#they broken the bottom part of one of Q's jacket to make it their own | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tg-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Nsfw alphabet with naki?

HORNY HOURS WITH IDIOT (affectionate)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he’s never quite sure what to do right when it’s over and will probably just wait for his partner to do something. He’ll follow their lead for the most part, but what he really wants is praise and cuddles. He’s one of those ghouls who really needs the post sex cuddle sessions to avoid the emotional drop

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): on himself he likes his teeth, on his partner he doesn’t like anything in particular. He’s demisexual and when he is attracted to someone sexually he doesn’t really break down what specific things he likes into parts. He’s content to just like their body as a whole

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he needs his partner to be patient with him since he doesn’t come very easily. It takes him awhile to get there and he can’t finish without his kakuhou being touched, some ghouls are just built like that but he’s a little embarrassed by it

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): though he’s more used to quick and careless rough stuff, what he really wants is to be pampered. Tell him he’s pretty, touch him gently, fuck him or ride him. Let him lay back and be taken care of, let him know that he deserves it. He’s a pillow prince at heart

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he has experience, but it isn’t all good. In the past he’s had partners ranging from distant and pushy to downright cruel. Some have been alright, he’s hooked up with people like Miza and Hooguro and really liked it, but others weren’t as kind. Plenty of people have slept with him without caring if he enjoys it, plenty have fucked him through his heat and left him to deal with the emotional drop alone, and Jason in particular was among the worst when it came to downright brutal sex. Naki wants people to give him affection and attention, but sadly Aogiri isn’t the best place to find safe and respectful partners. By now he thinks of sex as something that’s usually painful but can earn him some praise. His partner will need to be very gentle and soft with him at first, he needs to learn that he can set boundaries and that his pleasure is just as important as theirs

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): if he’s bottoming he likes missionary, He’s used to being bent over things in any abandoned building or broken into house he and past partners could find and unceremoniously fucked so being able to look his partner in the eyes and kiss them is amazing. When topping he likes doggy, he hasn’t had much of a chance to be dominant before, and he really likes the feeling of control from time to time

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he’s not going to joke around, and if his partner is joking he probably won’t notice

H = Heat (what are heats like for them? How do they handle it?): some ghouls get lucky and have brief, mild heats, and others get very unlucky. Naki is among the ladder. They’re absolutely horrible, he was unfortunate enough to end up with a heat hormonal disorder and no way to treat it so he suffers with them. They last a whole week, he has horrible cramps, fevers, nausea, unrelenting muscle weakness and insomnia. In the past he’s handled them by trying to find a decent place to hide and wait them out, but most of the time they break him and he resorts to sleeping with anyone to relieve it. It isn’t safe and the type of ghoul who would fuck someone in heat without talking it out with them beforehand isn’t the type to be kind and respectful. His partner will need to sit him down and talk about how he wants to go about it before it happens to be sure they have a plan and don’t cross any of his boundaries, and he’ll honestly be grateful for the sense of security that comes with a safe place to get through it. Just keep him from overheating, bring some painkillers, be gentle with him and maybe ask around among rich ghoul circles for doctors who can treat heat disorders and he’ll fall in love all over again

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he’s very intimate. He always holds out hope that sex will be romantic and kind and even with the kind of people he’s been with in the past he hasn’t given up on that fairy tail Candlelight-And-Velvet sex he wants. Tell him how pretty he is and kiss him and he’ll be melting in your arms

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): considering that he’s homeless, roams with a pack of people, and that it takes more for him to come than it takes others, for Naki jerking off takes more planning than you’d think. He needs to wait until he can find somewhere that he can go in private between missions, often rooms in unoccupied buildings where the White Suits are staying, and then he can relieve himself. Since he needs his kakuhou touched he rubs up against something to stimulate it. If he’s lucky he can find a living room or bedroom with pillows he can use, but if he can’t he’ll fold up his jacket. Between touching his cock and rutting his kakuhou against the pillows he’s able to get himself off every so often before slipping back into the group and hoping no one has questions about where he went

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): blindfolds. You know how when vets treat horses and deer they cover their eyes to make them less nervous? The same thing works on Naki. He’s a little uneasy when getting started and oddly enough, if he’s blindfolded and unable to anticipate movements, that fades away. All he has to do is focus on the sensations of being touched and words of praise, and any anxiety is replaced by euphoria

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): bedroom. For most that seems normal but for him that’s a luxury. A comfy bed? A door for privacy? Lights that can be turned off? That’s living like kings right there

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): genuine affection. Nothing gets him hard like assurance that he’s loved and wanted through the simple kindness he craves

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Naki has some trouble with setting boundaries, he assumes his partner will be mad and needs the assurance that there’s nothing wrong with not being comfortable with things. He’s not quite sure where to start so he’d have to say that he doesn’t like anything too rough or mean. Things like bottoming unprepared, impact play or degradation. Biting and hard grips are fine since that’s normal for ghouls to enjoy but things that are purposefully sadistic are off the table. He’s getting better at speaking up when something hurts physically or emotionally, and it feels good to be able to say no without feeling guilty about it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he prefers to give. Because he’s a ghoul, Teeth Near Dick is a valid fear and one that he’d rather avoid. Though he isn’t opposed to being the one giving head

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he can take a lot, but prefers for his partner to be gentle and slow when he’s bottoming. Though when he’s on top, he’s pretty quick, not so much that he’s trying to be rough, rather he gets caught up in feeling good and ends up fucking like a rabbit

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he hates them. He knows that “quick fuck” = “not enough time for him to finish” = “not enough time for post sex cuddles” = “huge emotional drop.” He needs to have time, he needs to have the right touches, and he needs to have decent aftercare. Quickies don’t allow for that so he isn’t too keen on them

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he doesn’t really like to. He knows his comfort zone in regards to sex and he knows that he doesn’t do well with pushing its boundaries. He’d rather stick to doing it inside, and if there’s anything new his partner wants to bring into the bedroom it would need to be gradual

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): he lasts a hell of a long time. He goes a round or two before being tapped out, but with how long it takes him to come those rounds can be awhile

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he doesn’t have any. He wouldn’t be opposed to some being used on him as long as they don’t hurt though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he doesn’t like teasing and he doesn’t like to be teased, he doesn’t see the appeal

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): I’m sure this comes as no surprise but Naki cries during sex. He does it when he’s in pain, he does it when he’s feeling amazing, he does it with any strong sensation at all so no matter what it’s just going to happen. It’s normal for him to let a few tears fall while he’s fucking, along with some pretty loud moans. What is surprising is that he’s one of those rare ghouls who purrs during sex. He doesn’t always do it because he needs to feel very safe and very good, but with the right partner he’ll be purring like a kitten

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he likes wearing things that his partner gives him. It’s a task that he can obey, it’s a physical reminder that they care enough about him to decorate him, it’s something that shows everyone who he belongs to. Whether it’s a collar or a suit he jumps at the opportunity to wear something that marks him as theirs

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): 7.5 inches, life may have screwed him over but at least his meat is huge

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): a little below average. Sex isn’t as important to him as romance, rather it’s another expression of romance, so only doing it a few times a month is enough for him. Though he’d be okay with doing it more if his partner wants to, he likes doing anything as long as it’s with them and sex can be amazing

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he doesn’t fall asleep after sex unless he’s sure he’s somewhere safe. He’s used to having to immediately fix his clothes and leave whenever it’s over, but if he has a partner who cares about him, a room that’s safe, and some cuddles to put him at ease, he’ll slowly drift off

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul headcanon #naki #tg naki #notsfw alphabet #notsfw

28 notes · View notes

calmlftv · 4 years

Text

exodus. - demon!ash

description: welcome to the surface, lost one! it’s been one year since you’ve fallen, and life is going pretty well - until you fatefully bump into the wrong man.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: strong language!

w/n: this part is honestly my favorite one for this au so far, so i hope u enjoy it! 💕if this looks a little bit familiar, it’s because i decided to work this original request into this part!

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @thesubtweeter @ashisonthefloor @ashtonsos @loveroflrh @bestyearssos @treatallwithkindness @bestyearslftv @boomerash

****

“Miss!”

The voice pulled you out of your stupor, your elbows pushing off from the bar counter as your eyes locked on your patron, mind snapping into focus again.

You sauntered over, your hips swaying a bit more than they usually do as you flashed him a coy smile. The sea green eyes followed your movements closely, a smirk on his face as you got closer.

“Yes, sugar?” You asked, sweetness wrapping around your words as you slightly leaned against his table. The female with him - most likely a siren, by her red painted talons - flashed you an annoyed glance that you ignored, eyes focused on the intense gaze of the demon in front of you.

He smiled again, teeth flashing in the dim lights of the lounge as his hand grazed your hip. “Another drink, please, darling,” he said, lifting his empty scotch glass with his free hand. You gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and nodded, taking his glass and grazing his fingers as you took it from him, smiling as you met his gaze. “And make it two, please.”

“You got it,” you said coyly, giggling as you turned away while he winked at you. You moved to the bar, setting the empty glass on the counter as you looked at your coworker, a cheeky smile and raised eyebrows on his face. His teeth practically glowed in the dim lighting of the lounge, sharp canines sparkling.

“Another refill?”

“Make it two,” you answered, mimicking the patron as the vampire chuckled. He took the glass and went to work, your hands grabbing a tray as you leaned against the counter again, your mind getting lost in your own thoughts.

You sighed. The evening was draining you, the buzz of a room full of literal demons pulling any energy you had previously stored for your shift. Only two more hours, you thought to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

It had been a full year since you had fallen, and within that year, you had finally been able to live the lifestyle you had so desperately wanted; parties over the weekends, alcohol and drugs mixing together in your stomach, and all the time in the world to do whatever you wanted. Your new found freedom was intoxicating at first, so much so that you were a bit overwhelmed, unsure of what to do with yourself until the other Fallen guided you, giving you a place to stay and helping you find work. There were so many new things for you to learn, and while you’ve come far in the year, you knew you still had a lot to learn.

“Sweets?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your fingers, two filled glasses being set on the tray in front of you. You snapped back to reality at the click, your coworker smirking at you.

“Get outta that day dream you were having, you have patrons to take care of, remember?”

You stuck out your tongue. “Daydreaming is better than staring at your ugly mug, Q.”

Quinten chuckled and shook his head, flipping you off as you grinned, turning around to bring your patron his drinks.

As you turned you felt something solid, the tray slipping out of your hands as you lost your balance and crashed into the patron that had snuck up behind you. The drinks slid off, dumping themselves all over the front of the person you just ran into before crashing onto the floor, the glasses shattering as you landed on your ass. A hush fell over the room at the sounds of the chaos, the demons and various creatures all reveling in the feeling before returning to their conversations, chattering quickly filling the silence.

“-the fuck!” A voice said, the tone having a serrated edge to it. You looked up and met a pair of fiery hazel eyes, black hair slicked back and carefully trimmed scruff adorning the face. The man’s face was furious, eyes moving between his drenched white shirt and suit jacket and back to you. “Watch where you’re going, shithead. Or do you make it a habit to ruin one of a kind suits?”

You gulped, a deep blush on your cheeks as you scrambled up to your feet. Q set a clean rag on the counter and you grabbed it, handing it to the man before he snatched it out of your hands. You noticed the countless rings on his fingers, different metals and colors glinting in the lights. “S-So sorry, sir,” you said, stuttering as he shot you another look that could kill.

He roughly dabbed at his clothes, giving up after a few minutes and sighing in frustration. He turned to the blonde, curly haired man beside him, his blue eyes neutral. “This is definitely not coming out,” he complained, his friend shooting you a disgusted look before he turned on his heel, disappearing somewhere when you blinked.

The black hair man turned back to you, tossing the cloth to you. You took it and knelt down, cleaning up the mess as the man stared, his gaze unrelenting as you set all the broken glass on the tray and laid the cloth out to soak up the alcohol.

“Who are you?” He asked when you stood again, the tray already getting sticky as the alcohol quickly dried. “I’ve never seen you working in my lounge before.”

My lounge? you thought to yourself, eyes going wide as you finally pieced things together. Your eyes landed on the mark on his neck, almost looking like an angry purple bruise with a blackish red center. It stared at you and you were immediately filled with dread, frozen in place as you stared at the man in front of you.

Fuck, you mentally cursed, his eyebrow raising as he waited for your answer.

I just ran into the King of the Underworld.

“Well?” He asked, impatient. “Are you mute?”

“N-No, sir,” you said, ducking your head down as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m just a waitress.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he said, a finger moving under your chin and lifting your face to his.

His eyes were less angry now, more darkly curious as he inspected your face. “Who are you? Give me a name.”

You bit your lip. “U-Uh,” you stuttered. “M’name’s y/n, but everybody calls me South.”

The King smirked, thumb now resting on your chin as he held your face in place. “South,” he tested, rolling the name around on his tongue as his face hovered closer to your own. He was taller than you, his eyes probably the prettiest and most captivating hazel you’ve ever seen; it was like they sent you into a trance while his thumb dragged down your chin, your bottom lip being pulled with it before he let it spring back.

Ashton chuckled darkly, his grip on your face tightening as he tugged you closer. “What are you, little thing? You smell like something Heavenly, but darker, and I certainly don’t recognize you as being one of mine.”

You bit down harshly on the inside of your cheek, blood trickling on your tongue. Behind you Q came around from the bar, bringing two glasses to the patron you had interacted with before, no doubt serving his charm well before he came back.

The taste of your blood ripped you from the trance, your face jerking back from his grip as he raised an eyebrow, annoyance on his face. “None of your fucking business,” you sassed, unable to stop yourself as you bent down and picked up the soaked cloth.

You tossed the cloth to Q, who caught it and disappeared into the back, probably thankful for an excuse to exit the tension that had built between the two of you. In the same moment his friend returned, a dry cleaners bag hanging off a single finger.

“Got you somethin’ new, mate,” he mumbled, Ashton’s stare keeping you in place as he reached up and took the bag, hanging on to it rather tightly as his jaw tightened. You kept the gaze, not giving his friend a single glance as you held it evenly, refusing to be the first one to break.

The blonde raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you before he grabbed onto Ashton’s arm harshly. “Mate,” he growled, pushing him away and forcing him to break eye contact. “Let’s go. S’not worth it, and the Court is waiting.”

Ashton looked at you again and bared his teeth before following his friend, the two of them disappearing behind the VIP curtain.

You turned back to the bar, Q now standing behind you with his mouth hanging open. A glare was shot to him and he shrank away, grabbing a clean rag and wiping down the bar.

“Not a fucking word,” you threatened, picking up a clean tray and tucking it under your arm as you walked away, pasting on your fake smile and swaying your hips as you checked in on your patrons, taking winks and tips and empty glasses until you finally got to clock out, handing everything to the other waitress before practically sprinting out the door.

Gideon tossed a sour watermelon into the air, quickly positioning himself underneath to catch it until Shauna shoved him out of the way. The man quickly toppled off the hood of the car, the woman taking his previous position and catching the candy perfectly, cheering and laughter erupting from the other Fallen around you.

Shauna stood and took a bow, Gideon huffing on the ground below her. “So not fair,” he complained, a whine in his voice.

“Life’s not fair,” you said simply, popping another peach ring into your mouth as you grinned. “Isn’t that what you always say, Gid?”

The man shot you a look and you laughed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the car windshield, the sunset bathing you in a warm, orange glow as you shut your eyes.

This was your favorite spot to be in, the warmth of the sun rays practically filling you from the inside out while Mark sat beside you. All the other Fallen were chatting and goofing around, but you just basked in the sunshine; you had plenty of chances during the week to be chaotic, but during your time at this lookout, your once-a-week get together with your friends, you were always calm, this being your own little piece of Heaven.

Maybe that’s the wrong word for it.

“South,” Gideon called, using his foot to knock your legs together. “Hello?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, the man chuckling as he hopped up on your hood with you, the metal bowing under his added weight.

“Where’s that head’a yours at?” He asked, voice a bit quiet in comparison to his usual volume. The volume almost reminded you of the way he spoke in the Heavens, soft and soothing to your ears.

You sighed, running your hand through your hair. “Just work things,” you mumbled, Gideon nodding. You knew he always understood your plights without too many words, the unspoken connection between the two of you reminiscent of one you had lost.

Gideon slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and pressing a friendly kiss to your head. “You know you can talk to Shauna and I about any of that at any time. Right?”

You smiled. “I know,” you said simply, eyes moving to Shauna as she came over to your car. She must have sensed your stress, a talent that she has yet to explain to you, as she mimicked Gideon’s movements and had her arm around your shoulders within seconds.

“Work things?” She asked. When you nodded she did the same. “Our apartment is always open, South. Absolutely no bullshit, open 24/7 kind of thing.”

You chuckled, bumping against Shauna as Gideon gave her a smile.

A couple hours later the sun had set fully, everybody getting in their cars and driving back to town in one long caravan. Some cars took different routes to hit up the parties they had heard about, others made pit stops on the way to have their own parties at home, but you drove in silence, following Shauna and Gideon home to the building you all shared together.

The Fallen community all stuck together; they were practically a family, with generations of them going back as far as you could find. One of the things that was passed down was the apartment building - one of the biggest ones in the city, it homed 57 members of the community, and nothing ever really stopped there. Fallen were coming and going at all hours, and for the most part, everybody respected the building rules and still paid up when they had to. It was the perfect living situation, and when you got into your one bedroom, you collapsed on to your bed, eyes closing immediately when your head hit the pillow.

Your dreams were fitful, filled with an uneasy sense of curiosity and fear; your feet carried you around but you went nowhere, being stuck in an endless hallway while you tried to battle your way out. Eventually, a devious smile appeared in front of you, your feet now rooted to the ground as you tried to get away.

As the mouth opened to swallow you whole you jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to your skin as you quickly sat up. You were gasping for air, eyes wildly darting around the room until you finally calmed down enough to look at the time.

You flung yourself from bed and got ready for work, feeling more exhausted than you had the night before. It took everything within you to not fall asleep at the wheel while you drove to the Vault, a heavy feeling of dread sitting in your stomach.

It was going to be a long, long day.

#5sos #5sos au #ashton irwin #ashton irwin au #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer au #demon!sos #demon!ash

38 notes · View notes

psychopersonified · 4 years

Text

Keep Calm, Dance On

Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".

I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.

This particular snippet is an excuse to write a dancing Q and the effect it has on 007.

--------

“Is that Nish’s mix of Vodka, Redbull and Ribena?” Q surprises him by reaching for the glass, fingers curling around Bond’s to pull it close and takes a sip from it.

The gesture is scandalously intimate considering they are still in HQ among colleagues - if anyone was watching, it would seem as if Bond was feeding him the drink.

---------

Notes: Inspired by Tom Hiddleston’s dance moves. If you haven't watched it, you have to! ENJOY!

———————————----------------------------------------------------

SIS HQ - Q-Branch Lower Ground Level 1

They have rigged the lights to strobe and change colours like in a club. Electronic dance music blares from the PA system. The office space on Lower Ground level 1 has been cleared, equipment moved to the edges and covered with black cloth.

Bond is nursing a violently sweet concoction that included a large percentage of Redbull, Ribena and Vodka that Nish handed to him at the door.

He sidles up to Eve catching her attention by touching her on the arm with the hand holding the drink.

“What is this?” Bond has hardly been to any social gatherings organised internally. Except formal affairs where attendance was compulsory, he’s eschewed getting too chummy with his colleagues.

Eve smiles at him a little disbelieving, “James, haven’t you ever been to one of these? Oh you’re in for a treat.”

It does not look like much is going on at the moment. A large section of the central floor is outlined and gridded with hazard tape in what looks like a potential dance floor. However, no one is dancing despite the music, preferring to keep to the edges.

“What a smashing party,” his voice dipping with sarcasm.

“Oh James, don’t be so quick to judge. Just wait—…”

And just then, the lights dim as if on cue. The outer glass doors swish open and white smoke floating low on the ground rolls into the main space. A tall slim male figure is silhouetted in the doorway. The crowd quiets down immediately.

“What’s happening?”

“Hush!” Eve bids him, pulling them into a better position.

The music picks up. The figure descends the short flight of stairs, feet quick and lithe, then comes sauntering towards the dance floor in long easy strides. The crowd parts for him.

He stops right in the centre of the dance floor and the lights brighten just enough to reveal of all people, the Quartermaster dressed in an impeccable black suit - this one for once tailored perfectly to his lanky figure. The jacket and trousers are tight accentuating the slim waist and long slender legs. The hair is still a floppy artful mess, but the back is clipped short and neat, making him look much younger than he really is - he could still effortlessly pass as a university student.

Bond chokes badly on his drink, hiding it quickly with a cough. Not quick enough. Eve’s eyes slide to the left to regard him with with a look and a smirk.

On the dance floor, Q strikes a nonchalant pose. A hand comes up to undo the single button on the dinner jacket. His hips start moving to the rising beat. The air is thick with anticipation.

Then it happens - the beat drops and Q is a sudden blur of movement. His long legs ripping up the dance floor in time with the music and with practiced ease. His movements are precise and controlled but infused with fluid grace.

There is no trace of the cloistered, sometimes hesitant and flailing chief boffin that calls this concrete cave his lair. These, my god, these are the confident movements of a young man that has done more than his fair share of clubbing in the trendy nightclubs of London.

Bond is rendered speechless. He is aware that the intense scowl forming on his face is an over compensation - to keep his jaw from hang open otherwise.

The crowd of semi inebriated colleagues ROAR, wildly appreciative. They start to close in on the dance floor.

Around the edges of the crowd, movement catches Bond’s trained eyes. He’s not the only Double-0 invited to party. He can see 003 and 006 emerge from their lurking places behind thick brick columns. Their quartermaster’s sudden display of sexuality has piqued their interest - like predators catching the movement of prey, it is almost as if they can’t help themselves.

This will NOT do. Something that has been smouldering for sometime inside Bond ignites - something deeply possessive and steeped with arousal.

The music builds to a crescendo and the whole thing is over in less than three minutes. Q’s choreography finishing in time with it. He is panting a little, but otherwise unruffled.

There is a brilliant smile on his face as his hands finds the edges of his jacket to straighten it with a dramatic flourish before doing up the buttons again. When he’s done, he spreads his arms, palms up in welcome - and he tips his head to the crowd.

The Quartermaster officiates the party by calling to everyone, “Please, carry on!”

With that the music starts again and the party begins in earnest. People clapping, cheering and pouring onto the dance floor. The place is transformed in an instant.

The melee of moving bodies helps Q melt into the crowd and Bond looses sight of him for a moment. He sees 003 dart out from her position to slice into the crowd. Her red hair and outfit light making her more easy to see.

Shit. Bond scans the crowd for Q. When he finds the quartermaster, he launches himself into the crowd - completely forgetting to take leave of Eve who was still standing next to him.

How rude! Eve doesn’t really take offence. In fact, she’s surprised he’s lasted this long. She barks out a laugh and shakes her head. 007 likes to think he’s an international man of mystery - but he can be so obvious at times.

Conveniently for Bond, Q was making his way in his direction - or more likely towards Eve. They’d probably agreed to meet somewhere near the drinks table.

Bond intercepts smoothy, he passes Q on the man’s right and swings around behind him to end up on the left. This allows Bond to hook his right arm around Q’s waist briefly before resting his palm on the small of his back.

The move catches Q off guard who was about to say hello to Bond. For a moment, he felt a twinge of embarrassment when thought the agent was going to walk straight past him - only to be startled when 007 ends up nearly pressed to his side on the left.

“Have you been holding out on me quartermaster?” the loud music an excuse for Bond to lean in close, lips nearly touching Q’s ear.

He takes the opportunity to glance back to where he last saw 003. She was just ten feet shy of catching up to them. He sends her a wink and she stops in her tracks. She smiles back with a shake of her head conceding defeat.

“Ah, 007. I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence after all.” Q smiles up at him. He is still panting slightly from the exertion of the dance - his lips are dark pink and there is beautiful colour in his cheeks which just further highlights the smooth curve of his cheekbones.

The effect hits Bond like a punch to the gut. Fuck. He wants so badly to devour those lips. To bury his hands in that ridiculous hair. To make him pant prettily in his arms. ..

“…Bond? Are you alright?” Q’s concern snap him out of his thoughts.

“Ah yes. Sorry where are my manners. Let’s get you a drink.” Bond holds up his half empty glass in his left hand and gestures towards the drinks table.

“Is that Nish’s mix of Vodka, Redbull and Ribena?” Q surprises him by reaching for the glass, fingers curling around Bond’s to pull it close and takes a sip from it.

The gesture is scandalously intimate considering they are still in HQ among colleagues - if anyone was watching, it would seem as if Bond was feeding him the drink.

The thought of it results in a flaring heat of arousal that nearly causes him to trip - and he has to violently push it back into its cage. Bond is pretty sure he is starting to show in his trousers.

“Ugh! Every bit as vile as imagined,” Q passes verdict on the drink. The sip leaves a layer of shiny sweet liquid on his lips and Bond wonders how it would taste if he were to lick it off.

Stop it. Behave! Bond is blindsided by the intensity of his own reactions. At this rate he is not sure how he will survive the night.

“Come. I know what you’ll like..” Q veers off before they reach the drinks table. Bond’s imagination is going to overdrive and his mouth dry. He follows closely because that is all he can do at the moment. He would have followed Q right off a cliff if it meant he could remain within touching distance.

They peel away from the crowd of revellers and make their way to the back of the cavernous space. There is a recessed area in the back, off to the side that serves as Q’s unofficial office. It is dark, but there is just enough light from the party to illuminate the area dimly.

Q ducks into a corner and switches on one of the worklamps, angling the shade upwards so it throws light onto the ceiling instead. The effect is to softly illuminate the recess - almost romantic.

Then Q goes to the filing cabinet behind his desk and pulls out from the bottom drawer a bottle of 12 year old Macallan Whisky; three quarters full. He looks around the workspace for something.

“…I don’t have a clean glass.” Q explains.

Bond looks around, he sees the penholder on Q’s desk. It is an old mug with a broken handle. He removes the contents and then tips the remains of the Vodka-Redbull-Ribena into the receptacle.

Q hands him the bottle of scotch; then moves to sit on the edge of his desk facing the party. His long legs extend out in front of him.

Bond rinses out the glass with the tiniest amount of scotch he can bear to waste, then pours enough for both of them to share. He passes the glass back to Q before settling himself on the edge of the table as well - shoulder brushing Q’s.

“Ah, much better.” Q says after a sip.

“Never guessed you to be a scotch drinker. Then again, never pegged you for a dancer either…” Bond says as he reaches for the glass in Q’s right hand. Instead of taking it from him, Bond returns the gesture Q made earlier - his larger hand wrapping around the smaller one to pull the glass towards himself.

“Did I meet your expectations?” Q asks, eyes not leaving his as he watches Bond take a sip.

“Oh, I’d dare say you’ve exceed it—“ he replies after he swallows. Then right into Q’s ear, “—by a wide margin.”

Q shoots him a fond look that tells him how ridiculous he is being, but makes no move to put any distance between them. It is a brief look, but tenderness blooms in his chest and he has to look away before he does something stupid.

His eyes end up following the stretch of long slim legs clad in tight trousers; which was a poor move. He knows he is going to end up with the worst case of blue balls by the end of the night.

They stay that way for the next half hour. Watching the party, gossiping a little and sharing the drink. Not once did he remove the glass from Q’s hand, preferring to repeat what he did earlier each time he takes a sip - drinking right out of the quartermaster’s hand.

——The End——

Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!

#00q #00q fanfiction #00q fic #q #quartermaster

28 notes · View notes

peglees-blog · 5 years

Text

i. spark

july 21st , 2015

THE FIRST TIME SHE NOTICED HIM , peg wasn’t expecting the man to stay at the motel bar until late --- better yet , until she was finished working for the night . truth be told , she might have stolen one two many glances at him throughout the performance , but nobody had to know that . besides , she could have sworn he’d looked her way just as many times , so was she even guilty ??

it wasn’t uncommon for peg to catch sight of good - looking people at work ; however , sometimes , there was that one person that seemed interesting enough for her to do more than simply look at , && that was exactly what she decided to do . after the show , the blonde changed from her stage outfit && found her way into the bar , managing to grab the seat right next to the man . of course , the bartender knew exactly what peg liked to drink , so she didn’t even bother ordering . the alcohol wasn’t her main focus anyway . not tonight .

ii. fire

sept. 7th , 2015

HEELS CLICKED against the wooden floor of what was , without a doubt , the least practical house she’d ever been to --- but even so , peg had to admit the place had it’s charm , a certain coziness to it . as her gaze wandered around , she couldn’t help but chuckle at how much it suited aaron , though the small laughter was soon interrupted when she felt something lick her foot . quickly , her focus shifted towards the dog she’d heard so much about , which brought a smile to her lips && stole another laugh . ❝ so you’re the boy i’ve heard so much about , huh ?? ❞ carefully , she kneeled down to pet the canine , ❝ don’t tell hotshot , but you’re the only reason why i wanted to come here , ❞ peg joked , placing a small kiss on the top of bennu’s head before standing back up , turning her attention to aaron .

❝ don’t worry , you’re still kinda nice , ❞ with a smirk , the blonde stole a kiss from the man’s lips && reached for the his hand with both of her own , taking small steps backwards && further into the house . ❝ how about you give me a house tour && when that’s over , i show you what i brought ?? speaking of which , ❞ gaze shifts around , eyebrows raising in curiosity , ❝ you do have a record player , right ?? ❞ while he’d told her there was virtually no such thing as a music collection in his house , peg couldn’t seem fathom the idea of someone living without music .

worst case scenario she would use her phone instead , but still ; in her opinion , there was nothing better that the sound of a record player , && she wanted aaron to hear it for himself .

iii. ash

june 19th , 2016

BLUE EYES stared intently at the figure she had been oh - so - accustomed to for nearly a year now , though it was almost as if they were someone else instead . someone who seemed to be too focused on whatever was going on in their mind to acknowledge that she was there , just like she’d been yesterday && the day before that . there was something wrong with aaron , or at least that’s what the blonde assumed --- after all , why else would he seem so distant ?? he wasn’t a man of many words ( probably one of the things that drove her to him when they met ) , but this was different .

❝ ... hey , hotshot , ❞ she called out in a calm tone , one reserved for when comforting someone . anyone . rolling up the sleeves from the sweatshirt she wore ( his sweatshirt to be exact ) , the blonde stood up from her spot on the bed && took a couple of steps forward , ❝ wanna tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours ?? ❞ she asked when making her way to where aaron sat , arms wrapping around him && chin resting on the top of his head . the silence made her eyes close for a few seconds , just before she pressed a kiss to his hair . nothing . absolutely nothing .

iv. dust

august 2nd , 2016

IT MUST HAVE BEEN the second or third time she rubbed the makeup wipe around her lips . she wasn’t used to it , the way her hand kept trembling regardless of how much she tried to focus on tracing her damn lip line --- && the worst part was that she knew why . she knew why , && as usual , the blonde wanted to ignore what had happened an hour or so ago ; it happened so fast , maybe there was a part of her brain that still hadn’t processed it . it was over , all it took was a couple of words && bam , they weren’t together anymore . it was so sudden that right on top of her bag , in the opposite corner of her makeup station , was his jacket . she forgot to give it back before leaving , && he didn’t ask for it either .

❝ DON’T , ❞ peg scolded the moment she saw her bottom lip start to quiver in the mirror . ❝ you are not going to cry . ❞ there were people out there who had it much worse than her , what made her think it was okay to feel sorry for herself ?? yes , her heart was broken , but so what ?? she wasn’t one for crying , && she wasn’t about to start now , just minutes before work . not for this , no matter how much people might say there’s nothing wrong with a good cry every once in a while . there was no room for drama in her life , even if it was her own .

taking a deep breath , the singer stared at the lights around her mirror ; it was a technique her grandma taught her long ago , it was supposed to help hold back any forming tears , though peg never really felt the need to use it . maybe she didn’t even want to cry , && something just happened to have gotten in her eye ... that couldn’t be farther away from the truth , but it was what she wanted to believe .

standing up from her seat , she smoothed down the skirt of her long , s e q u i n dress && exited the little dressing room she had at the motel . sure , peg wasn’t feeling her best , but maybe performing was exactly what she needed right now .

@aaronfyres

#( the first one is trash but i just needed to post this bc i dont wanna be the only one crying n i want alma to cry too )#( ily alma )#aaronfyres #✧ * . a dream on a mean machine with hell in his eyes —› aaronfyres

5 notes · View notes