#batting away the setting sun au that is doing its best to steal my attention

[bubbiethesaur]

It’s another day, my dudes. Have a little lra Sun as a treat as the next chapter cooks.

[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || ari punishes you for being a brat during your date out at the summer carnival

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || pure filth, smut with some fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || modern AU agent!ari levinson × [black//woc]!reader + crossover!ransom drysdale

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 4K ⟶ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw daddy!kink, age gape: reader is twenty one and ari is thirty five (don’t like, don’t read), heavy language, dirty talk, punishment: overstimulation, eating out, blowjob + spanking mention, movie crossover! + you might get a cavity just from reading this

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || melting by kali uchis ♡ angel by kali uchis ♡ honey baby (SPOILED!) by kali uchis

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || this was initially for @jtargaryen18’s writing challenge #30DaysofChris but i took a long break in the middle of writing it, sorry for the long wait lovely! ♡ this took less time to edit and write than i thought and believed but i hope you guys enjoy it just as much! ♡ reminder : italic means flashback, bold italics means thoughts/exaggerated dialogue, and non-italic/bold means present!

 + p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

my storybook ღ join my taglist

BABY THIS IS A WONDERLAND

when your tongue licks the bittersweet honey glaze of my pussy lips, where my sinfully divine bubblegum dreams collapse with your good boy deeds but you just keep licking my core desperate. ‘cause baby the milk that leaks from the honey hive in between my thighs is like a strawberry cone to you- and your going to lick me up before I melt under your hot gaze.

"Ari," your meek whimper spills but he keeps licking.

as if he's trying to break the dam that'll give him the strawberry milk that will quench his undying thirst. you’re stuck in this pleasurable killing punishment, if only you knew to stop when you were told to. listen to the voice in your head to stop acting like rotten spoiled brat and you’d have the pleasure to grind your honey slicked cunt against his bearded face.

if only you listened...

"behave," Ari growled into your ear.

the single command is enough for you to roll your eyes and stick your tongue out up at him and so you do. of course Ari is used to seeing this brat but he was sure that with a glare or two you’d clean your act up but you’re still continuing your rotten attitude.

no, you don't want to fucking behave.

subtly walking away from him to the cotton candy vendor, the sound of the man pouring the sugar into the spiraling machine is music to your ears. a glare marks your sharp roseate lined eyes and a pout pulls at your glossed lips, all focused away from Ari but he still sees your rage.

it really wasn’t fair how he expected himself to go on this carnival date with you but not do the one thing that made you want to go. all that adding on that he expects you to behave and not be upset, it wasn’t for and you weren’t planning on calming down.

not even a little tiny bit, cause you want to go into the tunnel of love with him. all the small promises and little compromises made throughout the day as you and him walked and played the colorful tent games did he promise you that you and him would ride.

Ari knew how much this meant to you, you always wanted a special someone to sit besides the romantic boat ride with ever since you were a small girl.

it was his fault that he fell in love with a hopeless romantic, someone yearning to allow themselves be enveloped within the arms of their lover. feel their warmth as the red violet lights start to dim, kiss your lovers lips when you two meet the darkness. giggle when he confesses his sweet darling thoughts of you, you were a romantic for gods sake.

you wanted it so bad, yet every time you seem to mention it Ari deflects the topic with something else. another question or comment or confront your claim in the most abrupt yet sweet way possible.

“not now sweetheart, later maybe-”

“babydoll, do we really have to go in there?”

“it’s to much of a risk for daddy, honey bear!”

he would sweeten those claims up with kisses that would butter your mouth like the popcorn he hand fed you. it was tiring Ari out with your demands to ride The Tunnel of Love but now as he stand there witnessing his precious apple dumpling turn into a rather rotten and bratty apple he may fully turn down the conversation.

on top of that your pink and white gingham sundress displays a bit too much cleavage and leg for Ari’s liking. well he doesn’t like the dress, he loves it but he wouldn’t want you going out displaying it for everyone to see besides him. the nymphet styled cloth you walk so confidently may or may not have half the boys and men eyeing you everywhere you go.

this scene, the boys and grown men undressing you with their list filled hues and eye fucking you with every step your platforms take does make Ari want to snap at them. wonder if their mothers taught them better than to gawk, glare at the silly pubescent boys until they run away shitless. maybe intervene with the lustful stares of the men with a double fist threat.

it doesn’t ease the fire behind his eyes and the clenched fist he has when he’s noticing your smirk- the pounce in your stride that you seem to enjoy the attention.

the very way you bend down near the mirrors of a souvenir cart to re-apply the amber peach lipgloss to your lips is almost intentionally teasing for both Ari and anyone else watching. the way you glance at him through it, lashes batting and your glimmer hint hues screaming fuck me

he now knows this is all part of your game of acting up, you think you can get what you want from disrespecting his order and authority. it was so cute to him how you thought you could get away with your spoiled behavior.

sooner then later Ari is going to bend you over and teach you a lesson on teasing him in public.

the taste of strawberry cotton candy and buttery popcorn is still fresh and lingering in your mouth but you want to taste your juices on his candy red tongue.

"Ari," you carp, his tongue just keeps lapping up at your labia. unbothered and unfazed as hair spills over his forehead, he doesn’t care for he smiles when your plush thighs cage his face.

the continuous strokes of his talented tongue make your pussy flutter and spine shiver. wishing he’d push a fingers or two, god those thick fingers could undo any orgasm from you in matter of seconds. the thought makes a little drool seep from the corners to your mouth and you hug the large blue raspberry bunny Ari won for you closer to your chest. smelling the fruity scent as you whimpered when he bit at your cunt and kissed it better.

you’ve kept the fluffy berry scented stuffie close when Ari striked your ass cheeks earlier wit the same hands that keep your thighs gaped now. allowed you to have that dear comfort as he took on punishing you with his rough spanks.

the burning hand prints are probably visible now just as the wet tears around your eyes. the same streams that stained your peachy cheeks have dried but it wasn’t just your teasing that brought you up in your well deserved punishment.

no, you were in much deeper trouble than for that…

after your little tease show Ari figured to let you have your way, for now. it was always best for him to let you have your way since you were generally upset about not riding on the Tunnel of Love.

now, the golden rays of the sun setting radiated your glowing figure, hand with Ari’s the other holds your frosty pink cotton candy as you take the last bites of it. glancing up at Ari, you see the almost finished chocolate sprinkle swirled ice cream cone in his hand being treated with long slow licks.

attention going from the melting cone to his tongue you can’t help but want it.

want his hot tongue on you, in you.

you want it so so bad that you’re caught off guard when he smirks, not looking at you at all but feeling your stare. he feels your needy wants, knows the devious perverted thoughts going on in your pretty head and its all a dead giveaway when you hold his hand tighter before turning your head away from him.

your sudden shyness makes him let out a laugh. finishing the small cone within a few licks and bites. damn you are a contradiction of innocence and dirtiness that only helps his blood pound in devotion and cock harden in desire.

“what did we say about manners princess? it’s rude to stare at people while they’re eating,” Ari’s deep hushed words rattle your thoughts.

“I know daddy, I-” your words almost stumble when you feel the cool chocolate breaths wave upon your ear and his muscled arm wraps around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“is my princess getting needy? politely tell daddy what you want and maybe he’ll give it to you,” Ari whispers with a soft yet quick peck behind your ear, it’s almost enough for you to whine for more.

Ari knows you just can’t have that, it doesn’t even fill in a teaspoon of the battered lust that needs to be soothed. you really weren’t good at telling him what you wanted, sure physical and replaceable things weren’t an issue, clothes, purses, shoes, books. lets make it clear, if you see it, like it and want it- Ari bought it without hesitation.

however in situations like these, it wasn’t as if it was easy or hard to tell him what you want or what you want him to do to you. you just want him to just touch you, to feel his delicious large and warm hands- his gifted mouth on you already without being asked so many teasing questions.

“I want your tongue, daddy,” your words almost stumble out.

eyes to his now, they flutter innocently at him, biting your bottom lip you look down to notice the small tent at his pants and you smirk. given that rather rude action Ari’s hand that’s on your side goes down to grope the curve of your ass, giving it an equally gentle yet painful squeeze.

“you want daddy’s tongue princess? first tell daddy where you want it-” his sentence was interrupted by the loud vibration of his phone.

buzzing in his pocket you scoff at him when he takes it out to look at the pixel name displayed on the small screen. rolling your eyes when he doesn’t put it away you cross your arms, and let out a huff glaring up at him.

"daddy! mhmm!- daddy no more!" his eyes snap to yours, the sight of you makes him lick his lips.

shiny hair sprawled in all directions, face clouded with lust, the neckline to your pretty dress folded down to reveal your plump tits covered in his love bites. he’s trying his hardest not to give in to the throbbing temptation and smash his mouth against yours, take handfuls of your tits and fuck you till you can only say his name.

but he has much more control than that, he isn’t a needy baby like you. drooling at a few licks to your messy cunt and tits, god Ari knew he was lucky to have landed such a woman like you and you were his to bring as many orgasms as possible.

even if you didn’t want them, you were his little baby and his baby had rules to follow. breaking those rules resulted in punishments and as much as it hurt him to see you cry and whimper it was getting his cock hard to.

“now princess you wanted daddy’s tongue, and now you have it. that’s what you wanted so that’s what you’re going to get.” he muses as you licks your sensitive over-stimulated folds.

“but daddy you gave me four cummies already!-” you fumble into somewhat of a sob but the cry stops once Ari pinches the meat of your inner thighs making you whine at the sudden pain. “ouchy!” you snap, hating these painful thigh pinches but adoring the slow pussy licks.

“i’m teaching you a lesson princess, you’ve been such a fucking brat today so i’m going to treat you like a fucking brat.”

“but daddy!-”

“but what, princess? Daddy told you to stop but you never listen, you’re such a bad listener.” the tinge of disappointment is heartbreaking. tears swimming in your eyes knowing you have let your daddy down and you only wish at that moment -no matter how overstimulated your pussy- you’d go back in time an hour ago to prevent yourself from acting up.

“i’m sorry daddy-” the little broken sob that slips between your trembling lips makes Ari question himself if he’s punishing you too harshly but he thinks otherwise.

so he just tuts you as if he is scolding a child and your eyes swell up with more tears and you feel your bottom lip trembling in hurt.

“Daddy doesn’t want to hear an apology, daddy wants you to stay still so he’ll bring two more cummies out of you,”

hot tears fall as your throbbing pussy is fluttering with pain and pleasure, honey euphoria taking over you moan as your thighs shake and you release on his rubbing fingers. chest slightly heaving, you sniff as you feel your tears drying on your cheeks and watch Ari bring your creamy essence to his lips.

“princess look at the mess you made on daddy's hand. let daddy clean it up for you,”

after that rude phone call you were said to be meeting up with a friend of Ari's, well wouldn't want to say ‘friends’ more on the lines of acquaintances.

"I thought today was just us, he's your friend so why are dragging me into this." you mutter, yet when you feel his soft gaze on your eyes ease on your anger.

"be nice for daddy, okay princess?" he murmurs into your ear, snuggling into your neck. your chest lifts as you try to take in a deep breath and all the offensive rude snappy remarks on the tip of your tongue soften.

you hate the effect Ari has on you, your superior diva persona of sharp wit and pettiness strips away at his sweet and considering remarks. you’re his little spontaneous firecracker but when he cups your chin you turn into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. his feisty tiger cub that always calms down with his calming words and even soothing touch.

“fine,” you say and he smiles down at your stuff pout, it’s the best you’re going to give him and for that he pulls you closer to his side in gratitude.

walking side by side through the crowds, Ari adjusts the cap of the baseball hat down his forehead and you tuck in a piece of his hair behind his ear. making a rose heated blush appear on his cheeks which only brings out a wide smile and giggle from you.

“so, where is he? where are we meeting your ‘friend’?” your comment is sharp yet still soft enough to not avert the vex towards Ari.

“he said to meet us at the circus tent, before the clown stunts,”

“you thinking i’m going to meet him is a clown stunt-” you couldn’t help but let it slip out, you were still mad and you can’t help not to express it.

“princess what did we agree to-” Ari heavily sighs, a simple sign your running his patience but you roll your eyes.

“I know what we agreed to but I know nothing about your so called ‘friend’,”

how the hell did Ari expect you to be nice and peachy with a complete stranger when he warns you of them on a constant basis?

“we aren’t friends, we just have business to deal with,”

“yeah and what a professional scene to deal business then in a tent with lions, tigers and bears-” and suddenly a sharp slap hits your bottom and your to stunned to even register it.

oh my, oh my you’re in for a surprise and you sense it when the powder blue egg color of Aris mystic eyes shades darker. that again is a warning, for you to drop the attitude and suck up to this little silly social gathering but the pulling voices of your angry thoughts echoing fuck no are getting the best of you.

you always had your way, always and forever.

you two were surrounded by people and you even thought yourself no matter how pissed he was he wasn’t going to spank you. not pull you over his lap for children and parents to see but looking around you notice the sound of rides, people chattering, and laughing and playful screaming is to loud. everyone minding there own business to even notice his hand gliding up to wrap his fingers around your neck.

“don’t make me loose my patience. you are going to greet him politely, sit with him and-”

“god Ari do you want me to fuck him to?” you grumble and with that Ari grabs your jaw, directing your stare to his.

the grip on your wrist slightly tightened, his soft lips are to the shell of your ear and from afar it may seem like Ari is whispering something kind and dear from the way he’s smiling but you feel the snide in his harshly hushed words.

“is it that hard for you to be nice for my sake for ten decent minutes? I won’t fucking hesitate to pull you over my knee and spank you for the clowns and acrobats to see. I promise princess, if you even step a toe out of line you’re going to pray you haven’t. do you understand me?”

your glare is your only response until you mutter a small I understand daddy through your teeth barely loud for him to hear.

“speak up princess. I said, do you understand me?” Ari says, his words softer now and the grip on your jaw and wrist soften.

pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek he averts her face to meet him. “I promise you’re not going to regret meeting him. i’ve pulled a few strings to get him here but it’s all for you to enjoy,” he says and you quirk a brow at him, a smile finally pulling at your lips easing Ari.

“and who is that?” you say but Ari shakes his head with a small smirk, “I know you’ve been telling me how close you are to publishing your book and I thought why not I bring the finish line to you,” he says, you are still confused.

Ari was right, you are so close to making a publishing deal but you haven’t received any word in months. you yourself are getting anxious but the way you left the establishment shaking hands with the famous Harlan Thrombey himself. how he emphasized being invested in your work tore all those worries and fears away.

although, you were suppose to receive a call months ago, yet deadlines and interruptions of some sort keep on pushing your meeting with Harlan week after week. after that a contract was supposed to be sealed and editor negotiations completed and done for. not three months later you’ve received nothing and here you are wondering if Mr. Thrombey is having second thoughts on your work.

what is Ari planning for you with his friend?

⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄⟡⋄⟢⋅⟡⋅⟣⋄

sweat glistening your hairline, your soft whimpers fill the fairy light tent, only causing Ari to grip your inner thighs tighter. all this while his hot cherry tongue slides in and out your slick hole, you throw your head back. this pleasure feels like a fantasy and you’ve been reminiscing it to this point.

trying to move your glossy locks of hair away from your eyes, you hate the way he snapped at you earlier how you weren't allowed to touch him. not touch his soft toffee hair, his thickly bearded cheeks and muscled forearms- not even the comfort of his hand.

cause you’re in trouble and you aren’t allowed to touch him or yourself now or later until he says so. you’re the bad girl and the bad girl doesn’t get what she wants, no matter how much she pouts and cries.

"daddy!" and his eyes snap to yours, the pretty innocent blue now replaced by yearning.

knowing better to call his private title in public but the empty red, blue, and yellow striped carnival tent is the only event to do something like this. the soft music of the carousel in the background fuzzy, one of his hands creep up your bodice.

pulling down the tight neckline of your dress, he grips the soft mound tit in his hand and you erotically whimper as he roughly pinches the hard nipple. your pale pink and white gingham dress crowded your upper hips yet still lengthy enough that it covers Ari’s head. large warm palms caress your frosty cotton thigh highs as long slow licks smooth the folds of your fluttering pussy, aching to be satisfied by the pulse of his dick.

slow circular strokes of his thumb rub along the small slippery nub and your thighs twitch in blissful thrill over each of his shoulders. your feet in pink strap heels bounce and flinch every time Ari shoves his tongue in your hole. pouring out moans from you as you imagine his lips polished and shiny with your sweet pussy milk.

you want to see him, you want to see him eat you up you’re desperate to move the cloth over his head. see him licking and sucking the sinful treat he craves everyday. hating the sight of just his head bobbing up and down and side to side from the cover of your own dress you want to meet his eyes as he loudly moans while eating you out. slipping the small and loud growls and carnal noises release as he as his special treat.

daring to do so, you reach the hem of the dress and pull the fabric off his head, and there you see your handsome candyman. tawny brown hair tasseled and cheekbones red from the heat his eyes twinkle in mystic hunger, his lips soaked in your sensual essense. both his hands softly gripping your thighs, stroking your hips as his tongue still deep in your hole you let out a small whimper as he slips it out.

pupils wide and both the corners of his mouth leak with saliva and your cum and you feel your legs shaking a slight when he licks the corners. more so feel your pussy wetten when he glides his tongue over his top teeth glaring at you. awaiting the degrading scowl he has for you yet your surprised when you doesn’t pinch your thighs or claw at your hips even when he just smiles.

“peek-a-boo angel,” he purrs, eyes back to their cloud heaven blue and you feel your heart melting in your chest although it quickens when you brings his tongue right back to your pussy.

“so you must be {y/n l/n}, i’ve heard so much about you.” the young man sitting across from you chimes. You and Ari sit side by side on one of the many picnic tables around the humongous red and white circus tent.

“good things I hope, you must be Mr. Drysdale. how are you?” flashing your pearly white smile you rest your hand in the mans extended hand.

“what a doll, i’m doing great and how are you doing on this fine day?”

peachy fucking keen

he sounds like he’s trying his hardest to at least sound interactive and social. blue eyes move from your face to your cleavage and you want to snap at him to fucking pick.

“well today was excellent as a matter fact, a special day. all until you came along, you see Mr. Drysdale-”

“please, call me Ransom. Ari Levinson, long time no see! before we catch up why don’t you buy your lady a soda pop. i’d like to know the writers first before signing them off to my publish house,” the young man remarks, his eyes not to yours at all but to the way your dress tightly hugs your body.

Ari sees this, anger bubbling inside him he bits his tongue. meeting Ransom from his latest cases he was shocked to find out that he hadn’t been convicted for the third degree murder his buddy was investigating that had him wrapped up into it. even more shocked to find out that he had inherited his grandfathers publishing company.

this ‘meeting’ is to ensure you get your book published and live in your glory. so instead of barking at Ransom telling him to stop eye fucking you he instead offers you a kiss to the cheek and a soft stern whisper in your ear.

“behave while i’m gone,” and with that he walks away to the food vendors, knowing full well that it’s going to be you that’s going to drive Ransom crazy and not the other way around.

“I don’t understand, when I spoke to Ari-”

“well sweetheart today’s your lucky day, it’s not like everyday you meet the CEO of the company you dream your work be published in.” his voice smooth he stares down at you with hungry blue eyes.

cursing yourself for wearing such an unprofessional outfit but how were you going to find out that you were going to make a book deal on a date.

“I don’t understand, I was suppose to meet with Mr. Thrombey-”

“oh have you not received any word? Harlan, my grandfather, passed away three months ago,” he says but every word in his voice sounds fabricated, remorseless.

your surprised once you feel a hand on your bare thigh, gripping it firmly and you shift away from Ransom. his tongue slowly licks his bottom lip when his blue irises catch yours, you had to admit they were pretty like Ari’s but they held something else- something darker.

keeping a safe distance away from you and Ransom you don’t move your eyes away from him, not cowering under his gaze but holding a stronger glance to him. you knew guys like this, you grew up surrounded by them and you even dated guys like him but not in a single situation did you let them take advantage of you.

so, besides sitting at the table trying to avoid a conversation you get this “meeting” over with. Verbally deflecting the flirtatious remarks of Mr. Drysdale. dodging the charming maneuvers of him asking you for more face to face meetings and you can sense the anger radiating off him. it only makes you wonder how long it takes just for Ari to get you a damn soda pop.

“i’m not sure if you’re qualified enough for a place at my establishment. you don’t seem to meet my criteria options and your work isn’t up to our standards,” he says looking down at his phone, typing a message to someone as if you weren’t worth his time.

“I don’t seem to meet your criteria options? you mean offering to take me out when you damn well know i’m already in a relationship? what is this? I thought we were talking about my book,” that sharp remark leaves him dropping his eyes back to his phone after he receives a message.

“my question is why are you with a man like Levinson? a sweet little lady like you with a busy man like him can’t treat you well, can’t pamper you well, can’t fuck you well-”

“we’re done here,” you feel your face getting hot with rage, you were wasting your precious vacation days on this. “and what about your book Ms. {y/l/n}?”

you’re up and away front the table yet you turn your head to meet his eyes again. no way in hell were you going to publish your book for a company runned by Mr. Drysdale.

“it seems as though your establishment isn’t up to my standards Mr. Drysdale,”

"d-daddy, am I sweet?" fluttering your lashes to him, a deep groan shakes against your throbbing cunt and you feel your organism washing over.

the continuous licking from the tip of his tongue tracing your hole and his thick fingers rubbing your puffy folds are removed just for his mouth to suck the sweet essence pooling your rose bud.

his sweet and innocent angel, so naughty and dirty at these times. such a sweet fucking treat, a sickeningly saccharine poison to easily overdose. sporting soft cotton candy thighs he doesn’t mind at all being in between them, licking the sweet sugary sweetness.

y/n l/n is a wish candy girl that’ll rot Ari’s teeth to his graveyard kind of girl and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

"like candy dolly. you're sweet like fucking sugar." you moan at the comment and he won't stop licking. sugar cotton floss, sticky candy apples, rainbow swirled lollies, and buttery caramel popcorn- you’re the whole damn candy bar and his head is so deep in Candyland he can’t think straight.

all he wants is to see is your pie crumble before him as you give him the custard filling. it’s what he’s been craving and the various messages that Ransom sent him whilst in the food line asking him if he could “take you off his hands” only increases the grind of his mouth and tongue on your bountiful mound.

"daddy's on a sugar rush," you giggle completely unaware of the situation Ari has dealt with but otherwise he smiles into your pussy.

god you always had the cutest shit to say when he’s eating your pussy and he fucking loves it, eats it up.

"bad princess, you're going to rot daddy's teeth," trying his hardest to not think about Ransom at a time like this, in his position with his mouth on you.

"mmh!- that’s so sad daddy. I always liked your smile," you moan and sigh, testing his patience once more you begin to lace your fingers through his long hair.

Ari shakes his head disapproving though he seems to occupied licking your saturation from your mound to bother telling you to keep your hands to yourself. keeping your fingers in his hair, his eyes meet yours in anger and with the glimmer of menace he knows so well in your eyes he should prepare for your reckoning.

with that a pretty petty smirk curls your lips as you yank his chocolate locks downward, shoving your dripping cunt as it grinds against his mouth. Ari doesn’t back away but invites it, pulling away slightly to glide his skilled fingers over the soaked folds avoiding your desperate hole.

a whimper slips out when Ari doesn’t give you the pleasure that’s lingering and dripping from your crux but only avoides you; but then again how long can Ari avoid your need for another release. burly arms wrap around your body’s waist as you pulls you onto his lap, letting you saunter your arms around his neck you stuff your face in his chest letting out a whinish sob.

“i’m sorry for misbehaving today Ari,” a bang of regret hits Ari’s chest.

this was all his fault for demanding you meet Ransom to see some opportunities for you when he himself knew it wasn’t the best idea.

“don’t be sorry angel, I went too far and you were right. I shouldn’t have forced you to meet him. shouldn’t have thought of this in the first place,” that little whisper followed with a kiss in between your brows.

he still can’t get the sleazy voice of Ransom offering to take you “off his hands” so you’d get a position at his company. feeling his sugar high blood boiling just remembering Ransom talking about you as if you were nothing but a pawn item for bargaining, right in front of you as if you had no say whatsoever.

“you know how I hate cutting corners, I wanna be successful because I worked hard. not because my boyfriend wanted me to take it easy and let a rich boy take care of it for me,” you whisper, head snuggling in Ari’s neck which he hums.

god, you may be stubborn but you were so loyal to your aspirations and independence. strong when he met you and stronger now, he always has admired that.

“remind me next time whenever I want to introduce you to someone who runs this relationship,” and you giggle at those words.

quickly straddling his lap arms wrapped around his neck you pull him closer till your nose rubs against his and your lips briefly touch his.

“I run this shit,” you cheekily whisper subtly licking his bottom lip and Ari takes your ass in his hands, lifting you up your legs wrap around his waist. “yes, you fucking do.” Ari growls and pulls your lips to his.

he’s all yours, your caring daddy, your carnival carnivore.

truly yours.

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

[perfeggso]

Noir (yutae)

Week III pt. 1

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3  |  Chapter 4  |  Chapter 5  |  Chapter 6  |  Chapter 7  |  Chapter 8  |  Masterlist 

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies)

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 9.7k 

Every day at work since the night in the car with Yuta was torturous for Taeyong.  He found himself wishing he had just been left alone at the electronics shop in Akihabara but no – Yuta had to pluck him up and complicate an already complicated situation.  Maybe that was what Taeyong deserved for getting his hopes up and prying.  Yuta had been glum for the first couple of days and Taeyong thought he caught him trying to approach the topic a few times, but Yuta would either drop it before he even opened his mouth or else Taeyong would remove himself from Yuta’s presence.  Eventually, Yuta seemed to decide that the best way to handle what had transpired was to not handle it.  He went back to acting cordial and more or less professional, and Taeyong figured he should too even if he couldn’t always shake the memory of the humiliated tears which escaped his eyes that night.  

It had been four days when Taeyong found himself in a communal space at headquarters, sulking over a sour plum onigiri he’d bought for lunch at Lawson.  Doyoung, Jaehyun, Johnny, and Taeil were there with him, having a smoke break and waiting for orders from the Oyabun or from Yuta.  Well, all but Jaehyun, who was only there to distract himself from his studies.  Taeyong knew from the way he and Yuta had been acting that everyone probably suspected something – but no one asked.  

Johnny was talking to the others about some girl he was seeing while, in the corner, Doyoung was, as the only non-smoker, listening and practicing throwing a small knife into a corkboard.  Taeyong wasn’t really paying attention and was sitting in the opposite corner next to the open window so he could taste his food.  

“Taeyong!” yelled Johnny, clearly trying to knock Taeyong out of his stupor with some good cheer.  “You should come around to my place this evening.  I’m closed tonight so we can all get drunk and have a grand old time.  These guys will all be there, right?” The indicated guys nodded their heads.  “Unfortunately,” quipped Doyoung.  

“Right,” Johnny continued, “what do you say?”

Taeyong chewed his food slowly.  He didn’t have to think about what he’d do, he just felt like taking his time.  “I don’t think I can,” he explained, “I’m going somewhere with Yuta tonight.  For his project.”  

Johnny cocked his head, expression betraying concern.  “Well maybe you two can swing by after.  Just let me know if you decide to.”

“Alright.”

Taeyong felt like his general demeanor had brought down the rapport in the room that had existed during whatever bawdy story Johnny was in the midst of telling before.  The only sound for several beats was the THWACK of Doyoung’s knife lodging into its target.  Finally, Jaehyun spoke.  

“What are you two doing?” he asked Taeyong.  

“We’re going into Shinjuku to meet up with someone named Donghyuck who has contacts that might be helpful.  Do you know him?”                    

Taeil spluttered.  “Oh, you haven’t met Donghyuck yet?” he asked.  

Taeyong paused his chewing, wondering if there was something he should be aware of that might be concerning to him.  

“No,” he said, “is that a problem?”

Taeil laughed again, the dregs of his earlier outburst.  “Just be on your toes.  He’s a street kid, kind of like you were, but infinitely more obnoxious and he likes to test the new recruits.  You’ve got to establish dominance before he gets too much under your skin.  I know you don’t want to look like a little bitch in front of Yuta, yeah?”

“Oi!” Jaehyun warned Taeil with a quick glare.  “Maybe cool it with that.”

THWACK! Everyone turned their attention to Doyoung.  “That kid is Satan spawn,” he said coolly, going to retrieve his knife from where it was lodged.  

“Oh, you know you love him though,” Johnny jested, then turning his attention back to Taeyong.  “But don’t worry about it; he’s not even old enough to have a driver’s licence  – you can handle him.”

Taeyong just nodded.  

“I never said I didn’t love him, Johnny,” said Doyoung with a sly smile.  “I am a Satanist after all.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Taeil interjected.  “You just want to sound clever.”

***

That evening, Taeyong met Yuta at their pre-arranged spot below an elevated highway.  Yuta greeted Taeyong curtly – although Taeyong read some of the discomfort on the other man’s face more as guilt than contempt – and introduced Taeyong to the young man by his side.  

“Taeyong,” he said, “this is our associate, Donghyuck.  Donghyuck, Taeyong.”  

Donghyuck was slightly shorter than Yuta, with shaggy black hair and a round, jovial face.  He had a couple of Inagawa-kai themed tattoos on his neck and wrists and carried a baseball bat with him.  Must be a confident kid to get away with that, Taeyong figured.  

“I’ve been told to watch out for you,” said Taeyong by way of a greeting.

Donghyuck smirked.  “I have no idea why that would be,” he sing-songed.  “If those guys at headquarters can’t handle a shatei then I think that says more about them than it does about me.  Now,” he continued, grinding a foot into the gravel below him and clinking his bat against the ground, “shall we be on our way?”

They started under the overpass towards an area populated by office buildings and construction projects.  Since they were on the edges of Shinjuku, in a sort of no-man’s land between neighborhoods, there weren’t many people around and Taeyong wondered to himself what kind of weird stuff went on in the shadowy corners under the highway once the sun started to set like it was.  Mostly though, he just tried to avoid getting pooped on by the pigeons loitering above.  

“Where are we going?” Taeyong asked.  

“Donghyuck is our go-between for gaining information on the operations of other yakuza groups.  He knows the small-time gangs that do business with them informally, since that’s the world he was part of when we plucked him up,” Yuta explained.  “We’re going to go meet with one such gang in their hideout.”  

Taeyong nodded as they approached a wall of gray buildings.  “What does this have to do with Sana-san?” he asked.  

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” said Yuta, looking the closest to normal spirits that Taeyong had seen him in days – probably because he anticipated a big break in the investigation.  Taeyong thought Yuta might know more than he was letting on, but he was mostly just happy to feel some of the tension between them letting up.  Even if their interaction in Yuta’s car scarred Taeyong every time he laid eyes on the other man, he knew it was in his best interest to be personally liked by his greatest advocate.  

The three continued walking on the desolate sidewalk and, out of curiosity, Taeyong turned to Donghyuck, who had inched uncomfortably close to his side.  Taeyong chose to ignore that.

“You ever join the Bosozoku?” Taeyong asked, eyeing the baseball bat: a favorite of the biker gangs.

Donghyuck raised his eyes at Taeyong like he was an idiot.  “No!” he said.  “Besides, you think they’d take me?  Fucking fascists.”  

“I was just wondering about the bat,” explained Taeyong with an almost faraway laugh.  “One time I got beat up with one just like it.”  

“Oh yeah?” Donghyuck asked swinging the weapon around viscerally with an intense expression which reminded Taeyong of himself a few years earlier.  “Then you understand how I feel about Bosozoku.  I stole this baby from the leader of the Black Emperors!”

Donghyuck skipped out ahead of Taeyong and Yuta a few steps and turned around to walk backwards, holding the bat over his shoulders with one hand.  He reached into his pocket, rummaging around for something.  

“Speaking of stealing,” he said, pulling Taeyong’s wallet from his pocket, “you need to be more aware of your shit, kumi-san .”

Before Taeyong could make any words materialize to express his shock and irritation, Yuta spoke for him.  

“Hyuck,” he said, “that is wholly inappropriate.  I’m going to have to request that you give my partner his wallet back right now.”

Donghyuck threw the wallet at Taeyong with just enough warning for him to catch it, then turned the right way around.  Yuta sped up to catch his subordinate and place him in a playful walking headlock.

“That was very disrespectful to your elder,” he chided.  

Donghyuck faked a choking sound and spat on the sidewalk to his left, causing Yuta to let up off of him.  

“I’ve worked for you for longer,” he complained.  

“Damn, now I know why everyone warned me about you,” said Taeyong, replacing his wallet and patting himself to confirm the presence of his other possessions, having finally regained his voice.  “Brat.”

“Oi!” Donghyuck spun around, wielding his bat and only calming down when Yuta placed a hand on his shoulder and plucked the weapon from his hands.  Taeyong laughed and Donghyuck looked at his boss in disbelief.

“Your men are totally out of control, apparently!” he whined, and Yuta tutted, spinning Donghyuck around and recommencing in the direction of a large under-construction high rise.  He pulled Donghyuck into his side.  

“Now listen,” he began, “you certainly don’t get to tell me when to discipline my men.  Alright, shatei ?”    

Yuta let Donghyuck go as he nodded begrudgingly.  “Yes, Shategashira .”

“Good,” said Yuta.  “I’ll kick your ass if you try anything else.”

Taeyong barely registered the end of the interaction playing out in front of him because he was too busy trying to process the flow of blood he felt at the insinuation that he should be ‘disciplined.’  

They stopped before the chipped doorway of the high rise.  The structure seemed almost complete, but it was difficult to tell under the scaffolding.  

“Here??” asked Taeyong, growing more confused by the minute.  When he was a teenager he had sometimes messed around with his friends in rundown buildings and other sketchy locales, but never in an active construction site.  

Yuta nodded mildly and turned his attention to Donghyuck, handing him back his bat under the condition that he be good and control himself.  Donghyuck took the bat back with a pointed glare and went inside.  Yuta looked at Taeyong.  

“After you,” he directed.  

Taeyong followed Donghyuck up several dilapidated sets of stairs.  The interior of the building was about what would be expected; lots of brick, concrete, raw drywall, and exposed wiring.  Some of the walls were damp from unfinished plumbing and the farther they made their way up the stairs, the more convinced Taeyong became that this project had been abandoned for some reason.  

Finally, they came to a steel door which Donghyuck pushed them through, and then to an equally dank hallway that smelled of duckweed.  There was barely any light on account of it being dusk, and this fact made Taeyong’s skin prickle.    

“Last door on the right, Shategashira ,” Donghyuck instructed as Yuta moved past him down the hall.  Taeyong followed all the way until Yuta had entered the indicated room, at which point he felt something hard and rounded brushing against the back of his head.  He paused where he was just on the outside of the naked doorframe and put his hands up.  Looking to his side, he realized that Donghyuck was looking at him, smirking but angry seeming at the same time, and holding his bat up to Taeyong’s head as if teeing him up.  

“ Kumi-in ,” began Donghyuck, “this is strike two.  I thought you seemed soft.  And Yuta’s soft enough already.  If you want to survive together you need to be more aware, got it?”  

Taeyong nodded, trying not to seem too intimidated by someone four years his junior.  He heard Yuta yelling for them from inside the room.  

“Point taken,” he said.  “May I be on my way?”

Donghyuck nodded, bumping his bat lightly against Taeyong’s head for good measure before pulling it away.  

“Don’t let there be a strike three,” Taeyong heard Donghyuck say behind him as he entered the room.

Inside was an industrial attic of sorts with lots of metal beams, trash scattered over the floors, and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling on a wire, illuminating three late teens to early twenties looking boys along with Yuta at a plastic table.  

“What kept you?” asked Yuta.  

“Haechan!” yelled the tallest of the boys, and Donghyuck approached the table with a sunshiny plump-cheeked grin.  What a contrast .  

“Sorry,” said Taeyong, eyes on the grimy floor.  “Also, Haechan?”

“Nickname,” Yuta explained.  “I think he uses it as a code name with his friends.”

“I see.”

“Who’s this guy?” asked one of the boys, almost yelling.

Yuta motioned towards Taeyong.  “Jisung, Jeno, Jaemin, this is my new associate, Taeyong.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Taeyong and the three boys, each of them tall and rail thin, bowed unenthusiastically and returned the greeting.  

“Yuta-san,” began the one in the middle.  He had a squarer face than the others and if the order of their introduction was anything to go by, he would have to be Jeno.  Taeyong wondered for a moment why they didn’t have to address Yuta by his title, but he figured it was because they didn’t technically work for the Inagawa-kai.  

“You need more information on this girl, right?  Sana-chan?”  Jeno held up a small black and white photo of the girl Taeyong and Yuta had stalked the other night, walking with an older man in a suit.

“That’s her,” Yuta confirmed.  

The boy on the far end of the table, Jaemin, leaned forward into the light.  “Listen, boss, I don’t think you’ll like what we have to tell you.”

Taeyong snuck a glance at Yuta’s face, feeling the nerves start to creep up on him, but Yuta’s expression remained completely placated; he showed no indication of worry and this calmed Taeyong down a bit.  Only a bit, though.  

“Please, just tell me whatever it is,” said Yuta openly.  “I’m sure I’ve dealt with worse.”  

“Okay,” Jisung began, “essentially, Yamaguchi is holding Ms. Minatozaki hostage.  They’ve got her working Miyazaki for cash as like, a sugar baby, but little does he know all the money he’s wiring his girl through shady Thai banks is really going right into the pockets of a yakuza clan.”

“We don’t know how she got mixed up with them,” explained Jeno, “but she is, and we’re pretty sure she’s doing it because they’ll hurt her if she doesn’t.”

Yamaguchi, Taeyong realized, would have to mean the Yamaguchi-gumi, only the largest criminal family in the country.  How did his situation just keep growing more and more outlandish?  Taeyong watched Yuta’s reaction and finally thought he caught a hardness seeping into his face.  

“Fuck, Yamaguchi,” Yuta practically snarled.  “Okay, this isn’t ideal but if we play it right and don’t allow them to catch wind of us, we could use this situation to our advantage.  Did you get this straight from them?

“Yeah,” Jaemin assured, “we heard it from our contacts in the Yamaguchi-gumi!  But listen, that’s why you need to make sure we have protection, because we’re really sticking our necks out for you and they might have more men but the Inagawa-kai owns Tokyo, so we expect you can manage to look out for us.”

“Oi, Jae, maybe you shouldn’t talk to a Shategashira like that,” warned Jisung.      

Jaemin whipped around to look at his friend.  “Listen, do we need to take this out to the roof or something?  Because I’m just trying to ensure our safety and since you’re not down with that, I might as well give your ass a preemptive beating.”

“Come on, guys, let’s not cause a disruption,” said Jeno, laughing awkwardly and placing a hand on each of his friends’ shoulders.  Then, he turned his attention to Yuta.  “We humbly implore you, sir.”  Still, Jaemin and Jisung continued arguing over him, that is, until Donghyuck slammed his bat on the ground with a resounding CLACK!

“Shut the fuck up, you guys!”  The three young men all froze, silence reclaiming the space around them.  Yuta’s face remained calm although Taeyong heard him let out an impatient sigh, and Taeyong himself had to suppress laughter.  He used to be just like these boys.  

Donghyuck continued.  “I’d appreciate if you didn’t embarrass me in front of my boss, thank you.”  He turned to Yuta.  “Please excuse them, Shategashira .”  

Yuta smirked.  “Perfectly alright,” he said.  “Jaemin-kun, I’m sympathetic to your concerns and I assure you that you will have ample protection from the Inagawa-kai be it from your friend, Donghyuck, Taeyong, or any of my men.  You are also welcome to use our headquarters and safehouses if need be.”

Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin, let out a collective breath.  “Thank you very much, sir.”

“Of course,” said Yuta.  “We appreciate what you have done to help our mission, and I recognize that you did not have to.  That being said, I hope you will understand that protection comes with a certain level of surveillance.  With your proximity to our rivals, we have to be sure you can continue to be trusted.”

The three boys nodded nervously, exchanging reassuring looks with Donghyuck.  “We understand, sir,” confirmed Jeno.  

“Good,” said Yuta.  “Well, then.  Back to the matter at hand.”  

“Do you –” Taeyong began, cutting himself off when he noticed everyone staring at him.  They had probably forgotten he existed.  “Sorry, um, do you think this thing with Ms. Minatozaki and the Yamaguchi-gumi has anything to do with us?  With our plan?”

Yuta smiled, his first genuine smile that Taeyong had seen since their misunderstanding last week, and it caused a rush of pride to fill Taeyong.  

“That’s an excellent question, Taeyong,” said Yuta.  “Do you boys have any incite?”

Taeyong caught Jisung and Donghyuck sharing a brief, quizzical look.  

“Well, we can’t be sure unless we talk to someone higher up,” began Jisung, “but that’s certainly a likelihood.  I mean, they have their ways of finding things out just like you do, and I know they wouldn’t want you getting this deal.”

“My guess,” said Jaemin, “is that they’re going to blackmail their way into the meeting in a month and try to outmaneuver your Mitsubishi arrangement.  It would be a ballsy move since, like I said, you guys are much more powerful within the city, but Yamaguchi are nothing if not ballsy, wouldn’t you say?”  

“I’d imagine you’re correct,” said Yuta.  “That’s all for now, then.  Thank you again, you three.  Donghyuck?”

“Yes, Shategashira .”

“You stay with them.  Taeyong and I will be heading out.”

Donghyuck saluted and his three friends bowed, thanking Yuta for his consideration.

***  

“Starting to think like an investigator, I see,” remarked Yuta once he and Taeyong were back down on the street.  Taeyong started.  

“Oh, really?  I – I just thought it was an obvious question.  Sorry I interrupted.”

Yuta began to walk back in the direction they came and Taeyong followed.  “You didn’t interrupt,” he said with a sideways smile.  “No one was talking.  Besides, that was about to be my next question.  I’m just glad you’re starting to feel comfortable being involved.”

“Oh,” said Taeyong, not knowing what to say to that.  He felt tingly even though he now knew he wasn’t supposed to.  “Shategashira?”

“Mm?”

“Are you scared?”

Yuta laughed suddenly, making Taeyong jump and proving, at least, that his nerves were on edge.  “Scared?  There’s no use in being scared, Taeyong.  Although I wouldn’t fault anyone if they were.”  Yuta began walking once more.  They were just clearing the overpass highway.  “Are you?”

Taeyong thought for a moment.  He’d been in plenty of fights and dangerous situations, so he was used to threat.  If he was being honest, he wasn’t so much scared as he was consumed by a sense of dread.

“Not exactly,” Taeyong stated.  

Yuta repeated, “Not exactly.”  The lights of central Shibuya were slowly becoming visible – like an illuminated cargo ship on the sea at midnight.  Taeyong weighed the appropriateness of bringing up what had happened between them four days earlier, getting the sense that Yuta was still trying to ignore it and move on.  Taeyong felt like he needed closure, but Yuta began to speak before he could.  

“I’m sorry this happened to you Taeyong,” said Yuta.  Taeyong huffed.  He was getting a bit sick of the pity speech.  “No, listen for a minute.  I know this situation seems really crazy, but I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen; been around it my whole life.  I’ll handle anything that comes at me and anything that comes at you, alright? And I don’t underestimate you.  You’re smart, a quick learner, and you’ve got spark.  I know that because I’ve worked with people like you for a while now.”

“What people like me?” asked Taeyong.  “ Zainichi ?”      

“No, not just that,” Yuta clarified.  “People who’ve had to scrap just to exist.  That’s the exact type you want in this line of work.  That’s why I have confidence in you.  I know you can scrap.”

Yuta’s words soothed Taeyong, although he wanted to punch him at the same time.  He knew this wasn’t exactly flirty – more like, professional encouragement? – but Taeyong felt like he was being led on by all the compliments.  

“I see,” he said mildly.  “I will try to live up to that.”  

Yuta chuckled, exhausted by formal talk.  “Are you tired, Taeyong?”

“Not really, actually.”

Yuta smiled.  “Good, because I told Johnny we’d be joining.”  

***

There had been almost no one in the area until Taeyong and Yuta got closer to central Shibuya.  Almost.  Taeyong had noticed someone shortly after agreeing to accompany Yuta to Johnny’s place; a man dressed in dark clothes and walking a good ways behind Taeyong and Yuta.  He wasn’t doing anything in particular to call attention to himself, so Taeyong didn’t pay him any mind.  

He didn’t pay any mind either when he noticed the man entering Shibuya station after them.  The station handled millions of commuters every day, after all.  It was only when he and Yuta had boarded the Shibuya line and he spotted the same man in the next car over that Taeyong instinctively brushed his hand over the interior pocket of his leather jacket, where his gun was hidden.  Still, he assumed he was just being overly cautious.  Yuta didn’t like using his car if he didn’t have to because the plates could be tracked, but Taeyong found himself wishing for the false protection of being alone in a personal vehicle.  

“Akihabara-eki.  Please be cautious of the closing doors.”

The electronic woman’s voice rang through the train as Taeyong and Yuta descended onto the platform.  Taeyong glanced to his right, making a mental note that the same man was also getting off, and practically pulled Yuta towards the exit under the guise of trying not to get separated in the rush of passengers.  He heard Donghyuck’s voice in his head: “ don’t let there be a strike three .”  

Taeyong walked out ahead as he and Yuta started down Ameyokochō, passing food stalls and vendors of knock-off Nike sneakers.  

“You know how to get there, right Taeyong?”

“YeahIdo,” Taeyong huffed, and Yuta grabbed at his hand to pull him around, stopping them both in the middle of the busy pedestrian street.

“Taeyong,” said Yuta, “are you just that eager to have some fun, or is something the matter?”

Taeyong’s body was jittery with the impulse to move, and it only got infinitely worse when he caught a glimpse of the same dark-clothed man over Yuta’s shoulder.  

Taeyong yanked Yuta forward.

“Taeyong, what the fuck?” Yuta looked angry, eyes dark and brow knitted.  If he hadn’t been so scared, Taeyong might have found the expression attractive.  

“Shategashira, I’m very sure we’re being followed,” he explained, practically dragging both himself and Yuta through the crowd of evening revelers.

Yuta stole a glance behind them and confirmed Taeyong’s fear.  

“Shit,” he said, “I think that’s Yamaguchi.  Let’s go.”

Yuta took the lead this time, navigating their surroundings more efficiently than Taeyong had.  Yuta had Taeyong bend his knees as they walked, trying to disrupt their pursuer’s vantage point, and Taeyong silently cursed Yuta for feeling the need to dye his hair.  Finally, they came upon an alleyway they could use as a shortcut to Johnny’s bar, thinking they had managed to lose the man.  

“Here,” said Yuta, pointing to a dumpster about halfway down the alley.  “We need to hide behind this for a second, so he doesn’t see us when he passes.”

Taeyong, as designated lookout for Yuta during this whole operation, took it upon himself to peak out from their hiding spot in case something went wrong.  He watched as throngs of passers by ignored the alley, but none of them were the tall, dark-clad Yamaguchi agent.  Taeyong hadn’t been this nervous since high school, when every day he would return home for the day not knowing if there would be nationalist gang members waiting at his house to drag him away.  Still, back then if he could get enough distance between him and his attackers, he was probably safe.  Now, he knew for a fact, everyone who wanted to hurt him was carrying a gun.  Every cell of his body felt like it was trying to evaporate; the only things grounding him being the metal heft of the revolver in his hand and the outline of Yuta in his peripheral vision, sitting on the ground and pulling Taeyong down to earth like a heavy stone.

“Why didn’t we just stay in the crowd?  He couldn’t shoot that way,” asked Taeyong, voice uneven.  

“Because,” Yuta explained, “this is more direct and if he keeps on our trail, he keeps on our trail.  Better to get in a shootout with him here than guide him to all our colleagues and put them in danger too.  He might have associates ready to pounce when they know the location of Johnny’s place.  Just trust me on this.”

Taeyong sucked in a breath as he watched the man from Yamaguchi turn the corner down the alley.  He’d been able to see them the whole time.  

“Damnit!”

“We need to run,” said Yuta urgently.  “We can’t stay here and let him get closer and corner us.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Taeyong repeated, shaking and feeling fully gone as Yuta got to his feet next to him and the man stomped towards them.  

Yuta took his gun out and Taeyong heard the click of the safety coming off.  Yuta put a hand on Taeyong’s arm and looked him in the eyes, steady.  

“Remember, Taeyong,” he said, “no use in being scared.”  Yuta smiled his patented Cheshire Cat smile and with that was up and running before Taeyong could even think.  Taeyong followed instinctively, turning around after a moment to check the progress of their assailant.  His eyes went wide as the man slowed to pull something from his pocket – a gun, undoubtedly.  Taeyong stopped and steadied himself and his weapon just in time to catch the black shine of the handle showing from behind the man’s jacket.  No strike three, no strike three, no strike three!  

“ Shategashira , look out!”

BLAM!

Taeyong stumbled half a step back, panting and letting the weight of the gun pull his hands down to his thighs.  

“Holy shit…” he said, absently.  The Yamaguchi member was a few yards from him and Yuta; where he’d been when Taeyong fired, struggling simultaneously to pull his collapsed right knee from the concrete and to pick up the gun he had lost his grip on when Taeyong shot him.  Blood was seeping, dark and thick, from an open gash over his kneecap.  

Taeyong watched as Yuta passed by his right shoulder, striding with brutal grace to the now pathetic man who had given Taeyong the fright of his life just a minute ago.  He kicked the gun away before the man could get to it and then crouched on the ground next to him, holding a pistol to his head at point-blank range.  Yuta looked pissed, but in a way that Taeyong had never seen before, like he could have skinned the guy alive and enjoyed it.  

“Oi!  What’s your name?  What’s your position in the Yamaguchi-gumi?  Are there others with you?” demanded Yuta.  

“I’m not telling you anything, you, you fucker,” the man barely managed to get out with his ragged voice.  “God damnit.”  

Yuta stood back up and put his foot on the man’s thigh, just above his injured knee, pushing down.  The man howled and Taeyong’s stomach churned at the horrifying scene.  

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” asked Yuta, laughing mirthlessly.  “I know what you guys are up to.  Seems foolish to try starting a gang war after such successful coexistence, but your leader’s always been a bit dim, hasn’t he?” Yuta nudged the man’s head with his gun as Taeyong started smelling iron.  

“Shategashira, should we leave I –” Taeyong began, but Yuta cut him off, singularly focused.  

“We have another three minutes or so until the police show up.  Alright,” he continued, turning his attention back to his victim.  “Never mind your name and rank.  Tell me though, are you guys really going to go through with this?  What are you doing with Minatozaki Sana?”

The man spat.  “All I’ll say is that you Inagawa bastards will get what’s coming to you!” he panted.  “We’ve let you have Tokyo for too long.  You know how easily we’d take you down if we just tried?  You think you’re intimidating?  Fuck you.”    

Yuta tutted, “that’s really too bad; you’ve wasted your chances.  If your men are so confident why don’t they just attack already instead of sending in useless assassins like yourself?”

Yuta shot the man right through the head and Taeyong nearly shrieked, turning his head away immediately when he thought he saw something a little too pink to be blood hitting the brick wall on his left.  He wanted to scream – wanted to ask Yuta how the hell he could bring himself to do that – but he found that he couldn’t speak.  He realized all of a sudden that they were in public, noticing in terror that there were pedestrians trying to get a view of the alley.  

“Hurry,” Yuta instructed, and Taeyong followed in horrified and awed silence until they reached the back door of Johnny’s pachinko bar.  

Yuta stopped before going inside and clapped his palms over Taeyong’s shoulders.  “Sorry you had to see that,” he said, lips curling just slightly.  To Taeyong’s surprise, he didn’t feel any need to push Yuta away, despite knowing now the kind of shit he could do.  “But remember all that to remind yourself that this is no joke.”  

Taeyong nodded, eyes glued on Yuta’s, still in a bit of a stupor.  “You need to stop apologizing,” he said, allowing himself a small smile.  “It’s your ride and I’m just someone who fell into the sidecar.  It’s not your fault and I’m not your responsibility.”  

Yuta let out a breathy laugh.  In the distance, Taeyong heard the quavering notes of police sirens.

“We should get into the party,” said Yuta, “but before we do, thank you.  You saved me, Taeyong.”

Taeyong couldn’t even process the statement before Yuta was turning and slipping through the door.

The music which had been seeping through the door came at Taeyong with a pulverizing intensity when he got inside.  He found himself in a grimy pachinko hall with machines, booths, and orange lighting.  On the wall next to the door was a fully stocked bar manned by a yellow-Hawaiian-shirt-clad Johnny.  Every member of the Inagawa-kai’s 15th Tora regiment had congregated around the bar along with Jaehyun and a few young women Taeyong didn’t recognize.  The room was cloudy with smoke, but despite the assault on their lungs, Mark and Donghyuck had cleared a couple tables in the middle of the room to do some kind of pre-choreographed dance to the song that was currently playing.  Taeyong was pretty sure it was “Back on the Chain Gang” by the Pretenders.  

There was a general noise of excitement when Yuta made his way into the room, followed by a smaller whoop for Taeyong.  

“You made it!” said Johnny, gleefully.  

“Man, you look like shit, Shategashira ,” observed Jungwoo.

“Oh yeah?” mocked Yuta, “while guess what, I’m still sexier than you so who’s the real winner here?”

“Oooooh shit! You just got destroyed, man,” Mark interjected, pausing his routine.  Jungwoo rolled his eyes.

Taeyong wanted to plaster himself against the wall like one of the traditional watercolor prints of tigers that Johnny had up.  He couldn’t understand how Yuta’s demeanor could change so dramatically so quickly.        

“In all seriousness, though,” said Yuta, “today has not been easy.”  

“Oh yeah?” Johnny asked, “come sit.  I’ll make you a drink and you can decompress.  You too, Taeyong.”

Johnny served Taeyong a Sapporo (“that’s all you want?”) and broke out the Suntory he kept for special occasions for Yuta as Yuta recounted their encounter with the Yamaguchi-gumi.  By the end, everyone was stunned into a brief silence as David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance,” played like an ironic joke in the background.  

“Shit,” said Doyoung, “this is going to throw a wrench in things.  At least we know their plan.  But they can’t know we know.”  

“Agreed,” said Yuta, sipping his whiskey.  “Anyway, I know this is a bit of a bomb for us, but this was supposed to be a fun night and I didn’t come here with the intention of bumming you all out.  We’ll have plenty of time to work it out tomorrow.”

“Wait!” said Donghyuck, approaching Taeyong at the bar.  “Johnny, can I get a shot of shochu?”

Taeyong looked at Donghyuck with curious eyes, still a bit scared of the kid.  

“I propose a toast,” Donghyuck declared once he’d been handed his drink, “to our new man Taeyong for showing his stuff and watching out for our Shategashira !”

He and Taeyong exchanged a smile as Taeyong protested weakly.  No one heard him.  

“ Kanpai !” the whole room yelled.  

Taeyong cringed.  “ Kanpai…eyy…arigato, arigato …” he mumbled, doing jazz hands for some reason.  

“Now LET’S DANCE!” yelled Taeil from somewhere behind the bar, and everyone spluttered laughter at his enthusiastic drunken English.  It didn’t deter a girl in a blue silk minidress from sauntering over to him, though.  Hoo, wouldn’t that be easy? thought Taeyong, taking a swig of his beer.  

One beer turned into two; then three, then four, then who knows how many?  The relative mildness of the drink was stopping even lightweight Taeyong from acting out, but he did note with a bit of concern that he hadn’t eaten anything since that onigiri at lunch.  Maybe he should stop.  

“Need another?” asked Johnny.  Or not .

“Sure.”  A very pretty girl in a printed knit dress came up behind Johnny while he was getting another Sapporo from the fridge.  With the short-sleeved shirt Johnny had on, Taeyong could see all the intricate tattoos which practically writhed over his arms.  He realized that he’d never seen Yuta’s arms before, wondering if they looked like that too.  

Taeyong watched apathetically as the girl tried to dance against Johnny and he whispered to her that she needed to calm down while he got his friend a drink.  Taeyong wished, stupidly, that it was him and Yuta.  He tried to remind himself that Yuta was a sociopath who didn’t want him anyway, but sadly, that didn’t help.  

“You want a shot in this?” Johnny finally asked, referring to the beer, more of a suggestion than a question.  “A shot for the shooter?”  

“Why not?” Taeyong wondered aloud by way of an answer, ignoring the dreading feeling which came back at the mention of the shooting.  Johnny poured a shot of shochu in the beer and handed it back to Taeyong.  The resulting beverage already made Taeyong’s head hurt in anticipation of the next morning.

“Mina-chan,” Johnny snapped sardonically when the girl tried again to get a rise out of him, “why don’t you get to know Taeyong here?  He’s new; you’ll like him.  Talk about knee-capping bad guys or makeup or something, I don’t care!”  Taeyong flinched at the mention of makeup, wondering if it was a subtle jab at his sexuality.  He figured it was nothing though, while also making a mental note that Johnny was a bit of a dick when drunk.  

Mina sat down on the stool next to Taeyong, sighing and sipping from her lemon sour.  Then she smiled, and Taeyong was knocked out by the sheer aesthetic beauty of it.  

“Hey,” she said.  “Man of the hour.”

Taeyong tripped over a response, finally settling lamely on “I don’t know about that.”

“Oi!” Taeil was yelling somewhere, so loudly that Taeyong and Mina had to place their conversation on pause. “Johnny!”  

“Yeah?” said Johnny, holding a rag and looking up from a shelf under the bar.  

“Do these machines work?” asked Taeil, looking pretty out of it at this point as he fawned over the pachinko machines.  

“Like, in general?”

“No, right now.”

Johnny sighed.  “Not really, Tae, I turned them off.  Why do you care?”

“I wanna play!” Taeil slurred.  Taeyong giggled when he saw Doyoung make a face that communicated something along the lines of ‘kill me now’ and down the rest of his highball.  

“You don’t wanna play that anyway, man,” said Johnny, throwing the rag over his shoulder.  “They’re rigged.  I don’t want you losing a bunch of money and then blaming me tomorrow.”

“Rigged?  Really?” asked Taeil, incredulous.  “That’s kind of crooked, man.”

Johnny threw his hands up in exasperation.

“A n y w a y,” Mina restarted.  “So, you’re new.  How did that happen?”

Taeyong recounted the story of how he had fallen into his position with the Inagawa-kai and would probably be going insane if it weren’t for Yuta, funnily enough.  He omitted the part where he pined for a week and then got flatly rejected.  

Apparently, the situation behind the bar was continuing to deteriorate even past Taeil’s outbursts, because once Taeyong finished the broad strokes of his story, there was yet another interruption.  

Jaehyun, who had spent most of the gathering sat in a booth, flirting with a girl, came out of nowhere into the center of the space and pointed at Yuta, who was in the middle of a conversation with Mark.

“Yuta-san!  My friend!  I have been dared to wrestle you!”  He was grinning and looking hyper charged and chilled out at the same time.    

Yuta balked.  “Me??  You really want to do that?”

“I’ve been dared!” Jaehyun repeated.  “A true man must fight with honor when the occasion is upon him!”

Mark started to do the thing where he spazzed out all over the place instead of laughing.  Now the whole room was balking.  

“I think he needed to be cut off a while ago,” Taeyong whispered to Mina.  She just sighed.  

“I bet you there’s something a lot stronger than booze in him,” she said, voice resigned.  

“Well alright then,” Yuta agreed, getting up just like that and rolling up his sleeves to reveal the tattoos Taeyong had figured would be there as Jungwoo and Mark cleared some tables away to make room.  

“To the death!” said Jaehyun, pointing at Yuta again.  

“Um – no!” yelled Johnny.  

“Let’s ignore them,” Mina suggested, swiveling her stool to face Taeyong.

“Sounds good.”  The two of them clinked glasses as the sounds of a physical struggle mixed with the rhythm of “Cat’s Eye” by Anri coming from the jukebox.    

“They’re tiring, huh?” Mina prompted.  

“Tell me about it,” Taeyong felt the hard alcohol in his drink burning the back of his throat as he took a sip.  “You ever seen someone get killed, Mina?”

Mina’s expression looked flatly put-off for a moment before she gathered it back up.  “No, Taeyong, I can’t say that I have.”

“Sorry,” Taeyong said, feeling like an idiot. “That’s really morbid, huh?  I just – I’m still kind of in shock and this party’s been a lot for me to process.”

“Yeah,” said Mina, eyes skimming over her knees.  “I bet.  You know how I met Johnny?”

“How?”

“The oldest profession,” she said.  

Taeyong’s brow furrowed for a second.  “Oh! Oh…”

“It’s alright, I know it’s unglamorous,” said Mina.  

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to sound judgmental – I promise.”

“No, no, I know.  But listen, I think if I was a guy who’d grown up in my same situation I’d probably be sitting where you are, and in all honestly after watching the kind of things Johnny gets himself into, I really don’t know if I’d be equipped to handle it.  You want my advice?”

“Sure?”

Mina leaned in so she could whisper over the fight and the music.  “Do what you can to get out of this as quick as possible.  I know you’re worried higher ups than these guys will track you down if you try to run off, and you’re right about that, but the minute the Oyabun and Wakagashira decide you can be trusted you should remove yourself.  That’s what I’d do.”

Taeyong nodded, a little too out of it to know how to respond.  He settled on a mildly accusatory “But you stay.”

“I’m not the one getting shot at,” said Mina.  “Today?  That was just the tip of the iceberg.”  She shrugged and looked at Johnny, “besides, I have someone pulling me in.”

I do too , Taeyong wanted to say but couldn’t, only in part because it wasn’t fully true.  

Mina turned her attention to the wrestling match happening on the tile floor and Taeyong followed suit.  Jaehyun was cackling and holding a yelling Yuta down below him.  The image made Taeyong feel like he had consumed something stronger than alcohol.

Johnny came around to Taeyong and Mina on his way to the jukebox.  “Watch this,” he said with a smirk.  After fiddling with it for a couple seconds the telltale opening strings of “Come on Eileen” filled the room and the fight was being broken up in favor of dancing.  Everyone jumped around, yelling whatever version of the lyrics they could and making fun of the actual English speakers when they admitted even they didn’t understand what was being said.  This is how Taeyong came to learn that Johnny and Mark had each grown up in North America as the children of yakuza outpost members, and Jaehyun had gone to boarding school in Connecticut.  

The drinks, bouncing around, and singing were really starting to shake the memory of earlier in the day out of Taeyong’s brain and by the end of the night, he was barely worrying about Mina’s warnings.

***  

Everyone had gone home except for Johnny, Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Yuta.  The former two were in the alley having a smoke and getting some air, so this left Taeyong and Yuta alone inside.  

Yuta let out a big breath and spun around in the middle of the room.  His hair and clothing were stiff with dried sweat and he had some bruises on his arms and his left cheek.  

“What a day!”

“You alright?” asked Taeyong, parking himself in a nearby chair and eyeing his boss’s mild injuries.  

“Aish,” Yuta jested, flexing his arms as if he were really in pain.  Then, he broke out into a grin and laughed, waving Taeyong off.  “Nah, I’m alright.  Would’a had him if Johnny hadn’t intervened.”

Taeyong giggled.  “Sure.”

“Oi!” Yuta started laughing harder.  “I’ll have you punished for insubordination!”

Sounds good . “Sorry, Shategashira.  You’re right; you are the manliest.”  

Yuta hopped into a walk towards the jukebox.  “We should dance!”

How was he not completely out of energy??  After a moment, “Overkill” by Men at Work started to play.  

“I love this song,” Yuta remarked as if he hadn’t chosen it. “Come on, dance!  That’s an order.”  

Taeyong got up sluggishly and started to move in rhythm with Yuta from across the room. Yuta kept pulling silly faces and making Taeyong laugh in his way where the sounds seemed to keep getting caught in his throat on their way out.  

“Did you have fun tonight?” Yuta asked.  

“It was nice,” said Taeyong.  “I felt like part of the group.”

“Good,” said Yuta, dancing closer and eventually getting right into Taeyong’s personal space, outstretching his hands next to Taeyong’s hips, palms up.  Slowly, Taeyong placed his hands over Yuta’s, staring his dance partner in the eyes and knowing that his must have appeared full of uncertainty.  As if by a natural force, Taeyong’s fingers slipped into the slots between Yuta’s and they swayed like that silently for a few seconds.  It was a good feeling, and Taeyong let his eyes close just long enough to enjoy it.  

“Yu – Shategashira ,”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing?”

Yuta looked back into Taeyong’s eyes and then flickered his gaze away, a breathy smile tracing over his lips.  

“I’m thanking you for saving my life,” he said, plainly.  

“You already did that,” Taeyong all but whispered.  

“Not in the way I wanted to,” Yuta mumbled.  “Not in the way you deserve.”  

Yuta pulled a centimeter closer and Taeyong felt like his skin was an electric grid.  He let out an involuntary gasp as Yuta sighed close to his ear.

“Tell me, Taeyong,” he continued, voice thick with liquor, “do you think I’m a monster?”

“Think you’re a monster?  No! No, Shategashira , don’t be ridiculous.  I don’t think that.  I was just – scared.  I know I said I wasn’t earlier today but that was before…I don’t think you’re a monster.  Anyone with your position would have done the same thing – would have been expected to, even.”

“You’re a very kind person, Taeyong,” Yuta observed.  “I hope you know that.”  

“Thank you…” Taeyong smiled to himself at the compliment.  

Yuta pulled back an inch and flashed his gaze over Taeyong’s face.  “Would it be too much for me to kiss you?” he asked.  

Taeyong felt like all his organs were shutting down at once.  How was this happening? Hadn’t Yuta said no?  Hadn’t that ultimately been the right decision for both of their safety? Taeyong froze, only able to watch Yuta’s beautiful face and babble god knows what – he didn’t know.  Finally, he managed to spit out, “but I thought you didn’t want me.”

Yuta looked genuinely hurt.  “I never said that, Taeyong,” he clarified.  “And what I did say was a mistake.  I’m trying to make up for that.”

Taeyong nodded.  “Okay.”

“Okay I can kiss you?”

“Mm-hm.”

And that was all it took.  Yuta pressed his soft lips to Taeyong’s and they stayed there like that as any awareness of the outside world grew fuzzy.  It was gentle enough that Taeyong didn’t know if it was perfect or if he wanted more.  Fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t have to decide right then, because just as he was beginning to melt fully into the kiss, he heard Johnny and Jaehyun chatting as they walked back inside.  Yuta pulled away quickly, but even if neither man had seen anything, the position Taeyong was in with him was incriminating enough.  Taeyong’s face flushed so hard it almost turned violet as Johnny and Jaehyun snickered.  Yuta, thankfully, was relatively cool enough to handle the situation.  

“You two go on ahead.  Taeyong and I will stay and lock up,” he offered.  

“Alright, Shategashira ,” said Johnny slyly.  “You do that.”  

As the last two stragglers got ready to leave, Taeyong felt himself begin to panic.  He was pretty sure all of Yuta’s friends knew about his sexuality, but he couldn’t remember if he had ever confirmed that fact or if he’d just inferred it.  Finally, he was alone again with Yuta.  

“Sorry about that,” said Yuta.  

“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” Taeyong mumbled.  

“Right.”  Yuta sat next to Taeyong on a chair and pretended to zip his mouth shut.  Taeyong laughed.

“They…know, right?” asked Taeyong and Yuta’s eyes went as round as coins.  

“Oh, my god, yes!  They do!  Don’t worry about them.  They’re obnoxious for other reasons.”  

Taeyong finally let himself relax into his seat. “Good,” he breathed.  

“Taeyong,” said Yuta, his voice taking on a darkness it didn’t have before and Taeyong looked at him expectantly.  “Come here.”  

Taeyong stood and traversed the couple of feet between them.  Yuta patted his lap and Taeyong thought he was going to faint.  He didn’t.  Instead, he straddled Yuta hesitantly and let the man below him look him up and down, gaze sharp.  

“Is this good?” he asked.  

Yuta skimmed his hands lightly over the seams in Taeyong’s jeans.  “Yeah it’s good,” he said.  “You’re so good.”  

Taeyong closed his eyes at that and let out a choked sound.  

“Ah,” remarked Yuta, using his right hand to ruffle Taeyong’s hair and then brush over his cheek.  “Yonggie likes praise, then?”

“Mm, mm-hm,” Taeyong confirmed, leaning into the soothing movements.  

“Can I touch you?”

Taeyong nodded.  “Yes please.”

This time, Yuta let his palms run flat over Taeyong’s thighs and up to his hips, causing Taeyong to wriggle in his lap.  Yuta pulled Taeyong forward into another kiss, deeper and more insistent this time.  It felt sloppy and wet and Taeyong absolutely loved it; couldn’t help himself from grinding his hips just a little bit, although when Yuta noticed this, he tried to hold him in place.  

When Yuta pulled away, Taeyong let his face hover nearby, pink and panting.  Yuta’s lips were glossy and somewhat swollen, and he was looking at Taeyong like he was about to disappear and needed to be studied thoroughly so he could be remembered.  Yuta’s hands roamed over Taeyong’s back, slipping under his shirt.

“ Shategashira ,” Taeyong said in surprise before he had adjusted to the temperature of Yuta’s skin.  Yuta burst out in whooping laughter, throwing his head back in a way that made Taeyong both nervous and aroused.  God , Taeyong thought, hands going to his mouth out of nervous habit, Yuta was going to devastate him.  

When Yuta came back up for air, he stared at Taeyong in mock incredulity.  “Oh, stop playing with your lips,” he said.  “You’re always doing that and it drives me crazy.”

Taeyong ripped his hand away, embarrassed.  “What was so funny?”

“If we’re going to do this, you need to drop the title, Taeyong. Just call me by my name,” Yuta explained, holding Taeyong’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger as if chiding a child.  Taeyong loved it.  All of it.  He smirked.  

“What if I like it?” he challenged.

Now it was Yuta smirking.  “Oh?  Taeyong likes titles, hm?” he leaned forward to start kissing up Taeyong’s neck and Taeyong mewled.  “You like feeling like I’m in charge, even now,” he teased between kisses, “hm, sweetheart?”

That was all Taeyong could take. He started grinding again and this time, Yuta didn’t stop him.

“Yes, Shategashira . I like it so much.”  Yuta sucked a love bite into the skin over Taeyong’s collarbone and Taeyong hissed.  

“Pretty,” Yuta admired absently when he pulled away.  Taeyong was so lost in feeling that it took him until this moment to notice the pressure that had started to build against his thigh.  He looked down at where Yuta was straining against his black jeans.  If he was being honest, he was getting a little uncomfortable himself.  

“Yuta,” he breathed, forgetting all about power play for a second.  Yuta chuckled.  

“I know,” he said, “I didn’t really mean for that to happen but here we are.”

Taeyong raised his eyebrows cutely.  “Would you like me to help you with that, Shategashira ?”  He was ready to drop to his knees at a moment’s notice, so he felt a little disappointed when Yuta waved him off.  

“No, no.  Let me handle it.  I have an idea.”

Taeyong watched silently as Yuta pulled himself out of his pants and started to stroke himself, looking directly at Taeyong.  Taeyong’s eyes went wide and he licked his lips.  Yuta’s wasn’t the biggest cock Taeyong had ever seen, but it wasn’t small either and what it lacked in length it made up for in girth.  

“Fuck, Taeyong, unzip your pants.”

Taeyong made quick work of his fly and let Yuta reach out and pull down the front of his boxers.  Yuta pumped Taeyong a couple of times, making Taeyong gasp when his thumb traced over the head of his cock, then instructed him to move up a little on his lap.  Taeyong watched as Yuta spit on his palm and wrapped his hand around both of them, letting out a gut-punched moan at the contact.  

“Shit, Shategashira , ahh.”

Taeyong tried to let go and focus on the slide of Yuta’s hand on one side and his cock on the other, but he couldn’t help thinking how lewd this was: him perched on Yuta’s lap, face mottled with red splotches, starting to leak onto Yuta’s hand and the clothing that they were both still wearing.    

Yuta moaned and Taeyong felt himself twitch, hips jerking into the partial ring of Yuta’s grip.  Pleasure radiated from where Yuta was touching him all the way up to his head, stopping to pool hotly at the base of his stomach.  

“You asked if I thought about you,” Yuta murmured, speeding up his rhythm.  “I should have told you the truth, which is that I did.  All the time.  Sometimes at night I’d imagine you on my lap like this, or in my bed.”

Taeyong made a choked noise and Yuta leaned forward to pepper kisses over his cheeks.  “But you’re so much better in real life.”  Yuta made a sound in Taeyong’s ear somewhere between a moan and a sigh and laughed darkly.  “Did you think about me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, yes, Shategashira , I did.  I tried not to, but I didmmmmmmm…” Taeyong cut himself off with a groan when Yuta pushed his thumb over Taeyong’s slit.  The sensations were starting to overwhelm him.    

“Yuta?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Taeyong shivered, his hips beginning to twitch in fits and starts.

“I’m gonna come.”

“Whenever you need to, Yonggie.”  Yuta tried to speed up his strokes one more time. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Taeyong held onto Yuta’s shoulders and Yuta kissed him again as he spasmed through his release, the sounds he made getting muffled by Yuta’s mouth.  When he pulled away, Yuta was grinning and still stroking him through his aftershocks, the movements slicked now by a new layer of Taeyong’s come.  The sight made whatever was left of Taeyong’s brain go numb.  

All of a sudden, Taeyong was so sensitive that he felt like needles were pricking at his skin.  

“Ah, ah, okay, stop, Shategashira , please,” he pleaded, squirming.

Yuta allowed Taeyong to pull himself away and closed his eyes, focused on achieving his own release.  Taeyong took advantage of the moment to kneel on the floor between Yuta’s thighs, and when Yuta reopened his eyes, he was the one twitching.  

“Oh, my god Taeyong,” he growled.  

“It’s okay, I like this.  Please, Shategashira , I want your come.”

Taeyong opened his mouth and stared up at Yuta.  Within seconds, his pose had the desired effect: Yuta was groaning and coming over Taeyong’s mouth.  Taeyong licked his lips as Yuta watched, spasming and rubbing himself slowly; his heavy breathing was the only sound in the room.  Taeyong shimmied a little closer and lapped innocently at the head of Yuta’s cock, and Yuta threw his hands over his face.

“Ooooh, my god, Yong…”

Taeyong kept at it until Yuta started to squirm, reveling in the idea that he had made the cool, collected badass that was Nakamoto Yuta come undone like this.  

“Alright, alright,” Yuta said, guiding Taeyong back to his lap with a hand on his scalp.  Once there, Yuta stuck his dick back in his underwear haphazardly and brushed his fingers through Taeyong’s hair.  

“Did you like it, Shategashira ?” asked Taeyong, eyes blown out.  

“Like it?  I thought you were going to kill me there for a second.  You were so good, getting on your knees for me.”

Taeyong giggled.  

“Did you like it, Taeyong?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “I liked it a lot.  Thank you.”

Yuta chuckled, pulling Taeyong in for one more kiss.  He sighed after.  

“Okay, I know Johnny has clean towels in here somewhere.  Don't go anywhere; I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”  Yuta pecked Taeyong on the nose for good measure before he stood, and when Taeyong got up to let Yuta off the chair he almost fell over, barely managing to steady himself.

Yuta returned with a clean one of Johnny’s bar rags that he’d run under some water and cleaned them both off.

“Okay,” he said thoughtfully.  “That’s better.”  He considered the rag.  “I’m going to need to bring this home with me to wash.”  

Taeyong blushed and Yuta pulled him into his side, looking around.  “Not a very romantic setting, is it?”

“No,” agreed Taeyong.  

“Next time we’ll go somewhere better and I’ll make love to you properly,” said Yuta, casually.

Next time.  

Yuta continued, “we should probably lock up like I said we would and get out of here, hm?”

“Yeah.”

Yuta kissed Taeyong’s cheek and practically charged towards the front door, throwing Taeyong a small key.  “I’m getting the front, so you get the back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Taeyong felt like he was high for the rest of the night and could barely get himself to sleep despite the knowledge that tomorrow would be a busy day.  He couldn’t believe what had happened.  He wished he could visit the version of himself that existed only days earlier and share the good news.  Maybe, he thought, this whole insane situation he’d found himself in would work out for the best after all.