or look, they are just having a party of their lives,” Paul said, trying to ease the other man’s horror.

But Richard didn’t hear what Paul was saying, he just kept continuing: “Then, we are doing the boat thing…I always thought it was a bad idea. You know what happened to Flake earlier.”

“And you know that Till has said you thousand times that you don’t have to do it, if you are afraid.”

“But…I don’t want to be…a coward.”

“You’re definitely far from being a coward.”

I wish I would believe that also. Richard gulped and continued to describe his terrible dream: “Everything is pretty ok and I see you are doing fine while you are boating through the audience - in fact, you seem to enjoy yourselves with Schneider, shaking hands with the people and stuff…I’m jealous to you when you manage to remain so calm.

When it’s finally my turn to step in, I feel like I have to throw up. When I look at all the people, they resemble an enormous pack of greedy wolves, ready to tear me alive. It’s fucking terrifying...

Then, I manage to go with the boat for a while, and when I’m finally convinced that it’s gonna be alright, suddenly something happens…I fall down and hit my head. I nearly pass out, and try to shout for help, but…nobody’s listening. Instead, the audience - looking like fucking werewolves with their huge red eyes - is tearing me apart, kicking and hitting me in the face so hard it’s impossible to breathe. I’m coughing blood and spitting out pieces of my teeth. At the same time, those animals are shouting…pretty nasty stuff to me.”

Paul noticed that as the story carried on, his breathing was getting shallow and his hands, still caressing his friend’s hair, were shaking. Yet, he tried to remain as calm as possible because he wanted Richard to tell him all, despite how horrible it would be. “What kind of…insults?”

“They are calling me…” In this part, it was difficult for Paul to get what Richard was saying, because his voice was trembling so much. Still, he tried his best to listen. “…a numb, a complete failure and that I have just failed through my life. That all I have achieved so far is a fucking farce… that nobody cares about me and…I would be better off dead. Some of those freaking werewolves even have the judging voice of my stepfather. He always thought that I’m nothing, I’m just a total loser. After all of these years his words…still haunt me.”

“Reesh, that’s so horrible…I’m so sorry to hear.” Paul wasn’t sure, what kind of words were the most suitable in this kind of situation. For Richard though, he wasn’t hoping to hear the right words, he was just so relieved that somebody was listening to him - and he was even more relieved when the person listening to him was Paul.

Richard parted from their embrace, now looking straight into the other man’s eyes. His grey eyes were filled with pure horror and self judgement. “But the worst part is just coming up.”

“Do you…do you want to tell it to me?”

Richard squeezed his friend’s shoulders so tight it hurt, but it didn’t matter.

“Reesh, please tell me. Everything is ok now, I’m here for you…”

So, the horrifying story continued. “In the end, the audience disappears and I’m relieved when I see all of you approaching me. I raise my hands, begging for your help, but you… just continue doing the same terrible things as the audience…Till points and laughs at me…that laugh is still echoing in my head…Rest of you behind him start to mock me. I also hear somebody of you saying that thank god you are finally getting rid of me, because you all hate me so much.

And in the end, the rest of the guys, expect for you, leave the scene. You stare at me, looking so curious - like a scientist glaring at his guinea pig - and so unusually…cold. I’m drained and exhausted, still hoping that at least you would help me. But, in the end…you come close to me and whisper to my ear…” Richard’s voice suddenly broke and he couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

Paul’s whole body was on goosebumps, but still, he wanted Richard to continue: “What…is it I whisper to you?”

The other man answered with his eyes closed: “You whisper to me that…’you fucking piece of shit…du bist ein Scheitern’…”

“…A failure? Why would I ever call you that? That’s… so fucking horrible…I’m so sorry…I would never call you with that horrendous word…”

“And you keep repeating it over and over until I’m begging you to stop, but you just continue…”

“Holy motherfucking hell, you should know that I would never, ever say anything like that to you…”

“And in the end, you spit on me and disappear, laughing with a voice so cruel that it…still hurts me to even think about it…I’d want to cry, but I can’t. I just lay on the dirty ground, alone, torn in the pieces mentally and physically.”

Paul was completely shocked, squeezing the other man tightly. “Holy shit…why am I acting like that in your dreams… I certainly hope that you are not really thinking that I would ever do something like that to you. Not in this lifetime. Not me, Till, Flake, Ollie or Schneider. We all love and support you and we’ll stick together, whatever happens. The audience can be shit sometimes, but we’ll always be there for you. For each other.”

Richard was crying to Paul’s shoulder, this time without even bothering to hide his awful feelings. Even though it was horrible to say out loud all these things which had bothered him for so long, it felt like a catharsis to finally speak about those horrors.

Richard parted from Paul’s embrace to blow his nose. “Es tut mir wirklich leid…how embarrassing, an adult man weeping like this.”

“Hey, there’s definitely no need to apologize.”

“Yes, there is. I was an ass towards all of you today. I really don’t know why I said all those cruel things…I’m just somehow so shocked and horrified about everything…”

“Well, all the guys were quite confused about the scene you created, but they will definitely understand and accept your apology. These are hard times for all of us, you are not alone.”

Richard wasn’t really convinced, so he continued: “Why am I so weak, why do I have to show my emotions like this…you all seem to be so happy about this new tour so why am I acting like this…”

“We all are afraid, of course. I’m as well and sometimes, it’s difficult for me to sleep, even though you know pretty well how good I’m at napping.”

Richard gave a dry laugh through his tears. “Yes, I definitely remember that lousy night after a gig in Mexico City, in that even lousier motel bunk we had to share. You were snoring so loud, and it was so freaking hot next to you, that I couldn’t sleep a second.”

Paul grinned. It was a good sign that Richard was joking, so he could be distracted from all the terrible things they had just discussed about. “To be honest, I don’t even remember anything from that night.” They both made a sound so weird that it was difficult to tell whether they were laughing or crying. It warmed up Paul’s heart to see his friend smiling, at least a tiny bit.

“But yeah, coming back to our Stadium Tour, it’s gonna be a huge thing for us. A challenge and an enormous step forward. I’m excited and yes, so afraid at the same time, but also, I am willing to just jump into the crazy rollercoaster - to see where it will lead us. And I’m completely sure that in the end, we will succeed and be even a bigger band we already are.”

“But how are you able to manage with all the fears and concerns? You seem so calm while I feel like I’m breaking into pieces even though the tour hasn’t even started yet.”

“I think the biggest reason I manage is that I know that I’m not alone. Whatever happens, we’ll stick together. We can, and we actually are bound, to ask for help - you should remember that as well. We don’t have to act like we are stronger than we are - we are, in the end, just a bunch of normal guys. Not some superheroes.”

Richard sighed. “I wish I could be like that as well. This freaking perfectionism is killing me.”

Paul understood what Richard meant. His friend was definitely that kind of a person, who’d be concerned if 1 person out of 100 didn’t like him, and he’d remember that single negative feedback for the rest of his life, even though there were actually 99 people worshipping him.

“Reesh, let me tell you something.”

There was a puzzled gaze in the other man’s eyes when Paul turned him to look at him again. “I just want you to know that you are an amazing person and a talented musician. Honestly, you are fucking amazing at anything you do. And if there happens to be someone who doesn’t like you, it’s his problem.”

Richard was blinking his eyes, confused from all of this. Still, after all these years, he wasn’t used to compliments. It felt a bit similar when passionate fans came to him, praising him from head to toe. “Now you must be just flattering me.”

Paul looked at him with a serious gaze. “Everything I said before is true, it’s not just some lame flattering. You deserve so much more positive things. I said it because I lo…” He cleared his throat and continued, feeling a rush of warmth on his cheeks at the same time: “I…umm, adore you very much.”

“Thank…you.” Richard was completely dumbfounded by the sweet words.

The two men were still embracing each other. Richard felt like his legs were getting a bit numb from Paul’s weight, but it didn’t matter. His whole body had calmed down, and he actually felt like he could finally fall asleep now, being safe with his friend.

His dreamy state was interrupted though when the other man asked: “Just one last thing. Were you serious with this ‘I quit’ stuff?”

Richard smiled. “Maybe I admit that I overreacted a bit. Of course, I’m not quitting, because I don’t want to get rid of any of you. Especially from you, Paul. I enjoy irritating you way too much.”

Hearing that felt like a heavy load finally dropped from Paul’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful to hear.” Then he came closer and whispered to Richard’s ear: “And you are definitely not getting rid of me, never in this lifetime.”

They both chuckled and Richard went back to his sweet, dreamy state. His eyelids weighed like led and slowly, he was dragged into the miraculous world of his unconscious mind.

Suddenly, Paul said, like from the distance, even though he was still close: “We all should relax.”

“…but I thought we have a tight schedule,” the other, drowsy man, mumbled.

“Yes, but it doesn’t help if we forcefully continue, exhausted and drained. We’d be too tired when the actual tour starts. We should take a tiny break.”

There was complete silence and Paul could only hear Richard’s calm, rhythmic breathing. “Are you sleeping under me?” he asked, pressing a couple of light kisses on the other man’s forehead.

“…maybe…does it matter?”

Paul gave a laugh. “Not at all, just that it might be a bit uncomfortable position.” He finally stood up and immediately, Richard positioned himself to the sofa more comfortable so he could take a nap. Paul handed him a blanket and sat next to him, caressing him still.

“I actually got an idea what we could do.”

“…huh?” was all that Richard was able to answer from the edge of consciousness.

“I’ll tell you later. Now, just get some sleep, mein Liebling.”

­­­­­­­­­­­­­“Wonderful to hear that he’s now resting,” Till said while they were walking towards the little kebab kiosk nearby the rehearsal place. Even though Till tried to maintain a healthy lifestyle, Paul’s idea of getting some junk food and watching a crappy movie from Ollie’s endless B film -collection, was a very good one indeed. It was no use to do anything meaningful anymore today and they all really needed something else to think about than the tour. It had been a long time since they did something else together than music related stuff.

There was still one question bothering the singer. “But I’m curious, how did you manage to calm him down when he was so upset earlier?”

“Well, I had my own ways,” Paul said, grinning himself.

“You two clearly have something special going on.”

With a dreamy look in his eyes, them fixed to the red sky, Paul whispered so quietly that Till could barely hear it: “…vielleicht…”

#rammstein #rammsteinfandom #richard kruspe #paul landers #till lindemann #flake lorenz #christoph schneider #oliver riedel #paulchard #my fics

[spideyy-girl]

Secret Crush ~ Enoch O’Connor (w/Platonic!Jake Portman)

Request: was requested on my old blog, but I’ve lost the original ask, so if you’re the person who asked for this and wants to be tagged for it, please dm me :)

Summary: Jacob Portman has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, but sometimes you regret telling him some things, like your secret crush on a mysterious man you’ve known. But surely Jake had all good intentions...

Warnings: none I don’t think, jake being annoying?

Word Count: 2433 (6.7 pages)

Date: January 8th, 2019 (HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!)

A/N: ok so I, of course, have an excuse oof. I did post this on the day that I was supposed, BUT my dumbass accidentally posted it on my original blog, and when I saw it I reacted immediately and deleted it completely, instead of copying it and pasting it on the right account. Also, it’s been hard to try and fix this up, as I’ve been going through some tough stuff in my personal life. SO once again ], I’m so sorry for the (very) late update, but either way I hope you enjoy it! I love you all so much and thank you for the support. This is really long sorry you probably didn’t even read this but if you did kudos to you my friend that’s patience lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and as always HAPPY READING!!

~Ciara xo   |   MEGA MASTERLIST   |   SEND REQUESTS   |

Also, requests and taglists are still open, I will be posting about requests very soon so be on the lookout!

I love my bestest friend, Jake, but sometimes he just can’t shut his goddamn mouth. Especially about my super duper secret, I thought I could trust him. Well, I learned the hard way.

Basically, you can never trust a Portman.

I realize this while I watch silently and embarrassed at Jake making kissy noises while squishing his cheeks together and squinching his eyes shut. It was definitely quite the sight to see.

“Oh my, Enoch. I LOVE YOU SOOOOO MUCH MWAH MWAH MWAHHHH,” he screamed, continuing his actions. I roll my eyes, my cheeks going red, as I slapped his chest. He let out a small groan, but it didn’t stop him. 

“The feeling’s not mutual, Portman,” Enoch says at the doorway, his voice making me jump and my heart stops at the same time. He walked in to get some supplies for his ‘dolls’ and Jake calls them. I slapped Jake upright the head once I got control of myself. He let out a small yell, reaching up to massage his head. I really hope Enoch did not hear anything from our earlier conversation, or this ‘secret crush’ of mine wouldn’t be much of a secret anymore.

As he finished collecting his stuff, doing so as quickly as possible, he practically ran back to the door, stopping and the doorframe to glance in one more time. He low-key glared at Jake, which was easily returned, and then his eyes shifted over to settle on mine. I was already looking at him, partially for curiosity, but also because, well, look at him. He barely returned my glance for half a second before once again rushing out the room.

I sighed as I watched him depart, my shoulders slumping and my head falling, eyes focused on my feet, which were still moving nervously. For almost as long as I’ve known Enoch, he’s done this. For some reason, he just seems to dislike me very much, with not much reasoning why. I’ve thought of a few things, maybe it’s because I’m good friends with the guy he loathes. Maybe it’s because my peculiarity developed later than usual. Maybe because I came here later, with Jake.

“Why the long face? I know I’m happy with that twat being out of the room,” Jake said, putting a hand on my shoulder and trying to joke around like he usually does when he wants to put a smile on my face when I’m sad. I shrugged.

“What did I do?” I asked innocently, looking up at him, tears threatening to come out of my eyes and fall down my cheeks. He looked sad at my new expression and confused with what I just said.

“What’re you talking about? Did to who?” He asked, pulling me into a tight hug. Although he can be a pain sometimes, Jake always knew how to cheer me up and comfort me when I’m down. I sniffled, cuddling closer to him.

“Who else, dipshit. Enoch.” I say sarcastically, slightly laughing. Jake pulls me out from his chest, grabbing my arms softly and making me look at him. I’ve never seen the boy more serious than he did now. It was truly a shock to me since I’ve known him pretty much all my life.

“Are you actually blind?” He said, shaking me slightly. “He definitely does not hate you, Y/N. And besides, you don’t need his opinion. It is unworthy to a queen like you.” I smiled softly, saying a quiet thank you.

“But then, if he doesn’t hate me, then why will he never look at me? Why does he never want to talk to me? Every time I try to approach him, he just runs off in the opposite dire- oh wait.” I stop myself mid-sentence, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. He doesn’t hate me, not at all. Jake was right, I really can be completely oblivious at times I need my mind most.

“About damn time,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, though as much as he was trying to conceal it, you could see the smile pushing at his lips. I smiled back, my mood changes to happiness. I giggled and jumped in my spot, gasping.

“Do you really think so, Jakey?” I ask him, using my childhood nickname for him. He laughed at the old memory and my silliness.

“Yes, I know so. Besides, when have I ever been wrong?” He says with a cheeky smile. I rolled my eyes.

“I can name multiple occasions,” I snapped back playfully, Jake putting a hand over his heart, gaining a look of false hurt. Then he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well I’m sorry that I’m human and make mistakes sometimes, Little Miss Perfect,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. “Now, oh God, I can’t believe I’m saying this. Go get your man, or whatever.” He says, waving me off. I smile, giving him one last bear hug.

“Thank you, Jake! Love you!” I yell as I rush down the hallway, down the stairs.

Dinner had just ended, and it was time for our nightly movies. Well, really, it was just a display of Horace’s dreams, but it was still my favourite time of the day. There was just something very comforting about it.

I walked over to the couch Jake was sitting on with Emma, an empty spot where I usually sit was open as per usual. As I go to sit down, Jake puts his feet up on my spot. I give him a confused look.

“You didn’t do it yet, did you?” He asked, giving me the look. I roll my eyes, trying to move his feet.

“Don’t you worry about it. Tomorrow will be a better day, anyways,” I excuse, giving up on my attempts at trying to unblock my spot. I go to sit on the floor, but once again, my spot was taken up by another pair of feet, this time a woman’s ones. Emma.

“Y/N, you know you have to do it at one point. Knowing Enoch for as long as I have, I know he definitely won’t make the first move, he’ll just keep denying it,” she encourages. “Please, this will benefit both of you.”

I look at her in shock. How did she know about my... situation? Then I turned to Jake, a mixed look of disappointment and embarrassment shown on my face.

“Did you tell her?” I asked. He put his hands up in surrender, quickly shutting down the accusation.

“No! Y/N, I swear it! She’s just really good at this type of stuff. I wouldn’t do that, I promise!” He said quickly, trying to defend himself. I looked even more confused now, looking over at my other friend. She shrugged, smiling slightly.

“It’s true. I can read you like a book. It’s so obvious, for the both of you, really,” she said smartly. “And don’t think that everyone else in here except his doesn’t already know too. You guys are so oblivious.” She rolled her eyes as we giggles and I pushed her lightly, telling her to shut up. Soon, Horace put on his glass and images started to project onto the wall ahead. My friends pushed at me, in the direction of the other couch across the carpet where all the younger children were sitting. And on that couch, none other than Enoch O’Connor himself.

“Go on, Y/N! He really doesn’t have a choice anyway.” Jake said, pushing me more. Emma nodded.

“Yeah, we all know if he tries to leave, The Bird will get pissed. Like last time.” She said, the group of teen taking a moment to shudder at the memory. I straightened up my back and lifted my chin up high, trying to gain confidence.

“You’re right. I guess it’s now or never.” I said. I took a deep breath and tried to walk behind the couch so Enoch wouldn’t expect me, not giving him a chance to run. I plopped down into the seat next to him, sort of scaring him, as it looks. “Hey, Enoch. It’s been a while since we talked.” I tried starting off,  only for him to look me over once before turning back to the ‘movie’. I sighed, how did I think this was going to be a good idea?! “Please, can’t you at least look at me? We seriously need to talk.”

“Maybe later, don’t you see movie night is going on? It would only be disrespectful to interrupt,” he said, turning back at me and talking to me. Wait, he actually talked to me. After months, he really said words that were aimed at my direction. The sensation filling me up with happiness, boosting my determination. “Besides, why did you decide you wanted to sit here? Whatever happened to sitting with Jake and Emma? Why don’t you go back there?” He looked back when he finished, my sky high ego suddenly took a crash landing. Maybe I was wrong about all this, maybe I should just leave. He obviously doesn’t want me around.

‘No, Y/N. You can’t chicken out now. You’re already here, you’ve already come so far,’ my self-conscious tells me. “Well maybe it’s because I wanted to change things up a bit, and sit with you, because you’re cool and all,” I said, sort of rambling on and glancing back at Emma and Jake’s couch, where, thankfully, Olive has taken my place. The three of them paying attention to the dreams about clothing going on right now. “And it also looks like I’ve been replaced, so even if you want me to go, I can’t. Looks like we’re stuck together.” I shrugged my shoulders innocently, nodding over to the trio. Enoch looked slightly shocked at first, but sighed, turning his attention back to me. Wow, I’ve finally gotten his full attention. His eyes look so much prettier up close, pouring into my own.

“That’s fine, I guess.” He said, trying to be cool about it. “But, what was the real reason you came here. I know you never want to leave Jake’s side. You’re like his little puppy.” He added. And that’s when, once again, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Ohhhh, I get it now. You’re jealous!” I said, smiling at him. He looked astounded, trying to pretend he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Jealous? Of what? Jake? Please, why would I be jealous of an idiot like him? Should I be?” He kept asking questions. I continue to laugh as quietly as possible, trying not to disrupt. I felt a giant wave of relief wash over me. This had to mean something, and if it’s what I hope, this could be really good.

“Trust me, you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to Jake and I’s relationship. Just friends... always will be.” I say, leaning back against the couch, taking a glance at the wall that was having Horace's dreams projected onto it. Of course, another one of him visiting his beloved tailor for a snazzy new suit. After smiling fondly at the dream, I turn back to Enoch. I guess you could call him my dream.

“Oh, o-okay” he stuttered out, breaking eye contact. I roll my own eyes, turning his face to look back at mine. I smiled and, surprisingly, he smiled back.

“You know, you had me worried for a long time, I always thought you hated me, and it sucked considering how much I liked you,” I said genuinely, still looking him in the eye, before realizing what I really said. I quickly let go of his face and my eyes went down to look at my playing fingers. “I mean, that is if you do like me. You don’t have to, I’ll understand. God, I just completely missed the message didn’t I? I always mess up-” I continued to ramble, trying to defend myself before something stopped me. 

That something, a pair of slightly chapped, but still soft, pair of lips brought onto my own, one hand on my cheek, another on my waist.

Enoch motherfucking O’Connor you sly little shit.

I quickly responded, my hands flying to the back of his neck, playing with little hairs on the back of it. I smile into the kiss. It was slow and soft, and sadly, short-lived.

There was a sound of someone clearing their throat just behind us. We shot apart, looking at the origin of the noise, seeing Miss Peregrine standing with her arms crossed firmly against her chest, an eyebrow raised, and a stiff posture, but you could still see the slight smile she’s trying to hide. My face and neck go a deep crimson red, turning around to see everyone looking at us now, some in awe, others in disgust. Even Horace stopped his dream to watch the drama unroll, since we know he kills for a good love story.

I look over at the couch on the other side of the room to see Jake, Emma, and Olive all smirking evilly at us, giggling like fourth-grade girls. Jake fakes applause, Emma makes kissy faces, and Olive giving us hand hearts. I shake my head, taking a glance at Enoch, who was already looking at me. He smiles.

“I sure hope there are no shenanigans going on over there, Miss Peregrine’s voice rang out loud. Our heads shot up to her, shaking our heads with muttered ‘no’s and ‘of course not’s. She nodded for head once, before smiling softly and winking at us, before going hard again. “I mean it. Now, let’s go on with the show, shall we?” She said, and all the children’s eyes focused back and the movie started playing again.

“So, just wanted to make this clear, you would want to go on a date with me, yes?” Enoch asked, whispering into my ear. I laughed silently, before turning over and giving him a sneaky kiss on the cheek, making sure no one saw this time.

“Yes, of course,” I whispered back. We grinned at each other before I cuddled into his side, him acting reluctantly but soon gave in. After a bit, I made a realization.“To think, this is all Jake’s fault, he basically forced me here to come to talk to you,” I said, laughing.

“I can’t believe Portman did something right in his life,” Enoch said in fake shock.

_______

_______

_______

I didn’t know how to end this whoops I’m trash sooooory haha  

#miss peregrines home for peculiar children #mphfpc #enoch o'connor x reader #jake portman x reader #platonic #platonic!jake portman x reader #platonic!jake portman #Enoch o'connor #jacob portman #imagine #request #lunalife101

[melodyofgraves]

A little secret (Chambers and Sinclaire friendship)

A/N: Hi, I’m not sure if anyone would even notice if I didn’t say that but I’m taking a little break again. Nothing to worry about, it’s just because my anxiety and stuff got kinda worse and I need a little break from everything. I saw I have a few asks to answer and a few new lovely fics to read and I will do it when I'm fully back.

In the meantime, I decided to post this fic before i’ll hate it so much that I’ll delete it. Also, I’ll probably finish and post the Fluff ABCs for Chanevi soon since it was the second thing some people voted for and writing stuff kinda helps me focus (no matter how bad it is) and I'm already halfway through it.

This is a fic inspired by my love for friendship fics, headcanon that Chambers loves sweets and this line:

Anyway, I’m sorry if it’s stupid and I hope you still manage to enjoy reading!

Words: 1525

Tagging: (please tell me if i forgot anyone or added someone by accident. i have a terrible memory): @hellospunkiebrewster @queerchoicesblog @brightpinkpeppercorn @itsbrindleybinch @pixieferry @akrenich @thehonorarybeaumont

-

Mr Chambers was a rather well-mannered man. He wasn’t easy to provoke, usually fending off any snide remarks with a bright smile. He always tried to be polite and to act properly. He knew the rules of decorum, taught to him from a very young age and he did his best to follow them, no matter the occasion. However, he did have one weakness.

Sweets.

His love for anything sugary stuck with him from his childhood day to adulthood. It wasn’t too severe, whenever he was home he would just have a dessert here and there and it was perfectly fine. But when it came to parties or other social gatherings, where so much food was prepared for the expensive tastes of the gentry, he sometimes suddenly felt a strong urge to stuff his face with cake instead of socializing. And he usually did, when everyone was drunk enough to not even notice him sneaking piece after piece onto his plate. It was one of his favourite things to do at those events, alongside dancing.

So when the doctor suggested that it would be healthy for him if he limited the amount of sugar he ate to the minimum for a while, he knew it won’t be easy.

He asked Yusuf to help him with it, giving the permission to even yell at him if needed, and it was all going surprisingly well. Konevi was very supportive, never going as far as yelling, but he was exceptionally good at giving his partner stern looks whenever the man was doing something he shouldn’t. However, he did always try to make up for it by wrapping Bart in his arms after their meal and giving him a sweet kiss, which made this situation much more bearable.

But the real challenge came with social events. They were invited to the dinner party at Ledford, the first gathering there since Mr and Mrs Sinclaire came back from their honeymoon, and Bartholomew was just dying to ask Lucy all about their trip to Bath.

The evening was very lovely, as always when they visited Ledford Park, and very crowded since Mrs Sinclaire became quite well-liked among the gentry and seemed to have invited half the people she met in London. And that meant that not only Mr Chambers was forbidden from eating any of the delicious looking desserts served at the party, he also couldn’t count on much privacy with his lover.

However, that didn’t seem to stop the barrister to appear behind him every time he reached for the piece of the fruit cake he was eyeing all evening.

„Mr Chambers.” he heard a calm voice beside his ear. „Have you forgotten what the doctor said?”

„The doctor said I can have a biscuit or a little bit of cake from time to time.”

„And you asked me for help specifically because you knew this little bit of cake will quickly turn into a lot of cake, especially when you’re at a party.”

„Please…” Bart gave the man his best puppy look. Konevi looked like me might actually give in but quickly composed himself.

„No. I promised that I will help you and I want to keep this promise.” he moved closer, lowering his voice even more. „Maybe later we’ll manage to sneak away to one of the guest rooms for a moment? And I’ll make it up to you.” he wiggled his eyebrows a little, causing Chambers to chuckle.

„I’m afraid it won’t be as easy tonight with…” he was interrupted by a middle-aged man, who Bartholomew recognized as one of the barrister’s ex-clients, approaching them.

„Oh, Mr Konevi! How nice to see you here. May I have a word?”

„Of course, Mr Burk.” Yusuf nodded, walking towards the other side of the room.

Bart looked around and his eyes landed on the fruit cake again. He bit his lip, hesitating, but decided to take a chance. He moved a piece onto his plate, glancing at his partner who seemed to be deep in the conversation with the gentleman, and turned around to the hallway. He felt a little guilty for doing something behind Yusuf’s back, especially something so silly, but decided he’ll just tell him after the treat finds its way to his stomach.

He slipped into one of the rooms, that according to what Lady Lucy has told him after her wedding, weren’t really used anymore. His dear friend probably gave him this information as a hint that should he and his lover need a little privacy, they can always hide in one and nobody should bother them. He didn’t imagine he’d use this suggestion for such a silly reason though. He entered the room, expecting an empty space where he could eat his treat in peace.

-

What he didn’t expect was to find the master of the house, staring at him with eyes wide open and cheeks stuffed with the cake. They both stood there, frozen in place with plates in their hands, before Mr Sinclaire finally cleared his throat, composing himself.

„Mr Chambers.” he greeted, clearly embarrassed as he brushed some of the crumbs from his face with the back of his hand.

„I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bart was still standing in the open doorway, completely caught off guard. „I’ll find another room…”

„No, please come in.” Ernest gestured towards the armchairs standing next to the window. „Just please shut the door behind you.”

Bartholomew slowly closed the door, careful not to make too much noise, and sat in one of them, joining Sinclaire. The room was dimly lit by only one candle place on the coffee table, where he also noticed a small tray with some more cake and a piece of a pie. He raised his eyebrows and looked at the man beside him with a puzzled look.

„I usually ask the cook to prepare a tray like this before big events. So I can enjoy it in peace.” Ernest explained, looking down at his shoes like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t do. „My wife teases me about it mercilessly.”

„Don’t worry, sir. Your secret is safe with me.” Chambers chuckled. „You know, you’ve never struck me as someone with a sweet tooth. Maybe because of that sour expression.” he ripped a piece of the treat, not even bothering with a fork, and stuffed it in his mouth with an amused smile.

Mr Sinclaire glared at him. „And what are you doing here? We’ve known each other for years and I can say with confidence that everyone knows about your fondness for desserts.” the gentleman took a big bite out of his own pastry.

Bart put more cake into his mouth and sighed before explaining the whole situation.

„I’m glad you also found someone who cares about you ” Ernest smiled at his friend. „And Mr Konevi is right. You even asked him to keep an eye on you yourself.”

„I know. And I hate doing anything behind his back, even something so stupid. I’ll tell him as soon as I can.”

„Good.”

The conversation ended. Bart knew Mr Sinclaire long enough to know that he wasn’t exactly fond of pointless ramblings, so they just sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying their food and listening to the faint sound of pianoforte from the other side of the house.

Bartholomew finished his dessert and reached for another piece from the tray but Sinclaire swiftly pulled it away. „Hey!”

„You said it yourself. Only a little cake from time to time.” he chuckled quietly at his friend pouting face. „ You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for helping the woman I love. With the proposal and such.”

“Don’t mention it. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for helping my friend. ” Chambers gave him a bright smile, visible even in the poor lighting of the room. “She looks so happy with you. And you look happy too. A very nice change after all those years.”

There was a moment of silence again and a soft smile found its way onto Ernest’s face, as he always when he thought about his darling wife.

“Thank you. You look happy too.” he gave his friend a nod. „It’s so good you and Konevi found each other.”

„Thank you. Truly.”

The sudden knock on the door interrupted their conversation and a very familiar face poked through it. The barrister gave Bart a stern look and he responded with an apologetic one but still felt the butterflies in his stomach, just like every time he saw him.

„I’m sorry, Mr Sinclaire, but I think Mr Chambers and I have some important matters to discuss.” he gestured for Bartholomew to join him in the hallway.

„Oh, please, come inside. I need to find my wife before she goes looking for me as well anyway.” Ernest grabbed the rest of his dessert and stuffed it into his mouth in a very ungentlemanly way. On his way out, the man looked over his shoulder, smiling at his friend, and left the couple alone in the room.

#desire and decorum #bartholomew chambers #ernest sinclaire #friendship fic #chanevi #just a little though #im sorry if it doesnt make sense #ugh #ill stop talking and log out again for now #hope ill see you soon #sorry for whining in the a/n #long post

[marvel-af]

For The Best (Part 3)

 Alrightly sorry for such a long wait, but here it is! yay! Let me know if you’re enjoying this series! Please. I live off praise. Also, i really suck at tagging, so if you want to be tagged please message me separately. Also, I post this on my AO3 as well, so if you see it anywhere else, thats still me. Thank you so much for reading :)

Special thanks to @petey-verse for being the best human ever 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (if you squint)  

Warnings: Depression, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, Cancer 

Word Count: 2457

Silence.

Deafening silence.

Dr. Barton’s grim expression, it radiates pity.

His lips are moving, but she only hears the painful silence.

Someone grabs her hand; Sarah. Y/N turns her head and and sees her friend with fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Tears for Y/N.

The silence is replaced with a dull ringing noise deep within her brain.

Cancer? A tumor?

“I-I don’t understand.” Y/N chokes out. Sarah covers her mouth with her hand, attempting to stop her crying.

“It seems that a tumor has grown in your stomach. That was shown in the MRI we took as you can see here,” Dr. Barton hands a tablet over with a black and white picture that she doesn’t really understand. “We know its cancer because of the blood test we took earlier.”

Y/N sits still for a second, letting the words Dr. Barton said sink in. Insurmountable fear courses through her veins and she feels the hair on her body prickle.

“So, I’m going to die?” Y/N asks. The hand that was pressed over Sarah's mouth drops and the sobs that were once under control now fill the room with noise.

“We are going to do everything in our power to keep that from happening Y/N. Your treatment plan is going to start as soon as possible.” Dr. Barton insists. Y/N nods.

“So I’m not going to die, I’m just going to wish I was dead.” Y/N mutters and sinks further into the bed. Lucky for her, Dr. Barton and Sarah didn’t hear her depressing comment.

“Okay, if you have any questions, just call for a nurse to get me.” Dr. Barton says before leaving the room. The loud sound of the door closing seems to shake Sarah out of her sorrow. She looks up at Y/N.

“Are you okay?” Sarah says softly. Y/N just rolls her eyes.

“Maybe, it’s time to call your dad?” Sarah says pulling out Y/N’s phone.

“Uh- yeah, I think you might be right. I’ll do it. He’ll want to hear it from me.” Y/N rushes out.

“Okay. I guess since we're going to be here for a while, I’ll go pick up some stuff. Make this room feel more comfortable. Are you good to be alone for a few hours?” Sarah asks. Y/N nods and takes her phone from Sarah.

Once she’s alone, she opens up her dads contact. The smiling contact picture stares back at her. Who was she make him upset and ruin that happy smile? She exits his contact and and clicks on Derek's. The phone rings a few time before Derek picks up.

“Hello, who is this?” Derek says. He had already deleted her number, that stung.

“Uh- it’s Y/N.” She chokes out. Derek sighs.

“What’s up?” He whispers. Sounds like he’s moving around.

“Derek, I’m in trouble. I-I need help.” Y/N whimpers.

“Y/N, seriously, what's going on?”

“I’m in the hospital. I, I have cancer, in my stomach, they said gastric an-and,” Y/N cries. Derek audibly gasps, cutting her off.

“Y/N. I’m so sorry. What hospital are you at?” Derek yells.

“Mercy Grace. Derek I’m so sorry. You really don’t have to come. I just wanted you to know, ya know.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll be there in a few.” Derek says, and she can hear his car door open then slam shut. The call then ends.

The ER is slow today. Peter assumes it’s due to it being a weekday, with all the kids in school. MJ and Ned are standing at the front desk, waiting for anyone to come in. He almost drags his body over to the desk.

“I need sleep.” Peter whines, throwing his upper half over the hard surface. MJ lets out a laugh, but it’s more of a deep exhale.

“You, kind sir, are preaching to the choir.” MJ smiles.

“Yeah well, I’m fine.” Ned shrugs. Peter raises his head and glares at Ned.

“Oh, can we please go to the roof today for lunch? It’s so nice out and I could use some fresh air to wake me up.” Peter suggests.

“I’m down.” MJ says pulling out a chart and scribbling something down.

“Sure, it’s not like I have anything better to do.” Ned chuckles.

The door to the emergency room pushes open and a man rushes through. The gang quickly perks up, ready to help when the man comes over to a table.

“I-I know the emergency room is for emergencies only, but there’s no parking near the main entrance, and I really need to see my gir- uh, ex-girlfriend.” The man quickly rambles.

“Okay, I need her name.” Peter says, helping the man, which causes Ned and MJ to move away to check on patients.

“Uh, Y/N Y/L/N, she said she has cancer.” The man says. Y/N Y/L/N, Peter quickly wonders if that was the girl he helped with the needles, but pushes the thought aside. He types her name onto the tablet and pulls up her information.

“Okay, Y/N Y/L/N is on the second floor, room 44.” Peter says, expecting the man to thank him and quickly walk away, but instead he stays at the desk.

“I-I don’t know if I can go up there. I told her I would come but I haven’t seen her since she broke my heart. And now she has cancer.” The man trails off. Peter senses the man’s worry and he decides to help this man.

“Okay, what’s your name?”

“Derek.”

“Alright Derek. How ‘bout I walk you up there, make sure you don’t run away or anything.” Peter offers. Derek nods, but still stays planted to a tile on the floor. Peter moves around the desk and places a hand on Derek’s back.

“Let’s go.” Peter urges. Finally Derek moves.

The door to Y/N’s room rattles with a knock before being pushed open. Peter walks in with Derek following behind him.

“Hey you.” Peter says, instantly realizing that his hunch was correct. So the vomiting was because of cancer. He stays quiet, knowing that Y/N is staring Derek behind him.

“Hey Peter, could we, uh, have a minute?” Y/N asks motioning to Derek.

“Of course.” Peter smiles backing out of the room. Derek slowly moves to the seat next to the bed and lowers himself onto it.

“Are you here alone?” Derek asks.

“No, uh, Sarah’s been here with me, since we ya know.” Y/N whispers.

“Okay, that's good.” Derek says, but his mind is running almost too fast to think of anything to say.

“Derek, I want to get back together, I miss you. And look at what’s happened since we broke up. I got cancer and I don't think I can do this without you.” Y/N says, and it cuts through Derek like a blade.

“We want different things Y/N. We broke up for a reason and I understand you are going through a tough time, but we can not get back together. And this might make me sound like a complete dick but if you want to get back together, I can’t be around you.” Derek says standing up.

Y/N eyes water and she feels as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

“Okay, You should probably go then.” Y/N says, holding in her tears. Derek moves towards the door and grasps the handle.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Derek says before leaving the room, and Y/N’s life. Her watery eyes sting and the corners of her mouth seem to be stuck in a permanent frown. She slowly pulls herself out of bed and begins pacing the small room. Her I.V. drip is being pulled by the stuck arm as her socked feet shuffle along. Quickly the room becomes too small and she opens the door and peeks into the hallway.

The air in the hallway is the same to the air in her small room, hot and stuffy. She needs to get out. The air outside would definitely be better than this suffocating air. Her feet carry her to an elevator, to which she pushes the button for the roof. She silently is thankful for the slight luck of coming to a hospital with easy roof access. Nobody else is in the elevator with her, which she is also thankful for. The slow ride to the roof makes Y/N think about why exactly she picked the roof over the ground, the thought makes Y/N’s eyes water again. The elevator dings and the doors open on a small rooftop.

The area is empty, besides a small picnic table and a few potted plants. She walks over to the table and sits down. Her tears finally begin to fall at thought of Derek and her grim life expectancy. The panic and anxiety forms a pit in her stomach, almost like a sibling to the cancer, eating away at her until she’s nothing.

Soon, the bench becomes to confining, so she stands abruptly, knocking the bench over.

“Shit.” The profanity flows from her mouth quietly while she attempts to shuffle her way towards the ledge of the building. The IV pulling on her arm is not helping the dangerous thoughts, so she pulls the needle out of her arm with a short yelp.

Finally free from the confines of the IV and table, she slowly walks toward the edge of the building. Sitting on the ledge of the building with her legs hanging off, she weighs her options.

Jump and die.

Cancer and die.

Or stay, go through treatment, possibly live.

Salty tears flow from her eyes, leaving streaks down her cheeks. The body-shaking sobs that are pulled from her body make it hard to breathe and the mucus dripping from her nose is left dripping into her mouth and down to her chin a bit.

She knows she needs to calm down. She knows that for sure. She attempts deep breaths until her breathing calms to a slower pace. She takes the shoulder of her hospital gown and uses it to wipe her face down, trying to hide the tear streaks enough to walk back down to her room.

“Peter I can’t believe you got three sandwiches!” MJ laughs between bites of her apple.

“Wha, I’m a hungry guy.” Peter says shrugging his shoulders. The elevator doors open onto the rooftop and Peter immediately notices the knocked over bench and the patient-less IV stand.

“Oh my God.” MJ whispers, before rushing over to the patient sitting on the ledge. Peter and Ned follow close behind her to try and help.

“Hey.” MJ says softly as to not scared the patient. The girl whips her head around to see the group of nurse standing behind her. It’s Y/N.

“Y/N, hey. What brings you up here?” Peter asks quietly. Y/N let’s out a wet laugh. Her face is still red from what Peter assumes must be crying.

“What? I’m not allowed to get some air,” Y/N questions, “because ya know, it’s way to hot in that hospital.” Peter nods with a smile.

“I know, I’m gonna have to talk with someone about that.” Ned smiles. Y/N swings her legs over, placing them on solid ground and MJ lets out a breath.

“You’re allowed to get air Y/n, you are not allow to take out your IV, and you definitely are not allowed to to sit on the ledge.” MJ states. Y/N’s face falls from a playful smile to a guilty, kicked puppy type look.

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” Y/N solemnly whispers.

“It’s okay.”

Peter helps Y/N stand up and moves her towards the abandoned IV stand. Ned grabs the stand, MJ grabs the food, and the group gets back into the elevator. The ride down is silent. Peter knows what Y/N was doing up there, and is terrified at the thought of what may have happened if he hadn’t insisted that they ate lunch on the roof. He knows about her cancer diagnosis, but he did not know about the ex-boyfriend, or apparently the depression.

Once back in her room, MJ replaces the IV bag, but this time Y/N doesn’t yell and cry through it, instead she clamps her eyes shut until the needle is in. Ned sits down on the windowsill and unwraps his lunch. Peter open one of his sandwiches and begins to munch down.

“Sure, make yourselves at home.” Y/N grits as MJ wraps her arm in a bandage, to keep the IV in.

“Sorry, we can leave if you want, it’s just…” Ned starts.

“No, stay. I need the company anyways.”

MJ finishes getting Y/N back into the bed, then sits next to Ned on the windowsill. That leaves the seat next to the bed for Peter, which he takes hesitantly.

“Y/N, if you ever want to talk, I- uh, we are here for you. Whether as a friend or as a nurse. I’ve got your back.” Peter says. Y/N looks at Peter with an expression he can’t exactly place. Disgust? Appreciation? He couldn’t tell.

“Well thanks, but I don’t want pity, especially from some people I don’t even know.” Y/N whispers.

“Well we can change that, tell me about yourself!” Ned smiles.

“Why do you guys want to know me?”

“I just want to open your support pool. Cancer is a lot to deal with, and I know you have your friend that came with you, but you need people to lean on.” Peter rambles.

“I never told you about my cancer?”

“Well your in the oncology ward, and Derek mentioned it when I brought him up here.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Of course he did.” Y/N groans.

A nurse walks in with a tray of food and places it down on the tray with a smile. Y/N returns the smile and thanks her. Once the nurse is gone Y/N takes one look at the food on the tray and nearly gags.

“Alright, here’s the deal, you guys can come eat your lunch in here everyday, as long as you bring me some real food instead of this.” Y/N says gesturing to the tray in front of her. Peter smiles.

“Deal.” MJ and Ned say simultaneously. Peter hands one of his sandwiches to Y/N who smiles and accepts it.

“So, anyone watch Supernatural?” Y/N asks, trying to spur a conversation. MJ perks up.

“I do!”

The group falls into easy conversation until Sarah returns, then continues with the help of another fan.

Tag List:

@xxxxdelenaxxxx @dashlilymark @itsteatimelovely @starkillazz @sarahsassafras13 @brokenuntilapril26th2019 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #MJ Jones #ned leeds #nurse!peter parker #nurse au #peter parker nurse au #tw; hospital #tw: depression #TW; Depression #tw: suidice #tw; suidice #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #peter parker series #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural mention #clint barton

[lawgrain]

Copycat

Fandom: Phandom (Dan and Phil)

Pairings: ... Take a guess

Summary: Dan and Phil have never been Dan and Phil and if it were up to Phil, things would stay that way. Things might of even stayed that way if Phil hadn’t trashed Dan in a livestream.

Author’s note: This has been in my docs forever as well. I don’t in any way see this as a reflection of reality and is super ooc at first, Let me know how it’s liked. Also if this seems like odd timing or anything, I posted this a bit ago, and privated it along with deleting quite a few other posts of mine, and now I’m just unpivating the post again. It was quite the journey

Chapter 1

Phil's POV

“Karen521 asked what socks am I wearing. I won't actually show you because it'd be too hard to show you but one has some colorful geometric shape things on it and the other has polar bears so they’re pretty fun.” Phil kept reading questions in the blur of people chatting in the livestream.

He never really preferred live streams but knew his viewers loved it. Phil didn't enjoy the spontaneity and the lack of preparation involved with livestreams. Scripts and actions were not an option in real time and it was hard trying to keep people entertained for that long. It was almost impossible to think that anyone's everyday life could be that fascinating. But the people liked interacting with Phil and he was nothing if not a people-pleaser.

“LesterLover48 asks if I plan to make a Phil vs. Friends Games video soon. Not currently. I'd have to ask someone to come on my channel for that and I don't know if anyone's available. I usually just do those randomly. That’s probably why I don't have that many,” Phil said with a small chuckle at the end, still mindlessly reading aloud comments.

“Someone says ‘I can't wait till you make another video’. AmazingAmandy says ‘go outside and make some more friends Phil’. Ha! Thanks, I could use some more sun. ShipperQueen29 says to ask danisnotonfire.” Phil froze after the last comment.

Crap this is going to open up the floodgates, isn't it?

Yep. Now everyone was focused on danisnotonfire. Phil hates danisnotonfire.

Phil wasn't quick to hatred but the younger man had become a nuisance ever since he started YouTube. At first, when Phil took notice of the kid it had been flattering if not cute. Dan was obviously new to making videos and it looked like he was trying to imitate Phil like a little kid would with their older sibling. Now it wasn't so cute.

Phil couldn't exactly say Dan was imitating him completely. No, over time the teen had found his identity and took a much more of a pessimist and crude tone than anything Phil would do. That seemed to be where their differences ended. They both did story videos, both had the same haircuts, and both had the same bedspread even if the colors were different. Wheat the younger youtuber had done infuriated Phil. It felt like someone had taken every aspect of his life just to morph it and call it their own.

It bugged Phil a lot. He had to put up with similar crap from other YouTubers whenever he made a tag but somehow what danisnotonfire went farther. It wasn't just one idea or a couple of videos. It was a perversion of everything Phil ever did.

The other problem came with their fandoms. While Phil and Dan had never met, their similarities led their fans to believe that they were meant for each other. With the slightest mention of Dan, they became sharks attacking any sign of a ship. Progressively this ended up fueling Phil's resentment towards the other. It got to the point where the very mention of the other annoyed Phil.

And now the comment section was full of ship comments.

Great.

Phil seeing the comments tried to change the topic. He began rambling off about different things going on his life but no one seemed to get sidetracked from the danisnotonfire topic.

“So what else has been going on lately? I'm thinking about visiting my mum soon.” Phil finally takes a glance down at the comments.

“You should visit Dan ;)”

I am so done.

“Look, not to be rude, but honestly can we get off the Dan topic? I've never even met him and don't watch his channel.” Phil felt defeated.

“Why don't you watch your bf?” Phil read aloud. And then he snapped.

“Oh my god, because I don't like Dan! His content isn't that original and he basically has the same branding as me but more gloomy and depressing. I don't see the charm in it and I'm tired of everyone asking about a guy I don't even know.” Phil was a bit stunned that he responded like that. He hoped that he didn't say anything too offensive, especially considering that he meant everything he said.

He noticed some had dropped out of the stream but there were no comments about Dan as the stream continued on.

Phil would count that as a win.

Dan's POV

From Tyler:

“Did you see the video?”

To Tyler:

“Um… what video?”

From Tyler:

“Omg ok there's a Phil video right now about you”

“Give me the word and I'll come down and cut a bitch”

To Tyler:

“lol I don't think that'll be necessary. I'll watch the video weirdo”

From Tyler:

“I mean it! I'll cut a bitch!”

Dan chuckled to himself. He loved Tyler. Platonically, of course, but he was definitely one of Dan's best friends. Having that been said he was a bit dramatic and Dan was sure there was nothing to be worried about as he searched for a video involving AmazingPhil and himself.

“PHIL HATES DAN?!?!?”

It’s a good guess that's the video he's meant to be watching. Dan thought nothing of the title, assuming it was clickbait by overzealous fans.

And then he watched it. He physically flinched watching as Phil threw his insecurities out for the world.

To Tyler:

“Hey. I watched it...”

From Tyler:

“Who am I cutting? I'll cut them all”

To Tyler:

“No, no need for that”

From Tyler:

“Srsly say the word and I'll do it”

To Tyler:

“Down boy. It’s just you don't think he’s right do you?”

“That I'm just depressing and unoriginal?”

Please say no...

From Tyler:

“The only true words in that video are that he doesn't know you. You are wonderful!”

To Tyler:

“If you say so. Thanks for letting me know but please don't do or say anything. I know you live in America but I expect no cutting people with knives or anything else”

From Tyler:

“Fine but if you need anything I'm here ok?”

To Tyler:

“I know. Thanks Tyler”

From Tyler:

“Sure thing

Yeah Dan loved Tyler. Too bad he lived in America. So Dan was alone.

I'm pathetic. Why should I even care about this? And– shit!

Dan looked at the comments on the video and it was mayhem. It was like someone put two fandoms at war and the neutral side was scrambling. He saw his own fans start to slash into Phil's character and Phil's fans not only defend Phil but also start to point out more flaws of Dan's.

It didn't help that as he continued reading the comment section, Dan only felt worse about himself. He watched as more and more people spoke about how they thought of Dan and he simply couldn't find enough good comments to outweigh how the bad ones felt.

It was ugly and it was hurtful.

And it felt true.

That was something Dan hated about himself, but the more he read the comments, the more he felt like they were true. He knew that deep down what they said shouldn’t matter, that they were wrong but even things said in anger had some ring of truth to it. Whatever that truth was, Dan just wanted it all to stop.

Endnote: I hope that was enjoyable. Also I realize that things might seem a bit ooc. It just because it’s a story and eventual character development.

#fanfiction #phanfiction