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#whoever was like 'can you draw your words out even longer that would be great' needs to be hit with a wrapping paper tube
sniperct · 4 months
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getting new FF14 story content so soon after I caught up to dragonflight is a kick in the gut at how much better at storytelling CBU3 is compared to blizzard lol
Gonna get a better comparison when I do the DF epilogue and the gilneas reclamation later or tomorrow lol
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txemrn · 1 year
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Somewhere Else
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Book: The Nanny Affair, Book 3
Word Count: ~4730 (I haven't written TNA in a loooong time... I had a lot to say)
Song Inspo: "Paris" by Taylor Swift
Summary: Brynn (MC) reminisces about her whirlwind of a wedding day that was filled with jitters and professions of love.
Warning: a little language; fluff; bits of angst
AN: This is my submission for @moodmusicmonday's the Luck of the Draw! I'm not exactly a Swiftie, but this was so much fun, gleaning inspo from a song I otherwise would never have known! Thank you to whoever sent it, and to my amazing counter-part @sfb123 (who... I don't know if y'all know this, but she has been running MMM for most--if not all--of 2023): thank you for hosting this event, sister! You did a GREAT job!
A/N 2: These characters, some of the plot and even some of the dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Not truly preread or beta'd, so please excuse my errors!
~🖤~
Present
"... tonight on ET, we have the wedding exclusive of billionaire bachelor Samuel Dalton and his nanny-turned-fiancée Brynn Schuyler–"
The glow of the screen flickers to black before hosting a new picture.
"... I'm here with the groom's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mason Dalton. Seeing your son at the altar like that, tell us –"
 The soft click of a button changes to another channel.
"...the two are pictured here before they scurried off to an undisclosed location, some believe they are still here in Mexico–"
He turns off the television before tossing the remote onto the coffee table in our suite.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket, running an anxious hand through his thick, chestnut waves. No doubt, he's staring at dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts. 
I don't know if it was the turning of the bathroom doorknob, or if he could hear my nervous, labored breathing, but he abruptly stops, dropping his phone as he fixes his hungry gaze to me. A crooked smile forms as he devours me with his dark eyes, the flecks of copper reflecting in the candlelight.
Butterflies evade my belly as I stand before him, wearing nothing but the white shirt from his tux. I fidget with the cuffs of the long sleeves as they keep falling past my hands. I can feel him watching my body, an innocent awe etching across his face.
"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt." I blush, averting my eyes as the oversized cotton material slouches off of my sunkissed shoulder, exposing my bare skin.  "I don't exactly have anything else–"
"It's perfect," he croons softly. He stalks closer to me, his hands finding mine. "You really think I wanted to see you a moment longer in that dress?" He chuckles, the warmth in his tone exhilarating my senses.
We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes locked on one another. 
We're finally here.
Him. And me. Forever.
------
Earlier that day
“...So as I look to our… to our–” I pause from my neurotic pacing, glancing down at my notes before quickly darting my eyes away once again.  I wrote my wedding vows weeks ago, and had no problem memorizing them. But something about today… something is freaking me out.
“So as I look to our future, I vow to… I vow to, um… Damnit!”  I hold up my vows again, but with my clumsy, nervous fingers, I accidentally drop the index cards. “Shit! Shit!”  I try to catch them as each one floats into various directions all over the floor, some of them finding their way underneath the furniture of my bridal dressing room suite.  With a heavy sigh, I crawl on my knees, attempting to reach the ones that fell under the coffee table. 
“Happy wedding day–!”
I jump.  The sudden chirp of my best friend's voice causes the back of my skull to meet the glass table with an abrupt thud followed by a tearful groan. "Ow!"  I fall forward, my face finding the ornate rug as my fingers shield my now-aching head.
"Brynn!" Jenny panics, seeing my body now splayed on the floor. Aditya helps me up, assisting me to a nearby chaise lounge.  Marisol fills a tea towel with ice before applying it to the back of my head with care. Jenny plops down next to me, biting her nail in worry. "What were you doing down there?"
I force a cordial smile, holding up a single note card. "Vows," I mutter, the small gesture making me wince from the surge of pain.
"Ahh! Your vows!" Jenny squeals at a higher decibel than normal. "You're finally a blushing bride!  Can you believe it?"
"I… I can't believe it." My eyes widen in shock. I'm trying to match my best friend's enthusiasm, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm missing the bride gene. You know; the one that makes you giggle like a schoolgirl  at even the dumbest jokes and cry happy, pretty tears at everything bridal.
 Me? I think I'm about to hurl.
Jenny grabs my hand, admiring my engagement ring yet again.  I blame her pregnancy hormones, and her desire to be locked down with someone.  No doubt, she'd prefer Aditya, but at this point, I think she'll take anyone.
"Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton," Jenny singsongs, letting go of my fingers. She clasps her hands dreamily with a far-off daze in her bronze eyes.
I stare back down at the heavy rock on my finger, my arm growing fatigue under its weight. The glint from the sun catches the cut diamond just right, casting blinding fractals in my eyes. I hiss from the abrupt intrusion of bright light to my vision.
Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton, I repeat to myself.  "I'm… I'm getting married," I state matter-of-factly as a catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror. "I'm… getting…" my voice becomes softer, more hoarse as I stand to look closer at myself. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton…" I can't seem to catch my breath as I watch my bridal party pop open a bottle of chilled champagne–and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. My voice grows louder, anxious. And terrified. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton… today!"
"Yes!" Jenny celebrates passing me a flute, "isn't this awesome?" She cheers with my glass before I watch the others lift their drinks in my honor. And everyone seems to freeze, staring at me to say something. 
Truth is… I have no words. Oh God, what is happening?
"It's… awesome," I choke out, hoping my bright smile will convince them. And convince me. I quickly down the entire glass.
“I’m so excited for you and Sam," Jenny continues to gloat.
"Me and Sam." I take a deep cleansing breath. Right. Eye on the prize, Brynn. Me and Sam. It's just you and Sam. It's just you… and…
“So how’re you holding up?" Marisol takes a seat on a couch, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "I remember I was an absolute wreck at my wedding. Any pre-wedding jitters?”
Jenny chuckles, waving her hand in the air as if the mention of nerves is preposterous. "Jitters? This gal has been dreaming about this day since she met the hottie."
Aditya snickers. He saunters up close to Jenny, wrapping his arms around her waist before taking a sip of his bubbly drink.
I glance around the room, everyone's attention stuck on me. Damnit, I know I'm the bride and today is about me.  But does everyone have to be staring at me like that, like I've given them a new hope in love, that love does conquer all, that Sam and I are their new favorite fairy tale? 
"Right, Brynn?" Jenny prompts when I stay silent, nodding her head.
“I… feel like I’ve never been more ready for anything." I take a deep cleansing breath before curling my lips into a bright grin.  "No jitters. No doubts.”
Jenny claps her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Then let’s get you to the altar–starting with your dress!”
The dress… my wedding dress… right…
------
Present
My cell phone rings, the chime breaking us both from the haze of the day.  I had put it on Do Not Disturb when we left the ceremony, save for a few numbers. I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.
And I don't care.
He smirks, nodding over his shoulder. "You gonna get that?"
I step forward, sliding my hands up the firm planes of his chest until I intertwine my fingers behind his neck. I shake my head. "Nothing could be more important than being here with you, being us."
Slipping his arms around my waist, he tenderly presses his forehead to mine. He nuzzles his nose flesh to my skin, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. His mouth is a breath away from discovering my own… when my phone rings again.
He smirks, chuckling at the annoyance and slightly pulling away.
"Damnit," I mutter.
He kisses my temple. "Go ahead," he encourages, "it'll be like ripping off a band-aid." He teasingly spanks my ass.  "And then I'll kiss it and make it better."
“Promise?” I snicker, enjoying his hands on me, but reality quickly sets in. My eyes flutter close as my heart begins to pound like a drum in my chest. Just face the music… 
I walk over to grab my phone, peering at the screen.  I cinch my eyes closed again before swiping to answer the call.
"Hey–"
"Oh, thank God!" Jenny shouts through my speaker. "When you weren't answering, I just assumed the worst–"
"Jenny, I–"
"You guys just left," she nervously titters, "no goodbyes or anything. We went to your room, and–"
"Listen, I can't stay long. But everything is okay. Better, actually. And we're safe. We found another place to stay... You know? Get away from the chaos and the press." I chew on the inside of my mouth. "Can you… tell Moma that?"
"Yeah, of course, but Brynny… are you–"
"Jenny, stop. I promise, I will tell you everything when we get back from our trip. Okay?"  My best friend doesn't respond right away, and I'm not sure if my answers satisfy her genuine curiosity.
"I… I just want to make sure you're happy."
I look at the beautiful man sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. And suddenly, I am overwhelmed with feelings of joy as I see our future play out in front of me. With our kids. The business. With each other. And it all finally seems so perfectly clear.
"Jen," my eyes sting with pricks of tears, "I've never been happier."
------
Earlier that day…
"Brynn! Brynn!"
Startled, I spin around to see my favorite boys bounding around the foyer. "Whoa, whoa, you guys–" They crash into my arms as I bend down to catch them. I pepper kisses into their handsome curls, breathing in their scent that always feels like home. Gosh, my boys… 
Mickey stands tall with his arms behind his back. “Miss Naya told us to give you this!” He pulls out my bouquet of fresh roses, a bountiful collection of gorgeous creams and soft pale pinks. "Tada!"
My breath hitches, taken aback by how absolutely dreamy everything has turned out. This wedding… it… it's really happening. I take the bouquet, the sweet floral notes dancing around me before I turn to look at two pairs of glittering eyes. 
"It's almost as pretty as you, Brynn," Mason pushes his glasses up his nose.
"Just like a princess," Mickey chimes in.
“You two look pretty sharp yourselves,” I wink, adjusting Mason’s bowtie before fixing a wayward curl behind Mickey’s ear. "Do you have the rings like we practiced?"
The twins nod their heads in unison, pulling out the velvet boxes. "I promise we won't drop them," Mickey flashes a worried glance.
"Baby," I cup his freckled cheek, "you're going to do just fine." I place my hand on Mason's shoulder. "Both of you."
"Do we have to call you 'Mom' after you marry Dad?" Mason innocently questions.
Mom. The word hits like a brick in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be someone's mother… not just one person, but I'm going to be a mother of two… 
And this is no surprise to me. Afterall, Mickey and Mason are the entire reason I even met this family. I've only known the Daltons for less than a year, and yet, I have been one of the only mother figures in their young lives. When I agreed to marry Sam, it was a package deal.
God, I love them so much. They have given me so much joy, even on days I didn't think I was going to make it. Between the incessant fights and the scandals, these two precious boys have seen me and loved me for me. They were my family long before… well, long before Sam and me…
I can't imagine living a day without a joke or a prank from those two… but being their actual mother? Making sure these two boys grow into successful men? 
"Well?" Mickey prompts for an answer to his brother's question.
I pull them both into a tight hug. "You two can call me whatever you want. The most important thing you need to know is I will always be here for you two."
"And Dad," Mickey teases, grinning.
"Right, Brynn?" Mason tugs on my elbow.
"Miss Schuyler," a deep, familiar voice resonates through the waiting area, tearing me from my conversation with the boys. "You are absolutely ravishing, my dear."
"Oh, Mr. Carter, you old dog," I blush as the tall, older gentleman dressed in a neatly pressed tux approaches us. I embrace him tightly as he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. 
"Well, let me take a look at you," he gleefully laughs, taking me by the hand. He twirls me in a circle, the skirt of my dress flouncing out like a dream.  Carter playfully whistles. "Enchanting," he grins, his gray eyes twinkling as his voice grows softer. "You remind me so much of my Evelyn on our wedding day." 
My eyes glisten at the mention of his wife. Unfortunately, she couldn't be with us today. Carter says that she has her 'good days and bad days,' I sense the latter outweighs the former, but still the way he speaks of his wife of forty years is precious, the envy of my dreams and future. 
I offer him a kind smile, trying to blink back the tears, but I can feel my face begin to flush. 
Suddenly, the gentle crescendo of music coming from the chapel notifies us that it's time for the ceremony to start. Carter and I give the boys one more glance, reminding them to walk slowly and to smile. Mickey and Mason hear their cue, and just like we rehearsed, they begin their trek to the altar.
And now... I'm next.
Carter begins to leave to sneak back into his seat, but I grab him by his arm.  I start to fidget with the boutonnière on his lapels. "Mr. Carter, I… I… did you maybe… I don't know–"
He takes my hands in his, calming my trembling fingers. "Miss Schuyler, take a deep breath."
I follow his directions, taking a deep gulp of air. "Jitters, right?" I exhale, fanning myself with my hand. "Perfectly normal, right?"
Carter kindly nods, guiding me slowly to the entrance. "When you step in there, find Mr. Dalton's eyes, and you stay focused on them. That's what helped on our wedding day."
"So you were nervous, too?" I glance down the aisle, noticing the twins are halfway to their spots. I quickly step back, my eyes fluttering closed. "And that helped you?"
He curls his lips endearingly. "It helped Evelyn."
"Really?" My eyes widen. "How?
He smirks as he recalls the memory. "We came from different families, you know? And because of that, she was terrified on what was supposed to be the best day of our lives. Seeking the approval of her parents, her family, even some of her friends… It was a lot of pressure on her."
"Gosh, that must've been hard."
"It was," he nods, "but, she said that on that day, she found my eyes… and they said everything that she needed to know."
My heart swoons at the thought. "She saw the love in your eyes?"
Carter coyly shakes his head.  He must see my confusion because he gives a deep, hearty laugh. "You are a treasure, Miss Schuyler, just like my Evelyn. A man that loves you will look at you as such, not with greed over what he's getting… but with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked, completely devastated without you."
An overwhelming sense of calm washes over me. 
Find his eyes…
You are a treasure…
He sees how much he has to lose…
I squeeze Carter's hands, pulling him into one last embrace. "Thank you so much," my voice hitches. 
He nods affectionately. "You feel ready?" He helps me adjust my veil.
"Almost." I bite my lip, stifling a mischievous grin. "Mr. Carter, do you mind… walking me down the aisle?"
The most handsome smile sweeps across his face as he buttons the jacket of his tux. With his eyes glittering down at me, he offers me his arm. "It would be my honor."
------
Present
"Is everyone freaking out?" He chuckles, extending his arm for me to take his hand. 
I end the call, tossing my phone across the room.  "I… don't care," I snicker. "Probably." Slipping my fingers into his palm, he pulls me to his side, my body crashing into him.  We both tumble back onto the bed, our grunts turning into boisterous laughter, filling our room.
As our bellies begin to ache and we quiet down, I roll off of him, laying down next to him.  We stare at the ceiling, falling into a comfortable silence… that is until I notice him pointing at the textured surface above us.
"What are you doing?"
He chuckles. "When I was little, I used to dream of traveling the world. I tried using my grandpa's old world atlas to map out the perfect trip, and…" He titters, shaking his head with embarrassment, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."
"No," I roll onto my side, resting my hand on his chest. "I love it–I love this." I kiss his shoulder. "Keep going."
He rests his hand on mine, softly drawing circles with his thumb. "We had old popcorn ceilings," he chuckles, "kinda like this textured stuff, and so… I'd imagine it was my own world map. And at night, I would plan my–" he deepens his voice like the narrator of a movie trailer, "--international escape."
"Ooooo, show me, James Bond."
I start to giggle as he takes my hand in the air with his, his fingers curling around mine to extend my pointer finger. "Well, over here is us right now in Puerto Vallarta… and…" he moves our hands together, "up here is New York." He starts to blush, shrugging his shoulders.
"How about–" I guide our fingers to another spot, "--London?"
He chuckles. "I'll pack my knickers," he jokes in a British accent.
"And then Paris," I move our hands again.
"Oui oui, mon chéri," he jokes in his poor attempt to sound French, making me bust out into more titters. He guides us once more. "How about Venice?" He points to another area on the ceiling, his voice growing softer. "Or Athens? Or Bali? Hong Kong?"
I brush my nose against his stubbled cheek, whispering in his ear. "And then where?"
He turns towards me, the warmth of his chocolate gaze fluttering to my hungry lips as he places my hand back on his chest. "To the moon and stars?" The air around us begins to crackle, the electricity igniting our nerves as I feel my heart begin to race. I bite my lip, feeling a rosy swirl dance across my cheeks. "Anywhere. Somewhere else. With you."
I can feel his heartbeat thrum hard against my fingertips, the excitement feeding my desire for him.
I love him.
His large hand intimately caresses mine… but then he stops, looking down at my fingers. Feeling the abrupt disconnect, I follow his gaze and quickly notice he's fidgeting with something. 
My ring.
------
Earlier that day…
I thought I knew what I wanted for my wedding day, but in this very moment as Pachelbel's Canon in D romantically announces my arrival, I am overcome with so much emotion as I look around the room. This is everything I ever wanted: to be surrounded by love. My breath shutters as I try to blink away my tears. This… this is absolutely perfect. 
Carter pats my hand gripping tightly to his arm as he walks me graciously down the aisle.  "There he is," he whispers to me, "look at him."
Sam. He's as handsome as ever in his gray suit and petal pink tie. His eyes twinkle, roaming my body as I draw closer to the altar. He offers me that charming Dalton smile, and everything seems to fade away.
It's just you and me, baby… Finally… after everything you put me through– I mean--that we've gone through…
I can do this... I can do this... I can–
Without warning, Sam gradually turns towards his groomsmen. One of his old fraternity brother's has made some kind of comment, causing some of them to crack up. During my procession.
Sam seems to be responding to the joke or comment. He subtly leans over, but after a few seconds, some of the men snicker, covering their faces and Sam chuckles into his fist, feigning a coughing fit.
It's fine, I tell myself.
Getting himself under control, Sam looks back to me with a mischievous glint in his eye before winking at me.
It was just a joke– an inside joke perhaps. Probably to help with his own nerves. It--it's fine. Everything is fine.
Just… stay with me, Sam. Please stay. I need to see your–
The twins lean up against their dad as he rests his hands on their shoulders. Together, they all watch me with doting glances… that is until one of the velvet boxes accidentally falls out of Mickey’s pocket.  In a panic, he bends over to grab the small package, carelessly backing into his brother Mason, knocking off his glasses.
Giving me a crooked smile and shrugging his shoulders, Sam takes a knee to help the boys out, causing endearing chuckles from the audience.
Those two rascals…
I begin to admire my little mess of a family-to-be… until the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My pulse, without explanation, begins to race as a bead of sweat courses down the slope of my back.
Something doesn't feel right.
I can't help, but feel… as crazy as it sounds, like there's another pair of eyes on me. Of course, I realize I have over two-hundred guests watching me as I finish my march down the aisle, but this? This isn't the same. This stare… it's different. It's piercing, and intimate. And I feel… seen. Exposed. Preyed.
Looking behind Sam's crouched physique, a pair of deep, chestnut eyes feast on my every move. But rather than being filled with adoration or even his typical lust, there's a hint of sadness in them, as if they're watching a funeral procession rather than a wedding.
And for the first time today, my heart flutters as a fire kindles in my belly.
I make it to the altar, Carter placing my petite hand in my groom's grasp. I can feel the desire in Sam's eyes wandering across my body.  He gives my fingers a squeeze, giving me another adoring wink… but I can't stop looking at him.
Focus, Brynn. Just focus…
Naya gives us a cordial smile before taking the microphone to begin. "Dearly beloved friends and family, we've gathered here today…"
It's no use. I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as the room begins to spin. Is it getting hot in here? Or are there just too many people?
As Naya continues, I look back to those haunting eyes, that look of betrayal, that look of devastation… and Carter's words begin to replay in my mind. 'A man that loves you will look at you… with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked… without you."
Oh my God… I never noticed this before but… he loves me.
"... speak now," Naya bellows, "or... forever hold your–"
"Wait!" Fuck! What did I just do? The entire congregation starts to quietly murmur amongst one another. Sam clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowing as he adjusts his collar. "I–I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I just… I have a question, and I…" I sigh. "I can't do this–I can't get married unless… I need the answer."
A hush falls over the room, concerned looks are glued on me.
I should just shut up, and go along with this. Isn't that what I've been doing for the past several months anyway with the promise of a happily ever after? Does fairy tale magically happen after we say, 'I do?'
No. In my heart, I know this is the right thing to do. For me.
"Robin?" More whispers erupt behind me as Sam turns back to look at his best man, a pained confusion etching on his handsome features.  "Several weeks ago, we pretended to be the wait staff in a restaurant… to, uh… witness a date." Sam raises an eyebrow, looking between Robin and me. "I asked you a question at the beginning of the night. Do you… do you remember my question?"  
Robin coyly pushes his fists into his slacks, nodding his head. He exhales heavily, his nose rosy pink with unshed emotion.
My vision blurs as hot streams pour down my cheeks, but my attention doesn't leave Robin. "You… you answered, 'Sure. Sometimes…'"  A lump forms in my throat, my timbre growing hoarse. "Tell me, Robin… if I asked you that same question right now, what–what would your answer be?" I choke out a sob, wiping my face with the back of my hands.
He just stares at me. Lost. Dumbfounded. Embarrassed.
I know this wasn't exactly the most opportune time to talk about this, but I also knew this would be our last time to talk about it. Damnit, maybe I was wrong. Carter was wrong. My jitters and my awful gut feeling… wrong.
I look at Sam, his jaw ticking in anger. And he has every right to be. I've made a fool of him, of us. 
But I could've sworn I saw something…
"Sorry, everyone," Sam kindly addresses the audience, "we have a case of the wedding day jitters." He fakes a bright smile, the crowd tittering and cooing. At me. Like I'm a joke. Again. Sam takes my hand, but he refuses to even look at me now. 
Will he ever take me seriously? I... I don't want to get married like this.
Sam clears his throat, nodding to Naya to continue. "Let's try this again," she chuckles, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of–"
"I lied," Robin blurts out, inviting the chaos to continue amongst the guests.  He steps forward, pushing himself in front of Sam. "Brynn, you asked me if I ever thought about us–" Gasps and whispers crescendo in the room as Robin takes my hands into his. "And I told you… what I thought you wanted to hear. I mean, for Christ's sake, you swore you were in love with..." The corner of his mouth curls, his eyes bearing it all before me. "I knew better," he mumbles, falling into nervous titters, squeezing tightly to my fingers. "The truth is… Brynn Schuyler... Hell, of course, I think about us. All of the time. I dream of you as my bride. As my wife. As the mother to my children… I've never stopped thinking about us since the moment I first met you–" 
Screams erupt as family members and friends jump to their feet. Naya attempts to holler through her microphone to restore order, but it's too late. Our guests that have come to attend a beautiful, romantic wedding have turned into an ugly, angry mob.
I get lost in the shuffle, unable to recognize anyone around me. My name is being screamed in several directions by several different voices, but it's no use. Terrified, I glance around, looking for a way to safety as everything crumbles around me.
Suddenly, a large hand grabs mine, pulling me through the vocal crowd. As we finally make it to the back of the sanctuary, his lips graze my ear. "Do you trust me?"
A rush of exhilaration floods my veins as my natural smile returns. Are you kidding me? With all my heart.
I nod.
"Don't look back, baby," he chuckles, tucking my arm under his. "Run!"
------
Present
"Do you mind, Miss Schuyler?" He smirks, grabbing my engagement ring on my hand.
I roll my lips, trying to hide my smile as I tilt my head side-to-side. "Not at all, Mr. Flores. Please."
Robin slips the jewelry off of my finger before pressing his lips to my now bare knuckle. It was so simple, yet the gesture so intimate; I was finally free. 
This man…
Pulling me into his arms, he tosses the ring over his shoulder, an abrupt clink hitting the wall. With his handsome crooked smile, he leans towards me. "Don't worry," he chuckles, "I made him buy the insurance."
"Robin!" I squeal before our mouths meet in a tender kiss.
"What?" He pulls back, cupping my cheek. "I had a feeling."
"A feeling?" I snicker, raising an eyebrow. "That it wasn't going to work out?"
"Ehh, more .." He brushes his thumb across my lips, a serious expression growing across his face. "That you were the one. For me."
~🖤~
Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤
~🖤~
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tanthamorewinterfest · 4 months
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Here are the latest additions to the Tanthamore Winterfest collection over on AO3:
So I’ve Heard by Geek_and_Nina Rating: Mature Summary:
jade’s coaching boxing, and graydon is her favorite student. kit is his best friend and we alllll know where that’s going to lead
More chapters added! This is a prequel of Show Don’t Tell, deaf Kit au. LOTS of prompts used!
Just like in the movies by claymoressword Rating: General Summary: Prompts: warming up from the cold + “Just trust me.”
“Wait! What was a mistake?” The girl gripped at the handle of the door and took a deep breath, back still turned to hide the hurt on her face from the employee. “Nothing, I just... I came here looking for someone that’s no longer here, and it was stupid of me to think that they’d be here after all this time.” A long silence stretched between them and Jade watched as the girl’s knuckles on the handle became whiter and whiter. Impulsively, she walked towards the girl and relaxed the grip, her voice as comforting as possible. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll be here tomorrow or the day after, we have the best patrons. Just tell me their name and I’ll make sure to let them know you asked for them, maybe even leave a message?” The girl scoffed, a bitter expression turning her face into stone as she turned to Jade. “Well, you can tell my father he can go fuck himself.”
Samaras (an Architect of Catastrophe story) by spybrarian for Silver85 Rating: Mature Summary:
Prompt: Home and family (found or otherwise)
The deluge shows no sign of stopping. It lasts for days, but then, perhaps it needs to. The earth in the Immemorial City has been thirsty for a long, long time. There’s a lot to wash away. OR Set directly after the end of The Architect of Catastrophe, Kit wrestles with the concept of her future.
The Nightmare Before Christmas by TheLateNightStoryTeller Rating: Teen and up Summary:
Prompts: winter hunting, winter gathering
Demons don't care about the holidays. When Kit and Jade receive an assignment from Lili, their Christmas plans go from eggnog and presents to crossbows and murder.
Part 2 of The Curse of the Wyrm
I Wish You Would by rochke11 for pirateygoodness Rating: Teen and up Summary:
Prompt: home for the holidays
Kit is home for Christmas, feeling the bittersweet nostalgia of her childhood bedroom An OT3 addition to this series
Part 5 of Eras
Baby, It's Cold Outside by lowkeyed1 Rating: General Summary:
Prompt: winter gathering
Graydon is drawn to the piano at Kit's Christmas party, and that draws someone else to him…
The Light That Leads West by TheLateNightStoryTeller Rating: Teen and up Summary:
Prompts: huddling for warmth, under blankets, first snow, fireside, 'shut up and hold me'
Tensions rise as the group journey's across the Shattered Sea but Kit isn't the person she was when she left on this quest and once she's able to cool off, she finds she has a lot to think about.
Afraid of Change, Afraid of Staying the Same by TheLateNightStoryTeller Rating: Teen and up Summary:
Prompts: 'you earned this', beach day (the Shattered Sea totally counts)
On their journey across the Shattered Sea, Jade watches Kit master her swordsmanship with pride. Both of them are changing and with change comes questions that Jade isn't sure she has the answers to yet. A companion to 'The Light That Leads West'
gotta get (bottomed out) by pirateygoodness Rating: Explicit Summary:
Prompts: winter solstice, longest night
Jade had whispered the idea of it first; her words coming so fast that Kit could hardly understand her as she leaned in against Kit's ear during dinner. Do you think people ever - it would be wild if someone - underneath the great tree. Kit had nodded, reminded Jade of the time that Airk had tried and been caught with a minor lord's youngest daughter and nearly pressed into marriage over the indiscretion. Jade had mentioned it again, the next night. Had said, so surely, what if we didn't get caught. Then, the next night: what if you brought your cock. Kit's not entirely proud of the speed with which she had relented. + (Or: Kit and Jade enjoy the Fantasy Strap-On, festively.)
Part 5 of this is the best day I can ever remember (tanthamore smutverse)
We still have most of the month to go so keep 'em coming! A full list of prompts can be found here and the rules and FAQs are over here.
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Random Facts About Marcello
Bayverse!Leonardo x reader
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All Children Romeo Gerardo Valentina
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A/N: I must admit, I have a soft spot for Marcello. I’m not sure what it is, but little Mr Miss Understood does have a special place in my heart💙
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Warnings: Family fights and drama stuff, Marcello being a hot tempered one💙
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When you and Leo decided to name your second born Marcello, you had no idea how well that name was going to fit. Originating from Latin, Marcello means “little warrior”, and boy, is your Marcello a little warrior, with a strong drive and need for independence.
Neither you or Leo were sure when it happened or what caused it, but it became clear very quickly that Marcello was insecure in his own abilities. There emerged a pattern of his seeking validation, trying to master something that was still far out of his range, only for Romeo to master it with ease, showing it off proudly to Leo, without realizing he made his brother feel overlooked.
It might not come as a surprise that Marcello is really bad at communication. He is not good at talking about his feelings, nor explaining them. That combined with a tendency to feel emotions very strongly, often caused Marcello to react outwards.
However, Marcello is a very great artist. Through his many emotional outbursts, he found that he was really good with pen and paper. You in turn encouraged him to delve deeper into his artistic endeavors, hoping that he could find an area of his life he could be proud of. That often led to Marcello drawing you all sorts of drawings, sometimes just staying close to you, in hopes that you would validate his work. And you did every time, giving him some much needed confidence boosts.
At the age of 15, Marcello and Sunny were gifted a weapon each by Master Splinter. Marcello’s weapon was a nagamaki - a sword with an extra long handle. Splinter had chosen this weapon, citing his grandson’s quickness to jump into action, while the nagamaki forced him to stay grounded, never moving or letting go of his sword.
Leo and Marcello’s relationship is… something. They love each other very much. To the moon and back. No words could change that, even if it felt like it at times. They just clash sometimes. In Leo’s eyes, Marcello tends to escalate situations with Romeo, often leading to Leo having to separate them. When this happens, your husband has a bad habit of going into leader-mood, and give Marcello an order instead of being understanding of his emotional needs. Yes, that has caused many arguments between the two, with some not so nice words being said. One time it got so bad that Marcello yelled that he hated Leo and Romeo. That was not a good time for anyone involved...
Marcello has a very close relationship with his uncles, especially Raph. Raph often provided Marcello with a place where he could let out steam, by punching the shit out of a punching bag, followed by a heart to heart conversation, talking about family and siblings. Whatever Raph had said to Marcello worked, and for one of the first times Marcello actually owned up to his words and apologized to Leo and Romeo.
Marcello and Romeo’s fights was worse back when they used to share a room together. After that, there would be a longer time between each outburst. Up until their teenage years, oh lord… But that doesn’t mean that they don’t get along at all, because they do. But if there is something that rubs the other the wrong way, they will let each other know… very loudly…
Marcello and Gerardo however do get along pretty well. They rarely fight, oftentimes even sharing the same opinions. It’s how they express those opinions that makes the difference. Gerardo tends to be calmer, while Marcello can be very direct, feeling like he needs to prove a point.
If Valentina is a princess, then Marcello is a knight. A vigilante, ready to beat whoever decided to try to pursue his little sister. No joke. Romeo and Gerardo even agreed with him on the idea. Had you and Leo not told them to cut it out, they might have scared Valentina’s friends and partner off.
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0-ramen-0 · 10 months
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The Trials of Survival
Summary: A group of hero’s and villains is kidnapped by an alien race and put through dangerous trials for entertainment. Our main character is neither hero or villain and has little patience, how will she survive against the hundreds of hero’s and villains facing the same trials.
Pt 1/?
Now I was no superhero or villain, I was scared shitless. I did happen to know some people from both groups however, so I was running around looking for any sign of people I knew. Sure I got strange looks because I didn’t have on a fighting suit or armor like anyone else did. There was no way they all just had them on hand, whoever gathered us probably had them changed before anyone woke up.
Which brought me to another point, who took us. Why did they do it. My only source of information was eavesdropping on people. Something I’m great at because I’m rather stealthy. However more observant people caught me and shot me nasty glares to back off, which worked.
While everyone was in intimidating suits, many wearing masks, I was in a pair of shorts and a cropped tank top. I stuck out a little.
I was gardening when I was taken. Well, I was fighting off weeds actually, and losing the battle. I had small battle wounds from the fight, small cuts, scabbed over from time.
My train of thought was cut off when someone shoved me.
‘Someone’. Roughouse. An asgardian, sneering down at me.
I glare in return, “Watch where youre walking human.” He snaps.
“You shoved me thick headed troll.” I reply in the same hostile tone.
“What did you just say to me tiny human girl.”
“I said, ‘You shoved me you thick headed troll’.” My words get louder as I continue to speak.
“I wont bother fighting you, I can sense it in you. You have no ability, I can kill you where you stand easily, watch who you’re talking to.”
“I knew rock trolls were stupid and arrogant, but even they know when to back out of a fight they cant win.” I sneer, getting in his face.
He raises his fist, bringing it down to hit my jaw. I’m giddy with adrenaline. Those last two hours of wandering around, I was able to pick out who had superior abilities, and which would be best to beat others.
Speed and shard talons. I move quickly, swatting his punching arm with my hand in less than a second. I stand watching a few feet away, many others watching to see the small spat. Roughouse’s arm falls to the floor, hand still in a fist.
Maybe a fight would warm me up for whatever is to come. Instead he screams. Loud. This gets about everyone attention, and hero’s rush over to stop the ‘fight’.
“Finally, someone starting off the party, I wondered when you all would figure out the test.” A booming voice echoes around the room putting everyone on alert, even Roughouse stops his screaming, turning to pathetic whimpering.
“Who would’ve known first blood would be drawn from her of all people! I owe people some money thats for sure.” The voice laughs, I frown at the clear insult to my ability.
One of the walls disappears, instead a large stadium brimming with aliens are shown, mostly booing, some cheering. The voice’s owner is standing on a floating platform in the center of the arena.
“Now, little girl, Our first trial winner. Number 818 everyone.”
Im no longer in the cave, instead on the platform with the man, lights shining in my eyes. I block them, turning to the announcer. “Why am I here?” My voice carry’s through the arena. The crowd booms in laughter at my apparently ridiculous question.
The announcer smiles at me, his dusty pink skin sparkling in the light.
“Well, you and all your other contestants are here to compete in the trials. And you just completed the first one. Congratulations, you won the first trial. Now you and everyone else can move to the next one. So, did you know that was the only way out? To draw someone’s blood in combat?”
“Why am I here.” I sneer, ignoring his own question.
“Well we gather anyone we deem worthy and place them in the challenges. You made the cut. No easy task might I add. Now will you answer my previous question.” His smile disappears, an aggravated look replaces it.
“I had no idea. He became a problem in my life. I solve the problems in my life with ease.” I glare, turning to look at the crowd.
“If looks could kill.” He chuckles, getting the crowd to laugh as well, “Number 818 everyone, winner of trial 1.”
“How many trials are there?”
“Depends on how entertaining the group is. So far not a bad start.” He beams at the crowd who goes wild.
Just like that im back in the cave, eyes readjusting.
“I think it’s time for trial two.” The announcer states giddily.
“Now you may get into teams of five to complete this task.” Just like that, the crowd is gone, the wall is back again, but another disappears.
I walk over quickly, looking into the new area.
A plain beige room. The floor is tan cracking brick, the walls and roof are covered in the same material with fewer cracks.
I carefully take a slow step in, ready for anything when both feet enter.
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boilingrain · 2 years
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Since my body decided that drawing stuff is not an option today, I'm just going to toss the spaghetti of my ideas for what I was wanting to draw into this post.
Mostly so I can like. Maybe remember them a bit more tomorrow (or whenever I get around to drawing stuff). If anyone gets inspired or something by my ramblings, feel free to use any of these ideas. I might not even get around to drawing all of these myself. The point is that I'm not super attached to these ideas, they're just random thoughts
Also this is like... just about Great Fairies. I don't know why my brain decided that's the only thing we're wanting to draw right now but... eh. I'm not complaining about it I guess
So these are mostly like... ideas for different kinds of Great Fairies? I'm not super good at words so that's the best I can explain it right now. I'm just going to number the ideas & go from there
A Great Fairy based on a Rito and they're covered in all sorts of shiny things & knickknacks & stuff. Their fairy fountain probably has a bunch of random metal & gemstones & stuff all around it. They just like shiny things
Great Fairy based a Zora on who is basically just a big mermaid. They're probably surrounded by a coral reef or something. I like the idea that they live in a big anemone. They probably live deep enough underwater that you'd need an item or something that lets you swim underwater for a longer amount of time to get to their fairy fountain. Bonus points the more fish-like they look
Great Fairy based on a Goron. They're basically just a really big Goron that's covered in gemstones. They're probably surrounded by a bunch of lava. Probably still calls you "Brother"
Some sort of combination of the Great Fairies from Wind Waker (because I absolutely adore their designs) and the Great Fairies from any of the other games. Listen, I just love the WW Great Fairies. They're so unique & cool looking and I hope whoever designed them has pillows that are always the perfect temperature
Great Fairy with an outfit that has a ton of embroidery (or beading or something)!!!! Since the BOTW Great Fairies upgrade your clothes I think it would be neat to see a Great Fairy with clothes that are noticeably "upgraded" :)
Great Fairy based on the Sheikah? They would be pretty unnerving. Since the Sheikah are connected to the goddess Hylia and also stuff like shadows & spirits, I feel like it would be fitting for something based on them to be a little extra weird. If anywhere near BOTW's spot in the timeline, they might be more tech based? Perhaps even an attempt the ancient Sheikah made at an artificial Great Fairy? (Actually that would be cool as hell I'm definitely going to draw that)
Great Fairy who is fairly young (...at least for a Great Fairy. Who knows how long they live other than presumably "Very") and isn't really that good at doing their job yet but they're really just trying their best. Just a little baby of a Great Fairy (perhaps would even be a little travel companion)
Great Fairy but evil (or at the very least antagonistic). Probably more adjacent to fae from actual myths & fairytales & stuff. Might be working for Ganon (or whoever the main villain is... so probably Ganon), might be their own thing. The point is that they're more likely to trick you out of your firstborn child or whatever instead of actually helping you
And that's about all I've got (for now at least)
My plan is that I'll maybe remember that I made this post the next time I'm back to making art. This is like the creative equivalent of tossing spaghetti at a wall to see if it sticks for me
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ahundredtimesover · 3 years
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Inevitable (05) | JJK
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)
Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)
Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected/protected sex but be safe please!)
Chapter Word count: 7.5k
Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.
Series Masterlist || Previous || Next
##
You’re met with silence on the other end of the phone as a response that you start to consider Jungkook having fainted or something. But you hear a long drawn out breath and sniffles instead, and you will yourself not to cry again. 
It’s been an emotional night, one you’ve been waiting for, and you wanted nothing more than to deliver the good news as soon as possible.
“That’s… that’s great, ___. Wow, uhm, he really said that? That he wishes I was his Papa? Like, it came from him? He drew me with you and him?” Jungkook asks, voice shaky. 
“And Mr. Choochoo,” you add.
“And Mr. Choochoo, of course,” he laughs.
“But yes, that’s what he said. He was shy about it, too but god, Jungkook, he looked so soft,” you huff, a smile on your face now as you recall how Jungwon looked earlier. 
“He saw me shocked, though, so he just smiled, said it was okay because he knows whoever his Papa is will find him soon,” you narrate, recalling how that caused you to ready Jungwon for bed immediately so that he doesn’t see you cry, which you did, silently, as you watched him fall asleep. 
“God, he’s so precious,” Jungkook cry-laughs. 
You bask in the sound of his voice, so tender and full of yearning. And you wish so badly you can see him right now, knowing how important this moment is for him. 
“I really wish I could take the train back home tonight,” he says, frustration in his voice. 
“You have a game in the morning, Jungkook. It’s okay. Just use it as inspiration. We’ll be here when you get back and we can tell him,” you affirm. 
The phone call goes on for another hour as you discuss how you’ll both tell Jungwon tomorrow. You go through different scripts, different scenarios, and possible reactions to make sure you’re ready. 
Even with Jungwon’s openness, he’s still just a kid; you can’t truly be certain how he’ll react and if he’ll understand. But you try to focus on the best case scenario and that’s him, taking it all in and accepting Jungkook, loving him the way his father loves him.
You fall asleep with Jungwon curled next to you, enveloped in your arms, in your love, the one you’ve given unconditionally the last five years as you nursed a broken heart and quelled the longing you’ve had for his father. 
You knew what you were doing that night when you walked out of Jungkook’s life. It wasn’t a goodbye, although you had to make it seem like it was; you felt that it was the only way he’d let you go. It wasn’t the same for you, though, because you knew that the moment you’d birth your child, you’d be seeing Jungkook every single day - a reminder of what your love can create, and what it can endure. And what you’ll continue to endure for the sake of your child.
It’s a big step, letting Jungwon know. The priority after would be making up for the lost time, the time that you denied them. You can’t say that you regret the decision you made all those years ago but you also can’t say that you’ll make it every single time; you’ll stand by it always, though. 
All that time, it at least comforted you that Jungkook was living out his dream, the one that mattered to him more than anything else, because his father mattered to him more than anyone else. He shined so bright in Jungkook’s eyes, and even with the short life that he lived, Jungkook’s father lived it passionately, courageously, fiercely, and with no regrets. 
It’s why Jungkook loved him with his whole heart. And it’s what you’ve always wanted your child to feel towards the man who deserves the world. You want Jungwon to always look up to his father with wide eyes and a beaming heart at the passionate, courageous, and loving man that he is, at the man with no regrets. 
If things get hard and you can trace it to the decision you made, you can shoulder that regret, you can live with it. As long as Jungkook doesn’t have to. You love him that much. You know now more than ever that you’ll love him always. 
**
It takes a while for Jungkook to step in your doorway as he takes deep breaths. You look at each other longer this time, as you share your first parent moment together - telling your son the truth. 
“He’s waiting for you,” you say to him. 
Jungkook nods and follows you to your living room where a Bears-jersey clad Jungwon is playing with a piano that his uncle Yoongi - whom he’s never actually met - gave him.
“Hey buddy, you watched my game?” Jungkook asks as he kneels in front of the little one, who timidly nods and proceeds to nibble on his lips.
He’s been quiet the whole day. Your son has this natural ability to feel with others, and you think he saw the melancholic look on your face the night before and probably mistook it for sadness. 
“You think I played well?” 
Jungwon nods again, avoiding the older man’s eyes.
Jungkook motions him to sit on the couch and you join Jungkook on the floor, eyes level with the little one.
“So, Mama told me you colored Mr. Choochoo yesterday at school. I’ve learned to really like Mr. Choochoo,” Jungkook says, picking up the elephant stuffed toy on the table. “Is it okay if I see it?”
Jungwon looks at his hands gripping each other on his lap, then shakes his head no.
You discussed this with Jungkook, how Jungwon would probably feel shy and nervous, maybe even guilty for wishing such a thing.
“Hmm, is it okay if you tell me how you colored Mr. Choochoo? And if you drew anything else? Mama told me it was really pretty.” 
The little one remains silent, eyes still not meeting yours nor Jungkook’s. 
“Hey sweetcheeks,” you try, gently lifting his chin up to look at you. “You might have thought Mama was sad last night, huh? You think I got upset after you showed me the drawing?”
He slightly nods. 
“I wasn’t upset, okay?” You reply softly. “I was actually very happy. I should have told you that I wasn’t sad at all. I should tell you next time what I really feel, I know that now.”
Jungwon finally looks at you and holds your gaze.
“Cookie is asking to see your drawing because I told him what you said,” and you hold his hands, as his eyes widen, to try and calm him down. “But he’s not sad about it, you see? Cookie was really happy too. And he hopes you can tell him what you told me.”
You and Jungkook let him have his time, let him process things in a way a soon-to-be 5 year old can. Even with this, you still want it to be on his terms, even if you may have led him there somehow.
Jungwon turns to his hands on his lap again, as if contemplating his next words.
“I said I wish Cookie was my Papa,” he whispers after some time; it’s so faint you could easily miss it. 
Next to you, Jungkook holds his breath.
“I really wish that too, buddy,” he finally says, lowering his head to meet Jungwon’s face. “But you know what? We don’t have to keep wishing anymore. Because you see…” He clears his throat and swallows hard, prompting Jungwon to look up at him.
“Buddy, I am your Papa, okay? I…” he continues, struggling with his words. “I… You… You don’t have to be scared about it because I’m here, Papa is here. And Papa loves you very much. The way Mama loves you.”
Jungwon looks at you, as if to get your confirmation. You nod at him, affirming him that it’s okay. It’s a very drawn out conversation. It’s torturous but you also know it’s necessary. 
“You’re my Papa?” 
“Yes, buddy, I am,” Jungkook smiles, the same time the tears stream down his face. “I am,” he whispers repeatedly, so softly, as if begging the little one to believe him.
Jungwon reaches out his tiny hand and wipes the tears off Jungkook’s cheek, a gentle smile slowly forming on the little one’s lips as his eyes get wider. Then he leans forward and wraps his little arms around his father’s neck. 
Jungkook is so shocked that it takes him a while to register what’s happening, and he hugs the boy back before it’s too late. Jungwon’s hugged him before but not like this, and this is definitely worth the wait.
“I have a Papa now,” he says, something you pick up, too in the silence that’s enveloping the three of you. At this, Jungkook hugs tightly and shuts his eyes to let more tears fall. 
He tries to steady his breath, careful not to be too hysterical because he wants to bask in this, he wants to savor this - savor his son call him Papa, savor his tiny body cling onto him, savor this feeling of holding the one person he never thought he could love with his whole heart because he didn’t think he’d even be able to create someone as precious as him. 
“Yes, Jungwon. You have me now, and I have you now, okay? And I love you so, so much,” Jungkook says, eyes still shut at the overwhelming feeling of joy and adoration. 
For years he didn’t even know that Jungwon existed. At the first sight of him next to you, Jungkook had this strange feeling of familiarity over someone he’s never met, but those eyes that shone as bright and as wide as his told him something, showed him something that was missing. 
The past months of getting to know his son just proved the connection that binds them together, the love that’s meant to exist not just by nature but by will. Jungkook has loved his son since he knew that Jungwon was his and it only made the desire for the truth stronger. This moment will stay with Jungkook for the rest of his life.
And you’re there to witness it all. 
By now, you’re standing by the couch, letting the two have their moment. You’ve let but one tear fall because you know that Jungwon’s attention will be brought to you once he sees you crying but you want it all on his father. You want them to have their time together, to let that undeniable connection grow and deepen even more.
Jungkook finally pulls away and looks at his son, who has glassy eyes and a shy smile like him. 
Jungwon jumps off the couch and scurries to the room, leaving a surprised Jungkook. But you know what your son is up to. Not long after, he runs out and hands Jungkook the artwork of his family - a very large Mr. Choochoo with him, you, and Jungkook.
“That’s you!” Jungwon declares, joyful disposition now back. 
“We’re matching, huh, buddy? You like it when we look like that?” Jungkook asks, sniffing his cries away.
“Yes! I want to look like you,” Jungwon says softly.
“You already look like me,” the older man giggles.
“I want like this,” the younger one states, pointing to the whole ensemble. 
They go back-and-forth and you laugh at them, heart warming at the thought that this will be a more common sight in your household now, as you know that Jungkook will want more of this to make sure that his son won’t feel neglected by him. 
Any other talk about schedules and what this new development would mean to both of you are conversations for another day, you decide. And you let this be for now.
**
The scent of beef stew wafts through your whole apartment and you pat yourself on the back for being able to make it as appetizing as this. You knew this had to be dinner tonight, whether things went well or not. 
The rice is cooking, the muffins look good in the oven, and the sound of father and son laughing is competing with the thrumming of your heart. 
It’s just been a few hours since you and Jungkook revealed the truth, with Jungwon’s reaction so much better than you expected. It might have caused Jungkook a bit of a heart attack but he’ll take anything as long as the little one accepts him. 
Since then, the pair has gone on to play a bit of music - with the older man on xylophone duty, and have storytelling, with Jungwon insisting that Jungkook will be the one to read him Lion King from now on because you definitely can’t make your voice as low as Mufasa’s. 
You got through two photo albums, too, with Jungkook insisting so he could at least feel like he hasn’t missed much. You were telling stories to the men, answering questions from them both. 
There was that first haircut, the first holiday, the first snow. There was that first stroll down the park, the first swing, the first trip to the beach. There were his first friends, his first day at daycare, then his first day at preschool. 
In most photos, there were your parents, your brother, your best friend - the constants in your life who have become constants in Jungwon’s, as well, who protected and loved him with their whole hearts, too. And Jungwon has loved them just the same. 
You knew there was always something missing, and for some reason, you believe that Jungwon knew that, too. 
He never asked to be spoiled by his uncles, never begged for their attention, never asked for more. Even if they were his usual babysitters on nights when you had to pull in more work hours, there was a connection but never the kind of attachment you’d expect from a little kid who probably wonders why he doesn’t have a father that he sees everyday. He clung to his uncles for love and support for as long as they were around.
But he would ask about Jungkook in his little ways, ever since he knew him as the man who fixed his toy airplane, who twirled him around and tossed him up and hugged him with every fall back to strong arms. 
He was never rowdy around Jungkook the way he’d be with Taehyung - who sometimes was more of the child than your son - or not as attentive the way he’d be with Namjoon, although even you’d be intimidated with your brother’s professor-tone of voice and disposition. 
With Jungkook, Jungwon was himself. Maybe it’s because they’re alike in many ways; maybe it’s because he sees someone who resembles him, laughs like him, enjoys the same things as him. Regardless, it’s like with Jungkook, Jungwon felt understood, seen. 
Each man’s love had been deliberate but because Jungkook had loved his son unconditionally since he knew, somehow you can’t help but think that Jungwon always felt that, too.
You think about all this as you watch both of them make figures out of clay, with Jungkook helping and molding whatever shape Jungwon asks him. They look so good together, so free, so full of love. 
Your lips begin to quiver as the emotions from last night and earlier today start to consume you, given that you’ve been holding them back for fear of upsetting Jungwon and taking away the moment of father and son.
Jungwon tells you everyday that he loves you, he’s a sweet kid like that. But you know that he’s also capable of loving another the same way, and that person is sitting next to him. He looks so happy, so content, so safe, like how he’s always been with you.
And Jungkook radiates with so much joy, too, with so much love and affection. He looks just as happy, as content, as safe. 
As Jungwon lifts up his finished product - a brown figure in white - and exclaims “Papa, I made you,” you lose it. 
You cover your mouth before anything comes out to muffle the sound but your wails spill right through, strangled cries and gasps for air filling the apartment now. 
Your one hand holds onto the end of the counter as the other one covers your mouth, an insufficient effort to not get the attention of either man just a few feet away. It’s uncontrollable now and you feel your face is soaking wet, eyes stinging from how tightly you’re trying to shut them. 
You’re still trying to hold it in until strong arms engulf you, and your face lands on a sturdy chest, the heart underneath it beating almost as fast as yours. 
“It’s okay, ___. Cry it out. It’s okay,” Jungkook says, his arms gripping you tighter, hands sliding up and down on your back. 
Your hand moves from your mouth to his chest, joining the other one, as they grip on his shirt and you cry, probably the hardest you have in a while.
“I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take this all away from you, I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” you sob. 
“I kept him away from you for so long and I denied you all this,” you continue in between cries. “I denied you both this happiness, this love. Jungkook, I’m sorry.”
Your words are muffled as you shout it all on his chest, his shirt undoubtedly soaked by now. 
But he hears you, he hears everything, feels the beat of your heart and the desperation in your voice and the guilt in your words as you grip on his collar for dear life, as if doing so can heal the wounds that have marked you just the same. 
“It’s okay, ___. I forgive you. It’s okay,” he affirms.
He wonders if you had someone to hold you like this during the times you cried, or if you ever allowed yourself to be like this in front of others. 
Jungkook wishes that he could have, that he was there for you; maybe you wouldn’t be crying so hard if he was. You wouldn’t have had to carry all this burden by yourself if that was the case. 
He remains like this, letting his heat give you the warmth you need, with hope that it could be enough to ease all the pain and worry from before, during the times you were alone, or felt alone.
He continues massaging your back, his lips leaving pecks on the top of your head as if you can feel them, but he does it anyway. He does what he used to do to comfort you, hoping it would work because he never had to do this while you were sobbing, because you never really did that with him. He knew what to do when you were stressed or frustrated or flustered, exactly like this. 
He doesn’t know what to do when you cry.
Your breath starts to steady, your tears not waterfalling as they were just earlier, and you slowly pull yourself away. Jungkook lingers though, his hands still on your arms, caressing them. 
You’re startled as you see wide eyes staring up at you, a frown now spreading across Jungwon’s face. This is why you didn’t wanna cry, not right now at least. 
“Mama?” He calls out.
You carry him because it’s been a mother-and-son thing to comfort each other when one is sad, as such emotion is something you’ve learned to easily share with each other. 
“Hey, sweetcheeks,” you say, as you try to wipe off your tears from your face even if new ones fall right after. 
He runs his little hands through your tear-stained face, as if they can do more than your big ones but you giggle at the act anyway. 
“It’s okay, Mama. I love you, Mama.” 
You hug him this time, and you hug him tightly. 
Jungkook weakens at the sight, as if he could cry again at this moment. You sounded so hurt crying on his chest earlier and now you look so vulnerable, so scared, things he’d rarely seen you be. But you look so soft, so tender, as you envelope your son in an embrace. 
He wants to do that with you too, with both of you. He wants to remove the damp hair that’s stuck on your forehead away, tuck it behind your ear and wipe the tears that continue to fall. But he holds himself back, afraid to undo the progress between the both of you. 
Jungwon pulls away and starts to kiss your cheek, the way he always would. You love this part because you’re reminded of just how much of an affectionate and loving little boy he is, and you can’t help but feel comforted and safe. 
“Mama stops crying when I kiss her,” Jungwon turns to Jungkook and reaches out his hand, which the older man takes and he’s pulled closer to you both. 
“Papa, you should kiss her, too so she stops crying,” he says, pulling Jungkook nearer.
You laugh at this to mask the nervousness you’re feeling, thankful that your warm cheeks can hide how flushed you now are because of your son’s proposition. 
Not wanting to disappoint his son - and more, definitely more - Jungkook removes the damp hair from your face, tucks it behind your ear then kisses your forehead. 
It’s not much but he lets it linger. He wants to let you know through this the words he’s not ready to say, to give you the comfort he wishes he got to give before. 
You close your eyes and just this once, you let yourself feel it, feel his lips on your skin again, feel the words he doesn’t say. 
Jungkook looks at you with so much affection, and then he giggles, then you giggle, and Jungwon wraps his arms around your neck and whines that he’s hungry. 
It’s so intimate, so real. And you can’t help but feel something for the first time in a long time. 
You feel complete.
**
“Mama, look! Is it nice?” Jungwon asks, as he turns to you sporting an Ironman helmet. 
This is the third one he’s tried and you just know he has his tiny smile on behind it. His voice is muffled but you make out the words.
“Yes, bug. But it looks big, maybe look for another one?” You respond.
“He’ll grow into it, it’s the only kids’ size they have,” Jungkook counters, as he helps Jungwon remove the thing on his head and the little one scurries to the next shelf. “It’s the one with the most features and sound effects.”
“What does he need more features for? The lights are fine,” you argue.
“For combat, ___. We need features for combat,” Jungkook deadpans.
You roll your eyes because he’s taking this whole shopping thing too seriously. 
After the other week’s momentous occasion, which called for a celebratory lunch with all your friends - including Yoongi and Hoseok who finally got to meet the little one, albeit briefly since they’re new faces - it has been a smooth transition for Jungkook and Jungwon, who all of a sudden have a handshake and secret language of their own. It’s adorable though, the way they whisper and laugh like they’re in their own little world. 
You’re currently in a store that houses the best collection of Ironman merchandise - according to Jungkook, who’s apparently done his research - and Jungwon came in looking like he’d entered some wardrobe to Narnia but his face had been the cutest it’s ever been and you take it. 
You’ve never been here before because of the intimidating size of the place and you always wanted to limit the toys you’d get for Jungwon; he has enough people spoiling him with those, except maybe your brother who’s taken to giving the little one books and plants instead, because, well, it’s Namjoon. You’re thankful for those, though.
“Do you think the material of this beach towel is as water absorbent as it says it is? Or should I just get this other one instead? But the print isn’t as nice,” Jungkook asks, and you scowl at him because “really, an Ironman beach towel?” 
“That’s not necessary, Jungkook, and you said you wouldn’t spoil him.”
“I said I wouldn’t spoil him right away, and it’s been two weeks so I think it’s okay. Plus, look at him. He looks so excited and in awe with everything that’s in here.”
“Which is why I never brought him here but someone was being a baby about it,” you glare at him, recalling how earlier in the day, Jungkook was pouting at you and repeating ‘please’ like a mantra for you to agree with coming here so he could buy Jungwon more Ironman toys. 
“I couldn’t resist that face,” he shares.
“Exactly. That’s why I don’t give him an opening,” you say. “But really though, watch him explore and inspect but he’ll only get 3 items max.”
“But he said he liked the car, and the remote-controlled figure, and the one with the combat pack, and the motion-activated repulsors, and the arc reactor…”
You stand with your arms crossed, a knowing look on your face. “Did he say that or you asked?”
“Well, he agreed…”
And it’s taking so much of you not to pinch the cheeks of this grown man who’s been caught in a little lie. Jungkook looks so adorable, the look on his face is exactly how you remember it to be whenever he’d been in a toy store or a baseball store.
“Of course he would. Because you probably looked so excited,” you laugh. “I told you how he is, he doesn’t like turning people down. Plus, he probably wanted to impress you, too, by liking everything you like.”
Jungkook nods in agreement, knowing how his son is. Even with his shy nature, he’s probably the type to quietly sit next to a kid who doesn’t have friends or share his snacks with someone who doesn’t have much. 
Jungkook smiles at this, a bit of worry that the little one may be taken advantage of but perhaps teaching him to stand up for himself is a better problem to have. 
You both watch Jungwon pick up a few things, inspect them, then return them on the shelf.
“You know he’d be wanting that growing up, right? Getting his old man’s approval, bonding with you like that?” You ask Jungkook as you both walk towards where Jungwon is. 
You don’t have to say anything more and what that would imply because Jungkook knows. He’d thought about this a lot, how as much as he wants Jungwon to like the same things he does, he wouldn’t want to impose, wouldn’t want the kid to grow up thinking he has to constantly get approval from his old man. 
Jungkook knows what that’s like, and much as he loves his own father, he knows that it was deliberate, too, making him fall in love with baseball. 
“Okay, buddy,” Jungkook asks as he kneels down next to Jungwon. “So, you still have some toys at home so why don’t we pick just a few things, alright? Maybe around 4?”
You giggle next to them because Jungkook would always push it.
Jungwon nods and looks at the shopping cart shyly. 
“I like everything in this whole store so go get what you want, okay?” Jungkook claims after you nudge him. 
The little one smiles and runs to another aisle, with you and Jungkook on his tail. Jungwon ends up choosing a plush toy, a simpler pair of repulsor gloves, an electronic watch, and the helmet that Jungkook said had more features, which is the only one that was retained from the initial choices. 
“Yes, okay. I’ll do better next time,” Jungkook laughs, and his heart melts at your cocked eyebrow and triumphant smile.
You all walk towards the counter, a skipping Jungwon in front of you, then you hear a loud gasp that causes even the little one to stop and turn towards his father.
Jungkook stops in front of the clothing section, mouth agape at a shirt that has an arc reactor on the chest, definitely a better option than the toy from earlier. His eyes are wide and you know he’s begging in his head for Jungwon to notice this.
But he doesn’t. The little one looks up and eyes a maroon shirt with a simple Ironman graphic on it instead. It's a kids’ size right next to an adult one, and Jungkook’s face falls a little before he smiles. 
“You like that, sweetcheeks?” You ask him, and Jungwon replies with a nod. 
“Okay, let’s get it then,” you smile.
“Can you and Papa get too?” He asks.
You laugh at this. “He’s really your kid,” you whisper to Jungkook, whose smile is so soft at the thought of his son wanting matching shirts. 
“Of course, buddy,” he says, looking for sizes for all three of you.
You resume your walk to the counter, with Jungkook mumbling that he also liked the “I love you 3000” shirt and was hoping that Jungwon would choose it.
“He won’t get it,” you respond. 
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never watched Endgame!” Jungkook asks in shock.
“I have, he hasn’t.”
“But that’s the best movie ever!” Jungkook exclaims. 
“You’ve seen him cry over Toy Story, Jungkook. How do you think he’ll be when he finds out what happens to his superhero? He’s not ready for that. I’m not ready for that! For all I know, you cried so how do you think he’s gonna react?”
“___, I cried in all Ironman movies, okay? Also, I sobbed in Endgame. Like, at the end and then pretty much the entire movie when I watched it again right after. By myself.”
You snort at this and shake your head at him, but you’re also not surprised. Jungkook’s the softest dork you know who’s definitely not afraid of showing emotions like that. It’s why you two worked so well together, and why you think co-parenting Jungwon wouldn’t be that hard, too. 
In fact, you know it’s going to be a lot of fun, if the past weeks are anything to go by, especially today. Jungkook has such a bright energy, a contrast to how he is on the field. 
Out there, he’s serious, intimidating, and pretty cocky, but that last bit you secretly love for how much of a turn on it is, not just because he has the skills to back it up but because he has this look where he knows he’s good and he’ll make sure the other person will know it, too. You’re not quite sure how Jungwon will take after his father in that way, but you also don’t mind. 
Part of the parenting discussion that you and Jungkook have been having include making sure that Jungwon finds his own self, identifies his own passions, and carves his own path. As parents, you’ll give him as many opportunities and experiences as possible, making sure that he feels loved and appreciated whatever he decides to be. 
You allow yourself this short moment to imagine what it would be like to do more than just co-parent, as Jungwon pulls your hand for him to hold as his other one holds Jungkook’s hand, too, as you walk out the store. 
He sways both his arms and there’s this new kind of glow to his face, a new kind of joy, something that’s more apparent when the three of you are together. You want to see this look on Jungwon everyday if possible, but that might be too much to ask. 
The little one tugs your arm and points to the cotton candy stand and you motion for him to tell his father, as you know that it will still take getting used to for Jungwon to ask Jungkook for things.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Papa likes those, too.”
Jungwon takes your word for it and tugs Jungkook’s hand this time and points to the stand, causing the older man’s face to light up. 
You’re carrying the little one as he watches in awe at the way the puffy cloud is shaped into an adorable-looking pig. After a few minutes of admiring it, Jungkook takes a piece and feeds Jungwon, whose eyes close in delight at the taste. His arms are hanging from your neck as he leans closer to Jungkook who alternates feeding himself and his son.
“Not too much, bug,” you say softly. 
He nods and tells you to taste it and you shake your head because sweets aren't really your thing, but you eventually give in to Jungwon's sad face. 
“Papa, feed Mama, too!”
Jungkook notices your scandalized face, although it is just cotton candy, but he’s amused, and a little giddy, too. He knows this isn’t something worthy of rejecting your little boy over so he smiles at you before he feeds you with a small piece of the cloud-like treat.
You make a face and Jungwon laughs at you and you gush at how this whole thing is making him happy. He deserves all this and more.
That night, you and Jungkook tuck him in bed as the little one’s eyes’ droop at the sound of his father’s soft humming of a lullaby, a contented smile gracing his face. 
Jungkook kisses the little one’s forehead and caresses his cheek. “I love you so much, buddy,” he says, and just like Jungwon earlier today, there’s a glow, a new kind of joy on Jungkook’s face. It fits him well, and he looks even more beautiful like this. 
He lingers next to Jungwon and the way he looks just makes you happy, hopeful. You’re collecting moments. You think for now, this is all you can do.
**
It’s been a bad day.
No, scratch that. It’s been a terrible day.
You’d just spent the whole morning arguing with building owners and your head is about to explode. What’s worse is you couldn’t even show exactly how angry you were because Jungwon is with you, and he can’t see his Mama fight people. You also can’t express just how frustrated you are because again, Jungwon is with you and he can’t hear his Mama curse and scream at the world.
Perhaps things have been too good lately. The past couple of weeks have been filled with more outdoor dates, movies and activities at your apartment, baseball games, bonding with the rest of the guys with Jungwon taking a liking to them, especially Hoseok who risks breaking his bones just to hear the little one laugh, and video calls when Jungkook has away games. 
You’re less stressed at work because you can actually focus, since there’s a Jungkook to pick Jungwon up from daycare or look after him when you need to pull an all-nighter.
Perhaps this is the universe’s way of balancing things out because this isn’t the situation you were really hoping for.
Jin opens the door to his loft, the venue of today’s gathering because you’re doing taste tests for his new restaurant. It’s something you’re happy about because at least, you have your friends’ voices of reason for times like this. 
Jungkook notices your agitated face and approaches you. You immediately give Jungwon to him, who smoothly moves from your arms to his father’s, and you stay by the window to try to get yourself together.
Your friends know to leave you be when you’re in distress and Jungkook keeps an eye on you. It’s when you grip your necklace - the moon and stars one that he gave you when you were together - and take deep breaths that he leaves Jungwon with his uncles, and walks over to you. Those had always been your tell.
Calming you down used to be his expertise. He’s not sure about now but you’ve been on such good terms that he thinks it’s worth a try.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He asks, voice laced with worry.
“I…” You start, checking on Jungwon first before you say anything.
“He’s okay, Hoseok and Jimin are playing with him,” Jungkook says.
You move towards where the rest of the guys are and release a long breath.
“So, apparently the apartment we’re supposed to move into in two weeks has mold and the idiot of a building owner insists that it’s okay like that shit’s fine and like I don’t have a kid.” You huff.
“And he won’t give us the corner unit because it’s reserved for when he needs a place for his mistress and he offered the one in the 7th floor! I have a child! And there’s no elevator there!” You exclaim
“And your current apartment?” Yoongi finally asks after a while, everyone else just watching you unload. 
“My lease ends this month and that other idiot of a building owner won’t let me extend it until I find a new place because he says someone’s moving in. I’m friends with his daughter. She said no one’s moving in. He’s just lying because he hates me,” you pant.
“Why does he hate you?” Jungkook asks, tone bitter.
“He’s a grumpy man who, in the very rare times that Jungwon threw tantrums, decided he dislikes little kids.”
“His own probably hates him, since his daughter is ratting him out,” Yoongi says.
“Well, I may have also paid my rent late but like, just thrice in the past year and he just doesn’t have any form of compassion for this hardworking mother who has the sweetest child in the world,” you pout, and Jungkook giggles to himself because you’d never been this dramatic, although the situation does call for a bit of that.
“I’m sure you’ll find another place,” Yoongi offers, like it’s that simple.
“That apartment was in the best location. I was lucky to have even found one there that I could afford, so it’ll take time,” you explain, shoulders sagging now, as if in defeat. “It’s close to the kindergarten that Jungwon is enrolled in for next month and the primary school we plan to enroll him in next year.”
We. Jungkook smiles at this. You’ve been saying that a lot lately. 
“And it’s in a nice district, too, and it’s safe and it has parks nearby. Ugh, stupid assholes had to ruin it for us. And it’s Jungwon’s birthday soon and I was really hoping to be settled by then,” you continue, eyebrows scrunched in frustration.
It’s silent for a while with everyone just staring at you, as if the answer is literally in front of you. 
“So in short, you’ll be homeless in 2 weeks and you need a place to stay,” Yoongi clarifies.
“Yes… well that’s oversimplified but—“
“You do know that you have a whole ass baby daddy here who’s very capable and hoping to—“ Jin grunts, interrupted by a painful elbow to his gut, with Jungkook glaring at him. 
He faces you and smiles, a complete 180 from how he was just with Jin.
“What he actually means is that my apartment is near Jungwon’s school. I have spare bedrooms you can use. It has amenities and parks nearby, and it’s safe,” he says calmly.
Jungkook’s actually nervous about how you’ll take the suggestion. When Jin mentioned having you and Jungwon move in, Jungkook hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since. He’s glad for the opening, as he wouldn’t know how to bring it up without scaring you away.
“You’re asking me, I mean us, to move in with you? I mean, for now?” You ask nervously. 
“Sure, why not? I mean, if it’s okay with you. It’s practical, you won’t have to worry about anything, and… it’d be nice to come home to, you know…” He clears his throat. “It’d be nice to get to see Jungwon everyday.”
You don’t miss your friends’ looks of agreement; even Namjoon has a soft smile on. 
You still, suddenly nervous at the thought of living with Jungkook, even if you convince yourself that should you agree, it’s just temporary because you still intend to find a place on your own. Your co-parenting discussions with him were always based on the premise of living separately so you don’t think you should stray from that initial plan. 
The guys notice your nervousness and decide to move to the other side of the room to give you and Jungkook some privacy.
You take this time to think about it. While you fear for your heart that would probably flutter and sigh at the thought of seeing your ex-boyfriend everyday, you also know you don’t have that many options.
“I’m not agreeing right now but are you sure you’re okay with that?” You ask Jungkook as he stands in front of you, your eyes anxious to meet his. 
You know it’s a silly question but you need to hear it again, you need to know that it’s something he wants, too. It seems like a practical step but it’s still a big one. More than that, though, you know it would be good for father and son to spend everyday together, and you don’t want to get in between that.
Jungkook senses this and this version of you is someone he knows how to deal with.
“Yes, I am sure. I would very much like for you and Jungwon to stay with me. I think it’ll be easier for all of us. While you, uh, look for—“
“Another place to stay, yes,” you finish. You look at him nervously. 
There’s more you want to say, like things are getting hard and you need more than just to help with Jungwon, you need him. You want to say, too, that the past weeks have been great but it’s also been difficult trying to control your feelings for him, ones you’re sure that never really went away. You want to tell him that you miss his hugs, his kisses, his warmth; you miss his love. 
“Yeah, of course,” he responds, looking away briefly. 
He hears your bated breaths, though, feels your anxiety from where he stands, and he wants nothing more than to ease your worries.
He turns his gaze on you and engulfs your hands in his, his warm touch sending shivers through you. It’s so familiar and something you’ve been yearning for. You return his look and will your heart to still. 
“You’re not alone in worrying about this, okay?” He says, grounding you. “There are options and we’ll figure this out together, and I don’t wanna pressure you but this is kind of a time-sensitive thing,” he smiles. 
“So I’ll be forward and tell you now that I prefer that you and Jungwon stay with me. For how long, I don’t care, we’ll figure that out, too. I just…” He continues. “I'd rather have you there with me. I want you both there with me. It’s much safer and practical.”
There’s no point in delaying it. Whatever the consequences of this arrangement would be, you and Jungkook will figure that out, too. At least you’ll do it together. So you nod your agreement. 
He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, something you both now do when you say your goodbyes, due in part to the not-so-subtle prodding of your son. You know it’s also because Jungkook can tell that you’re stressed over this and just like before, he’s trying to tell you that it’s going to be okay, that you’re not alone in this anymore. 
You bask in Jungkook’s warmth, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist, not minding the snickers and knowing looks of your friends. 
It’s not long before you hear tiny footsteps approaching you and a tug on your shirt. You and Jungkook pull away from the hug and find a wide-eyed Jungwon looking up at you, a soft smile gracing his face. 
“I want a hug, too!” He states, arms raised.
Jungkook laughs and carries the little one in his left arm, with his right one pulling you closer, then settling it lightly on your waist. 
“You jealous, buddy?” Jungkook chuckles, earning a playful glare from you.
“I like it when Mama and Papa hug me,” Jungwon explains. 
“I know, sweetcheeks,” you say, taking a deep breath, knowing there’s no taking this back after. You take the risk, as you look at how Jungkook is looking tenderly at you and it’s giving you hope.
“Will you like it if Mama and Papa hug you everyday?” You ask. “Would you like it, too, if you see Papa everyday?”
The little one nods vigorously, and you and Jungkook laugh at this. 
“Okay, then you will.” You kiss his cheek and look at Jungkook, as if in agreement. “Let’s see Papa everyday, okay bug?”
Jungwon squeals and proceeds to kiss you and Jungkook on the cheeks, another moment that you know you’ll be getting a lot more of moving forward. 
“We’re doing this, huh?” Jungkook asks, as he puts the little one down who’s insisting that his uncles are waiting for him. 
“We are. Together, right?” You respond.
“Together.”
##
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raibebe · 4 years
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Of needles and seduction
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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.
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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.)
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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.
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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.
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sugar-petals · 3 years
Text
sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet
🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸
— WORDS. 5k
tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare
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  A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme. 
Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.
Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible. 
Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.
Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink. 
Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss. 
The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.
His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.
Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well. 
That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like. 
Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.
Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect. 
Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again 
Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength. 
If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.  
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it. 
Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him. 
Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him. 
He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock. 
Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ). 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.  
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.
Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.
Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.
The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.
You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.
Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.
Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan. 
And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.
Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.
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NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!
© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. depictions fictional.
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mcyt-imagines · 3 years
Note
I loved your "dating tommy includes" hcs! Could you do a dating ranboo includes hcs please? 💓💓
This request was super fun I got a little carried away with it though! Hope you enjoy regardless :)
Ranboo Dating HCs
This boy is an absolute cuddle bug! (Once you guys have dated for a little while first, of course, he needs a little bit of time to feel comfortable enough) But once he’s decided he’s comfy enough around you, you won’t be able to pry this lanky boy off of you. However, every once in a while, he’ll distance himself a little, as if he’s worrying he’s being too clingy. But with some convincing and reassurance from you, he’ll be back to begging for cuddles in no time.
He adores both being the big spoon and the little spoon. The idea of you feeling safe in his arms when he’s the big spoon always makes him feel strong and confident. But feeling so content and relaxed in your arms when he’s the little spoon is something he loves just as much.
This boy isn’t great at remembering dates. So whenever your anniversaries come around, if you don’t remind him, he will forget. So his usual methodically planned out dates are cast aside when he’s on a time crunch, he instead finds himself on BuzzFeed's Top 10 Romantic Destinations In Every City’ or some other dodgy/trashy teen website. They’re still fun because you’ll be with Ranboo, and the spontaneity of them is a welcome breath of fresh air for you, Ranboo not as much, but you do your best to reassure him and curb any of his fears.
Ranboo is the kind of boyfriend who has you at the forefront of his mind, most of the time. This leads to him bringing home countless little trinkets or articles of clothing that reminded him of you. It’s never for any special occasion, he just thought you would like it and so he wanted to give it to you. He will also gift you any sketches he draws that he actually ends up liking, that’s usually only like a fifth of them but he will always cherish your compliments and critique. Mainly because he actually cares about what you think, and knows you’d be honest with him if his drawings were as bad as he sometimes thinks they are.
If you and Ranboo ever fight while you’re together, which seeing as how non-confrontational he is, I can’t see it happening very often if at all. But if you do, he is likely to apologise first, and very shortly after the initial argument. It’s not that he’s a pushover and can’t stand up or himself, he just doesn’t see the point in arguing about something stupid or unimportant, so he’ll encourage you to hash it out with him quickly and with little fanfare. However, if the argument is over something important like morals, he will use his apology to try and reach a middle ground with you. By letting some time pass since the initial argument, he knows both of your minds are clearer and less clouded by emotion, allowing for the two of you to come to a peaceful agreement or disagreement.
Ranboo likes to have you in his stream room whenever he is streaming. If you’re busy with something else he won’t stop you and drag you into his stream room, but you do notice his demeanour change when you’re there or not during streams. He is always quite upbeat but the cute way he looks back at you every few minutes always guarantees a blush to rise to your cheeks. His happy grin contagious even as he looks away and back to chat. You usually will make Ranboo something to eat whilst he’s streaming, especially for lore streams as they’re usually longer. He has accidentally announced it to chat several times having meant to mute himself before speaking, he always gasps too. “You made me lunch! Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. How about I make dinner tonight for you, huh?” His chat will race by as you press a kiss to his cheek, and he takes the plate from you. “Guys my partner made me luuuuuuunch. I bet you guys are all super jealous.” He smirks, the chat hears your soft laughter in the background as you return to the comfy spot you had been occupying before you left to grab Ranboo some food, munching on something you’d grabbed for yourself.
Ranboo always insists that you do chores together, even if it isn’t the same chore. You can see him vacuuming from across the house as you’re emptying the trash. And of course, loud music is playing during this, chores must be done whilst jamming out. Ranboo is a strong believer in that philosophy.
Ranboo also tries to get hands-on in the kitchen whenever he can. He cooks most of the meals simply because he can be a bit of a picky eater, and thus you both decided it would be easier if Ranboo cooked more often. But there are days where you must cook and you try your best to make the meal as inoffensive as possible for Ranboo, he knows it’s a pain and always thanks you profusely for it. He’ll usually hover whilst you’re in the kitchen asking if he can help dice the carrots, mash the potatoes or stir the bubbling pot of pasta and you usually end up having to dance around the gentle giant as he fumbles his gangly self around your very small kitchen. This has led to some small accidents in which both of your outfits have gotten completely ruined, but you’ve never held it against him no matter how much he blames himself for it. The first time an accident like that happened Ranboo baked cupcakes for you the next morning as an apology and almost burnt down the place because he was so lost in his sulky and broody thoughts, he didn’t hear the oven timer go off.
Ranboo isn’t the kind of boyfriend to get jealous or possessive. This isn’t because he doesn’t care, it’s simply because he trusts you. He has no reason to worry, even though he does, but he refuses to let that interfere with you having some fun with your friends. However, if some person is making unsolicited advances towards you, and you’re looking and obviously feeling very uncomfortable he will not hesitate to step in. This boy may not be confrontational, but he knows when he needs to step up to defend someone, he knows you can defend yourself, but if he can stand in between you and that person he is more than willing to.
At parties together Ranboo sticks to you like glue, he’s not a huge fan of the combination of loud music, flashing lights and crowded people. You know this, and so you keep to the outskirts determined to keep your boyfriend feeling content and make sure he enjoys himself a little too. You don’t go to parties often with Ranboo simply because he doesn’t adore them, but if it’s an important event for you or himself he will begrudgingly go. However, he never dares to complain only pleading with his eyes to leave after a few hours. And usually, by that point, you’ve shown yourself around to the host and whoever you needed to see, so you usually just slip out the entrance with little fanfare. Eager to get home and into your pyjamas for a late-night movie, some cuddles and then passing out on the couch.
Ranboo talks in his sleep. Mostly gibberish, but sometimes he will string a couple of sentences together. They’re usually questions directed at you or part of conversations you’ve already had with Ranboo the previous day. They rarely wake you up, his voice being quite soft, barely mumbling. However, every once in a while, you will humour him, and yourself in the process. Continuing a full conversation with him whilst he sleeps, and sometimes you directly impact his dreams. One night you mentioned cinnamon to him as he slept and the next morning, he said he had been craving Cinnabon’s in his dream, and now that he was awake, he wanted one 100x more. Thus, the two of you made some that afternoon to cull his craving. You made a mental note to keep your effect on his dreams a little secret to yourself.
Ranboo can have difficulty conveying his emotions to you the way he wants to, struggling to find the right words. But when he does, he screams them from the rooftop. Once he confesses to loving you, you hear it often. Whether it’s just a ‘goodbye love you’ on the phone or a heartfelt ‘I love you’ as he holds your face in his hands as you lie awake late at night in each other’s arms. This also is the case with compliments. This boy showers you with compliments, if you’re insecure about a certain part of your body you best bet, he will be putting plenty of focus into making you love that part of yourself just as much as he does. Which is a lot. In turn, it leads to him simply talking about you a lot, you’re on his mind almost 24/7 and he makes sure everyone in his life knows it. Seeing as his family and friends adore you, they don’t mind it too much. This boy adores you with his whole heart and he wants to make sure every single person he ever runs into, knows it. No matter how long you’ve been together, that will never change.
~Requests are always open!~
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sierraraeck · 3 years
Text
The Better Kisser
BAU x Bi!Fem!Reader
Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader
Masterlist
Summary: After finding out that you haven’t had very many kissing experiences, the team realizes you’re the perfect candidate to judge who the best kisser on the team is.
Category: Fluff
Warnings: As you may have guessed, lots of kissing.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head that I just needed to write. This is technically an AU where the members of the team are Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Luke, and Tara. Everyone is single.
It was true. You hadn’t kissed very many people. You decided long ago that it wasn’t really in the cards for you, dating and kissing and relationships, that is, so yeah. You weren’t what one would call an ‘experienced kisser.’ Your friends had teased you for it, but you’d always shrugged it off. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
You’d never thought it’d be something to be grateful for either, until tonight.
It’d been a long, hard case, and everyone was dying to get out of the stupid office, and away from those stupid files, so that you could all finally relax, maybe even have some fun. You’d only been with the team for about three months, and it was like an entire whirlwind throwing you this way and that. You also hadn’t gotten to know the team too well either, considering how busy you all constantly were. Your first week on the job, they went out for drinks after a case, but you were so exhausted that you left after the first round.
There hadn’t been time, or energy, since then for the team to spend quality, relaxed time together. That’s why tonight was extra exciting.
“You’re telling me that throughout all of highschool, all of college, you haven’t kissed more than two people?” Derek asked incredulously. You couldn’t fully remember how you’d all gotten onto the subject, except that you had. You were sitting on Garcia’s squishy couch, littered with colorful pillows and all sorts of stuffed animals. Garcia had decided that instead of going out to a bar, you were all going to go over to her place, minus Hotch and Rossi who tapped out early.
You shrugged. “Nope. I had one boyfriend and one drunk kiss, both of which were bad experiences for me. I’ve kind of avoided all of that since then.” You explained, “Plus, when would I have time for that? Between my college studies and getting into the FBI, then BAU, I didn’t really have free time.”
“I mean, sure, I guess,” Derek continued, “but come one. There had to be guys falling at your feet!”
You laughed. “Not all of us have that kind of draw, Derek.” He nudged you, and you nudged him back with a wink.
He was right, though. You were stunning. Even when you just put your hair up and wore sweatpants, there was just something about you. You would probably look good in a trash bag. But men were not just falling at your feet. Even if they were, you wouldn’t notice, putting all of your energy into chasing your dreams instead. You thought that was a very reasonable, and responsible, thing of you to do.
Plus, you’d done the whole boyfriend thing, and weren’t really interested in trying it again. Well, not as interested as you were in trying the whole girlfriend thing. And your first day on the job, a certain badass brunette caught your eye, and was even the first one to make you really feel like part of the team. You were finding it harder and harder to resist her pull.
“Yeah Derek,” JJ chimed in, drawing your attention back to the conversation, “Not all of us can rack up eight phone numbers and five make out sessions in one night.”
“What can I say?” Derek beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “I’m a great kisser.” Emily snorted. When Derek glared at her, she pressed her lips together and looked down. “What?”
“Nothing,” Emily sang, shaking her head with an air of mischief.
“No seriously, what?”
“It’s just that if you read girls half as well as you claim to, you might wonder if that’s always the case.” Derek’s jaw hung open, and Emily smirked at him with unabashed confidence. You stared at her and her piercing eyes, and you couldn’t help but admire how sexy she was when she was confident, smug even.
“Wow, you’re gonna go there?” Derek asked, feigning hurt disbelief, “And how would you know that?”
Again, Emily shrugged and nonchalantly stated, “Because I know how women act when they kiss me. And trust me. They’re actually enjoying themselves.”
Some ‘ooh’s radiated throughout the room, and based on the look Penelope had plastered to her face, things were about to get good.
You watched in amusement as Derek sat up a little straighter, “Is that a challenge?”
“If you want it to be.” Emily’s brows shot up.
“Alright, you’re on,” Derek nodded, determination radiating off of him.
“Well, I don’t know how strong either of your games are,” Luke spoke up, glancing quickly over at Spencer who was just observing the whole encounter, “but I think I could take on both of you.”
“No you could not,” Tara sneered from beside him.
“And you could?” Luke challenged.
Setting her glass down, Tara replied, “Yes.”
You giggled at the thought of the four of them having a kiss-off, just imagining how utterly chaotic that would be due to all of their extraordinarily competitive natures.
“Oh my god, this is going to be so fun!” Penelope squealed. “Now we just have to figure out who’s going to judge!”
“We can’t really use one of us because some people might be biased or recognize the kisser,” Emily casually stated. It took a moment for you to realize what she’d just admitted to. Who on the team has kissed before? But before you could really start thinking about it, you noticed that everyone’s gaze had slowly turned to you.
“What is happening right now?” you questioned, looked between them.
The five of them exchanged excited, knowing looks before training their attention back on you. Then you got it. “Are you serious?”
“You’re the only one who hasn’t kissed one of us!” Derek explained, as if it were obvious.
“You mean…” you trailed off, but again couldn’t complete the thought before someone interrupted.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Penelope promised. “And you seem like you’d be a very neutral judge.”
“Not to mention,” Tara added, “You’re a pretty blank slate since you haven’t really kissed anyone.”
“Don’t worry though, we’ll show you a good time,” Derek assured with a wink.
Heads nodded. You were a bit worried that there would be some hurt feelings by the end of this, but they were all adults, and the appeal to kiss all of them, along with their eager faces, became enough to convince you to say yes.
“Yes!” Derek exclaimed. He looked pointedly at Emily, “It is so on.”
She just rolled her eyes. “Pen, do you have a blindfold?”
“A what?” you asked.
“Well we can’t have you getting biased on us. This has to be strictly about kissing.” Hearing her explain it with such reason hampered your growing nerves a bit. Like you’d said, you hadn’t kissed very many people and you were worried how much better they were going to be at it than you.
You reminded yourself that this was more about them than you, and tried to use that to calm yourself down. You were about to be kissed by some of the most attractive people you’d met. This was definitely not a bad place to be.
While Penelope rummaged through her belongings to get a makeshift blindfold, Luke convinced Spencer to join and JJ decided to participate.
Pretty soon, they had you seated in a chair, another one across from you, waiting for whoever was going to go first, while Emily explained some ground rules. “We are going to go in rounds. We will each kiss her and then after every round, Y/N will eliminate one of us based on the number in the round we kissed her so she doesn’t know who it is. No touching. You can’t use your hands in any way, this has to purely be about the kiss. And kiss however you normally would, no matter what that means for you.”
“No hands?” Spencer questioned. You were still surprised that he’d agreed to join, let alone ask a question like that. Luke gave him an odd look from behind while Emily confirmed the rule.
“Your hands might give away who you are, and again, this is just about the kiss.”
“Alright, alright, let’s just get started,” Derek complained, as Penelope tied the blindfold behind your head.
Now that you couldn’t see, you relied on your hearing to figure out what was happening. You heard some shuffling and disgruntled whispering, then you heard the chair across from you slide across the floor toward you. You waited anxiously as the person leaned in and pressed their lips to yours.
Their lips were plush and soft, but the kiss seemed a little too forced. It was a bit excited and you could feel their smile as they started pulling away. It was a pretty good kiss, definitely better than your previous two, despite the fact that it only lasted a few seconds. You couldn’t help but try and guess who it was, thinking it was either Penelope or Tara.
The next person who sat down completely blew the person before them out of the water. It was a much longer kiss and the person even swiped their tongue across your bottom lip for entry. You weren’t really thinking as you gave them access, the heat in your body starting to rise. You just hoped that your face wasn’t giving any of that heat away, so you were almost grateful that the person pulled away.
There was a bout of silence, which made you feel a little awkward, but soon enough, you heard the cushion squish down across from you. Their knee knocked yours, as you assumed they crossed their legs. Being a profiler, you were very used to picking up on body language with your eyes, making it kind of fun to try and pick up those same behavioral cues with all of your other senses. This person, you could tell, was very hesitant. You couldn’t say you were surprised when the person really only pecked you on the lips.
Number four in the line up started out pretty good, but you felt them start shaking or something halfway through. You quickly realized that they were laughing and you pulled back. You couldn’t help but smile when you asked, “Why are you laughing?”
Up until then, they had laughed pretty silently, but once you called them out, they just full out chuckled. “I’m sorry!” Tara unapologetically said through more laughs. “I couldn’t help it. I blame Luke.”
You laughed with her as you playfully shook your head. “You were doing so well up until then!”
“I know!” she agreed.
“I guess this means you’re out?” you half questioned.
Tara gave an over dramatic sigh, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she stated, “I guess so.” As she walked away, Luke gave a small ‘ow,’ and you assumed she’d hit him. You wondered what about this was Luke’s fault? Had he said something to her?
Either way, someone took her spot across from you. They wasted no time leaning in and putting their lips on yours. The kiss started out slow and gentle, like they were easing you into it. But gradually, as you both became more used to the other, it picked up pace, your mouths starting to move in sync. It felt like all of their energy was focused on you and exploring your mouth with their tongue. It was by far the most passionate kiss you’d experienced, and you tried to hide the pout from your face as they pulled back, chasing their lips for only a second before remembering there was an audience, and a competition.
Person number six was … good. You couldn’t really describe it. They used, what now seemed to you to be, a medium amount of tongue, for a medium amount of time. It was a good kiss, you weren’t saying it wasn’t, it just didn’t have any quirk or something unique that stood out. It was just … good. You knew Tara was out, so you tried to guess who that person could be. You thought maybe JJ, or possibly Luke, but you couldn’t be sure.
The final person who kissed you was intense. They had plump, captivating lips, but the way they kissed verged on overwhelming. They were also a little sloppy in their movements, and it was like you could tell they weren’t fully invested. Distracted, maybe? Again, not bad, but nothing like some of the other kissers.
The air was hot and heavy as Emily spoke up. “Okay, we’ve all gone. You know Tara is out, she was number four, so who else from this round would you eliminate?”
You pretended to think about it, even though it actually wasn’t that hard to pick. “I think it was person number three.” The person who just sort of pecked me, you thought, but didn’t say.
The players were now down to five, and they went in the same order as they had before, minus person number three, who you guessed was Spencer, and Tara.
This round made you even more confused about who was who than the round before. The excited one you guessed was either Luke or Penelope, the intimate one you thought was Derek, the passionate one you thought was either Luke or Emily, the average one you thought was JJ, and the sloppy, intense one you had no idea about.
By the end of that round, you eliminated person number one, the overly excited, verging on too hard kisser.
The next round was a no brainer. The intimate kisser, Derek you thought, upped his game. He kissed you for longer, used a bit more tongue, but was still somehow gentle. If you thought he’d upped his game, you weren’t prepared for person number two. They also upped their game, keeping your mouths molded together for longer than before, something you were more than happy about. You couldn’t quite place exactly what it was about their kiss, maybe that it seemed so perfectly balanced, incorporated the perfect amount of everything, or something else, but they were absolutely magnetic. It sent electric waves through your body, making you feel a little tingly. You felt sort of bad for the average kisser, most likely JJ, because they had to follow that up. And finally the sloppy kisser, who you still couldn’t place. They didn’t up their game at all. If anything, they felt more distracted by the minute, and pulled away earlier than the rest.
“Person number four,” you stated when Tara asked who was getting eliminated.
It was now down to three; the intimate kisser, you predicted Derek, the passionate kisser, either Luke or Emily, and the average kisser, probably JJ.
There was some shuffling, a faint whispering, a small ‘ow,’ and then Tara spoke up again. “Now that there are only three left, as long as you are okay with it, they want to use their hands.”
You tried to downplay the excitement you were feeling with this new rule, but you were sure their trained ears could hear it in the way you said, “Yes, that’s good with me.”
The seat across from you suddenly became occupied, but before anything could happen, Tara quickly jumped in. “Wait. Y/N, you can’t use your hands.” When you pouted a little, she explained, “Well if you did, you’d definitely know who is who, so…”
You sighed, but agreed, waiting in anticipation for the person across from you to touch you.
It started soft, their long fingers brushing over your cheeks as they leaned in. Soon enough, though, the entirety of their hands were firmly cupping your face and pulling you ridiculously close, close enough to feel some of their body heat. It was intimate, and again made you feel like the most important person to whoever those lips and hands belonged to. You rubbed your thumb into your palm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them, but you knew you couldn’t. Your sole focus was on them, them on you, and you had to say it was one of the best kisses of the night.
That person made you feel like the most important person in the world, but the next person kissed you like you were the only person in the world. They started out by tucking your hair behind your ear, then slowly sliding their fingers back into the loose strands. As they started to kiss you, they moved their other hand behind your head, cradling the back of your neck. The person before them had captured your focus, but this person erased any thoughts your mind was capable of forming. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way their tongue moved against yours, and the shiver they sent down your spine as one of their hands traveled the length of it, coming to rest just above your hip, strong, confident fingers pulling you closer. It was a moment you never wanted to end, and one that left you in a cold shock when it eventually did.
You almost didn’t even want the last person to kiss you because of how you knew it would never come close to what you’d just experienced, but a competition was a competition. The third person kissed you similarly to how they’d done before, good but nothing special, their hands resting comfortably on your hips.
When it was all over, you asked, “Can I take off the blindfold now? I know who the winner is.”
“Sure, but announce who first,” Tara suggested.
“Okay,” you agreed. “The third person got third, the first person got second, and the second person was the winner. Can I take the blindfold off now?” you asked again. You were eager to find out who was who. When you didn’t get an immediate response warning you not to, you stood up and quickly ripped it off to quite the amusing sight. Spencer looked as bright as a cherry, Penelope looked shocked but proud, Tara was smirking, Luke’s eyes were the size of beach balls, JJ looked indifferent, Emily was smirking, and Derek looked like he’d just been shot. “So are you going to tell me who was who?”
Without answering, Emily took two large strides toward you and placed her lips back on yours. One of her hands slid back into your hair while the other rested above your waist, and you smiled into the kiss. Of course it was you, you thought. When she pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots, and she gave you a single eyebrow raise as you both turned to look at Derek.
“I got third?” he asked, still in a state of bewilderment.
“What?” you asked, just as shocked as he was. “I thought you got second.”
Emily snorted. “You thought Spencer was Derek?”
What?! You spun to face Spencer, the person you were sure got out the first round, and he was still blushing like he’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You took second?” He nodded nervously. You beamed at him, causing him to return a shy smile, then look down at his fiddling hands. “You’re a really good kisser,” you complimented.
Derek repeated, “I took third? Emily, I guess I kinda get,” she rolled her eyes at that, “but Pretty Boy?”
You shrugged, and Luke jumped in, though not nearly as harsh as Derek had been. “Yeah, I took fourth, but Spencer got second?”
You offered him a cheeky smile, remembering how distracted he felt while kissing you, and the not-so-subtle glances he constantly made at Spencer all the time. You took the opportunity to encourage whatever was going on there. “He did. Like I said, he’s a good kisser. Very intimate, like I was the only one on his mind. You should try kissing him sometime. Might help you feel less distracted.” You winked and Spencer looked like he wanted to evaporate. Luke, on the other hand, was just staring at Spencer, and you could see the gears spinning in his head. He finally mumbled a ‘what the hell’ before pulling Spencer to him by the back of his neck. Spencer seemed immediately surprised, but recovered quite quickly, no hesitation to his movements after the initial shock. They kissed each other probably exactly how they’d just kissed you, Spencer’s hands cupping Luke’s face, Luke’s hands resting on the back of Spencer’s neck and lower back. Although, you’d have to say that Luke looked a bit more focused than he’d been with you. You laughed while some of the other members hooted. This was something that’d been a long time coming.
When they pulled away, Luke nodded. “Y/N, I definitely agree with you.”
Spencer smiled, and playfully nudged Luke as he said, “Y/N, I also agree with you.”
“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, but he was smiling the brightest he had in a while.
Derek was still a mess, not enjoying the moment as much as he usually would’ve, and asked, “What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured, “You’re a good kisser, but there’s just nothing too special about it. It’s kinda just…”
Emily and Derek looked at you expectantly before Emily got it. “Wait. Are you calling him average?”
She looked way too excited for the occasion, but she was right. He was just kinda average. You nonchalantly admitted, “I guess.”
Derek let his hands fall to his sides with a slap, his mouth still hanging open. Emily’s lips curled up into a sly smile as she placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as good as me.” He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and she held out her hand. Derek reached into his back pocket producing his wallet, and grudgingly slapped a crumpled $20 into her open palm. You gawked at them, not realizing that they’d placed a bet on their skills.
Emily returned to your side, closer than she’d really ever stood to you before, and gave you a smile that seemed on the shyer side for her, biting her lip as she peered at you through her lashes. You mirrored her shy smile, pressing your lips together as heat quickly spread to your cheeks. You turned back to the rest of the conversation that demanded your attention, people wanting to know why you eliminated them. But you couldn’t help glancing over at Emily every now and then, and couldn’t hide your joy when you saw that she was gazing back.
Who knows? Maybe that night was going to be the start of two great relationships in the BAU.
@90spumkin
716 notes · View notes
alaskasmonsters · 3 years
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Gentle Hands | Shigaraki Tomura
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with a quirk like shigaraki’s, physical touch had never been something another person had trusted him with. the fear of what he could do proved to be too great to get close enough. everyone was scared to touch him...everyone but you.
part two 
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pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader
w.c: 3. 223
warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, shigs is touch-starved :c
a.n: this took me way too long to turn out like this...i seriously don’t know what happened along the way but this was meant to go an entirely different direction...idek.
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Shigaraki’s room was enveloped in darkness. The only source of light coming from where you had carefully cracked the door open after several unanswered knocks. It barely illuminated the small space inside, only revealing the silhouettes and rough placement of the furniture.
You’d never been inside of Shigaraki’s room before. There had never been a reason.
As the league’s personal medical support (or nurse, something Dabi liked to refer you to) you’d mostly only talked to any of them if there was an emergency that required your help. Then they’d meet you in the “living room” (you hesitated using homey words like that in connection to the hovel the members of the league had resided in the last few months).
Not that you didn’t get along with them, but you couldn’t really say you were particularly close with any of them. Criminals liked to keep their distance. Distance meant safety, it was the first rule in the handbook basically. Shigaraki was no different. He was the most mysterious of them you’d say, even more distanced with you it seemed. Saying there was no reason to grow attached to a NPC, like you were a dog that would be returned to their rightful owner soon anyway.
It didn’t bother you much. You knew the man needed his personal space, he had his reasons to be suspicious of new people, to be hesitant to let anyone too close...they all had.
That’s the price they paid in a life like that, or maybe they had already been like this before they ever became villains.
Entering Shigaraki’s room now and without permission was probably the closest you’ve ever come to being disintegrated, you thought as you carefully peeked inside. The guilt from intruding already crawled up your stomach. You wouldn’t normally do this, but you were worried after Kurogiri had told you about an “incident” this morning.
It had left Shigaraki badly injured and hiding himself in the darkness of his own four walls, since they had returned. Kurogiri hadn’t told you any details, but you could tell whatever happened had been bad, judging by his concerned tone when he’d requested you to look after the man. He asked you to heal him even if he were to refuse and you had agreed immediately, although you doubted you’d get close enough to Shigaraki if he didn’t want it.
The darkness was thick before your eyes, you could hardly tell the difference between the bed and the rest of the room. Not even the tv’s light was burning...you had expected Shigaraki to play a game if he really were as frustrated as Kurogiri had made it sound like.
The only reason you spotted a glimpse of where the man was located was due to the way the light reflected off the white strands of his hair. He was on the ground behind his bed.
“Shigaraki?” you called his name softly, not sure if he’d already noticed you or if maybe he’d fallen asleep.
You got no answer.
“Kurogiri sent me. Can I come in?”
You waited a minute, probably longer, but when there was still no answer you let out a heavy sigh.
“I’ll take that as a “I don’t mind either way”.”
You squeezed through the small space between the frame and the door, not daring to expose the man to more of the light he seemed to be so sensitive to. At least you guessed that that was the reason he was sitting in the darkness. Maybe he was just feeling emo, Shigaraki seemed the type.
You closed the door behind you, plunging the room into darkness again. This turned out to be a bad idea, since now you were both without sight and you had to slowly and carefully approach where you remembered the bed to be. You could only speak of luck you hadn’t bumped into anything before you made contact with the bedframe, using it to navigate closer to where you suspected Shigaraki to cower at, sliding down to sit on the ground as well.
You sat in silence for a while, making sure he didn’t want you to leave after all, but Shigaraki stayed quiet, the only sign he was still next to you was the sound of his ragged breathing.
You debated what would be the best approach. Should you scoot closer? Maybe you should start with telling him Kurogiri had sent you? Or maybe you could let the two of you stay in silence for a little while?
Approaching Shigaraki when he was in a vulnerable state was similar to a wild animal that had been injured. You had to be careful about it.
“You hurt your hands,” the words slipped your mouth.
Not careful enough.
Had you seriously gone with the worst approach you could have possibly chosen? Good job, Y/n!
Shigaraki didn’t curse you out so you guessed it was fine after all. Maybe his hands were off worse than you had initially thought...
“I want to fix them, if that’s alright but i’d need a little bit of light to do so,” you explained, keeping your voice quiet and calm.
There wasn’t an answer for several minutes. You started to grow restless, thinking that maybe you had overstepped a line, maybe it was better if you left again…
Before you could though you heard a grumbling agreement, barely audible, much closer than you had expected. A second later a dim light illuminated the small room.
You had to close your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness before you could finally look at Shigaraki, who was sitting a few feet away from you, his back leaned against the matratze of his bed.
He looked miserable, his face was lowered so he couldn’t meet your eyes and his features were hidden by the messy white locks.
But what shocked you most was his hands. He had spread his fingers, palms up, on his lap so you saw the actual damage that the attacker had done.
His palms were blood-smeared, cut open, some cuts running so deep you thought you could see parts of the bone peaking out from between the damaged skin.
You felt bile rise up your throat at the view.
It looked painful, cruel. As if someone had tried to ruin his hands in the most painful way possible.
You inched closer, eyes trained on the damage.
Shigaraki tensed up as you scooted closer and you stopped immediately, looking up into his face, making sure you didn’t overstep again.
He was still avoidant of your eyes, shrunken in on himself with his shoulders hunched. He looked like a scared child to you...
“May I?” you asked him, desperately hoping he’d say yes.
His eyes only flickered between you and his hands once before he gave a soft nod.
You carefully reached out to grab the backside of his hands, meaning to pull them closer for you to inspect. The way Shugaraki froze at your touch made you pause and you realized with dread that you had forgotten to ask if it was okay to touch him. He must be in pain, of course he was.
You quickly removed your hands again, giving him a concerned look.
“I’m sorry Shigaraki-kun, did i hurt you?”
He frowned at your question, eyes quickly jumping between your expression and your hands just inches beneath his, waiting to reach out again if he’d allowed it.
He seemed conflicted for a second, but then he shook his head.
You chose not to question it, only giving a soft nod in response before reaching out again. This time you gently wrapped your fingers around his wrists instead, drawing his hands closer so you could inspect them better.
The light was still too dim to see the most gruesome parts of the injury, but even without it you could easily get an idea of what had occured.
The wounds were too deep, the blood that came out of the slashes in a dark flow...this wasn’t caused by a normal knife. Rather by another person’s quirk, one related to mutilation because how else would you describe the cruelty of the wounds inflicted.
It probably made it impossible to heal by itself, too.
Whoever did this had wanted to make Shigaraki’s quirk absolutely useless, damaging his hands beyond repair in the most cruel way.
And while you did know he’d caused a lot of pain with those hands, the idea someone had tried to mutilate them made you sick to your stomach.
You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you leaned down to hover just above Shigaraki’s hands.
Thankfully the league of villains had you and your quirk, seeing as you could heal almost everything, as long as the wound was still fresh and cells weren’t too damaged to manipulate.
Dabi had been the one to introduce you since he’d found you years before when you first started helping him with his unfit quirk. You weren’t a villain, only by association, but you’d always had a soft spot for difficult cases. You hadn’t been able to heal his scars then, since the cells were already dead and the injuries were old and your quirk wouldn’t let you revive anything. But you’d suggested to take care of all the newer wounds
Now you were working with the league of villains or maybe helped out was a better way to phrase it, considering the only method of payment you’d receive was fast food.
You focused your attention on Shigaraki’s injuries, leaning even closer to be able to see everything up close. It was necessary to use your quirk appropriately.
“Ready?” you asked, eyes searching for Shigaraki.
They were wide and attentive. He looked nervous if you had to guess, although he would have denied it if you had asked.
He gave you a nod and you smiled at him, giving his wrists a reassuring squeeze. You decided to ignore the way his eyebrows knit together at the gesture. You imagined he didn’t like touch very much.
You shift your attention to his left palm first, removing your hand from where they had gripped the man’s wrist to let it hover over the injured skin. The tell-tale sign of buzzing spread through your skin as you focused all your senses on the damage you’d been inspecting.
The sight of the cuts running oh so deep, the smell of iron stinging your nose, the feeling of broken and ruined skin and bones and muscles.
A green light, slowly growing brighter and bigger, more intense in color too formed and enveloped your hand. Your fingers inching closer and closer to the bloodied and ripped skin. Just right before your hand would touch his you stopped, the light now extending until it was enveloping his hand as well.
Shigaraki’s fingers twitched, his wrist tensed under your touch. You pressed down on the juncture to reassure him you’d hurry up.
You watched his skin pulling bac, his hands shaking a little when you concentrated on repairing the muscles that have been torn apart before.
It was a slow process, you knew that. You were known for officiency not speed, after all. And you were aware it hurt, probably just as terrible as when the blade had ripped through his skin in the first place. Regenerating injuries like this would usually take weeks and months, a dozen operations and it still would never go back to the way it once was. Doing it your way, basically forcing the cells to regenerate, speeding up the natural process and enhancing it...it took energy from both you and him.
His breathing was ragged, his arm was shaking in your grip, more intense than before and you hated it, hated knowing he was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to make the process go smoother for him, make it hurt any less.
All you could think of was running your thumb over the inside of his wrists, trying to reassure him like that. Trying to signal him that it would be over soon.
You didn’t know if it helped but you certainly felt his body freeze up for a moment. Maybe that was just because of the procedure though.
You watched the skin grow over again, slowly, and leave behind a slightly bloodied but smooth skinned palm. Shigaraki sank back into his seat, letting out a small huff as the pain stopped.
You took the time to inspect his palm, letting your fingers glide over the smooth skin and noting how it all seemed to be back to how they were originally with joy.
“Does your left hand feel okay? Flex your fingers a little.”
When he stayed still you looked up, Shigaraki’s gaze already focused on your face. There was something unreadable in the way he looked at you. He almost looked confused.
You bit your lip, glancing between his hands and his face as dread slowly rose in your stomach.
“You can flex your fingers...right?” you asked nervously.
What if you made a mistake? What if you messed up with his muscles?
Shigaraki’s finger twitched, before he bent them. Spreading them apart before creating a fist. You quickly pulled your hand away to leave him the room to move around a little, returning to tap his skin once more when you saw he was done.
“You feel that?” you asked, less nervous now that you knew that he could still move it.
The only answer you got was a grunt but that’s all you needed.
You moved on to his right hand then. Clasping his wrist with one hand to stabilize him and raising your other just above his palm. You repeated the procedure once more, green light enveloping both your hands as your face was set into a deep frown of concentration.
You stroked his wrist with your thumb once more as soon as you felt Shigaraki tense up again.
He was trembling even harder this time and you couldn’t tell if it was only because he was already exhausted or because this hand had been through more damage.
All you could feel was that the level of damage must be similar, the time it took you to fix the connections of the muscles felt about the same. Then his skin grew over slowly.
You repeated your check up, smoothing your fingers over the skin of his palm and telling him to flex his fingers. He reacted quicker this time, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.
You gave his wrist a last squeeze before you let go, satisfied and happy you’d done a good job. Of course you wouldn’t know for sure until a few days later when Shigaraki was able to tell you if his hands were giving him any problems. But for now Shigaraki looked a lot better.
His pale face had filled with a little bit of color again, although his eyes were weirdly unfocused as he lowered his head to inspect his hands. You watched him in confusion, as he flexed his fingers again. Wasn’t he sure if you’ve done a good job? Did he feel pain?
“Is everything alright? Wait, lemme see again.”
You leaned forward, softly gripping his hands to pull them closer to inspect once more. Shigaraki froze up at the contact again and you frowned when you saw that the skin was all smooth and fixed, giving no reason for the man to act so tensed up.
You searched his eyes, only finding him already staring at you with an undefinable look in his eyes. You were just about to open your mouth to ask him about it. Not necessarily why he was acting so weirdly, but more specifically what haunted him.
Before you could do that, he surprised you with pulling his hands back before opening his palms which were facing upwards.
You watched in confusion.
He stretched his fingers, raising his hand upwards. The motion made you cock your head to the side. He was looking at you with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting something from you. Thinking you knew what he tried to ask of you you placed your hand on top of his, noticing him spreading his thumb apart to not touch you with all five of his fingers.
Shigaraki searched your face for a reaction but you didn’t know what kind of reaction that was supposed to be.
“I knew you were kinda crazy but that’s another level.”
“Excuse me?” you gaped at him.
“Only a crazy person wouldn’t be afraid to touch me.”
Gears started turning in your head and your cheeks heated up at the realization that that had been the reason why he’d frozen up. He wasn’t used to touch. He had been probably overwhelmed having your hands all over him.
“Oh...I guess I trust you wouldn’t disintegrate my hands.”
He raised an eyebrow at you.
“I’m useful aren’t i? Maybe I'd be more worried about a foot or knee cap but I kinda need my hands for the healing.”
He hummed in agreement, seemingly satisfied knowing you weren’t a total moron.
Although to be quite honest you weren’t so sure if you’d flinch from his touch even if it was directed towards your face. You didn’t know if you had it in you to mistrust him. When it had come to this point you didn’t know, somewhere along the way you had just stopped questioning your growing positive feelings towards the leader of the league of villains (and the other members as well).
Sometimes you liked to think both of you had mutual respect for each other. Enough to not randomly disintegrate the other person, that was.
“I’m sorry i made you uncomfortable, though. I should have asked beforehand.”
He snorted, fingers flexing under your grip, bending to run them over the palms of your hand.
“I don’t mind,” he muttered.
You didn’t think it was all he had wanted to say, but whatever else tried to leave his mouth was held back by Shigaraki biting his lip. You didn’t question it.
The man continued exploring your skin and you  spread your fingers a little wider to give him more access. It was fascinating to you, how curiously he was exploring your skin, like a small child eager to experience new sensations. He had cocked his head to the side, eyeing you from beneath his hair, calculating, waiting.
He reached for your hand and you let him. Let him grip and turn it, until he could easily intertwine his fingers with yours, hesitant and careful to touch you, mindful to spread his pinky to not touch your skin.
You felt your cheeks heat up at the gesture, curiously glancing up at the man that was so hesistant with physical touch usually.
“Shigaraki-kun?”
He shook his head, eyes focused on your hands
“Tomura.”
You smiled, surprised but satisfied for some reason.
“Tomura,” you whispered, closing your grip around his hands.
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Taglist: @crystal-lilac​
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519 notes · View notes
myhockeyworld87 · 3 years
Text
Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk
Word Count: 3,644
POV: Reader
Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW
Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.
Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!
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Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.
 That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.
 “It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”
 It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”
 “It’s so annoying, right?”
 “Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”
 Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”
 “Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.
 You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.
 Had a great time tonight.
 It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.
 You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.
 You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.
 It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.
 Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.
 Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.
 You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.
 Maybe we could do it again sometime?
 Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.
 I’d like that.
 Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.
 Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.
 That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.
 You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.
 That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.
 Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.
 “Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.
 It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”
 “Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.
 Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.
 The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.
 There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.
 At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”
 “Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”
 “I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
 You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”
 “I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.
 “Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.
 “Do I even want to know what he said?”
 “Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”
 “We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”
 He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”
 You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.
 Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”
 “Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.
 As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.
 Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.
 “Yes, baby. Only you.”
 “Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.
 “You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.
 “That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.
 “MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”
 That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”
 “Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”
 “It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.
 It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.
 Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”
 “I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.
 The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”
 “Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.
 Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”
 “I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”
 He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”
 “Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”
 “Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”
 You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.  
.
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hogwartsfirebolt · 3 years
Text
cw: wizarding war, and the violence it ensues.
The year bled.
It bled great gouts of wizards, beacons of hope shining bright red at the tip of their wands. Led them to their deaths, in the battlefront that had taken their friends and family, yet remained unsatisfied.
The year took his Hagrid, took his Ron, the year flung a sword into Harry’s survival instincts and turned them inside out — backwards, all wrong. He lived and breathed for his days on the front, inhabited the outermost trench for longer than anyone was allowed, his wand glowing green more often than red.
Voldemort’s tooth — sharp, a snake’s poisonous incisive — hung on a thread, rested against Harry’s throat, had for the better part of the season. Yet the war raged on.
There’d been a time when things had been simpler.
“Will you be resting this fortnight?” Hermione had asked him when she’d served, a few days earlier. She was at a safe-house, now, replenishing her core, drawing energy from the underground streams that pulsed with golden magic so she would be ready to return to the fight. It was was everyone did, every couple of weeks, what their warlord had ordered.
Harry’d not been to a safe-house in three months. He’d not known anything but carnage in all those days, was beginning to suspect that the inexhaustible nature of his core didn’t extend to his body, definitely didn’t extend to his mind.
“Where are they getting this strength? These numbers?” Ron had asked, the night before a Death Eater had torn his head right off his neck.
They still did not know the answer. It happened everyday, at the strike of dawn: dozens of Death Eaters arrived at the front, and it didn’t matter that Harry sliced right through their ranks like a sword, there were dozens more the next morning. And they still did not know the answer.
It was not simple. Nothing was simple.
“They must have found a way to clone their soldiers. It can be done — they have Voldemort’s knowledge on soul-splitting.” Kingsley had written, in the letter Harry had received two days earlier. “Soon enough they will press at their advantage. I trust you will know what to do. Do not fail me.”
There was no “soon enough”. The advantage was already being pressed, every waking second, on multiple fronts. Harry spent his days blocking them with his magic, with his body, and his nights fighting against their secret weapon, they one they seemed to reserve for him only — the mind games.
“They impersonate us?” Arthur had asked, when he’d brought health potions the previous week.
“They show up as you, or Molly, Gin, R-Ron. I’m not sure what they want, they seem to be trying to extract information, but not on our lines, not on our manpower. I don’t know what I have that they want.”
“Don’t trust anyone.”
The days cut him, and the nights suffocated him. He got approached by group after group of imposters, wearing a different face every night. People Harry loved and hadn't seen in months. Those ones didn't hurt as much. Not like it hurt when it was people he had loved and lost.
Arthur had told him not to trust anyone. Some nights, he didn’t even trust himself.
He was going mad, sending away whoever it was that wore Cedric’s body, that showed up in his mother’s face, that slipped into Sirius’ limbs like they would into a coat. People he trusted, people he loved, and whose memory would forever be tainted by this, in his mind.
The night Draco Malfoy showed up, Harry thought it was another mind trick. Then, he realized that it broke the pattern. He’d never trusted, never loved, never even tolerated Draco Malfoy.
But there he was. He showed up, nose bleeding, broken arm cradled against his chest, miserable, everything Harry raged against. His tears shone bright silver over his cheekbones, down his jaw, carrying magical energy, draining him.
“Please,” he said. “Please, I don’t know where else to go.”
Harry didn’t trust him, he shouldn’t help him. But he did. He mended the fractured bones, cut his own palm with a knife and gave him some of his magical energy, poured it right into his gaping mouth. Saved his life.
Malfoy stayed.
Something like guilt, if he was still capable of that, draped itself across Harry’s shoulders as he fed him their food, let him drink from their goblets, gave him their healing potions.
He didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust himself.
Malfoy talked, at least, which was useful.
“Portraits.” He coughed, shivery from the core-loss. “They all have hundreds of them, their magical energy split. Not their souls, that’s not sustainable, it’s their magical energy. And they take them out, give them life. There’s an energy source, and an ancient spell, a rune ... I wasn’t told, but I saw, she performed it in front of me. Please, I’ll tell you. I ran. I need your help.”
Harry didn’t need to ask who she was.
“I can fight. I can help. Please. Please, they killed my mother.”
And there were the tears again, but crystal clear, no longer carrying Malfoy’s power. Harry had successfully stopped the drainage.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Please. Write to your general, I’ll say anything, I hate her.”
There had been a time in which Malfoy’s desperation would have made him feel at an advantage, would have made him laugh, prod at the wound. But that time was long gone, desperation was the only thing he knew now, as well, and there was no winning. It was a winless fight. Malfoy was too human, too scared, not an instrument of war.
“No. We don’t know he’s telling the truth, I forbid you from sheltering him.” Kingsley’s letter said.
There’d been a time when things had been simpler.
But the war raged, the weeks blended into each other, and the pain, renewed as it was every single day, numbed him.
Harry was human. Harry was scared. Harry was an instrument of war.
He sheltered him anyway.
“One wrong move, and you’re out. You have one chance.”
Malfoy nodded, weeping right there in the trench, in his blood-stained clothes. Harry couldn’t afford to distrust him, was too busy staying alive.
And Malfoy did not fail him. In the morning light, dozens of Death Eaters Harry had killed a million times marched into the battlefield, and Malfoy fought next to him. Harry’d not had anyone watch his back in months, and it made for a nice change.
At night, they fended off the imposters, and Harry fed him his own magical energy, watched him grow stronger with it. His core was inexhaustible, he knew. He didn’t have to send Malfoy away to regain strength, he gave it to him, every single night.
It was forbidden, but it was also the only thing that seemed right in the vortex of destruction he’d been living in.
“She keeps an artifact at the Manor. It looks like a prophecy, is kept under lock and key inside her chambers. I saw it, she made me clean it once. I think it’s the source of all this. I think if you destroy it, this will be over.” Malfoy said, three weeks after they’d been fighting side by side. He looked stronger, energized, and if Harry closed his eyes, he could feel his own magic inside Draco’s corestream, like an extension of himself.
“How?”
He felt Draco prodding back, felt him extending his energy so it circled back to Harry, so it flowed freely between them.
“There’s no time to look. Burn down the manor.”
The discovery that they could access each other’s magic should have been monumental, yet felt like nothing at all. They’d known, they’d experienced it every night for weeks. An intimacy unlike any other, between enemies, between allies.
“I thought I forbid you from taking him in.” Kingsley’s letter said, when Harry proposed the idea. It didn’t feel like a reprimand. It felt like a father, telling a child off for keeping a stray kitten. “I have sent reinforcements to the front, come to headquarters. Both of you. We’re burning the house this week.”
The plan was to march off to Malfoy Manor the morning after they arrived at headquarters. Instead, they slept for three days straight.
They were in different rooms, but Harry only had to close his eyes to trace his energy back to Draco, and it soothed him.
They’d been enemies. They were human, they were scared. Now, they were allies. Now, they were one, more than they were two.
“I think we can read each other’s minds.” Malfoy said when they woke up, except he wasn’t anywhere in the room. The voice had come from Harry’s head.
“So it seems.”
They found each other in the kitchen, had breakfast, made vague conversation, not a single word spoken out loud.
“Is the war ending?”
“Once they stop multiplying like crazy, we can beat them, and stop fighting. Live our lives, maybe. But I don’t think the war will ever end, Draco.”
He wanted to explain that he felt like he would carry it forever, but he didn’t have to. In the space between thinking it and wanting to communicate it, he already had.
“I know.”
For the first time in months, when Harry searched inside himself, he didn’t feel empty. There was energy, magic, there was someone else with him, in the space that had existed between his anger and his grief.
“Also, I can do wandless now," Draco added.
“Yeah, that’s on me.”
“Do you think this means we are …?”
“Yeah.”
They showered.
After, they apparated to Malfoy Manor, didn’t even have to touch to do it together, the crack of the spell going off in unison, turning heads once they arrived. The entire Order was there, and, in front of them, the house aflame.
The Manor bled. It bled tendrils of black magic that dissipated into thin air, screamed, called to the tooth hanging at Harry’s neck. He wrapped his fingers around it and held it tight — his trophy, his burden.
All that was left of the enemy army were twenty wizards that scuttled out of the blazing house like fleeing rats. She wasn’t amongst them. Somehow, Harry knew she’d died trying to protect her energy source. He knew that he would have, and soldiers weren't so different.
He and Draco took care of the survivors, both their powers pulled into a single explosion of green.
“Wow.” Hermione said, standing next to Harry.
“We think it’s over.”
“You two are …”
“Yeah.”
“Permanently.”
“Yeah.”
“You know that’s forbidden.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
The year had bled, had been an open wound. Then it had been cleaned and stitched, messily, but closed. It ached. It bore the name of the friend Harry had loved the most, his other half. It would never go away, it would scar.
But it was healing.
Harry reached out with his magic, and felt Draco meet him halfway.
-
Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt "forbidden"
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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years
Text
Shy // Headcannons
words // around 900
warnings // none
author's note // this is a little short but I genuinely couldn't come up a lot. im sorry im just having some bad mental health days. also im sorry to the 2 people on the tag list lol for forgetting to tag them on the last fic, lol. if anyone wants to be tagged let me know, if you just want to chat about maneskin and little scenarios I'm thinking of maybe having a "sleepover" once a week where instead of posting longer fics I can simply reply to asks with mini scenarios? let me know if you like that idea cause i would loooove it
request // yes, here
summary // the band with a shy (or socially anxious) s/o
Damiano David
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we all know this man is all over the place
in a good way of course
he is confident, outspoken and just out there in general
although a paradox he would be perfect with a shy person
he draws the attention to him when you need him to take it away from you
but he gives you all his attention when you need it
he would be really comforting to a shy s/o
“Do you want to get out of here? Is it too crowded? it is too crowded, omg. come on, lets go”
is always there to make interactions with people easier
“so, this is my partner, y/n. They are great.”
will introduce you to someone really proudly and would not leave even for a second unless he saw you had gotten comfortable around that person
will literally hold off going to the restroom if he sees you’re still shy around whoever you two speak to.
“Damiano, just go! It’s fine”
this is funny, don’t judge me
has no problem doing all the talking for you
“You want me to order for you? no problem. Yes, hi, could we please get-”
in general, damiano is literally there to do the s o c i a l i z i n g for you when you need him to
Victoria De Angelis
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vic is also the type of person that would quickly cover up for your shyness
will not even ask if you want her to order for you, she already knows
“Have you decided what you want, babe? oh, great.”
casually waits for the waiter before ordering for both of you
i feel victoria is a little more “pushy” and let me explain this
she will not force you to socialize but she will push you to familiarize yourself with crowded places
will always be with you of course
“Come on baby, I know it is crowded, but I am here, ok?”
has a plan on how you guys will go about if she has to introduce you to someone
it’s not that she will not do the socializing for you if she has to but she will be there to encourage you to step out of your comfort zone regarding it.
not too much, and never alone, but just enough to make you more comfortable around new faces
like she will make phone calls for you, the ordering for you and all but under other circumstances she pushes you to work on the shyness a bit
Thomas Raggi
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I feel like thomas is equally as shy so the game is played between the mood you guys have that day
when the one is having a “shy-er” day (lol) the other will do the phone calls and what not
“thomas, call over the waiter, we need to pay so we can leave”
“why don’t you? they are in your peripheral view”
“cause i did it last time thom! now call over the waiter!”
“y/n!”
“Is everything ok? Anything else I can get you two?”
“Y-yes. the check please”
embarrassing
generally tho you two tend to kind of ‘give strength’ to each other when you have to do something like that.
like holding hands and giving each other encouraging words before having to interact with someone
lol my friends and I do exactly that!
although I see Thomas being a little sneaky sometimes and just avoiding to do something until you are fed up and you have to
oooops
Ethan Torchio
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now, although ethan is my personal favorite I would hate this so much (as a shy person myself)
he isn’t very shy exactly, just introverted
he also just has this vibe to him
daddy™ lol
that is just like yeah he can surely do the socializing for you but he is just not going to
Is he going to be an ass about it? no
Is he going to leave you alone to do it? no
but he will not make a phone call for you or order for you
unless he sees that it is stressing you out too much
“no, y/n, you can do it. I believe in you.”
he is going to be encouraging about it, not forceful and disrespectful
if he sees that you feel very pressured that day he’ll shut up and do it for you
like i can see him being next to you while you have to make a call, the phone on speaker and holding your hand for moral support
lol idk but I just don’t see him taking over
he wants to help you be calmer, but he also wants to help you working around the shyness
tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast
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nishigo · 3 years
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an anomaly. // bennett x reader.
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a page from the book of memories.
[ p a g e 3 2 9 。 ]
authors note: hello! this is my first ever attempt at something for genshin impact. this is longer than i expected, and there may be errors here and there, so i am sorry about that in advance. i do hope you will enjoy it though. i got bennett yesterday after rolling and although many say he’s annoying...he’s very much like me in real life. coincidence? i think not. Σ('◉⌓◉’) i also rolled a girl named keqing. she seems nice, and is a five star, but i don’t know if she’s rare. i truly don’t know how this system works, apologies. T^T anyways, traveler, happy reading. (*'▽'*)
word count : 2191
tw : none that i can think of. very much fluff. and perhaps a touch of a flirty!reader. :)
request status at time of posting : open.
in which he had finally someone who could balance out his unluckiness.
would you like to read?
> 行。 ( y e s )
> 不行 。( n o )
———
Bennett was, to put it simply, confused.
He had just finished a mission with you, being your support the whole entire way through. There had been an offering that had been posted on the tavern’s walls in dark, smudged text that caught his eye at an earlier time. It read that whoever could get rid of the new pop-up hilichurl camp that blocked the path to Liyue would receive a grand sum of Mora. Course, running low on money, Bennett had decided to take up the offer. They would be easy enough to take down, just a simple slash of his sword and a few burns here and there could get the job done in no time. However, there was a problem.
No one would come with him.
Bennett knew that he was very...loud. And he was energetic. And annoying. And, though he hated to admit it...he was unlucky.
Everything seemed stacked up against him. Everyone he turned to in the tavern took a simple glance at him and rejected the offer with no further questions asked. He would try to convince them, but they would simply get more annoyed at his stubbornness and shoo him away with a flick of a hand or some splash of beer to the face. It’s not like he could take the older adventurers out either, they could barely walk on their own two feet. They were so old that they certainly would have shriveled up in the sun if he brought them along. So there that option went, leaving him with practically nothing else to turn to.
But then, if he had no one to go with him, what would happen? Would he continue to be stuck in that tavern? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to waste away like that. He was meant to be out there, in a world that could supply him with the thrill and rush that his heart yearned for. The boy desired to be just as great of an adventurer as the ones who came before him, or perhaps, dare he dream, even greater than them. Bennett desired to be a legend. But being a legend could not be done alone, even if that was what Bennett determined he would forever be, deep in the back of his brain.
Which is why you were such an anomaly.
You were the last person he spoke to that night. He was a complete mess. His shirt was damp with beer and some white wine, his white locks were a birds nest with the goggles sliding off slowly, and his eyes looked devoid of life as he took a deep inhale and they brightened up again. This was his last chance. You were the one who was either going to make or break this plan.
“Hello stranger! I am the great Bennett, and I was wondering if you would be able to help assist me with a mission that was posted on the tavern walls. It’s about the hilichurl camp by Liyue! Although I am rather strong, I need some help so it’s done more efficiently and faster. I’m even willing to split the Mora with you that we make out of it! What do you say?” Bennett recited his lines again, as if he was in an interview of sorts. His leafy green eyes watched as you scrunched up your eyebrows, as if thinking and examining him. Your face was blank other than that, lips in a straight line and hand cupping your cheek. Bennett found it to be quite terrifying. It was such an intimidating look, in fact, that he was about to ask you to forget about it before you spoke first.
“Sure.” You stated simply, a smile forming on your face as you crossed your arms.
“Ahhh, understood, I’ll get goi- WAIT!” The pyro boy turned to look right at you as he gasped. His face was one of shock morphed with a cute, ecstatic look. One could compare it to a puppy of sorts. You were not meant to say yes. You were meant to be like everyone else and reject him. He was dumbfounded as he grabbed a hold of your shoulders and tilted his head.
“You’re not joking?!”
“Course not! Why would I do such a thing?” You rebuked before he giddily jumped up and down while pulling you up to a sweet hug. It was a gentle and firm one, though, he pulled away quickly after realizing he still wreaked of alcohol. You told him you didn’t mind it though, making him rub the back of his head sheepishly and laugh. You two would converse for the night, agreeing to meet up at the gate the next morning so he could lead the way to the camp and also split the mora gained evenly. After the small chat, you would leave the tavern to stay at the local inn for the night and get some rest. Bennett’s eyes were trained on you as the door then closed, realization hitting him like a truck: he found someone. He found a real person to take on a mission. Better yet, they were as gorgeous as they were strong. This was better than any dream he could have made up. Bennett decided he had to turn in for the night soon after you left, taking a spot in his cozy bed under the sheets. His eyes closed as the curtains rustled at the soft wind that blew through the window. The pyro’s last thought before going to bed was that he truly hoped that you would fulfill your end of the deal and show up.
And you kept your promise. You were there as the morning sun rose to reflect your beautiful skin, hair flowing gently in the light breeze as he ran up to you and froze. You looked powerful now that you were out of the tavern and he could see you properly. You had on your adventure gear, dressed appropriately for a mission that required taking out many enemies. What caught his attention, though, was your white cape with golden accents that flowed from behind. Flicking your hood down and off your head, your face was now fully visible as you watched him stare. He was adorable, like a little baby who was just discovering the world for the first time.
“You’re really gonna do this with me?” Bennett asked in wonder. His face was blank as a smirk landed itself on your features. You positioned yourself to stand upright, away from the wall you were leaning on as you held your weapon of choice in your dominant hand. As for the other, you outstretched it towards him with a grin.
“Lead the way.”
Bennett didn’t even have to think twice about it as he eagerly took your hand into his own gloved one and began to lead you out of the city and into the wilderness. He seemed to be very hyper from what you could tell, as he couldn’t seem to stop commenting on how he was destined for greatness, or how thankful he was that you were going to come along with him. He also bombarded you with questions about yourself as well, like if this was your first time in Mondstadt or what kind of element you had control over. He was easily excited, but especially when you told him that you were a traveler that had been moving around place to place to see the sights of the world. It was why you were so strong, you had defeated a wide range of enemies, great and small, on your journeys. Bennett was fascinated by that, drawing him to be more and more curious about you. Alas, the questions and storytelling had to wait. You two had arrived at the camp, and it was time to take some enemies down.
You two ended up making a fantastic duo of sorts. With his sword and experience, he was able to cut down enemies with ease. You did the same, your speed and agility outmatched as you two basically made a massacre out of the camp. His fire would spread through the long grass, and with the natural wind, spread quickly to begin burning it all down. You were quick to come to his aid when he would sometimes get backed against the rocks or a tree, helping him heal with some quick magic you had learned. It wasn’t anything special, but it was enough to keep him up and moving. With such precision and perseverance, your duo was able to defeat the camp with relative ease. However, both you and Bennett were still tired from fighting for so long. You two were out of breath as the fire died out, heaving for air as you gave him a head pat and grinned.
“You did amazing out there. You’re a talented pyro user as well, I’m impressed.” There you went again, making him all confused as he sat there. You just complimented him. A powerful traveler, that has practically defeated every sort of monster there is out there, was impressed by him. Bennett, the unlucky, was impressive? For the first time, he was rendered speechless as he looked at you. It was now night, the moon high in the sky as it illuminated your face. Oh goodness, you looked ethereal. The way the stars were reflected in your eyes, the way the gold of your cape sparkled and flowed behind you, the way you smiled at him, like he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen. The only thing that stopped the comfortable silence between you two was the fact that he shivered when a breeze brushed against his pale, scar littered skin. You snapped out of it and looked him up and down, noticing how a lot of his skin was exposed to the chilly night.
“Here, take this.” You told him as you unbuttoned your cape, taking it off your shoulders. With one swoop, you draped it over his own figure, being as gentle as possible as you buttoned it up again. Bennett was reduced to continuing to stay silent as you clothed him. You placed the hood up on top of his head, a hand on your hip as you grinned at him. It was a bit big on him but nonetheless, it was rather cute. You used your other hand to take his chin gently, making him look you in the eyes. He was rather happy that the hood cast a bit of a shadow, because his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as he was forced to look at you.
“Huh. Looks better on you than it does me.” You commented before he seemed to regain his ability to speak.
“You need this more than me! I-i’m literally a pyro user, I c-can heat myself-” You hushed him, letting go of his chin as you put a finger to his peach pink lips.
“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t waste your energy to heat up, especially since we have to walk back to town. I’ll be fine, I’ve been through worse weather situations.” He glanced down at your finger, and then back to you as you dropped your hand and began walking down the path again, back towards the city. Why did you have to be so, so...enchanting? And you were so smooth as well! He had never been so flustered when talking to someone, heck, he was the one who was meant to be doing most of the talking! Though, he supposed that him being talkative didn’t equate to being able to flirt. But something about the thought of you leaving made him pout. It was as if the butterflies were leaving his stomach, but they left him emptier than before.
Bennett refused to be lonely anymore. Not when he had you.
“Hey, darling!~ Would you stop standing there and staring off into space? I know I look wonderful tonight, but we gotta get a move on! We won’t be able to get to town and rest our weary bones if you keep this up!~” You called out to him, making him shake his head and refocus. Right, a bed. Sleep did sound rather good right now, along with a shower and something to quench his thirst. He ran and caught up to you, walking by your side as he grinned. He began to already ask about other missions that the two of you could do together, like gathering supplies for the alchemist or helping around the town for some spare Mora here and there. Bennett then stopped for a moment again, looking at you.
“Would you like to work together again?” There was a moment of silence before you nodded.
“I think I would. We make a great team.” Bennett then continued walking with you, as if time didn’t just stop for a second as he went back to his usual, bubbly nature. The more he thought about it, the happier it made him. More adventures to be made. More memories to be created. All with you at his side the entire time.
And you would make all the difference.
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