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cargurudiy · 11 days
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Brighten Up Your Ride: A Guide to Replacing Reverse Light Bulbs on Your Hyundai Tucson
Brighten Up Your Ride: A Guide to Replacing Reverse Light Bulbs on Your Hyundai Tucson Greetings, fellow automotive enthusiasts! Today, we embark on an illuminating journey as we delve into the process of replacing the reverse light bulb on your trusty Hyundai Tucson. Whether you’re a seasoned DIY aficionado or a newcomer to the world of car maintenance, fear not, for we shall navigate this task…
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omtai · 6 months
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there are too many bright lights in this world. like shut da hell up
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solradguy · 8 months
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Sol Guilty Gear Badguy, what is your favorite color?
There isn't a single shade of red that I don't like, so if I had to narrow it down to just one color I'd say like a dark-ish shade of red
But I love a bunch of colors. Here's a palette of my top 5 (not in any particular order):
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sameerasampath12 · 2 years
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housebean · 2 months
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denimbex1986 · 5 months
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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”
...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.
“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”
“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?
It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.
Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.
That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.
In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.
It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?
It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.
Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?
Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.
Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?
They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.
Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?
It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]
Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?
I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.
There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?
There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.
Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?
Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.
To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.
Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.
Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.
I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?
I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.
Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?
Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.
[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]
I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…
I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”
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shewroteaworld · 7 months
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I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't
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Premise: Brilliant sunshine!reader gets heat stroke on a case. Your best friend, Spencer Reid, is predictably worried about you. What he doesn't expect is to be forced to come to terms with his feelings for you.
Word count: approx. 3,200
TW: Brief mention of vomit and, perhaps, hospitals
(Y/N/N): Your nickname
Author's Note: Super excited to introduce brilliant sunshine!reader (aka, super smart sunshine!reader) onto my fanfic writing scene! Definitely willing to write more of her in the future if anyone is interested. Hope you enjoy!
“Does anybody have more water?”
“Where is the damn ambulance?”
Perhaps your job classically conditioned you to respond to Hotch’s “I’m seriously not fucking around” tone because your eyes crack open. 
Someone put weights on your eyelids and cranked the sun to extra-bright. The harsh rays burned your retinas and washed everything in a white blur. Did someone set off a flash bang?
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” Miraculously, out of the screeching white, you made out JJ’s halo of blonde hair. 
“JJ?” You groaned. Even though you could barely see, it felt like the whole world was spinning, 
“Hotch, she’s coming around!” You recognized Morgan’s voice. “Welcome back to the world of the living, honey. We’re happy to see you.”
Your heart rate spiked. You never died. Did you die? 
“Yes, we still need a medic!” Hotch barked. 
You winced. “Wha?” Suddenly, your mouth couldn’t handle a one-syllable world. Even more alarming, your brain, the same brain that kept up with Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid,  couldn’t understand what the hell was going on.
 “What I do?” You whined. 
“He’s not yelling at you, honey,” JJ said like a kindergarten teacher. “You’re just a little out of it right now.”
“Is she conscious?” Another voice entered. Your head spun. “I brought more water.” 
You moaned to suppress a gag. Your eyelids drooped, and you relished in the break from the light.
“Hey, smarty pants, stay with us.” Morgan pat your cheek. “Let Emily get some water in you.” You couldn’t force your eyes open more if you tried.
Your friend Emily. That’s who the voice belonged to. 
Suddenly, JJ pulled your hair from your face, Morgan lifted your head, and Emily forced a water bottle to your lips simultaneously.  The blinding glare seared your eyes and your head spun. You wanted to sob and maybe vomit.
Your chest hitched with a shallow inhale. “Stop.” You whined.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” JJ said.
“No!” You exclaimed.
“Honey–” Morgan tried. 
You thrashed against his hold, but your exhausted muscles couldn’t throw Morgan’s gentlest grip. 
“Maybe we should let her go.” Emily said.
“She needs water.” JJ countered.
“She’s disoriented.” Hotch cut in. “Let her get her bearings first, but don’t let her close her eyes.”
Gingerly, Morgan lay your body back on the grass. Your head swam, and your vision rippled as if you could see the heat waves in the California air. You tried to take a deep breath but choked.  
You sputtered. Every inhale led to a series of dry coughs. In your delirium, you thought of Spencer. Your Spencer. Where the hell was he? Did he not love you anymore?
Suddenly, Hotch loomed over you. His tall frame blocked out the brutality of the sun’s glare, which eased your headache and nausea but not your cough. His eyebrows were so deeply furrowed they formed a trench of wrinkles across his forehead. “Check her airway.” 
Suddenly, you stared into JJ’s blue eyes. Other hands tried to manipulate your body. You jerked.
“(Y/N), relax.”
“Honey, please–”
“Turn her on her side!” Morgan’s cut off by Reid, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard. 
***
Spencer Reid has survived many traumatic situations. 
He's cared for his schizophrenic mother. He’s been kidnapped. He recovered from a drug addiction. And those are just a few items from his dissertation-length “PTSD-Causing Experiences” list. 
But many of his worst traumas were a by-product of being a profiler– a job which allowed him to utilize his intellect to help others. He was willing to accrue trauma like Pokemon cards in exchange for applying his genetic gifts to create a safer world. 
Reid could have framed your heat exhaustion as another scare in the line of duty. But when Reid saw you, his brilliant girl, on the ground, his heart fell through his feet.
Then, he saw how his the team responded to your medical emergency.
When he witnessed you coughing and writhing on your back as the team leered over with water, he thought he might explode.
You could be asphyxiating, and the team could be letting you choke while forcing more fluid down your throat. 
He shivered as he sprinted down the steps of the local precinct and onto the grassy field where you lay. 
“Turn her on her side!” He yelled as diagnoses and courses of action fled through his mind on hyperspeed.
“We’re trying, she—”
“Spence?” You choked out through a coughing fit. He’s surprised his ears caught it.
Reid knelt next to you. “Let’s get you into recovery position.” He said, his voice suddenly soft as clouds. Reid gingerly pushed you onto your left side. “Off your back, there we go.” He bent your right leg and slid it in front of your body to prevent you from rolling onto your stomach if you lost consciousness. 
“Did she faint?” Reid asked the team. He couldn’t take his eyes from your face. 
“We think so. She was dizzy, so she laid on the ground. Then she was unresponsive for at least 40 seconds,” Emily said. 
Spencer pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Predictably, you were feverishly hot. “She’s burning up. Has someone called an ambulance?”
“Allegedly.” Hotch said, an edge to his voice. 
“We have, sir. They’re on their way.” A local police officer responded, exasperated.
Spencer’s eye twitched. “How long has she been down?” You whined, and he stroked your cheekbone with his thumb.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispered. 
“In total, 15 minutes.” Hotch supplied. “Emily, pour some more water on her.”
“This was for her to drink.”
“Use one bottle to pour on her face and neck.” Spencer said. “I ran and got Gatorade. She should start with sips of that when she can swallow. Heat stroke can also be caused by salt depletion.” 
Spencer was conversing with a local officer over the safety protocols in the area when a pair of policemen walked into the precinct, gossiping about the FBI agent who “folded fast in the southern Cali heat.”
Spencer’s jaw had clenched. Maybe one of his team members was ill since they put in most of the grunt work to catch the unsub. He would’ve been more annoyed if not for the worry gnawing at his brain. What if they were talking about (Y/N)? She looked a little shaky right after her chase with the unsub, but Spencer didn’t get a chance to ask his friend if she was alright. And, stupidly enough, he forgot to text her to check if she drank any water post-case. Quickly, Reid excused himself, grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, and rushed to the field where your limp body trembled on the grass. 
“I’m going to pour some water on you, honey," Emily said. You flinched as the frigid water hit your hairline. 
“Breathe, relax.” Spencer said, shielding your nose. The last thing you needed was some accidental waterboarding.
Seconds after the water drenched your forehead, your whole body relaxed into the grass. “That felt good.” You smiled weakly. 
Spencer stroked your arm. “Let’s sit you up in a minute, okay? You should try some Gatorade before the EMTs get here.”
“EMTs? I’m fine.” You whined.
Spencer didn’t think it was possible for his eyebrows to crease further. 
“You’re not fine.” Gentler, he said, “and it’s okay not to be fine, sunlight.”
“But, I’m alive.” You tried to roll onto your stomach, but your bent leg kept you safe on your back.
Some on the team members chuckled, but Spencer didn’t find your delirium humorous. “I know you’re alive, sweetie. But you’re way too hot. I think you’re a little confused right now.”
“I’m just…” You winced. “I’m alive.”
The knot in Spencer’s chest tightened ten-fold. This could be heat stroke. At the very least, you had heat exhaustion. You were dehydrated. You were delirious. 
Best case scenario: you were ill for a few days. Worst case scenario: You had vital organ damage.
Just as he’s about to call 911 himself, JJ interrupted him. “Look–ambulance lights. Help is on the way, honey.”
“You hear that, (Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine.” Morgan said. If only Spencer felt that confident. 
“Spence…” You blocked your eyes from the light with your limp right hand. “I’m scared. I don’t feel well.” 
“Oh, (Y/N), I know.” He cupped your shoulder and hoped you could feel his love for you through his palm. That sent a jolt down his spine. He wasn’t supposed to comfortably think those thoughts about you.
You were sick. This wasn’t the time. He leaned over your body. He gave you plenty of breathing room, but his torso was  parallel to your hip so his eyes could meet your watering ones. “Hey, take a breath for me, Smartie.” 
Your nickname for him slipped from his tongue so easily it spooked him. Suddenly, he noticed his thumb stroking over your cotton t-shirt. He should stop. The whole team was watching. He was being was too intimate; he'd face stupid quips from Morgan for days. He kept stroking anyway.
He observed your chest rise and fall. Your breaths were shaky but deeper. He relaxed a tad. Vital oxygen was reaching your bloodstream.
“(Y/N), can we try something?” Spencer asked.
“Yes. Maybe. What is it?”
The knot in his chest loosened. You responded immediately and with more than two words; you were becoming more lucid. 
“Can you sit up and have some sips of Gatorade? I got your favorite flavor. At least, if your favorite flavor hasn’t changed from three years ago.” It most likely hadn’t. Once your opinion settled, it was frustratingly hard to erode your verdict. 
“I can’t…I don’t know.”
“I know sitting up is hard. I’ll help you. And I’ll prop you against my chest. I’ll hold your weight when you can’t.”
“KK, Spence.” Your childlike tone tugged at his heart strings.
Spencer and Morgan lifted your limp body from the ground. They manhandled you into a sitting position with your head propped on Spencer’s shoulder and your body tucked between his thighs. 
One of his arms stabilized you while the other raised a cold bottle of orange Gatorade to your lips.
After nine sips of Gatorade, you spoke again. 
“Orange.” You took another sip. "My favorite.”
He smiled into your hair. “When have I ever lied to you, (Y/N/N)?”
***
Spencer nearly created a crater in the linoleum floor of the ER waiting room with his bouncing heel by the time the doctor came back with an update. 
“She had a mild case of heat stroke. We currently have her on fluids, and she’ll need lots of rest for at least the next week.” Doctor Bahamani concluded. 
“No signs of metabolic dysfunction? Any respiratory distress?” Reid checked. 
Doctor Bahamani smiled knowingly. “She’s going to be just fine, Doctor Reid.”
“Can I see her?” Spencer asked. 
“Yes. Only two at a time, please.” 
Spencer didn’t care who volunteered with him. He moved without thinking. An outpouring of gratitude for his eidetic memory flooded him. Through the thickest brain fog, he could trust his recollection of the hospital to bring him to the correct hospital room.
The security staff practically had to drag him away from your bedside after the ambulance ride. They might have thrown him out of the ER if not for the flash of his FBI badge.
Something nagged at him as he sped past the nursing station. 
You were going to be fine. The ER doctor confirmed it. Yet his heart was still pounding and he could barely refrain from running. Even more odd, he wasn’t ashamed of his irrational behavior. 
So what if a doctor deemed you were okay? It was you. And he saw you groggier and more out of it than you'd ever been. And who knows how thorough the doctors were with their examination? It was completely reasonable to worry for one of his closest friends. 
He just couldn't believe you were alright until he checked you over with his own hands and his own eyes.
***
When you grinned at him from your cot, Spencer wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.
Tears glazed your eyes. But, your gorgeous smile was back. 
“Spencer?” You asked, brow raised and head cocked. 
He’d been staring too long. He looked like an idiot, lamely standing in the doorway as if he were the one with heat stroke.
“Straighten your head. Your neck is probably tight.”
You smiled, but this time it was tight-lipped and painful-looking. “You’re too worried.”
He watched saline drip down your IV. “Of course I’m worried, (Y/N). You got heat stroke.” With a deep breath as a shot of courage, he sat in the chair by the head of your bed.
There was nothing odd about sitting with his best friend at the hospital. 
His chest twisted at “best friend” and his resolve collapsed. He couldn’t deny it anymore. 
He liked you. He really, really liked you. He actually might even–
“Luckily, I got out pretty unscathed.” You snapped Spencer out of his spiral. “A little dehydrated. Achy. Might feel sick for a few days.”
“Or weeks.” Spencer corrected.
“Trying to look on the bright side here, Doctor.” You smirked and Spencer swore his right ventricle tightened.
Then, your nose scrunched and Spencer's wiped clean of any concern about his cardiac health. 
“What hurts?”
“Just a little achy, Spencer. I’m alright.” 
He shot you a look. He knew all your excuses. He knew you went to self-harming lengths to not worry people. 
“You’re not alright.” He reached for the red nurse-call button. 
Your eyes widened in surprise. “Okay…my body aches, Spence. And the IV burns. But they’ve already told me that’s normal. No need to take nurses away from an emergency.”
The nurses at the station desk didn’t appear to be rushing around for anyone, but Spencer feared this wouldn’t behoove his case. 
“They can give you pain medication, if you want.”
You hesitated, and immediately Spencer pressed the button. When you smiled weakly instead of bickering, his worry grew tenfold but not without a rush of heat flooding his entire body. 
In Morgan's words, he’s down bad. 
“How are you doing, sunshine?” As if he’d been summoned, Morgan appeared in the doorway. 
Spencer stepped back from your cot. The part of him riled from Morgan’s “sunshine” moniker wants to shove his hand into yours. Spencer thought he hid his annoyance well, but something about Morgan's smirk told him otherwise.
“Um…”
Morgan’s smirk fell. “You feel that bad, huh?”
You chuckled sadly. “Do I look that shitty or am I an open book today?”
“You never look shitty,” Spencer said. A tsunami of blood rushed to his face.
“Anyway,” Morgan said, “Do you want anything, Beauty Queen? I can grab you some jello.” 
“Jello sounds nice.” You said, and something in your voice was so vulnerable and naive Spencer wanted to wrap you in his arms as tight as he could. Which was illogical. That would only hurt you further. 
He shook his head as if that would remove the thoughts from his mind. “I’m gonna see if I can check up on your labs at the nurse’s station. I’ll make sure they’re giving you the good drugs.” He smiled.
You laughed– a genuine laugh– and Spencer’s heart soared. “Thanks, Spence.”
“I’ll go grab your jello,” Morgan said.
“Hold on, you should stay with her just in case she needs anything," Spencer said.
“I’ll be fine, Spence.” You said, but Spencer was not prepared to take "no" for an answer.
“If you boys wants to run her some errands, I’ll stay.” Emily stood in the doorway. “JJ is coming soon too– she just got a phone call from a very frantic Penelope.”
Your nose crinkled. “Oh no.” You groaned, but you were smiling. 
“Oh, yes. Be prepared for some mother henning," Emily said.
“Garcia can’t be any more mother henning than Reid," Morgan said. 
Before his face could turn redder than a baboon’s bottom, Spencer fled.
He’s only two yards from the nursing station when Morgan intercepted him at the end of the hall. 
“So, you’re going to make your move, right?”
Spencer's body temperature plummeted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tried to shoulder past Morgan, but he was no match for his grip strength. “Reid, c’mon. You like (Y/N).”
Part of him wanted to laugh. “Like” seemed too simple of a word to describe the symphony of feelings (Y/N) started in him. “It’s…” He’s too tongue-tied to lie. “It’s complicated.”
You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You’re brimming with empathy. You’re everything Spencer could want. And it scared the shit out of him. Because that meant there’s even more to lose. And if he lost you, there would be no one to blame but himself. It was better for his psyche to not go there with you– to step back from the line rather than risk what would happen if he failed to make it work in the end. 
And what if you got hurt? What is you fell in the line of duty? Or worse, what if someone targeted you because of your romantic tie to him? Spencer's already experienced the pain of losing a soulmate-- a concept he wasn't even sure he believed in-- once. He wasn't not sure if he could survive it a second time.
There was too much unpredictability in his life. He chose a dangerous profession. He was gifted a ticking time-bomb of dangerous genes. He’d never forgive himself if he inflicted onto you the pain he’s been through; losing loved ones, whether through death or mental illness. 
Morgan's expression turned sympathetic. “Reid, you should give it a shot. Our lives our hectic. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”
Spencer blinked to block tears from welling. “I just want her to be happy, too.”
“And who says you don't make her happy?”
“His idiotic genius brain.” Rossi appeared from around the corner.
Spencer froze. “You heard?” His face flushed yet again.
“Just the tail end. But Reid…” He trailed off.
Morgan took the hint. “I’m going to get (Y/N) some jello. With my charm, I could negotiate for some whipped cream.” 
“Don’t get whipped cream on it. She’s lactose sensitive,” Spencer said.
Morgan's stupid smirk reappeared. “Gotcha, Reid.”
Rossi took Morgan's place. Once Morgan was out of sight, he began his speech. “You love her. Don’t get in your own way.” Rossi put his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “And (Y/N) is an incredibly intelligent woman. Don’t insult her intelligence by thinking she can’t decide who is or is not worth taking a risk. And for what it’s worth…a man like you is worth the risk.” 
Rossi left Reid staring at his back. 
For the longest time, Reid convinced himself he refrained from asking you out to protect you from himself and his hefty baggage. And that’s not completely untrue. 
But suddenly, he realized he was primarily trying to protect himself from exposing his vulnerabilities to you this whole time. There’s never been a person whose opinion affected him like yours. There's never been a life he's wanted to protect more except perhaps...Maeve.
But just like it’s up to you to decide who’s worth the risk, it’s up to him to decide as well.
And if today taught him anything, shit happens. And if you slip through his fingers, he doesn't want it to because he wasn't brave enough to make a first move.
And being your person was more than worth the risk of rejection.
Author's Note: Thank you to so much to everyone who stuck around through my hiatus! I appreciate every single one of you! You're super cool :)
Happy to be back! Inbox is open to chat about writing and take requests! Please check pinned "Blurb Requests" post before requesting! (Will update the post as my boundaries update!)
Have an awesome day or night, wherever you are in this crazy world. I am incredibly thankful you spent part of your precious life reading something I penned.
Forever grateful,
shewroteaworld
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beansandsprouts · 4 months
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Sunshine
Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.
Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.
Warnings: none
Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.
Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.
With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.
He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.
The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.
"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.
"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.
Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.
Right?
Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.
Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.
He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.
After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.
He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.
Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.
You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.
"Hey! You're Bucky right?"
A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.
"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"
He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.
"Steve's more the talker huh?"
Bucky huffed out a chuckle.
"Definitely." He responded.
It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.
"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.
This was going to be an interesting experience.
Next Part
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emdeerm · 6 months
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Past saves Present
Og fic ig
In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.
For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.
And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.
His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.
Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.
"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.
His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.
"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.
"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."
The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.
Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.
His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.
A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.
You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.
Their hands are still clean.
Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.
You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.
-------
Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.
The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.
Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.
Animals were a little intriguing.
Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.
Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.
Danny wanted out of this Cult.
A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.
They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.
Danny got a plan.
It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.
His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.
The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.
He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.
---
Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.
He ran to the edge.
He was sinking.
The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.
He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.
His brother's wasn't loud enough.
"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.
The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.
"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.
And his brother was back.
-----
Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.
Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.
On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.
Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.
It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.
Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.
Can he ever get a normal Family???
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cargurudiy · 11 days
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Brighten Up Your Ride: A Guide to Replacing Reverse Light Bulbs on Your Hyundai Tucson
Brighten Up Your Ride: A Guide to Replacing Reverse Light Bulbs on Your Hyundai Tucson Greetings, fellow automotive enthusiasts! Today, we embark on an illuminating journey as we delve into the process of replacing the reverse light bulb on your trusty Hyundai Tucson. Whether you’re a seasoned DIY aficionado or a newcomer to the world of car maintenance, fear not, for we shall navigate this task…
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maiverie · 10 months
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THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚
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you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.
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in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff
word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k
fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚
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“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett
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now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚
THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.
after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 
lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.
this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.
when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.
you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 
the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 
the person is drenched and miserable.
and practically radiating angst and despair.  
because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.
they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.
park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 
park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 
and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 
oh.
you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 
crap.
you should say something.
you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”
sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 
“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 
“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 
the rumors are so true. 
sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.
in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.
“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 
“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”
oh god.
you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.
his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.
you wish he’d say something.
anything. literally anything.
but he’s silent.
well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?
just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.
“. . . niki.”
huh?
you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.
“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”
oh.
your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”
sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 
“so where’s niki now?”
he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”
“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 
stupid stupid stupid. 
why are you rambling so much? 
sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”
you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”
he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”
you blinked in surprise. “how?”
he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 
you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.
you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 
“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”
“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”
“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”
he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”
your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”
sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.
how pretty.
his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 
you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 
it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 
“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”
“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 
“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”
“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 
sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 
he knows your name.
he’ll see you around.
you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.
and he wants you to get home safe.
.
( to be continued )
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this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !
a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓
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quhogawereri · 2 years
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Coidak co804 manual
the back are a bit confusing so keep the manual it comes with, take a pic of it on your phone for easy access or something.FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, PLEASE READ THIS USER MANUAL CAREFULLY. BEFORE YOUR INITIAL START-UP! CAUTION! Keep this equipment away from rain, moisture and liquids.
</p><br>https://dovuvukudos.tumblr.com/post/693097856910884864/eyoyo-barcode-scanner-manual-pdf, https://dovuvukudos.tumblr.com/post/693097856910884864/eyoyo-barcode-scanner-manual-pdf, https://dovuvukudos.tumblr.com/post/693097856910884864/eyoyo-barcode-scanner-manual-pdf, https://dovuvukudos.tumblr.com/post/693097856910884864/eyoyo-barcode-scanner-manual-pdf, https://dovuvukudos.tumblr.com/post/693097856910884864/eyoyo-barcode-scanner-manual-pdf.
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headlines-headlines · 10 months
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𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫-𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭
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𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐱 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫! 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.
★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! Ubuyashiki sends you and Tomioka on an important mission. However, you both need to get... creative... to fulfill your task and make it back in one piece.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, smut, intoxication (sex dust), fingering, pet name use (baby), rough + raw sex, creampie.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k words...
𝐚/𝐧: i had the bright idea of Tomioka turning into lowk a soft dom with the help of an aphrodisiac ;^). enjoy! (divider: @cafekitsune)
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"Be well my children, please return to us safely," Master Ubuyashiki replied, dismissing the two Pillars in front of him to begin their journey down to the Garment District. 
"Yes master, of course," You answered, both you and Tomioka rising from your deep bows.
Currently, at the Ubuyashiki estate, you, [L/n] [F/n], and Tomioka Giyuu, were summoned by Master Ubuyashiki due to a troubling alert from a village near the Demon Slayer headquarters. The threat entailed a demon who wiped out several smaller villages nearby, each in the span of a night, simply with the ability to reduce multitudes of people into a trance-like state. This time, it found its way to a larger village crucial to the garment supply for the Demon Slayer headquarters, already devastating a handful of other closely connected communities. 
Many slayers were dispatched in earlier stages of the threat, but none have returned from their missions. The common result was dismembered slayers deep within the forest, or locals dropping dead to the ground from sheer exhaustion first, before being eaten unconsciously. Villages would report signs of a sweet-smelling scent and barely translucent fog emanating from deep in the forest, with even slight ingestion of it causing overwhelming heat and physical excitement. It was a tricky task, not only wiping out a notorious demon but fighting an invisible foe, its blood demon art. 
It was decided that two Pillars, close in rank would go investigate the issue and dispose of the threat immediately before the demon made its appearance by nightfall. Knowing you were already acquainted with your fellow Pillar, Ubuyashiki decided Tomioka's calm and calculated attitude complimented your quick initiative and undying drive. Over the past few months, you had begun to bring him out of his isolated shell. By befriending him, it led him to open up more,  having a noticeable effect on the other Pillars as well. Leave it to Light Pillar [F/n]'s radiating beauty, and soft, bubbly demeanor to finally melt his cold exterior. 
This was not the first mission the two of you have gone on, however. A similar, and even longer tactical mission preceded this one, so naturally, you held no qualms about working with Tomioka once more. He was super thoughtful and charming, albeit a bit quiet, but never gave you any glaring issues to worry about. Despite you both bumping heads from time to time due to your more extroverted personality, Tomioka came to appreciate the friendly dynamic you shared. 
Exiting the premises, your eyes pointed to the sky, watching both of your crows circle around each other before calling out to you, directing your path. At your side, Giyuu set a brisk pace while you matched him, turning back to wave a cheery "Goodbye!" to a few of the other Pillars gathered at the gate to send you off. 
You were prepared to complete your duty as a Pillar, ending the incessant destruction of the Smoke demon that hid in the forest.
• • • 
It was 30 minutes before midnight, the exact time when the first waves of translucent fog would start to seep into the village. After reserving temporary lodging, you and Tomioka had gone into the forest, listening for the hissing whispers that would urge locals and Slayers alike deeper into the looming trees and dense foliage. The demon would coax its victims into the darkness, promising their sweetest desires whilst intoxicating them with smoke. By the time they would reach the owner of the voice, it would be too late. The once straight path would become eternally long, with no discernible way out. One would have already lost control of their limbs and basic motor functions, unable to fight back, or even tear their eyes away from the horrifying sight of a ravenous demon.  
The plan was to entrap the smoke demon during its preparations to disperse the poison. The safety of the villagers came first, so eliminating the demon's ability to use its blood art was key. After locating it, you were to disable and behead the demon without casualties and make it out of the supposed never-ending forest. You and Tomioka concealed your breathing techniques in order to mask your presence, diving straight into combat from the shadows. You watched as the figure of a woman morphed into a creature built from the forest terrain. It was a disfigured humanoid shape, with vines slithering up her body, full of flowers you assumed held the contents of that sweet-smelling fog.  By catching it off guard, you were able to render quick slices with your blade along her limbs, severing not only the flowers but whatever body part was unlucky enough to be underneath. 
Your attack proved to be effective, but not without consequences. Instead of regenerating a new limb, the gaping hole swole up with a giant flower, shooting its mist directly into your face, and throwing you several meters back. Breathing it in so densely almost paralyzed your lungs from shock. You coughed and sputtered, as you hit the ground. Driving your sword into the dirt, you steadied yourself to rise to your feet, keeping a faint eye out for any further strikes, but watched as Tomioka swooped in to sever the newly formed appendage. It caught on, sending a few puffs of smoke his way as he effortlessly weaved between them, closing the distance. Finally finding an opening, Tomioka drove his nichirin sword into the shoulder of the demon, using his water-breathing form to slice across, effectively taking its head off its shoulders. However, hoping to make a grand exit, the demon's fallen limbs burst into smoke, shrouding the area with airborne poison before vaporizing. Tomioka had already taken a heavy couple of breaths before slamming his haori to his nose, trying to prevent further smoke inhalation. 
"Curse you Slayers... I would have torn apart your headquarters by now... if it weren't for your meddling swordsmen," The demon spat, choking bitterly from being beheaded.  
Her body began to burn and vaporize underneath the bright moonlight, the poisonous secretions from her skin dispersing into the air. There was soon nothing left of her, not even the long, extravagant, robes she adorned herself with.
Tomioka's chest heaved from fatigue, drops of sweat running down his temple. He watched sternly as all traces of the demon disappeared, before releasing a long exhale. It was now eerily quiet, the long assault finally over. You both had succeeded, protecting a village from total annihilation once more. 
Before getting a chance to celebrate, he felt a certain light-headedness seize him, forcing him to take a step back to regain his balance. The mist that was now vanishing had managed to up the temperature of the surrounding area by a few degrees. It was a little unnerving, but he realized you both would have to endure whatever effects may result from ingesting various amounts of the demon's blood art. It was non-lethal, with the worst side effect reported to be dropping unconscious. He would stay in close proximity to you for the rest of the night, deciding it was better to monitor your reaction since you took most of the damage.
Pulling himself together, he turned his attention to you in the distance. 
You stood several feet away, hunched over, unable to move as the stiffening heat encased every fiber of your being. 
Your knees buckled underneath you as you felt your body's heat intensify. There was a sinister warmth pooling between your legs and shooting up your spine. You knew it was too late to hope to reverse the demon's blood art, so you doubled down, deciding to bear it. You tried your best to steady your breath as you sank to the ground, your heartbeat hammering in your ribcage while the effects of the fog settled into your body. 
"[F/N]!" Giyuu's strained voice called out to you, regardless if you could hear him or not. He had missed most of the demon's final smoke attack, but started to feel his chest tighten at the sight of you on your knees, breathing heavily. He was nearly exhausted making his way over to you, but after seeing you ingest so much smoke, there was nothing more important in this moment than making sure you were okay. He would get you out of here safely if it was the last thing he did. Protecting you was the final part of his mission. 
It was then as if the temperature of the area skyrocketed. As Tomioka approached you, the air grew thick, and time slowed down as everything grew hazy around him. He could only really hear how hard he was breathing, and his focus was lasered in on your figure, wanting to make it to you as quickly as possible. As his footsteps grew closer, you hurriedly outstretched your arm towards him, aiming to halt his advances.
"No! Don't come any closer!" You cried out, panicking because you knew what was happening to you. This poison... resembled the effects of an aphrodisiac, however, almost hundreds of times more potent than a natural one. You didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your fellow Pillar, the state you were in could put you both in a very compromising position. Regardless, Tomioka ignored your warning and pushed on, soon dropping to his knees with a 'thud' at your lefthand side.
"Are you alright?!" His sturdy hands came up to grip your shoulders, a worried expression all over his face. "Do you feel anything?" He questioned you. 
Your body felt hot all over, and his touches were scalding, you needed him away from you before it was too late. You tried to turn away from him, avoiding his eyes, but his grip was unwavering, holding you in place. 
"Get away from me. ...Please Giyuu," you quietly begged him, unable to explain what was making you so flustered. You brought a hand to his chest, slightly pushing him away to maintain your distance. A shade of pink dusted your cheeks as you felt his eyes scan your body, examining you so closely. 
"Not until you tell me what's happening," he insisted, suddenly fixated on the way your chest heaved as you took in deep breaths. 
"It's just, really, really hot," you half-lied. A light layer of sheen was starting to gather on your forehead, and you reached up to unbutton the first few buttons of your collar. 
"Here, take this off," He insisted, quickly reaching over to slide off your haori, and placing your sword with it on the ground next to you. His haori joined yours as he too, tried to escape the heat creeping up his legs, spine, and into his face and chest. 
You fanned yourself to no avail, closing your eyes to ignore the growing pulsating feeling of your nether regions. Taking off your haori proved to be useless, as you expected. You would do almost anything to relieve this maddening sensation all over your body and just prayed that Giyuu was in a better position than you right now. What good would it do if you were both like this? You couldn't help but let your mind wander, giving an inkling of attention to the idea of how you both could help each other out.
"I feel like... it's getting worse," Giyuu interrupted your thoughts, his breaths becoming more and more labored as seconds passed on. He scanned the area looking for any signs of life before it hit him that the never-ending forest path you two were stuck in must've been tied to the demon's blood art as well. Although the demon's life had been taken, and all effects should have ceased by now, it still persisted, locking the both of you in a trance-like state, still affecting your perception of your surroundings. Until it wore off, there was no escape for either of you. 
His eyes darted back to you, still full of concern. If he was unable to get you both out of here, he could at least find some way to help you.
"[F/n]. You need to tell me what you're feeling, maybe there's a way to reverse this. But, I don't... I don't remember there being an antidote...," Giyuu was unable to piece any of his thoughts together. It was starting to become increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything at all. Anything other than how... how beautiful you looked right now. Your eyes were trained on the ground, but he still lingered on the way your lashes fluttered open and closed. And the way your pretty lips were agape, sucking in short breaths. Your quiet whimpers triggered something sleeping deep within him, with the sound of your voice making his dick twitch to life in his uniform.
'It can't be....,' a very suggestive thought flickered in Giyuu's mind as he started to vaguely grasp what he was feeling. If the effects of the poison turned out to be what he thought it was, it would be an embarrassingly long amount of hours before the two of you made it out of this forest.
"It's the blood demon art... it's supposed to make you...," You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. You were starting to not trust your own voice. You didn't even know what to say. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him, 'by the way Tomioka, this might be sex dust. we're supposed to start fucking to get rid of it.' Poor dude probably thinks there's an antidote somewhere. Unbeknownst to you, it just clicked in his brain what he needed to do. And as the water Pillar, it was his duty to do what he must to protect others. Especially a friend like you, a beautiful swordswoman at his side.
"It's alright, we can figure this out. I just need you to trust me." He cut you off calmly, moving behind you and leaning against a tree a couple of inches away. 
"Huh? What're you...," you started, squeaking as Giyuu pulled your back taught to his chest in a tight embrace, knees on either side, effectively trapping you. Reaching around to your front, he began indiscriminately popping open the rest of the buttons to your uniform jacket. You were only in your bindings underneath, which barely held up after the intense fight with the demon. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the way he was glued to your backside. You knew the effects of the aphrodisiac had finally caught up to him, feeling him clench his teeth as his jaw was pressed to your temple. He slipped your jacket off, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes on the ground. 
"Hold on!" You wailed, nervousness choking you up completely. What was he doing? There was no way the quiet, stone-cold Giyuu Tomioka would participate in such erotic acts, even if it meant failing to return from a mission. You honestly didn't even think he had it in him to be so boldly sexual. You underestimated the level of carnal lust he had been holding back, simply to not disturb the peace of your friendship.
"I know I can help you, [f/n]. Forgive me," He exhaled, propping a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up toward him. His eyes were a shade darker, but you could see the traces of concern and desperation etched into his features. He leaned forward to lock his lips with yours, snaking a hand behind your head to nestle in your hair. His lips were soft and warm as he kissed you. You hesitated but moved your lips in sync as his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your mouth parted almost immediately, allowing his tongue to enter, tangling with yours. His tongue pushed into your mouth, hotly sucking on yours as he lightly moaned into the kiss. Seconds later, he pulled away with a quiet exhale, drinking in the sight of you with your face flushed and lips now swollen and pink. 
"These need to come off though," he sighed with disapproval, motioning towards your feet.
A hand slid down your leg, lifting it up to slip off your Geta sandal. Reaching over to your other leg, he popped off your remaining shoe.
"Are those...?" his breath was caught in his throat as he trailed his hands up your legs and lifted up your skirt, revealing the thigh-high socks you wore under your uniform.
You groaned as you felt Giyuu's palms slide over the tops of your thighs and slip underneath your uniform skirt, hands finding their way to the cotton material of your socks. 
"And definitely these too..." He sighed by your ear, his voice so deep it almost held a growl.
Your breath hitched as you felt two thumbs hook under your socks, intent on pushing them down your legs. Even in your hazy, lust-drunken state, you realized your socks were still connected to your panties by thin garter clips. By pulling your socks down, he could end up pulling your already-soaked panties down with them. Your resolve was already crumbling in this compromising position, but the risk of being exposed would shatter it completely. You were fighting off this 'poison' the best you could, but Tomioka's heated breath right next to your ear and slowly hardening length against the curve of your ass wasn't making it any easier. 
"G-Giyuu! Enough! 'Hng... you- you can't!" You panted frantically. Your hands wrapped around and strained against both of his wrists, heart thumping wildly as you watched him struggle to inch your socks down. 
"Just... Just let me take these off. You're overheating," Giyuu breathed, lowering his chin into the crook of your right shoulder. "It'll make you feel better... I can make you feel better." 
Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Tomioka found himself somehow falling deeper and deeper into intoxication, the remnants of the perfumed poison wafting off of you in sickly sweet-smelling waves. He couldn't help but inhale your scent deeply, quickly becoming addicted to it. His eyes were low, clouded in a dark lust as he felt his self-control splintering the more you pressed up against him, trying to preserve your dignity and hide your embarrassment. His tongue snaked out from between his lips, dragging a small stripe from the crook of your neck to your ear. He felt you shudder harshly beneath him as he kitten-licked the shell of your ear. 
"Please... you can't..," you whined, your pleas falling on deaf ears as the water Pillar had his way with you, already successfully dragging your socks down more than halfway. Your strength was no match for his, which had you biting your bottom lip frustratedly, feeling the effects of the poison diminish your motivation to resist. You watched as your garters moved down your legs from underneath your skirt, tightly fastened to your panties as they were pulled down with them.
"B-But my underwear-!" You helplessly stammered, as Giyuu lifted one of your legs after the other, slowly peeling the items of clothing off one by one. A patch of wetness could be seen dead in the center of your undergarment and caught his eye immediately as he watched it be pulled along. A trail of your slick coated your thighs, Giyuu's mouth watering at the sight.
"Oh. But you're already so wet down there... just let me help [f/n]... please," he softly groaned into your ear, his voice so desperate, full of need. You shivered as the air hit your barely covered cunt, and you snapped your knees together, trying to conceal yourself the best you could.
"Giyuu..." you started, feeling his large, rough hands slide back up underneath your skirt. Snaking his hand in between your thighs, he spread them open, allowing him more access. There was nothing to separate him from your bare pussy, and he let himself drag a hesitant finger up your quivering slit. A strangled moan escaped you as his fingers gathered your slick, and used it to rub smooth circles around your clit. 
"Oh! Fuck...," you quietly cursed, feeling yourself jerk and twitch from sudden pleasure as Tomioka gave you attention exactly where you needed it the most. You couldn't hide how badly you needed him to touch you, knowing how embarrassingly quick it would be for you to come undone. You arched more into him, lolling your head to the side as his slow circles on your bud brought you deeper into madness. Against your wishes, your hips ground into his fingers and into his erection behind you, chasing your high.
"That's it [f/n], I got you," he purred, moving his other hand that he used to steady your hip to trace your slit once more. You felt a finger breach your entrance, and you grabbed his forearms to steady your jolting body. 
"'Hng,... Ah!" you moaned loudly, gasping as he curled his finger inside your dripping heat, pushing it deeper until he found a spongy spot along your velvety walls. You almost leapt out of his arms, the way he prodded your g-spot so fiercely, your mind melting into a hazy goo, unable to think straight. You were practically immobilized with pleasure, letting out a whine when he added a second finger, and soon a third, stretching you out. His pace around your clit quickened, never faltering even with the added stimulation. Your pussy was drooling around his fingers, the squelching noises so vulgar to your ears. However, it was music to his. 
Tomioka nipped and sucked at your exposed neck, shuddering as your sweet cries reached his ears. You were almost at your limit, he could feel you squeezing sporadically around him. It was almost devilish how much he enjoyed you falling apart in his hands. He just wanted to help you feel better, of course, so happy the way your swollen pussy clung to his fingers. With a few more rubs of your clit, you felt it. The pressure that was steadily building up in your abdomen was careening over the edge. 
"W-Wait! Giyuu...! 'm cumming... gonna...!" You couldn't finish your sentence as the pressure exploded, sending you straight into the clouds. Your eyes rolled upwards, and your pussy spasmed and gushed around his fingers as you came hard. You shook in his arms, quietly cursing and moaning his name. Tomioka continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm, relishing in the way you moaned his name as you came. He was rock hard, his cock straining painfully now against his uniform pants. He wanted nothing more than to feel himself inside you, hoping it could relieve the unbearable sexual frustration you were both suffering from.
As you panted, slowly coming down from your high, Giyuu slipped his hands away from your cunt to tear off his jacket, now allowing the both of you to be skin-to-skin. You still had your bindings halfway on, but you were soaking through your skirt, even creating a damp spot where the curve of your ass met his print. Giyuu had already slipped off his shoes, finding a place for his hands around your waist. You released a shaky breath as you felt his hands rub circles at your sides. 
"Are...are you feeling better?" He asked lowly, peering over your shoulder at the bindings that were slowly unraveling around your tits. His hands mindlessly came up to grope them softly, palming them in slow circles.
"Y-Yes," you breathed, unable to wrap your head around how hard he just made you cum with his fingers. The heat momentarily dwindled, before returning with the stimulation at your chest. You had the shortest window of relief before being reminded that you needed more. It wasn't enough. You needed to help him too, the only way you knew how. His method was working after all. 
"Giyuu... I think I need more," you mumbled, relaxing into his touches. His fingers came up to peel off your bindings, exposing your nipples to the air. He took each one in his index and thumb, lightly pulling and tweaking them. You jerked, shock and pleasure shooting through you. 
He was at your earlobe licking, then sucking and kissing the soft skin down the side of your neck.  
"I know baby, ...how much more? Tell me what you want," he sighed, drunken on how perfect and sexy you were like this. He almost wasn't sure how much of himself was being influenced by the aphrodisiac, you already drove him crazy internally. Eventually, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back anymore. The way you regarded him so sweetly always, he found himself drawn to you, appreciating your friendship. He could only yearn for you, wanting to take you every time your touches lingered on his arm, or sparred with him, or was in his presence. He wanted to show you just how much he wanted you. 
"I want you... to fuck me," you moaned, ignoring how desperate your request may have came out. You just couldn't bear it any longer, you needed him to make you feel good. You needed him inside you until you couldn't think straight.
Giyuu wasted no time and brought his legs in, lifting you into his lap with a strong arm. He turned your head to collide mouths, hastily deepening the kiss. His tongue was back inside your mouth fiercely, mixing your saliva with his, and pulling back a bit to run it over your puffy lips. With an arm still supporting your back, he placed you onto his outstretched haori on the ground, him now on top of you. He broke the kiss, a thin string of spit connecting your lips before snapping. Giyuu slid his hands up the back of your thighs, placing both of your legs over his shoulders. Reaching down, he popped open the buttons of his trousers and hooked his thumb underneath, pulling them down with his undergarments and freeing his cock. You glanced into the space between your bodies, watching as his dick, long and heavy with considerable girth, twitched to life. It slightly curved, and his tip was angrily flushed, precum dribbling from his slit. Your mouth watered a little at the sight. You could feel how big it was from his print, but seeing his dick in all its naked glory was a different story. You were calculating if it would even fit, unaware that Tomioka watched your expression morph into one of dumbfoundedness. He lowered himself, placing an arm next to your head, to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and one on your lips.
"You can take it... right?" He whispered into your ear and gave a tentative roll of his hips, sliding his tip over your slick folds. His cock dipped lightly into and out of your entrance and slipped right over your clit. 
"Ah...! Yes-!" You gasped, feeling the head of his cock breach your entrance. He pushed a few inches into you, your pussy already squeezing him tightly. You felt him groan, drawling out your name in a soft whisper. 
"So fucking... tight...," Tomioka shuddered, tensing up to keep him from creaming inside your needy cunt so quickly. "How could you keep this from me..?" He closed his eyes, enjoying every second his cock slowly pushed an inch inside of you. 
"Ohh...! Keep going p-please!" You babbled, needing him to hurry and fill you up, even if the pressure opening up your little hole was overwhelming. The effects of the poison still craved more and more, having no regard for logic, just urging you to be pounded into. 
"Gods...," he breathed, with quick two thrusts fully splitting you open and seating him deeper than you could have imagined inside you. He stilled for a moment, letting you feel every twitch, as you throbbed around him. You were situated in a mating press, thighs to your chest, as Tomioka angled his hips to kiss his tip at your cervix. Your head reeled from total satisfaction, despite the painful stretch, and your voice was caught in your throat as you felt him, finally, filling up your aching pussy. You almost couldn't get enough of his body being on yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and screwing your eyes shut. Slowly dragging his full length from out your pussy, you felt every vein on his cock as he moved, already whining and nipping at his neck to be stuffed again. He couldn't bare to turn to show you how wide his pupils were blown, beads of sweat forming at his temple as his last strings of self-restraint started to snap. 
"I'm gonna start moving now," Giyuu murmured lowly, almost as a warning to brace yourself.
"H-Hurry, Ngh-!" you cried as he snapped his hips forward, plunging into your velvety heat once more. With a firm grip on your calf, he set a brutal pace, pounding into you with every sharp roll of his pelvis. Your pussy drooled and creamed around him as he rearranged your insides, echoing obscene skin-slapping sounds when his heavy balls met the curve of your ass. 
"Fuck... you keep sucking me in like that...," he hissed, losing himself in your pretty cunt. 
His cock head continually prodded your cervix, constantly rubbing along your g-spot, sending you barreling towards your second release. His head rose to watch your face, long wisps of jet-black hair running awry. He loved watching your tits bounce as he roughly fucked you, the sight fulfilling his most carnal desires. He watched as quiet praises fell from your lips, barely coherent with how cock-drunk you became, and your eyes fluttered open and closed, unable to hold eye contact, your nerves firing off on every end. His eyes flickered to where your two bodies met, eyeing the creamy ring your pussy pushed down the base of his member the deeper he thrust into you. He let out staggered grunts feeling himself approach his high quickly with the way your cunt swallowed his dick relentlessly. He wanted you to cum again, all over his dick this time, and felt the urge to breed his seed deep into you, only if you would let him. His hand abandoned the back of your knee to snake down your abdomen and find its way to your puffy clit. After rubbing several quick circles on your nub, he felt the siren's call of your approaching orgasm, your cunt starting to spasm around his length.  You peered up at him through teary eyes, mouth falling open.
"I-I think I'm... 'm cumming... 'm cumming... fuckk, " you braced yourself as your vision exploded with stars, your mind-numbing climax tearing through you with a strangled cry. Your pussy squirted your release, dripping down your ass and wetting him from his balls to the tops of his thighs. You called out Tomioka's name with a sob as he fucked you steadily through your orgasm. His resolve finally cracked as he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
"Just like that baby... I'm almost... almost there," he stammered, clenching his teeth as he watched you come down exhaustedly, your doe eyes low and tired. 
"Inside... n-need you to cum inside me...," you whispered up at him, using the last of your strength to urge him impossibly deeper. It was such a filthy request that he was more than happy to oblige, as his thrusts morphed into, deep, sultry rolls of his hips. He ground into your cunt a few more times before pushing inside you one last time, his tip spurting warm cum up against your cervix. His body shook, chest heaving hard as he breathed out a string of curses, drowning in the intensity of his climax. You both panted heavily for a moment, feeling the brain fog finally start to dissipate. 
Sliding out of you with a quiet "damn," his eyes locked on your pussy as his own semen spilled from your hole, trailing down your sex. The two of you had just gone at it like rabbits, both sheepishly smiling as Tomioka lowered your aching legs. There were no words to describe how utterly satisfying it was to succumb to the urges of the aphrodisiac.
"I think," you said in between breaths, "We might have to just continue this later... indoors...," suddenly reminded of your place on the forest floor. 
"Yeah, ... I agree."
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bratzforchris · 2 months
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you should do johnnie x fem!reader but she has a christina piercing
Call Me
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*
Summary: A post-breakup piercing turns into something much more
Pairing: Body piercer!Johnnie x feminine reader
Warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, fingering (f), genital piercing
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't write a ton of super in-depth smut because of legality (even though this is au and a fanfic, i try to keep it semi appropriate <3), but if you'd like a part 2, send it in my inbox!!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*
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You had never been a wild girl. Down to have fun? Sure. But never wild. All of that changed today, though, as you walked into your local tattoo and piercing parlor. Having recently gone through a rather messy breakup, you decided the best way to find yourself again was to reclaim your own body. A tattoo had seemed a bit too permanent, whereas ear and nose piercings had seemed too basic. After a bit of research, you had decided on a Christina piercing. Was it a bit out there? Definitely. Then again, no one had to know about it except you and your sexual partners down the line. 
You signed your name in at the front desk, feeling so thankful you didn’t have to put down what kind of piercing you wanted. As excited as you were, that would be too embarrassing for you. You waited, anxiously tapping your leg until a man came from the back and called your name. 
“Y/N?” 
You stood up, meeting him at the door to the back in quick strides. “I’m right here.”
“I’m Johnnie. I’ll be your piercer today. Come on back.” the man nodded, leading you into the studio. 
Whatever you had done to piss off the universe, you regretted it. Not only were you about to have a man pierce your clit, he was hot too. He had the classic emo style that you hadn’t seen anyone in real life wear since like 2008, and tattoos and piercings littered his own skin. You couldn’t help but to stare at his spider bites, wondering what it would feel like to kiss and tug on them. 
“My eyes are up here.” Johnnie joked, leading you into a private room and closing the door. 
‘Fuck, Y/N. Get it together.’ You thought, forcing your eyes to roam up Johnnie’s face to meet his own. That was a mistake, though, because your piercer had the iciest, most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen, rimmed with dark eyeliner that only added to his good looks and complemented his long, black hair. 
“Sorry, I’m a little anxious.” You mumbled, cheeks burning. 
“I understand,” Johnnie smiled kindly. “So, what piercing were you looking to get today?”
“I, um…” You started, but the words got lost in your throat. 
“Let me guess. Nips?” he chuckled. 
You shook your head, embarrassingly flustered and Johnnie’s eyes widened with realization. 
“I see. Well, a Christina is an anatomy based piercing, so I’ll have to assess before I pierce. Is that okay?” he asked, keeping a cool, professional tone. 
You nodded, your cheeks so beyond red both from the conversation and because of how hot Johnnie was. You honestly wished that this was another setting, because you knew he had to remain professional, no matter how badly he or you wanted it. Johnnie politely turned his back while you shimmied out of your pants, knowing there was no going back now. An unfamiliar man was about to see your whole pussy in bright, LED lights and you honestly wished you were more uncomfortable with it. 
Once he had gotten confirmation from you, Johnnie turned around, pulling some black, latex gloves onto his hands. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”
He moved to spread your legs, slowly caressing your inner thighs gently. As Johnnie moved towards your slit, you prayed he wouldn’t notice the dampness that had pooled between your thighs. His gracefully artistic fingers neared your clit and you couldn’t help but to let out a tiny moan at how great it felt. You hadn’t gotten laid in over a month, and you were desperate for an orgasm that wasn’t the product of your hand or battery operated ‘friends’. If Johnnie noticed, he was too polite to say anything. He plucked a flashlight from the medical cart beside him and examined you a bit more. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his fingers lingered on your clit for a moment longer than they should have as you let out another moan. 
“You like that?” he chuckled, seeming to be joking. 
You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you nodded softly, whispering out a “yes.”
Johnnie hummed, coming around the side of the table and whispering in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Tell me, Y/N, are you single? Does your boyfriend know you’re trying to get off on my fingers?”
You blushed, trying to arch into his touch. “I’m single.” You grunted out against the arousal. 
“Thought so,” he smirked. “Better for me.”
Johnnie turned his back to you as he prepped the needle and jewelry, almost in a teasing way. You heard the plastic opening and couldn’t help but to think about the way that would be the sound of Johnnie opening a condom, prepping himself to go inside you. God, you needed to get it together. 
“Are you ready?” he asked you, spreading your legs as he held the needle. 
You nodded, eager to see how Johnnie would do this and how it would look. “I am.”
“Deep breath. 1, 2, 3,” Johnnie inserted the needle, quickly and expertly giving you the Christina piercing you had been looking forward to. “Good girl,” he was practically moaning himself. He quickly cleaned you up, caressing your pussy gently and with loving care. “Took that like a fuckin’ champ.”
You blushed at his praise, your clit throbbing both from the pain and from the arousal. “Thank you.”
Johnnie walked you out of the room and to the front counter for you to pay. You were rather disappointed when he disappeared into the back again as you handed the cash for your piercing to the girl working the front desk. Just as you were about to leave, though, Johnnie opened the door and slid a card across the counter to you. 
“Aftercare instructions.” he winked. 
You flipped the card over as you walked out of the building, only to see a phone number scribbled in messy, black ink on the back with a ‘;)’ and a heart. Somehow, you’d gone in for a piercing, and come out with both a piercing and the desire for a fuck buddy. 
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629 notes · View notes
ledoutdoorlight · 2 years
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