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sluttywoozi · 2 months

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Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural au

Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.

Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, suggestive thoughts, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat

Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)

It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this.

This being a vampire, of course.

He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead.

Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically.

There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds.

That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels.

That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.

He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing.

He puts an ad out on Craigslist.

Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures.

He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing?

He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread.

The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago.

That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home.

Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way.

He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up.

Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could

Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait.

Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines.

His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you.

You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either.

Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety.

You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)

So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?

If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you.

Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger.

In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing.

But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear.

He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is.

Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you.

It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers.

You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you.

The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him.

You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in.

In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running.

It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one.

Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry.

You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly.

You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him.

Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.

This should be a good environment to test it out, you think.

You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget.

What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?

Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?

It’s a shame you don’t get to find out.

Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth.

There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you.

His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down.

“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face.

He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him.

Your scent.

It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there.

Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him.

He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower.

Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you.

He’s miles out of the city before he stops running.

When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame.

He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry.

Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees.

He feels like it’s taunting him.

The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up.

He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was.

He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.

It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much.

Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand.

He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s.

This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding.

This moon is the one he ruined everything under.

He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more.

How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?

How could he ever not want more with you?

You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you.

The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet.

That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you.

You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him.

You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t.

He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.

Fuck, this is all your fault.

You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind.

It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around.

Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead.

You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one.

So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned.

With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside.

“Hello?”

“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice.

“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response.

“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice.

“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!”

“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.

“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself.

“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight.

“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind.

“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him.

You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase.

What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?

“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his).

“Y/n, I’m not risking you.”

He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon.

“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no.

“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.

“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes.

A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned.

“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before.

You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now.

“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh.

“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger.

“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do.

“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”

He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone.

As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart.

“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance.

Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so.

“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!

pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰

*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!

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Part II

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juvenillia · 5 months

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~ under my skin ~ John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [fluff/smut oneshot]

Summary: Johnny never wanted any more tattoos. Memories and people were more important to him than a little sketch on his skin. He didn't need those to be reminded of what he hold dear, because he kept all that in his heart. This opinion somehow changed when he met you and suddenly he found himself with five fresh tattoos that meant the world to him. Because these five tattoos reminded him of something he wanted to stay for eternity. The ink holding a meaning deeper than the bare eye could ever see.

a/n: this one was supposed to be a sweet short oneshot about Johnny falling for his tattoo artist but somehow it escalated very quickly and it could've been even longer but I stopped right there (for now)

tw/cw: tattooartist!reader, needles (ofc), tooth rotting fluff, smut, suggestive content, petnames, mentions of a past toxic relationship, flirting, mentions of angst, violence (but only the slightest, this is pure fluff), bestfriend!simon, comfort, love at first sight, pinning

wordcount: 10.4k [upps]

》 Read on AO3 《》 Masterpost 《

„C’mon Lt. Tell me,” Johnny bragged him for the millionth time today. They just arrived back at base after a draining operation, but as soon as Soap could turn his work brain off, he only had one thought on his mind. For three weeks there was one thing circling his thoughts and he had to pay a lot of effort to shove this one aside during the mission. Therefor he had no intentions in holding back anymore now. Three weeks ago, that was the actual day his world took a sudden turn.

Simon and he had to go undercover through London. Following a trace of a Russian insider who would lead them to their actual target. Nothing unusual. Something the 141 was used to it. Also, it wasn’t that uncommon that their trace led them to a well crowded area, where they needed to observe and find the target person. Usually, it would’ve been Gaz and Price going undercover, or some more rarely even Soap and Gaz, because they were simply the most unobtrusive, but this place literally screamed for Simon and Johnny to go. It was a tattoo convention. A place where numerous of eager artist presented their skills and works. A place where you found the most eccentrical looks. No one would bat an eye about the behemoth of a man Simon was, plus he already had numerous of tattoos covering his body. While Johnny on the other hand seemed to be just the guy looking for some new ones, next to his quite discreet one. They just blended in perfectly in between the many kinds of humans strolling through these halls.

That way they walked through the halls, keeping their eyes open to find their target. Price and Gaz stayed in touch with them over the comms, observing everything from afar, watching their six for just in case. They looked through all the booths, looked at every artist they could find. They didn’t know much about their actual target, only that he frequented a specific tattoo artist with a unique style. “Find the artist, find the man,” Laswell’s words echoed through Johnny’s head as he scanned through a portfolio of the booth he just stopped by. The works looked all perfectly made, with an amazing eye to details and such fine lines. Some medals and trophies placed next to their winning projects decorating the desk. If he ever would get another tattoo, he’d be sure to find an artist with that level of skill. Still, he really wasn’t into getting another one. Never found something with enough meaning to stay with him forever. In his job most of things were just temporally and those who weren’t, those were kept in his heart. No need to ink them into his skin. He absently browsed through the pictures of various body parts decorated with stunning grey and black artworks. His mind keeping track on the conversation Price and Ghost just shared when Johnny’s eyes just locked onto a picture of a back piece with which he was somehow familiar with.

“Something caught your interest?” a soft female voice dragged him out of his haze, but Soap only shook his head no. Closing the booklet in front of him as his eyes wandered slowly upwards to be met with a pair of bright eyes. Some of the prettiest he had ever seen sparkled into his own. Usually, he’d bring out a cheeky comment, a bold smile on his lips. But as his clear azure eyes stared into yours, no words left his throat. He was frozen in place, completely smitten. You gifted him one of your sweetest smiles, which just grew wider when you noticed another man behind the speechless Scot. “Simon!” you cried out, eagerly rounding the desk to give the man a quick hug, which he returned, somehow a bit tense. Johnny only blinked in disbelief at the two of you.

“Hey…” Simon gave your shoulder a quick pat before his eyes met Johnny’s. A warning hidden in his glare, something the Scot haven’t seen so often aimed at himself. Mostly at enemies while interrogation, but nearly never at himself. It made him swallow, before he calmed himself.

“I hope you aren’t looking for a replacement,” you teased while taking his beefy arm into your hand. Inspecting his tattoo sleeve, or better said your work from a few weeks ago. Letting your delicate fingers follow the black lines down to his wrist. Perfectly healed before he had to leave for deployment again. You always made sure he came as early as possible so that your art wouldn’t get destroyed.

“Why should I leave ‘e best?” he nudged you with his elbow, only the slightest, before you let go of his wrist. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. His eyes pinned at your figure. Softer than Johnny was used to it.

“Well, won’t argue with that.” You laughed, while pushing your hands into your hips. You wore a simple pair of black cargo pants. Pockets stuffed full of necessities for the day. Your phone, your vape, some little snacks, some business cards, a pocket mirror and your favorite lipstick, a small ring light for your phone, and stuff you could need at a convention. Headphones loosely hanging around your neck connected to your phone, and the crew tag hanging loose from your belt around your hips, where your shirt was neatly tugged into your pants. The simple shirt revealing your own tattoos on your arms. “Besides…” your voice got that teasing, nearly mocking tone again. “I’d kick your ass for cheating on me.” You punched his upper arm playfully. Knowing that you could never even cause him pain. That’s why he was one of your favorite customers, you could just pull through an eight-hour session without him growing tired or whiney. He would just sit it out, listening to your tea, sharing a quick smoke in between.

“’m sure ya do, sweetheart.” He smiled softly beneath the casual black mask. He just got dragged out of this private comfort as Johnny cleared his throat a bit too dramatic for Simon’s liking. “That’s John by the way.” A sigh left his throat as he pointed at his teammate who eagerly stepped forward to you.

“Friends call me Johnny though.” His smile reached his eyes as he reached his hand out to you and you took it, shaking it with a smile. Eventually his thumb brushed over your knuckles during the process.

“Pleasure to meet you. Heard already a lot,” you cooed, squeezing your eyes shut while crossing your arms in front of your chest. Johnny’s smile faltered for a second, thinking about the things his Lieutenant could’ve told you already. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing he thought. Just then you told him your name before he repeated it quietly. Letting its sound roll over his tongue, the same smile from earlier on his lips.

“Would love to chat with ya more, y’know, but...” Simon interrupted the scenery in front of him. His glance searching for the blue ones of his teammate, sending him a knowing glance. “work…,” he said in his usual stern manner but still calm. You only nodded your head.

“And I thought you would drop by to say hi. I’m violated, Riley.” You faked a shocked face before a chuckle left your throat. Simon’s glance softened at your statement. “My work’s also waiting.” You pointed to a guy with a naked upper body half and half-finished chest piece. “Some awards to bring home you know.” You smiled smug patting your flat palm against his chest. Simon only nodded; his brows relaxed.

Johnny couldn’t suppress his bright smile the whole time, his eyes watching every move you made. It amazed him how much at ease you were with Ghost, because Soap knew it took a lot for him to be comfortable around people. Especially civilians. But Johnny couldn’t blame him, you already got him hooked as well. That’s when something clicked in his head. “Wait a sec.” He pulled a picture out of his jacket. Simon tensed, as the Scot moved to show you said image. “Yer recognizing that style?” his voice was serious but somehow, he couldn’t suppress the adoration beneath it.

“Johnny…” Simon instantly had a scolding tone lingering in his voice. He knew from the beginning that he could’ve asked you about that specific artist. He knew you were quite known in the scene, having contacts everywhere, but he didn’t want you to get involved in all that his life was. Yes, he told you a few things about it. Especially when getting his own dog tags inked under his skin. You knew about some things he didn’t like to talk about. Especially when you decided to grab some dinner after a session, and he grew more comfortable around you. And with that he grew to become one of your closest friends. You knew many things about the ghost he was. You knew that his job was bone crushing and bloody. Still, he didn’t want you to get corrupted by it.

You ignored Simon and took the picture out of the Scot hands. Your eyes lingering on his forearm for a while - you called it occupational disease – before you investigated the work in the picture. It was nothing special for the unknown eye, but you saw anything that wasn’t traditional made. You saw every line that had a personal note in it. “Check out Mad Hatters studio, Misha I suppose. Could also be Sasha, he did learn from Misha though,” you stated while still looking at the picture.

“Thanks, bonnie.” Johnny’s tongue was faster than his mind as he once more caught himself starring at you. You looked at him, your face relaxed again. Your features were like a flame, warming him up from the inside as himself became a moth pulled to it all the way.

“Don’t even wanna know what you need from them. Good luck,” you said looking at Simon, who’s brows were ached in concern. You then turned back to Johnny. Your eyes once more clinging to the small piece on his arm. “I could do better.” You winked at him, the smug grin playing on your lips as you gave the picture back to the Scot. It caused Johnny to really start considering getting another one. He was that impulsive, and if there wasn’t that dumb job to get done, he would immediately jump onto your chair. Just to see how you would do it, just to see you more, feeling your delicate fingers running over his skin. Simon watched the scenery with an unsettled rumble in his stomach, as you walked back behind your booth and pulled some black rubber gloves out of the box. Smiling once more at the men in front of you and with a little wave you turned around to get to your model.

“Boys… focus,” Price cleared his throat and scolded them after watching the whole situation a bit longer than he should have in the first place. But still you gave them the needed evidence. You led them to the person they needed. So, the operation could process any further until they found their actual target three weeks later.

All those incidents leading us back to the day when Johnny didn’t stop to ask his Lieutenant about his tattoo artist. ��Why’d ya want to know anyways?” Simon’s Manchester accent was thick as he rolled his eyes. He already knew why the Scot wanted to know. Simon knew that his teammate didn’t want any more tattoos. They had plenty of talks about it. Always when he came with a new one back from leave, Soap told him ‘not up to that Lt’. And suddenly he wanted to know your name and the studio you worked in, or better said own.

“I really want to get that one tattoo…alright. Made up ma mind.” Johnny’s nearly whiney voice pulled at the little strings that made his bag of nerves up. Simon was a patient man, especially when it came to his team. Still, he didn’t want to get you involved with more of his life. Knowing that Johnny would tell you so many stories that wouldn’t be meant for your ears. Knowing you too well, fearing that this could become more. “C’mon Lt. Please. Dinnea let me down!” Simon only rolled his eyes at him and wrote an address down. You could see his hesitation in his handwriting, but Johnny would find out this way or another.

And a few days later Johnny found himself in London, in front of a cozy looking studio. Warm lights inviting him in. A bell jingled sweet as he pushed through the door. The place lovely decorated with plants, fairy lights and some candles. Framed pictures of stunning works along the wall as he walked up to the counter. “One moment.” A familiar voice clung from the back to his ear and made him instantly smile. It was ridiculous how your voice was already imprinted in his brain from such a small encounter. “What a pleasant surprise. How can I help you, Johnny?” you cooed smiling at him. Relaxing your arms on the counter and your body weight on it.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” his voice was calm as he leaned against the counter, closer to where you placed yourself. “Gonna show me how ye can do better, bonnie.” The smug grin facing your figure. The first time you caught him off guard. This time he prepared himself.

You exhaled sharp, followed by a chuckle. “That’s not how it works, darling.” You reached to your side and pulled a book in front of him. “I have a tightly filled schedule. Didn’t Si told you how I work?” You raised a brow at him. Johnny only shook his head no, while the smile started to falter. Seeing the gloss in his eyes slowly fading made your stomach turn. Why did he affect you so much? “Damn idiot…” you pinched the bridge of your nose. You opened the book and went through the appointments of the next days. “How big you’re planning?” Your eyes scanning through the upcoming projects.

His eyes instantly lighting up again. He was like a puppy that just got told they were going to the park. It was adorable. “Well, as big as it need to be. But upper arm.” He pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal his perfect toned arm and presented the area he thought of as placement. A veiny hand circling around the spot. Your eyes were pinned onto the flexing muscles as you felt a certain warmth creeping up your stomach. It’s not like you didn’t saw well shaped men rarely, but something about John MacTavish was different to say the least.

“Alright.” You slid your phone over. “Put your number in. I’ll see if I can fit you in the next days.” He eagerly took the phone and put his number in. Before you could say something or even snatch it back, he even dialed it to give himself yours. It made you chuckle as you took your phone back. You looked at the contact, there was only ‘johnny’ written with his number of course. “Lastname?”

“Already wanna take it, lass? I like straightforward.” There was that coquettish smile back on his face. His azure eyes staring into yours. “MacTavish, would suit ye though.” He slowly licked over his lips, as his eyes didn’t dare to avert from yours.

“You’d wish.” You typed his last name in. “Johnny is just a really common name, and you don’t want me to call the wrong one. Don’t you?” you teased, still a slight blush on your face. He shook his head no, while straighten himself up.

“Aye, would be a shame.” He placed his hand quickly onto yours which laid on the counter. Giving it a quick squeeze, before leaving again. “Waitin’ for yer call, bonnie.”

That call came like two days later. You managed to rearrange some appointments to clear a day for the Scot. Telling yourself that it was only because he was a friend of Simon. Not because you found quite a liking in the man and his flirtatious manner. So, two days later he was seated in your shop again. Upper half of his body completely stripped. He told you he was more comfortable with wearing no shirt at all, then pushing the sleeve up again and again. Yes, he could’ve just worn a tank-top but who were you to judge? He was quite a treat for the eyes. You just prepped his upper arm with the stencil as he told you a story how he tried to sneak into the military while he wasn’t even old enough.

“Simon was right, you’re unbelievable.” You smiled while smoothing the stencil paper over his arm. He stayed completely still, while his inside was trembling as he felt your delicate touch on his skin. Even with you wearing those gloves it gave him so much to enjoy. Desperate for more already.

“Hope he only told yer good things. Dinnea want ye to think bad of me.” He smiled sincere. His face turned to you, as you slowly removed the paper. It was close to yours, as your glance found his once more. The smile he wore reached his eyes and again you found yourself with the same warmth on your cheeks, your own lips tugged up in a genuine smile.

“Don’t worry. Only the best.” You chuckled while rolling with your stool a bit away to look at the outline of the work. “Take a look, if we can start or if you want to change a thing.” You took a mirror to let him get a proper look at the piece. “Speak now, or forever hold your peace. Because this is going to stay with you for eternity.” You were used to customers completely smitten by the stencil itself, but with Johnny it was different. His eyes were shining bright, as bright as his smile. But his eyes were more pinned on you, and not onto the future piece of art decorating his skin.

“Dinnea think of anything to change. Dae yer thing, bonnie,” he cooed, and it gave you that feeling in your guts again. Somehow you believed he didn’t even care about the tattoo itself. Still, he used something that fitted him perfectly. Well, as perfect as you could assume from Simon’s stories. And the following hours reassured you. With that you started to let the needles sink into his skin for the next seven hours. Black and white ink forming a masterpiece just after your liking while you listened to all the stories Johnny shared eagerly with you. Asking you many questions about your life beside the studio and customers. Asking about your family. You learned that he had two sisters and was really close to them as well to his mum. He shared openly so much information about himself, that you yourself kept talking about everything under the sun.

Sometimes he had to reposition his arm that you could reach a spot better. What led to a half hour of his calloused palm resting on your thigh. He couldn’t help but let his thumb stroke over the fabric of your pants. You’d lie if you said you didn’t enjoy it. With your job it came naturally to be close and kind of touchy-feely with your customers. But it wasn’t so common for you, that it affected you personally. Especially when it came so casually by him. He kept talking about that one time when his teammate, Gaz, fell out of a helicopter. Even if Johnny wasn’t there himself, he told the story so passionately that you believed you were there yourself while his thumb still caressed your thigh. His gently touch making your stomach tingle as you tried to stay focused.

Soon seven hours came to an end and a boar’s head was now engraved onto his upper right arm. Not like the usual animal portrait you so often had to do. No, it was indeed something more meaningful to him. Connecting the pride for his home country to his family, mixed with your personal note to give the tattoo a specific spice. Johnny loved it as he stood proudly in front of the mirror, investigating every line you made.

“It’s fuckin’ perfect. Bonnie, yer the best,” he exhaled while placing a quick peck onto the crown of your head while turning back to the mirror. His gesture left you breathless for only a second. Emotional outbursts after a finished session weren’t something you were unfamiliar with, but Johnny always added another note to his actions and words. A subtle undertone that gave you butterflies.

“Glad you like it.” You smiled putting on another pair of gloves on to clean the piece and wrap it up properly. “You know how to take care of it?” you said calm while placing the second skin onto the fresh wound. Johnny shook his head slightly and it earned him a chuckle. “Alright, the second skin stays on for like five days. If it loosens before, don’t break your pretty head about it. Then you wash it with usual water and cream it with special lotion. I’ll give you some. No gym, nothing to make you sweat more. No sunbathing and no swimming for the next two weeks,” you said reaching to your supplies to get a tube of tattoo med out. “You should drop by then to let me have a look. If we need to improve…redo some things, or if everything heals perfectly fine.”

“Lass could simply ask me out if ye wanna see me again.” He winked while pulling his shirt back on. His eyes never leaving your figure and finding a liking in seeing you all flustered. He was good looking; indeed, he knew the effect he held against woman. But with you it was different. He just wanted you to like him, to look at him like he thought he looked at you. Smitten.

“Not my kinda style.” You shrugged it off. What somehow demotivated the Scot. The whole time you were flirting back and forth with him, and when he discreetly asked you out, you turned so distant. He wouldn’t give up so easily though. Therefore, he was way too eager, but he called it a day. Paying you your loan and with that you somehow parted ways. The job was done, and you both went after your business.

Unfortunately, Johnny couldn’t stop by after the two weeks mark was passed. He got suddenly drafted in again, he just shot you a quick text.

Johnny MacTavish [09:03] Sry, bonnie. Works callin. Gonna make it up to ye ;)

You [10:36] Don’t ruin my masterpiece.

You [10:39] Come back alive.

Johnny chuckled silently after your second message arrived. Those three words gave him an unbearable urge to see you again. Already sitting on the truck next to Simon. “Ye couldn’t keep her away forever, Lt.,” he snickered, shoving his phone into the pocket that would stay off the fields.

“At least I tried…” Simon sighed half annoyed, but half amused. He knew both of you well enough to know, that you’d fit each other’s liking way too good. It was hard to keep up with one of you, but having both combined would bring him the death of his peace. But he was sure, that it wouldn’t become something more. At least he hoped. You had rules, and on top of the list stood: No flings with customers. Especially not after what happened with your ex. So, Simon was sure that Johnny would become at furthest a good friend to you, just like Simon did. He was as sure as he was that this operation would be easy and that nothing would keep them occupied for too long. But Simon was so very wrong about both.

The mission went south faster than Price could smoke his cigar. Kyle was the worst injured, while Johnny didn’t sustain any injuries. It made it clear again. Clear how dangerous the path was they were following. He loved his job; he wouldn’t change a thing. But to know that he almost lost his teammates, it made something to him. So, while sitting at the train station, that should bring him back to Scotland to spend some time to recover, he pulled his phone out.

Johnny MacTavish [12:29] Yer havin a free spot for yer fave Scot?<3

You [12:39] Drop by the studio tomorrow noon.

You [12:41] Sacrificing my days off for you. Make it worthy.

Johnny MacTavish [12:42] Aye!

And Johnny made sure to make it worthy. Instantly jumping on a train to London, instead of home. Booking a hotel nearby on the way and making sure to collect some stuff on the way. He picked up some good lunch on the way to the studio. Making sure to treat you right. He even thought about buying some flowers, but he didn’t want to make you somehow uncomfortable.

When he wanted to push the door once more open, it didn’t move an inch. Just then you walked up from the inside, unlocking the door and letting him in. “Hello there. C’mon in.” You held the door open for him to slide in. Locking the door once more after him, avoiding passing customers. “So, what’s the idea Mr. I don’t want any more tattoos?” you asked him mockingly, while he placed his stuff at the couch in the waiting area and unzipped his hoodie. You were used that customer often came back after the first one. Literally nobody stayed with only one of your pieces. For Johnny you were overly glad that he came back though.

“It’s even more special than before,” he said calm while pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to you. You took it in, and a little smile played on your lips. “I trust ye with it,” he added before his eyes met yours. You knew that look. It wasn’t the cheeky and playful smile. It was genuine, meaningful and he entrusted you with this, it made your heart flutter. So, you took your graphic tablet and get it to work out. Just as perfect as it needed to be.

You were seated on the couch in your waiting area next to him, while he kept telling your stories of operation and after-operation celebrations. He didn’t talk about the most recent one. You kept listening to his voice as you drew the outline for his next piece. He leaned a bit closer into your side, his head resting on your shoulder as he looked at the tablet. His talk paused. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You didn’t move, let him rest against you as you inhaled his scent. He smelled nothing like you’d imagine a soldier. Nothing like Simon when he came to the studio. He smelled just fresh. His mohawk holding a scent of balsam in, but also like a tone of green apple. “Something to fault it?” you asked calm.

“Yer dae even better.” Johnny let his head linger on your shoulder while his eyes scanned over the screen. There was shown a hat, a cap and a skull in your original style. Something so insignificant to others, but something so important to him. You sketched it out and prepared the stencil as he stripped his shirt once more. You stood in front of him as you looked at the piece from the last time. Checking if anything was damaged, a satisfied smile on your lips. Just then you prepared his left chest for the three symbols. His hands twitched as you stroke over his chest, and he just wished for you to ditch those damn gloves. His eyes pinned down to your figure, as you wore a little smile, while your fingers worked over his chest.

It took another good amount of time to get this piece done. You took more breaks this time. Sharing some of the food he brought, and many laughs, while he laid on the flat bed and your next to him. Carefully going after the lines of the stencil, while his arm slipped around you and his hand lingered on your waist so often during the process. You didn’t mind. Neither of you said something about it, just enjoyed the company, the closeness as you shared some more chats. But sooner than later this session come to an end. That way you found yourself standing next to him, observing his face as he looked at the latest addition in the mirror. A smile playing on his lips. It wasn’t like the bright and toothy ones; it was heart melting and genuine. Something so meaningful. “Tapadh leat,” he said a bit absently. It made you raise your brows. His eyes finding yours, while his hands finding your waist. “Thank ye,” he repeated for you to understand, and you smiled, while he didn’t dare to pull you closer. His huge palms only squeezing your side a bit as you stood in front of each other.

“It’s my job, Johnny,” you said calm. And he shook his head no, while he once more squeezed your waist what made you tilt your head in confusion slightly. But you didn’t give it another thought. You wrapped his tattoo up; he pulled his clothes on again and you went to the front desk for the check out. You broke down the skin routine once more with him, but he interrupted you.

“Go out with me,” he said abruptly before you could even say something more. His voice was desperate, but at the same time so gentle.

“MacTavish…” you sighed while your own heart ached. You had your rules. A rule you broke once, and it was the worst decision you ever made. Simon had to help you back then to free you from the stalker your ex-customer and ex-boyfriend was. And with his leaving you lost many regular customers and friends. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it again, even if you knew that Johnny would be different. Even when your heart screamed to just say yes to him.

“Otherwise, I need to come back every time on leave to get another one.” His voice gave you some hints of a joke, still you weren’t so sure about it if he really was joking. His eyes were filled with a certainty, a determination. You averted your eyes.

“I am sorry…” you said calm. But he only declined it. His face a bit defeated, but still something told you he wasn’t done with the thought. Simon told you once how stubborn this man could be, so you steeled yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t give in. Even if it would be hard when those azure eyes literal begged for you to do so.

“Gonna stay ‘n London for three weeks. If ye make up yer mind. Ye ken how to find me,” he said while leaving your studio.

You exhaled deeply after closing the door after him. Waving after him as he crossed the street. His eyes still bright as always. You cleaned up the studio and went to the front desk for a last time today. As you flipped you through the bills to put them away something different caught your interest. A little paper neatly folded between the notes. You took it and unfolding it. It revealed a sketch of your own face. It was a unique art style, and it made your heart ache even more. Under the sketch was something written in a sloppy handwriting. ‘nae stunning as the original’ You pressed the paper to your chest, while a desperate chuckle left your throat. “John MacTavish…you’re gonna be the death of mine,” you said calm to yourself as you put the drawing into your personal journal.

“He came for ‘nother one?” It was a few days after your gripping encounter with the Scot when Simon was seated in your studio again. Working to add a new part to his back piece. You only nodded, even if he couldn’t see it. “Ya like him, don’t ya?” The Brit said calm. You paused your work for a second. Not answering him was answer enough for Simon, what made him chuckle deeply.

“Si…” you exhaled while continuing your work. You wanted to say so much about that topic because he was right. You liked him. He already reserved a place in your heart for himself and the last days were only filled with that god damn genuine smile of the Scot. You found yourself often at night looking at the portrait he gifted you. Asking yourself how long you’d be able to turn him down.

“Tomorrow, drinks at yer place.” It wasn’t an offer, more like an order and you sighed. Not like you and Simon didn’t spend some time of sessions together. You were close after all. Drinking and talking or just watching some stupid shows together at your apartment. Even if the thought of you meeting his teammate still annoyed Simon, he couldn’t bring himself to watch two idiots pinning for each other when it was way too obvious. And even if he wouldn’t admit it for anyone to hear, seeing two of the people he liked the most falling for each other, it made the coldness of his own heart melt. You only needed a little excuse to ditch your rules. Even if Simon hated to break those. If it meant that you could finally be happy again after your ex, he was willing to help.

Lt💀 [17:09] 1900 at the studio

John MacTavish [17:11] What yer up to Lt?

Lt💀 [17:15] Don’t ask stupid questions.

Johnny knew better than asking more questions, so he got ready and made sure to be punctual. It was Sunday, so the studio was indeed closed as he stood in front of it at 18:56. As Simon walked around the corner, wearing all casual sweatpants and a hoodie, Johnny was even more confused. The Brit had a plastic bag from a nearby grocery store in one hand. “C’mon Johnny.” He punched his shoulder playfully while walking around the studio, aiming for a door in the side alley.

“Mind fillin’ me in, Lt?” he arched his brow at him while trailing close after him. Hands pushed into the pockets of his denim pants. Somehow, he felt overdressed next to the way too casual look of his Lieutenant.

Simon looked at his watch, waiting for another minute to pass. So, it was actual 7 p.m. and he pressed the button of an intercom. “It’s Simon for tonight,” he said, shooting Johnny a glare who only looked more confused but raising his hands in defense. The door started to buzz, and Simon pushed it open, signaling Johnny to follow him. Climbing some stairs before they found themselves in front of another door, which already stood a gap open. So, Simon naturally walked in, kicked his shoes of and Johnny followed his lead.

“Hello there,” you chimed while walking up to give Simon a quick hug, which he returned before ditching his mask. Your eyes switching to Johnny who just wore a stunned smile. He had thought of many things to happen tonight, but not to find himself in your apartment together with his Lieutenant and a various beers and whiskeys.

You all shared some good laughs, some amazing and catching stories. You told them about some cringe customers and very hilarious stories they shared with you. Johnny and Simon entertained you with sharing stories of their daily events. Johnny didn’t know what excited him more, the way he saw his stoic superior so at ease around you. Joking, laughing and even open so much. Or the fact that you were seated next to him, somehow always having one of his limbs touching any part of you as his eyes were glued to your lips.

It was an easy-going evening when you all had way too many drinks. You were just on the way to bring some empty bottles over to the kitchen when you could hear the teasing voice of Simon once more. “For a lad, that didn’t want any more tattoos, ya fast with getting’ new ones,” he joked, and Johnny only scratched his neck. His cheeks tainted red, mostly from the alcohol running through his system you supposed. “Ya know, Kyle even bet ya’d get a trump stamp if necessary.”

Johnny let out a wholehearted laugh. To be honest, if his whole body was already covered in tattoos and this would be the only way to see you again. He’d do it without hesitation. Hesitation was something you didn’t know today either. Just like that you walked over to the Scot. “Real talk now.” Without a warning you sat down, straddling his lap as your arms found his shoulders. Johnny only swallowed, sobered up so suddenly as you pushed your body weight onto him. “If you ever get a tramp stamp and I am not the person to do it… we won’t have a shared future darling,” you said mockingly, while your hands found some loose strains of his hair. Simon only laughed as he leaned back in the armchair, sipping on the beer in his hand. Watching the scenery in front of him in amusement.

“Bonnie, yer the only one for me. Ya ken,” he said while his beefy hands found your waist, helping to stabilize you on top of him. His words held much more meaning in it than you’d realize in your drunken state. His heartbeat quickened up as your fingers played with his hair. The redness of his cheeks rose, just like a certain tightness in his pants. He just hoped to not scare you away. But he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hide it, you simply had to feel it the way you were seated just above the bulge.

You only laughed. Eventually you felt his arousal, eventually you just chose to not pay any attention to it. “Then let’s do it,” you joked, leaning a bit back to look at him properly. He looked flabbergasted back at you.

“Sweetheart, yer drunk,” Simon cooed, and Johnny literally forgot that the Brit was there until this very moment. At this point, he felt somehow embarrassed but also thrilled at the same time.

“Darling. You’d be able to kill a man when drunk. Aren’t ya?” you tilted your head to the Brit with a devilish smile. Simon only sighed, and your smile grew. “See! And I can tattoo then.” You laughed, turning your attention back to the Scot, who by now started to let his thumbs stroke over your waist, drawing lazy circles into the fabric of your top. “What you’re saying, love?” your mischievous smile aimed at him as your eyes pierced into his.

“Fuck it. Let’s dae it,” he said. The alcohol running through his veins was the main reason he agreed, but how could he deny you, when you were so beautifully seated above him. Hands stroking a long his neck and hairline what sent shivers down his spine. His mind was hazy, and he didn’t care for any consequences.

“That’s my boy!” You laughed while slowly standing up. “Benefits of living just above the studio.” You reached for the keys to the studio and signaled the men to follow you. Just a few minutes later you found yourself in the studio downstairs, everything prepared for this very spontaneous and somehow dumb idea. If you’d be sober, you’d never agreed on it. Giving a tattoo to a drunken person is indeed very unreasonable. The body tend to bleed way more with alcohol rushing through it. Quite apart from being drunk yourself. But who said that you made wise decisions in the whole process?

Johnny was positioned on his stomach on the flat bad. His shirt gone once more, and his pants awkwardly pulled down to reveal the required spot. Simon was seated next to you, as you started to draw a tramp stamp freehand on his lower back. For this part you ditched the glove and Johnny couldn’t be happier about it. At the same time, he found himself in quite the misery. This tattoo session giving him a literal hard time, while Simon talked with you the whole time and Johnny only felt your delicate skin onto him. Simon laughed from time to time about the design or the muffled groans the Scot let out. Johnny was certain that Simon did fairly well know about his misery.

In your current state the tattoo took way longer than it would usually have been. But you didn’t mind. The delicious view in front of you made it easier to pull through. And now while your mind was flooded with those inappropriate thoughts, you couldn’t suppress the longing the Scot caused deep in your heart.

“What’d you think, Si?” you placed the tattoo gun down and looked at the artwork, wiping the excess ink away. It wasn’t your masterpiece, but you were more than satisfied.

“Bloody ‘ell. ‘s perfect.” Simon laughed, while looking at the lower back of the Scot.

“Lemme see.” Johnny carefully stood up and walked over the mirror. You haven’t talked about a design, he trusted you to just do your thing and the face he just wore made it so worthy. Even if he would’ve been pissed seeing it. “Haud yer wheesht!” Johnny stood in front of the mirror and looked over his shoulder to see a squiggly tribal leading to the center of nothing else than a unicorn.

“You don’t like it?” you walked up to him, standing just in front of him as he faced you again. There was no regret in his face, only a smile on his lips before he started to laugh wholeheartedly. He pulled you close to his chest as he kept laughing and you just joined him. Placing your hand gentle on his bare back as you started to giggle yourself. It felt way too comfortable.

“Wait a damn minute.” It was Simon who interrupted the scenery. Pulling you a bit away from him. Not forcefully, not to cause any harm. He looked stunned at the chest of the Scot, while his hand was still placed on your shoulder from his earlier action. “Ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he said with disbelief in his voice staring at the three familiar icons on the bare chest in front of him.

Johnny only smiled at him. “Surprise.” His hands stayed at your hips, as all of you three started to laugh at the situation. One of your hands pulling at Simon’s shirt what led to a tight hug shared between the three of you.

Time passed and you haven’t heard of one of them in the next months. You were used to it through your friendship with Simon. But now it was different. It bugged you more than before. Of course, you always did kind of worry for the man, but now there were two men you struggled about. You needed to fight the internal urge to shoot him a message. Asking if he’d be fine and safe, but you didn’t. Not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him.

It already turned fall when and you started to decorate the studio. The whole place screamed Halloween now, but it wasn’t enough. One of your favorite seasons and it needed to be celebrated right. It was already quite late as you received a text that your appointment for tomorrow cancelled due to sickness. You hated last minute cancellations because you wouldn’t find any replacement. But this time it was somehow fine. The last days were so stuffed full that you could actually look forward to a day off. So, you made plans to go shopping for even more decorations. Enjoying a day off just for yourself. Well, that was your actual plan. A plan that got thrown over as soon as you noticed a familiar face walking through the front door. You turned around and greeted him with a bright smile. Relieve settling in your bones to see him again. He walked strictly up to you and only stopped a few centimeters away. “Johnny.” Before you could even say anything more, he pulled you close to his chest, and you completely engulfed in his embrace. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, as your hands found his back. Drawing lazy circles on his back.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. You didn't know how long until you spoke again. “I can make you some tea and we can talk. If you want to,” you offered with a soft voice, your hand still caressing his back through the thick layers of his jacket.

“Need something stronger.” Was his only response. So, you closed the store and brought him upstairs. He instantly sank down on your couch as you grabbed the bottle of whiskey and purred him a glass. “Thanks, bonnie,” he said calm while taking the glass. You sat next to him; your eyes filled with concern. The usual smile washed away from his face.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Johnny,” you literally begged him. Your hands finding his thigh, what made him look at you. His eyes were still the same azure ones you fell for, but somehow, they looked pale. He looked drained and tired.

He leaned closer to you, until his forehead was resting against yours. Eyes closed, while his hand found the back of your head. “I was scared…” His voice just above a whisper. A quiet confession. “so fuckin’ scared…that I wouldn’t be able to see you again.” His fingers stroked through your hair as you closed your eyes. Trying to suppress the sudden burn you felt in your eyes. His honesty broke your mind and the sheer thought of not being able to reunite with him anymore, it broke your heart. But he was here with you. He was safe with you. Still, you were only friends. You shouldn’t feel those things for your friend.

“I am here, Johnny.” Your voice was soft as your palms found his chest. “I am not going anywhere.” You added a little reassuring tone before he pulled his head only a centimeter away from yours. His blue eyes somewhat brighter than before, staring in yours. You melted right there as his other hand discarded the glass to reach out to your cheek. Your eyes were glued onto the gaze he gifted you. His eyes filled with adoration as the corner of his lips slightly tugged up again.

“Please…” His thumb stroked over your cheek before it took a gentle grip of your jawline. “Let me kiss you.” His glance darted between your lips and your eyes, waiting for your response with anticipation. The slight movement of your head giving him permission was the only thing he needed. Instantly closing the gap between you, as his lips brushed over yours. Gentle and soft, and still you could feel how he held back. The hand on the back of your head pulling you closer. Your hands found his neck as your melted into his touch. You broke away for a second looking into his eyes once more. They were blown with lust and endearment. No way you could retreat anymore.

“Johnny…” Your voice was soft as you pulled him back. You slowly leaned down on the couch and he immediately followed you, hovering just above you. “I am not a person for a one-night stand.” Your voice cracked a bit, but the smile on the Scots face reassured you instantly.

“Who said I’d leave ye.” He connected your lips once more. More eagerly, more lust filled, and you followed his lead. Taking a tight grip onto his neck. If you thought he was hard in the drunken state a few months ago, you were wrong. Nothing compared to the need he felt right now, growing every second as his kisses grew sloppier. Openmouthed wandering down to your neck. A moan left your throat as his teeth gently sank into the soft flesh of your neck. You could feel how everything in you screamed to take him. To feel him.

He leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect shaped body. A body you had seen so many times before during his appointments, but now everything felt different. He played with the hem of your shirt before he helped you strip out of it. “Like a goddess,” he praised while his calloused hands roamed down your body. Followed by passionate kisses and gently nibbles down to the waistband of your pants. “Let me taste ye hen,” he plead while toying with the hem of your pants.

“Go on, love.” Your voice was filled with so much adoration, it sent electric jolts through his body. He started to fidget with your trousers to free you. Just as your pants landed on the floor, you could feel the cold breeze brushing against the hot spot between your legs. His finger carefully brushing over it. Your panties already soaked, what made him groan with anticipation.

“’st tell me when something feels wrong,” he said soft before pushing the black lace aside to let his mouth take care of your cunt. As soon as he let his tongue slid through your folds you already arched your back. Another groan was heard as his hand took grip of your hips. He ate like a man starved, while you cried out his name. Johnny had to pull himself together not to cum right there as he tasted you. Everything in him screamed to let go. He couldn’t wait any longer. Not when you were so pretty spread only for him. He stood up, liking over his lips as you looked at him. Your chest heaving. “Cannae wait any longer. ‘m sorry, pet.” He unbuckled his belt and discarded his trousers, followed by his briefs. It made his hardened member jump against his stomach. You parted your lips at the sight. He was an average man, but still shaped like an image out of your wildest dreams. He climbed back on the couch to hover over you. Leaning on one arm, the free one was between your bodies. His hand guiding his cock along your folds. Your hand found his back as your eyes locked again.

“The impatient man you are, John MacTavish.” Your smile enlightened the passion within him even more, as he let the tip slid through your entry. Teasing you with a mischievous smile. Your nails digging into his back as your breath got caught in your throat. “Johnny…” You whined into his mouth while he kept it occupied with his heated kisses.

“Who’s the one impatient now, mo ghraidh?” His smug grin only grew as his lips caught yours in another kiss as he pushed himself inside. You cried out while he gave you some time to adjust. He ditched everything, the prep, the foreplay, he needed you right now and for the loving woman you’re, you couldn’t even try to protest, as it already made you feel that good. You wanted to be good for him, and only him.

“Takin’ me so good,” he praised while pushing deeper in. Feeling your plushy walls around his length already sent him into an abyss. It took him a bit longer to fully button out, letting you adjust to his seize. Showering you with more praise and kisses. As your body started to relax more he started to move. Rolling his hips against yours, letting him slip out and in again. “Hells bells…,” he cried out as he thrusted into your tight hole. His hands holding you tight against him. His forehead pressed to your temple.

Both of you knew you wouldn’t last long. The longing, the desire that grew over the time so huge that it became unbearable anymore. But he promised you that it wouldn’t be just a casual fling. He promised to stay. All the pent-up emotions leading you to the edge so soon. “I’m so close.” He didn’t slow down at your words. Rather pushing his pace up as he felt your walls pulsating.

“I ken.” He kissed your forehead, as your nails dig deeper into the skin of his back. “’st let go, for me.” He assured you while he pulled himself together. Your hands forcing him impossible closer to you as you felt your walls clenching around him as he rocked against that spongy spot inside you. You nodded fast as you buried your head into the crook of his neck, while he pushed his body weight onto you. Kissing your temple as he went deeper and slower. Rolling his hips to keep pushing at that same spot.

The heat building up as it felt unbearable anymore. He pushed you over the edge and you could feel how his length started to twitch inside. You only nodded before he could even ask, while your head stayed pressed against his shoulder. Your orgasm washing over you so hard, that tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. Completely clouding your mind. Somehow, you had to compensate the overwhelming sensation, so your teeth found his neck and you bit in his flesh as he painted your walls white. A deep groan leaving his throat as he rode out his high. You only loosened your jaw as your tongue could sense the taste of iron. You fell back as he collapsed on top of you. He placed another kiss onto your temple. “Dae so good for me, mo ghraidh,” he cooed while your hands clung to his back.

“Will you stay?” your voice was low, brushing over his skin. Somehow scared that this wasn’t real. That his promise wasn’t real. That he wasn’t serious. Even if you knew deep down that those eyes couldn’t lie. And even if they did, you were too addicted of him, you would just accept it that way.

“Inside ye?” The smug grin that reached his eyes was finally back on his lips as he propped himself up a bit. You punched him playfully.

“No, you idiot. In general.” You looked into his now softened eyes. He placed another kiss onto your lips. He slowly pulled out and gently stroked some damp hair from your forehead away. He didn’t need to answer that. Actions were louder than words. He made sure you took a relaxing bath together and afterwards just cuddled up in your bed.

“I’m nae goin’ anywhere.” He kissed your temple while pulling you in his chest. Spooning you and you just curled yourself up, clinging to the strong arm around you. Already on the way to drift away with him being all around you. You couldn’t even wish him sweet dreams anymore.

The next morning felt unreal. As you woke up you found the side next to you already empty. A sigh left your throat as you walked into the living room. After your actions of last night, you slept in nothing more than a fresh pair of panties and his shirt. You stopped in front of the mirror in the hallway to your living room. It looked hilarious how big his shirt was on you. A smile crept on your face as you noticed a low humming.

“Mornin’ bonnie.” Johnny came out of the bathroom, instantly pulling you close to him again. He only wore his briefs. A sight you never wanted to miss anymore. His tattoos by now perfectly healed.

Suddenly something different caught your interest. “I am sorry.” Your eyes wandered to the mark you left on his neck. It was slightly bruised, and you could clearly see an imprint of your teeth. Johnny looked at you and then at himself in the mirror. Examining the spot on his neck and a smile crept on his lips.

“Dinnea need to.” He turned to you, pulling you close to him once more. “Tattoo it.” His words rolled so easily over his lips. You blinked at him in confusion. “’m nae jokin’.”

“Johnny… that’s…a confession…quite possessive”. You tried to find the right words which was hard. You didn’t even know what you actually were, and he wanted you to tattoo your bite mark onto him. Maybe it was like a kink to him? Maybe he was just that cocky. But he didn’t give you space to let your mind wander any more.

“That’s the whole fuckin’ point.” He placed a kiss onto your forehead. “I want the whole world to see who I belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words. It was his way to show you, that this indeed wasn’t just a one-night stand. A love drunken smile crept on your face.

“You’ll regret it sooner or later.” You stated while your fingers brushed over the mark.

“But what if…” He placed a kiss onto your head. “…what if I dinnea.” He smiled at you, watching how your eyes scanned the spot.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am yer eejit.” He corrected you without hesitation. “If ye let me though.”

You pushed your face into his chest, and he wrapped his beefy arms around you. “Let’s get some breakfast first.” Your voice nothing more than a mumble against his chest, which vibrated due to his laugh, nodding before following you into the kitchen.

Did Johnny spend his whole time on leave at your place in London? Eventually. Just as he got a text from his Captain he left with a sad look in his face, but he promised to return safe. He now had a reason to return. Was the time on operations harder? Not really. You worried as much as before, but now you were officially allowed to text him or Simon to look after each other. Did he get teased by Gaz for the new tattoo found at his neck more than the tramp stamp? Equally Simon would say. But Johnny didn’t mind because both held a unique and deep meaning in his heart. Just like his love for his home country shown through the boar on his upper arm, with what he also had the connection to his family on him. Just like the tattoo symbolizing his teammates, his second family, just above the spot where his heart pumped in his chest. And for every man that would mock him for the tamp stramp he’d flash them in the gym, he only smiled wide, giving them a wink. Knowing that this tattoo marked the start of one of the best things happening in his life. An evening with two of the most important people to him. An evening that he’d forever cherish.

At this point John MacTavish was sure that he was done with getting tattoos. He had the things that were most important to him now immortalized onto his skin. But sometimes this man was in the very wrong. Because about two years later, he found himself once more surrounded by the buzzing of a tattoo gun. Two years that were spent in the fields with his team to make the world a better place. Just to return into your arms at the end of the day. In those two years he never regretted any line you placed onto his body. And he never would regret the fifths tattoo he was just about to get. It was different than the times before.

He was surrounded by his teammates, and your closest friends. Really just the closest of the inner circle. Keeping it as discreet as possible. The big day with everyone would be postponed to another date. But as always, Johnny wasn’t a patient man, so he wanted to have something beforehand. Something just for both of you before he had to go save the world again. That way he wore a casual decent but still traditional fit. The red and blue of his family’s tartan painted his kilt. The same tartan the scarf had you wore around your shoulders. A decent dress below, as you let the needles sink into his skin once more. His hand in yours as you tattooed a simple line around his ring finger. A similar one you already had on your hand. The first and only tattoo the Scot would ever give someone was now around your finger.

Just as you finished you kissed once more, while smiling at each other like the love drunken birds you were, as everyone around you clapped and cheered at you. Your studio filled with so much love and joy like never before. A moment you will always look back to in awe.

“I told ye, MacTavish would suit ye.” He teased while holding you close. His words nearly drowning between the noises of your friends and family.

You punched him playfully against his chest. “I love you too, eejit.”

“Don’t they have to say like I do or anything like that,” Kyle mumbled over to Simon, who just shrugged but smiled at the couple, now husband and wife, in front of him.

Even if you were glad that all the important ones were here around you, in the end only on person mattered to you. And that was the man holding you close in his embrace as he leaned his forehead against yours like he did millions of times before. Every night wondering if he’s alright. Every day waiting for his return. Every nightmare you endured. Everything was so worthy, just to have him close next to you and see him smile down at you. And everything started with a tattoo he never even wanted in the first place. A tattoo that led to four more. A tattoo that gave him a life with you by his side, because from the moment he met you, you went under his skin and there was no way he could ever escape it. Not that he even wanted to.

taglist: @cooliofango @ghostslillady @bunnyreaper @anothersimpsblog @kitkatscabinet @starry-eyedblog @yawnderu

#johnny soap mctavish x reader #cod x reader #soap x reader #soap smut #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty fluff #soap fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish

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cieloclercs · 8 months

Text

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 4/? (read part 3 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. pure angst lmao, charles is an idiot with a capital I, swearing, basically everyone hates charles, the leclercs (minus charles) and joris being iconic + your unnamed bestie, i used pictures from france 2022 so sorry about that 🫠

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. alex is in one of the pictures as a face claim for a different character but absolutely no hate is intended to her at all !! sorry for the angst in this one 😭 but i promise it won’t stay like that for much longer! <33

liked by yourfriend and 27,836 others

y/nsart experimenting with new textures and media! super happy with the outcome 🖤

view all comments…

yourfriend incredible 😍

*y/nsart liked this comment

username oh fuck.

username now i really want to know what charles did

username so i’m not the only one getting REALLY sad vibes off these paintings??

username nope 😃

username will any of these be going for sale? 👀

y/nsart i don’t think so unfortunately! i’m just painting for me at the moment :)

username @charles_leclerc what the fuck did you do?

username what happened to y/n’s light tones and summer landscapes? ☹️

username charles happened apparently

username pascale normally comments on y/n’s art posts…is this confirmation? 🥲

username babes you’re reaching

username or at least i hope you are

username the charles thing aside, these are so beautiful!

username no charles like either 😭😭

username it’s the beginning of the end girls :’(

arthur_leclerc amazing as always 🖤

*y/nsart liked this comment

username at least arthur’s still here !!

username wrong leclerc. no offence arthur

arthur_leclerc none taken, i fully agree 😃

username WHAT

username ok so we’ve got no pascale or charles…but there’s still some leclerc presence 🤔

username i’ll be honest i’ve got no idea what’s going on

username same bestie !!

username i mean it’s got to be all connected. charles’ dnf in zandvoort and how sad he looked all weekend (he didn’t even post after!!) and now this?? something weird is going on

username i just want charlesy/n back 🥲

liked by formulaupdates and 9,736 others

f1wags Charles Leclerc arrived in the Monza paddock today with Italian model Bianca Santoro. Sources suggest they looked pretty cosy 👀

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username it’s over for us charlesy/n nation 🥲

username i’m literally sobbing

username YOU’RE JOKING

username this can’t be happening.

username it’s only been three weeks and he’s already forgotten about y/n??

username you say that like they ever actually dated 🙄

username no they didn’t, but they’ve been best friends since they were literal toddlers! that’s not something you just get over in a few weeks imo

username my heart is breaking wtf

username @charles_leclerc WHAT ABOUT Y/N???

username oh my god for the last time, THEY NEVER DATED !! 🙄🙄

username i seriously believed charles was in love with y/n 💔💔

username why does this feel like a betrayal 😭

username i feel so bad for y/n 🥲

username yikes

username guys this girl might actually be nice! don’t be so quick to judge just because you all want charles and y/n together 😁

username we never said she isn’t.

username but they were my endgame 😭😭

username the only positive out of this is that we’re about to be fed with the most beautiful, haunting, gut-wrenchingly tragic paintings OF ALL TIME

username y/n’s rep era (painter edition) loading…

liked by leclerc_pascale and 104,357 others

y/nsart the heart was made to be broken

view all comments…

username oh.

username not the oscar wilde quote 💔

username i was not mentally prepared for this

username i don’t think any of us were babe 🥲

username i’m never going to forgive charles for this

username why am i feeling this so deeply 😭

leclerc_pascale ❤️

username i can just imagine what pascale’s going to say to charles after this lmao

username she’s gonna tear him apart 😭

arthur_leclerc stop this now i will cry.

username arthur 😭😭

username phahah he’s one of us

username @arthur_leclerc same bestie

username as sad as this is i wish i had an outlet for my emotions like this…i feel like it would be so liberating

*y/nsart liked this comment

username this is exactly what heartbreak feels like. i’m not ok.

username charles is now enemy number 1 after making my girl y/n feel like this

username i was going to say i hope he dnfs but he’s already cursed enough it’ll probably happen anyway

username HAHAHA SO TRUE 😭

username someone said y/n’s rep era would be the only positive out of the charles-bianca thing BUT THIS IS PAINFUL. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I WANT HAPPY Y/N BACK.

username oh god the first and last slides 💔💔💔

username she’s not even denying it anymore…

username i’m going to pray every day from now that charles comes to his senses and tells her how he feels 🙏🙏

username can i join you

username and me

username our delusional asses need to stick together rn 😔🙏

username on a slightly less sad note THE AMOUNT OF LIKES THIS HAS GOT OMG.

username as it should! y/n’s talent needs to be more widely recognised 😌

username @charles_leclerc you’re breaking all our hearts here

liked by f1wags and 15,736 others

formula1updates Charles Leclerc after his DNF in Monza 💔

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username karma.

username honestly it serves him right

username we manifesting it guys !!

username i want to be sad because that’s his championship hopes completely out of the window but he genuinely deserves it after the way he’s treated y/n…

username you mess with y/n you mess WITH GOD BITCH

username lmao it’s so funny that he brings his little girlfriend with him and then crashes out 3 laps in 😭

username he KNOWS he deserves it as well

comments on this post have been limited.

yourfriend

yourusername toujours mon amour 🩷 arthur_leclerc take care of her please ↳ yourfriend what do you think i’m doing? 🙄 joris_trouche can’t believe i wasn’t invited 😔 ↳ yourfriend do you understand the meaning of a ‘girl’s trip’? charles_leclerc please can you ask her to answer my texts? ↳ yourfriend why should i? you’ve already hurt her enough.

three weeks later…

liked by charles_leclerc and 26,836 others

tagged: yourfriend

yourusername healing 🌊🤍🌙

view all comments…

yourfriend la plus belle fille 💕/ the most beautiful girl

yourusername je t’aime <3

leclerc_pascale Reviens vite à la maison, mon ange 🤍 / come home soon, angel

yourusername tu me manques, maman 🥹

username the strongest person i know 🩵

*yourusername liked this comment

arthur_leclerc i never thought i’d say these words but i miss you ☹️

yourusername awww arth 🥹🥹 i miss you too x

joris_trouche still sad i wasn’t invited on the girl’s trip :’((

yourfriend tais toi, stupide 🙄 / shut up, stupid

yourusername 😭😭

joris_trouche rude 🙁

username guys are we all seeing the same thing right now or am i hallucinating 😳

username charles liked??

username OMG IM NOT HALLUCINATING

username CODE RED 🚨🚨🚨‼️‼️‼️ CHARLES LIKED EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username not charles trying to crawl his way back bitch please 😭

username @/yourusername tell him to go fuck himself x

username HAHSHAH STOP

username nah i’m calling it he’s definitely been lurking around her and y/f/n’s stories for weeks trying to figure out how to win her back 🤞🤞🤞

username girl you’re delulu if you think y/n’s gonna take him back that easily 🙄

username y’all just ignoring the fact that he still has a whole ass girlfriend 😭😭

username let me be delulu in peace please and thanks. 😐

username this is the mediterranean girl summer i want 😍

username how to be y/n y/l/n

username babe this isn’t google

username this bianca girl has NOTHING on y/n

username fr she’s literally a goddess 😫

username if charles doesn’t want her i’ll gladly take her 🤭

username two pretty best friends 🤩

username the growth 🤍 @/yourusername i’m manifesting love and happiness for you girl !! no one deserves it more 😘

yourusername thank you my love 🥹🥹

username charles get tf out of here 😂

username lmaooo he’s ruining the hot girl summer vibe

➜ part 5

tagged: @incoherenciass

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mazeinthemiroh · 10 months

Note

Hii hii,

First hand i am already gonna apologize if what i am about to request makes you uncomfortable, so feel free to delete this.

How do you think skz ot8 will react to 9th member reader showing off their abs to stay at a concert randomly? Like reader really loves flexing their muscles but to see their abs is like the rarest of the rarest thing ever.

I bet the guys who will not be touching the muscles with their hands *cough cough felix* will be touching with their eyes.

Again i apologize if this made you uncomfortable.

Have a great day!!

stray kids when the 9th member shows their abs at a concert

genre: crack, slightly suggestive???

warnings: mentions of body parts/abs, obviously!!

please like and reblog if you enjoy ;D

chan

covers jeongin's eyes

he's surprised but also in a weird way proud?

idk he welcomes you to the chocolate line ig

there goes another member who flaunts their stomach muscles as if their life depends on it

he's glad he isn't the only one showing his abs off ngl.

minho

raises an eyebrow

blinks a tremendous amount of times

*insert confused cat face*

staresssssss

but then just claps and cheers you on because he's supportive like that.

changbin

your hype boy

cheers into the microphone when you show your abs off

which you get shy and embarrassed by.

probably spends the rest of the concert trying to expose them again...

it's for stay though??

hyunjin

our dramatic king is probably fainting at the sight

he's appalled and reacts in the same way an old, victorian woman would act if they saw such a display

gasping, holding his hand over his agape mouth, and contemplating his existence

stays find his reaction hilarious, ofc.

jisung

he's an advocate

basically encourages it

and probably joins in knowing him

stays literally almost die at the sight of the two of you showing off your stunning abdominal areas

double kill.

felix

in awe.

touchy-touchy

i mean it's so hard not for him to just reach out and touch your abs and especially since you don't show them off a lot

so he acts on impulse and does it

stays want to be him so bad, fr

seungmin

grimaces and looks at you in disgust

a full face of judgement

like... he doesn't wanna see that??

probably says 'ew' into his microphone just to make his point oh-so clear

which both the members and stays are very amused by

jeongin

has his eyes covered by chan's hands

pushes his hands away and then instantly regrets it

'the innocence is gooonnneeee'

it's like a horror movie: he doesn't know whether to look away or keep watching lmao

554 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

How do the Harbingers spend Christmas/the holidays with their lover? What do they do with the reader?

Imagine spending Christmas with the Harbingers, set in a modern world. [I also listened to Last Christmas while writing this. Maybe that will enhance your reading.]

Pierro never had time for Christmas before. The holidays always flew by for him, since he was always so busy working. Or more like, he continued to work as there was no reason for him not to. He had no one to spend time with, so why should he take a break? That was until you slid into his life and forcibly stopped him from doing that ever again, literally scolding him for even thinking about not being home for the holidays. Though, he doesn’t really know what to do. I mean, he’s aware of what people do during these times, but do you want to do all of that? How do you celebrate? What you came to realize was that he doesn’t like to do much during the holidays. All he really wants to do is spend time with you. And so, he is content with pretty much anything you choose to do.

Really, Pierro has come to enjoy and appreciate even the very simple things that occur between the two of you, that may seem boring to others. Reading out the complicated instructions on a package or recipe, even stealing his coat in public (which he always tries to hide from the eyes of others due to embarrassment, and also not wanting others to see you.) Reading Christmas novels with you comes to be one of his favorite traditions. It may not be a typical Christmas, but it’s one with you, and that’s all that matters to Pierro.

Capitano is really amazing during the holidays. Why? Because it’s always cold and wintery and he gives the best cuddles during these times. I don’t know why but I can see him unironically liking ugly Christmas sweaters. You originally brought him one as a joke but he actually started to wear it around the house. Most of the time you don’t mind because laying on his chest with it on is very soft and nice. Capitano is also the type to just go along with whatever you say because he rarely ever argues with you, plus he has no idea how to be festive so he just follows your lead. You find this adorable since he’s usually regarded as the captain who everyone follows, but when he’s with you, he’s hovering over your shoulder trying to mimic your movements.

You handle all of the cooking and stuff along those lines. It’s not like Capitano can’t cook, but rather, every time he tries to handle the ingredients, they always get up wrangled or mashed up due to his extreme strength (he apologizes so seriously every time and you have to hold yourself back from dying of laughter.) He feels bad for not helping with anything, so you let him do the mixing and beating parts. (Do not let him crack an egg.) Though, Capitano handles all of the heavy lifting. You two always get a lot of stares in the supermarket, because there’s this tall, hulking man, trailing behind you carrying dozens of items easily, while you’re leading him around. He doesn’t even let you hold a purse or bag. Singlehandedly carries the tree up the stairs as well. Capitano comes to enjoy the holiday more than he thought. He has some stories to tell his troops now.

Dottore on Christmas is… honestly, I don’t know what to write. He is not a festive man at all, does not care about it whatsoever. He will stand there and watch you if you try to put up lights or a tree and laugh when you fail. You will not be able to convert him so I don’t suggest trying. At the very least, you can try to put on a Christmas movie. He will critique it, point out the awful cliches, the overused plot points, the corny romance, and much more. You hear more of him talking than the actual movie, but it’s the time together that matters, right?

Though, if there’s one thing he appreciates, it’s the delicious food. Zandik did not care much for the taste of food before, only viewing it as a form of sustenance, but he can’t deny that your cooking is exquisite. However, he likes to experiment a lot of course, so there have been times he added random ingredients behind your back. You don’t find out until you tasted the final product - it either tastes God-awful or surprisingly good! In general, a frequent pastime for the two of you is making a small batch of a new recipe, and Zandik throwing in whatever he thinks will somehow enhance the flavor. Either way, he is smiling maliciously and eating it since the taste does not matter much to him. Curse that maniac genius meanie. >:(

Columbina enjoys the holidays a normal amount. She really likes shopping for cute clothes for the two of you, getting Christmas drinks, eating sugar cookies and hot chocolate, and all of the other sweet things couples do around this time. Around the holidays she gets especially clingy and cuddly - it’s her way of showing how grateful she is for you. Columbina also loves to steal your sweaters too. She likes to take photos with Christmas filters with you and post them to the group chat - the ones that add Santa hats and beards, or reindeer antlers, or falling snowflakes - you name it. She likes to take photos in general - she is really photogenic, in your opinion. Even when she’s not posing, she manages to look so beautiful especially when it’s snowing.

On Christmas day it is a challenge to get yourself and her out of bed. Columbina literally holds you hostage in her arms, refusing to let your warmth leave her. She would honestly spend the day in bed with you and some snacks while watching movies if you didn’t force her to get out of bed with the promise of gifts and more cuddles later. Overall, Christmas with her is sweet and endearing. She’s always near you, likes to drape yourself over you when you’re opening your gift, and giggles in your ear. Smothers you with kisses by the time the day is up.

Arlecchino on Christmas is surprisingly sweet. You would think that she spends it alone, but in recent years, she had begun to spend the holiday in the orphanage she had opened up not long ago. Arlecchino and you always make sure that kids have delectable dinner on Christmas day. There’s always a really long table with chairs and plates for all of the dozens of kids. (They tend to fight over who gets to sit around Auntie Arlecchino and you, which secretly embarrasses her.) She is also very good at wrapping gifts. Arlecchino became a master of the skill after helping to wrap dozens of gifts for the children at her orphanage. In the days coming to the holidays, you two wrap gifts for the kids after she teaches you how to do it efficiently.

After all the kids are put to bed after an eventful day, she likes to spend some time with you on her lap near the fireplace, maybe some wine too to wind down. Arlecchino has never been a very wordy or gushy person, so it greatly surprises you when she confesses how thankful she is for you, and how she loves you very much for staying with her. (The children will never stop bringing up how they found the two of you asleep together the next day.)

Pulcinella (platonic!) has seen and experienced a variety of Christmases. He knows the dos and don’ts of how to celebrate. He knows which decorations go with each other, what theme to do this year, the kinds of food people would like the most, and more. He shows you every step of his planning, wanting you to carry on the traditions. However, the one thing he won’t teach you is his secret stash of scrumptious recipes that he refuses to give to you until he’s in his grave. You can whine all you want but he is not giving you that mac and cheese recipe.

He does not have any family left besides you so he encourages you to invite your friends over for Christmas. You invite your friend group (the Harbingers) and even though he’s seen them a few times before, he always scrutinizes them carefully to analyze who you’re hanging out with (especially Dottore - heavily on Dottore…) You all have a good time - he usually leaves you alone with your friends as he doesn’t want to intrude on your youth. But after everyone leaves, he likes to watch these old black-and-white Christmas films with you and tell you about how back in his day… *insert lots of stories and his grandpa rambling.*

Scaramouche has never cared for the holidays. He had long been estranged from his mother, having cut contact with her, therefore having no one to be with during the festive times. But Kunikuzushi declared to himself and everyone that he did not care. It didn’t bother him as he saw families shopping for the holidays, or couples getting Christmas-themed drinks together. Hmph, he couldn’t care less. Well, that was until you came into his life, and brought the holiday spirit with you. When you wake up one day, all excited and way too early for his liking, taking a bunch of utensils and cooking stuff out, retrieving oval lights he didn’t even know you had, Kuni questions you in a sleepy stupor - what the hell are you doing? After you recovered from that jaw-dropping statement, you immediately exclaim about the holidays and how you must prepare! There was no time to waste!

But Scara just rolls his eyes and slumps back into bed, confusing you. And that’s when it clicks - your lover has probably never understood the point of holidays like these, which stemmed from his lack of love and familial bonds during his upbringing. He most likely thought this was stupid and a waste of time. So you gently introduce the idea to him. You ask him to help you bake cookies (to which you have to add less sugar since he doesn’t like sweets.) He begrudgingly helps you make a small Christmas dinner, and when you teasingly throw some flour at him, he returns it ten times more. You teach him how to wrap gifts, too.

He ends up admitting that all of the activities were oddly comforting. Scaramouche opts for the more homely and loving aspect of Christmas, not caring much for the gaudy extra decorations or tree or whatever. It takes him a couple of Christmases to truly warm up, but deep down he can’t deny that spending time with you on the holidays is something he secretly looks forward to every year. Perhaps one day his mother could join the two of you. One day, maybe.

Sandrone was not very interested in the holidays either, more because she had better things to do rather than to partake in some silly little celebration. Why would she care about such things when she could be researching? Even as a child she saw it as useless, preferring to lock herself in her room doing far more productive tasks. Well, that changed when you came along, begging her to at least semi-join you in your favorite traditions. For the first time in her life, she finds herself helping you haul a small tree into your shared place and making ornaments out of her spare parts from engineering. Also, Sandrone likes to observe people on Christmas with you. Seeing people flood the stores searching for a last-minute gift, or even slip on snow, she finds it amusing and interesting.

If you’d like she would make her robots hang up the decorations instead so that you could just relax with her (she was getting a bit annoyed at how your presence was always so far away.) After spending the days with you, Sandrone finds the idea of the holidays a bit more appealing now. (She began to dress up her robots in small Christmas outfits that the two of you sewed together, like elves and reindeer. She would die of embarrassment if anyone else saw.)

La Signora gets invited to a lot of Christmas parties and always wears a new dress to each of them. Can’t be seen wearing the same outfit to an event. Though after she met you, she decided to spend less time going to these parties and spend more time with you. How, you ask? She’ll host her own party of course, with her darling lover. Signora dolls you up real good and makes sure you look absolutely stunning. She wants everyone to know that you two belong to each other, to not come near her territory. (The message comes through loud and clear.) Signora is an excellent host, but she never leaves your side for too long. Takes over uncomfortable conversations for you and watches out for any possible weirdos who try to talk to you. She makes a toast to you and praises you which everyone claps to. Even if you don’t like large gatherings, she still manages to make it feel good.

After everything is finished, she likes to spend some alone time with you. It is late in the night, but Christmas is not over yet, she reminds you. Rosalyne seems to be the type to enjoy slow dancing with you, chuckling as you step on her feet sometimes. Watching her sway her hips and twirl you around is simply enchanting. I can see her ending the night by drinking some wine and little snacks, talking until you both fall asleep.

Pantalone loves Christmas because he now had a reasonable excuse to spoil you with gifts without getting reprimanded by you. No, really, he does not hold back. The gifts are piled so high that you can barely see the Christmas tree anymore, the only thing peeking out was the star at the top. Pantalone has a list that he makes in the months coming to December. Every time you show even the slightest bit of interest in something, whether you stare at it for a second or offhandedly mention that it looks cool, it’s getting added to the list. You get items you barely remember seeing yet Pantalone’s laser memory reminds you of the exact moment of when you commented on it while he smiles proudly. You honestly probably have a whole room dedicated to the miscellaneous gifts you get from him.

Also the kind of guy who will always deeply cherish whatever you get him. He especially likes homemade gifts - he finds that idea of you going out of your way to handcraft him something so incredibly sweet. Puts it in his office so he can look at it while he’s working. Of course, Pantalone also likes to take you out to scenic spots for dinner. Shamelessly books the whole restaurant and makes sure you two get the best view, with lots of glazed snow and five-star courses.

Childe adores the holidays, mostly because he genuinely loves spending time with his family. They bring him so much joy, and when the first Christmas with you as his lover rolls around? He’s so eager and excited for you to join the tradition. Yes, he had invited to you spend Christmas with him and his family before, but that was when you two were just friends. Now it’s completely different, Childe insists. And no, there is no possibility of getting out of this. Do you have to work? Too bad, he’s personally going to your boss and politely forcing them to give you your rightfully deserved days off.

Expect to spend a lot of time with his siblings - Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. Decorating the tree? Check. Putting up Christmas lights? Check. Ugly Christmas sweaters? Check. No matter how corny or embarrassing it is, Childe is convincing the whole family to join him. (Though it’s not very hard considering how much his siblings look up to him. They tend to comply easily.) His new, favorite tradition though? Kissing you under the mistletoe. Literally recruits his siblings to randomly place them all over the house, and even in the middle of his conversations with you. Ajax is quite devious and greedy when it comes to you.

Bonus - Poly!Harbingers: Friendsgiving with poly! Harbingers except it's for Christmas (and you all live in the same mansion.) Dottore is banned from bringing anything for obvious reasons and Columbina is too because her cooking is inedible most of the time. Childe is the best cook and makes most of the feast. I think Signora is also a good cook so she helps him too. Pantalone buys everything and Sandrone’s robots makes sure the place is decked out in the prettiest decorations. Arlecchino and Columbina cuddle you with the static of some movie in the background - Columbina is trying to feed you sweets before the feast while Arlecchino is trying to stop her. Dottore tells you about all the miserable people he’s seen so far while he laughs (typical of him.) Scaramouche disses the food despite enjoying it, nearly causing a fight. Pierro is making sure things like that don’t happen and oversees everything. Capitano struggles to do any of these delicate tasks so he kind of just stands there with you and makes sure you aren’t doing anything. Though, he puts you on his shoulders so you can place the star on top of the Christmas tree!

Even if your cooking is the most mediocre thing there, all of them will be eating it up like their last meal. The house gets very loud especially when they start passive-aggressively fighting over whose food you liked the best. They take pictures of you doing everything - by the tree, in the snow, opening gifts, catching you off guard while eating, while you’re drunk - they have a shared album of over a thousand pictures by the end of the night. (They also make sure they all receive kisses from the dozens of hidden mistletoes around the house.) It is a very good and chaotic Christmas indeed.

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bloomeng · 2 months

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something i wanted addressed— like just one scene— was how ed felt about izzy’s growth in s2. we get a few smiles here and there but that’s sort of it. or even something out of stede. like izzy’s change was so dramatic and i feel like there was subtext in the way gb interacted with him but his shift is never addressed. it’s like stede and ed stopped interacting with any of the crew outside of each other. even at calypso’s party they felt so separated from the crew even before they went off to fuck.

i miss when they actually felt like a part of the crew. i loved ed’s moments with fang in s2, but other than that there was just this sort of detachment. do they not even feel sad about saying goodbye to the revenge?? where did the found family aspect go???

going back to izzy i felt like we got moments of izzy making up for his comments towards ed in s1, but it was always this acknowledgment of the positive ways in which ed had changed. we never got a focused scene of the opposite, of ed fully acknowledging izzy’s new found openness.

i personally was so curious about what ed and stede were thinking when they saw him at calypso’s party. ik izzy’s technically a side character, but they put so much emphasis on his relationship with ed this season. the man literally confessed his love to him twice. can i at least get a scene of ed addressing this even if it’s not to izzy’s face??

not to mention the smiles stede and ed kept throwing him throughout the season. i’m not suggesting that they were canonly romantic but they looked so fond of him. which i love ofc but i felt like it wasn’t earned. as an audience member i felt like i missed something. suddenly izzy is putting his hand on stede’s thigh casually and ed is smiling softly at him and i want to know what clicked.

mostly i think i just wanted there to be a small moment during the party where ed speaks directly to izzy and just implies that he’s happy for him. that would have been closure on their arc for me. but as it stands i feel like they ended on izzy only ever being the one to acknowledge ed’s feelings.

OMG I JUST REMEMBERED TOO BC AFTER THE PARTY WE GET THE “HE’S JUST JEALOUS” LINE GUHHHH EDWARD TEACH WHAT DID U MEAN?!?

like fuck off, izzy keeps telling you how happy he is for you and all you do in return is joke about izzy’s feelings for you after rejecting him and that’s not even mentioning the… everything else he’s done to izzy.

ik it wasn’t their intention at all but the writing makes it feel like ed doesn’t want izzy to let go of him but he also doesn’t want to be there for him in any significant manner. which is very human and selfish and interesting, but also not what i think they were going for… cause it makes ed look bad even after he’s supposedly grown.

if izzy and ed were going to be painted as ex’s i just think it’s unfair that we never get to see how ed explicitly feels about izzy moving on and that izzy was denied proper closure to their “break up.”

and don’t get me started about how even izzy’s death was about ed in the end.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #edizzy #ofmd s2 #sorry i’m rambling #or ig ranting is more accurate #our flag means death

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Falling For the Devil [Part three: "The Time Daredevil Saved You"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're out for a few drinks with your friends at Josie's. On your walk home you're ambushed by a few men because of a story you've been digging into. Daredevil shows up to save you.

You discover Daredevil's identity in minutes because you've spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at Matt Murdock's mouth over the past year. And you also manage to bring penis-shaped whistles into the conversation.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: Sharing part three of FFTD on tumblr! Trying to see how many I can get up today (there are a total of 74 parts currently on AO3). Find the full list of installments available on tumblr here or in my Masterlist!

“Next time why don’t we find a different bar to drink at?” Marci suggested, eyeing the bottom of her drained glass with a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

“Blasphemy!” Foggy bellowed, playfully slamming a fist onto the table.

You and Karen giggled from your seats across the table from the couple as Marci shot Foggy an exaggerated eye roll. She often managed to bring up visiting a different bar almost every other time you had all met up at Josie’s. But this place had become a weekly spot for the five of you to often gather and blow off steam from your week at work.

Except tonight Matt was unavailable, which had been happening more frequently. Foggy only ever used the excuse that Matt was busy, but you could read between the lines. Matt was most likely on a date with someone stunning and probably just as outspoken as him and vastly more confident than you would ever be. Someone who didn’t fall apart and clam up when he gave them one measly little compliment.

“Well you do realize there are other bars where you don’t have to order your drinks neat because, gasp ,” Marci said, exaggerating a dramatic expression for a moment, “the water lines aren’t filled with questionable bacteria and mold.”

“But Josie’s is where this all began ,” Foggy shot back, his tone impassioned like he usually got on a long-winded spiel. “Where Nelson and Murdock started. I mean, you and I might not be engaged if we hadn’t started this firm because we wouldn’t have worked that Tully case against you.” His focus shifted to Karen as he waved a hand at her. “And then Matt and I wouldn’t have met Karen and taken her under our wing, molding her to be the badass lawyer she is now.” Karen rolled her eyes with a smile before taking a drink from her beer as Foggy shifted to you, saying your name and continuing. “She wouldn’t be here either if Nelson, Murdock, and Page hadn’t been celebrating a win that Monday evening a year ago! And Matt wouldn’t have introduced us to yet another integral member of our friend group!”

You sent him a tight smile, happy to be considered an integral member of the friend group, but upset at being reminded that you were only Matt’s friend. And then in turn you were reminded that he was probably out fucking some gorgeous woman senseless this evening. With an internal groan you took another pull of your beer. You desperately wished to be that woman he was fucking senseless.

“So when are we planning the bachelorette for party again?” Karen asked, her attention on Marci now.

Marci absently toyed with the beautiful engagement ring on her finger, a dreamy smile on her face as the diamond sparkled in the dim light of Josie’s bar. “In two months, and you bitches better be there.”

“We’re your bridesmaids,” you reminded her. “It’s like, literally our duty to be at the bachelorette party that we’re planning.”

“With phallic shaped objects,” Karen added.

Marci giggled as Foggy only rolled his eyes, clearly wishing Matt was here so he could tune out this conversation.

“I can’t believe you found dick-shaped lipstick,” Marci said.

“You can find almost anything in the shape of a dick,” you deadpanned.

“Confetti,” Karen threw out.

“Penis-shaped gummies,” you added.

“Straws.”

“Temporary tattoos,” you listed.

“Balloons.”

“Whistles, which we actually did get,” you told Marci.

“Crowns,” Karen continued.

“Sashes,” you told her. Marci opened her mouth and you quickly cut her off. “And yes, yours has a dick on it.”

Foggy held up a hand, shaking his head and interrupting the conversation. “Okay, can we save the penis talk for when I’m not here?” he asked.

Marci pouted at him while Karen laughed at his discomfort, taking another drink. You shot Foggy an exaggerated sympathetic look.

“Feeling left out?” you asked. “Want me to get you some tit-shaped objects for your party?”

Foggy chuckled, shaking his head. “No, and don’t give Matt that idea.”

“Oh, I’m definitely giving Matt that idea now,” you teased back, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You're getting a boobie beach ball, Fog."

You’d ended up spending the next couple of hours at Josie’s with Foggy, Marci, and Karen. The night had taken a turn more towards wedding planning since Matt was not around to help bring up anything else. Foggy had looked bored out of his mind, staring at his beer when he wasn’t checking his watch for the time.

Eventually it had gotten late enough that you figured you’d need to head home. You were looking forward to that bit of pizza you had left in your fridge and to being able to sleep in tomorrow morning, so you’d said your goodbyes and headed out of Josie’s, choosing to walk the couple of blocks like you usually did. Though, Matt usually offered to walk you back home when he was out with you all since he didn’t live too far from you.

Unfortunately tonight you would be walking alone.

The night was a little chilly and you tugged your cardigan tighter around yourself, hugging your arms over your body as you made the journey back to your apartment. It was a walk that had become incredibly familiar over the last year. You’d spent almost every Friday night after meeting Matt at Josie’s throwing back at least one beer with the group before heading home. And you’d liked that your life had changed that way.

But you hated that you still thought about Matt as more than a friend. Hated that deep down you were still hoping and waiting for that phone call of him finally asking you on a date. It didn’t help that Karen and Marci shot you sympathetic looks every time someone flirted with him or gave him their number. It had happened so much this past year that you thought Foggy was even starting to notice at this point.

“Hey!” someone called out.

Your heart rate quickened, your eyes darting to where the voice had come from. There were two men standing in the nearby alley looking directly at you. And then you heard one of them call out your name and you felt fear flood your veins like ice. And then you bolted.

You were running down the sidewalk, trying to escape the two men now chasing you, but after the few beers you’d just had and the fact that you weren’t the most athletic person, you weren’t very fast or very graceful. And as you neared the corner of the street, a third man appeared and you realized they were intentionally trying to trap you. The only place to run was down the alley to your right, which clearly was a deadend. When you glanced to your left, you saw one of the men behind you making his way into the street, blocking your path in that direction now, too. You were cornered.

“Figueroa doesn’t like that you’ve been digging into him,” one of the men called out.

You winced, recognizing the name immediately. It was the story Ellison warned you not to chase a year ago. One you’d still been trying to unravel, slowly picking away at.

“He sent us to teach you a lesson,” the man from behind said.

You spun, turning and walking backwards until your back hit the building behind you. And then you were really trapped as all three men advanced on you, your heart pounding thunderously in your chest.

“Nowhere to go now,” the first man taunted.

A figure to your left stepped out of the alley just beside you and you flinched back instinctively, assuming it was another man here to hurt you. But instead he stepped in front of you, putting himself between you and the three men. And that’s when you realized it was Daredevil, complete with his red suit and horned helmet. Your eyes widened in shock; in all your time here in Hell’s Kitchen you’d never seen him before.

“And I’m about to send Figueroa a message,” Daredevil growled back. “He doesn’t touch the journalist.”

He flew forward, simultaneously attacking the three men in a barrage of fists and kicks and impressive flips. Blood was spraying through the air in conjunction with the sound of bones breaking and men screaming. Daredevil was brutal in his attack and your wide eyes were glued in shock to the way he moved so gracefully despite the violence he was perpetrating.

Nearly as quick as he’d appeared, the fight was over. The three men were unconscious on the sidewalk and Daredevil’s chest was heaving as he took a moment to recover from the fight. And then he turned, focusing on you.

“You should drop that story you’re working on for now,” he told you, his voice sounding oddly familiar. “It’s not safe for you to investigate this anymore.”

Your heart was still loudly pounding in your ears as your eyes left the sight of the unconscious men and focused on the infamous vigilante. Your eyes were scanning him over, your gaze lingering at his mouth and his jaw. They looked so very familiar…

“How do you know I’m a journalist?” you breathed out, eyes studying his face.

His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking in his cheeks. “I recognized the name they called out,” he answered quickly. “You work at The Bulletin.”

“How do you know I’m working on a story about Figueroa?” you asked him next.

He swallowed hard, head canting to the side as he studied you. And that’s when it hit you–you’d spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at that mouth, memorizing the exact shape of his plump lips because you’d so often imagined kissing them. And that jawline with that dark stubble–you’d often fought the urge to drag your fingers along it many a drunk night at Josie’s. His voice was slightly off as if he was intentionally pitching it lower, but the frame and build of his body was the same. You’d studied Matt far too closely this past year not to recognize the same way Matt canted his head to the side, too.

Your heart was racing even faster in your chest now and you saw Daredevil’s lips thin into a straight, disapproving line.

“Matt?” you asked hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper.

He blew out a sharp, surprised exhale from his mouth. “How did you–?”

Your eyes widened as you stared back at him, Daredevil’s voice shifting back to one that was so very obviously Matt’s. “Holy fucking hell–are you serious right now?”

“Your apartment,” he said firmly. “Not here.”

You stared at him in shock for a long moment, mouth gaping like a damn fish as he stood in your living room, red helmet in one hand. He’d climbed in through your fire escape shortly after you’d gotten into your apartment. Your brain was still taking a moment to process everything that had just happened.

Matt was Daredevil.

“So wait,” you began, a hand to your forehead as you tried to understand, “while we were at Josie’s discussing penis whistles just a bit ago, you were out running around as Daredevil ?”

Matt’s head tilted to the side, his dark brows creasing together as he blinked hard a few times back at you. He shook his head a moment later, his sightless gaze landing at your chest as a look of confusion and disbelief washed over his features. “You find out I’m Daredevil and yet somehow you still manage to bring up…penis whistles in the same sentence?” he asked, the corner of his lips beginning to tug upwards.

“Well I mean,” you began, mind still reeling, “poor Foggy was left to listen to bachelorette party discussions because you were out doing all of that.” You waved a hand in his general direction for emphasis. “Which, by the way, he definitely needs tit-shaped decorations for the bachelor party. I'm buying him a boob shaped beach ball." You tilted your head to the side for a moment, vaguely aware of Matt lightly laughing as you added, "Come to think of it I think there's a sash that even says 'one clit that's it' and I think he needs that, too. You can tell him I said ‘you’re welcome’ for them. He’ll get it.”

Matt was smiling now, shaking his head yet again and chuckling to himself as he stared back at you in something akin to amused awe. “You’re…you’re telling me to buy Foggy tit-shaped decorations for his bachelor party about fifteen minutes after discovering this huge secret about me?”

“Well, you’re already attractive and successful, why not be a fucking superhero ninja, too?” you blurted.

Matt burst into a laugh, a hand running through his disheveled brown hair. You groaned and collapsed onto your couch, throwing your face in your hands.

“I’ve reached the point of the evening with drinking where that filter between my brain and mouth,” you grumbled, voice muffled behind your hands, “has entirely disintegrated and that was not meant to be said aloud. I’m also going to blame that on shock from nearly being murdered a bit ago.” Your head darted up from your hands as you looked back up at Matt, who was gazing uncharacteristically fondly down at you with a soft expression on his face. You tried to ignore the way it made your heart flutter in your chest. “Which, thanks for the last minute save, by the way," you continued. "Don’t think I’d manage to take them out with second-hand embarrassment alone.”

“This is by far the most interesting way someone has discovered my secret,” he said, still very amused as he came to sit beside you on the couch.

“Wait, who the hell else knows?” you asked in shock.

“Karen and Foggy,” Matt answered. “They uh, didn’t take it quite as well as you seem to be taking it.”

"It's not like I really know much about all of this to form an opinion," you admitted. "It's shocking but also…" you shrugged a shoulder. "You could be doing worse things I suppose."

"Worse things?" he asked, brows raised. "What would you deem more upsetting than finding out I'm a vigilante?"

"I don't know," you shot back, your brain grasping for examples. "Selling drugs to children? Illegal sex trafficking? Eating dog meat?"

"Okay, well one of those is very clearly not on the same level as the others," Matt pointed out.

"You asked what I deemed worse than being a vigilante," you countered.

He laughed, his body shaking you on the couch along with him at the movement. His eyes creased at the corners as he turned his full attention on you. "And that's what you came up with?" he asked. “Eating dog meat?”

"You put me on the spot!" you shot back.

His laugh died out after a moment and then his expression turned serious. His sightless eyes studied you before he asked, "How'd you know it was me so easily?"

You swallowed hard, hands fidgeting with the stitching in your cardigan. "Not many people know about the story I've been working on. And I…recognized your, uh, mouth."

You could feel his gaze boring a hole in the side of your face and you refused to look at him. Your cheeks were aflame after that admission.

"You recognized my mouth?" he asked in surprise.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, your gaze still intentionally avoiding his. "I plead the fifth," you muttered. You heard him open his mouth, about to speak, but then you quickly cut him off. "Are you hungry?" you blurted, finally looking at him and taking in his confused expression. "Because I had every intention of coming back home and reheating some leftover pizza. You want some?"

"I–yeah," he answered slowly, brows creased together as if he was trying to keep up with what was going on. "Uh, yeah, sure."

You rose from the couch, heading to the kitchen and pulling the pizza box from the fridge. Matt was leaning against your kitchen table, watching you with a bemused look on his face as you closed the fridge door.

"I was going to toss it in the oven to heat it up," you told him. "Better than the microwave. Unless you have some sort of pizza-heating super power I am also unaware of?"

Another smile broke across his face, the lone dimple in his right cheek appearing. You always loved that dimple, it only ever showed up when he was really smiling.

"No, no pizza heating abilities," he answered softly.

"Bummer," you commented, heading to the oven and setting the temperature. You turned back towards him, resting your back along the kitchen counter as you eyed him. "So what can you do? Do you have laser eyes? Can you lift cars? Read minds?" Your eyes immediately widened at that thought. "Please tell me you don't read minds," you added quickly.

"No," he said, still smiling as he shook his head. "I don't read minds. Or have laser eyes or lift cars. I do have heightened senses though."

One of your brows rose curiously. "What's that mean?" you questioned.

"Means I can smell exactly what beer you had at Josie’s tonight," he told you, "and that you had four of them. I can also tell you had lunch at that sushi place you like." Your jaw dropped as he continued. "I can also tell you've been blushing since you said you recognized my mouth a minute ago," he continued, his mouth in question quirking up at the corner in amusement which only made you blush further. "And I can hear your heart racing. I’ve noticed it’s often racing around me."

"I'm a nervous person," you muttered awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest. You did not want to give him the real reason he probably hears your heart racing around him frequently. "Pretty sure you knew that."

You watched as his head tilted to the side, his eyes scanning along your chest as if he was looking for something.

"What're you doing?" you asked curiously.

"I can tell if someone is lying by the sound of their heart," he answered.

One of your brows raised questioningly at him. "And you think I'm lying about being a nervous person?" you asked him suspiciously.

He shook his head, the smile on his face looking almost sad unless you were imagining it. But why would he be sad?

"No," he answered slowly. "Was just checking something. You're uh, a little harder for me to read because of the nerves. Most people's bodies react a little more predictably and it's pretty straightforward for me to understand. You've always been a little more difficult."

You sighed heavily, turning and placing the rest of the pizza from the box on your pizza pan. "Of course I'm weird even to your abilities. Why wouldn't I be?" you mumbled, opening the oven and throwing the pizza in.

Matt snorted in amusement behind you. You turned back to him at the sound, noticing him grinning back at you as you frowned.

"I tell you I hear heartbeats," Matt points out, "and you think you're the weird one?"

"Fair point," you mused. "But at least you can hide your weirdness. Mine is perpetually on display and usually scaring people away."

"Didn't scare me away," he told you gently, his tone softer than usual. “I like your weirdness.”

Matt was staring back at you with that look again. It was that tender and almost affectionate look he'd had on his face a bit ago when he had first shown up and you'd been rambling on about the boob-shaped beach balls and penis whistles and had your heart momentarily skipping in your chest.

Why was he looking at you like that?

You cleared your throat, glancing away. If you kept staring at that look on his face you might start foolishly giving yourself false hope for something more with him. And that would just be painful and stupid.

"So what, I'm supposed to drop the story on Figueroa that I've been working on for a year and let him keep trafficking women?" you questioned Matt.

Matt sighed softly at the change in topic, the sound almost too quiet to notice. And then he pulled out one of your kitchen chairs and sat down running a hand over his face. You watched him from your place against the counter.

"Drop it for now," he told you. "I'm looking into it. When I get the proof I need, you'll be the one I give the information to. You can publish it, expose him for what he's doing. It’ll help get him arrested. In the meantime I’ll just…keep an eye on your place when I’m out. Make sure he’s not sending more guys after you."

"Do you…want the notes I've gotten so far?" you asked him curiously.

"Sure," he answered. "Maybe you have something I haven't found yet."

You pushed off the counter, heading past Matt towards your room and grabbing your laptop. You brought it back to the kitchen table and opened it, turning it on. And then a thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t resist the laugh that came out of your mouth.

"What?" he asked, his sightless gaze warm as he stared at you.

"I feel like your oddball sidekick," you joked.

Another large smile broke across his face as he chuckled. You couldn't help the matching smile that spread across your face in return.

"You'd need a name," Matt teasingly pointed out. “And a costume.”

You snorted in amusement, shaking your head as you pulled up your notes on the laptop. “Pretty sure I’m embarrassing enough on my own without a Halloween costume and another ridiculous name for people to call me,” you answered.

“As I said already,” Matt replied, that fond expression returning to his face as he gazed back at you, resting an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. “I like your weirdness.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock series #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #fftd

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bethanythebogwitch · 1 month

Text

Wet Beast Wednesday: blue whale

It's the one-year anniversary of my Wet Beast Wednesday posts. My first post was on the smallest of all cetaceans, the vaquita. For the anniversary, I'm going to go to the other end of the spectrum and cover the largest of all cetaceans: the mighty blue whale. Join me as we explore the biggest of bois, the largest of lads, and the absolutest of units.

(Image: a blue whale at the surface of the ocean, seen from above. It is long, slender, and grey. The head is the widest point and takes up about a quarter of the body. The blowholes are positioned at the back of the head. Two flippers emerge from the body just behind the head. The tail fluke is very broad and pointed. End ID)

Blaenoptera musculus, the blue whale, is divided into four subspecies based on size and location. These are the northern blue whale (B. m. musculus), the north Indian ocean blue whale (B. m. indica), the antarctic blue whale (B. m. intermedia), and the pygmy blue whale (B. m. brevicauda). The northern and pygmy whales are further subdivided into population stocks based on what part of their range they live in. Blue whales are not only the largest cetaceans, they are the largest known animals to have ever existed. There are animals that can get longer, like the lion's mane jellyfish, but blue whales are the most massive animals. There are some extinct species that could potentially meet or exceed the blue whale in size, including some ichthyosaurs, whales, and sauropods, but all those species are known only from skeleton fragments so we can't get a fully accurate estimate of their size. Size varies depending on subspecies and population stock, but the longest group are the eastern north Pacific population, which can reach an average 24 m (79 ft). The antarctic subspecies is the heaviest, averaging 130 metric tons (290,000 lbs) for females. Females are larger than males. The pygmy subspecies is the smallest, though small is a relative term as they can still average 21.3 m (69.9 ft) and 99 metric tons (218,000 lbs). The longest scientifically measured individual was 30 m (98 ft), though there are unconfirmed reports of longer ones. The heaviest blue whale on record weighed 173 metric tons (381,400 lbs), though there are whales estimated to get up to 199 metric tons (438,720 lbs). Blue whales also have the largest hearts of any animal. One specimen measured in at 180 kg (400 lbs). The heart is about the size of a golf cart and 4 or 5 people could fit inside the chambers without having to squeeze. There's a commonly-quoted factoid that a person could swim through a blue whale's arteries without touching the sides. I wasn't able to find any exact measurements to confirm or refute this. I did find some sources saying that the blood vessels are highly elastic so its possible the factoids are talking about the arteries at their most stretched. Each heartbeat moves 220 liters of blood and the total blood volume is estimated at 5,300 liters. The heartbeat can be heard two miles away. I really just want to impress on you that these animals are fucking massive. A study on hydrodymanics suggested that a blue whale couldn't get longer than 33 meters (108 ft) before its metabolic and energy requirements would exceed the amount of food it could eat. Blue whales are verging on what is theoretically the maximum amount of big a whale can be.

(Image: an illustration comparing the size of a blue whale to other animals and showing their size. The whale is about as long as a line consisting of a polar bear, grizzly bear, human, asian elephant, giraffe, and great white shark. End ID. Source)

Blue whales are baleen whales, meaning that instead of teeth they have thick, keratinous plates called baleen attached to the upper jaw. When feeding, blue whales open their mouths and swim through clouds of krill. The mouth can open to 80 degrees and folds at the bottom let it expand to fit 220,000 liters of water at a time. The whale them closes its mouth and forces water out through the baleen. The baleen acts as a sieve, trapping krill in the mouth to be swallowed. Blue whales target patched of krill with the highest densities as their feeding style requires a minimum of 100 krill per cubic meter to offset the energy cost of feeding. Most mouthfuls provide 8,312 to 475,141 kilocalories of energy, more than enough to offset the cost of feeding. The current estimate for how much krill an adult needs in a day is 1,120 ± 359 kg (2,469 ± 791 lbs) and pregnant females need even more than that. Blue whales will dive in search of food, with the deepest confirmed depth being a pygmy blue whale that reached 506 m (1,660 ft). The deepest known dive from a non-pygmy blue whale was 315 m (1,033 ft). The longest recorded dive was 15.2 minutes and the estimated maximum dive duration is 31.2 minutes. During dives, a blue whale's heartbeat slows to 2 beats per minute, the slowest of any known animal. The elastic aorta seems to take over a lot of the heart's pumping job during this time. Blue whales are streamlined and similar in appearance to the relates sei whales and fin whales. Blue and fin whales are capable of hybridizing and producing fertile offspring. 3.5% of the blue whale genome comes from hybridization with fin whales. While blue whales can produce hybrid offspring with fin whales, the reverse is not true and the gene flow from fin to blue is unidirectional. It appears that all hybrids are the result of a fin father and a blue mother. Interestingly, blue whales do not appear to be capable of hybridizing with the more closely related sei whales. There are unconfirmed reports of blue whale and humpback whale hybrids. And because someone was going to bring it up if I didn't, the blue whale's penis is the largest of any animal at 3 m (9.8 ft) long and 30 cm (12 in) wide and they can release an estimated 17 liters of semen at a time. I know someone out there desperately wanted to know that and to that person I say you're whalecum.

(Image: a blue whale feeding at the surface of the ocean on its side, seen from above. The mouth is open with the troat and lower mouth inflated. It is swimming into a patch of krill, visible as yellowish coloration in the water. End id)

Blue whales can be found worldwide, though they typically prefer colder water and do not enter the Arctic ocean. They are usually solitary or travel in pairs, but can gather in groups up to 50 strong when food is abundant. Many are migratory, feeding in cold water during the summer and moving toward the equator in winter. They can follow complex migratory patterns that have to be memorized. There are multiple different strategies employed by different populations regarding who migrates when and some populations don't migrate at all. Their vocalizations are used for long-distance and short-range communication and scientists have classified multiple different types of sounds produced. Different populations of whales have different patterns of vocalizations which may be akin to languages or dialects. Blue whale sounds are some of the loudest and lowest frequency produced by any animal and most are too low-frequency to be audible to humans. Mating season happens in winter. Males use vocalizations to attract females, who they then court through special noises, blowing bubbles, inflating their mouths, chasing, and slapping the water with their flippers. Males compete with each other for the chance to mate. Once a female chooses a male, they will mate and then separate. Gestation takes 10 to 12 months. Newborn blue whales are the largest babies in the animal kingdom at 6-7 m (20-23 ft) and 2-3 metric tons (4409 to 6614 lbs). Mother produce between 110 and 320 kg (240 - 710 lbs) of milk daily. Claves are weaned between 6 and 8 months once they hit 16 m (53 ft) and have gained about 17,000 kg (37,500 lbs). Females typically mate every 2 to 3 years. Blue whale become sexually mature at 8-10 years old and can live over 90 years, with the oldest on record being 110 years old. Their age can be determined by earwax, which is laid down in rings like trees.

(Image: a mother blue whale (background) and calf (foreground). The baby is already very large and is a lighter grey than the mother. The baby is seen from the sied while the mother is rotates to show her underside. End ID)

All blue whale subspecies are classified as endangered by the IUCN, with the antarctic subspecies being critically endangered. Blue whales were heavily impacted during whaling, with their population dropping to the point of near-extinction. Since the end of whaling, populations have risen to an estimated 10,000 to 25,000 as of the end of 2023. This is still smaller than their pre-whaling population, but they have recovered quite a bit. The current largest threats to blue whales are climate change, collisions with ships, and human created noise. The effects of anthropogenic noise from shipping lanes on aquatic animals is still poorly understood, though it seems to greatly irritate and even harm whales, forcing them to change their migratory routes and avoid shipping lanes. Interestingly, as the population has increased scientists have noted changes in courtship behavior and vocalization tone. It is hypothesizes that the increasing population is resulting in greater competitive pressure between males for the right to mate.

(Image: a blue whale seen from the side. Its head is toward the camera. The lower jaw as larger and thicker than the upper jaw. The animal is streamlined. The eye is just behind the mouth and small. Further back is a paddle-shaped flipper. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #blue whale #whale #whales #cetaceans #cetacean #marine mammals #baleen whale #marine biology #biology #zoology #ecology #animal facts #informative #image described #science #absolute unit #big #anniversary

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cloverstayy · 3 months

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Helloooooo, may I please request Chan’s reaction to reader having another groups tattoo?

I’m a Chan biased but have a Vernon inspired tattoo on my ribs

Thank you so much for this suggestion, Anon! I've got quite a few tattoos myself, (no SKZ ones...yet) one of them being a Fall Out Boy-related tattoo and I think I'd cackle listening to Pete freak out over me having another band's or group's tattoo. So, I kind of took the humorous route with this one and I hope that's okay! I also hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it.

I also apologize for how ridiculously long this got. 😂 I kinda let myself get carried away, but I think those kind of stories are the best anyways!

If you enjoyed this one, please, please reblog! I honestly do a little happy claps when I see anyone reblogging or interacting with my content. All the warm and fuzzies!

STORY RATING E for everyone.

TYPE Slice of life...I think?

CONTENT WARNING Quite literally nothing to note. Use of explicit language, but tons of comedic humor and just a smidge of fluff!

W/C 6,063

“I can only imagine the photos she took of you, JK.” Chan snorted, leaning his head against his fist which was propped up on several pillows.

JK stayed quiet for a moment, shaking his head at Chan before something began to develop across his expression, “Let me get back at her.”

Chan sat up, a bit perplexed at the request JK was propositioning, “What’dya mean?”

Chan and you have been dating for the better part of a year and at this point, there isn’t much he hasn’t seen of you.

More than that, he’s asked about almost every single tattoo you have. Its honestly how you both became acquainted, actually.

He saw your obnoxiously bright dinosaur tattoo from some distance away; making his way over to you and managing to pull one of the smoothest attempts you’d ever seen any man manage to use to get your attention.

He was clearly successful, for transparency’s sake.

You were on vacation in Australia and enjoying your time beachside. Little did you know, Australia was his home country. There you were, minding your own business while waiting in line for a snow cone when Chan couldn’t help himself whatsoever from full bore running and stopping suddenly behind you in linewhen you immediately became aware of the labored panting of someone standing behind you.

Letting curiosity get the better of you, while still trying to play it off as complete disinterest, you turned slightly around to see a man bent almost in half as his eyes were glued on you. But don’t get it twisted, he wasn’t looking you in the eyes, not yet anyways. He was staring at you, his eyes feeling as though they were transfixed on your left arm.

Glancing around, expecting someone to have been chasing him or something…

Why the hell is this man panting so much?

After assessing your surroundings and realizing no one was actually chasing him, that he for some reason was behind you and panting up a storm like a dog after a run, you felt your brows furrow together before deciding to evaluate this seemingly poor man’s condition.

“Um, are you okay?”

It was only then his eyes snapped up to yours fully when he flashed one hell of a rage-inducing smile in your direction, sliding his hands from his knees and up to his hips as he stood up straight.

Who does this man think he is smiling like THAT?!

“Yeah, yeah! I’m great. How are you?”

Sheer confusion must’ve washed over your face as one of your brows pitched upwards, “Are you serious?”

This man couldn’t get anymore attractive to you at this point, you’re sure of it, but all of a sudden you’re pretty sure you witnessed the heaven’s opening up and the sound of angels began to fill your ears.

Okay, thats a bit of an exaggeration. He was…he was giggling. And he was doing it at you.

“I’m quite serious, actually. You getting a snow cone, too?”

“I’m in the line, aren’t I?”

The giggling you still weren’t sure wasn’t the heaven’s choir belting out your new favorite song of the summer, picked up briefly before settling, “You are.”

Shaking your head a few times, attempting to dislodge whatever spell this man had seemed to put you under, you just blink at him. Several times, “Can I help you with something?”

There he stood, his stupid smile on his stupid face with his stupid laugh. And he just smiled at you again before you saw him quirk his head to the side, raising his eyesight above your head, “Can I get 2 pineapple and cherry snow cones, man?”

Oh my god.

Did he just? Yes. Yes, he did indeed step in front of you. And still dazed as you you were, you spun slowly around with your toes digging into the sand and saw that he definitely had ordered for you.

Well, maybe he didn’t. Its entirely possible he ordered 2 for himself.

How long had you been looking at him like he had 2 heads and a halo?

Couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. But maybe it was longer than that and your turn had actually come up and instead of being vigilant, you waffled and he decided to just step ahead of you?

Amidst the poor attempt at logical reasoning you were facing in lieu of this man’s behavior, the smell of sticky sweet pineapple invaded your senses as you realized he was holding the other snow cone he’d ordered. But he was holding it in your face.

“Um, is that for me?”

Blinking your way out of disassociation, you glanced at the snow cone held tightly in his hand before looking up to him for confirmation.

“Sure is. My name is Chan, by the way. Or Chris. I honestly respond by both.”

Still unsure of what this man’s intentions were, but not above refusing a snow cone that you didn’t actually have to pay for, your hand slowly moved to take the snow cone.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your fingertips around the bottom part of the paper cone which cradled the sweet treat. Your hand inevitably came into contact with his as you did but…this man wasn’t letting go…not yet, anyways.

“Name’s Y/n. Is this how you typically pick up the ladies or am I the exception?”

Regaining your ability to speak and contribute to the conversation, you applied just a bit more force to the snow cone, pulling it out of his grip as he let out another angelic giggle before releasing it.

And the rest is history. Or so they say.

He asked you about a 100 questions about your tattoos, at least the ones he could see with relative ease as you were wearing an off white sun dress that hit right below your knees. He admitted to you that he’d love to get an entire sleeve of tattoos, but had no idea where to start, but that he was amazed by yours. You were flattered, really.

Of those 100 questions, of course, 2 of them were him asking you on a more formal date and asking for your number.

Up until this point, you knew Chan had seen all of you. You two had had sex. Showered together. Hell, you two had even cuddled naked together and how the hell had he never, ever noticed this one particular tattoo was beyond you.

You’re still not even certain how you’ve managed to make it an entire year without Chan having at least glimpsed at it. But there he was, arms crossed on the living room sofa, looking at you with one of the most unimpressed and unamused looks he’s ever given you.

“Christopher.”

“Y/n.”

“What do you want me to tell you? I’ve had this tattoo for years. Its not my fault you ever noticed it.”

He huffed out a breath, “You never disclosed it, either.”

You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that ripped through you, almost sending you to the floor, “DISCLOSURE?! Christopher, you’ve got to be fucking with me right now.”

“And what if I’m not?”

“Then I’d asking you what in the fresh hell is actually wrong with you for being upset with me having a BTS tattoo!”

If Chan could’ve managed to roll his eyes any further back into his head, you’re pretty sure you would’ve been making a call to the paramedics, fearing that either his retina’s had detached or he was experiencing a seizure.

“Its not just a BTS tattoo, Y/n.”

“Roll your eyes at me one more goddamned time or so help me god, Christopher.”

His expression was so deadpan, you were certain he’d end up turning to stone with his appearance.

“It’s not just a BTS tattoo, Y/n.” He repeated, doubling down by readjusting his crossed arms and exchanging his man-spread position on the loveseat to throwing one leg over the other.

“This is because its about JK, isn’t it? Did he tease you about this or something?”

His eyes widened, “Why would he tease me about your tattoo, Y/n?!”

Oops.

You may or may not have told Chan about the time you had met BTS years and years ago while working at a HYBE event prior to and most certainly before knowing Chan or even Stray Kids existed.

And you most definitely did not tell him about the fact that you ended up working for BTS a few summers after having met them, doing event coordination for HYBE. And you were positive you never even mentioned to Chan that you got the tattoo as apart of a dare that you dared JK with. The means by which you managed to coerce JK into getting said tattoo was the embarrassing part.

It had never come up in conversation as he had clearly never noticed the tattoo you had on the inside of your right ring finger. Yes, it was small. But so was JK’s.

Yeah. He most assuredly had no clue JK also had a tattoo that was very similar to the one you had, but also different.

“Y/n…why would JK tease me about your tattoo?” He repeated, his arms slowly uncrossing themselves as he propped himself off the back of the couch with his hands.

“Uh…I-uh…Ihonestlyhavenoidea?” You presented him with your best attempt at a shit eating grin as you could muster, choosing to slowly make your way to the armchair that sat opposite of the loveseat.

“Should I just call JK?”

There it was. The threat followed by the growing smirk bubbling across his face as he began to formulate the beginnings of how this tattoo made it’s way to your finger.

“Oh gosh, Chris, no! You don’t have to do that!” You smiled again, placing both of your elbows on your knees as you threw your head into your hands and leaned forward into his space.

“No?” He’d managed to shift all the way to the edge of the loveseat’s cushion before he began to lean into your space.

“Nope.” You squeaked out as you began to slowly find yourself sitting back up, your hands removing themselves from under your chin as your back straightened.

“Y/n…don’t lie to me.”

“Chris, this is silly! It’s just a silly little tattoo.”

Clearing his throat, he stood on his feet and looked down at you. You had to crane your head upwards to meet his glance, feeling all the bits of unease and panic he was forcing you to feel.

Please do not call JK. Please do not call JK.

You kept uttering that phrase like it was some sort of new age mantra; repeating it over and over inside your head and hoping to whatever creator out there that Chan could hear you.

You fucking knew he couldn’t.

Like an 80’s montage but without the cheesy music and all the slow-motion action you could tolerate, Chan pulled his phone from his back pocket. And suddenly, the fast forward button had been activated as the speed with which he dialed JK was similar to that of a cheetah securing dinner for the evening.

“Chris! Come on, baby. It is not that serious! Had I known you were going to react like this, I would’ve said something a LONG time ago!” You pleaded, jumping to your feet and wrapping your arms around his waist.

He only glanced down at you before you heard the click of the other line and JK’s voice came through the speaker, “Yo, Chris! What’s up man?”

Chan cocked an eyebrow as he took his free arm and wrapped it around your waist, all but securing your body against him as he spoke, “Hey JK! Nothing much. I’ve got a question for you.”

A choked whimper was suddenly caught in your throat as you all but slammed your head into Chris’ chest, more or less embarrassed at the story he would be told about the origins of this stupid tattoo and less worried he’d be actually upset with you.

“What’s up, man?”

“Do you happen to know a Y/n L/n?”

There was a brief moment of silence and what sounded like shuffling of some kind on JK’s end, “Yeah…yeah, I do. Wait, why do you ask?”

Chan’s eyes looked down at you once again. He placed a perfunctory kiss to the top of your head because he couldn’t manage to make eye contact with your face to place one on your forehead. It was still pressed firmly to his chest as you now tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Well, she’s my girlfriend and…” Chan was cut off almost immediately by JK.

“Woah! Girlfriend?! You’re dating Y/n-ah? Bro, how long?”

“Just a little over a year. I love her to absolute bits.” He spoke, his voice just above a whisper as he leaned his head down so his lips would brush right against your ear while he spoke. This said whisper rattled you way more than it should have, but you knew that was the sole purpose of Chan doing it in the first place.

“Christopher, I swear to god. Please. Don’t.” Your words were so muffled and you knew Chan couldn’t understand you, but he began to giggle. The same fucking giggle that reminded you of Baby Jesus and Holy Hymns and Angels and shit.

“Congrats, man! She’s awesome. She worked for us for a bit!”

Chan’s arm only tightened around your midsection as you acquiesced to his grip, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he would soon hold the exceedingly mortifying knowledge of how you obtained the very tattoo in question in just mere moments.

“Oh, you don’t say!” He quipped, slowly turning the both of you in a circle by means of swaying side to side.

“Yeah! We met her forever ago through an event HYBE was holding and she ended up doing some event coordination stuff for us for about a year or two. She was fucking phenomenal. She doing okay? Why’d you ask?” JK’s tone sounded equal parts concerned and confused.

“Well, if I happened to say something about a tattoo, would that ring any bells?”

And with that, the loudest and most obnoxious laugh tore through the speaker as JK broke out into a fit of laughter, which only caused Chan to all but pick you up with the arm wrapped around you.

However, JK quickly managed to calm himself before you were actually lifted off the floor, “Oh man. Yeah, yeah that rings a bell. Why?”

“Well, you know she’s got a lot of tattoos…” Chris pauses, awaiting confirmation from JK.

“Of course.”

“And somehow, that little tattoo never managed to come up in conversation in the last year or so and well, today it has and I’m just curious about it. Y/n isn’t being as forthcoming about it as I’d imagined she would be.”

“Well, that makes sense that she hasn’t been,” He let out another brief laugh,” Is she there with you right now?”

Chan looked down at you, realizing that you had readjusted your head to keep your eyes on him, the pleading expression remaining permanently affixed on your face. The look he presented you with, however, was expectant one. And he expected you to answer.

“Hey JK.” You squawked, pressing your forehead against Chan’s chest once again.

“Y/n-ah! I had no idea you were dating Chan-ssi!”

“Well you know me, so good at keeping those secrets!”

Chan squeezed you tighter as your eyes shot up to meet his, brows furrowing together. The force of his constant entrapment finally caused you to mouth the word “ouch” to him.

———

THE DAY PRIOR…

“Hey man, long time no see!” JK greeted Chan, bringing the other into his embrace via their joined hands, but only briefly before they broke apart just as quickly.

“Oh, it hasn’t been that long, has it?” Chan pondered, questioning whether it had really been longer than he had remembered since he saw JK last.

JK nodded, taking a seat on his couch, throwing his body against it and suggesting Chan take a seat in the couch opposite him.

Chan obliged, pulling his keys and phone from his back pocket before doing so. However, once seated, he too fell backwards, allowing his back to meet the soft, plushy fabric of the couch as he settled in.

“Its been,” JK paused, one eye squinting in thought before it popped open, “At least 6 months.”

“6 months!” Chan chirped, grabbing the water bottle that had been set out for him. The sound of the plastic lid coming apart from the seal cracked under his palm as JK hummed in affirmation.

“Yep, I mean, we’ve definitely talked since then but we haven’t properly hung out in a while. Dude, how have you been? You and the kids are killing it out there! I’m so proud!” JK smiled, his lip ring catching the shine of the overhead track lighting.

Chan palmed the back of his neck, only slightly embarrassed at the compliment while briefly grabbing one ear before placing his water back on the living room table, “Ah man. Thanks. The kids work so hard, they deserve it.”

JK shook his head, “You all deserve it. That includes you, Chan-ssi.” His eyes focused in on Chan, encouraging him to not argue in defiance of JK’s compliment.

“I appreciate that. We all work hard.”

JK glanced at Chan, a smirk crossing his lips before responding, “So, how are you and Y/n? I still cannot believe you snagged her.”

Chan couldn’t help the small chuckle that bubbled up from his chest, the mere thought of you still gave him butterflies and made him nervous. How had he managed to snag you was still a mystery to him, but he was so thankful for you regardless. He tried not to make much sense of it because when he attempted to do so, he often found himself perplexed for hours, comparing and contrasting almost every detail of the last year and a half of your courting and the subsequent official ascension of the relationship.

JK, surprisingly, had also been one of the first ones Chan had told about you. Well, of course after he talked with Lee Know and Changbin, who after meeting you only one time, were convinced you were the person Chan would eventually marry and only encouraged him to continue seeing you. Chan would hush them every time they made those comments, not wanting to even put that jinx out into the universe. Of course, he would want to make you his forever, but he knew the both of you needed just a bit more time together as boyfriend and girlfriend before he even thought about asking you to be his wife.

“She’s fantastic,” The words left Chan a bit airy, almost as though he was describing how you managed to make him feel on a daily basis, “ We are doing great. She’s always challenging me and the kids, but is great at helping me decompress and she’s so, so creative. And well, utterly fucking beautiful.”

JK smiled again, though his lips stayed softly pressed together before he spoke, “She’s good for you. I can see the difference.”

Chan’s gaze shot up from his feet, where they had been planted while he spoke about you, “Really?”

JK adjusted his position, throwing his legs over the edge of the couch as his feet firmly pressed against the stone flooring of his apartment, sitting up and leaning against the back as he did.

“Yeah. You just have this air about you dude. You come across way less…encumbered with the weight of quite literally everything. Which, I suppose makes sense,” JK winked in Chan’s direction, “You’re not carrying it all yourself anymore.”

Chan took a moment to really think about JK’s words and his gut response was to say that he was still the same old Chan he was before he met you. But, just as quickly as that impulsive assessment flew into his brain, it flew right out and was replaced with the knowledge that he was finally sharing the weight of life with…you. And sure, he let the kids carry some of the weight from time to time, but never wanted them to ever feel quite the same pressures he faced. He was the leader, after all, and that was his responsibility. But once you walked into his life, or rather he ran up to your’s, the weight eventually didn’t seem as heavy as it once did. And maybe that’s what JK really meant.

Chan’s face had softened in thought, his eyes casting downwards once again as JK let a brief chuckle slice through the comfortable silence between the two men, “I mean look at you, dude. You’re head over fucking heels for this one. When’s the wedding?”

JK always knew how to really wind Chan up, always saying just the kinds of things that would be only slightly out of pocket, but would still manage to make Chan flustered-or annoyed-depending on the context.

“Dude, shut the fuck up. Its too early for that.” Chan threw a pillow at JK, who easily caught it with another laugh.

“Just make sure I get an invite, yeah?”

Chan rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Of course you’ll get an invite, you ass.”

Both the boys laughed, sharing a moment of silence together before Chan was quickly reminded of something he wanted to ask JK about, “Y’know, that reminds me of something I wanted to ask you about.”

JK perked up, “Alright. Hit me.”

“So Y/n has this tattoo on the inside of her finger…on her right hand and I’m almost certain its the only one she’s never told me about. I remember seeing it one night when we were watching a movie on the couch. I was holding her hand and saw it and realized that it looked awfully familiar to one I’d seen before.”

Chan took a sip of water before continuing, “I know you have something to do with this. So spill.”

The almost instantaneous laugh that ripped from JK was jarring, causing Chan’s face to contort into a mixture of amusement and intense curiosity.

Without missing a beat, JK leaned over the small distance between him and the coffee table, offering Chan a glimpse at the ring finger on his left hand, “Yeah, I know a thing or two about it.”

Chan’s eyes focused in, brows pinching together while he really studied the small banana peel tattoo JK donned, “She’s got the banana.”

Chan said it so matter of factly, not only because it was quite literally a matter of fact, but because it was so innocuous but also just really weird. Weird to the point that it drove Chan to to even ask JK about it in the first place.

“So she worked for us for almost 2 years, right?” JK inquired.

Chan nodded his head, remaining silent.

“Well, during that time she did mostly event coordination for us. So like, red carpet events, tour and hotel stuff, comebacks…all of that kind of stuff,” JK ran his hands through the mop of brown hair on his head, “Well, she also helped with the variety shows we do, but specifically the BTS one’s we did for Weverse and HYBE.”

Chan signaled understanding, the look of amusement and curiosity only growing as JK continued.

“We did this one show, and I can’t remember the exact details or…what the premise was now, but I was dressed up as a monkey.”

Chan couldn’t help the boisterous cackle that slipped out of his lips, his hand immediately flying over his mouth at the thought of JK dressed up as a monkey, “A monkey?!”

It was JK’s turn to roll his eyes at Chan, looking at him through his brows, “Yeah. A monkey.”

Chan was gasping for breath at this point, the mere thought of JK in such a predicament only creating a place just for this image in his brain to live rent free. JK, having finally tolerated enough of Chan’s squeaky laughter, threw a pillow at him and landed it square across Chan’s face.

Chan flew backward a bit, caught off guard by the sudden feeling of fabric against his face. Chan caught the pillow and slammed it down across his lap as he forced himself to calm, realizing JK was waiting on him so he could continue, “Alright, alright. You can continue.”

JK shook his head, “Well, a few days after we had done the recording for that episode, I came to find out it was her entire idea. Like, I’m talking the entire premise for the skit from start to finish. She even had me eating a fucking banana, bro.”

Chan stifled the laughter that was threatening to spill, realizing that he didn’t want to be assaulted by anymore couch cushions, “That sounds so much like Y/n.”

JK nodded, “Yeah. Well, when she found out I found out, I couldn’t stop giving her shit for it. It went on for months. At one point, I was calling her my Little Capuchin.”

Chan’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he threw his head back and finally allowed the laugh he was trying to suppress to come out. He threw both arms over his face as he let his head fall to the back of the couch’s edge. After a few moments, and after the heaving of Chan’s chest began to return to baseline, it was only then he sat back up, ruffling his hair before running both of his hands over his face, “So, the tattoo. How, how in the hell did that come about?”

It was only then JK finally let out a brief fit of laugher himself, “A dare.”

Chan’s eyes narrowed in on the man sat across from him, “A dare?”

JK nodded, “It was close to her end with us as she was leaving HYBE to go do work elsewhere and we were all a little bit,” JK held up his pointer and thumb, almost pressing them together to exaggerate that they were the opposite of a little bit, “Drunk. It was then I suggested we get tattoos to signify not only the end of her time working with us, but one that would also make her laugh any time she looked at it. But Chan, when I tell you she was tipsy as hell, I’m honestly not exaggerating.”

Chan had only heard the stories you’d told him about your time in college, driving several frat houses under the table, but he was certain you’d not divulged this particular piece of information about how you managed to acquire a banana tattoo.

He also knew that your days of drinking had come to an abrupt end once you began work in Korea freshly out of college, often times traveling back and forth to the states doing so. You soon realized mixing drinking of any kind and jet lag were things that should never go together. Fuck that, you’d told him. So, you only chose to drink on very, very rare occasions and only times when you knew you’d not be on a intercontinental flight.

JK, noticing Chan’s slight confusion decided to provide a bit more clarification, “Let me preface that by saying, we were having a dinner celebration. Kind of like a send off. She’d only had 3 drinks, but for some reason they hit her hard.”

Chan nodded, feeling a bit more clued in to the context of the situation, “So, it was a dare?”

JK shook his head, “Yeah, kinda sorta? I mean, I was drunk, too. But I remember that I kept calling her Little Capuchin the entire evening and I also remember RM threatening to slap me if I wouldn’t stop.”

JK shook his head, a smile blooming across his face briefly at the memory before he resumed, “I’m pretty sure it was just her and I that ended up going to see my artist because he was still in his shop late at night. I remember standing there with her in the parlor, debating with her on what to get when she basically shouted that we should get bananas.”

Both Chan and JK erupted in laughter, agreeing that the entire situation most definitely sounded like you.

JK took a sip of his water and set it back down on the living room table, “I told her I wasn’t going to get a banana tattooed on me and she dared me.”

Chan held up his hand, waving it about to signal JK to pause, “Hold on. So she dared you?”

JK confirmed with a quick nod, “Yup. And if I didn’t, she told me she’d post all the behind the scenes photos of us, including me in that monkey outfit, on Weverse. I balked at her but she told me HYBE had given her explicit permission to do whatever she wanted with the photos, even before the episode released. She took some real stupid photos of me, Chan.”

JK palmed his forehead, shaking his head in the pithiest way possible before looking back up at Chan, “So there I was, getting a banana peel tattoo because she insisted I was the peel to her banana.”

“I can only imagine the photos she took of you, JK.” Chan snorted, leaning his head against his fist which was propped up on several pillows.

JK stayed quiet for a moment, shaking his head at Chan before something began to develop across his expression, “Let me get back at her.”

Chan sat up, a bit perplexed at the request JK was propositioning, “What’dya mean?”

“She doesn’t think you know a thing about this tattoo, right? Well, after she’d sobered up and I told her she basically blackmailed me into getting it, she was honestly mortified. She wouldn’t stop apologizing. It was only after I told her she was fine no less than 10 times and I wasn’t bothered in the slightest that she finally decided to listen to me, but I know the whole thing still embarrasses the shit out of her. And thats probably why she’s never told you about it. Its small and she just assumes you’ve not noticed it yet, I bet.” JK explained, offering a very valid reason for Chan to agree to his request.

“I mean, sounds entirely reasonable why she hasn’t then. So, what’s your idea?”

———

Chan leaned down, pressing a curt peck on the tip of your nose as you were now unable to smash your face into his chest.

“So, she hasn’t told you about the tattoo?” JK’s voice trilled through the phone still snug in Chan’s hand.

“Nope, sure hasn’t.” Chan’s less than impressed expression fell to you again, after he brought you down with him against the couch. You both fell against it with soft grunts, him forcing you to basically sit glued to his side.

“Ugh! Do you both have to do this to me right now? Its just a stupid tattoo!” You bellowed, trying your best to turn inwards towards Chan to hide your face in any capacity you could.

Both of the men began to laugh, almost in tandem. Almost like they both knew something you didn’t. Your suspicions only grew when Chan’s hold of you began to lessen to the point you were able to turn inwards and watch his face.

He had set his phone down on the coffee table in front of you both, his face was red from laughter and slightly wet from the rather amused tears that quickly followed. You could only assume JK looked exceeding similar to the way your boyfriend did in that very moment.

You sat up, straightening your posture and looked between the phone and your boyfriend several times before you realized the both of them were playing some sort of something with you still.

“I cannot believe you two.” It was your turn to roll your eyes so hard, certain your retinas would detach as you scooted a few inches away from Chan and crossed your own arms.

Chan heaved in a large amount of air, hearing what you said during the brief pause in both his and JK’s laughter that he turned to look at you. He noticed the considerable distance you had managed to make down the couch away from him as his laughter began to quell, JK’s soon followed suit.

“Oh Little Capuchin, don’t be upset!” JK guffawed, himself being taken over by laughter once again. You glanced over to Chan, an eyebrow raised, and it was ever apparent he was suppressing additional laughter himself.

“Fuck you, JK.” You felt the heat of embarrassment flood your face; your cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson at the pet name you’d not heard in so long.

“Aw, c’mon! You’re the banana to my peel!” He quipped, Chan only sporting one hell of an tickled expression.

“I’m fucking done with you, two,” Your brows leveled in Chan’s direction, “You knew, didn’t you? He told you when you two hung out yesterday, didn’t he?”

Chan only shrugged, a massive grin appearing on his lips, “I mean, we might’ve discussed it?”

“Bahng Christopher Chan! Jeon Jun-Kook! You both are menaces and I hate you both!” You stuck your nose up towards the ceiling, turning a quarter of the way away from Chan with your arms tightly crossed into one another.

The boys continued their dumb giggling, Chan only taking just shy of a few more minutes before you heard him hang up the phone. The soft thud of his phone settling on the table was heard next, followed by the feeling of the couch dipping slightly behind you.

Chan positioned himself behind you, pressing his chest to your back as his arms meandered their way around your midsection. His angular chin found purchase between your neck and shoulder before he spoke.

“Baby girl, I knew you had that tattoo months and months ago. I had a feeling JK knew something about it because I remembered he had a very similar one to yours. I did ask him about it yesterday and he told me everything.”

His words vibrated against your collarbone as he spoke and without any warning, his hold on you tightened as he fell backwards against the couch, pulling you on top of him still with your back against his chest. Instinctually, feeling like you were going to fall, you threw your hands out in a feeble attempt to catch yourself, but you weren’t falling. Chan had a strong hold of you.

You let out a massive sigh, your chest pressing against the strength of Chan’s arms as you did before you broke the silence, “This is so fucking uncomfortable, Christopher.” You couldn’t help the exceptionally minuscule grin that began to creep its way through the hardened expression you were trying to maintain.

“Well, seeing you genuinely embarrassed over something you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about is uncomfortable to me, baby girl.” He stated plainly, like this was a fact you should’ve known from Day 1.

You turned your head towards his, which was now nestled into the spot between his neck and shoulder, your faces met briefly before you turned it back to look up at the ceiling, “God forbid.”

Chan’s embrace stiffened as he applied a bit more pressure to your midsection, causing you to yelp out a large puff of air.

The sound that emanated from you caused the both of you to erupt in your own fit of mindless cackling, “What kind of sound was that?!”

Chan couldn’t help the yell of a laugh that flew from him as he managed to sit the both of you up on his lap, your hands bracing on either sides of his arms at the rather uncoordinated effort. Successful, nonetheless.

“You squeezed the air out of me, Christopher!” You giggled, gently slapping the hand he had pressed against your abdomen.

“I am sorry, baby girl! You okay?” He peppered a few kisses against your shoulder before placing one on your cheek.

“I’m okay, Chris,” You paused as you wiggled your way off of his lap to sit next to him, though you left your legs draped over his knees, “You really got me going there for a second.”

He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, placing a few behind your ear, “Well, you set it up pretty well, baby. Walked right into it, even.”

You rolled your eyes, not severely as last time and definitely lined with way more sarcasm that before, “Let me guess, it was JK’s idea?”

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