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#tan wolfe in his entirety

theharrowing · 1 year

Text

Sun Seeker 🌞 3: We should make a habit of this

Namjoon does not do impulsive. He doesn’t understand the fuss about body modifications, and he has never considered getting one. That is, until he meets Yoongi—the prettiest man he’s ever seen, who happens to be a tattoo artist—and he can’t stop thinking about going under Yoongi’s needle to have an equally pretty design tattooed onto his skin.

🌻 Namjoon x Yoongi 🌻 word count: 16.3k 🌻 strangers to lovers, tattoo shop au, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+ 🌻 warnings: namjoon in his entirety fit with the lace and mesh shirts, smut! (dirty talk, semi-public oral sex, ass to mouth, anal fingering, frotting, teasing, anal sex, dick piercings, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, safewords, praising, pain kink exploration, semi-public anal sex), fluff! (flirting, confessions), a smidgen of angst (anxiety), getting ears pierced (brief description of needle & piercing). side taekook. 🌻 written for the Namgi World Tour Fest! 🌻 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading! 🌻 posted jan. 2023 | read on ao3

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For their third date, Namjoon wants to wear something nice—something to really knock Yoongi's socks off and make his jaw drop. It is for this reason that Namjoon has been standing in his closet with his hands in his hair, stressing the fuck out. He needs to call in reinforcements.

Namjoon Are you busy?

Namjoon is an appreciator of art, and he likes to think he knows which colors go well with others, and which do not. But putting an outfit together—color, form, material—it eludes him. He wishes he had the same eye as Taehyung.

Tae Tae 🎁 You literally just saw me three hours ago. Obsessed, much???

Namjoon Some best friend you are.

Tae Tae 🎁 Fine, you win! What is needed of me, best friend?

Namjoon I'm stressing out about what to wear.

Tae Tae 🎁 To the club? Wear anything.

Namjoon "Anything" to me is not the same as "anything" to you. You could wear a sheet with a belt wrapped around it, and you would look put together.

Tae Tae 🎁 That's not a bad idea...🤔

Namjoon Tae, I'm serious.

Tae Tae 🎁 Me too. I have a floral sheet that might look great with my knockoff Gucci belt.

Namjoon You're impossible.

Tae Tae 🎁 Hush, now. I'll save you. Give us 20.

Namjoon Us?

Tae Tae 🎁 Yes, us. Jeongguk and I are a package deal now.

Namjoon Fine. See you in 20.

"This is too much," Namjoon whines as he stares at his reflection. He looks good—damn good, if he is being honest. But he has never dressed in anything like this before, and it makes him feel nervous.

"Nonsense!" Taehyung exclaims as he holds various silver necklaces up to Namjoon's neck and cocks his head side to side, trying to choose one. "You look fucking hot. Yoongi is going to die."

"Killing Yoongi is not the goal," Namjoon grumbles as he nibbles the inside of his lip.

Taehyung waves Namjoon off and shakes his head, then holds the whole bunch of necklaces up as if deciding that he wants Namjoon to wear all of them. Which, Namjoon thinks, is ridiculous. Except, Taehyung drapes all of them over Namjoon's wrist—which he has taken the liberty of grabbing and positioning where he wants it—and unclasps them one by one to wrap around Namjoon's neck.

As soon as Taehyung takes a step back and studies his hard work, Namjoon has the overwhelming urge to tear at the clothing and jewelry and start over. He feels like a fraud staring at his reflection, and he hovers his palms over the yellow lace long-sleeve button-up shirt that Taehyung has left halfway unbuttoned and tucked into black jeans, which have been distressed with bleach, he assumes, leaving horizontal tan streaks down the length. But the real kicker is the white mesh shirt underneath, covered in silver sequins, which shows—in all of its somewhat sculpted glory—Namjoon's chest.

Namjoon had already felt self-conscious about the shirt upon first trying it on, and Taehyung wolf-whistling while exclaiming, "Mesh on top of big, beefy tits, what a gift," certainly did not help.

"This...isn't me," Namjoon mutters, feeling more apprehensive the longer he stares at himself.

"Nonsense," Taehyung insists, reaching around with both hands from behind Namjoon to delicately part his bangs over his forehead. Namjoon is used to Taehyung being in his personal space and fucking with his hair, and he does not flinch.

"I'm sure Jeongguk is outfitting Yoongi in just as devastating of an ensemble as we speak."

Evidently, when Taehyung informed Jeongguk that they were going to play dress-up with Namjoon, Jeongguk had the brilliant idea to dress Yoongi, claiming he also seemed pretty nervous about their date. Namjoon finds the notion of Yoongi being nervous both hard to believe and incredibly endearing. He likes the idea of Yoongi fussing over his hair and clothes, and he blushes at the thought of him getting flustered and grumbly when Jeongguk recommends something too outlandish, presuming he and Taehyung have similar ideas.

Namjoon opens his mouth to ask when they are going to finally leave for the club when a loud ping comes from Taehyung's phone, which is sitting on his bed. A smile creeps over Taehyung's lips, but he finishes what he is doing—using his pinkies to place the hairs over Namjoon's forehead just so.

"You look stunning," Taehyung beams as his hands fall to Namjoon's shoulders. "I have a jacket you can throw over this, too, so you don't walk into the club feeling instantly self-conscious."

"That's a relief," Namjoon responds, looking at his friend in the reflection, who rests his chin on the hand that sits on Namjoon's shoulder.

Taehyung is somewhat dressed down for his style, in a plain white tee tucked into mustard slacks with a thick leather belt around his waist. Draped over the edge of the bed is a black blazer covered in lilies that resemble a watercolor painting in bright reds, deep blues, and inviting greens, which he plans to wear to bring the look together.

Namjoon puts on a black bomber jacket, but he knows that if he zips it up, Taehyung will give him hell. Still, it is pretty obvious that he is wearing two layers of see-through material, and he hopes that whatever Jeongguk has dressed Yoongi in is somehow more over the top than what Taehyung has put him in, just to ease his mind.

His hopes are thwarted, however, when they show up to the club, only to find that Yoongi's outfit is pretty standard.

"Great work, Gguk, but...a white tee? Really?" Taehyung mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jeongguk—dressed predictably in a black tank top tucked into black slacks that are accessorized with a chunky black leather belt—blushes as he slings a black jacket over his shoulder and gives Taehyung a forlorn expression. "He threatened to cut my mesh shirt into strips if I brought it near him."

"Hyung!" Taehyung scowls, turning his focus on Yoongi, who Namjoon realizes is staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

Yoongi blinks as if he has just been pulled from another dimension, and turns his attention to Taehyung long enough to mutter, "S-sorry, did you say something?" before returning his gaze to Namjoon, and Taehyung laughs it off, clearly giving up on complaining.

And it is not as if Jeongguk didn't do a good job. Sure, Yoongi is in a plain white tee, but it hugs him perfectly, showing hints of the muscle beneath it, and it is tucked into the tightest black jeans Namjoon has ever seen. The ends of the jeans disappear under tall black boots, making Yoongi's already slender legs appear longer and thinner, and he wears a blue bomber jacket and a cute, black beret.

If someone were to ask Namjoon before how he felt about the beret as a fashion accessory, he would probably have shrugged and said he had no opinion. But seeing Yoongi donning one with his pretty, overgrown dark brown hair pulled away from his face, showing off his forehead, piercings, and neck tattoo in all of their glory, Namjoon thinks that perhaps the humble beret is his favorite invention to date.

Both Namjoon and Yoongi stare at one another while the overwhelming sights and sounds of the club blare brightly and loudly around them. Fingers snapping in Namjoon's face pull his attention to his very impatient best friend, who gives him an incredulous glare.

"Drinks?" Taehyung asks.

"Yes," Namjoon responds, incapable of thinking about anything beyond the general idea of having a drink.

"Preference?" Taehyung asks a bit more sharply.

Namjoon shakes his head. "N-no. I don't know. Just...whatever you guys have."

With a scoff, Taehyung mutters, "I'll bring you whatever Jeongguk orders for Yoongi," as he makes his way from the table to the bar. Jeongguk follows behind, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi alone, and Namjoon finally finds the ability to move his limbs in order to approach Yoongi and pull him into a hug. Woody musk and a hint of citrus fill Namjoon's nose, and he inhales deeply.

"Taehyung put you in lace," Yoongi mutters slowly as if caught in a trance. "And mesh."

Namjoon chuckles, feeling his apprehension somewhat melt away from the attention Yoongi is giving him. He responds, "I'm disappointed I don't get to see you in mesh," earning a scoff from Yoongi.

They pull out of the hug and take two seats on one side of the table, rotating their bodies to face one another. Their knees bump, and both men chuckle until they get lost in each other's eyes, and the laughter dies.

Yoongi has a light dusting of black eye shadow outlining his eyes, and silver hoops in his ears, and Namjoon blurts out, "You are so fucking pretty," as his eyes struggle to decide where to look.

"I'm pretty?" Yoongi asks as he pushes Namjoon's jacket open to expose more lace and mesh. "You're...I mean...seriously, Joon. I feel like it's my birthday."

"Stop," Namjoon mutters, feeling self-conscious as his cheeks warm.

"I can't believe I get you all to myself later, and you come dressed like this."

"Hyung," Namjoon whines, but the thought of Yoongi running his hands over his mesh-covered pecs does excite him quite a bit.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and smirks. "If I didn't want our first time to be so special I would drag you into the bathroom right now."

The sound of a glass being set on the table makes both men flinch, and Namjoon turns to find Taehyung looking at them with a surprised expression, and Jeongguk pursing his lips together while he looks anywhere but at the two men seated in front of them.

"And they say romance is dead," Taehyung chides as he sits down and slides two glasses of what appears to be whiskey to Namjoon and Yoongi. "There's quite a bit to unpack, hyung. Where to begin, where to begin?"

"Thanks for the drink, Tae," Namjoon shouts as he grabs his glass, sniffs to confirm it is whiskey, and takes a gulp. The caramel color liquid burns slightly as it coats his tongue, and he can't help but cringe as he adjusts to the flavor.

"The bathrooms here are surprisingly clean," Taehyung continues as he sits across from Namjoon. "And the ones upstairs are individual rooms, in case you want some privacy."

"Alright, Taehyungah," Yoongi says in an annoyed grumble, despite the look of amusement that tugs at his lips.

Jeongguk settles at the table across from Yoongi, and everyone drinks. In an attempt to change the topic, Namjoon asks Yoongi how long he has been tattooing, and Yoongi blushes as he mutters, "Since I was 15," taking him by surprise.

"It started as little stick-and-pokes, and occasionally one of my cousins would let me tattoo oranges with his equipment. When I got older, I bought a machine and apprenticed under the same cousin, and the rest was history."

"He was piercing, too," Jeongguk adds, "before I came along and freed up his schedule so he could only tattoo."

"Is that so?" Namjoon asks with a raise of his eyebrow, and Yoongi nods.

Namjoon's eyes flit between Yoongi's eyebrow, ears and lip. "How many piercings do you have, hyung?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, and he nibbles on his lip, looking away from Namjoon. If Namjoon is not mistaken, Yoongi seems embarrassed by the question, which has Namjoon's mind absolutely racing.

"Hyung?" Namjoon presses, nudging Yoongi with his elbow.

Yoongi picks up his drink, holds it to his lips, and mutters something under his breath before taking a drink. Unsure what he said, Namjoon leans in close, looking between a shy Yoongi, an amused Jeongguk, and a confused Taehyung.

"What was that, hyung? I missed it."

With a loud clearing of his throat, Yoongi turns toward Namjoon, eyes looking down at the drink in his hands, and says, "Twelve."

"Twelve?" Namjoon repeats, counting the piercings he can see—two in each ear, one in his eyebrow, and one in his lip—then begins to imagine where else a piercing could be. "Interesting, because I only count six."

The dim lighting of the club paired with rainbow lights flitting all over makes it hard for Namjoon to see the blush that he imagines is turning Yoongi's cheeks a pretty shade. He curses the unfortunate circumstance, determined to tease Yoongi into spilling the beans, anyway.

Yoongi chugs back the rest of his whiskey and stands in a rush, asking, "Anyone else need another drink?"

"Now, now," Namjoon says, reaching for Yoongi's hand and holding it tightly. "This conversation is still in full swing."

With an incredulous glare, Yoongi stares down at Namjoon. Then, with a huff, he sits. "My nipples and my belly button are pierced," he blurts out, avoiding eye contact with Namjoon, who chuckles.

"And you have two rings in each, I presume?" Namjoon asks with a smirk.

Yoongi shakes his head—small, quick movements—biting back a smile. "You presume incorrectly."

"I can't believe hyung is too shy to tell his new boyfriend that he has his dick pierced," Jeongguk blurts, making Taehyung gasp.

At this piece of information, the world comes to a screeching halt. Namjoon's mouth falls agape—brain absolutely empty of thought—and he stares at Yoongi, who shifts around in his seat, glaring at Jeongguk with a deadly look.

Jeongguk giggles into his drink while Taehyung mutters, "Whoa, for real?"

When Namjoon continues to stare at Yoongi in a daze, Yoongi reaches over and smacks Namjoon on the arm, whining, "It's perfectly normal to have a dick piercing!"

"Is it?" Namjoon asks through a chuckle.

This time, Yoongi's mouth falls open, and he stares at Namjoon as he shifts around in his chair with a huff. "Don't shame me!"

"I'm not shaming you, hyung," Namjoon defends, "I've just never seen a dick piercing before."

"Well," Jeongguk chimes in—helpful as ever, "Technically two dick piercings and one on his balls."

"Your b—" Namjoon begins, struggling to finish the sentence.

Yoongi's expression darkens, and he smirks playfully, asking, "Wanna see?"

Of all the things that might count as moving too quickly and possibly technically breaking the three-date rule, grabbing Yoongi by the hand and asking Taehyung exactly where the upstairs bathrooms with locking doors are located is probably high on that list. Namjoon, however, does want to see these piercings, and he takes his eyes off Yoongi only long enough to slam back his whiskey.

"Tae, where are those bathrooms?" Namjoon asks, turning back to Yoongi, whose expression is a priceless wide-eyed mix of shock and excitement.

"Up the stairs, to the left, all the way back," Taehyung supplies.

Namjoon takes Yoongi's hand and stands, tugging Yoongi to his feet as he snakes past clubgoers who mingle near the bar. As they scale the steps, Namjoon's heart pounds heavily, aided by the thud of the bass booming too loudly in his ears.

The upstairs bar is crowded, but to Namjoon's delight, there seems to be nobody waiting for either of the gender neutral bathrooms, and he taps the door to the nearest one open with his foot, turning on the light and pulling Yoongi inside.

Yoongi appears out of breath as he enters the room, leaning into the door to close it behind him. As soon as Namjoon locks the door, Yoongi reaches to his neck and pulls him close, licking over his lips and groaning when Namjoon gives him access. Kissing Yoongi ignites something in Namjoon, and he crowds his space, grabbing his face gently as their tongues glide over one another. Namjoon nibbles on the metal hoop in Yoongi's lip until he whines, and when they pull out of the kiss, Namjoon lets his hands fall to Yoongi's shoulders, with his eyes on his pretty spit-slick lips.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asks, rubbing his hands over Namjoon's shoulders and chest.

Namjoon gently takes the collar of Yoongi's jacket in both hands and opens it just enough to reveal his pecs. Sure enough, under the white shirt, Namjoon can spot two bumps where each nipple is, indicating barbells through each one.

"You're full of surprises," Namjoon groans, feeling dizzy from this revelation. "How did I never notice?"

"I had silicon retainers in before, so they didn't show through my clothing, and you probably wouldn't have felt them." Yoongi responds with a sly smile.

"So you put these in tonight, for me to discover?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi grins, nodding his head.

One of Namjoon's hands falls, and with his index finger, he rubs over Yoongi's belly until he lands on another set of metal balls. Yoongi gathers his shirt in both hands, untucking it in the front, and lifts the fabric enough for Namjoon to see a simple silver bar in his bellybutton. Namjoon swoons.

Suddenly, the realization that Namjoon dragged Yoongi into a public bathroom to look at his dick settles over him, and he begins to feel a little foolish. He swallows a lump and studies Yoongi, who seems to pick up on his anxiety and cocks his head.

"I just pulled you into the bathroom to see your piercings without considering how nerve-wracking it might be to show them to me," Namjoon admits.

"I offered," Yoongi responds with a smirk.

"But were you serious?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi chuckles, nibbles on his lip, then begins to slowly unbuckle his belt. "It's not like I wasn't planning on letting you see them tonight, anyway."

Suddenly, the fluorescent lighting is too bright, and the smell of cleaning products is too strong. But Namjoon does not want to be anywhere but in this small, disorienting room with Yoongi.

"Are you sure you wanna see?" Yoongi asks one more time, and Namjoon takes a deep breath as he nods and mutters, "Yes. Please."

Yoongi's belt falls open, and his mesmerizing hands go to work undoing his fly. Once his pants are undone, Namjoon sees a hint of tight, dark blue briefs, and his mouth begins to water as his stomach swoops. He is really going to see Yoongi's dick, right here in this bathroom, and he cannot come to terms with it.

"You look scared," Yoongi says as he reaches into his briefs.

Namjoon looks up at Yoongi's face, then down at his crotch, and shakes his head. "Just struggling to comprehend reality, but I am very much not scared," he mumbles.

Yoongi chuckles, then pulls his briefs down, and Namjoon sees two of the piercings—a circular ring right where the base of his dick and his scrotum meet, and a barbell on the underside of Yoongi's length. Then, Yoongi moves his hand down, gripping his shaft loosely, and Namjoon sees the final piercing. A thick, metal ring sticks through the head of Yoongi's cock—in through the hole and out just below the crown.

"Wow," is all Namjoon can say, not only because he has never seen pierced genitals before, but because Yoongi's cock is out in the open, slowly enlarging with blood.

Without thinking, Namjoon drops to his knees and stares up at Yoongi, whose eyes widen as big as saucers as they follow his movement.

"Y-Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon mutters as his pulse echoes loudly in his ears.

"Yes, Joon?"

"May I—I mean—I really want—" Namjoon swallows a lump and Yoongi chuckles.

"What is it?"

Namjoon looks up a Yoongi through his eyelashes as he asks, "May I suck your dick?"

Yoongi huffs out a heavy breath and nods as he begins slowly stroking his length, but Namjoon reaches up and gently takes Yoongi by the wrist, stopping the movement.

"I want to feel you get hard in my mouth," he says, smiling with delight as Yoongi lets out a quiet gasp.

Namjoon sits high on his knees and rubs his hands up and down Yoongi's thighs, feeling the slightly scratchy denim under his fingertips. Yoongi watches with a somewhat dazed expression as Namjoon with his mouth close, waiting for Yoongi to consent one more time.

"Please don't make me beg," Yoongi breathes.

Namjoon grins, then leans forward and licks a strip from the scrotal piercing, over the bar in his shaft, up to the ring in the head, gently teasing the cold, hard steel with the tip of his tongue. A deep moan leaves Yoongi's lips, and Namjoon has to hold back making a sound of his own—feeling arousal flutter from just his voice alone.

"So after we get out of here, and you take me back to your place to fuck me," Namjoon says between flicks of his tongue over the large metal ring, "will I be able to feel these?"

"Yes," Yoongi moans.

The feeling that washes over Namjoon is intoxicating—warmth covers him from head to toe, tingling. Arousal courses through him like oxygen, and he very desperately wants Yoongi to bend him over and show him precisely how these piercings feel inside him.

Without another word, Namjoon opens his mouth and swallows Yoongi's semi-hard length. Yoongi gasps and groans, hips trembling and jerking forward, and Namjoon breathes through the urge to gag, feeling a bit rusty after not having a cock between his lips for longer than he would care to admit—not to mention the intrusive feeling of having a metal ring hit his throat adding to the sensation. It does not take long for him to adjust, and he begins slurping and sucking, letting drool fall past his lips and make a big fucking mess as Yoongi hardens—thick and heavy on his tongue.

"Your mouth feels incredible," Yoongi groans, gripping Namjoon by the hair and gently thrusting his hips.

Namjoon moans as he sucks Yoongi eagerly, unconcerned about Yoongi's hips pressing him in just a little too deep. The metal barbell in Yoongi’s shaft tugs occasionally on Namjoon’s bottom lip. It doesn’t hurt, but it does feel strange enough to make him want to giggle, which he does his best to hold in.

Outside, someone knocks on the door, and Yoongi moans, "Occupied," as his fingers tug harder on Namjoon's hair.

"You're gonna make me cum," Yoongi mutters softly, and Namjoon slowly sucks Yoongi all the way to the tip, releasing his lips long enough to say, "Good," before sinking back down.

Yoongi trembles and softly moans as he gets closer, and Namjoon sucks in his cheeks, feeling impatient and wanting to taste his release. Luckily, Namjoon's desire is granted quickly, and Yoongi grips onto his hair and gasps shaky breaths, muttering, "I'm cuming," moments before thick, salty liquid hits Namjoon's tongue and slides down his throat.

"Holy fuck," Yoongi groans as Namjoon continues to gently suck, milking him of every drop. The tugging on his hair gets harder as Yoongi whimpers, "Joon you're gonna fucking kill me,"

As Namjoon clearly stated earlier, killing Yoongi is not the goal, so he releases Yoongi's cock, sitting back on his heels while he licks his lips. Yoongi bends, takes Namjoon's cheeks in his hands and kisses him deeply, groaning as his tongue strokes over Namjoon's.

"You're insane," Yoongi mutters, letting go of Namjoon's face to tuck himself back into his pants.

"Insanely attracted to you," Namjoon responds with a grin, knowing precisely how cheesy he sounds.

"Your lips are pink and swollen, Joonie. You look like you've been sucking dick."

Namjoon chuckles and begins to stand, groaning as his legs protest after being bent against hard tile. "I can't imagine why I would look like that."

Yoongi advances, pushing Namjoon by the hips until his ass hits the sink, and their bodies are pressed together. Namjoon was too distracted by pleasuring Yoongi to worry about the erection in his jeans, but with Yoongi standing flush against his body, it is all he can think about.

"We should get out of his bathroom," Yoongi mutters, and Namjoon nods in agreement. "But your dick is hard."

Namjoon shrugs. "It's fine. I'll walk it off."

"How soon until we can get out of here so I can repay the favor?" Yoongi asks, mouth dragging across Namjoon's lips.

Namjoon hums and attempts to give it some serious thought, but his brain feels short-circuited. "One more drink?" he suggests after a moment.

"Perfect," Yoongi groans, sucking Namjoon's bottom lip gently between his teeth until Namjoon whimpers into his mouth, releasing with a deadly smile.

People are waiting in the hallway when they exit, and Namjoon ducks his head down, avoiding eye contact as a smile tugs on his lips. He has never been with someone who would initiate, much less agree to semi-public sex, and he wonders what other exciting, experimental things he and pretty, spontaneous Yoongi might do together.

Yoongi holds Namjoon's hand as they approach the upstairs bar and order two more glasses of whiskey, then they continue to hold hands all the way downstairs, to where their friends are waiting. Taehyung takes one look at Namjoon and gasps, and Jeongguk grins, asking, "Have fun?"

Namjoon hums and nods, and Yoongi shrugs, muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about," causing everyone, including himself, to laugh.

"How was the bathroom?" Taehyung asks.

"Clean," Namjoon says, and Yoongi hums in agreement.

"Well, the floor was clean,” Namjoon continues. “I didn't really see anything else."

Yoongi smacks Namjoon on the arm as Taehyung and Jeongguk share a knowing glance, and Namjoon lifts his drink to his lips and smiles.

"We're gonna head out after this drink," Yoongi announces.

Namjoon half expects Taehyung to whine about them leaving so soon, but instead, he says, "I'm surprised you came back at all. I was expecting a good night text to come through any minute."

“Wow, you really thought I would bail on you?” Namjoon teases, feigning being hurt as he takes a seat, hand still held tight by Yoongi.

“Well, you got a tattoo, which is something I never thought you would do,” Taehyung responds incredulously. “And you…examined the bathroom floor…whatever that—I don’t want—“

Jeongguk waves Taehyung off, shushing him, and Namjoon can’t help but chuckle. He has been stepping far out of his comfort zone lately, and it feels good.

“So,” Jeongguk says with a grin that Namjoon recognizes as pure mischief, “what do you think of hyung’s piercings?”

Taehyung flails, attempting to shush Jeongguk by holding a hand over his mouth, but the youngest is undeterred.

“What?” Jeongguk half-shouts. “Those are my handiwork! I want to know if Namjoon-hyung thinks I did a good job!”

At this, Namjoon laughs hard, squeezing Yoongi’s hand and holding tightly to his drink so that it doesn’t spill. Tears threaten his eye line, and his chest rocks. What Jeongguk said was not even that funny, but Namjoon just feels so elated, anything might set him off.

“You did very well, Jeonggukah,” Namjoon finally says, sneaking a glance at a very amused Yoongi. “Excellent craftsmanship.”

“Alright,” Yoongi grumbles, clearly done with the conversation as he tugs on Namjoon’s hand.

Namjoon continues to chuckle but manages to drink some of his whiskey. The music in the club is loud, overproduced, and technically not very interesting, but the beat continues to boom in time with Namjoon’s pulse, and he is glad to be right where he is, with all three menaces in his presence.

Taehyung and Jeongguk finish their drinks and get up to get another round. As soon as they turn to the bar, Yoongi leans close, pressing his lips to Namjoon’s neck.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he grumbles against Namjoon’s skin.

“I honestly can’t either,” Namjoon responds with a smile, turning to stare into sharp but soft eyes. “You make me want to be impulsive.”

Yoongi stares at Namjoon, cracking a soft smile. “Does that worry you?”

Truth be told, it does worry Namjoon a little. But not because he does not trust himself to make good choices. All that worries him is that he might be too swept up in a whirlwind of Yoongi, only to crash back to earth harder than he could possibly imagine. But, all of these concerns have already been aired, and Namjoon does not want to drudge them back up at a time like this, so he smiles and says, “Only a little.”

“We can take it slow—“ Yoongi begins.

Namjoon squeezes Yoongi’s hand and shakes his head. “I don’t want to take it slow with you. I want all of you, as soon as possible.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash, and he lifts his drink, gulping half of it down. Namjoon drinks some of his, as well, feeling the warmth of the liquor settle in his chest as excitement begins to gently but insistently quake through him.

“What you said in the bathroom,” Yoongi says, leaning so close, Namjoon can only see a Yoongi-tone blur from the corner of his eye. “You want me to fuck you?”

Namjoon nods and turns his head so he can look into Yoongi’s eyes. “If that works for you.”

“That does work for me,” Yoongi responds with a grin.

Namjoon takes two big gulps of his whiskey, finishing it. His mouth and throat feel thick and heavy, with a bitter taste, and he exhales through it as he sets his glass down. Yoongi finishes his drink and places his glass beside Namjoon’s, and they glance around for their friends, finding them still at the bar.

Without a word spoken between them, Namjoon stands and pulls Yoongi toward the boys. They squeeze through a small crowd and pull Taehyung and Jeongguk into a hug once they finish placing their order with the bartenders.

“Have fun but be safe,” Jeongguk says with a stern look.

“Text us when you get home,” Taehyung adds.

“Yes, dad,” Namjoon and Yoongi grumble at once—Namjoon finding it hard to keep a grin off his face.

Taehyung and Jeongguk collect their drinks and walk toward the dance floor, trailing Namjoon and Yoongi, who have to pass that area to get to the exit. With one more wave goodbye near the edge of the writhing throng of bodies, Taehyung places a hand on his heart and shouts, “They grow so fast.”

Jeongguk sighs, mimicking Taehyung, shouting, “I’m so proud of our boys.”

Yoongi stands so close to Namjoon that the bounce of his shoulders can be felt, and Namjoon laughs, tugging Yoongi outside.

“Those little shits,” Yoongi grumbles once they are out on the sidewalk.

Namjoon lets go of Yoongi's hand and wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him close, humming in agreement. Yoongi snakes an arm around Namjoon’s waist, and Namjoon could swear the spot under his large, warm hand tingles from the touch. The club is close enough to their neighborhood that they fall into step toward Yoongi’s place; nobody bothered to drive.

“I wonder what other firsts I can get you to do,” Yoongi muses, turning his pretty smile to Namjoon.

With a hum, Namjoon shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“I’m still a certified piercer,” Yoongi suggests with wide eyes, swimming with mirth.

Namjoon glances between Yoongi and the sidewalk ahead, and scoffs. “I don’t think I need a piercing, hyung.”

“Not even your ears? You’d look good with some silver hoops.”

Warmth blooms over Namjoon, covering him like a hug. Even if he is not sold on the idea of piercings in his own ears, he likes Yoongi telling him he would look good.

“Already trying to get us to match, hyung?” Namjoon teases.

Yoongi chuckles and squeezes Namjoon’s side. “I guess that’s something only couples do.”

Unsure what to say, Namjoon hums and keeps his eyes ahead. With his tendency to jump too fast and fall too hard, he hesitates to comment on a timeline for them to become a couple.

They stop at a corner and wait for the walk sign to grant them permission to cross the street, and Yoongi leans and smacks a kiss against Namjoon’s cheek, making Namjoon flinch and turn to find him smiling brightly.

“We’ll get there,” Yoongi says. “And when we do, we’ll be the cutest in our couples outfits.”

Namjoon can’t help but grin. “Is that so?”

With a lift of his eyebrows, Yoongi nods. Namjoon resists the urge to kiss him silly—to say fuck it and ask him right in this moment if he would like to make it official.

But the light changes and Yoongi takes his hand once more and tugs him across the street. It takes Namjoon a few steps to pick his feet up properly, and he stumbles as he traverses, doing his best to keep up. It could be the whiskey, but it is more likely Yoongi who is intoxicating him, and he does his best to get his balance.

"Drunk, Joon?" Yoongi teases, glancing back when their feet hit the curb.

Namjoon feels winded, like he has just run a marathon, and he tugs Yoongi close, pulling a low grunt from him. "You make me dizzy, hyung."

Yoongi sucks his lips between his teeth before releasing them with a shy smile. "Pretty sure that's from the whiskey."

With an adamant shake of his head, Namjoon lets his gaze trail from Yoongi's eyes, down to his lips, and back. "It's you."

Yoongi falters—hesitates as if he has something to say or do—but then he squeezes Namjoon's hand and continues to yank him along. They are already so close to Yoongi's apartment, Namjoon is starting to feel nervous. Nervous, but also more excited than he has been for anything before.

As Yoongi's apartment comes into view just over a block away, Namjoon's hand starts to sweat. The night air is just chilly enough to make him shiver, but where Yoongi's palm rests snugly against his, the skin tingles with warmth. If Yoongi notices, he does not seem to mind, just holds Namjoon tightly, rubbing his thumb gently over his skin. Namjoon wonders if he is just as nervous.

"I think it's nice how we paired off," Yoongi says softly.

Namjoon glances at him, finding Yoongi looking ahead with a small smile on his lips. Yoongi turns briefly to lock eyes with Namjoon, and his smile widens.

"What do you mean?"

"Taehyung and Jeongguk. They're both younger and are very similar in personality. Eccentric. But sometimes, they're like the sun and the moon. Taehyung is bright and sweet, and Jeongguk is dark and moody."

Namjoon hums, smile tugging at his lips as he watches the sidewalk before him.

"And then there's us," Yoongi continues, making Namjoon turn to look at him again. "I'm the Jeongguk and you're the Taehyung."

Namjoon chuckles and squeezes Yoongi's hand. "I was going to say the opposite."

"Really?" Yoongi asks through a chuckle.

"Remember how emo I was on date two? I feel like I'm the dark and brooding moon and you're the bright sun."

After a pause, Yoongi says softly, "So I'm the sun you seek."

This stops Namjoon in his tracks, turning to Yoongi as his heart pounds wildly in his chest. The thought has crossed his mind before, but it is such a large, profound thing to voice aloud that it takes Namjoon's mind a moment to catch up.

"I suppose you are," Namjoon responds, voice breathier than usual.

Yoongi crowds Namjoon's space, gently taking him by the cheek and slotting their lips together. It is less of a kiss and more an exchange of oxygen, warm whiskey-sweet breath passing from one to another.

"I hope I can continue to shine for you, then," Yoongi mutters against Namjoon's lips.

Namjoon grins, eyes open and watching Yoongi's pretty lips. "I will need at least six hours of direct sunlight a day in order to thrive."

At this, Yoongi smiles widely in return, rubbing his blunt fingernails gently along the column of Namjoon's neck. "Only six?"

With a gentle peck to Yoongi's lips, Namjoon continues their trek, tugging him across the vacant street and to the steps of their destination. Yoongi takes the lead, unlocking the front door and tugging him along, toward the elevator. Once the silver doors slide closed, Yoongi steps in front of Namjoon and gently, firmly, shoves him into the corner, standing with his smirking lips only an inch away.

"Are you ready, Joon?"

Namjoon's pulse quickens, and he stares into Yoongi's eyes, doing his best to breathe. "I am," he responds through a shaky breath.

"Are you sure?"

The elevator dings, but Yoongi does not move, so Namjoon leans in, and captures Yoongi's bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking until the older whines. "I was the one who dropped to my knees earlier, remember?"

"I remember," Yoongi groans.

The elevator doors begin to close and Namjoon steps forward, pushing Yoongi backward, so he can reach for the button to reopen them, crowding Yoongi's space. "Shall we?"

Yoongi leans forward and smacks a loud kiss to Namjoon's lips before spinning and pulling him toward the apartment, causing Namjoon to stumble forward once again, simultaneously light and heavy on his feet as excitement vibrates from limb to limb. The familiar smell of citrus and cedar hits Namjoon's nose the moment Yoongi's door opens, and he takes in a deep breath as he crosses the threshold.

Namjoon enters the apartment, steps from his shoes, and gently places them near the small pile of Yoongi's sneakers. Yoongi's tall boots have zippers up the side, and he wastes no time stepping out of them and tossing them aside.

With a deep oof, Namjoon's back is pressed against the door, which closes loudly behind them, reminiscent of the first time he entered this apartment. Yoongi advances quickly, hands on Namjoon's neck and chest, pushing at skin and tugging at fabric as he kisses sloppy and eager. Namjoon melts against the door, slowly pushing at the collar of Yoongi's bomber jacket until the older helps him remove it—hands leaving Namjoon's chest only long enough for the garment to hit the floor.

"I want you so badly," Yoongi whines into Namjoon's mouth, and Namjoon grins.

"Really? I couldn't tell."

Yoongi yanks Namjoon away from the door from the collar of his jacket, forcing him to take a step forward just enough for him to shrug it away and let it hit the floor. He groans, "Shut up," against Namjoon's lips, making him chuckle.

"So feisty," Namjoon teases, rubbing his palms over Yoongi's chest, feeling the metal bars under fabric.

Yoongi hisses and hums from the touch, sparking Namjoon to rub his thumbs in circles over the hardened buds. More deep, dulcet sounds pour into Namjoon's mouth, and he has to fight the urge to turn into a puddle right there.

"Is my hyung this sensitive?"

"F-feels good," Yoongi whines.

Namjoon drops his hands to where Yoongi's shirt is tucked into his jeans, and he begins to tug. Yoongi complies, lifting his hands to allow Namjoon to yank the white fabric away, taking the beret with it. As the fabric falls to the floor and Yoongi's arms return to his sides, Namjoon takes in the sight of him.

Pretty pale skin covered in flowers, snakes, and bones; taut, toned muscle; shiny metal accents. Yoongi is breathtaking.

Namjoon grabs Yoongi by the belt loops and tugs him close, then bends and flicks his tongue over one of the nipple piercings. The deep, needy moan that falls from Yoongi's mouth is sinful, and Namjoon licks firmer, slower, warming the cold metal with his spit.

Fingers brush through Namjoon's hair and grip, tugging gently at the strands, urging him not to stop. Namjoon drags his lips along the expanse of Yoongi's chest, leaving lazy wet kisses in his wake before his tongue finds the other nipple, flicking and teasing while Yoongi whimpers and groans. There is a faint, heady sweetness to Yoongi's skin, and Namjoon finds it addicting.

"Let's go to my room, Namjoonah," Yoongi whines.

Namjoon teases Yoongi just a bit more, then straightens out. "What's the matter? Am I making you weak in the knees, hyung?"

Yoongi's pupils are blown, and there is a hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver through Namjoon. "Maybe you are."

Namjoon bends and wraps his arms around Yoongi's thighs, lifting him with ease, and Yoongi gasps and wraps his arms around Namjoon's neck. Carefully and slowly, Namjoon makes his way through the dark apartment with only the golden glow of streetlights filtering in from outside to guide him.

"Tell me the way, hyung."

Yoongi chuckles and nuzzles his face in Namjoon's neck. "Turn left, last door."

As Namjoon reaches a small entryway just past the living room, he notices a door to the right, a bathroom straight ahead, and, just to the left, a door at the end of the short hallway, on the right-hand side.

Yoongi presses slow, wet kisses to Namjoon's neck as he approaches, tapping the door open gently with his toe, then Yoongi reaches for a switch on the wall as they enter, turning the light on just enough that they can see. The room is tidy, with more artwork on the walls like pieces in the living room. In the far corner is a bed covered in blood red and burgundy fabrics, and Namjoon carries Yoongi over, bends to set him down, and cages him in with his arms, hovering close.

"You're wearing too much," Yoongi whines.

Namjoon's heart flutters and his eyes drift down to Yoongi's pants and back up. "As are you, hyung."

With a somewhat petulant groan, Yoongi responds, "Do something about it."

Feeling playful, Namjoon stands and slowly begins unbuttoning the yellow lace shirt, watching as Yoongi gradually loses his composure and patience. With a huff, Yoongi sits up and reaches his long, tattoo-covered arms out, hooking his fingers in Namjoon's belt loops and yanking him closer.

Namjoon chuckles as Yoongi untucks the yellow lace shirt, shrugging it away and letting it hit the floor. Yoongi sits up tall, running his palms over Namjoon's stomach and pecs with a look of awe. The mesh shirt is tight, hugging Namjoon's curves in a way that made him incredibly shy earlier, when he was putting it on. Wearing it now, while Yoongi swoons openly, sparks excitement in Namjoon.

"Like what you see, pretty?"

Yoongi sighs, nibbling on his bottom lip. "You know I do."

"Want me to leave it on or take it off?"

Another sigh, "God, I don't know."

Namjoon can't help but laugh softly as he stares down at Yoongi with affection. It is too soon to be feeling strong feelings, and yet, all he wants is to take Yoongi gently by the face and shower him with words of love and adoration. Love. Namjoon feels his stomach swoop, making him a bit queasy, and he clears his throat and attempts to focus on how horny he is, instead.

Luckily, Yoongi helps him get out of his head by rubbing against the rough mesh material, over Namjoon's nipples, sending a wave of pleasure through him that makes him gasp.

"Fuck it," Yoongi grumbles, gathering the material of the flimsy shirt and pushing at it, "I want this off."

Namjoon aids Yoongi in his somewhat frantic attempt, grabbing the bottom hem of the shirt and slowly peeling it off, worrying for the sake of the fabric in his clumsy hands. He even struggles to get the tight material past his shoulders and elbows, and has to wiggle a bit until it is finally over his head, jingling the many chains that Taehyung had draped over his neck. When he is free of the garment, Yoongi paws at him, hands touching and groping his chest and abs.

"Damn, Joon," Yoongi says softly. "You are so fucking hot."

"Pretty Yoongi has a thing for muscles?" Namjoon teases.

Yoongi grips Namjoon by the hips, giving him a firm shove backward, and Namjoon stumbles a few steps back as Yoongi stands, so close he can feel the heat of his body. As Namjoon gets his bearings—suddenly tipped off his axis by Yoongi's proximity—Yoongi's hands fall to Namjoon's jeans, and he begins to undo the button.

"Pretty Yoongi has a thing for you," Yoongi responds, leaning so close Namjoon could easily press their lips together, if only he weren't so stunned where he stands.

"Is that so?" Namjoon asks in an attempt to be playful, though his voice cracks under the sudden pressure of being undressed by the man of his dreams.

Yoongi smirks and hums, then begins to slowly push at the waistline of Namjoon's borrowed jeans. "May I?"

"You may," Namjoon all but whimpers.

As the pants slide past Namjoon's thighs, then fall the rest of the way to the floor, Yoongi wraps his arms over Namjoon's shoulders and begins to leave warm, slow kisses against his neck.

"I want to repay the favor from earlier," Yoongi groans, voice deep and raspy. "And then I want to prep you nice and slow. Can you handle being overstimulated, Joon?"

Namjoon has absolutely no idea, and his exhale comes out shaky as he says, "I don't know. Maybe."

With a hum and a grin, Yoongi sinks back into a seated position on the bed and says, "Shall we find out?"

Suddenly, with Yoongi at crotch level, Namjoon feels anxious. He reminds himself that he has nothing to worry about—that he has already seen and sucked Yoongi's dick—but his head still swims with the possibility of his own dick being on display.

Yoongi rubs his hands over Namjoon's thighs, then brushes a thumb over his growing bulge, and Namjoon whimpers softly as arousal sends blood flooding to that spot. With a satisfied hum, Yoongi leans forward and rubs his lips over Namjoon's growing erection, breathing warmth through the soft, tight fabric and sending a shiver up his spine.

"I bet you get nice and big, don't you Joon?" Yoongi asks, dragging his lips against him.

"Yeah," Namjoon responds on a breathy exhale. "I get pretty big."

Yoongi nudges him gently with his nose. "Do you always bottom?"

The light touches and warm breath have Namjoon practically panting, desperate for more. He shakes his head quickly, blinking heavily as he mutters, "No. I would do anything for you; you know that."

"Good." Yoongi smirks as he slides a hand up to Namjoon's dick, giving it a gentle squeeze that has Namjoon moaning.

Yoongi takes the waistband of Namjoon's briefs gently in his fingers and tugs down, letting Namjoon's heavy, hard cock spring out. With a gasp, Yoongi quickly abandons his task of undressing Namjoon and takes his cock in both hands, gently stroking his length while squeezing the head. Every nerve on Namjoon's body is alight with heat as arousal tingles in his core. Yoongi's large, pretty hands are warm and engulfing, delicate yet firm.

"I bet you'll make my jaw sore really fast," Yoongi teases as he continues to gently stroke. "I can't wait."

Yoongi sits up straight, licking from Namjoon's balls up to the crown, and back down, teasing the tip of his tongue in tight circles. Namjoon lets out a gasp that becomes a groan and intently watches Yoongi, gaze traveling between his mouth and his eyes, which stare up at Namjoon. He practically breaks eye contact when Yoongi dips the very tip of his tongue into his slit, stretching him just enough to send a wave of pleasure breaking abruptly, making his eyelids flutter.

"You're such a tease," Namjoon groans, reaching down to gently push his fingers into Yoongi's hair.

With another devious smile, Yoongi mutters, "Sorry, Joonie. I'll be good to you, now," and takes Namjoon into his mouth, sucking him down until the tip of Namjoon's cock brushes against Yoongi's throat.

Yoongi's mouth is warm and wet, with a hint of cold steel, and Namjoon tightens his fist around Yoongi's hair, not enough to tug too hard, but enough to make Yoongi groan. The vibration of Yoongi's voice along Namjoon's length makes him tremble and inadvertently rut deeper into Yoongi's mouth. Yoongi seems unbothered and does not gag, then he slowly draws his head back, eyes still watching Namjoon, as he pulls out completely.

"I don't think I can take it all," Yoongi pouts with spit-slick lips.

"That's okay," is all Namjoon's horny, caveman brain can think of to say in response.

"Did you masturbate today?"

This question catches Namjoon off guard, and he takes a moment before answering, "N-no."

"So you'll probably cum pretty fast?" Yoongi grins.

Namjoon nods. "Probably."

"And you might even give me a nice big load to swallow."

All Namjoon can do is swallow all the drool that has pooled in his mouth and stare down at Yoongi, who once again takes Namjoon's cock into his mouth as far as he can before the tip is brushing against the soft, tight flesh of his throat. The feeling is incredible, sending a tremble throughout Namjoon's body as his pleasure continues to build.

Yoongi sucks in his cheeks and swallows, tightening around Namjoon before he slowly drags his lips back to the tip, only to suck him down again, nice and deep, and Namjoon legitimately fears that he may cum in absolutely no time at all.

"Fuck, hyung," Namjoon whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them back up. "Feels so good."

Yoongi groans and hums as he continues to suck, building Namjoon's arousal to dangerous heights at a breakneck speed. If this is how good Yoongi's mouth feels, he can only begin to imagine how he will feel topping him. The prospect is nerve-wracking and sends a shiver quaking through him. Yoongi must interpret the shiver as Namjoon getting close, and he wraps a hand around the length that he cannot get into his mouth, using his drool as lubricant to gently twist.

The wave of pleasure that bursts through Namjoon makes him whimper, and his entire body trembles. With his briefs tight around his thighs, Namjoon feels unstable on his feet and reaches down behind him with his free hand to shove at the fabric until it falls to the floor so he can widen his stance.

Yoongi continues to suck his cheeks in and swallow hard around Namjoon, letting drool fall from between his lips. His eyes are closed as he focuses on his task, but when Namjoon takes a step with his right foot to the side, Yoongi opens his eyes and stares up at him through teary lashes. The sight is so sinful—so absolutely perfect—that Namjoon begins to plummet toward orgasm.

With both hands, Namjoon takes Yoongi gently by the hair. He has to resist the urge to rock his hips, not wanting to push Yoongi too hard when he has established a perfect rhythm. But his hips do tremble with each deep suck, and Namjoon feels himself press into Yoongi's tight, velvety throat as his high builds.

"You're gonna make me cum, hyung," Namjoon whimpers.

Yoongi hums and moans with each swallow and stroke of Namjoon's length, and the sound is all it takes to send him reeling.

"Fuck, that's it," Namjoon groans. His entire body shudders and quakes at Yoongi's whim. "I'm so close. I'm s—"

Namjoon's head lolls back as he cums, spraying his release straight into Yoongi's throat while he continues to swallow around the tip. Orgasm quickly becomes overstimulation, and Namjoon begins to see stars as Yoongi milks him of his release.

"Hyung," Namjoon gasps, feeling the way Yoongi must have felt in the bathroom earlier, while tugging gently on Yoongi's hair, "you're gonna make me faint if you don't stop."

Yoongi chuckles as he pulls his head back and lets Namjoon's spent cock slip from between his pretty, sticky-slick lips. Tears have smudged the black makeup around Yoongi's eyes, and he smiles up at Namjoon looking very pleased with himself.

"You did give me a nice big load to swallow," Yoongi says as he leans forward and flicks his tongue over the tip of Namjoon's dick, making him gasp and whine. Then, he licks his lips and rasps, "Such a good boy for me."

The bulge in Yoongi's jeans is noticeable, and Namjoon drops to his knees, wobbling a bit in the process, and rubs his hands up Yoongi's thighs. "You're still wearing too much clothing," he pouts as Yoongi leans back to let him undo his fly.

Namjoon makes sure to rub over Yoongi's erection as he unzips his pants, and Yoongi groans from each touch, watching with blown pupils and a sharp smile. Although he already went down on Yoongi less than an hour ago, there is a part of him that wants to do it again, and he licks his lips at the thought. Yoongi, however, has other plans, and he sits up, gently taking Namjoon by the wrists and stopping him from doing any more.

"I assume you got bottom ready for me, baby?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, feeling a surge of arousal go straight to his cock from the new nickname. "I did," he responds, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Good," Yoongi responds, then he releases Namjoon's hands and pats the bed beside him. "On your hands and knees, please."

Yoongi scoots to the side, giving Namjoon room, and Namjoon does as he is told, planting his hands on the mattress and climbing up onto his knees. He gets into place in the center of the bed, draping his arms over a pillow with his ass in the air, feeling extremely vulnerable but excited, and Yoongi stands then pushes his jeans to the floor, showing off a pretty black dragon tattoo that snakes down his hip and thigh.

"God, you're a vision," Yoongi says as he steps out of the denim and kicks it aside. He gets onto his knees on the bed and grabs a handful of Namjoon's ass. "Just look at you."

Feeling playful, Namjoon wiggles his butt back and forth while Yoongi settles beside him, earning him a light spank, which makes him gasp and chuckle.

"Taking a pierced cock can be quite painful for some," Yoongi says, looking Namjoon in the eye with a serious expression as he leans and grabs a bottle of lube from atop the bedside table. "I'm going to stretch you as much as I can before we start, and if you decide you can't handle the feeling, I can let my erection go down and change the metal jewelry out for softer silicone. Or, you can fuck me. Whichever you prefer."

Namjoon takes in all of the information, doing his best not to feel nervous about the possibility of it hurting. He did admit to enjoying a little pain, but clearly, this might be more than what he has bargained for.

"I want us to use the stoplight safe word system. Do you know that one?"

"Yes," Namjoon responds, voice sounding shakier than he expected. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "I say green to tell you that I am good, and red if I need to stop."

Yoongi reaches and places a hand on Namjoon's back, filling Namjoon with warmth as he rubs from his ribs to his shoulder and down to his hip. "And if you need me to stop for just a moment, you can say yellow."

Namjoon swallows a lump of nervousness. "Sounds good, hyung."

And with that, Yoongi gets onto the bed behind Namjoon, kicking Namjoon's heart into full swing, as the bed dips and two large, warm hands spread his ass. He hears Yoongi breathe—or maybe hum—before squeezing him, and his mouth falls open gently with a soft gasp.

"I've been waiting for this moment and now I feel lost in awe," Yoongi admits with a chuckle.

Although the attention feels nice, Namjoon wonders if he might shrivel up and die from embarrassment if Yoongi continues to stare at his spread ass for too long. Never has someone wanted to sit and marvel at him before, and he feels incredibly exposed. But then he feels warm breath ghost over his taint, and he lets in a sharp inhale as his eyes flutter closed.

Gently, softly, Yoongi swirls his tongue over Namjoon's rim. The sensation is so featherlight but warm, sending a shiver up Namjoon's spine that escapes him as a relaxing exhale. Namjoon allows his shoulders to droop and relaxes into the blood red pillow that is clutched beneath him as he waits in anticipation for what may come next.

"Heaven," Yoongi groans, biting gently into the soft flesh of Namjoon's cheek and sucking the skin between his lips with a pop. "You fucking taste like heaven."

All Namjoon can do is whimper in response, finding it hard to wrap his head around Yoongi's voice or his words before his tongue is dragging over his hole slowly and firmly, making Namjoon tremble and moan. Suddenly, his insecurities fade, and all he is left with is the warm, wet drag of Yoongi's perfect tongue making him come undone.

The feeling intensifies as the muscle dips inside, stretching Namjoon gently around it. Namjoon lets his lips drag over the soft, deep red pillowcase that smells like Yoongi's musk. He cannot believe he almost made himself wait to feel this pleasure for the sake of an arbitrary rule he had set for himself. Yoongi has barely gotten started, and already, Namjoon is on cloud nine.

A fingertip joins Yoongi's tongue and gently presses inside, giving Namjoon a firmer stretch. Namjoon moans and lets out a deep exhale, gripping onto the pillowcase tightly. Yoongi is slow as he pushes his finger in deep and pulls it back, allowing Namjoon to set a steady breathing pace. Bless the length of his fingers and those thick, knobby knuckles as Yoongi steadily fills him.

"How do you feel, Joon?" Yoongi asks sweetly before lapping over Namjoon's stretched rim.

"So good," Namjoon whimpers.

"Ready for another finger?"

"Yes, please."

The first finger exits, leaving Namjoon feeling dreadfully empty, and he hears the cap of the lube bottle pop open. Yoongi licks over his rim hungrily, taking Namjoon by surprise as his lips and tongue make a sloppy fucking mess of him. Pleasure builds, and Namjoon groans into the feeling, sinking further into relaxed bliss. Then, the sting of two fingers entering him replaces the warm tongue, and Namjoon squeezes the pillow as he is stretched further.

"F-fuck," he whimpers, feeling a shiver rock through him. "S-so good."

A deep, pretty groan vibrates against Namjoon's skin as Yoongi drags his lips over his buttcheek, slowly prodding his fingers in and out a little further each time.

"You are so good for me, Joonie."

Joy and affection burst and bloom in Namjoon's chest. All he wants in the present moment is to be so, so good for Yoongi.

Yoongi is unhurried and careful as he stretches Namjoon on two fingers, and then three. By the time Namjoon is adjusted around three, he is panting and sobbing with sweat pooling on his forehead. It has been a while since the last time someone fucked him, and everything little sensation is intense.

As Yoongi begins to press a fourth finger in, Namjoon bites onto the pillow and cries out, practically screaming that he is green when his hyung asks so gently and calmly what color he is.

Namjoon is easily overwhelmed by pleasure—feels like he might burst at the seams and explode—and Yoongi is so patient as he drags more and more from him with each pass and prod of his fingers. Yoongi's lips and teeth suck and nip at his skin, undoubtedly marking his ass like an animal print, and Namjoon whimpers and hisses from each feeling—everything feels like so much.

By the time Namjoon is adjusted to four of Yoongi's fingers, his cock is desperately hard against his tummy and dribbling streaks of precum. With a deep, devious giggle, Yoongi brushes his fingertip over Namjoon's prostate, and the jolt of white-hot sensation that sparks through him makes Namjoon speak in tongues, feeling far too close to cum and not wanting to just yet.

"So pliant and good for me," Yoongi praises, littering his backside with kisses. "So tight and eager to be filled."

Namjoon has absolutely no idea what he fuck to say in response, so all he does is whimper and nod despite knowing Yoongi probably cannot see him. He is pliant and good and tight and eager to be filled. So, so eager. All for Yoongi.

As Yoongi slides his fingers from Namjoon's stretched hole, Namjoon lets out a large puff of air, able to breathe again but feeling so empty. Already, he longs for stimulation, missing the way Yoongi feels. The sound of the lube bottle popping open once more fills Namjoon with excitement, and he wonders if, finally, he will get to feel Yoongi's pretty, pierced cock.

Yoongi gives Namjoon's ass a playful smack. "Up, Joonie. I want you to ride me so you can be in control."

The very thought of being in any amount of control of his body weight and limbs feels overwhelming as Namjoon lifts himself onto his knees, feeling slightly embarrassed for the large drool spot that he has left on Yoongi's pillow.

Yoongi crawls to the center of the bed, moving the pillows out of the way as he takes a seat against the wall. He strokes his hard length in one hand while giving Namjoon "come here" fingers with the other, and Namjoon notices the slickness of his fingers, feeling a swirl of arousal at the thought of those fingers being buried inside him.

"You already look so fucked out," Yoongi teases as Namjoon crawls to him, straddling his legs. He feels fucked out already, and can only imagine the state of his hair.

"Felt good," Namjoon grumbles almost petulantly, suddenly a bit shy about being teased by someone so dreadfully sexy.

Namjoon wants to stop and admire all the designs on Yoongi's skin, but he knows that this is not the time. He does, however, flick his tongue over one of Yoongi's nipples, smiling as Yoongi whimpers so sweetly. Spurred on to hear more pretty sounds, Namjoon gently sucks his pierced nipple between his lips, playing with the cold steel with his tongue. A shutter rocks though Yoongi, who gently takes Namjoon by the chin and pulls him away from his task.

"Joon, baby, I love the way your tongue feels," Yoongi grumbles with a knitted brow, "but I need you to sit on this cock before I go insane."

"Baby, hmm?" Namjoon asks as he lifts his head to slot Yoongi's lips between his.

Yoongi groans and lets his mouth fall open for Namjoon to explore. A faint, heady taste accentuated by the sweet flavor of lube can be detected, and Namjoon licks it up eagerly. He thinks he likes the way it sounds when Yoongi calls him baby. But, then again, Yoongi could call him anything and it would send the butterflies in his tummy into a frenzy.

"I like it when you whine," Namjoon teases as he trails his lips down Yoongi's chin and neck, feeling some of his energy return. "Might have to make you beg some more."

Yoongi's hand wraps around Namjoon's cock, and he ruts into the feeling, unable to control the jerk of his hips. He feels Yoongi's pierced, lube-slick length thrust against his, and he whimpers as his forehead falls to Yoongi's shoulder. Slowly, Yoongi jerks the two of them, rolling his hips upward to rub their dicks in a dizzying motion.

"Fuck," Namjoon groans into the junction of Yoongi's neck and shoulder.

"What was that, baby?" Yoongi teases, voice breathy but controlled. "Were you saying something?"

"Not fair," Namjoon whimpers as he lifts his arms and drapes them over Yoongi's shoulders.

"What's not fair?"

The slide of their cocks in Yoongi's hand makes Namjoon shiver. "Everything you do feels incredible."

Namjoon manages to sit up on Yoongi's lap and lets his eyes trail down his pierced and tattooed chest and stomach, to their dicks in his hand, both swelled and leaking with precum, and one with a big metal ring sticking from it. A finger taps the underside of Namjoon's chin, making him look up.

"Come find out what else I can do, then," Yoongi says with a smile.

Yoongi releases their cocks and grabs the lube to slick himself back up as Namjoon plants his palms against the wall above Yoongi's head and sits high, hovering his ass until Yoongi is ready. With his fingertips, Yoongi smears lube over Namjoon's hole, making Namjoon groan, then he nods.

"Ready when you are, Joon."

Namjoon reaches below him and takes Yoongi's cock at the base, gives it a little squeeze, then begins to lower himself. The feeling of the metal hoop through Yoongi's tip makes Namjoon shudder, and he jerks his hips upward before settling back down.

"Cold," he mutters with a chuckle, glancing down to see Yoongi has his head tilted up and is watching his face. Namjoon smiles and mutters, "Hey."

"Hi there," Yoongi responds, nibbling on his lip ring.

Slowly, Namjoon puts a little more weight down, gasping from the stretch that Yoongi's fingers did a decent job preparing him for. Namjoon lifts his hips slightly, then pushes a little further, feeling the drag of the hoop inside him. It's...strange. But also pretty good.

But then, Namjoon feels the bar on the underside of Yoongi's cock tug at his rim, pulling almost uncomfortably, and he hisses, lifting his hips. Yoongi uses both hands to grab Namjoon's ass and spread him wide, and Namjoon lowers himself once more, determined to get past the jewelry.

"Careful," Yoongi gasps as Namjoon gently rocks his hips up and back downward.

Namjoon tries again, but the tug is too much, and he lifts his hips once more, nearly boiling over with frustration. He wants to take Yoongi's cock so badly it makes his head spin.

Yoongi sits forward slightly, reaching with his fingers to Namjoon's hole, and slowly begins to slide a finger inside, beside his cock head. Namjoon sobs from the feeling and does his best to keep still while Yoongi gently stretches him further, rocking his hips ever so gently, eager to be filled. Yoongi slips another fingertip in, sending stars bursting before Namjoon's eyes, then he gently thrusts until the piercing is past the rim and nestled inside Namjoon, using his fingertips as a shield from the steel balls.

With the head of Yoongi's dick buried inside him, Namjoon relaxes into the feeling and begins to sink further. Both cold metal rings tug along his walls, and the feeling is just intense enough to make him nearly gasp with each movement. There is not much pain, but it is a bit uncomfortable, causing alarms to ring in his head despite his need to feel it deeper.

"Take it slow, baby," Yoongi urges through grunts.

Namjoon had been completely spaced out, staring at the wall, but he blinks and makes eye contact with Yoongi, bringing his pretty, blushed face into view and feeling his heart soar.

"I'm good, hyung. It feels—" Namjoon moans, sinking further down, "—feels kinda weird but also s-so good."

Silence falls between them as Yoongi stares up at Namjoon, who does his best to settle on his lap and allow himself to properly adjust. Namjoon begins to feel shy under his unwavering gaze—feels blush creep to his cheeks as he softly asks, "What?"

Something gentle and sweet flashes in Yoongi's eyes, and he blinks as his pretty lips tug into a smile. "You're just incredible," he says like it is nothing, and Namjoon feels his tummy do a backflip.

The only thing he can do in this moment to keep himself from professing deep, intense feelings way too soon, is kiss Yoongi on the forehead, lift his hips, and slam them down. The drag of the metal on Yoongi's thick, perfect dick makes Namjoon tremble. Somehow, the intensity of the sensation feels like he is being crushed under some kind of weight, and he falls forward with his head on Yoongi's shoulder to catch his breath.

"Okay, wow," Namjoon mutters. "Why does it feel like so much?"

Yoongi chuckles and leaves a kiss on Namjoon's neck that makes him shiver. "Want some help, Joon?"

Namjoon nods his head, muttering, "Please," as he lifts his hips enough to give Yoongi some room to move. Yoongi cradles Namjoon's ass in his palms as he slowly begins to thrust up into him, not as deep as he could, but enough to make Namjoon whimper and curse and groan, eager for more despite it feeling like a lot, all the while Yoongi sucks and kisses at his shoulder and neck.

"How is that, baby?"

Namjoon's words come out breathy and weak. "F-feels amazing."

"Want me to keep doing this, or do you want me to fuck you?"

And, in this moment, Namjoon thinks he has never been so sure of anything in his life as he perks his ass out just a little more and says, "Fuck me, hyung."

Yoongi slams his hips upward, causing Namjoon to practically scream. The sound that leaves his mouth is pitchy and lewd, and it would make him feel embarrassed if Yoongi did not continue to piston his cock upward, hitting every spot inside him that makes him absolutely unravel.

Instantly, Namjoon sees stars. He leans forward, nuzzling into Yoongi's neck while the top of his head bumps into the wall, and he drools and sobs. Yoongi fills him so perfectly, and the piercings send him over the edge while his own cock slaps against his stomach, leaving a small splatter of precum in its wake. Namjoon thinks he could cum just like this, with his hands gripping onto Yoongi's hair and his body being used like a doll.

But Yoongi has other plans. With one hand, Yoongi reaches between them and strokes Namjoon's cock, sending a wave of pleasure so intense—so white-hot—Namjoon loses track of his senses, suddenly unsure whether sound and space truly exist. Namjoon sucks against pink peonies on Yoongi's neck while doing his best to lift and drop his ass in perfect rhythm of his thrusts, terrified to already come undone when he feels like Yoongi is only getting started.

"Want you overstimulated," Yoongi groans, voice broken on the edges from pleasure. "Sound good, baby?"

"Y-yes, hyung."

"Good," Yoongi says as he squeezes Namjoon's dick, sending him plummeting over the edge.

Namjoon's back arches, and he changes posture to sit straight and let his head fall back. In this position, Yoongi leans forward and clamps his lips on one of Namjoon's nipples, causing another jolt of pleasure to join the electrical current running through his limbs. He is mere moments from falling apart completely.

"Gonna cum, hyung," Namjoon whimpers as he lifts and slams his hips to match Yoongi's rhythm and chase his high.

Yoongi's hips somehow piston even harder, and it takes no time at all for Namjoon to spray his release on Yoongi's fist, which continues to stroke and squeeze. Namjoon shudders through his orgasm, moaning and sobbing as his high begins to dissipate and he enters the realm of overstimulation. He practically begs for mercy when Yoongi slows his hips and wraps his arms around his waist.

"Sit up baby, but don't pull out."

Namjoon does as he is told, whimpering as he sits high on his knees so Yoongi can shift below him, going from a fully seated position to also on his knees, one leg at a time.

"So good for me," Yoongi grumbles as he lazily drags his lips over Namjoon's chest while he readjusts. "I want you on your back. Can you do that for me, Joon?"

Namjoon nods and waits for Yoongi to begin to move, then drops his arms behind him and slowly begins to lower himself to the mattress with Yoongi's cock buried inside him. The feeling is strange and overwhelming, and Yoongi cradles him until his back hits the soft red comforter.

It almost feels humiliating the way Yoongi grabs his thighs and spreads them, draping his legs over his shoulders and towering over him with a look of pure lust in his eyes. Namjoon considers asking for a break, but as Yoongi slowly pulls his hips back and rolls them forward, the drag is incredible, sending blood rushing back to his cock with a wave of overwhelming pleasure that makes him whimper.

"Too much, baby?" Yoongi asks in almost a mocking tone.

Namjoon nods and whines, "Uh-huh."

"Color?"

With a sigh, Namjoon responds, "Green," because he truly does want more.

Yoongi pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, slapping the metal ring that hangs below his cock against Namjoon's taint, which he finds surprisingly satisfying. Namjoon feels so full and so completely at Yoongi's mercy as he stretches his arms above his head and allows himself to sink into the feeling. Several more powerful thrusts have tears forming in his eyes, and when Yoongi leans forward, Namjoon feels so full it punches the air from his lungs.

It takes no time at all for Namjoon's cock to be hard and leaking, slapping against his tummy, and Yoongi grabs onto it and rolls his hand over the leaking tip, making Namjoon sob. It also takes no time at all for him to cum a third time, and when he does, it hits so hard, his cries are silent, punctuated by sobs as he gasps to catch his breath, clawing at the blanket beneath him.

"Color, baby? Can you handle one more?"

Namjoon is absolutely certain that if he tries to cum again, he might actually die, but the feeling is so good, he wants nothing more than to be perfect for his hyung.

"Green," he mutters, feeling his heart flutter when Yoongi smiles down at him so pretty.

Yoongi slows his hips to a gentle roll and reaches for the bedside table, first for a hair tie to get the hair out of his face—tying it into a half top-knot that makes Namjoon swoon and want to cry—and then, for more lube, which he dribbles directly onto Namjoon's stretch hole, grinning as the cold liquid makes Namjoon thrash and squeal.

"How do you have so much fucking stamina?" Namjoon whines as Yoongi slowly drops Namjoon's legs to the side and leans forward to suck on his bottom lip as he begins to slowly pick up his pace.

"You made me cum earlier, remember?" Yoongi groans against his lips.

Oh, Namjoon remembers. How could he possibly forget his first time dropping to his knees in a public bathroom?

Yoongi takes his time getting Namjoon hard and fucking him through his fourth orgasm. As soon as Namjoon begins to cum, Yoongi kisses him deeply, sucking the sounds from his mouth while whimpering that he is close. The cadence of Yoongi's voice when it becomes pitchy and desperate is music to Namjoon's ears, and he wraps his arms around him to hold him close, feeling Yoongi tremble in his arms as he fills him with his release.

They stay like this for a while, with Yoongi nestled deep inside him, twitching from time to time as Namjoon squeezes around him, eager to milk him of every drop. Namjoon feels fucked out, sore, and exhausted, and he holds Yoongi close planting soft, lazy kisses all over him while Yoongi smiles and grumbles and tells him how perfect he is.

"I've never been fucked that good in my life," Namjoon praises softly, and he means it; in this moment, he cannot remember anyone making him feel half as good.

Yoongi chuckles and holds him close. "Good. I want to make you feel amazing."

"You do. I love—" Namjoon hesitates, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, "—uh, l-loved it."

He curses himself for using the word love and squeezes his eyes closed, but Yoongi just nuzzles impossibly closer and hums a deep, happy sound.

"Good," Yoongi responds, slowly sitting up with a smile. "Let's clean off and then go to bed."

As consciousness slowly creeps into the hazy confines of what is leftover from sleep, the first thing Namjoon feels is disoriented. The second thing he feels is a bit sore.

Namjoon cracks an eye open and looks around, remembering the room he is in. Next, he remembers the red comforter he fell asleep tucked under, and then the man he held tight as he drifted to calm darkness. With a smile, Namjoon rolls from his back to the right, lifting an arm gently with the intention of wrapping it back around his hyung. However, when he rotates, he is greeted by only an unoccupied pillow.

With a sigh, Namjoon returns to his back and stretches his arms over his head, knocking his knuckles against the cold wall while he yawns widely. As he begins to feel more awake, the smell of coffee wafts into the room, and if he listens closely, he can hear small sounds coming from the other room. Namjoon considers getting up and joining Yoongi in the kitchen when he remembers the attire he had worn last night. He does not exactly want to get dressed in Taehyung's clothing again.

But the promise of coffee—and of seeing Yoongi—is too enticing, so Namjoon gets out of bed, shivering as the air greets his skin, and finds his briefs. Perhaps the sight of him in nothing but his tight underwear will be a welcome sight for Yoongi.

Namjoon finds the garment on the floor and grabs it, putting it on, one leg after the other and squatting to get everything in the right spot. Then, he makes his way down the short hallway, walking slowly and quietly with the hope of catching the sight of Yoongi dancing around the kitchen while he gets his morning started. Instead, when he turns the corner, he finds Yoongi leaning against the counter, anchored on his elbows, with his hands threaded through his hair. His posture screams stress or exhaustion, and anxiety drops to Namjoon's guts like a brick.

Suddenly, Namjoon wishes he had not just come tip-toeing out in his undies. What if this is not the sight that Yoongi wants to see? He even considers backing up and retreating to the bedroom, but Yoongi must sense his presence, and he looks up. At first, Yoongi looks surprised, but then a smile spreads, and his gaze softens. He wears a large white tee, and he holds his hand out, beckoning Namjoon closer.

"You're naked," Yoongi grumbles, voice raspier than usual.

"Didn't want to put Tae's clothes back on," Namjoon responds as he approaches and joins Yoongi in the kitchen.

"Well, I'm not complaining," Yoongi says as he straightens out and rounds the counter. His shirt goes down to his thighs, and he has no pants underneath. Namjoon wonders if he has anything underneath at all.

"Was I interrupting something?" Namjoon asks hesitantly, trying to cover his nerves.

Yoongi shakes his head. "I wanted to give you some space in case you needed it."

With Yoongi close enough to reach out and grab, Namjoon does just that. "Don't want space," he mutters as he leans to place a kiss against Yoongi's temple.

"You sure?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon detects a hint of uncertainty and wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist, hugging him close. "I'm sure."

With a deep, heavy sigh, Yoongi pulls Namjoon into a hug and litters kisses against his throat and neck, making Namjoon chuckle quietly. It tickles and it feels really nice.

"I have to work in a few hours," Yoongi mutters against his skin. "Got a couple of appointments."

"Wow," Namjoon teases, "just gonna fuck me and kick me out." He pulls Yoongi impossibly closer, burying his face in thick, soft, dark hair as he grumbles, "You men are all the same."

Yoongi shakes from laughter and nips at Namjoon's neck until he jumps and attempts to pull from the hug. Held in place with Yoongi's arms, Namjoon has no choice but to wiggle around as Yoongi nips at his skin.

He likes this. Standing in Yoongi's kitchen in the quiet of the morning, still a bit delirious from sleep and from a night of the best sex of his life. He likes being practically naked, wrapped in the warmth of Yoongi's arms, comfortable in his skin. This is something Namjoon thinks he could get used to. And this is even something he anticipates craving the moment he finds himself back in his own home, alone.

"If you aren't sick of me, maybe we could meet after?" Yoongi suggests. He continues to hold Namjoon tight, tickling his neck with his lips, which drag with every syllable. The vibration of Yoongi's voice against his chest is comforting.

Namjoon smiles. "Imagine being sick of you."

"Yeah? You want to see me again?"

"See you again?" Namjoon asks incredulously, pulling back just enough to look Yoongi in the eye. "I want to recreate last night as much as possible. I have never been taken care of so well in my life."

Yoongi's eyes fall from Namjoon's gaze and trail around the room, and Namjoon swoons over his sudden shyness. "Please, Joon. I'm sure it wasn't that life changing."

Although he knows Yoongi is just being modest, Namjoon feels somewhat offended that he would brush his skills off so easily. It really was top-tier, in terms of how he has been fucked in the past. But he chuckles and lets it go. Perhaps Yoongi is too grumpy in the morning to be reasoned with, so he concedes to allowing him to lie to himself about his performance. There will always be future fucks to gush about, he hopes.

The rest of the morning is slow and easy. He sips coffee with Yoongi before putting on a tee and some sweatpants that Yoongi claims he drowns in, which are still a bit too small for Namjoon. Namjoon kisses Yoongi goodbye and strolls leisurely back to his apartment, feeling a pep in his step despite the slight limp. Then, he gets back to his place, showers, tends to work emails for several hours, before making plans to see Yoongi again later.

Namjoon Hey, JK! Do you happen to know what time Yoongi should be off tonight?

Jeonggukie 🐰 His last appointment is at 3, so he will probably close up around 6.

Namjoon Are you in tonight?

Jeonggukie 🐰 Yes, and yes, I can stall him until you get here, but don't be late! He'll suspect something is up. Come between 5:30 and 5:45.

Namjoon Thanks, Gguk!

Jeonggukie 🐰 You have my hyung smiling like an idiot this afternoon. I take it you had a good night?

Namjoon We did. Hyung also has me smiling like an idiot today.

Jeonggukie 🐰 Good. I really like you two together. I haven't seen him this happy in a long time.

Namjoon gets to the tattoo shop around 5:45 PM holding a bag of sweets from the café he and Taehyung stopped at several days ago before he came for a tattoo. As the door chimes, signifying his entry, he watches Yoongi twist with a scowl and shout, "We're closing!" before realizing it is him.

"Sure you don't have time to pencil me in?" Namjoon teases as he makes his way through the lobby of the shop and leans against the counter.

Jeongguk stands from the chair at his workstation, and waves at Namjoon with a wide, welcoming smile. He is dressed in his standard all black everything with his hair flopping around in large curls at the end, and he looks adorable as he prances over and mutters, "Perfect timing," before announcing that he is done for the night and heading out.

Yoongi waves Jeongguk off, telling him to lock up, and Jeongguk closes the blinds and does as he is told while Yoongi continues organizing something at his station, all the while Namjoon watches him work. He wears a black hoodie and looks so cozy, Namjoon wants to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight.

"I was wondering why he wouldn't just leave," Yoongi finally says, glancing up with a grin. Then, he lifts a hand and beckons Namjoon closer. "Get over here."

Namjoon leaves the bag of sweets behind and rounds the desk, approaching Yoongi's workspace, and when Yoongi pats the leather exam table, Namjoon has a seat. Without a word, Yoongi rolls up the denim leg of Namjoon's pants to have a look at his tattoo, then puts on a black latex glove and grabs a small jar of crème.

"Looks good," Yoongi says with a soft smile as he dips a finger into the crème and begins to rub it over his sunflower.

It is cold against Namjoon's skin, and it feels really nice. Already, some of the ink is beginning to scab, which has become a little itchy, and the crème instantly soothes it.

"So," Yoongi says as he pulls the glove off with a snap. "Did you come in so I could finally pierce your ears? Or were you hoping I would bend you over this table and fuck you?"

Arousal floods Namjoon, making him feel shy, and he lets out a soft chuckle as Yoongi stands before him and crowds his space, pushing his legs spread so he can lean in for a kiss.

"I was j-just coming in to say hi," Namjoon mutters against Yoongi's soft, pretty lips.

Yoongi hums, sucks on Namjoon's lip, and asks, "Are you sure? You brought something with you, what is it?"

"Just some sweets from the café."

Another hum from Yoongi's pretty mouth as he says, "You're the only sweet treat I need, silly. Sure you didn't come in looking for another spur of the moment modification?"

To his own surprise, Namjoon wonders if, perhaps, getting his ears pierced would be nice. He is curious about the way a needle might feel, and he has been on quite an impulsive streak, lately. Not to mention, Yoongi told him some piercings would look good.

"Maybe I should let you pierce me, hyung," Namjoon responds, watching as excitement widens Yoongi's eyes and smile.

Yoongi taps the tip of his nose against Namjoon's and stands back far enough to glance at his ears. "I bet the boys would agree that you'd be stunning."

"Yeah? Should we ask them?"

Namjoon pulls out his phone and begins to text Taehyung, then Jeongguk, despite assuming that they are already with each other. Taehyung mentioned earlier that he would be waiting for Jeongguk to get off work, and even threatened Namjoon's life if he showed up to the shop late, delaying Jeongguk's arrival. Although Namjoon laughed off Taehyung's dramatics at the time, he totally gets it; he was incredibly eager to see Yoongi again from the moment he left his apartment this morning.

Yoongi leans in to see what the guys are saying and cocks his head to the side. "Why does Taehyung have a present emoji next to his name?"

Namjoon laughs. "Oh, this. Uh, yeah that's actually a tradition Taehyung started. He claimed that each message from me was a gift, and insisted I never change it. And then, from there, I began to save people's names with an emoji that signifies my impression of them. Jeongguk has a bunny, because of his cute front teeth."

"Do I have one?" Yoongi asks softly, and Namjoon thumbs out of his chat with Taehyung to find his chat with Yoongi.

"You do," Namjoon admits with a shy smile. "But I was actually thinking about changing it.

"Oh?"

Namjoon opens their chat and lets Yoongi see his name with a sunflower next to it, and Yoongi smiles softly but then looks confused. "Why would you change it?"

As Namjoon opens the edit page and deletes the sunflower, he thumbs through the list of emoji, looking for the more appropriate one, saying "Because I'm the sun seeker, remember?" And then he selects the new emoji and hits save, turning it to Yoongi so that he can see the new name at the top of the screen, which reads "Yoongi 🌞"

Before Yoongi can swoon too hard, Namjoon receives emphatic texts from both boys, urging him to get his ears pierced. And so, it is settled. Namjoon is once again going to do something he never thought he would, and allow Yoongi to modify him a second time.

Yoongi wastes no time setting up a small station, and marking Namjoon's ears. He even puts paper padding down on the table for Namjoon to sit on, joking that it is there just in case the pain from the piercing turns him on too much and he needs to be taken care of, making Namjoon chuckle.

Although Namjoon agrees to the placement of the dots, he is too tingly with adrenaline and trusting that Yoongi will do the right thing, so he says yes and allows Yoongi to continue without any fuss. They decide on some silver hoops that will hang just a bit below Namjoon's lobe, and then Namjoon hugs the cloth-wrapped pillow tightly as Yoongi begins to line up the needle on the first lobe.

"Take a deep breath," Yoongi says softly, and Namjoon does as he is told. "And breathe out."

As Namjoon exhales, Yoongi punctures his ear with the needle, sending a wave of adrenaline through him—the pain is intense for a very split moment, and then it settles into warmth. The sight and smell of Yoongi's presence does not help the sudden bubbling of desire from the pain, and Namjoon grips onto the edge of the paper-covered leather table with one hand as he squeezes his eyes closed and hisses. He thought Yoongi might be joking when he made the comment about this being a turn on, and now he thinks he might just be onto something.

"One more pinch," Yoongi informs. "Gonna slide the needle out and put the jewelry into place."

The feeling of the metal sliding through his lobe nearly makes Namjoon shiver, and he bites his lip as Yoongi hums and gently pushes the ring through and adjusts it.

"How do you feel, Joon?" Yoongi asks, and Namjoon opens his eyes to find him smiling.

Namjoon's lips are parted as he catches his breath, and he knows that there is an expression of desire painted across his face, judging by the way Yoongi studies him.

"That good, huh?" Yoongi teases, and Namjoon nods. "You look great, baby."

Yoongi moves in for a kiss, careful not to touch him with his gloved hands but still making Namjoon whimper. He may have been somewhat entertaining the idea of allowing Yoongi to fuck him in his shop, but now he wants it more than anything.

"Onto number two," Yoongi says as he straightens out and grabs his needle from its spot on a paper towel that has been laid out on the small metal supply table.

Namjoon attempts to ignore the flow of blood to his dick as Yoongi lines up the second needle and tells him to inhale, but as soon as it pierces Namjoon's ear, sending a rush of pain through him, Namjoon groans, trembling from the feeling.

"That was borderline pornographic, baby," Yoongi teases. "You do like a little pain, hmm?"

"Yes, hyung," Namjoon gasps as Yoongi pulls the needle through, threading the jewelry into his ear and putting it into place. As soon as Yoongi is finished, Namjoon grabs his gloved hand and presses it over his growing erection, whining, "I like it a lot."

Yoongi wastes no time ripping his gloves off and tugging at Namjoon's jeans to get him to stand. Before he can get his bearings, his fly is open and Yoongi is spinning him around, shoving him into the exam table. Namjoon falls forward against the protective paper that covers the leather as Yoongi yanks his jeans and briefs down, and spreads him wide.

"This what you need, Joonie?" Yoongi teases as he licks a stripe over Namjoon's hole, making him fall forward and tremble through a moan. Yoongi's tongue is divine as he laps over Namjoon, devouring him.

"Y-yes, god yes," Namjoon moans, bent and eager for Yoongi to do absolutely anything he pleases. It takes a lot of effort on Namjoon's part to pull his long-sleeve t-shirt over his head, and he drapes himself over the table as soon as he does, feeling the cool air of the shop hit his skin and give him goosebumps.

Yoongi stretches Namjoon open quickly, producing a bottle of lube from his desk that he jokes he bought on the way to work this afternoon, anticipating Namjoon coming in begging to be fucked one of these days. And this is just another item on the list of impulsive acts that Namjoon cannot believe he is doing as Yoongi rubs lube-slick fingers over his hole, making him practically scream out into the empty tattoo shop. It takes no time at all for Namjoon to be stretched and begging for his cock.

This time, when Yoongi slowly pushes his cock inside, he spreads Namjoon nice and wide and eases the metal jewelry past Namjoon's rim without too much discomfort. In fact, Namjoon is still high from the adrenaline of his own piercings, and the additional hint of pain sends him hurtling toward pleasure and he welcomes the hint of discomfort. His cock is pressed between his tummy and the exam table, and when Yoongi thrusts in deep, filling Namjoon just the way he likes, Namjoon melts into the feeling with a sob.

"Stand for me, baby," Yoongi commands, and Namjoon scrambles to anchor himself up onto his hands and get into a standing position. Yoongi wraps an arm around Namjoon's chest and grabs onto his throat, holding him in place. "Now I can show you what these piercings in my dick are really for."

When Yoongi pulls back and thrusts forward, both metal rings graze over Namjoon's prostate, sending a dizzying, intense wave of arousal crashing through him. He whimpers, "Oh, fuck," as Yoongi thrusts again and again, picking up a pace that has Namjoon's head spinning and his arms dangling at his sides.

It takes no time at all for Namjoon to hurtle toward orgasm. He claws at the paper on the exam table, falling forward in Yoongi's arms and speaking in tongues with desperate, incoherent sounds bursting through his lungs and lips. Yoongi gently eases Namjoon down and spreads his ass wide as he picks up a brutal pace, moaning his own string of pitchy, whiny noises as his hips begin to lose rhythm.

"Shit, baby, I won't last," Yoongi groans, digging his fingers into Namjoon's ass. "You feel so good squeezing me."

A blessing, truly, because Namjoon is certain he will fucking die if Yoongi makes him cum more than once today. Yoongi thrusts harder and faster, making Namjoon sob as his cock grinds into the table below him. Trembles quake through him as he cums, and Yoongi follows behind quickly, pulling out and spraying the cleft of Namjoon's ass with his release.

As Namjoon lies against the table with his own release turning sticky and cold against his chest and belly, Yoongi slides out, pulling another shockwave and moan from him. He stays put as Yoongi cleans himself up, attempting to catch his breath, and Yoongi returns with a warm, wet paper towel and carefully wipes his mess from Namjoon, then Namjoon stands and takes the towel so he can clean his own mess from his abs.

Before he can bend and pull his pants up, Yoongi captures his face between both hands, humming into a kiss. "Did that feel good baby?" he has the audacity to ask, making Namjoon blush.

"You know it did," he mutters against Yoongi's lips, smacking a nice loud kiss against his lips before bending to dress himself.

"We should make a habit of this," Yoongi says as he begins to strip the protective paper covering off the leather table and cover the surface with cleaning spray.

"Yeah?" Namjoon asks, feeling flowers burst and bloom behind his ribs, stretching tall and thriving under the warmth of Yoongi's sun.

"Yeah," Yoongi says, setting down his spray bottle and approaching Namjoon for another kiss. "Let me take you out. You can stay at my place. We'll have the sweets you brought for breakfast in the morning. And then, we can do it over and over again. Sound good?"

Namjoon wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist, nuzzling the tips of their noses together. "Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend, hyung?"

Yoongi grins, cheeks turning a pretty hint of pink. "Will you? I know it's still really soon, but—"

"Of course I will," Namjoon says, cutting Yoongi off and punctuating with a kiss.

Yoongi smiles as they slot their lips together and groans into his mouth. He wraps his arms tightly around Namjoon's neck, and they kiss nice and slow as Namjoon savors Yoongi the way he deserves.

"Good," Yoongi mutters as their lips part just enough to allow them to breathe in each other's air. "I'm already beginning to fall for you. I can't get enough."

With a deep, happy sigh, Namjoon pulls Yoongi tighter and nuzzles against his neck, inhaling his sweet musk and littering soft kisses against tattooed skin.

"The feeling is mutual, hyung," he admits with his eyes closed and his heart so warm and full of affection.

Namjoon never used to do impulsive. He was measured and intentional. Being impulsive felt terrifying.

But standing in Yoongi's arms, accepting a proposition to jump into something new so quickly, Namjoon thinks he can find new ways of being measured and intentional without holding back. Impulsivity no longer feels terrifying in Yoongi's arms. It feels freeing.

you have no idea how much i have missed these two, and how good it feels to finally get to wrap up this story. apologies for taking so long! the tail end of 2022 was a whirlwind.

please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators!

tag list: @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @moonleeai, @pleasegivemearemedyyy, @manaroy93 🌻 wanna be tagged in everything i post? dm me!

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#namjoon x yoongi #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #namjoon fluff #yoongi fluff #namgi #namgi smut #namgi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #fic: sun seeker

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mysticmousecat · 2 years

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So, You Want To Be A Professor - Part 2 (SFW...mostly)

Sorry this part is a little shorter than my usual parts, I'm still a little sick and I felt like adding the next bit of what's to come to this would make it too long so here we are, stuck in this in between space, anyway, part 3 will be out soon!

Words: 2k

Warnings: Some sexual tension, Viktor being a fucking tease, mentions of masturbation but nothing graphic (Hense the mostly SFW)

You’d never actually been inside the Hextech lab before, you never had a reason to be, but now that you walked through its doors with several of your other classmates that morning you lost your breath at the scale of it, so much larger than your tiny chemistry lab. You took in the sight before you, chalkboards, all covered in two different handwritings, diagrams you couldn’t completely understand and equations that you vaguely recognized from Heimerdinger’s class but were still pretty much gibberish, papers which you assumed to be notes and research papers strewn over tables and desks, complex equipment in various stages of paused use, a pile of what looked to be unfinished prototypes shoved into a corner. There was a large couch against one of the far walls, near a towering window that you assumed was often slept on more than either of these two men’s actual beds. As your eyes cast over the entirety of the room, they landed on something that once again kicked the air right out of you, the image of a very focused, very occupied Viktor, sat in front of a machine built for who knows what, hair mussed from what seemed to be multiple moments of frustratedly carding his fingers through it, protective goggles over his eyes, presumably to shield them from the bright blue light emanating from the machine, which he had his hands up to the wrists buried in as he toyed with cables and the like, the sleeves of his brown striped dress shirt pulled up above his elbows, waistcoat discarded at some point, leaving his tan colored tie to hang freely over his chest. He was sat comfortably on a stool, one leg balanced on the floor while the other perched easily on one of the stool’s lower rungs, he was the picture of a devoted inventor in that moment, and there was something about that image of him that sent heat to your cheeks, put butterflies in your chest, and made it so you couldn’t tear your eyes away. He didn’t even seem to realize there was a crowd watching him work, much of that crowd you might add being a group of girls, intent on ogling him— you weren’t going to count yourself within that group, you were politely admiring, not staring at him the way a wolf stares at a deer.

“Good morning class!” Professor Heimerdinger’s cheery voice ripped you from your downward Viktor spiral. The Yordle walked into the room to stand before his group of students, seemingly ignoring or just not noticing how many of them were trying to mentally undress his former assistant— now that group you will place yourself into. “Welcome to the Hextech lab, where many of the modern conveniences Hextech has provided for us over the years were developed, from thought, to blueprint, to prototype to finished product.”

“This right here,” You jumped slightly at Jayce’s sudden appearance. “Is the original prototype for the Hexgates.” Jayce motioned to the large machine his partner was currently wrist deep in, the same partner who had yet to even raise his head in acknowledgment to the crowd around him. “It was a little dusty and needed some repairs, as evident from Viktor rooting around its insides; but it’s a fully functioning small form Hexgate, intended for testing the transportation of small objects, like fruit, bolts and tools. Its twin is on the other side of the room, which we’ll get to shortly, as soon as Viktor is done.” Almost immediately Viktor pulled his hands from the device, slammed the panel door closed and reached behind him, picking up what looked like a small ball from the table behind him, wasting no time in tossing it up into the air above him and into the circular opening at the top of the machine, a flash of blue light and the ball came hurdling through the twin device on the other side of the room, coasting easily into Jayce’s outstretched hand.

“Fixed it.” Viktor confirmed, pushing the protective goggles off of his face and up into his hair, pulling it back slightly to properly display his face, showing off the angular sharpness of his cheekbones and finally putting his eyes on proper display, where they should be as far as you were concerned. Viktor reached for his cane, propped against the desk behind him, standing up and pulling the goggles off of his head and tossing them onto the desk, letting some of his hair fall back into his face, though he made no move to properly fix it and your fingers twitched with the desire to card them through it and restore some of its neatness. “Now if you are done letting me do all of the work.” Viktor motioned for Jayce to continue while several members of your class giggled at his quip.

Jayce seemed to ignore his partner’s witty banter. “Anyway, for this presentation, we will need a volunteer,” The second the words left his mouth, quiet chattering passed between your classmates at who might be chosen, everyone seeming quite eager to offer themselves up. “Viktor, it will be your choice.” You looked at the students around you, all focused on Viktor as he scanned over the crowd of willing students, seemingly taking his time in picking who he would let volunteer, there were several girls trying to make themselves seem more obvious, moving to the front of the group, obscuring his ability to see you, which you were actually pretty thankful for. You could barely handle being in the same room as Viktor without feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust, how were you supposed to handle being his volunteer and having to do god knows what with him. You subconsciously backed up, trying to bury yourself further within the sea of students around you, hoping if you were quiet enough maybe no one would be the wiser that you were even there, particularly a certain scientist who seemed to quite enjoy a friendly tease.

“Miss (y/l/n).” Viktor’s voice was like a bucket of ice water at that moment, he couldn’t even see you, why was he choosing you? You waited a moment before slowly emerging from the center of the group, making your way past confused girls and boys alike as to why they hadn’t been chosen instead, you were wondering the same question. You imagined you looked a little bit like a frightened deer, but Viktor’s expression was warm and despite the nerves in your chest, managed to ease just a little bit of your apprehension. He extended a hand out to you, which you, albeit hesitantly, took; the second your skin touched his you felt a jolt of electricity down your spine, almost enough to pull your hand away, but you kept firm, and if he noticed your reaction he didn’t mention it, instead he just used his gentle hold on you to pull you closer, leading you to what looked like some kind of control board, levers and tubes and thick cords ornamenting its surface. It wasn’t until you were close enough to him that he could speak without the other students hearing that he did so. “You will be ideal for this.” You remained quiet for a moment before responding.

“Why?” You inquired, he was right behind you and slightly to your side, one hand resting gently over your shoulder, the point of contact almost feeling like a burn, a burn that you didn’t want to stop. You hadn’t gotten up the nerve to look at him yet. With him standing so close you could feel his body heat.

“You’re a chemist.” He stated plainly, like it answered your question perfectly… it did not, you were just as confused, more now actually.

“Elaborate?”

“Well, working with magic is working with the transference of energy,” He started, voice so close to your ear you could feel his breath as he spoke, you tried to swallow down the rock in your throat. “It is a similar concept in Chemistry is it not?” But didn’t engineering also deal with a lot of transference of energy? If anything, an engineer probably would have been better suited as they would have more of a basis in physics. You peered up to look at the man beside you finally, finding his eyes, the expression he wore telling you he was perfectly aware that the explanation he gave was paper thin, what you didn’t understand was why.

You could feel the heavy stares of the class behind you, you imagined several of them were some very unimpressed women disappointed that Viktor hadn’t chosen them, but when he took your hand again and lead it to one of the levers, using his hold on you to manually wrap your fingers around it, nearly covering your hand with his own, the warmth of his touch sending sparks up your arm, then placing his other hand on the top of your back, you couldn’t focus on anything else but his touch, how warm he was, how gentle he was, you were right when you first observed him, his fingers were callused and rough, but they were feather light on your skin. When he pulled his hand away from yours, he let the tips of his fingers glide up your arms just slightly, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire, a touch so light, a touch that you knew the rest of your class couldn’t see, it was a moment just between the two of you. You could hardly focus as he explained the board to you, explained how it affected the prototype Hexgates, you just did as he told you, just hearing his voice in your ear and trying to will your knees not to give out from under you every time he touched you again, so deliberate and delicate, the gentlest touch, hidden from prying eyes and overwhelming every single one of your senses. While physically you were there for the entire presentation, as Jayce explained how energy is transferred from one Hexgate to the other, your mind was on Viktor, and only Viktor, by the time it was done you felt as if you’d run a marathon, trying to catch your breath.

You felt like every touch was burned into your skin as you walked from the lab back to Professor Heimerdinger’s classroom after the presentation, you felt cold without Viktor’s touch on you anymore, without his body heat right next to you, you were stuck between wanting it back and feeling like you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he touched you one more time. That night you sat in your bedroom replaying the event, remembering every touch, every word he practically whispered into your ear, your dreams were no easier, filled with images of Viktor, those fingers on your skin, tracing down your stomach, up your thighs, over your chest and between your legs, you woke up in the middle of the night warm, a thin layer of sweat over your skin and a burning heat in your core, and if your fingers got a little adventurous under your blankets, well that wasn’t something anyone else had to know.

Viktor had to know what he was doing right? You don’t just inflict sensual torture on someone unknowingly, it wasn’t like you were exactly subtle with how it visibly affected you. For a brief moment you entertained the thought that maybe he was as attracted to you as you were to him, but it was quickly thrown from your thoughts, there was no way, right? He probably had no idea what he did to you, he was probably trying to be completely friendly, you were just pent up and touch starved and were reading into it too far. Right? The thoughts came back again, but what if he was attracted to you? What if he knew exactly what he was doing? What if after your moment with him yesterday he’d gone home and sought… relief, the same way you did. The thought of it brought color to your cheeks, thinking about him taking himself in hand at thoughts of you, thinking about it being you to touch him, to wrap around him, to pull those sweet noises you're sure he could make from his lips, replaying every subtle touch the same way you had, it ignited fire in your veins. Well, if he was doing it on purpose, there was one sure fire way to find out.

taglist

~~~~~~~~~

@staticspouse @cherrys-spice-cabinet @ohgodsimback

@lmaoleafs @lethe-from-hades @straycatgirl69 @venomlized

@59shoukei @bvnnycqfe @roronoarengi @r0ugie @gowonreal

@aprincessforapauper @dreamyjaguar

#Viktor #arcane #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor #lol #arcane netflix #lol viktor #league of legends

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bordemm · 3 years

Text

𝐵𝑅𝐴𝑇(𝑈𝑆𝐻𝐼𝐽𝐼𝑀𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐾𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑆𝐻𝐼)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs:sᴍᴜᴛ,ғᴀᴄᴇғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ,ᴍᴀɴ ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ,ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ,ᴅᴇɢʀᴀɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏᴍ ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ

ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:ʏᴏᴜʀᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜsʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ ᴘᴜᴛs ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ:2672

ɴsғᴡ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ

Large would be an understatement. There was something that lit a fire in Ushijima that he didn’t know he had, there's something about the way you looked so small standing next to him that made his pants a tad tighter than they should’ve been. Ushijima was not a small or gentle man by any means but when he was holding your hand as you two walked down the street his hand would cradle yours like you were made of glass. The stares you would get when seen together were obvious and anyone could read their faces. You looked like a small lamb next to the big bad wolf. You didn’t care for the stares they didn’t bother you or ushijima, the both of you were content in the small bubble you had.

“Toshi” you said looking up at your boyfriend tugging his sleeve a little, he looked down at you without a word waiting for you to tell him why you called for him

“Can we go home?” you asked looking around the packed venue, it was a party for the national team and of course Ushijima was invited and he spent all day fighting with the people up top to allow him to bring you, it’s not that you were unable to care for yourself or that you couldn’t stand to be apart from ushijima, no that wasn’t it at all. Ushijima knew he wouldn’t be able to get through this night without you by his side, you were an anchor to the giant. Something that brought him comfort, you could read Ushijima well because you had no other choice. Wakatoshi was a man of few words in front of others but with you he felt as though he couldn't stop his lips from moving, it was ironic truly, such a small thing like you couldn provide so much comfort to the tree of a man.

Ushijima looked down at you shaking his head no, you let out a sigh before trailing behind him as you guys walked through the crowd getting to the table. The organizers of the party let you come under one condition; you and wakatoshi would have to wear matching outfits. You didn’t mind but you weren’t expecting Wakatoshi to look so good in red. The dark crimson clashing perfectly against his tan skin and olive green eyes lit a fire in your belly. You wanted to go home not because you were bored, no you were wet embarrassingly so. The way his shirt was too tight showing off his muscular chest and his broad shoulders made you cross your legs trying to relieve the ache. Ushijimia wasn’t completely clueless, you two have been together for some time now, though he isn’t much of a talker it gives him the advantage, Ushijima can read you like a book.

You watched as Kageyama bounded over to you adjusting his suit jacket, you went to whisper one of the many dirty thoughts you were having only for wakatoshi to grip your thigh,dipping his head down to let his warm breath fan over your ear.

“Behave” is all he said but that six letter word made your pussy become even wetter than before. You squirmed in discomfort your panties sticking to your vagina like a second skin, ushijima squeezed your thigh harder as another warning as Kageyama came and took a seat at the table

“Hi (y/n) it’s good to see you” Kageyama said politely you nodded back giving him a sincere smile

“It’s nice to see you Tobio, how have you been?” you said making small talk with the setter to distract yourself from the oozing mess that you were sure is ruining your panties. Ushijima didn’t say anything or chime into your conversation as more people from the team came to the table, everyone sitting and talking.

“You know it (y/n) you’re spoiled!” Bokuto exclaimed making you giggle shaking your head

“I’m not! It’s not my fault toshi takes care of me” you said leaning into ushijima who just draped his heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Oh you take care of her ushiwaka?” atsumu teased making you roll your eyes

“I provide for (y/n) in any way she needs, as a partner should” he said taking a sip of his drink

“Well (y/n) if ushijima ever doesn’t provided for your more ‘personal’ needs i’d be more than happy to” atsumu said at this ushijima snapped his head back toward the conversation just in time to hear your response

“Oh really? How sweet of you Miya, i might have to take you up on the offer” you teased, wakatoshi knew what game you were playing and you knew just as well as him that if you didn’t cut it out you were really going to be in for it.

“Yeah? There has to be a closet round here somewhere” Atsumu said

“Watch it Miya” ushijima’s dark voice sliced through the conversation making Atsumu nervously chuckled and you sank in your seat

You didn’t let that stop you though, you continued to shamelessly flirt with Atsumu. Ushijima didn’t stop you wanting to see how far you’d dig your grave, deciding you’ve had your fun and now it was his turn, he stood up before standing you up from your seat by your arm with ease.

“We are leaving, let’s go brat” he said his voice uncharastically harsh, you became flustered strutting over your words as Ushijima dragged you away from the table, his grip nearly bruising. As you guys were making your way to the exit wakatoshi’s PR manager stopping you guys at the door pleading him to stay

“No i can’t stay, i have to teach this brat manners” he said, jerking your arm little as he openly referred to you as a brat in front of his manager, you knew you were in trouble by the lack of a filter he had right now. His poor manger stunned just stepped to the side letting you guys through

Timeskip

The sight in front of ushijima was delicious, you were sprawled over his lap your asscheeks an angry red color as his large left hand came down swatting you again making you yelp

“13, thank you daddy” you said placing your hand flat on the floor because of the force of ushijima’s spank sent you forward.

“Stop squirming slut” he hissed bringing you back up on his lap

“M’ sorry daddy” you whimpered hoping he would have mercy

“No you aren’t, not yet” he said spanking you again this time on the right asscheek

“14, thank you daddy” you said gripping onto his thighs to steady yourself

“Did you enjoy behaving like a cock hungry whore in front of everyone?” He asked, his voice booming off the walls of your shared bedroom. You shook your head no, earning you another spank.

“You can’t be that dumb, use your words slut” he said, his words going straight to your sopping cunt

“No daddy just missed you” you confessed which wasn’t a lie this was ushijima’s first night home in 2 months. Ushijima let out a sigh sitting you up so you were straddling him. He hand came up cupping your cheek his calloused thumb wiping away a tear

“So that’s why you were acting like a bitch in heat? Missed daddy?” he said his voice sincere you nodded sniffling nuzzling your head into his hand

“I’m sorry princess, i know i’m gone a lot” he said running his large hands up and down your spine making you shiver

“But you know better, and if i don’t punish you now you’ll keep thinking with that pussy instead of your head” he said gently before shoving you off his lap onto the floor in front of him. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he stood above you, if you felt small before, you were truly dwarfed in this position. The 6’4 man towered over you before giving you a nod allowing you to reach up to his dress pants with shaky hands unzipping them and pulling them down along with his briefs, his thick cock coming up and bobbing against his muscular abdomen.

“Now make yourself useful,” he commanded. You immediately took the head of his cock into your warm mouth and quickly enveloped him as you suckled on his tip, never taking anymore than that into your mouth. Ushijima rolled his eyes before cradling the entirety of your head with one hand slamming his length down your mouth the tip ramming into the back of your throat, you squealed around him sending vibrations up his cock making him groan.

“suck” he said, you followed his instructions hollowing your cheeks around him bobbing your head around him and pumping what couldn’t fit in your mouth in your hands that dwarfed around his thick cock. Ushijima allowed you to keep this pace for a while before placing both of his hands on this side of your head making you look up at him your swollen lips around the middle of his cock

“Don’t forget to breathe, and tap me twice if it becomes too much. Blink twice if you understand me” he said dominant persona dropping for a second. Your heart swirled with love over his tenderness with you. You blinked twice letting some tears fall.

Ushijima regained his dominance snapping his hips forcing more of his thick cock down your raw throat. His pace was relentless as he spewed filth telling you how much a good whore you were, asking if you had gotten what you were begging for. You couldn't respond only allowing a stream of whimpers to leave your throat.

Ushijima finally pulled out, leaving a string of saliva connecting your bruised lips to tip his heavy cock, you gulped down the air greedily huffing and puffing. Ushijima allowed you to collect yourself till he picked you up easily before tossing you down on the bed.

“If i were to put theses fingers” he said suckling on his fingers before pushing two of his thick digits into your pussy making you moan

“In here and press here” he said curling his fingers to effortlessly pushing against the spongy spot inside you making you moan even louder

“Would you cum for me?” he asked, taking his other hand rubbing your clit making you writhe and squirm under him the white hot pleasure building faster and faster leaving you unable to catch up cumming all over his fingers.

“Looks like you will,” he smirked, his ego stroked by how easily you came undone for him. Your legs trembled as you came down from your high.

“Shh shh it’s all good little one deep breaths the fun hasn’t started” he said laying down and pulling you on top of him, your dripping cunt lubing him up without trying as his cock laid heavy on his toned abs

A quick smack on the ass brings you back down earth letting the gravity of the predicament you put yourself in weigh on you

“You were so desperate to get your needy little pussy filled, take what you want” he said resting his head back against the plush pillows watching as you lined yourself up with cock with shaky hands. You let out a groan, feeling him stretch and fill you to the brim, your pussy feeling impossibly full.

“Atta girl” he praised smacking your ass again making you jolt forward

“Now bounce” he commanded and you followed his orders not wanting to push him more than you already have you grounded your hips against him feeling his cock stir inside you till you got up and began bouncing on his cock.

Ushijima watched closely as you began to shameselly bounce whining and moaning about how full you were and how good he felt. He gripped your hips slightly, guiding you brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Daddy s’ too much!” you exclaimed hands coming up to tweak your hard nipples with a moan that turned into a scream feeling ushijima slap your clit

“You can and will take it,I'm giving you what you asked for no?” he said, giving you a harsh thrust in particular making you throw your head back. Ushijima loved this, loved the way you shamelessly used him to get off, no regard for his pleasure just yours it made him feral. Before you could cum he flipped you guys over remaining inside of you. He lifted your legs putting them on his shoulders before he began thrusting into at an unforgiving pace making you scream

“Just like that baby so fucking good for you, daddy gonna stuff you full is that what you want?” he asked as the tip of his penis kept tapping your cervix

“Yes yes yes yes daddy so good so good” you mindlessly babbled as you began to cream around his cock a white ring of cum forming at the base

Ushijima looked down at you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your tongue lulled out of your mouth the pleasure overwhelming your brain.

“Your brain oozing out of your sloppy little pussy too?” he said referring to your fucked out state, he asked but didn’t expect a response knowing you’ve been fucked stupid

After you came for the third time without a break overstimulation began to set in making you push your feet flat against his shoulders trying to push him out with weak legs

“Too much daddy!” you screamed as he continued to mercilessly fuck you. His big hands swatted your legs off his shoulders before wrapping a hand around your throat

“Whos. pussy. Is. this?” he asked punctuating every word with a thrust that sent you to your building orgasam

“Ts’ yours toshi all yours!” you shouted knowing your neighbours could hear your boyfriend fuck your brains out.

“Then let me use MY pussy as I please” he said his thrusts becoming inconsistent as he came close to cumming. Knowing your boyfriend was close you began to clamp down around him wanting to him cum hard inside of your fluttering walls

“Fuck you keep squeezing me like that im gonna cum, but that’s what you want huh? You cum slut” he said thrusting into you. You nodded looking up at ushijima like he was a god, tears freely flowing down your cheeks from the immense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. That face. That’s what sent him over the edge. There is nothing more he loves, eyes glassy with tears, lips red and swollen, little hiccups and moans leaving you as your pussy shamelessly sucked him in more.

“Gonna fill this pussy with my cum, stuff you full” he said thrusting so hard like he was trying to funnel his cum directly into your womb

“Yes yes yes yes yes” you chanted like a bitch. Wanting nothing more than your boyfriend’s hot cum spilling into you marking you in the most lewd way possible. With one final thrust and a throaty moan ushijima came inside of you painting your walls white with cum.

You moaned at the warm feeling of his cum filling you to the brim, you whimpered as more of his cum came out overflowing from your pussy on to the sheets of your shared bed

“So full” you whimpered as ushijima slowly rocked his hips fucking his cum into you before pulling out

“Your such a good girl” he praised stroking your hair lovingly looking down at you like you hung the moon and stars in the night sky

“Thank you toshi sorry i was being a brat” you sniffled his cum still flowing out of your pussy

“Shhh it’s okay baby just relax i’ll go get your bath ready” he said placing a sweet kiss on your temple on your temple walking to the ensuite.

You dreamily sighed tilting your head to the side ignoring the ache in your legs and focusing on the love swirling in your heart.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!!#anime #hard dom ushijima

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baoshan-sanren · 3 years

Text

Best dramas I’ve watched in 2020 so far (and some not so good ones) Part II

part 1 here

Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain - based on Once Upon A Time, There Was A Spirit Sword Mountain by 国王陛下 (translation dropped at chapter 50 out of 884 back in 2017). A combination of satire/comedy with complex themes. The emotional investment sneaks up on you out of nowhere and hits you like a sack of bricks. An interesting twist on the master/disciple relationship. Meh on the special effects. Excellent female characters. Solid plot, endless fanfic potential, all the found family your heart desires. Much more gay than you’d think. Needs Season 2, but Season 1 can be watched over and over again. 9/10

Handsome Siblings - based on Twin Heroes by Gu Long. Feel good ending. A decent amount of angst. The most heartwarming drama I’ve watched all year. Funny and insightful and a joy to experience. Meh on the special effects. They don’t know they’re brothers. Plot drags only in a few places, and not for very long. A variety of female characters, but mediocre on their portrayals. A sect comprised of only female disciples - I would like to see it. Contains one of the three het couples whose happiness mattered to me in the entirety of 2020. An endless well of hilarity and angst. Can be watched over and over again. 8/10

Love and Redemption - based on The Glass Maiden by Shi Si Lang (translation ongoing). A wild ride from beginning to end. Intentionally and unintentionally funny. Gay subtext. Contains one of the three het couples whose happiness mattered to me in the entirety of 2020. A plethora of excellent and complex side characters. A feral bottom snake god. A merman who gets kidnapped once a week. Buckets of angst and frustration and misunderstandings. Gorgeous aesthetics. The male lead is tortured more often than all the other characters combined, but he looks hot while going through it. A+ for the sheer wildness of the plot, C- for all the misunderstandings; there has to be a limit somewhere. 7.5/10

The Rise of Phoenixes - based on The Rise of Phoenixes by 天下归元 (translation ongoing). Contains one of the three het couples whose happiness mattered to me in the entirety of 2020. If you judge the seriousness of the drama by the relative hotness of the Emperor, casting Ni DaHong should tell you everything you need to know. An abundance of court intrigue, suspense, and humor. Complex themes, steady plot progression, no scene time wasted. Costumes and set design out of this world. Smart and witty. The most thought provoking drama I’ve watched all year. Ni Ni is a goddamn goddess and should be worshipped daily. 10/10

Legend of Two Sisters In the Chaos - based on a novel I can’t seem to track down anywhere. Meng ZiYi must have some serious back pain from carrying all forty episodes on her shoulders. Interesting premise, shaky execution at best. Main het relationship did not excite, nor were the acting skills comparable; Meng ZiYi deserved better. Wang ZhuoCheng gives a decent performance. The drama does pack an emotional punch if you stick around long enough to get invested. Forty episodes long, but sometimes seemed twice that. Definitely entertaining, but not engaging. 6/10

The Wolf - also based on a novel I can’t track down. Too much romance, then angst, then romance. The dreaded love triangle. Dropped the drama three times, then went back because Xiao Zhan. Darren Wang gives decent performance, but does not have much to work with. Li Qin’s skills utterly wasted on this role. If you’re not invested in the love story, you’ll get bored. If you’re invested, you’ll be emotionally numb half-way through. Good fight scenes. Not so good special effects. 5/10 for the actors doing their best with what they had.

Dance of the Phoenix - based on Dragons Flies Phoenix Dances by 明月听风 (translation dropped at chapter 27 out fo 85 in May of 2020). Yu Mingye deserved better. Female main character + mostly female side characters. Excellent + complex villains, also female. Judging by the costumes + special effects, not much of a budget to work with. Cop-out in the last few episodes to neatly tie up the plot that was... not very intricate to begin with. Vastly entertaining but not that deep. Buckets of angst, but plenty of humor to ease the pain. Lan JingYi fights with a fan. Good fanfic potential. Godawful ending. 7/10 for the best villain I’ve encountered all year.

Legend of Fei - based on Bandits by Priest (translation ongoing). Zhao Liying slays. A variety of compelling female characters. Excellent fight choreography. Interesting premise, steadily progressing plot. Potential for many disaster bisexuals. May contain the fourth het romance I’m invested in this year, but it's still too early to tell. Wang Yibo in his element as Xie Yun, may even produce a better performance than his role in The Untamed. The drama is still only 7 episodes in, will give ranking when finished. ?/10

Looking forward to:

Immortality - based on danmei novel The Husky and His White Cat Shizun by 肉包不吃肉 starring Chen Feiyu and Luo Yunxi

Winner Is King - based on the danmei novel Sha Po Lang by Priest starring Tan Jianci and Chen Zheyuan

A Tale of The Wanderers - based on danmei novel Faraway Wanderers by Priest starring Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun

Douluo Continent - based on xuanhuan novel Soul Land by 唐家三少 starring Xiao Zhan and Wu Xuanyi

Step By Step Lotus - based on historical novel Return to Ming Dynasty as Prince by 月关 starring Zhang Binbin and Luo Yunxi

Feng Qi Long Xi - based on historical novel of the same name by Ma Bo Yong starring Zhu Yilong and Deng Lun

Sword Snow Stride - based on the xuanhuan novel The Snowy Path of the Heroic Blade by 烽火戏诸侯 starring Zhang Ruoyun and Hu Jun

Heaven Official's Blessing - based on danmei novel of the same name by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu - cast unknown

Thousand Autumns - based on danmei novel of the same name by Meng Xi Shi - cast unknown

Joy Of Life Season 2 - based on wuxia novel of the same name by 猫腻 starring Zhang Ruoyun and Li Qin

A League of Nobleman - based on danmei novel The Society of Four Leaves by Da Feng Gua Guo starring Song Weilong and Jing Boran

Flying Phoenix - based on danmei novel of the same name by 風弄 starring Dai Jingyao and Shu Yaxin

#cdrama #cdrama recs #long post #m

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pers-books · 4 years

Note

38. Grief fic with 75. Bed sharing: for when you have the time and have inspiration if this pairing is ok, I’m in the mood for pain

Oh ouch! I’m just gonna sit here and wince my way through this one!

Canon compliant angst. Enjoy!

When Bernie arrives in France to visit Serena, after they close down her Trauma Unit that she worked so hard for and gave so much effort to, she feels awkward - her grief at the loss of the Trauma Unit is sharp-edged, yet it cannot compare to the loss of her twenty five year career with the RAMC. And neither of those things can even remotely compare to the loss of a daughter. As her train approaches her stop, the awkwardness dissolves into guilt and the realisation that she’s been very selfish in running away from Holby to Serena, when Serena has so much on her plate already. She had planned to spend the entirety of the six weeks until she goes to Sudan with Serena, but now she resolves to only spend a week or ten days, and she will not burden her with any talk about the Trauma Unit.

She steps off the train and shoulders her kitbag, wincing a little at the thrum of ache from muscles that have spent too long in the same position. Her back is feeling particularly wretched, but she bites her lip in an effort to distract herself. She starts to walk away from the train, wondering where to find Serena in the seemingly enormous crowd of people who have disembarked with her, when a French accented male voice calls, “Major Wolfe?”, and she turns towards it to see a tall, black haired man about Cam’s age, waving at her. And next to him is Serena Campbell.

Bernie makes herself walk towards them even as she drinks in the sight of the woman she loves more than anyone aside from her children: short silver hair; bright - dare she say sparkling? - brown eyes; a pair of actual shorts (not something she’d ever imagined seeing Serena Campbell wearing!) and a lightweight blouse; sandals on her feet and a broad brimmed hat in her hand that she claps back onto her head as soon as Bernie starts moving towards them. She can see that Serena has still not regained all of the weight she lost while still in England, but it’s not a difference that Bernie would consider too alarming - Serena still has curves for days. She feels her mouth begin to water and her heartbeat quickening at that thought, and she resolutely admonishes herself mentally. There will be no thinking about that, that’s not what she’s here for.

“There you are, love,” Serena says, and plants kisses on both of Bernie’s cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too,” Bernie says, afraid that her grin is too wide, too delighted, and doing her best to dial it back.

“This is Robert,” she gestures at the young man, “who’s playing taxi for us today.”

“Pleased to meet you Major Wolfe,” he says, his French accent making his English words sound beautiful.

“Bernie, please,” she says. “Pleased to meet you, too, Robert.”

Robert insists on carrying her kitbag and she decides not to fight him since her back is already busy fighting her. She does her best not to either sigh or purr when Serena’s hand lands on her back and carefully rubs her tight muscles.

“Robert works at the farm where I’m staying,” Serena tells Bernie as the three of them climb into a dark red Citroën, the two women in the back seat. “He had to come into town for supplies so kindly offered to bring me to meet you.”

“I appreciate it,” Bernie says. “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.”

He grins at her, his teeth seeming startlingly white against the tan of his skin in the dim light of the car’s interior. “Ce n'est rien. Mon plaisir.”

“Good of you to say so,” Bernie tells him, pleased to have understood him telling her that it’s nothing, and that it’s his pleasure. “And that’s about the limit of my conversational French, I’m afraid.”

He laughs. “It is no problem, Doctor Bernie,” he says, and Bernie’s reminded of Jason calling her that and bites her lip at the thought of Jason, back home in England.

Serena’s hand slips into hers and squeezes, as if she knows that Bernie’s feeling guilty for abandoning Jason by leaving Holby, and Bernie squeezes back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The farm is huge, Bernie discovers, realising that she’d been thinking in terms of the farms she used to see as a child back home in England. This is much bigger, not least because of the vineyard, orchards, and what seems like half a forest, that make up the largest part of the farm. There are any number of buildings on the land and Bernie struggles to parse all of what she’s seeing, beside the actual farmhouse, which is Robert’s destination. It is not, however, Bernie’s and Serena’s destination, as she discovers when Serena, her hand wrapped firmly around Bernie’s, leads her across the farmyard, around the side of the farmhouse, and across a large expanse of closely-cropped grass to a rather charming cottage.

“This is me,” Serena says, and sounds a little shy when she says it.

“It looks very nice,” Bernie offers. “Not too rustic.”

Serena gives her a wide grin. “Oh, it’s far from rustic, Berenice.”

Bernie feels a little frisson of pleasure skate down her spine at Serena’s use of her full first name, and the coy tone of voice in which she says it. She follows the other woman inside and finds herself in a large, airy room with its windows flung wind open to the sounds and smells of Southern France in August.

“Leave your bag by the stairs for now,” Serena says. “We’ll have some lunch first.”

“Oh. Um, well, would you mind if I had a shower first and got changed?” Bernie asks cautiously. “I’ve been stuck on several hot, cramped, and crowded trains for hours and I really don’t want to inflict that on you for any longer than necessary.”

“Of course,” Serena says immediately. “I should have thought of that. Sorry.”

Bernie shakes her head slightly. “It’s fine. I just find I’ve grown to dislike reeking of my own body sweat. Gone soft as a civilian.”

Serena snorts. “I’m pretty sure it’s not soft to not want to smell of sweat and travel.” She gestures at the stairs in the corner of the room. “Come on up.”

She leads the way up the stairs to a wide landing off which four doors partially open.

“We’re in here,” she says and moves into the first room on the right.

Bernie follows her as far as the doorway, then pauses, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Serena turns and looks at her, frowning when she sees Bernie hovering awkwardly on the threshold.

“You don’t fancy this room?” she asks.

“It’s not that,” Bernie says quickly, because even a quick glance around the room has shown her that it’s a lovely room with a huge bed beneath the exposed beams of the roof, all heaped with clean white linens, and an enormous window with a wide balcony outside.

“Then what?” Serena asks gently, crossing back towards her and taking Bernie’s right hand in both of her own. “What’s wrong?”

“Nuh-nothing. It - uh - well, are you sure you want us to share a bed again? Because I won’t mind - well, that’s not true - I will mind, a bit, well more than a bit - but, well, I’d understand if you don’t want to. You didn’t before - after Elinor-” She cuts herself off with a gasp, feeling stricken at bringing up that name so soon.

“Oh love.” Serena seems to sigh the words out. “I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I don’t just mean physically.” Bernie shakes her head in vehement denial. “Shush, you.” Serena places a finger against her closed lips. “I did hurt you, physically and emotionally, before I came to France. And I know it was particularly hurtful of me to refuse to share a bed with you. It won’t be easy, I know, after our months apart. But I would like to share with you again, if you would like to share with me, that is.” She drops her hand and turns away from Bernie. “But if you’d rather sleep alone, then obviously that’s fine. There are two more rooms available. Jacques, the man who owns this farm and vineyard, he usually lets this cottage out to hands they hire for the grape harvest, but I’m renting the entire thing from him this year, so you’ve a choice-”

“Serena.” Bernie cuts her off because she’s starting to ramble, just a bit. “I’d be delighted to share with you again, if that’s what you also want.”

“It is.”

“Good.” She sets down her kitbag. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Serena laughs - honest-to-god, mouth open and head thrown back laughs - at this. “This room has an ensuite. There’s a separate bathroom on the far left side of the landing as well.”

“Okay.”

Bernie delves into her kitbag for her toiletries bag, then pulls out a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, then a bottle of sunblock, a folded up sunhat, and a pair of leather sandals that have seen some wear, but have some miles in them still.

She leaves the clothes on the corner of the bed with the sandals on the floor beside it, then grabs her toiletries bag.

"I’ll go and sort out some lunch,” Serena says.

“Okay. Thank you.” She brushes her fingers against the back of Serena’s hand, allowing her to decide whether or not she wants the contact, and when Serena grabs her hand, she lifts their joined hands and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

“It really is good to see you,” she says, aware that her voice is thick with emotion.

Serena gives her a sincere smile. “And it’s very good to see you,” she says. Then she slides her hand up Bernie’s arm, clasps her shoulder, and gives her a very firm kiss on the lips. “Come down when you’re ready and we’ll eat out on the back patio.”

“Okay.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They go to bed early that night as Bernie’s drooping both from the long journey and from the lack of sleep the night before as she sorted out packing up the stuff she wanted to send to Sudan, and the stuff she needed to bring with her to France, not to mention saying goodbye to Jason - him she would not leave without a proper farewell, so she’d made shepherd’s pie to his Aunty Serena’s particular recipe, and they’d eaten together, talking of Serena and Elinor, and his mother, Marjorie, before he’d gone to bed, leaving her to her packing.

Bernie’s half asleep when Serena shifts closer to her where she’s lying on her side, trying to stretch her spine out.

“Bernie.”

“Mmm?”

“Is it - that is, would it be okay - I mean-”

Bernie rolls onto her back and asks, “Do you want to cuddle?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, love.” She opens her arms and can’t help a sigh of relief when Serena settles on her side next to her, her right arm across Bernie’s waist, and her left bent at the elbow so that her face is on her hand.

“That’s not going to be comfortable, surely?” Bernie asks lightly. “You used to like my shoulder as a pillow.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Serena asks, sounding diffident.

“Absolutely positive.”

She helps Serena get settled so that her head is pillowed on Bernie’s right shoulder.

“I should probably warn you that I might have a nightmare. It doesn’t happen every night, not anymore, but it might.”

Bernie cards her fingers through the silver hair near her chin. “That’s okay,” she says. She can still recall the occasions, before Elinor, when Serena had to wake her from a nightmare: it usually involved the IED.

She falls asleep soon afterwards, lulled by the warmth of another body sharing her bed (though technically, she’s sharing Serena’s bed). When they got into bed together it had felt like a lot longer than seven months since she and Serena had slept in the same bed. But the weirdest thing had been her realisation that she and Serena had only been a couple, and therefore in a position to share a bed, for five weeks between her return from Kiev and Elinor’s death. The thought had made her deeply regret (not for the first time) the two months she had wasted by going to Kiev: not that she regretted the work she’d done there - the new trauma unit there was work to be proud of. She just regretted the extra two months that she and Serena could have had together if she hadn’t panicked and run away.

It’s around 2am when Serena’s nightmare wakes Bernie from a deep sleep; the thump to her ribs, followed by feet kicking her shins are enough to wake her thoroughly, but it takes her several minutes to wake Serena.

“Shh, shh. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” She does her best to soothe the gasping woman, carding her fingers through Serena’s hair, while her other hand rubs up and down her upper arm. “I’ve got you,” she repeats as Serena lies trembling in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters.

“It’s okay,” Bernie tells her. “You did warn me, after all.” She presses a kiss to Serena’s temple. “Do you want some water?”

“No, thank you. I’ll go and get a cup of camomile tea in a few minutes.”

“I can go and make it for you,” Bernie says.

“You should go back to sleep.”

“Not sure I can do that just yet,” Bernie says. “I’m a bit too wide awake.”

“Oh?”

Bernie chuckles weakly. “You got a bit aggressive with me, Campbell, before I was able to wake you up.”

“How aggressive?” Serena sits up, then puts on the lamp on the far side of the bed.

She shrugs. “Let’s just say my ribs and shins were grateful when you stopped.”

“God, I am so sorry,” Serena exclaims, then climbs out of bed.

“Where are you going?” asks Bernie in puzzlement.

“To sleep in one of the other rooms.”

“You don’t need to do that, love,” she says firmly. “I can weather a bit of rough housing, you know,”

Serena snorts. “I know you’re a big macho army medic, Berenice Wolfe, but you shouldn’t have to put up with violence. Not again.”

Bernie slips from the bed and rounds the foot of it to stand in front of Serena, pressing her palms to the tops of her shoulders. “Come on, love,” she says softly. “Come back to bed. It’s okay. I’m okay, I promise you.” She brushes her lips against Serena’s forehead. “Go and lie down again, and I’ll go and make you that cup of tea, then we can try again.”

To her surprise Serena bursts into noisy sobs and she immediately draws her into her embrace, cuddling her close. “Hey now,” she says softly. “Hey now, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Serena says between sobs. “I don’t deserve you. I really don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the grief talking,” Bernie says firmly. “It’s not about who deserves who. You don’t have to deserve me - I love you, that’s all that matters here. I love you, Serena Wendy Campbell, no matter what.”

Serena goes limp against her, so Bernie picks her up and walks the few paces to the bed, then lowers her onto it.

“Do you still want that tea?” she asks, brushing an errant lock of hair off Serena’s forehead.

“No,” Serena says weakly. “Thank you.”

“Okay.” Bernie climbs back into bed. “How about you be the little spoon and I’ll be the big spoon?” she suggests.

Serena nods, then rolls onto her right side and Bernie shifts up against her back, sliding her right arm under her body in order wrap her arms securely around her body. She tucks her knees in behind Serena’s, both of them bending their legs part way towards their bellies. She presses a kiss to Serena’s nape, then nuzzles her nose behind her left ear.

“Okay?” she asks softly.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Serena reaches out and switches off the lamp, then settles her arms over Bernie’s, her hands wrapping over Bernie’s forearms.

“I love you,” Bernie whispers. “I’ve got you and you’ll be safe here with me.”

“I love you, too,” Serena whispers back.

Bernie begins humming the lullaby she used to hum to Cam and Charlie when they were small and suffered from night terrors, and feels some satisfaction when Serena’s body relaxes against hers, then her breathing deepens and evens out.

Eventually she feels sleep creeping up on her again and she brushes a last kiss to Serena’s neck, then murmurs “I love you” against the same patch of skin before she succumbs to her need for a little more slumber.

[Pick two (2) tropes for me to mash-up and explain how I’d write them (Berena only)]

#doctorjameswatson #Ask and you shall receive - possibly!#Berena #Mash-up Meme #Trope de Trope #Fanfic

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ittomi · 4 years

Text

fluff = ♥︎ ; angst = ☹︎ ; smut = ✝︎

completed = ✓ ; in hiatus = ☂︎

masterpost // next

moth to flame by @bang-to-the-tan ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19.

drabble 01. 02.

⤷ vampire au

“Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions run high and the brothers are getting hungry…”

cee’s house of horrors by @jungshookz ✓ ☹︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07.

⤷ horror au

blood for blood by @lunaandhertrashheap ☂︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11.

⤷ abo au

“You are better off alone. That’s what you’ve told yourself for the past 13 years, living off a food source that has dwindled with each passing season. But when you hunt down a buck on someone else’s territory, you invite the attention and compassion—however unwanted both of them may be—of a rising Alpha. Determined to remind you what it is have a family, he makes a decision that could very well end his position as Alpha no sooner than it’s begun. The funny thing about staying in one place, though, is that now you’re forced to relive the nightmares you spent so long running from. And along with them come the memories of a debt that demands to be paid in blood.”

lunacy (feat. jk) by @jincherie ☂︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

prologue. 01.

⤷ wolf au ; mates au ; college au

“The entirety of your introduction and exposure to wolves has been at the hands of Jimin and Taehyung, who over the course of your study have arguably become your best friends. It isn’t until they drag you to a party held at their packhouse that you meet the rest of their pack, though– and once you do, thing’s already aren’t the same as they were before;…Wolves mate for life, and wolves are almost exclusively monogamous. It’s rare for a wolf to have a human mate, and even more unheard of for a wolf to have more than one mate. Unfortunately for you, an incident at this party lands you in the middle of every exception there could possibly be.”

blood bounty by @lemonjoonah ✓ ✝︎

01. 02. 03.

⤷ vampire au ; historical au

“He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.”

ebony petals & moth wings by @gingerpeachtae ☂︎ ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02.

⤷ angel au ; demon au ; college au ; fake dating au ; friends with benefits au

“You’re supposed to be a good girl. You’re supposed to be kind and patient and virtuous. To do as you’re told and make your parents happy… but that wasn’t you. Not the real you, at least. You might have been an angel, but fuck, all you wanted to do was sin.”

consumed (feat. jk) by @jkeuphoriadreamland ✓ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08.

⤷ vampire au ; yandere au

“Fed up with the every day monotony as a creature of the night, Jungkook finds a new obsession, one that he can share with no one.”

moonstruck (feat. jk) by @jeonsweetpea ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

⤷ werewolf au ; vampire au ; supernatural au

“You couldn’t wait for Jungkook to break his sire bond with you. Not like you were thrilled an ungrateful brat was sired to you anyway. Just a hundred more days and it would all be over. He would no longer be loyal to you. ”

wolfsbane by @springbean ✓ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. epilogue.

⤷ werewolf au ; soulmates au ; college au

“y/n was the last person to believe in anything not explained by science. But for some reason, her world changes when she meets her professor Kim’s younger brother, Taehyung. Maybe it’s his eyes, or the way they always seem to find each other, or how for some reason she has the need to be near him. Whatever it is, she can’t explain it, and ‘it’ shakes her world and all that she knows about it far more than she ever thought it could. ”

wolfsbane: bloodlust by @springbean ☂︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03.

⤷ werewolf au ; vampire au ; period time au

“it was easy to think that things had ended. with the silence and serentiy that had fallen in the wake of the events of past Halloween, I fell into a beautiful stupor of a timless fairy tale with Taehyung. finally, together, alone and at peace. but everything good must come to an end-even I know that. I should have suspected sooner though, because now I fear that we are too late to stop what has already begun. I cannot control what is within me…but the worst part, is that I don’t know if i want to.”

to tame a god by @jeonstudios ✓ ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. final.

⤷ supernatural au ; wolf au

“Jeon Jeongguk is the youngest alpha his pack has ever seen, and they all trust him with their lives. One day, a strange wolf enters his territory. They know it’s not a regular wolf, because just like their own, its eyes shine with the supernatural powers from within. But it won’t shift back to its human form to reveal its intentions.”

mercurial by @versigny ☂︎ ☹︎ ♥︎

01. 02. 03. 04.

⤷ vampire au

risk it all by @httpjeon ✓ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05.

⤷ hybrid au

“ripped from your family, you find yourself in a warehouse filled with predators. just your luck, you’re right across from a caged alpha wolf.”

lucifuge rofocale by @gvksp4ce ☂︎ ✝︎

01.

⤷ soulmate au

“I want you to submit to me, fully and wholly, obey every command slipping from my lips. You will bond your rotten being to mine, will carry my offspring, will sign with my name, and I don’t want to hear a single complaint, because this is the best option I have to offer below the million covers of dirt, soil and death.”

Or: The leader of hell’s southern kingdom didn’t expect his mortal soulmate to be the exact opposite of what he imagined for centuries

drown for you by @jeonstudios ✓ ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 07,5. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12.

drabble: 01.

⤷ sci-fi au ; merman/siren au

“There was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. All you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.”

undead by @imfires333 ☹︎

01. 02. 03.

⤷ vampire au

“Your world turns upside down (quite literally) when you wake up to find a mysterious man who tells you you’re undead.”

since day one by @rmverse ✓ ♥︎ ✝︎

01. 02.

⤷ werewolf au ; boxer au ; tattoo artist au ; friends to lovers au

“You’ve been friends for years, and when Jungkook decides to take on boxing gigs to earn some extra cash, you’re apprehensive about it but decide to support him nonetheless. It was your role as his designated best friend. But one night, during the first fight that you decide to attend as his supporter, everything completely changes.”

kiss the girl by @guked ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02.

⤷ mermaid au ; prince au

“kiss you? i wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last woman on earth—or even if my life depended on it!

or…

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince.

which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.”

paralian by @kpopfanfictrash ✓ ✝︎

01. 02.

⤷ pirate au ; merfolk au ; royalty au

“Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).”

harvest moon by @sunshyngal ✓ ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. snippet.

⤷ werewolf au

son of dracula by @katobobato ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10.

⤷ vampire au ; vampire hunter au

“Your family was slaughtered by the church. You, the last of your bloodline, the only defence humanity has against the vampires. You had been alone for most of your life. Until you met him, the son of Dracula.

“What do you want from me, human?.”

tooth and claw by @johobi ♥︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03.

⤷ werewolf au

“Sympathetic to the plight of the werewolves your kind have culled to near-extinction, life as a human informant has never been one of safety. However, when you catch the eye of an alpha, your situation only grows more perilous.”

flesh and blood by @kinktae ✓ ✝︎

01. 02. 03.

⤷ zombie au ; post-apocalyptic au

“You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren’t always required when it comes to love.”

moonstruck (feat. tae) by @jeonsweetpea ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

⤷ werewolf au ; vampire au ; supernatural au

all through the night by @underthejoon ☂︎ ♥︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

01.

⤷ werewolf au ; royalty au ; childhood best friends to lovers au

“Jungkook, Prince of the Werewolves, must mate before he can take his rightful place as King. How you, a human, became one of the candidates for his Queen is a mystery to all – including you.”

lost and found by @monggu-eomma ♥︎

01.

⤷ vampire academy au

“Jungkook is a Dhampir training to become a Guardian. His whole life he had been taught that “they come first” and that he is meant to guard and protect. In the middle of the field exam, Jungkook tries to wrestle with unanswered questions while protecting you at all costs. “

lunacy (feat. jin) by @jincherie ☂︎ ☹︎ ✝︎

prologue. 01.

⤷ wolf au ; mates au ; college au

driving me wild by @koorara ♥︎

01. 02. 03.

drabbles: 01. 02.

⤷ demon au ; roommate au

“you accidentally followed your roommate to hell. the thing is you have no idea he is the youngest demon prince, Wrath.”

the crimson shell by @angelicyoongie ✓ ☹︎ ✝︎

01. 02. 03. 04.

⤷ mermaid au ; yandere au

“you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.”

masterpost // next

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vulpesse-arc · 4 years

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UNPROMPTED MAIL FOR THE FOX ! ✿ always accepting. @ioniacriminal has asked: Languid steps were given towards the female oblivious of his presence, a smirk undulating upon his lips, exhibiting elfin canines. He did not announce his arrival – instead, he broke off the distance existing and pressed a chin atop her shoulder, whispering against her ear. ❛ Smells like heaven, but feels like hell. A perfect combination for the havoc you often cause. But hey, the world is indeed small... That, or destiny does bring us together. Yet again. ❜

Ivory complexion rises aglow in lines of painful and fervent goosebumps. HE TOUCHES HER and the darkness ridden chasms within her breastbone instantaneously twists with AMOROUS ARDOR, deftly birthed by a special type of wickedness that is neither human or bestial, but something entirely in-between. For how long, does he intend on bringing forth this HOLY WAR between predators, between the FOX and the WOLF ?

Previously proudly arched spine now seems to mold itself into something new in pursuance of allowing the vulpine-she to literally CRADLE her petite silhouette into his much bigger one ( a romantic would have probably even claimed that the all-mother had carefully ensured that they could fit together, a union dictated by destiny and cruel gods ) , whilst her visage is brought close to his own with the sole purpose of cozily NUZZLING against him, against his rough and tanned skin, against flesh that still carries the acrid odor of unfairly spilled ichor. Unnaturally loud is the INFATUATED PURR that thunders across the entirety of her frame, accompanied by a harsh breathe to bubble bosom and by the prompt apparition of mischievous malice that is easily smeared ‘pon each line carved out of ivory features. It would be so easy to hurt him... It would be painfully easy to violently retaliate for the SCAR that he has imposed ‘pon her once unmarred flesh / A memento of someone she wouldn’t have been capable of forgetting even if she truly wanted to.

❝ And I almost believed that you had begun to search for me on purpose... Oh, my poor heart !! How will it ever heal from such a wound ? ❞ Teases the woman, raising a single hand in order to delicately press her palm against the opposite side of his visage, as if to hinder him from interrupting the physical contact between them ; head turns just enough to allow the she-fox to brush luscious lips against his sharp cheekbone, as she lingers against his skin for no longer than the strictly necessary time to pepper him with fleeting kisses. ❝ Do you BELIEVE in destiny ? I might have to reconsider my beliefs. ❞

#.• ❤ ─ ▸ HEARTS at war into the dawn. ╱ ❪ ﹠ v. main ❫#ioniacriminal #listen !!!#they're terrible but #i highkey love them a lot :(#♡♡♡

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Pairing: Iron Man!Chanyeol, Pepper Potts!Reader

Rating: PG13ish for uhh sexual fantasies? 😂and language (probably)

Genre: Exovengers AU (because why not)

Word Count: 1,769

A/N: HAPPY FRIDAY @yeoldontknow ily 💕💕💕I haven’t dug enough into the Avengers world, so this entire backstory/scenario is probably very not canon, but it should be a fun ride 😘

When you step out of the elevator, holding your resume neatly tucked in a plastic folder, the first thing you notice is all the windows. From the street the building looked imposing. From the top floor it feels awe-inspiring.

The wide lobby is polished and sparsely decorated. The desk that you assume his future assistant will occupy is empty, along with the room itself. You purse your lips, you’d assumed that the interviews for Park Chanyeol’s assistant would bring a crowd of well-qualified applicants. But for now, there’s only you.

The thick wooden double doors, that presumably lead to an office, are closed, and you take the moment to inspect your blouse and slacks for lint and wrinkles.

Appearance isn’t everything, you know that. But it does convey a lot about a person, especially to someone as flashy as Park Chanyeol. You walk over to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and look down on the bustling street below.

For someone who describes himself as a genius and a playboy, he’s notoriously private. And for someone who touts his wealth, he certainly seems to enjoy the title of billionaire more for amusement than for self-confidence.

You’ve done your research - his technology and inventions have helped millions, but alongside the cars and suits and lavish vacations you know he donates just as much if not more to children’s charities, women’s shelters, STEM equality programs in local schools, and, surprisingly, more than a dozen animal welfare organizations.

You wonder what he’ll be like, up close and personal, behind closed doors. If the bravado is indeed the entirety of the man, or if there’s more beneath the surface. You pull your lip between your teeth and work at it as you consider him.

Moments later you hear the creak of the door open and turn to see him face to face. He’s far younger in real life, with a boyish enthusiasm.

‘Nice to meet you,’ he says, hair askew and dressed in a plain white shirt and fitted jeans. ‘Sorry for the wait, I got carried away on this latest project.’

‘Not at all, Mr. Park,’ you say politely, extending a hand to shake his and looking at your watch. ‘Believe it or not, you’re right on time.’

He grins at that, wide and wolf-like and full of good humor. ‘I’ll be damned. You’re already keeping me on a schedule,’ he laughs, shaking your hand.

When he stands this close you can see freckle on his nose, the cut of his arms under the fabric, the playfulness in his eyes. His presence does something to you, makes your skin feel too hot and your clothes too tight; you’re not sure you like the way you feel slightly out of control.

‘Come on in and have a seat.’

You follow him into an even more impressive space, with views all the way out to the harbor. A pile of parts sits on a wide work table surrounded by tools. Several vintage video games line a back wall - Packman, Space Invaders, Galaga, Asteroids. You almost trip, thinking about the hours you’d spent relieving stress on Joust in the basement of the student center during your MBA.

He leads you to opposing plush couches in a lowered dais. ‘Would you care for anything to drink?’ he asks, moving to a standing bar.

‘It’s… ten in the morning Mr. Park,’ you say, raising a brow. ‘I don’t normally drink at job interviews.’

‘Then you haven’t been working at the right places,’ he says, tilting his head. ‘Please, call me Chanyeol. But I guess you’re right. Best not to start off this working relationship by forcing you to hear my drunken rendition of My Sharona.’

You snort and attempt to hide it behind your hand. He sprawls on the couch, resting a hand along the back and crossing his legs. You sit neatly in the middle, crossing your ankles and folding your hands on top of your resume.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Park,’ you say, assuming the focused and professional voice you’ve mastered at this point in your career. ‘It’s an honor to interview for you.’

By now you can play high-ranking impressive men like a violin. You know the drill, much as it grates you. Have an MBA, be clearly competent, but not too competent and impressive that he feels put off. Flatter him, a little, but not excessively.

Mention your skills, the languages you speak, but don’t mention your ambition, the hunger in your bones to make a difference, to do work you care about. Definitely don’t mention that you graduated Summa Cum Laude.

Bring up the changes you helped make at the last Fortune 500 tech company before getting bored and seeking something else, but always demurely frame it as a team effort. Even if the ideas were all yours, even if the lion in your chest wants to roar with pride at all you’ve accomplished.

‘So, tell me about yourself,’ he starts, watching you like a hawk as he runs a hand along his chin. ‘And not the stuff I could, and have, read on your resume,’ he says, cutting you off firmly when you open your mouth to begin your neatly prepared summary of who you are.

You sit for a moment, considering him, meeting his hungry gaze with your own. Everything you’ve read about him, all the interviews you saw on TV, tell you that he values honestly.

So, you decide to allow yourself to be honest.

You set the folder on the couch beside you and place your purse on top of it. With a smile you mimic his pose, easing back against the plush material and crossing your leg onto your knee. Taking up more space than you’d allowed yourself before.

‘I’ll start by saying that I’m smarter than just about everyone I meet, though you might give me a run for my money,’ you say evenly and he laughs.

‘I don’t say that from arrogance, just from fact. I’m also an excellent judge of character. I find that figuring out who someone is and what they want as soon as possible saves time and makes my job easier.’

He raises a brow at you, eyes flaring with something you can’t name but that you feel across your skin like leaving an air conditioned building and stepping onto the street into a sweltering and sticky summer’s day.

He motions for you to continue.

‘When not working I enjoy a nice glass of red wine, walking through The Met late at night, and vacationing on the Italian countryside. But none of that matters, really. Because I’m a workaholic, like you,’ you say simply with a casual shrug.

‘If you hire me, I’ll be the making of you.’

He chuckles, the sound low like rolling thunder, as he fights a grin. ‘In what way?’

Your eyes are the flint that strikes flames in his. ‘In every way.’

He nods to himself. ‘I see. What do you see when you look at me, then? What do I want?’

You take a look around the office; take in him on the couch, sizing him up. He expects you to rush, to name the obvious in an attempt to impress him. But neither of you got to where you are by following well-worn grooves of thought.

‘You want to win, to be the best. But not from a place as small as your ego,’ you start and he gives away his surprise with a press of his lips. ‘You crave the challenge of making the impossible a reality. And you long for someone to be able to challenge you, to push you.’

He watches you silently and you carry on. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you find something in him that mirrors a part of you that you’ve kept locked away.

‘After all,’ you say softly.’ ‘Even if you can get the high score on Pong by yourself, it’s more fun to play with a partner.’

He catches your meaning and looks away at the floor. You wonder if he realizes how much he conveys with his expressive eyes. If he can sense the loneliness and drive within you reaching out for the answering energy inside of him.

You wonder if he’ll tell you to fuck off and leave, or if your presence feels like a relief, a call answered, like his does for you.

‘But what do you want?’ he asks, turning back to meet your focus.

You tilt your head and smile at him. ‘Quid pro quo, Mr. Park. If you’re as intelligent as you appear to be, you tell me.’

He folds his arms at his chest at your challenge, swallowing a smirk and assuming a pensive look. His gaze trails down the length of your body, hungrily picking apart the careful facade you’ve created.

He meets your eyes and holds your attention, not allowing you to look away from him. With a soft sigh you pull your lip into your mouth again.

‘I think you’ve been doing quite a number of things without a partner. For far too long,’ he says assertively, eyes lingering at the swell of your chest.

Without meaning to, you imagine yourself on his lap, fisting your hands in his hair. You imagine his mouth, hot and wet on your neck, his hands, firm and rough, holding your hips while you straddle him.

You imagine yourself splayed out on his work table, legs draped over his shoulders while he tastes you like he’s trying to find the secret to what makes you tick.

You imagine what he’d look like against the tan carpet, naked and begging to come.

You imagine the things you could create together that have nothing to do with technology or business, and feel your cheeks get hot. With a slight tilt of your head you nod to him and he smiles with a triumph that matches your own.

‘So, how about you start tomorrow?’ he says nonchalantly, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

‘That sounds perfect,’ you answer, standing. ‘Does eight work for you?’

He motions for you to lead the way. ‘Excellent. I’ll email you over a list of the documents you’ll need to bring with you tomorrow.’

‘You already had it, by the way,’ he says, leaning agains the door, holding his hand out to you. ‘Since we’re being honest. I didn’t even respond to anyone else.’

‘Oh, I know,’ you say, shaking his hand firmly before turning.

The sound of his rich laughter follows you all the way to the elevator.

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fanfic #exo fanfic #exo x reader #exo au #exo smut #chanyeol smut #chanyeol au

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shreyamistry · 5 years

Text

Loveshed on the Battlefield - Kenna x Annelyse

Pairing: Kenna x Annelyse

Prompt: “I would honestly die before I let anything happen to you.”

Word Count: 1.9k+

Summary: The battle against Azura ends differently for Kenna and Annelyse, altering the entirety of their lives and relationship. While their worlds crumble, they have to deal with the aftermath of emotions.

A/N: @glowinghelena (-: protect your heart !

Thanks for reading! Hope you like it!

* * * * * * * *

Annelyse lays on a lone mattress inside the medical wing of the castle, her body limp and lifeless in her private room away from the mass medical area. Her thick black hair lay messy and dirty on her pillow, her skin dangerously pale, and her breathing shallow enough to think she wasn’t. The battle won, but every win comes with a price and Annelyse bore the price on her shoulders. Her gold dress and accessories traded out for a simple nightgown still flush with gold coloring.

Kenna sits on the edge of the mattress, her hands buried in her face with tears etched onto her cheeks staining her skin with the pain she’s felt the past for nights since they’ve won the war. People cheered in the street for their win, while those close to Annelyse mourned and cried. Raydan nearly impossible to find and the warriors of the queen’s homeland lingering in the wake of the accident unable to bring themselves to leave their queen and report the sorrow news. Kenna brushes her hair out of her face turning to look at Annelyse, her face slacked and unmoving leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Kenna can’t pry her eyes away hoping every second Annelyse will wake up her eyes noticing the caked-on dirt from the war, remembering Annelyse on the forefront when all hells broke loose before slipping away with soldiers to bring them to the infirmary. She’d trade everything in the world to be in that moment, spare Azura, concede, anything to get her to save Annelyse’s life as she’s seen her do before. Suddenly feeling swollen with rage at the thought of Annelyse saving lives only to come to the edge of perishing in battle, she pushes herself out of the bed marching into the hall to find the first servant she could.

“You there!” She yells taking in the sight of a young man with brown hair and tanned skin, “Why hasn’t Annelyse been properly cared for? What reason is there for her face being dirty and her hair starting to matt and tangle?” Kenna folds her arms over her chest, her statue tall and resilient against the emotions stirring in her chest.

The young man begins to explain, “Whitlock-”

“I don’t want your excuse, bring me a washcloth and her favorite brush.” Kenna demands, “In the small box in my room, she left it with me before the battle.“ Guilt swell inside her, glancing down at the floor.

“My queen, I urge you to hear me-”

“I gave you an order.” Kenna throws her hands in the air leveling a glare at the young man before her, who shakes with fear. “When she wakes up and realizes herself to be dirty that will cause more distress than almost dying.”

“Yes, my queen.” The man nods, turning to rush down the corridor towards the main part of the castle. Kenna takes a deep breath, before turning around and marching back into the room in which Annelyse rested. Leaving the beautifully trimmed architecture behind while the man fetched her belongings.

Kenna waits a few moments before footsteps are heard outside the room, the rapping off knocks on the door before someone pushes the door open. Her mechawolf pup rounding into the room with excitement, running in circles yelling for Kenna happily. Kenna turns her attention to Whitlock who carries a bucket of water with the other supplies Kenna asked for a solemn look gracing his features. The pup brushes against Kenna’s leg before scattering under the bed his eye caught by something underneath.

“Whitlock, I care not for a lecture. Please.” Kenna traces her hand down Annelyse’s shoulder taking in the state of her lover yet again. She fights with memories and emotions that try to grip her and take control of her mind. She needed to stay within reason, push them away, and be there for her love while she could.

“Kenna, I know you’re hurting,” he says stepping into the room closing the door behind him, “But yelling at those helping Annelyse will not wake her up faster.” He places the bucket and the towel with her brush wrapped inside on the table near the door. He unwraps the brush, before placing the cloth towel into the bucket.

“Blue Lady, why is she sleeping?” Sparky asks from the floor, his face flooding with curiosity.

“Not now,” Kenna says to the wolf patting his head, “Whitlock, I wouldn’t need to lash out if her face wasn’t dirty. You all need to treat her like a queen and care for her the way she did for us.” Kenna’s tone defensive even though there were no reason for her to act that way, the event leaving Kenna lost and confused constantly.

“Kenna we all cared for Annelyse and still do, stop shutting yourself away. Have you even considered what will happen if she doesn’t wake up?” Whitlock asks, “With respect my queen, this isn’t you. I know you’re frightened by the possibility, but let us help you and be here for you. You couldn’t have changed the outcome.”

“I-”

“Kenna, you couldn’t.” Whitlock steps to her. “You did everything you could for Annelyse. Now let us do everything we can for her and for you.” Whitlock approaches her with the wet washcloth, her slick with wet tears threatening to spill, her lips parting to find words that never come. He brushes the cloth over Kenna’s face, cleaning her own dirty face and wiping away some of the dried tears. Instead of thanking him, she wraps her arms around Whitlock smaller frame crying into his chest. Whitlock stiffens at first, before holding her back his mind flooding with thoughts of Hex and how he felt when he thought he lost her and knew he should comfort her the way he wished he was. He rubbed her back as the mechawolf pup jumps onto the bed brushes against Kenna’s body digging his face into the embrace to coat her face with sweet kisses.

Kenna absently strokes him with one hand, the other arm holding tightly onto Whitlock, her mind falling back to the fateful night three days ago that has left Annelyse on a constant brink of life or death. Her body stiffening as the thoughts overwhelm her, throwing her into the memory without letting her look away consuming her no longer being able to run from the horrid memory.

Kenna stands with her blade in her hand, blood running down her lip looking directly Azura. Her eyes wicked with hate and pride as she pushes Kenna to her breaking point, the warrior queen still had fight in her, but she felt no match for Azura in the moment. Kenna huffs and puffs, her breath heavy in her chest as she watches the lightning queen snicker at her, how she couldn’t wait to wipe that look from her face.

“Well, Kenna Rys, are you done?” she draws her hand back building up energy inside her fist. “Or would you like me to end your life?”

“I will never concede to you, witch.” Kenna growls, before spitting her blood onto the ground, tightening her grip of the blade that Annelyse gave her back in Annelyse’s home when they rushed in to stop dragon Dom. “You will never have your hands on the Five Kingdoms as long as I breathe.”

“Then, let’s put an end to your breathing.” Azura smiles. She moves to let loose her electricity when a blade connects with her back pushing through her body her hands instantly moving to the wound as she crumples onto the floor her eyes burning with hatred. “What?” Blood spills from the wounds as she touches the blade in her side.

“Annelyse?!” Kenna yells, Annelyse stands with blood on her skin as she draws the ornate blade from the lightning Queen’s body, dropping the blade onto the floor her mouth opened in shock looking to Kenna and back at the dying woman. Light erupts from the queen as Kenna yells, “Annelyse!” Dashing forward to protect her, put herself between Annelyse and the lightning Queen’s wrath. The blow, however, strikes too late. A small dagger controlled by the lightning queen’s magic plunges into Annelyse’s stomach before clattering to the floor with a metallic clink splattering red blood onto the floor as it comes to rest. Blood flowing freely from her wound, Annelyse crying out in pain her eyes glossing over. Annelyse doesn’t have time to register the blow completely before Azura’s magic engulfs her, Annelyse flies into the wall her body smashing against the brick with intense force as Azura holds her wound in one hand the other towards her Annelyse. Annelyse screams in agony as she falls onto the floor trying to push herself up to no avail.

“Your beloved will fall with me.” Azura gasps, “You will not win without the same lose as I have suffered. You can steal my daughter, my home, and all I have fought to preserve. If only you had joined me, Lady Kenna.”

Kenna rushes her, her blade drawn striking Azura with a final blow, her body falling limp to the floor pooling her corpse with her fresh blood. Kenna rushes past the avenged queen, rushing to Annelyse’s side, instantly taking the wounded woman into her arms, her tears sting her eyes as she looks down at her form. “Annelyse, why?”

“I would honestly die before I let anything happen to you, Kenna.” Her frail voice shattered Kenna’s heart in her chest, trying to hold back the tears that continue to burn in her eyes. She takes Annelyse’s hand kissing her kiss. “Kenna, I don’t have much time.”

“Annelyse,” Kenna sobs her hands tightening around her body, her skin purple with bruises from impact against the brick wall and her hold weak against Kenna’s hand, tears linger in Annelyse’s eyes as well. “You...I... Annelyse…Please don’t say that, someone will come and we will heal you.”

“The safety of The Five Kingdoms and you mattered more, my love,” Annelyse coughs, “Tell ...tell Raydan he is to watch over our home. My last wish as queen of Aurelia.”

“Annelyse,” Kenna gaps, “It won’t be your last.” She rests her forehead against Annelyse’s own, stroking her cheek with one hand. The tears roll down her cheeks as she leans down kisses Annelyse on the lips, her movements gentle against her injured lover. Annelyse kisses her back with the final ounce of strength she could muster, her hand still holding Kenna’s tightly as she could. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you Annelyse, this war will mean nothing without you beside me.”

“I love you, Kenna.”

“Annelyse? Annelyse?! ANNELYSE?!” Her hands shake Annelyse’s shoulder earning her no response, her tears falling loosely as she holds her body close to her. “HELP! SOMEONE! HELP!” She musters her weak strength to help her brace Annelyse’s weight in her arms, her body heavy with soreness from the battle with queen moving out of the throne room to find her people. “HELP!” Her cries going unheard as she runs with Annelyse’s body to find help.

Kenna gasps the memory leaving her as she holds tightly onto Whitlock still, Sparky in her arms nuzzling against her face to comfort her. Her heart falling in her chest, taking a look at Annelyse’s form on the bed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Wake up Annelyse, wake up.

#annelyse adair #kenna rys #kenna x annelyse #playchoices #the crown and the flame #tcatf #annelyse x kenna #my writing #the antoni to my tan #y'all wanted a twist !#i would honestly die before i let anything happen to you and then she maybe died ! wig !#prompt #request

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mysticmousecat · 2 years

Text

Excerpt from "So, You Want To Be A Professor" - Part 2 - Viktor x F!Reader

#arcane viktor #viktor x reader #league of legends #arcane #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor #lol #arcane netflix #lol viktor #jayce #jayce talis

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 years

Note

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

#eps writes:#fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #werewolf au #dbh josh #dbh north #dbh markus #dbh simon

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rosalind-of-arden · 5 years

Text

A Rome flashback

Here I am writing all this nice, fun porn, and my brain apparently needs to balance that out, so it gives me this. I may or may not end up using this in my post-Rome fic.

Warning, this is pretty dark and violent, with both physical and psychological torture and the death of an unnamed character. The frame narrative is taking place very shortly after Wolfe’s return from Rome.

The tray of food was nearly incomprehensible in its scale and variety. Sitting in his bed, propped up against pillows without which he would collapse, Wolfe stared at the meal Santi had presented to him, unsure of where to even begin. Soup, bread, tea, a little piece of cake. Cake, of all things. And an orange.

His eyes lingered on the bright fruit, and the memory came so vivid and clear that the tray and the room and even the man he loved faded from his view until all he could see was that orange sphere.

It had rolled inexplicably to a stop in front of the bars of his cell, and the chain fastened to his ankle had been just long enough that when he stretched himself out, he could reach through the bars and grab it. He’d gone so long without food that he bit into the thing skin and all, and even the bitter skin tasted like a gift from the gods themselves. He’d been licking the juice and scraps of pulp from his hands when the guards came.

They knew. Of course they knew. He hadn’t yet had a chance to lick the drips of juice from the floor. They hauled him to the room at the end of the hall, strapped him to an iron frame, and beat him until he vomited up the orange in its entirety, along with every drop of acid his stomach held.

That would have been bad enough, but then came the sharp sting of the needle and the shifting and warping of his senses. And then Qualls brought the man in. The man he said had rolled that orange down the hall from his cell to Wolfe’s. Tall, muscular, dark hair and tan skin. The man could have been anyone, but in the haze of drugs and starvation and agony, Wolfe saw Niccolo Santi.

Wolfe would never forgive himself for failing to see the man’s real face.

The guards brought the man up to Wolfe, and Qualls ordered him to kiss his lover goodbye. The man had kissed him, hesitant at first, then passionate, as if it was his only hope of survival. And Wolfe had kissed back.

It would have been easier if he had, in that moment, been certain it was Nic. But by that time, he’d heard too many lies, hallucinated Nic at his side too many times, to fully believe it. Still, he’d kissed him.

He wouldn’t forgive himself for that, either.

And then the real torture began. They bound the man to the table in the middle of the room and took him apart, piece by piece, injecting drugs and cauterizing wounds to keep him alive and screaming far past the point at which he should have been claimed by merciful unconsciousness and death.

Wolfe could not look away. They beat him when he tried, held his head in position and his eyes open when that was no longer enough. He watched the stranger who looked like his beloved die, and he couldn’t even remember the poor man’s face.

When it was over, they’d thrown him back in his cell, chained at the wrists and ankles with chains too short to reach the cell door. Days, or at least what seemed like days, passed. And then Qualls had come, carrying a bowl of flavorless stew that Wolfe devoured with animal desperation, all but mindless in his starvation.

Wolfe wished he could be sure that Qualls lied when he said the meat in it came from that poor, murdered man. He wished he could remember whether there had been any meat in it at all.

He’d been too weak to even cry then, but he cried now with heavy sobs that shook his whole body as Nic held him, rubbing his back and speaking reassuringly. He clung to Nic while the horror and grief tore their way through him, leaving him shattered and shaking by the time the tears stopped. It hurt to cry so hard with his body still weak and wounded. He deserved nothing less.

Nic looked at him with confused eyes. Even if he had figured out how to speak again, Wolfe wouldn’t have known what to say, how to explain, so he just buried his face in his lover’s chest, overcome with gratitude and guilt.

#the great library #wolfe/santi #rome flashback #torture #whump #fanfic #dark #hurt/comfort #wip maybe

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sugaskully · 5 years

Text

DIE FOR YOU - chapter one

ALL PARTS - Die For You

BTS bodyguard au

Words: 3110

C H A P T E R - O N E

[ 14 NOVEMBER 2018 ]

CLEOBELLA

I woke up the next morning to a knocking on my bedroom door, the unfamiliar sound confusing me as I sat up, wincing in pain that centred around my forehead. I usually woke myself up due to the fact that my dad was always working and my classes started at 5pm, I had no real reason to wake up at this ungodly hour.

“Come in.” I called, rubbing my eyes as I moved to cross my legs, sat atop my oversized bed as my dad entered the room, crossing to the bay windows before opening both sets of curtains, letting the light in “What’s going on?”

“You’re meeting your security personnel today.” He simply said, heading back towards the double doors “Then I have a business meeting, you will find something to do for the time being and later we’ll have dinner. Your classes have been cancelled for tonight, after what happened yesterday.”

“Dad, honestly I’m fine.” I sighed, my head disagreeing with my statement instantly.

“Honestly, you don’t look it.” He admitted, “You have about twenty minutes to get dressed and look alive again, Bella-Bear.”

“Twenty minutes?” I scoffed, “So I’ll take forty then.”

“As you always do.” He smiled, closing the door behind him as I let out a breath of air.

Time to see if I did actually look as bad as a feel. I slowly slid out of my bed, trudging along to my ensuite bathroom, heading to the mirror above one of the sinks to see the horror before me.

My plaster had fallen off sometime during my sleep, revealing a very swollen and very purple bruise, the area around my eyes darkened slightly due to the impact of being hit with the butt of a gun.

“Oh my god.” I whispered, staring in complete shock horror at my appearance “Nothing can fix this.”

I got to work, showering, blow drying my hair, washing my face but being extra delicate with my forehead as I applied different face wash treatments and creams, finishing by applying some makeup, thanking the makeup gods for concealer that helped make the situation at least a little better.

Who was I even trying to impress? Some 40-year-old ex-military bodyguards that probably wouldn’t even spare me a second glance? No. Myself. And the various business people that will probably see me at the dinner my father had planned later that day.

Once I was satisfied with my attempt at covering the damage, I moved to my wardrobe, connected through my ensuite so I could easily move from there to change and back out to my bedroom. Honestly, it was excessive, but the archetype and home designer asked me to design my room, so naturally, I went a little overboard. Every little girl dreams of designing their own bedroom when they grow up, and well, I got to live that dream to the fullest.

It wasn’t long before I was changed into a beige turtleneck sweater, tan tartan skirt, black tights and knee-high boots, planning on walking my dog after briefly meeting the men that would observe me 24/7.

Before leaving, I glanced towards the safe in my room, heading over to unlock it with my code before taking out my handgun, tucking it into the waistband of my skirt, using the oversized fabric of my sweater to cover it before grabbing my jacket just incase.

I exited my bedroom, glancing up from my phone to see one of the home security guards nod in my direction, gesturing towards the staircase.

“Your bodyguards have already arrived ma’am.” He said as I headed towards the left staircase “They’re all waiting in the Parlor.”

“Is Jesse here?” I asked, noticing how the man frowned in response before nodding slightly.

“He should be arriving later, Ma’am.” He said.

“Thank you.” I smiled, heading down the steps before glancing around at the ridiculous amount of guards in every visible room, guarding any main door that led to the outside and any potential threats.

“You are to escort her wherever she goes,” I heard an increase of my fathers voice as I headed towards the Parlor “Remain by her side whenever I am out of the country, perform background checks on any individual that she has contact with, eliminate threats to her life and-”

“Treat me like a Royal Princess.” I interrupted sarcastically, entering the room as many pairs of eyes turned to look at me “Honestly, I can manage one foot in front of the other, father, I don’t need this many people risking this lives for me when I’m not in danger.”

“Bella-bear, my Princess.” My father said, moving around the chaise lounge to hug me “You said you’d play along.” He whispered as I sighed before nodding, turning to observe the men with a smile.

All seven of them, stood side-by-side, clad in dark suits with matching ear pieces, seven pairs of eyes on me.

Ex militia. And from the looks of it were not failing in the beauty department. Hot but deadly, and completely off limits to me, as this kind of business would be strictly professional. They would protect me and I would naturally hate them for not giving me space. That’s how this works.

“Bella-bear meet Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk.” My father said, each giving me a curt nod when their name is mentioned “The top security personnel in the country, hired solely to protect my daughter as recommended by me and my dear friend and boss President Yang. As everyone within this room knows, my job is extremely important and due to the ties between the American Government and Secret Intelligence Service, as well as the South Korean Government and my job as Chief of the Secret Intelligence Security Agency it poses a great risk to the lives of those important to me. And the only life important to me is my daughter’s, and because of my status, the entirety of the world is aware of this fact.”

“So I’m going to have a security personnel following me around for the rest of my life?” I asked, slightly worried that the response would be bad.

“For as long as your life is in danger, we will protect you, Miss Roman.” Kim Namjoon nodded.

“Right, that settles it then.” My father said, clapping his hands together in contentment before checking his watch “I have a meeting in twenty-five minutes so I better head out, boys, take good care of her while I’m gone, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Seokjin nodded.

“Of course, Mr Roman.” Jungkook said, my eyes following my father as he smiled, kissing my cheek before leaving with two guards of his own.

I let out a breath of air, slowly turning back around to see that the seven of them were still watching me, either out of curiosity or cautiousness as if at any given moment I might be attacked… or maybe they were staring at the hideous bruise on my forehead?

“I’m walking my dog.” I announced, turning to leave the Parlor when footsteps followed, not just one or two like I had suspected… no… all seven, and just to confirm I turned back to see that, yes, they were all right behind me “Honestly, can’t I just bring one of you along?” I sighed.

“No less than two.” Namjoon said, “Jungkook come with me. The others, find something useful to do.”

“You’re a little young.” I voiced aloud as we began walking, heading to the kitchen where Frodo was most likely eating his food “And you did Military Training?”

“I started young, Miss Roman.” Jungkook nodded, his voice kept professional and straight to the point “Finished top of my regiment, with only a few years training.”

“Impressive.” I said, pushing open the kitchen door only to have Frodo leap up immediately, tongue sticking out as his tail wagged, trying to familiarise himself with the new company “None of you are afraid of dogs are you?”

“Of a… Border Collie?” Namjoon asked as he became Frodo’s next victim, jumping onto his back paws as Namjoon scratched the top of his head and behind his ears.

“Okay, allergic then?” I sighed.

“Negative.” Jungkook said, Frodo moving to him.

“This is Agent Wolf, confirming location. Wildfire.” Namjoon spoke, pressing a finger to his earpiece as he turned away “Rosebud is secured, will be on the move but escorted by myself and Agent Bambi.”

“Wildfire and Rosebud?” I frowned as Namjoon turned back around to face me “Code names.”

“I’m Agent Wolf. Jungkook is Agent Bambi. Wildfire is your home.” He nodded firmly, “And you’re Rosebud. Incase anyone who is a threat to you gains access to those communication devices, the code words will help to conceal your whereabouts.”

“Nobody knows who I am.” I huffed, “Just some Government Official’s daughter… why would anyone want to kill me?”

Namjoon and Jungkook remained silent, watching as I whistled to Frodo, getting him to follow me before heading back through the house and to the front door.

“How far is this park?” Namjoon asked as he headed straight towards one of the black SUVs with tinted windows and no doubt bulletproof titanium armour infused into the body of the car.

“You walk to the park.” I said, glancing down at my dog “That’s the point of walking your dog.”

“Having you out in the open like that is dangerous.” Jungkook said, shaking his head “We cannot risk it, Miss Roman, I’m sorry.”

“I have a run in with my crazy ex-boyfriend and I’ve suddenly got seven keepers?” I scoffed, shaking my head before walking towards the security gate “No, I am going to continue doing normal things and walk my dog, no matter the risks.”

“Dammit, I knew you’d be difficult the moment I laid eyes on you.” Namjoon mumbled before rushing to catch up, Jungkook on the other side of me “Just listen to everything I tell you so we can keep you as safe as possible.”

“Wouldn’t want to spoil your pay check by having my head blown off, would you?” I whispered, Namjoon and

Jungkook keeping straight faces as they continued to look ahead of us, Jungkook’s head every so often moving to rest on the gun he had tucked into the inside of his suit jacket, Namjoon’s eyes scanning every inch of the dog park we had arrived in “Don’t you find this exhausting?”

”Find what exhausting, Miss Roman?” Namjoon asked as Jungkook watched Frodo rolling around with a smile on his face.

“Dedicating your life to protecting someone else whilst they live theirs?” I asked.

“I work with six friends that I consider my brothers, doing a job that I know I’m good at.” Namjoon said, “At the end of the day, my client is my responsibility, and in this case, that is you. Saving the lives of others is thrilling, if I be so bold to state. My sincere apologies, Miss Roman.”

“No, no, it’s completely fine.” I reassured him, “It was my fault, I’m just trying to make this situation a little less awkward, by getting to know you both a little better since we’ll be spending so much time together anyway.”

“Understandable.” Namjoon nodded, “We need to wrap this up and head home, this place is not secure.”

I frowned, looking around at the various people in the park. An elderly couple walking their dogs, kids running around with their dog, couples in conversation on a few benches.

“I don’t think anybody is a threat to me here.” I said, watching as Namjoon’s shoulders tensed up, clearly not appreciating my constant need to second guess him.

“Okay, I’ll let you make the decisions.” I nodded, whistling Frodo back over, Jungkook turning to look at me, nodding curtly “After all, my life is in your hands.”

The walk back was quick and efficient, just as Namjoon must have planned it, a few pedestrians giving me odd looks as two men in suits with ear pieces followed me, Jungkook beside me, Namjoon behind, Frodo clueless as he ran ahead.

“You’ll have to make us aware of your schedule.” Namjoon said, “So I can plan ahead the safest route and ensure that nobody there is a threat to you.”

“I have night classes at the medical school a little across town.” I said, waiting as Namjoon typed in the code to unlock the security gate of my house.

“From five to ten.” Namjoon nodded as the gate opened “I am aware. I meant your personal schedule, meeting with friends, hobbies.”

“I don’t really do much else other than go to school, study, walk Frodo and go horse riding.” I shrugged, “It’s hard to make friends given my dad’s job and how I’m always busy so I usually just hang out with Jesse.”

“Boyfriend?” Jungkook asked as I snorted out a laugh.

“My bodyguard, before you seven.” I corrected.

“Ah, I see, the one who failed at protecting you.” Namjoon said, showing his I.D to the guard at the front door although me being there was enough proof I’d assume.

“He was… well, yes, but it was partially my fault.” I huffed, watching as Frodo ran off in the opposite direction inside the house. Namjoon, Jungkook and I stopping underneath the chandelier as the guard shut the door behind us.

“With us you’ll never be hurt.” Namjoon nodded, “And it will never be partially your fault because we won’t fail you.”

“Good to know.” I smiled, “Well, I’m going to study a little while my dad is away and then I guess we’ll have that dinner.”

“A few minutes please, Miss Roman.” Namjoon said, “Your room is just being checked.”

“What?” I whispered a slight scoff “There are people in my room?”

“We just ensure that it is clear.” Namjoon said, “No hidden cameras, mics, etc. Your father informed us that the house is regularly checked but you refuse to have your room checked.”

“Because, firstly I hardly let anyone in there!” I gasped, completely bewildered that my father had allowed someone to invade my privacy like that “And secondly, invasion of privacy!”

“It’s all for your own safety.” Namjoon sighed, “It’ll do you good to remember that, save us arguments in the future.”

I glared at him, crossing my arms before stomping my foot in a childlike manner, on the verge of having a tantrum but I wasn’t going to give him that, especially because he looked on in amusement at my actions.

“You listen to what we say, when we say it.” Namjoon shrugged, “You’ll stay alive and safe that way, and it’ll make this easier for all of us.”

“And if I don't?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I smiled slightly “If I make your life a living hell, what happens then?”

“I’ll repay the favour.” He said, completely unfazed by my words, making me even more frustrated due to the fact that he didn’t even care.

I span around on my heel, heading straight upstairs and turning down my hallway, stomping towards my bedroom doors which were adjacent, my eyes immediately moving to the bright-red-haired man, Taehyung, taking my journal out of my bedside table.

I stopped in the hallway, glancing over to see Jimin stood on my expensive vintage corner chair from Paris, checking each corner and crevasse of the room for cameras, I presumed.

Yoongi stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed as he observed his colleagues invading my personal belongings.

I stepped further into the room, unnoticed by any of them, turning to see that my en-suite bathroom door was open, Seokjin stood looking around before he began to search through the cupboards, pausing every so often to look in the mirror.

Hoseok was in my walk-in-wardrobe, every so often picking up an item of my clothing and frowning before he headed back into the main room through the other door, holding my most expensive item of lingerie, my face turning as red as the fabric.

“Uh, guys, do you think this is my colour?” Hoseok asked, Yoongi turning and clearing his throat when he noticed the item of clothing, Jimin reacting in a completely different way, losing balance and stumbling off the chair, saving himself from falling by grabbing my bed frame, eyes wide.

“Professional Security Personnel?” I scoffed, all eyes turning to me as Hoseok smirked, glancing from the fabric to me, no doubt trying to imagine me in it like a pervert, suddenly making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Hoseok said, still holding the garment in plain sight “I was curious who I’d be protecting with my life, it seems you’re worth a bullet after all.”

I rolled my eyes, moving to snatch the fabric from him when he held it behind him and high above his head.

“This is a key piece of evidence.” Hoseok said, “Is there somebody we should know about? You know, so we can put them on the list of cleared friends… or others.”

“Nobody to know about.” I shrugged, “It’s my most expensive piece, so I haven’t worn it.”

“Yet.” Jimin added as I turned to look at him, looking on curiously as his eyes darkened and he smirked.

“Yet.” I repeated, watching the surprise fill his face as Hoseok cleared his throat.

“Everybody out.” Namjoon spoke sternly, all eyes turning to see him in the doorway “If the place is clear, leave Miss Roman to her studies.”

Taehyung moved to hand me the journal, Hoseok and Jimin leaving the room together, Yoongi grabbing the piece of fabric from Hoseok as he passed him, Hoseok frowning in confusion as if he had forgotten, Jin following suite with Taehyung. Leaving Yoongi behind, who remained watching me, an unreadable expression on his face, my lingerie in his hand.

“Thank you.” I said as he handed me the lingerie, letting out a small smile, waiting for him to return one but he kept a cold expression, said nothing and left.

I let out a breath of air in annoyance as Namjoon moved to shut the door behind him “I’ll be just outside.”

“On guard.” I mumbled, “You don’t have to, nobody inside my home is out to get me.”

“My job is to protect you, and I don’t have much else to do whilst in your home.” He shrugged, “Stop resisting my need to do my job.”

I held his stare before turning away to gather my folders and other studies, hearing the door click shut and returning my gaze to see that I was now alone.

#bts #btsau #au #fanfiction #minyoongi #suga #yoongi #ofc #kimnamjoon #parkjimin #junghoseok #kimtaehyung #jeonjungkook #kimseokjin #angst #bodyguardau #btsbodyguard

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neganandblake · 6 years

Text

I think I liked you better when you didn't have a nice in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 174 - A fireplace and a warm mattress

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit…

MASTERLIST

Chapter 174 - A fireplace and a warm mattress

[Negan arrives back at the Sanctuary but there’s someone still on his mind as the night sets in...]

WARNINGS: Smut/Sex

The sky had become pink, tinged with purple, by the time Negan had pulled his truck up into the large Sanctuary lot.

He had left Blake's place a little over an hour ago, a heart-wrenching pain coursing through him the entire journey home.

Shit. He had missed her more than he could say, and seeing her for those few hours, rather than sate his longing for the blonde woman, had in fact only made the pain of leaving her feel far worse.

Negan gave a sigh, running a tanned hand down his face for a moment, before his eyes drifted over to Mia, who was sleeping, buckled into the seat next to him.

Her little head was flopped down onto her own shoulder and her mouth was hanging open. Obviously the excitement of today, and seeing Blake again, had been all too exhausting for the toddler.

Negan got out of the truck (leaving Lucille in the footwell, where she had stayed the entirety of his visit to Blake's too) moving easily around to the passenger door and tugging it open.

The rain had long since stopped leaving the ground sodden and wet beneath his booted feet.

He reached inside to unbuckle Mia, just as he glanced up to see Arat approaching.

"Hey….Negan," she murmured, a hint of warm concern there amongst the formality.

But Negan merely remained quiet, his focus on easing the snoozing toddler from her seat without waking her.

Mia at once gave a small grizzled whine, as Negan hauled her up into his arms with ease.

"Thata' girl, shhh," he hummed lowly, his hand moving up to Mia's tiny back, feeling her head instantly drop to his leather-clad shoulder as she resumed her sleep.

And it was only then, that Negan turned to Arat, shutting the truck's door steadily behind him trying not to wake the sleeping baby..

"Did you see her? I-Is she ok?" Arat said speaking again in a quiet voice. And of course Negan knew who she was referring to, his chest restricting almost instantly at the mere mention of her.

"Peaches' is good," he nodded, his eyes drifting to the ground, as he pressed his lips together.

Goddamnit. He wanted nothing more now than to turn that damn truck around and go out to see her again.

But he stopped, his mind lingering on this thought.

Fuck, he had enough gas, so why didn't he just grow some fucking balls and do it? He was the leader of this god forsaken place and didn't need to answer to anyone. So what was really stopping him?

Negan blinked a couple of times, his heart beginning to pound within his chest.

This was impulsive and probably fucking stupid, but right at this very second he was passed caring.

He looked up at Arat suddenly, giving a small distant frown.

"Can you take sleepin' beauty here up to Frankie an' the girls for the night?" he said, carefully easing Mia into Arat's arms before she could protest.

"I...uh...yeah...sure..but where-" Arat began, but Negan with a grin dancing its way over his lips, merely ignored the curly haired woman once more, moving around to the driver's side of the truck and sliding back into the seat.

For where he was going surely didn't need any explanation…

-------------------------------------------------------

Blake had taken her time to tidy what little mess Mia had made of the living room, before drawing all of the drapes and a lighting a couple of candles as night well and truly set in.

She had made the most of dwelling on their presence here, remembering where Mia and Negan had been, and stood, and what they had touched or commented on. The whole pace filled with more life than it had likely had in it in years.

But god she missed them both already, every fibre of her body screaming for them. Needing them close to her.

Especially Negan on this cold, damp night.

The rain seemed to have eased off somewhat, as all Blake could hear now as the crackling of the fire in the grate and the drip drip drip of the last of the excess rainwater running off the porch guttering.

She sat down onto the couch, sitting back against the cushions and closing her eyes.

She prayed that Negan would keep his words and come back and see her soon.

But gas was a difficult commodity to find at the best of time and the blonde woman knew that each time he made the trip here, that was one less run the Saviours could go out on. One less haul of loot they could bring back for the needy folks back at the Sanctuary.

And Blake knew she was being selfish if she expected Negan to come and see her too often. But still she longed for the dark-haired Saviour, his presence in this home earlier having overwhelmed her senses, bringing back gorgeous memories of night's spent together and the days too of course.

They were a good team, always had been, and Blake was so glad they had found each other.

For now, it almost seemed as though they were always meant to be, and fate had brought them together at the end of all things.

Blake let out a sigh, biting on her lip as her green eyes reached the ceiling above her head.

Mia was her ray of sunlight, making Blake's heart whole again. And Negan was like Blake's oxygen, giving her everything she needed to get better and survive. He was hers and she was his and nothing would change that.

She smiled to herself, lowering her eyes gently, hoping that her sleep tonight would be better. That she would have dreams of love and warmth, instead of nightmares that shattered her sleep into pieces.

Huffing a little, bored after so much excitement long gone now, Blake pushed herself once more from the couch, making to head into the kitchen to grab herself a cup of water from the water she had collected from the well only this morning.

But before she could move, there came a sudden knocking on her front door, sending her jumping in fright at the noise.

Blake frowned, parting her lips, worry flooding through her.

Who would be coming here now, at this time of night?

The blonde woman gulped hard, her eyes fixed now on the darkened hallway beyond the living room door.

Fuck. Sh could hide of course but to what ends?

So not knowing what else to do she slowly crept towards the hallway, hoping perhaps to get a glimpse of who it might be, just as there came another knock, louder this time.

Blake's heart pounded in her chest, as her mind desperately trying to remember where she had stashed her knife.

But she didn't need to….

...for a second later, there came another knock, and with it a low murmur of a voice outside the door.

"Peaches, open up, it's me…"

Blake stopped dead, a look of utter disbelief appearing over her face in the shadowy hallway.

But in an instant, the caramel-blonde woman had moved to the door, and tugged it open with a flourish….

…. to find Negan stood there, breathing hard, looking as though he had almost run here hair windswept and messy, chin lowered to his collarbone..

And now, even in the gloom of late evening, Blake could see the look that lingered in his eyes, one of yearning for her now. And one that Blake was surely she was mirroring as he stared up into his hazel orbs.

The handsome dark-haired man was stood before her now in the same clothes as earlier, his usual rumpled black leather-jacket, white t-shirt, grey pants. But he now had the addition of Lucille hanging loose from his left hand.

He looked like a wolf now, hungry for his prey, ready to devour her at any second.

"Negan...w-what are you doing back here, I-" Blake just about managed to utter, with a disbelieving shake of her head.

But before she could say even another word, Negan had, all of a sudden, lifted his hand to her cheek, stepped over the threshold….

….pressing his lips firmly to hers.

Blake felt herself instantly smiling into the kiss, elated, giddy at the fact that he was here again.

But mid-way through a laugh, she gave his jacket-covered chest a shove, prising her mouth from his.

"You said you'd be back in a day or two..." she said she shaking her head once more.

But Negan didn't reply, merely kissing her again and cutting her off as she audibly squeaked out a giggle into his lips.

"Negan…" she laughed.

But the dark-haired man was unrelenting now, maneuvering Blake backwards as he took a long step into the hallway, kicking the front door shut behind him with his booted heel.

Blake parted her lips, letting out a pleasurable moan as his hot tongue flicked against hers.

She heard him drop the bat in his hand to the floor, his big calloused hands reaching both her hips as he eased her backwards pressing her into the wall behind her.

Blake felt a heat emanating off of him now despite the cold night air that had already settled inside the small house, as he pressed his tall, lean form up against hers, their lips grazing each others again and again, parting and meeting audibly in the gloom.

Blake felt her lower abdomen lurch with arousal as her hands slid up and over his shoulders, her fingers threading through the dark hair at the nape of his neck.

It was the first time she had felt this way in weeks and couldn't deny now that it felt good, her panties flooding with a creamy wetness, as one of his hands reached the wall just over her shoulder, steadying himself against her.

She pulled away breathlessly. "Negan-" she tried, smiling, but Negan barely allowed his name to leave her lips, as he grazed them once again with his own.

But Blake, at this, moved her hand down to his chest, pressing her hand to his chest and forcing him to stop.

The tall Saviour pulled away from her, giving a pout at the disturbance.

"Negan, stop for a second. " Blake said, breathlessly, smiling up at him. "W-What are you doing here?"

Negan stared down at her now, his lips curving up into a wide grin as he leaned into her, his hot breath grazing her ear.

"Missed ya..." he murmured, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her pulse-point causing Blake to close to her eyes and bite down longingly on her plump and bee-stung bottom lip.

But she shook herself, frowning bemusedly at his words.

"You've only been gone two hours," she said with a gentle laugh, which caused him to pull back and look at her.

He was a wolf now waiting for her to become one too.

But Blake merely pursed her lips together, giving a long slow blink.

"C'mon," she muttered with a small roll of her eyes, as Negan dived back in to kiss her again. But this time she dodged neatly out of his reach, grasping his hand and pulling him in the direction of the warm living room. "It's freezing out here."

And from behind her she heard him give a needy groan, but follow her obediently anyway, closing the door with a snap behind him.

Levang Lucille on the floor in the darkened hallway…

Abandoned…

---------------------------------------------

Blake had been right, it was far warmer in here than that cold hallway, despite how hot under the collar Negan had gotten.

He watched the damn goddess in front of him, as she stopped just short of the mattress on the floor in front of the fireplace, before turning back to him , a smile lingering on gorgeous features.

Fuck, Negan was in love with her, and couldn't help the way he was tailing her now like a damn school-kid with his first crush.

He felt like a man obsessed, under her damn spell. Not that he fucking minded all that much of course…

Negan let out a small sigh, lifting his chin and closing the gap between the pair of them as Blake wrinkled her nose, throwing her head back in delight as Negan leaned his face in, his lips finding her throat.

"Negan...s-stop!" she managed to say in between a laugh, prising him from her once more.

He ran his tongue over his lips teasingly as she pulled away. "Can't get enough of you, Darlin'..." he growled, earning himself a shake of the blonde's head.

"Stop," she scolded once more, and this time Negan did ease off with another hard sigh.

She could be a hard one to read, and Negan wasn't going to push his luck now and risk everything with her again.

He needed her now and didn't want to be the one to make some dumbass mistake and have her disappear from his life for god knows how long. Especially as he had only just gotten her back.

So he leaned back against his legs instead, his dark eyes roaming over her soft features, watching as she cocked her head to the side, licking at her bottom lip gently.

"So, did you just dump Mia back at the Sanctuary and then drive back here to make out with me, is that it?" she goaded, with a smirk, folding her arms over her chest. Leaning all of her weight onto one hip.

But Negan lifted his hand and scratched at the underside of his chin with a single tanned digit.

"Oh hell fuckin' yeah, Sweetheart," he growled back. "Daddy's gotta get his kicks somewhere. And where better, than some goddamn love-shack just down the road with a blonde, hot. as. SHIT, fuckin’ fox!"

He gave his eyebrows a waggle, watching with glee as Blake rolled her eyes at his comment.

"Love-shack…" she muttered, with a despairing shake of her head.

"Alright then what would you call it, Peaches?" he asked. "Cause we'd practicaly fuckin' signed the damn papers for this place bein' our next vacation home before you decided moved your oh-so fine fuckin' ass in here. See, we could've been grillin' out out back, got ourselves one of those pop up pools, you coulda' been in that kitchen in there makin' us some margaritas...livin' the apple pie life."

He saw Blake gave a gentle smile,a hint of something lingering in her eyes.

Was it perhaps a yearning for all that?

Because as much as Negan joked about all that shit, there would have been nothing he could have wanted more now, than to share shit like that with her.

His mind now, as it so often did, drifting to the world as it once had been, where the possibilities of where life could have taken them, endless. And yet now that that perfect fucking American dream, of having a goddamn family, and a nice house, and even a damn dog, was nigh on impossible.

And unfortunately both of them knew now that this dream of theirs would only be just that.

"Sounds perfect," she murmured gently. "Although I can cook a mean hot dog. So how about I man the grill, while you make the margaritas."

Negan grinned at this, marvelling at her proudly.

"Oh it's a done fuckin' deal, Sweetheart," he said, with an enthusiasm to his voice.

They stared each other out for a long moment, Blake let her eyes drop to the floor for a second, before gazing back up to him once again.

"So…" she said chewing on her lip and tilting her head to the side. "...you, uhh, planning on booking a room here at Casa el Blake, or was it more of a flying visit? Because, well, it's a pretty long drive back to the Sanctuary from here and it's getting kinda late."

There was a twinkle in her eyes now that hadn't been there a moment ago, causing Negan to tilt his own long head to the side.

"That you anglin' for a slumber party with yours truly, Darlin'?" Negan growled, dipping his chin, his eyes taking every inch of her in as she turned on the spot and smiled at him over her shoulder, tossing a cushion from the couch in his direction.

"Only if you're the big spoon,"she purred teasingly, causing Negan's grin to widen as he showed off his line of straight, white teeth.

Fuck, she really was goddamn amazing…

And the dark-haired man could only let out a shuddering breath, watching as she began to unbutton her shirt, peeling it from her shoulders to reveal just a black cotton bra beneath that clung to her smooth tanned skin like it was the most expensive of silks.

"You can take the couch if you like…" she uttered in a soft voice, as though telling him he was off the hook if that's what he wanted.

But Negan gave a frown, taking a step towards her, parting his lips, his grin disappearing as he closed the gap between them.

"That what you want?" he asked in what was just a whisper, here, in the warm light of the open fire, that flickered over Blake's face, illuminating her in blushes of orange and gold.

But the blonde, to Negan's relief, let out a shallow breath, placing her hand to his chest, her fingers wrinkling the fabric.

She shook her head. "I want you with me..." she said in a mere ghost of a voice, causing, what felt like every inch of Negan, to ache with a longing for her.

And with that, Blake, toying with the zipper of Negan's leather jacket, slowly tugged it down until it was undone. Negan only releasing his breath when the blonde let go, turning away once more to shimmy her pants down her thighs, kicking them away.

Negan noticed her give a small shiver before kneeling down onto the mattress by the fire, before clambering beneath the comforter.

Once in, she gazed up at him, offering him a smile.

You gonna stand there all night?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Damn.

He was done for.

Negan's eyes lingered on hers, a small lump appearing in his throat.

Fuck, he wanted her bad, but was this her saying she wanted him too?

He remembered what she had said to him only a couple of weeks ago, about understandably not being ready for sex again.

Had she changed her mind? It was fucking hard to tell.

And so, giving a hard gulp to steady himself, Negan made up his mind...that rather than put himself in awkward position, only to be turned down by her again, he would be the perfect fucking gentleman. Of course he fucking would be.

"Well shit I thought we were goin' to be braidin' each other's hair first and talkin' about boys," he said with a teasing grin, sliding his jacket from his shoulders and tossing it backwards onto the couch behind him, before pulling his white t-shirt over his head and letting that join the pile.

He noticed Blake's smile falter for a fraction of a second as she caught sight of his bare torso, but she fixed the warm smirk back onto her features before replying.

"Some of us need our beauty sleep," she murmured softly, with a small wrinkle of her nose, making Negan's grin widen.

"Well Jesus fucking Christ, Sweetheart, if you manage get any more damn beautiful, I'm gonna have to start battin' those fuckers away with Lucille," he said with a lick of his lips as he slipped off his boots and his fingers began to expertly unbuckle his black leather belt.

Blake bit her lip, making a face of silent laughter at his words.

"Anyone ever tell you you're a total charmer?" she commented lightly after a second had passed, as Negan pulled off his pants leaving him in just a pair of black boxers.

But the dark-haired Saviour narrowed his eyes brightly, poking his tongue out through his line of white teeth. "Oh, all the fuckin' time, Peaches…" he growled back, pacing across the small space between himself and the mattress, before easing himself down onto it with a stiff groan. "One of my many qualities which makes me so goddamn irresistible to people of the opposite sex."

It was far warmer down here by the a fire, and with cold legs, Negan slid himself beneath the comforter beside Blake as she shifted over making room for him, propping up her head with her elbow and coming to lie on her side.

"That so?" she purred, smirking.

And Negan who grunted again as he shifted underneath the sheets slightly, moved to mirror her pose, a grin still lingering on his lips.

"Mmmhmmm," he murmured back huskily, his hand sliding over around her waist, tugging her suddenly into him. "Most fuckin' definitely, Darlin'"

He practically growled the words into her ear, as she squirmed a little under the covers. But this was not the squirming of the last time he had tried to hold her in bed. For this was full of something different now, as her bare leg brushed his, the curves of her body fitting perfectly in his.

Blake's delicate hand came up, her fingers threading themselves through the back of his hair, as her lips grazed against his, barely touching him but giving him enough to make him almost groan with a longing as she teased him.

The heat of the fire at this distace felt like it was burning his skin, bathing the pair of them in a orange haze that seemed to consume the dark-haired Saviour.

He felt like he was under a spell, unable to breathe, his chocolate eyes filled with a fire, locked with Blake's.

His calloused hand slid over her skin, gliding up her spine, savouring the closeness between them.

"Peaches..."

The word escaped Negan's lips with a whispered breath as her mouth hovered against his own.

His body was urging him on, his heart pounding, his cock throbbing, but still he held off, not wanting to overstep his mark.

Not wanting to fucking force Blake into things she didn't want.

But this teasing of hers was fucking killing him, another hard gulp trailing its way down his bearded throat, the movement catching the blonde's eye.

She pulled away from him for a second, her dark green eyes blown wide as she pressed herself into him, feeling the heat of her burning his skin, the scent of her filling his nostrils.

Negan let out a difficult breath, closing his eyes and groaning out as she felt her hitch her leg up over his, her fingers trailing down his chest and coming to stop just above the waistband of his boxers.

She was everything he had ever wanted now.

Far too good for him.

Like a angel sent from heaven, tangled up with him, a guy that most certainly belonged in Hell.

He felt her now press a kiss to his earlobe, her face and neck hovering in front of him.

And Negan couldn't help but let out a needy grunt, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he felt her teeth graze his ear, tugging on his earlobe wickedly.

"Darlin'..." he groaned, almost pleading with her now. "You've gotta stop this teasin'..."

But she didn't…

...In fact she did the opposite…

Her hand instead sliding down and brushing over his cock, hard and erect beneath his black underwear.

Negan gave a hard swallow, parting his lips as a frown line came to rest between his brows, feeling a drop of pre-cum leak out from his tight swollen head at this contact.

He looked at her, gazing into her eyes, the question there, that Negan barely needed answering now, as his gaze met with hers. That one look for the caramel-blonde woman he loved so fucking much, telling him all he needed to know...

Blake wanted him and he wanted her.

Oh so fucking much.

And without another word exchanged between the pair of them, Negan's mouth found hers.

She tasted good, better than ever before, if that was even possible.

And amidst trembling hands and soft moans, Blake had pushed down her damp panties and Negan's boxers were off…

...and he found himself inside her, before either of them could stop themselves.

His hand was behind the crook of her knee, her thigh hitched up around his hips, perfecting the angle between them, as hot breaths filled the room, mixed with the crackling of the fire beside them.

Blake moaned out in pleasure and so did he. Again and again and again.

Negan felt closer to her now than he had in a long time, thrusting up into her, as she held him close, urging him on, her hips moving against him like waves on the ocean.

He felt now like a man possessed. Obsessed. Infatuated. Not having felt this way about another person in his lifetime. Even Lucille, with who things had always been bittersweet between them, high school sweethearts but probably too young for what each of them had been thrown into...good sex...marriage...even a steady, faithful relationship. And as much as he had loved her, with him and Blake, this was different.

So very intense…

He needed her. She was like his lifeforce, leaving everything else forgotten, like there was only the two of them now.

And here and now, in this little white house away from everything, there was.

Negan breathed the blonde woman in, his nose sliding against the burning skin of her neck, intoxicating him.

Her scent was honey and the ripest and sweetest of peaches.

He longed for her, body so achingly desperate for hers as they writhed against each other, each coming apart moment by moment.

"Negan…" Blake murmured breathlessly, with parted lips grazing over his temples and fingers trailing down his chest.

The heat between them seemed to scorch the sheets tangled around the pair of them, even in the cool night air.

And Negan let a harsh 'fuck' escape his lips as, after when felt like eons of being locked together, needing release, that he felt Blake, her tanned collarbone beaded with sweat, arching her spine against the mattress beneath her.

And at that tell-tale feeling of her soaking walls clenching around his dick, Negan let his head fall forward against Blake's shoulder, his orgasm crashing through each of their bodies like a speeding freight train.

They held each other there in the moment, for what could have possibly been hours to Negan, all sense of time lost on him now.

But eventually, with another groan, the dark-haired Saviour rolled himself off of her, onto his side, his chest rising and falling hard as he tried desperately to catch what little breath he had left in him, feeling well and truly spent.

The tall, naked Saviour gazed at the caramel-blonde woman beside him now, both of them knowing that had been...well, that had been more than just sex.

Instead it was love, and passion, and intensity, and something that Negan knew he would never share with another again as long as he lived.

Blake caught her breath, the slightest of well-pleasured frowns grazing her own beaded brow as she lifted a hand to his stubbly cheek, her thumb grazing along the hollow around his eye and up to the scar that lingered there at his cheekbone.

"I love you.." she managed to say, in what was barely a whisper, and far more of barely held in breath that had escaped her lips almost by accident.

And Negan let his hand slide around her body, pulling her into him, waist-first, as he lifted his mouth to hers tracing her lips with his own as he spoke, in the stillness of the night...

"Fuck, I love you too, Blake," he whispered out in an earnest voice, saying her name out loud, as though the very words were etched into his soul. "I love you too..."

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged.

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gallifreyanlibertea · 6 years

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You made me cry. That was beautiful.👏🏻🙌. Can I request some Bunny and wolf? I love the sweet stuff, and these guys are naturally fluffy😂

a/n: I don’t remember what this was in reference to LOL but thank you, anon!!

Odd

“I was wondering if you had… um,” Arthur wondered what it was today. “Some sugar? White sugar.”

Alfred Jones had a sweet tooth, it seemed, because this was the third time this week he had asked Arthur to borrow ingredients for a confection he claimed to be making. And here, Arthur thought wolves were the more savory type.

Well, Alfred was different. He was… odd. Arthur remembered being scared senseless only two weeks ago, when he had moved into the house that was directly beside one that was inhabited by a wolf. Arthur had seen him as he dragged his heavy bags up the steps into his new home. He had remembered watching, wide-eyed, as his new neighbor absent-mindedly peeked into his mailbox, those large, tanned, muscular arms, hanging at the sides of a large, muscular torso- attached to large, muscular legs, and god- Arthur had felt faint. He didn’t recall his realtor telling him there was a wolf in the neighborhood! The man could’ve crushed his skull with his two fingers! He had contemplated turning on his heel and finding another home right then and there, when the wolf had looked up from reading a letter.

He had glanced back down, to which Arthur had wondered how quickly he would have to shift his belongings into the house before the wolf glanced back up in shock at the sight of a rabbit moving in next to him.

It had been not even a second later. The man had glanced back up, blue eyes wide behind his glasses, “Oh- hi, there! You must be the new neighbor.”

Yes, Alfred Jones- as he had introduced himself to Arthur, stammering and red-faced as he had stretched his hand out for Arthur to hesitantly shake- was odd.

And it had taken Arthur far too long to finally understand why Alfred had held the handshake a bit too long, pulling away with a flustered smile and a wag of his tail as he offered to help move Arthur’s heavy bags for him.

“Good afternoon!” Alfred chirped.

Arthur had blinked. It had been days after their first meeting, and Alfred already seemed comfortable enough to peer over the low fence that divided their backyards, half dressed too, and while Arthur had been in the middle of reading a rather good book.

Really, he hadn’t thought it was too hot outside. Patches of clouds blocked the sun’s rays, and a thin layer of dew rested on the grass from the rain that had sprinkled over the yard only half an hour before, so Arthur had dried off his lawn chair and taken a seat. However, as soon as he’d stepped out, Alfred came bumbling out of his own house, shirt coming clean off as soon as Arthur’s eyes rose from his book to meet Alfred’s baby blues.

“It’s boiling out here.” Had been Alfred’s reasoning.

Odd.

Alfred had tripped over the long green hose he used to water his plants. “I’m just out here to garden a bit. I love plants n’ stuff yanno. I have some… um, I have some carrots here too.”

It was funny, Arthur hadn’t recalled there being a garden the first day he’d moved in. It had seemed to appear almost mysteriously the day after: tufts of carrot tops and herb leaves peeked out of the ground, similar to the garden Arthur had set up in his own yard.

“Um, but Mr. Jones-” Arthur had put away his book, “It already rained just a while ago, I don’t know if you should be watering your plants again.”

Alfred blinked. “Oh. Right, yeah, you’re right… I guess I’ll just… go back inside.”

Arthur had smiled, looking back into his book.

“God, I-” Arthur had glanced back up as Alfred cleared his throat to speak again, “I’m really bad at gardening, aren’t I?”

“Well, if I can help in any way, let me know.” Arthur had said in response.

He hadn’t, of course, expected Alfred to ask him to come over to his backyard right this second, it’s urgent! to check on the health of his plants. “I mean, I just wanna make sure they’re not dead. You’re a bunny. Right? You guys know how to take care of plants.”

“Rabbit.” Arthur had corrected. He didn’t know why he hadn’t just conjured an excuse to keep reading. Arthur watched Alfred unhook the fence door and usher Arthur into his yard.

Needless to say, there was a reason wolves didn’t keep gardens, and Alfred specifically ought to have kept to tradition, because he was in no way competent to handle plant life.

“These plants have been watered to death, Mr. Jones!” Arthur had said with a gasp, a long blond ear twitching at the sight of shriveled, damp leaves strewn across the dark earth, as if bloated.

Arthur wasn’t surprised! Every time Arthur stepped out for some air, it seemed Alfred was outside too, in a manner of seconds, watering his plants.

Never mind it took Arthur weeks to realize the idiot wolf had been doing it as an excuse to ogle Arthur in his shorts. At the moment, Alfred had seemed like a very dedicated man. He’d seemed odd. Arthur had never known a wolf to be one for plant care.

So Arthur had helped him. He’d told him the simplest way to raise new plants and Alfred had listened intently, hanging on to every word that left Arthur’s lips.

Arthur had gone home with his chest swollen with pride at the fact that he’d been of service to a wolf of all people. See, wolves never listened to rabbits, no. The predator-prey instincts of the traits tucked away in their ancestral DNA had led rabbits to shy away from the likes of wolves, and led to a sort of wolf-superiority-complex, despite the fact that at this point, they were more human than anything, save for their few animal features.

Yet there Arthur was! He had been proud of himself to get a man like Alfred to listen to what he had to say.

Of course, Arthur came to realize later that the only service he’d provided Alfred was the red flush in the wolf’s cheeks from having eyed the contours of Arthur’s lips for the entirety of Arthur’s instruction, not having heard a word that came out of Arthur’s mouth over the beating of Alfred’s own heart because, well, Alfred had apparently sported a raging crush on him.

Arthur should’ve known! Hell, he had been oblivious every single time Alfred mowed his lawn where Arthur could see, shirt discarded as Alfred flexed his muscle for no apparent reason.

Alfred had taken up morning runs at the same time Arthur would embark on his walks- oh wow, funny to see you here, Arthur! Where are you off to? Oh- th- there? Uh… I’m going the same way, actually!

And Alfred would slow down to Arthur’s pace, every time, until Arthur’s morning walks became a time he would walk out in front of Alfred’s door, pausing momentarily until Alfred came out to join him, tail wagging.

Arthur should’ve known simply based on the number of times Alfred needed to borrow flour, or eggs, or milk-

Or sugar, as Alfred asked two weeks after they’d met.

Arthur had let him in, as always, “Are you a baker, Alfred?”

“Uh, I guess you could say I dabble?” Was Alfred’s weak reply, “I was just in the mood for making some… um… cake.”

“What kind of cake?” Arthur asked politely, searching his cupboards for his jar of sugar.

“… carrot cake!” Alfred blurted. Arthur raised a brow, unknown to the wolf behind him.

“Carrot? I didn’t think wolves liked carrots.”

Arthur’s ear twitched to the sound behind him, or rather, a lack thereof. Arthur heard a sharp inhale, and then, nothing, as if Alfred had held his breath.

“Nah, I like all sorts of… vegetables. I’m not really a meat kinda guy.”

Arthur turned at that, “You don’t eat meat?”

Alfred winced, “No, I lied. I do.”

Arthur furrowed his brows, to which Alfred sighed in what looked like defeat. Blue eyes were trained on the floor.

“Look, I mean, I could stop eating it if that’s what you want. I could go vegetarian.”

“I beg your pardon?” Arthur said, “What? Wh- why on earth would I want you to go vegetarian, Alfred? Are you alright?”

“I mean, it’s not going to be too difficult! I’ll do it.” Alfred said, as if convincing Arthur, and it really didn’t make a lick of sense to him! That seemed apparent by the look in Arthur’s eyes because Alfred chewed his lip, “I mean, I had a roommate back in college that dated a rabbit and she made him go vegan so, if you get what I mean…”

And Arthur had laughed. He laughed because he was an idiot, an oblivious bumbling idiot! “Alfred, come on now, I wouldn’t make a friend go vegan!”

Alfred had paused, eyes dragging up from the floor to look at Arthur with a look of disbelief that Arthur hadn’t understood. “A friend?”

See, Arthur had mistaken it for doubt. He’d pressed the jar of sugar into Alfred’s hands with a reassuring smile, “I don’t mind your habits, or you being a wolf, really. You’ve been a great neighbor and a great friend.”

Alfred took the sugar, eyes retreating back to look at the floor. “Right. Okay. Thank you for the sugar, I’ll- I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done.”

“Have fun,” Arthur said with a smile as Alfred shut the door behind him, and then he paused, smile melting away. The gears in his brain clicked into place as he gasped, hands cupping his mouth. “Oh!”

It was now that Arthur finally got it, it all made sense, and he was a colossal, dimwitted fool!

Of course, Alfred had just poured his heart out and Arthur had laughed and called him a friend. Although he was in no way obligated to say yes even though Alfred had asked, Alfred deserved a proper, well-meaning rejection! They were neighbors for god’s sake! They would be seeing each other every day, and Arthur had gone and made it all awkward. He’d ruined it all.

Arthur reached for the door handle. He then paused. What would he even say?

I’m truly so sorry, Alfred, I misunderstood what you meant and I- then what? I think we would be better friends?

Did Arthur really believe that?

He hadn’t given it much thought. The only men Arthur had ever dated were rabbits like himself, so he’d seen nothing in Alfred but the wolf that lived next door.

Right?

Arthur furrowed his brows, taking to pacing across the floor.

Well, since when was he in the habit of putting away a book to help a neighbor? Arthur wasn’t necessarily a ‘good bunny’. He preferred solitude to anything, yet every morning, he waited for that wagging tail and those bright, blue eyes.

Now that he thought about it, how had he noticed that Alfred would take to flexing as he mowed the lawn if Arthur hadn’t been looking out his window to watch it? He could’ve gone back to doing whatever he’d been doing but no, Arthur was watching. He was always shamelessly watching, turning away only when he felt Alfred was about to glance up and find him looking.

It seemed Arthur was just as much oblivious to himself as he was to Alfred Jones.

So before he knew it, Arthur was knocking at his neighbor’s door. Alfred opened up before Arthur could even knock the second time. “Hey, what’s up?”

Arthur froze, tongue numb in his mouth. It seemed that once he’d come to terms with everything, Alfred suddenly seemed so intimidating. Not quite in the sharp-fanged predator sort of way- rather, as the attractive neighbor next door. The two shared a similarity in that Arthur truly felt like a cornered animal of prey.

His tail twitched, but he was glad it was far too small for Alfred to see. “Have you started making the cake yet?”

“No,” Alfred said, hand coming to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “I was going to in a while-”

“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Arthur said feverishly, “I was thinking I could help since you probably don’t know how to make it.”

Alfred laughed lightly, “Yeah, I really don’t. I’d appreciate the assistance.”

He moved aside, making way for Arthur to enter.

Arthur paused halfway through the door. “Alfred, I completely misunderstood what you had said, I’m so sorry I didn’t give you a proper response.”

“Misunderstood?” Alfred said, and Arthur walked further into the house, hearing Alfred shut the door behind him.

“Well, I didn’t know you were… that you-”

“That I liked you?” Alfred completed. Arthur’s cheeks flushed in response as he turned to face Alfred.

“Yes. I don’t want you to think I’d ever want someone to change the way they are for me, or-”

“Hey, it’s no worries!” Alfred said. His tail swished behind him. His eyes twinkled in slight mirth, an expression Arthur could sense was forced. “I didn’t think you would, but you know how crazy a crush can make somebody. You don’t have to give me an answer for my sake, I’ll survive. Let’s make some cake!”

He then turned to enter his kitchen, shuffling around pots and pans, “Say, I really have no idea what to use, mind helping me out?”

When Arthur didn’t reply, nor did he move, Alfred turned to face him, smile melting into a slight look of concern. “You okay?”

“I think you misunderstood me.”

Alfred furrowed his brows. HIs grey ears flattened against his caramel blond hair in mild confusion. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you to think you’d need to change the way you are… when you’re dating me.”

And those ears perked up just as fast as a smile spilled from Alfred’s lips, as fast as he practically stumbled out of the kitchen over to Arthur, tail wagging.

“When I’m dating you?”

“Yes.” Arthur replied, cheeks tinted pink, “I was hoping this carrot cake would be our first one. Our first date, I mean.”

Silence. Alfred grinned, “Then let’s start dating.”

Of course, like Arthur had expected, Alfred hadn’t really liked the carrot cake. The wolf wrinkled his nose after the first fork-full, glancing over at Arthur with a pout, “You said I wouldn’t have to change myself for you, right?”

And Arthur laughed, brushing the flour off Alfred’s cheekbone because really, this whole situation was nothing but odd- Arthur could imagine his mother’s shrieking if he ever told her he was romantically involved with a wolf.

A wolf with sweet blue eyes, tan skin that glowed under the kitchen light, and grey ears that twitched atop his blond hair when he smiled. Arthur forked another chunk of cake into his mouth, “There’s more for me, then.”

Alfred smiled, tail wagging blissfully behind him as he leaned forward to press his elbows onto the countertop, cradling his face in his hands. “Since we’re on the topic of things you rabbits love, I absolutely hate gardening, hate everything about it. I only watered those plants to check you out.”

“I figured, Alfred.”

#my fanfiction #lovely anons #usuk #aph america #aph england #wolf!america #bunny!england #sorry for the extremely late reply but I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for anon #ive gotten REALLY rusty with the writing

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