#literally rolling around in bed. punching the mattress. screaming into my pillow.

[unsettlingcreature]

OK shit OK so I am just playing chapter 3 of Infamous rn and OHHHHHH MY GOD. GRRRRRIFFIN??? THE MIC SCENE?? OH MY GOD.

[starlightsearches]

Your headcanon about Eddie actually wanting to be babied a bit is SO good you’re so damn smart! Just letting him rest his pretty head on your tits and stroking him off real slow, going ‘good boy’ and ‘that’s it, honey’. The pleasure combined with feeling so safe and loved hits him like a truck and-I’m broken. My brain is a slushie over this. Need to take care of man need to put him in jar with holes poked in the lid like a firefly

Let Me Be Good to You

My love, the inspiration you have provided for me is simply *chef's kiss* 🤌 I've thought about it every day since you've shared it with me, and I hope you enjoy this little blurb I've written in response 💖

Please let me know if you liked this—comments always make my week! Requests are open if you'd like to send something in or scream your thoughts about this perfect boy 🥰

Eddie x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: no spoilers, 18+ only!, hand job (m recieving), spit as lube, cum eating, eddie is self-deprecating, PRAISE KINK, pet names, veeeeeeeeerrrrrry soft dom/sub dynamics if you're looking for it, idk if it's good or not I'm just horny lol

Eddie flops down on the mattress beside you with a dramatic sigh, burying his face in your stuffed ewok. He made fun of you for buying it in the moment, but you know it's his favorite—always in his arms whenever he's stretched long across your bed. Out of habit, your fingers stroke through his hair, scratching your nails at the scalp the way you know he likes.

"Rough day?"

Eddie nods, his big eyes finding yours over the horizon of your pillows, tough exterior discarded along with his jacket on your floor.

You lay back so you're at his level, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose. "Wanna talk about it?"

He pauses, chewing on the words. It doesn't surprise you—Eddie lets most things roll off his shoulders, but when he gets hit by something, it hits hard.

"It's nothing, just, uh,"—he flips onto his back, posed like a corpse with the ewok trapped under his arms— "I'm probably gonna flunk Mrs. O'Donnell's class again, 'cause I . . . I failed her last test."

"What?"

It's literally the last thing you'd ever expected him to say. You'd helped him study for that test yourself, gone over the practice problems with until you were sure he could could do them blind-folded, underwater, and half-dead. The stupidest thing was that you didn't really need to do that much prep; Eddie was good at math. He was good at a lot of things when it came to school . . . he just had a hard time getting himself to focus.

His big, brown eyes are glassy with tears, pointed at the ceiling, unblinking, so they won't stain his cheeks. "She wouldn't even grade it. Said I cheated."

His voice is soft, and small—quieter than you're used to. You, on the other hand, are ready to explode.

"Are you shitting me?"

You're off the bed—leaping over him—grabbing your keys, balling up a jacket in your hand, about to march to the door before he grabs at your wrist, pulling you back to him with a few stumbling steps.

"Babe, where are you going?"

"To the school. I'm gonna give that raggedy bitch a piece of my mind."

He pulls you back down against the mattress, slipping your keys from your hand and tossing them onto your bedside table. You're still thinking about escape—until he pulls you tight against his chest, bodies curled around each other, legs intertwined. You've always been a little helpless when you're trapped in Eddie's arms.

"You don't have to do that, honey. My counselor said she'd talk to Mrs. O'Donnell, at least convince her to let me retake it."

"That's so unfair," you sigh, limply punching at one of the pillows. Against your best attempts, he's kneaded the anger right out of you, the rings on his fingers catching along your shoulder blade with every stroke of his hand.

"It's whatever," Eddie shrugs, like the action could make him care less, "she's always hated me. And it's not like she's wrong. I'd think I was too stupid to do it on my own, if I were her."

Stupid. God, you couldn't hate that fucking word more. You shift onto your hip, sick to your stomach that he could even think that way.

"Don't say that."

He's still not looking at you, chewing at his bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of your top. "Why not? It's true."

"No it isn't, Eddie." You've got his face sandwiched in both of your hands, begging him to look you in the eyes, even if he doesn't want you to see him cry. "You're smart, Eddie. You are. I don't give a fuck what Mrs. O'Donnell thinks."

The tears are there, pooling against the junctions of your thumbs. It breaks your fucking heart to think how little he hears those words—not from teachers, not from people in his classes, probably not even from his friends. Wayne was a good guy, but school had never really been all that great for him either. He wouldn't even think a worry like that would be on Eddie's mind.

Eddie's voice is wet, lips trembling around the word. "Really?"

"Yes, really,"—you're getting a little enthusiastic, but you mean it, and you can't temper your praise when he needs it so badly—"of course you're smart. You're so, so, so smart, Eddie."

He laughs weakly, pushing at your shoulder when you start to pepper him with kisses, but you know his heart's not in it, petting along the side of your face, warm fingers cupped around the back of your neck.

Big eyes locked onto yours, he couldn't hide from you if he tried. "Say it again."

You press your lips against his temple, punctuating each compliment with another gentle kiss. "You are smart. And you're fucking talented. And kind. And so, so good to me."

Your path leads you to his lips, capturing them against yours, pressing him so far back into the pillows that strands of his hair are tickling at your cheeks. His hand comes to rest at your jaw, the bottom of his palm just barely brushing against your skin, like he's still not sure if he should be allowed to touch you. You lean in to his hand.

Eddie kisses you the way he knows you like, darting the tip of his tongue against your lips before upping the pressure, moaning against your skin. His free hand travels along your spine, fingers striking up a melody that only he can hear.

And then he grips tight at your waist, and things are decidedly less sweet, fingers carving indents in your side as you shift more of your weight on top of him, chest to chest, the top of your thigh dragging along his crotch.

Eddie groans at the feeling, a twitch in his hips, looking for a little more friction.

You're gonna give him more than a little.

Petting a hand over his thigh, you slide closer to the distended fabric of his jeans, just barely stroking the edge of your thumb across the shape of him, feeling his cock throb for you through the thick fabric.

Spit spreads across his chin as you whisper, his head pressed back and eyes clenched tight. "Let me take care of you, baby."

Eddie nods—your teasing has taken the words out of his mouth, but he's putty in your hands, compliant as you get comfortable against your headboard, pulling him into the space between your legs.

Gentle fingers brush a few strands of his hair away from your face as his head comes to rest against your shoulder, his wet breaths at your neck. Eddie stares at the soft patch of skin just below your earlobe, vision going dark at the edges when you slip your hand inside his unbuttoned pants.

He sighs, lifting his back as he shifts into your grip, coming back down to rest with his head pillowed against your chest.

"Comfortable?" you ask, meeting his eyes with a sly smile. He's got a pretty little flush in his cheeks, dark eyelashes framing his big doe-eyes, looking up at you with a kind of disbelief you'd never understand.

He nods, flushing darker when you press a kiss to the top of his head.

Eddie's cock is pretty, and thick—dark red when you slip it from the confines of his boxers and bring it into the light. He whines when you let go, but the sound is cut off in his throat when he hears your spit meet the palm of your hand.

"How does that feel?"

You're coating the base of him, stroking higher, further over his hot skin—always gentle with him—rolling the tip of his cock in your palm until it's all shiny and slick, your spit mixing with the first drops of pre-cum he's leaking.

The groan he answers with rumbles through your own chest, hair tickling at your chin as he nods. "Feels good—real good, baby, please don't stop."

There's no need to worry about that. Heat builds at your own core just watching him squirm, his lips parted and glistening and eyes shut tight.

You feel his fingers wrap tight around your thigh, the softness of hands contrasted with the bite of his rings, and he struggles in vain to get at your core, trying to give back some of the pleasure he's getting. You kick his hand down to the sheets with a gentle nudge of your leg. His knuckles turn white with the grip he's got on the fabric.

"Don't worry about me, baby. This is about you."

Eddie nods, lips pressed tight, trying to stopper the little moans slipping through. You don't want him to hold back.

Kissing across his temples, you pepper praises into his ear, listening closely to the sounds he makes in response.

"You're such a good boy, Eddie. So good for me. Such a smart, pretty boy. God you're pretty, Eddie. Did you know that?"

He's having a hard time responding, his cock pulsing in your hand. Your fingers travel easier over his skin with the slick he's beginning to spill. Eddie's head falls back, eyes blown wide, when you play with his slit, massaging the sensitive skin with the pad of your thumb.

"Baby," he calls out, his sweat-slicked t-shirt riding up a little over his hips with the way he writhes, revealing the thin stretch of skin above his belt, and the dark little hairs that grow there, "m'gonna cum."

You just tighten the circle of your fingers, speeding the pace of your hand over his taut skin.

"Go ahead, baby," you tell him, your own breathing heavy, "I want you to."

He spills, thick white ropes of cum staining his black t-shirt, and his body curves around the sound he makes, a deep, satisfied groan coursing from his lungs.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes, big eyes meeting yours, going wider when you clean some of the cum off his shirt with your thumb, popping it between your lips.

He mashes his face against yours, kissing the taste of him from your mouth, his tongue licking at yours.

You laugh at the dopey grin on his face when you part from the kiss. "Feeling better?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants, a little self-conscious. You take his hands in your own, twining your fingers together. His tongue darts over dark pink lips, eyes locked on yours.

"Good," —you give him a soft peck, and then another—" 'cause you deserve it, Eddie. You deserve the whole goddamn world."

[omg-imatotalmess]

Your Turn

Hey guys! So, y'all can thank Skirt anon for this absolutely wonderful idea. They really outdid themselves offering me an idea like this because I literally couldn't stop thinking about it. Like, I really just went head too full. Hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Based on this ask: Ok I had a ✨thot✨for sub Harry- basically having him riding ur strap and it's a larger one than he's used to and even with prep he's squirming around.

"It's too big!" (He's fine it's just for the scene) and you just kiss away his tears and bring him down harder and thrust up a little and as it presses into his prostate, he lets out a cry as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life without you even touching his dick

-skirt anon

Warnings: Smut, sub!harry, dom!reader, pegging, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), slight praise kink, swearing

                                                            ---

Art came in many forms: songs played for generations, paintings in museums, sculptures that endured lifetimes, but none that rivaled Harry. More specifically, Harry as he was just then. Eyes clenched shut, and tear tracks down his flushed face as he slid inch after inch of your strap into him. You'd never seen any piece of art more worthy of praise or more breathtaking than him. And completely yours. Only for you to see. A smile graced your lips at the thought, and you trailed your eyes over his trembling body again. You'd never seen anything more exquisite in your life.

"Beautiful," you murmured.

"(Y/N)," he whined, hands tightening on your shoulders. Gently, you ran your hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles jump under your attentions and the strain of holding himself up. You bucked your hips, sliding a little more of your cock into him. A strangled moan filled the air around you.

"What's the matter?" you asked as if you didn't already know.

"It's too big!" he sobbed.

"But you're nice and full, aren't you? All stuffed full of my cock. That's what you wanted, sweet boy," you said. More tears dripped down his cheeks as you thrust in again.

"Yes!" he cried breathily. Leaning forward, you began peppering kisses all over his face and neck. You couldn't tell if the slightly salty taste was from sweat or tears, but it made you shiver anyway. The effect you had on him always made you a little breathless. It took so little to have him shaking and crying on your strap. And you were the only one that got to see this stunning creature this way. Trailing your fingers back up his thighs, you latched onto his hips. Perhaps with a little more force than necessary, hoping to see the bruises tomorrow.

"Show me how much you love it then. Fuck that pretty ass on my cock," you purred.

"I can't, I can't. (Y/N)!" he moaned, voice pitching up and cracking on your name.

"Then let me help you, baby," you said. And in one fluid movement, you dragged him down on you and slammed your hips up. The resounding howl rattled the windows, making you glad you'd remembered the silencing charm.

You set your hips at a punishing pace, driving your strap into him without allowing him time to gather his thoughts. All he managed to get out were strangled sobs and mewling sounds that might have been some version of your name. At some point, he'd wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you as close as he could get you. Tears and sweat mixed as they dripped onto the skin of your collar bone and little punched-out breaths fanned across your cheeks. You couldn't stop.

"Too much! More, please, more!" he begged, slamming his hips down in a sloppy rhythm.

"That's my good boy," you panted.

"I can't! Too much! I need more!" You weren't sure if he was even aware that he was speaking at this point, but you didn't care. It didn't matter. Your golden boy needed more, and you were damn well going to give him as much as he could handle.

"Are you gonna cum for me, Harry?" you asked, digging your hands into the soft flesh of his ass.

"Yes! Please, please, so much!" he babbled. His cock twitched violently where it was trapped between your stomachs. A wicked smile cut across your lips as you pressed him back so that delicious friction came away from his overly slick cock.

"I want you to cum from my cock and my cock alone. Can you do that for me?" you asked. The answer you got was a simple incoherent cry. His bouncing became more frantic. You were just enjoying being about to watch his angry red cock bob in front of you.

"So hard for me. What a good boy," you cooed.

"Harder! Use me!" Harry's desperate plea shook you down to your core. Electricity shot up and down your spine as you slammed up into him again. Judging by the howl, you'd hit his prostate dead on. Then something savage awoke in you.

Shoving him onto his back, you hiked his legs over your shoulders and thrust into him with a surprising amount of force. All you could focus on was fucking him through the mattress. Being too much. Being the only thing he could think about, then forcing him not to think at all. And you were. His back arched as he sobbed out long whining moans so forceful you wondered if he was past words. Vaguely, you could feel his hands curl into your hair. The slight pull drove you harder into him. You could barely hear the slapping skin over the cacophony of moans. Hips bucking up erratically, head thrown back with the tendons of his neck bulging, Harry let out the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

"(Y/NNNN)!" he howled, drawing out your name into a near scream as he came.

The sight of him with his eyes rolled back in his head as he painted his chest and your stomach with his cum was nearly enough to send you over the edge. It almost did. Slowly, you rocked your hips into him, letting him ride it out until he finally went limp. You stilled for a moment, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"You alright, love?" you asked, sliding your strap from him.

"Brilliant," he slurred, peering up at you with his eyes just barely open.

"Good," you said, "Did you like that? Was it okay?"

"Brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant," he said. Harry gave you a lazy smile that made your heart squeeze. The amount of affection you had for him was a little overwhelming. "Your turn."

"Wha-" Before you could fully answer, he rolled over until he laid over you.

"Let me finish you off, yeah?" he asked.

"Please do," you said.

"Can I- can I use my mouth?" For a moment, he looked almost a little shy, which was a bit laughable considering you'd just fucked him within an inch of his life.

"Fuck yeah," you breathed, letting your head drop back into the pillows.

You felt him hook your legs comfortably over his shoulders, and a hot breath caressed your slick skin. A shiver coursed through you. You hadn't realized how worked up you were until just then. Then your thoughts cut out entirely. Harry dragged his tongue over you, lapping gently at your lips, looking up at you to carefully watch your expression. You swore this gorgeous boy would be the death of you. He did it again. This time just barely flickering inside. Humming, you threaded your fingers into his hair.

"Good boy. Just like that," you sighed.

Harry was always a gentle lover despite the way he liked you to treat him in bed. He saw to your needs with the utmost care, with soft sweeps of his tongue, never rushing anything, building you up until you couldn't stand it, and you love him for it. All he ever asked in return was that you told him he was doing it right. And by god, you could do that for him. With every flick of his tongue over your clit and easy swirling over you, you let him know how good he was. You let every little sound he pulled from you slip out unchecked. Every sound seemed to tell him exactly where you needed him most. His hands massaged your legs in the most intoxicating way that had you going boneless under them. Pulling your thighs further apart, he pressed his face more into you.

"You taste so good. God, I love it," he muttered against you, toying with your clit.

"Good. Harry, so fucking good!" you groaned.

"You drive me crazy when you say my name like that, you know?" he said, genuine amazement coloring his voice. You arched your back, keening at the sound. You felt like you might be floating. Or losing your mind.

"Shit, that's it," you hissed.

You'd lost track of what he was doing. Whether it was his hands or his mouth on you didn't make a difference. With everything that had taken place, you were teetering so close to the edge you couldn't think. You didn't care to. Harry worked around your clit again just the way you needed him to, and you felt your hips jump up. So close.

"Please cum in my mouth," Harry pleaded, the words slightly muffled.

And you were falling over the edge. Your voice choked off into a soundless moan as you arched against him. Your thighs shook uncontrollably. The rhythmic rolling of your hips that you'd just noticed turned to jittery, forceful thrusts against his lips, grinding for all you were worth. Harry simply stayed there, licking up every drop of slick you gave until you relaxed. Only when you began pushing his head away did he really stop.

"Harry," you sighed for no other reason than saying his name.

"Was that good?" he asked, green eyes staring up at you through pieces of displaced hair.

"Jesus, yeah. You're always good," you said. Smiling, he crawled back up, covering your body with his own.

"You too. I mean, so are you," he said. Laughing, you pressed a kiss against his messy lips and let yourself relax against the sheets. Both of you were in desperate need of a shower, but you had the feeling that would have to come later. When Harry snuggled under your chin, you decided you didn't really mind.

[bippiti]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

↳ req yes

↳ pairing jake x gn! reader

↳ wc 535

↳ cw smut, use of nicknames (love), possessive jake, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), picking up reader, mentions of bruising,

↳ an its literally 3am but i had a random burst of motivation so here yall go😭🙏 (unproofread and intended lowercase)

#navi

- you and jake had found a cafe recently, so today you had decided to visit to study

- after staring at the menu for a bit, you ordered your drinks

- "order number 15!"

- you walked up to the counter, and got your drinks

- the barista took a deep breath, as if to gather confidence before he said

- "you can do better you know"

- "excuse me?" - "than him, you can do better"

- "and who exactly do you have in mind? yourself?"

- "well, yes actually"

-"as if"

- you turned around and brought your drinks back to jake, who looked up to you and smiled as your gave him his drink

- "thanks love"

- "it's no problem" you said and smiled

- then you both got to work

- not even 20 minutes in, you feel like someone was staring at you

- when you looked up you made eye contact with the barista, and rolled your eyes

- jake saw this so he asked you what was up

- as you explained, he get annoyed

- shortly after you both left, hand in hand

♬♩♪♩♪♩♬

- once you got back jake pushed you up against the wall

- you could feel his breath fanning your neck, his cologne wafter heavily through the air

- "do you know how hard it was not to go up and punch him? you're mine"

- "i am, i'm yours and you're mine, okay?"

- he glanced down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes

- "can i?"

- you nodded

- his arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you in for a kiss

- he moved back, and for a few seconds the only sounds heard were both of your pants

- then he was kissing you again, one of his arms hooked under your legs

- "jump"

- as you did he began to walk towards your room

♬♩♪♩♪♩♬

-your screams are muffled into the pillow under you, each thrust sending your face deeper and deeper into the mattress

- jakes hands are digging into your hips, and you can feel the bruises forming

- he halts, his hands running down your spine before he flips you over

- now he can see you in all your glory

- swollen lips, messy hair, and not a thought in your head

- he loved it

- he pushed in again, giving you time to adjust before he picked up his pace

- your eyes roll to the back of your head, the feeling of his dick inside you was making you lose it

- his thrusts started to get sloppy, and strings of moans were leaving his mouth

- he was about to cum

- and so were you

- he dripped his head into the crook of your neck and bit your sweet spot

- and that was all it took for you to have your back arching off the bed, eyes clamping shut

- he followed suit soon after, pulling out to cum on your stomach

- you close your eyes, about to drift off when you hear him say

- “you didn’t think i was done yet did you?”

© chandinii 2021, don’t copy, reupload, or modify my writing in any way without my consent.

[letitrainathousandflames]

ILL INDULGE!! Alpha-17 + escaped from Empire + being comforted from a nightmare?? I've got more once I finish some mother's day things!!

THANK YOU! Here goes:

-

Rating: Teens and Up

Tags: PTSD, Nightmares, Crying, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Reader/Clone

-

Ever since the two of you had moved in together, Alpha-17 had been sleeping on your couch rather than your bed, despite your insistence for him to join you in the bedroom.

Don’t get it wrong, he would give you everything you could want and more as the loving boyfriend he was, and this was literally the only thing that bothered you about him.

(“I’m a noisy sleeper,” he would say every time, “I’ll end up keeping you up. Can’t do that to my cyare, now can I?”)

The two of you have been living together since... well, since he had to escape the Empire and you had met him, working as a bounty hunter so he wouldn’t starve and maybe be able to eventually pay for a one-way trip to the outer rim, as far from the capital as possible.

When he asked where he could find shelter for the night for fifty credits at the bar you were working, you looked at this man, his unshaven face and exhausted eyes and told him that not even the cheapest places would take such small pay... but he was free to crash at your couch for the night.

And so he did. Thank the stars, he accepted your offer to crash at your place whenever he needed or his job took him close to your planet again, and every time the two of you met - including the one occasion you had to help him fix some nasty work-related wounds - you grew closer. One night after a few sips of Corellian wine you ended up sharing a long, tender kiss and before you knew it, you were straddling him, grinding on his codpiece and-

Well, let’s just say that your friendship to the clone had some extra benefits after that.

The steamy nights of mindless sex led to long conversations afterwards, and lazy mornings with breakfast in bed, the whole process so organic you took a while to realize that you two were no longer two strangers sharing the same space and occasionally fucking each other senseless: you were dating.

-

Which brought you back to now.

“I’m your girlfriend, Alpha.” You cross your arms, rubbing at them with hurt clear in your voice “I wanna sleep together. Please, I swear I won’t mind some snoring.”

Alpha looks away from you, fixing up a pillow on the couch and the blue blanket you would always lend him for the night. His entire demeanor is awkward, his jaw set and his throat bobbing as he swallows down, gritting his teeth.

“It’s-” he hesitates to then lightly punch the pillow in place “it’s not snoring, I just- I like having my space.”

“Alpha...”

“Just let it go.” Alpha’s tone is harsh but it softens quickly “Please.”

You huff, shaking your head and turning your back on him to enter your bedroom. You can’t help feeling rejected and upset, huffing a breath.

“Fine. Goodnight.”

“Goodni-”

You click the door shut before he can finish, undressing and angrily throwing your clothes to the floor before shoving your head into your long sleeping shirt and climbing into your bed.

You just wanted to have him near you. It was cute having him out of your room before you two admitted to each other and yourselves that you were actually dating, but now it feels just stupid. You would understand him not staying if he had to leave for some early mission, but having him at your place for the night, sleeping on your couch when your room is about five steps from there is ridiculous.

You wanna snuggle to him just like you do after sex - although even then, he sneaks out of the room as soon as you are asleep. You wanna wake up looking at his handsome face and his beautiful brown eyes.

You shove your feet under the covers and press the remote on your nightstand, turning the lights off. The room becomes dark, and you are still thinking of what could possibly be the reason for Alpha not wanting to sleep with you when you hear two soft knocks on your bedroom door.

You sit up, turning your small nightlight on and piping out:

“Yes?...”

There is a long stretch of silence before alpha’s voice comes through, small and sheepish:

“It’s me. I...” he cracks the door open, and the dimmed light of the living room spills through the opening, “...can I still sleep with you?”

You straighten yourself up, all your anger vanishing in an instant while you toss the covers to the side, nodding repeatedly:

“Yes! Yes, you can! Please... come in.”

Alpha walks in, dragging his feet on the floor, his chin dipped down and his gaze low. He is carrying his pillow under his arm and wearing only his black sleeping pants.

“Hey there, handsome.” you say affectionately as he shuffles to your bed, placing his pillow next to yours

“Hey.” Alpha climbs on the bed, shimmying close to you and snaking his arm over your middle, nuzzling at the crook of your neck; he feels incredibly warm, making you melt at his touch “Moons, you smell so good.”

You giggle, throwing the covers over you both and snuggling up to his muscular chest as he lies half-sitting on your bed, your palm resting over his stomach. He’s one to say it, his warm body smelling of your soap and something distinctively… his. A scent that makes you feel safe and at home.

“So do you.” You press a kiss to his face, fixing your pillow so that you can lift your upper body as well, letting his arm drape over your shoulders as you sit up, pressing yourself to his side “What made you change your mind?”

Alpha stays quiet, his chest moving slowly with his breath. The more your eyes get used to the darkness, the better you can see him even with only the dim nightlight on. He brings a hand to your face, cupping your cheek.

“I love you. I don’t want you to think I don’t.”

You wince at the restlessness in his gaze, shaking your head:

“Alpha, I never said-”

“But” Alpha interrupts you, and you can distinctly notice the tension tinging his voice, taking over his features “I need you to know that this isn’t about me snoring, or moving around too much, it’s just that...”

There is a pause where he clicks his tongue and he turns his face away even though you can barely see it in the poorly-lit room.

“...I have nightmares. And sometimes I-” he pulls his arm back from over your shoulders, swallowing down as his breath hitches “sometimes I wake up in a frenzy, kicking and screaming. It’s not pretty. I don’t want you to see it. It’s why... it’s why I’ve been hiding away from you.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide in shock. Of everything, you did not expect this to be the reason why he wouldn’t sleep with you. All this time, you had thought he just didn’t want to get attached to you, and…

You bring a hand to his face, cupping his jaw and watching as he reluctantly draws his gaze back to you, low and timid.

“What kind of nightmares?” you ask, trying to understand more and immediately regretting it as he purses his lips tightly, swallowing down in clear discomfort “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

Alpha places his hand over yours – his fingers calloused from years of combat and firing blasters. His tone is hushed, a low murmur that matches his sheepish expression.

“I just… don’t wanna scare you if it happens.”

“Oh, love…” you lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth to then lay your head on his shoulder, looking up to him “You won’t scare me, I promise. I’ll be here for you, and we’ll get through this together, okay?”

Alpha’s hands met your back, wrapping you in a tight hug. He exhales heavily with a hum, muscles losing tension as the air leaves him. One of his hands move up to your nape, fingers caressing your scalp.

“Stars, I can’t imagine what I’ve done to deserve someone like you.”

-

Alpha ends up spooning you, one leg draped over your waist and his arm clutching you flush to his body. You are surrounded by warmth, hearing the gentle sound of his breathing. This feels so… intimate, more so than the many nights of steamy sex you two had shared. Sleep weights your eyelids down, and your mouth parts open, every inch of you loosening into relaxation. The thoughts swirling in your mind lose form, dissolving into nothing, and you sink into sleep with a content hum.

You don’t know how much time has passed. You don’t know what time it is. All you know is that its definitely still night as you are jolted awake by a blood-curdling scream.

Panicking, you sit up in bed to another scream in a voice you know too well. Alpha. Alpha is screaming right next to you, and you scramble for the nightlight switch, turning it on and whipping your head back to look at the man lying next to you.

Alpha seems to have tossed the covers, lying on his side with his back facing you. His whole body is curled tightly in a ball, biceps jutting up as his hands clutch at his head, his fingers buried in the dark hair as they grip and tug at it. There is a sheen of sweat glistening over his skin, and his face is all red.

One of his legs give a sharp kick towards the end of the bed, and the other does the same, as if he’s fighting an invisible enemy. He screams again, loud and full of agony as if he is being stabbed.

“Al-” his next scream ends in a sob, and as he rolls over to lie on his back, you see his eyes wide open, tears running rivers over the bridge of his nose and down the curve of his cheek “Alpha, love, what’s wrong?!”

Alpha squeezes his eyes shut, his sobs making his whole body shake and his chest shudder as his head lolls side to side over the mattress. He covers his face with his hand, whimpering and crying nonstop, his words muffled by his palms and distorted by his hitching breaths.

You can manage “m’sorry, so sorry-”, “-all dead-”, “-forced me to-” as you sit on your haunches, placing a hand on his chest that is damp with cold sweat. Your free hand goes to pet his hair with light, soothing strokes.

“Love? You had a nightmare. Can you hear me? Y-you’re safe.”

Alpha’s breathing is ragged, and he drags his hands down his face; you can see his eyes, wild and lost, eyelashes wet with tears that spill down his face. His voice comes from between his fingers, small and terrified.

“-said we were betrayed, we had to follow orders, I never wanted to-”

You gently push his hands to the side, cupping his face instead and looking deep in the brown eyes that dart back and forth. As scared as you are, you manage to speak in a firm, mostly collected tone.

“Alpha, you’re safe. You’re with me. I got you. Hm? I got you.”

Alpha looks up to you, his teeth chattering and lower lip trembling. His entire face is wound in utter despair.

“…it was all my fault.” he breathes it out as if it’s a single word strung together, sucking in a harsh breath “their blood’s on my hands” more tears spill from his eyes as he squints in pain “I can still hear their screams…!”

You have questions, hundreds of them, but you know better than asking them now. Instead, you cup Alpha’s face more firmly, leaning closer so that he has no choice but to look at you and hopefully be brought back into reality.

“It wasn’t your fault. You did your best. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, I didn’t, I should’ve been faster, I should-”

“Shh…” you press your forehead to Alpha’s “Breathe. Just breathe, Alpha.”

“They needed me, and I-”

“I know.” you say reassuringly “I know. Breathe.”

You don’t know. Not really. You had noticed the hint of blue lines that tinged his armor under the noticeably fresh coat of dark silver the day you two first met. The way it resembled a mandalorian’s, but the helmet was unmistakably a clone trooper’s, and the black shirt he wore under it actually had the republic’s crest on it.

It wasn’t that difficult to do the math and realize he was probably a clone trooper of the fallen Republic, which makes him a deserter and a traitor to the Empire.

Alpha is slowly becoming less frantic and agitated, his screaming ceasing and turning into a long wail that ends in more desperate sobs, his teeth grinding and his hands trembling over his chest.

“I never asked for any of that- I never-”

“Shh… I know…” you lean down over Alpha, covering his upper body with yours like a blanket, feeling the way his chest heaves for air over and over as you keep your forehead pressed to his “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

The two of you stay like this for a long time, and after what feels like an eternity, Alpha’s breathing starts slowing down, his back no longer tensed up in an attempt to arch off the bed sinking back down on your bed. He is still shivering, beads of sweat glistening on his face.

And then his hands reach up to the small of your back, hugging you tight enough to almost push all air out of your lungs. He shifts his head to the side, pressing his cheek to yours and sighing heavily.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles quietly “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this… I must’ve scared you to death…”

“No, no.” you whisper just as quietly “I’m glad I was here to help you through it.”

Alpha sighs again, hums to then gently roll the two of you on the side, keeping you close still. He looks exhausted, but at least he doesn’t seem to be panicking anymore. His eyes are weary, puffy and red, and his face is flushed, hair messily plastered to his forehead. Th sight of him makes your heart clench painfully in your chest.

“Do you always have those?” you ask in a hushed tone, tracing his jaw with your finger “Every night?”

Alpha purses his lips, swallowing down.

“Not every night, no. But with more… frequency than I’d like.”

“Do you wanna talk about-”

“No.” he cuts you off sharply to then soften his tone “Not now. M’sorry, I still need… time, I guess.”

“Hey, don’t apologize.” you brush his hair off his forehead, running your fingers through his hair “Is there anything I can do for you? Hmm? To help you with this?”

Alpha seems pensive for a moment, and he looks up, indicating your hand caressing his head.

“This is a good start.” he pulls you even closer, pressing you flush to his body “This, too.”

You chuckle, stifling a sob. Alpha’s relaxed expression shifts into a distressed one as he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Oh, no, no, don’t cry, cyare.” He kisses your cheek, reaching for your nape “What’s the matter?”

You sniffle, shaking your head.

“Nothing, nothing, I just…” you snuggle against the crook of his neck “Just wanna make you happy, Alpha.”

Alpha presses a kiss to the top of your head, his whole body loosening up with a long exhale of his.

“You already do. More than I ever thought I could deserve to be.”

[namfine]

Payment in Full

⫸ pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

⫸ word count: 3k

⫸ summary: After rescuing a strange man from being attacked by Robo-bots, the price you demand as payment is one he is all too eager to pay.  

⫸ tags: 18+, smut, choking, spanking, deep throating, pounding, oral sex (fem and male receiving), foreplay, safe sex, rough sex, one night stand, light dirty talk

⫸ a/n: Whattup, Admin Zesty here! For my first post I wanted to delve into one of my favorite aesthetics with one of my favorite people~ I hope you all enjoy it!

- ☆.｡.:* Zesty .｡.:*☆

“We don’t have to do this, y’know.” The man’s lips brushed your ear, making coherent thought nearly impossible. You were standing in a dimly lit room, sparsely furnished save for a simple old bed and decrepit dresser. The only light came from three old wax candles scattered throughout the room, and the exposed window on the western side that boasted quite a stunning view of the skyline. It could almost be deemed beautiful from this distance. Namjoon (or at least that’s what the man said his name was) had wrapped himself around you from behind and was lathering your neck with lazy, gentle kisses.

“I want to.” You responded, twisting yourself around so that you were facing him, hands spread on his wide chest. You ran them over his toned arms, careful to avoid his wounds, before wrapping your arms around his neck. Arching your back and balancing on your tippy toes, you reached to cover his mouth with your own.

Namjoon responded with equal fervor, chasing your lips like a swimmer to oxygen. Before you knew it, he deepened the kiss and you found yourself clawing at his clothes, his hands roaming over your body to cup your ass, wanting, needing. You were aching to feel something, anything, other than the familiar worry and frequent despair that clouded your senses on a day to day basis. Everyone’s senses. It was, after all, a rough time to be alive

A terrifying time and yet, here you were in some mystery man’s hovel seeking the only distraction from the world you could still afford - meaningless sex with a stranger. Well, kind of a stranger. You did save his life after all. He owed you one.

And it seemed he was eager to pay.

“Condoms?” You asked. Babies were out of the question. You could barely feed yourself.

Namjoon nodded and pulled a small foil package from the beaten down dresser. “Covered.”

You were pushing him now, herding him towards the old mattress on the ground with only a stringy old comforter and some worn pillows. When Namjoon’s legs hit the bed he crumpled back, pulling you down to straddle him. Your heads bumped in the process, and you let out a pain filled groan. Namjoon broke the kiss to pull back and rub his forehead, letting out a soft “Ow.” You barked out a laugh and sat back on his thighs, looking down at his smug grin. .

“So, Y/N,” He began, testing your name on his tongue. He propped himself up on his elbows so that he was closer to your face. “Thanks for the help back there. I literally didn’t think I would make it out of there alive.”

He wouldn’t have. You knew this.

He tenderly touched a bruise that was forming on his jaw. “Damn police bots have really gotten high tech these da-- shit!” He hissed, pushing too strongly on the wound. You grinned back down at him and his eyes flicked back up to meet yours. “So, you do this often?”

He smiled at his pick up line and you felt your heart melt. You were honestly just happy to be getting some dick and couldn’t afford to be picky, but goddamn did you get lucky. He was beautiful.

You smiled before reaching out a hand and tracing the lines of his jaw, careful to avoid the bruises he had gotten from the bots before you arrived. “Definitely not. Haven’t come across many viable options in the apocalypse. Definitely not any as handsome as you.”

Before you could react, his brow crinkled, revealing a sly smile, and he flipped you both over so that he was covering you with his body. You barely got out a surprised yelp before he dropped down to give you a tender kiss. You opened your mouth, instinctively deepening the kiss and granting him access to your tongue before quickly nipping on his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. Payment for the flip. Namjoon groaned into your mouth and ground his pelvis down onto yours, gently rolling his hips into you. “Want to play dirty, huh? I’m gonna need you to calm down, little girl.”

You rolled your eyes as you moved to reach for his shoulders, aiming to push him off and regain control.

“Ah, ah.” Namjoon swatted your hands away, using the weight of his body to pin you to the bed. “I think you’ve been bossy enough this evening.”

You wiggled your body beneath him, but Namjoon continuously ground himself down into you, creating a rhythmic pace that had your thighs clenching together and your pussy pulsating. You could feel the thick form of his cock pressing into your pelvis, already hard, as he struggled to control your movements and keep up the pace. He leaned down to press firm kisses down your neck, your collarbone. One of his massive hands slid up your body and gripped your clothed breast. He massaged it roughly between his fingers, and you lurched up into his touch, loving the feeling of another person’s hands on your body for what felt like the first time in forever.

Namjoon continued his assault on your neck and breast as his other hand worked to open the buttons on your shirt. In a matter of seconds, he had undone them all with surprisingly deft fingers. He finally loosened his hold and lifted his body enough for you to scoot out from under him and sit up. It was a joint effort but in a few minutes, there you both sat, naked save for your underwear.

Namjoon’s fingers traced the lines of your body, his eyes soaking it all in. You had no clue how you looked, fresh from a street fight and months of malnourishment. Your sensitivities, your scars, your blemishes. He observed them all and didn’t flinch.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip bone. He took it all in - accepted it.

Your eyes soaked him in as well, admiring the lithe muscles of his body and the marks from his earlier tussle. He looked relatively unharmed save for some abdominal and facial bruising, and a few scratches that you made a mental note to clean later. Honestly, he was the picture of the perfect male physique. You felt yourself grow wetter.

The desperation from earlier seemed to have been released from both of you as Namjoon crawled across the mattress, taking your face in his hands and pulling you in for a surprisingly tender kiss. His lips were slightly chapped and there was a bit of swelling on the lower one from a punch, but you didn’t mind. You melted into his embrace, happy, safe. He laid you back down on the mattress and placed gentle kisses down your body, pausing at your breasts. He took each one into his warm mouth,  paying special attention to each nipple. He tugged gently with his teeth before swirling his tongue around the sensitive tip. You groaned at the sensation, fingers curling into the dirty comforter. You could feel his smile at your response and he proceeded down your body, hands quickly replacing his mouth.

Namjoon peeled your soaked panties off your form and when his lips met your soaked pussy, you could have screamed. Could have, but didn’t, catching yourself as you remembered that this was not a safe place. You were sure the bots were still searching the city for you both and these were desperate times. People were eager to turn each other in for some extra cash. Better no one knew you were there at all.

The thoughts were quickly brandished from  your mind as Namjoon licked up your slit and moved to your clit. Your hand found purchase in his shaggy hair and you tugged, a breathy moan escaping your lips. Namjoon took the sensitive nub into his mouth, sucking and pulling while one hand still worked your breast. He  growled at the pressure on his hair as you hold tightened and resumed his assault on your soaked pussy, plunging his tongue in and out of your hole.

You were on the brink, ready to explode and Namjoon intended to give you just that. He increased the pace, bringing a hand to massage your clit and in a few second flat you felt the pressure building.

“Namjoon, I- I’m going to-” You gasped, writhing beneath him.

He continued the assault and you boiled over, your orgasm wracking through your body in waves. Namjoon worked you through it, gently massaging your clit and softening the plunges until you were finished.

He pulled back and you shivered at the lack of contact. You looked down to find him staring intently at you, head between your legs, your juices on his lips.

What a pretty sight.

How did I get so lucky?

Namjoon didn’t move and finally curiosity got the better of you. “What is it?”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your mound, running his hands up your thighs. “I just, I want to remember this moment. Remember you.”

“Oh, pretty boy, you’re not gonna have any trouble remembering me.” With that you released your grip on his hair and sat up, edging yourself lower on the bed. You pushed Namjoon gently, your intent obvious, and he rolled himself onto his back. The thick curve of his cock was visible through his briefs and it was all you could do not to grab it right then.

Leaning over him you kissed his pelvic bone, giving it a sharp nip that extracted the most delightful gasp from your victim. Your hands massaged circles onto his chest working lower and lower before finally allowing yourself to palm his cock through his underwear.

“Oh, god,” Namjoon groaned, hips flexing upward, his head falling back against the wall. “That feels amazing.”

“It’s about to get even better,”  you promised, pulling at the band of his underwear. You tugged it down his massive thighs, letting his cock spring free. It was an impressive length, nothing extraordinary, but it was beautiful, just like the rest of him. You ran your fingers over it gently, teasing him. Namjoon groaned when you finally took him into your hands and gave him a few short pumps, before loosening your hold and working him with your hands, feeling him growing firmer and larger beneath your grip.

“I think . . . this is . . . the best thing . . . that has ever happened to me.” Namjoon panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as you worked your hands up and down his cock. “I should get arrested more often.”

Well, if he liked that. . .

The second you started pressing soft kisses to his throbbing cock, you knew you had died and gone to heaven. The noises that Namjoon made were some of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard. He was trying to keep quiet, trying to muffle his little groans but the few that got through made you crave nothing more than the feeling of him filling you to the brim. Knowing you had elicited such groans and soft pants from such a strong man- god damn.

You took his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip, before slowly taking him further. In a few short minutes you had him clawing at your hair, pawing at the mattress, as he struggled to control his natural instinct to thrust up into you.

Good thing you were here to break that instinct.

You opened your mouth further, ignoring your gag reflex, and took him even deeper until you felt him hit the back of your throat.

“Jesus c-christ. How d-did you . . . ?” Namjoon stutterd.

You worked him in and out of your mouth, increasing your pace and you felt him tremble below you, losing control.

“Fuck this,” Namjoon reached out and gripped your head, holding it into place as he began to thrust eagerly into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. He let out a few breathy groans as he increased his pace, your fingernails digging into his thighs, eyes watering, but focusing on hollowing your cheeks to give him the best experience.

You could feel Namjoon growing close as his pace began to sputter out, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper when abruptly- he pulled out.

“That’s enough of that,” Namjoon pushed you over roughly so that you lay on your belly. He gripped your ass, raising it into the air and took a second to admire the view, running his long fingers around your curves and down your slit before inserting two into your entrance and curling them inside. You moaned. “When I cum, it’s going to be inside you.”

He took his time, slowly plunging his fingers in and out of you with one hand and stroking his length in the other. When he was ready he wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up so that your back was flush against his chest, his cock the only thing between you. You had no clue where he pulled it from but you heard the unwrapping of the condom and in a few seconds, he was ready.

“I’m about to fuck you so hard, baby girl,” he whispered hoarsely into your ear. “But you better promise to be a good, quiet girl for me. Can’t have you bringing the cops down on us again.”  

Namjoon released one hand to line himself up with your entrance and his other hand massaged smooth circles into your abdomen. His breath, hot on your neck. You tried to back into him, to force him to work faster but all that earned you was a chastising noise and a harsh smack on your ass.

“Ah, ah,” Namjoon said. “I haven’t heard your promise yet.”

“Namjoon . .. . “ You groaned, grinding your ass back onto him. You could feel his dick. It was literally right there. But it wasn’t where you needed it to be.

“Say it.” Namjoon demanded, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “Say it and I’ll give you what you want, baby girl.”

“I promise,” you breathed, not able to fully eliminate the whining in your tone. “I promise to be quiet.”

Namjoon released your earlobe and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, rolling his hips into your ass again so you could once again feel how hard and ready he was for you, before giving you another harsh smack on the ass. “You promise to be quiet, what?”

“I promise to be quiet for you, Daddy.”

He groaned at the pet name. “That’s a good little slut.”

When Namjoon finally pushed into you it was all you could do not to scream. If there was any survival instinct left in your brain at that moment, Namjoon possessed it as his hand immediately reached up to cover your mouth. Screaming, would mean death and thank god one of you remembered that. His other hand traced back up the front of your body, to find your neck, and he squeezed down ever so slightly, choking just a bit of air out of your lungs before he began to move. Pulling out slightly, and gently moving back in. Testing the waters.

God, did he feel good.

“You like that, dirty little girl? You like the way I feel inside you?” His voice was hoarse in your ear as he struggled to move slowly. His natural instinct was to pound into you until he reached completion but- patience, he felt, was one of his best virtues.

You nodded, grinding back onto him, eager for more. The fill of him inside you was so perfect, so complete, like a piece of you was missing this entire time.  Namjoon, getting the message, pulled out and this time slammed back into you harshly, tightening the hold on your throat.

“You like that? You like the way I destroy your pussy?” He grunted, setting a relentless pace, smacking in and out of you creating the lewdest of noises. The only thing keeping you upright at this point was the hand around your neck, choking the air from your lungs. Each thrust was punctuated by a harsh grunt from Namjoon that had you quivering, chasing your next release.

Namjoon tightened his hold around your neck as his pace began to get sporadic and released his hand on your mouth so that he could rub frantic circles onto your clit, helping you along. You whispered his name like a prayer as he pounded into you, chasing his release but still working his finger for yours.

When you came, you came hard, your pussy clenching around his dick furthering his pleasure, milking him thoroughly. You were still in the blinding throes of orgasm when you felt him clamp down on your shoulder,  thrusting even deeper inside you and crumpling over your body, throwing you on to your hands and knees as he found release deep inside you, his body shuddering with each wave. He groaned through his orgasm, thrusting even deeper with each pulse.

When he was spent, he rolled you both onto your sides, slowly pulling out but holding you close to his chest. For a few minutes, you both lay there in silence, watching the hover cars zoom around the skyline, the city awake despite the late hour.

It was Namjoon who broke the silence first.

“I’m happy that you got to me before those cops finished me off.”

You turned to nuzzle into his neck, soaking in his scent. You knew perfectly well what tomorrow would bring. How you would leave him behind to continue your hunt for survival. It was better to have as few connections in this world as possible, you had learned. Saved you a whole lot of heartache. but for now, for now you were happy just to have found another person on this god forsaken planet that sought a human connection as much as you.

“Me too.”

[lu-undy]

Chapter 72 - SBT

Here it is!

"Lu'...?"

"Oui?"

"Kiss me, please." 

"Avec plaisir." 

[With pleasure.]

As Lucien met his lover's demand, Mundy squeezed what he couldn't let go of. 

"Mmh… Will you ever let go of my derrière?"

"Nah, 's too squishy." 

"Squishy?" 

"Yeah it comes nicely under my palms." Mundy explained. "You don't like it?" 

"On the contrary, I love the attention there but I am surprised."

"Why?" 

"Because rarely have I been complimented on it. People find it rather flat and boring."

"Flat and borin'? Flat and - bloody hell, are people blind or what?!" Mundy squeezed harder. "This is not flat and borin', this is perfect, it fits entirely in my hands and I can squish it! What more do people want?"

Lucien chuckled. 

"I do not know, but I am delighted that you find it to your liking." 

"I love it, it's part of you, and it's bloody soft… Let me just…"

Mundy kissed Lucien who was above him and rolled him to be the one on top. His mouth travelled down. Yes, that salt and pepper chest hair had been screaming for him since Lucien had first removed his shirt. Now was the time to kiss it all, and feel it against his mouth.

"Oh… Mundy…" 

The Aussie took his time. He savoured Lucien's skin like a fancy delicacy. The man was foreign, he had literally come from the other side of the planet and his skin was more pale than Mundy. He loved it. He looked like he was made of porcelain next to him… 

Mundy noticed that contrary to him, Lucien didn't have a trail of hair between his chest and down below. His stomach was bare and soft. The Aussie kissed it and bit it.

"Awh -!"

Lucien moaned and brushed Mundy's hair through his fingers. 

"M-Mundy, mon amour?" 

"Yeah?" Mundy raised his head. 

"Are you sure you want to proceed?" 

"Can't really leave you like this, eh?" Mundy nodded to what he would come to. 

"Of course you can. You always have the choice, Mundy. As much as you don't want to force me to do anything, I don't want you to feel like you have to. You never have to." 

"Thanks luv', but uh…" 

"But what?" 

"I… I think I might uh…"

Lucien frowned and Mundy blushed. He lowered his head and laid it on Lucien's stomach. 

"I want you�� Still…"

Lucien smiled. 

"I am glad to hear it, proceed at your leisure then, mon loup."

[My wolf.]

Mundy turned to kiss Lucien's stomach countless times and again, he liked the fact that it didn't have hair, it made it very smooth. He put his hands left and right on Lucien's hips and gently turned him. 

"Oh…?" Lucien let Mundy do and was now laying on his belly. 

"Now, that's a sight…" Mundy put his hands again on that part of Lucien he liked particularly. Lucien turned his head and smiled. Mundy cupped the beautiful pale softness and massaged it. 

"Mmh… Mundy… Your hands are fantastic…" Lucien laid his face down on the pillow and closed his eyes. 

"Not as much as what I'm seein' right now." 

Lucien smiled and moaned. Mundy's hands felt heavenly, he would have to ask him to do a whole-body massage later and - 

"Oh! Mon Dieu…!" 

Mundy yielded to what he had wanted to do. He was kissing and nipping at the soft porcelain with closed eyes. He moaned at the taste of it and let his teeth dig in slightly. 

"Mundy…!" Lucien could feel Mundy's sharp and pointy canines stinging in the most delicious manner. 

"Gosh, I'd eat you as you are right now…" 

Lucien rolled his eyes in bliss and melted deeper in the mattress and the pillow. Mundy pushed Lucien's legs open before laying on his stomach between them and savouring the soft and delicate skin. 

Lucien sang his pleasure in ahs and ohs as he felt the kisses and marks of affection get closer to a vulnerability of his. 

"Ah! Ooh! Mundy! Mon Dieu…!"

Lucien clawed his hand into the pillow as he felt something slick exploring his behind, left and right, lazily painting him with Mundy's love. The Aussie moaned harder. He just loved Lucien's behind way too much. Yes, it wasn't big or particularly round but it didn't matter. It was soft, delicious and belonged to the man singing pleasure and opening his legs more… 

"You're bloody beautiful…" 

"Awh-!"

Mundy let his tongue and teeth bite and lick. He closed his eyes and let his lust guide him. He moved slowly, lapping and kissing at times until he did what Lucien had been anticipating. He felt Mundy's strong hands pull him apart from the outside and it had the same effect on the inside. He melted in a groan and Mundy's tongue now narrowed down to its target, slowly but surely. 

The first lick sent Lucien on orbit. He closed his eyes and focused on staying alive as Mundy treated him like a priceless delicacy. The Frenchman didn't have the strength to moan, his eyes were rolled up in pure blissful agony while Mundy was taking his time appreciating what he had spent more than a year dreaming about.

It was slow, slick and mellow, but absolutely not methodical in any way. Mundy was just enjoying himself and soon, Lucien's hips started rolling on the bed, on their own, slowly. Mundy smiled. 

He continued treating Lucien with his mouth while slipping a hand where the Frenchman needed it. He hissed. The feeling of foreign fingers there was delicious and Gosh was Mundy holding him firmly…!

"Aargh… Mundy…" 

Lucien sounded exhausted. In fact, he was just too deep in his lust and pleasure to be able to process anything else. His brain had turned to jelly and in the state he was, he would probably not know his own name if someone had asked. 

Mundy's hands moved in rhythm with his tongue and Lucien's hips kept on rolling out of reflex. The Frenchman bit the pillow to smother his moans which were rising in volume. He was grinding in Mundy's hand, desperately chasing his pleasure but still trying to act less desperate than he was. 

"Alright, darl', turn to me now…" 

Mundy's hands went to Lucien's hips and rolled him on his back. He now saw Lucien's impatience and smiled. Contrary to him, the Frenchman kept it shaved down there, not completely, but reasonably. Mundy loved it, he saw everything clearly was hungry for all of it. His mouth started watering at the sight. 

"Gosh…" 

He pushed Lucien's masculinity aside and started playing with what was below. His lips nipped, kissed and ever so gently, he licked, before sucking shyly.

"Ooh… Mundy… Oui, oui, oui…" 

Lucien opened his legs wider and seeing how much he liked it, Mundy stayed a bit longer. In any case, the taste was marvelous and he enjoyed himself there. But soon, the Aussie moved onto what Lucien's body had been silently screaming with all its might. He took it in his palm and gently stroked it. 

"Oorh… Oui…" 

Lucien's head rolled back in the pillow and he grasped the bed sheets left and right.

"Been a long time since last time?"

"Ah… Oui…"

"Even on your own?" Mundy asked and there was a bit of silence before he got an answer. 

"Oui… Ugh… I forgot how satisfying it could be… Even just with your hands…"

"Yeah… But I don't just want to use my hands on you, darl'..."

"Wha-Ah!" Lucien burst out and his eyes snapped open. He looked down and what he saw made him almost black-out. The feeling of Mundy working on him was divine. He gently rolled his hips in rhythm with Mundy's head moving up and down his length. 

"Oh mon Dieu… Oui… Ah…" Lucien's hands slid down to grasp Mundy's hair. 

Mundy closed his eyes and did his best to keep his canines out of the way. He moaned, growled from the bottom of his throat and Lucien enjoyed the low vibrations. It added to the up and down motion, the slickness and the warmth, the smoothness… 

"Arh… O-oui… Mundy… Oorh… I… I am getting close… Gently, gently, please…" 

Mundy slowed down and let his tongue do the work. Lucien was only slightly slimmer than himself but God was the taste addictive. Mundy never wanted to stop. Like everything else on his body, Lucien's member was perfect. Perfect shape, perfect size, perfect taste… and perfect heat. 

Mundy could feel it, Lucien picked up the pace with his hips and as he looked up, the Frenchman had screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip to focus on this almost new feeling down there.

"M-Mundy, hah, ah, Argh!"

Everything contracted along his body. His neck, his chest, all his abs down to his length which throbbed on its own. Mundy took as much as he could of it and rolled his eyes up when his tongue was met with what Lucien's body had been hiding secretly all along. 

The Frenchman was exhausted and tried to catch his breath, panting. He kept his eyes closed. It asked for too much energy to open them. Mundy stayed down there and slowly continued his rhythm. 

"Ah… Mundy… It's sensitive… Please…" 

Lucien opened his eyes and looked down. Mundy pulled back and gulped down. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and Lucien's head fell back on the pillow. That sight he had never imagined and it punched him so violently that he shut his eyes again. 

"Mon Dieu…"

Mundy gave it a few kisses and slid back up in the bed to hold Lucien and bring him comfort. 

"Are you alright, luv'?"

"Oui… I think…"

Mundy kissed him on his stingy cheeks, down in his neck. He ravished kisses on him and caressed his body to help soothe it. 

"You're beautiful… you're the most… beautiful bloke… Ever… You're… Amazin'... You feel amazin' and you taste amazin'... I love you…"

Mundy spoke between two kisses and in the end, Lucien wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a French kiss. It was slow, languid and tired, far from the seductive and efficient way that Lucien had used before. Mundy adored it, it just showed how deep Lucien had fallen, how naked he was now. He reciprocated in the same slow, liberated fashion, both moaning into each other's mouths.

"Gosh you're perfect…"

"Mmh… You are not bad yourself, mon loup…"

[My wolf]

"Can't get enough of you… Want you more…" Mundy's arms laced around Lucien and hugged him strongly. 

Lucien answered with a moan and Mundy felt that he was smiling through his kiss. The Frenchman wrapped his legs around the Aussie on top of him and pulled him flush against him. 

"I want this night with you to never end, Mundy…" 

"Mmh… Same…" 

Feeling the Frenchman hang on to him like a desperate koala made Mundy smile. How the hell could a man that sexy hold on to him that adamantly? 

"You're too beautiful… You're too beautiful… Gosh… I might never stop…" 

"I don't see an issue with that… Don't stop if that's what you want…" 

If not for their tired bodies, they would have carried on straight away, but both needed a bit of a break. Mundy ended up burying his head deep in Lucien's neck, covered by his long hair, and the Frenchman had wrapped all his limbs on him.

"Lu'...?" 

"Hm?" 

"Love ya."

"I love you too, mon loup."

"It's been such a long time…" Mundy said, his voice muffled slightly. 

"Since the last time you did this?" Lucien asked. 

"Yeah and… Since it felt that good. I had forgotten it could feel that way."

"Likewise. Especially with a man." Lucien answered, brushing Mundy's back. 

"I think I never felt that good, even with a sheila." 

"Thank you." Lucien took the compliment. "But I can do much better than just what I did today." 

Mundy blushed and his ears went hot. 

"Oh Gosh… Please, next time, just… Just do it, whatever it is."

"I have to ask you a few things first, Mundy."

"Go ahead." 

"Are you comfortable being on the receiving end?" 

"I mean yeah, today felt amazin'."

"That is not what I meant, give me your ear…"

Lucien whispered his question, worded differently, and Mundy's eyes snapped wide. 

"Uh… Well… I mean… we can try if that's what you like… For the few times I did it with a bloke, I was the one who was uh… Y'know, givin' it…"

"Ah, I see."

"What about you?"

"Likewise."

"Oh, ok… Well, how are we gonna do it then?" 

Lucien chuckled.

"I could let you have your way with me." He answered.

"Nah, luv', if you're not used to it or you don't like it, I don't want you to do that."

"And what if… Just for the sake of this conversation, hm? What if… I wanted you to have your way with me?" Lucien asked in a voice so seductive, Mundy felt it everywhere in his body. 

"Ooh, Lu'... Your voice…" He screwed his eyes shut. "Your bloody voice…" He bit Lucien's neck. 

"Mmh… What would you say to that, hm? You would be my first and only." Lucien went on whispering. "The first and only man I would accept to do whatever you want, and be whatever you want me to be…"

Mundy's hands twitched on their own. 

"Gosh, Lu'..." He dug his fingers in his lover. "D-don't talk to me like that… Don't whisper in my ear, not with that voice…"

"And what if I do, hm? What will happen if I tell you that you, Mundy Turner, will have the pleasure and exclusive privilege to have me, Lucien de Beauregard, the way that you can't even dream of…?" 

Mundy clenched his jaw and his hips jolted against his will. 

"Bugger, I'd bloody take you…" 

Lucien snickered and adjusted the blanket over Mundy and him.

"Mmh… Someone likes the idea, hm?"

"Yeah… Orh, God…" Mundy kissed Lucien's neck, he needed his lover more than ever to process what he just heard. "But what about you, love? W-would you really do that? You don't have to, we can think about it later." 

"It is all thought about, Mundy. I never let myself be the one who is receiving because I have always distrusted people greatly. I am not saying that the idea does not scare me a little, but I think that I can do it with you. You are extremely gentle and considerate. I know that you will do your best to put me at ease." 

"Course I will. I'll uh… It's not somethin' I have done before but… I'll take my time with you, I'll prepare you, and get all comfy and we'll go at your rhythm, ok?" Mundy’s hands brushed and caressed the skin of the delicious man below him.

"Mmh…" Lucien revelled in what he heard. "It sounds like you will indeed treat me more than you will treat yourself, Mundy…?" 

"Yeah… Love you more than I love myself… Love you more than anythin' else…" 

"I will remember these words, mon amour." 

"Same. Anythin' you say, anythin' you do… It's just so beautiful…" 

"Embrasse-moi." 

"What, sorry love?" 

Mundy looked up and saw Lucien pouting to give him his lips. 

"Oh, yeah, sure…" 

-- The next day --

"Mmh… Pearl… Let me sleep…"

The fluff on his face continued to brush Mundy's rough cheeks. 

"Pearl, please… Go and annoy your Papa instead…" 

"The Papa is the one annoying you, Sleeping Beauty." 

"What?" Mundy opened his eyes and realised Lucien was brushing a lock of his long hair on Mundy's cheeks. It wasn't Perle. "Oh… Well at least I get called a Beauty, eh?" 

They both exchanged a chuckle and a kiss. 

"Bonjour, mon amour."

[Good morning, my love.]

"Gosh…!" Mundy wrapped his arms around Lucien and hugged him tightly as he stretched his legs under the blanket. "Feels so good to wake up with you."

"Someone is very cuddly in the morning…!" Lucien found himself tightly squeezed between Mundy's arms. 

"You'd do the same if you could hug you…" 

"Pff, Mundy…" Lucien reciprocated the hug and the morning started lazily, under the blanket, both refusing to leave the other's arms. 

"Love you, darl'." 

"So do I…"

They stayed under the blanket, sheltered from the outside world and its absurd rules and customs. For now, they were on a planet of their own, warm and soft. 

"Oh… I slept without my pyjamas…?" Lucien realised that his skin was naked and brushing against Mundy's. 

"Who needs that nonsense anyway?"

"What if I am cold?"

"Tell me and I'll hold you tighter." 

Lucien smiled and buried his head against Mundy's chest, curling in a ball. 

"Y'alright, luv'?" 

"I am trying to understand how lucky I am. But I can't." 

"Don't bang your head up against the wall for that, eh. Just… Just go with it." 

"Oui, I shall." 

They cuddled up against each other and the kisses and moans diffused in the air. 

"Any plans for today?" 

"Non, not exactly. What about you?" 

"Just want to stay with you. Oh, actually, something I wanted to ask you." 

"Oui?" 

"D'you plan to tell the truth to other people?" 

"I don't think so, so far, but I might. Why?" 

"Could tell Victoria. She was really sad when you passed. Saw her sometimes. Wearing all black all the time. And what she said at the funeral…"

"Oui, Victoria has quite the character. She reminds me of myself when I was younger." Lucien said.

"How?" Mundy started massaging Lucien's head, through his long hair. 

"She feels like she has no ties, no family, nothing to lose. So she isn't afraid to take risks, speak her mind freely, even though she knows it might hurt."

"You were like that when you were younger?" 

"A bit, oui." 

"Wow… I wouldn't have imagined."

"But you are right, mon loup, we should tell her the truth. If she indeed saw me like a father figure, and after everything she did for me, I owe her as much."

"Yeah, even to me." 

"What did she do to you?" Lucien asked, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you knew her well." 

"Well, not better than you, but uh… Back a long time ago now, I went to get some food from there and uh… She said she could see that I liked you and then… Pff, you're gonna laugh…"

"Tell me, then, please…"

"She said that you liked me." 

"Understatement of the century." Lucien answered. "What did you say to her?"

"Uh, not much, I just… I felt a bit embarrassed that she could see through me like that." Mundy answered.

"Indeed. She has an incredible intuition, even more so for a woman." 

"What d'you mean?"

"Women are often excellent judges of character, I find. Victoria is no exception, on the contrary, she is gifted in that. I remember the first few conversations with her. I did not really know what to make of her but when I learnt that she was an orphan, it all started to make sense." 

"Hm."

"I think she shared the insolent mistress that we have lived with for too long."

"What?" Mundy asked, confused.

"She was lonely and she spotted me and my solitude in the blink of an eye. Maybe it isn't something that we shared, Mundy."

"What d'you mean?" 

"Maybe we all have our own Solitude, as we do our own shadow. And perhaps she only disappears when she meets another Solitude, from someone else." Lucien gently scratched Mundy's skin.

"Maybe, yeah. But you're right. Solitude's a mean woman. She stays and sticks, it's awful."

"Oui, she stays with you like a devilishly jealous mistress. She won't allow you to see anyone else, because she is way too attached to you, and threatens you with a very bad time if you did."

"But why do we believe her? It's obviously wrong, right? I mean, it's exactly through meetin' people that we get rid of her and stuff. If we meet people, she can threaten us all she wants, we're now with other folks and she can suck it up." 

"Oui, you are right. And yet, we both believed her for a decade. Do you know why?" 

"No?"

"Because of the fear. We were in an already seriously bad condition and she was our only solace. If we gave up on her, then God only knows what would happen. But if we stayed with her, at least we knew with what sauce we would be eaten."

"What?!" Mundy exclaimed, surprised by the odd choice of words. 

"It is an expression in French, don't you have it in English? To know with what sauce we will be eaten?"

Mundy burst out in his hoarse, honest laughter. 

"You're so weird, luv', no, we don't have that nonsense! That's so French of you to have an expression with sauces and eating… Ah, c'mere, you made me hungry…" Mundy dived in Lucien's neck. 

"Can I hope to get out of bed sometime before tomorrow?" Lucien asked. 

"Nah, you stay here and let me catch up with all these years…"

"Years? It's only been a year and a bit more, Mundy." 

The Aussie hugged his lover and kissed him softly on his neck, his ear and now his cheek. He stopped and looked the light blue eyes straight.

"Nah, it's been my whole life that I've been waitin' for you." 

[etn-story-archive]

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 3: Awkward is the Word of the Day

.

“H-hey Howard. Our friend Nomi came by and we wanted you to come over and, uh, try out that new online version of Grave Puncher! You said the graphics were the cheese, so Nomi wants to play with us!" In a quick and desperate attempt for Howard not to raise any questions, Randy looped an arm around Nomi's neck and pulled him closer with a large nervous grin. 

Of course, Nomi had to bite back the instinct to pull away, twist his arm behind his back and pin him to the ground like he had been taught to. He felt that they looked extremely stupid like this.

Fortunately, Howard had gotten the hint.

"Oh—yeah! I completely forgot! Heidi, I'm gonna go. Have fun cleaning the house while I bounce!"

Without waiting for her response, the three dashed out of the house in a blur while Heidi threw a tantrum.

...

"Alright Cunningham, who is this guy?"

The three slowed to a walk. Randy panted, trying to catch his breath as he replied in between inhales and exhales.

"It's...a really long...story...wait...my...room."

As they quietly walked to Randy's house, Howard stole glances at the red haired teen. He had to admit, the guy was pretty damn handsome.

Well, maybe not like Cunningham—

There he was again, thinking those strange, forbidden thoughts. He couldn't help it though. Love was a strange, morbid thing that blinded those with its sweet alluring song. And this was certainly no exception, as Howard found himself slowing just enough so he could stare at his friend's butt. When he looked up he realized he had been caught by their apparent new friend. His cheeks heated up, but the male simply looked away as if in deep thought.

There has never been a time where Randy was ever quiet. He was always chatting with Howard. He felt awkward, standing between the other boys, for some unknown reason, and it bugged Randy, so he decided to break the ice. 

"So, Nomi, do you play any instruments? I m-mean, besides the flute?"

Howard turned to the other male who gave him a dark look, which unsettled him.

"Yes. My father taught us that music was as important as education. I learned on my own how to play most of the common instruments like the piano, violin, guitar, clarinet, and even the drums. I know a few pieces of certain songs, but the instrument I play most commonly, as you would have guessed, is the flute." 

With that, the male pulled out the flute from his pocket and began to play the sweet, familiar melody. It created a calm, almost lazy atmosphere.

Howard felt an oddly natural sense of comfort.

Suddenly, Nomi stopped.

"Sorry. Got a little carried away." He muttered, but Randy stopped him.

"Nah dude, that was totally Bruce!!"

Howard simply nodded, still unsure of the stranger that walked with them. The redhead smiled before continuing to play the rest of the way to Randy's house.

...

As soon as Randy shut and locked the door to his room, he was almost literally mauled by Howard's questions.

"Okay Cunningham, who is this guy?!" The short chubby teen pointed at Nomi, who didn’t seem to care about what was going on.

"Howard, this is the Nomicon."

There was a moment of silence, before,

“WHAT?!”

"Yeah, it’s a long story. But apparently the Sorcerer is going to escape, which is why Nomi revealed his human persona to me and you. I guess it’s because he's going to fight the Sorcerer, while I take on Mcfist!" Randy had repeated the whole conversation between him and the human Nomicon in a single breath and was breathing heavily under his friend's stern look.

"Wow, you really are in deep now."

Randy groaned, flopping exhaustedly onto his bed and burying his face in his pillow. He screamed into it.

"Well, now that we're done with introducing each other, I'm going to meditate." With that, Nomi began to disappear into a smoky red mist before a book appeared where he had once been standing. 

"Whoa-ho ho! That is the cheese!" 

...

Time flew by and before the boys even realized it, the sun had gone down.

"Crud. Heidi is going to tell Mom that I’ve been out too late and get me grounded."

Randy barely heard his friend as he concentrated hard on the game in front of him. "Uh-huh. Have fun."

Howard grinned. "So, do you like ketchup and peanut butter sandwiches?" 

"Duh."

"Are you in a porno?"

"I made it."

"Are you gay?"

"WHAT THE JUICE!?"

Howard nearly fell backwards as Randy stood up still, staring at the computer screen. "That’s not fair! I punched that grave to bits!" Randy turned to see his friend staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Okay then...oh, hey dude, it's almost nine. You better go or Heidi is going to get you grounded again."

Howard face palmed.

...

As Randy came back upstairs after walking Howard to the front door, he found the Nomicon was back to his human form. He was meditating in the middle of his room.

"Hey Nomi, my mom's gonna be here any minute, so you better hide again."

The redhead opened one eye lazily. "Okay. I guess I've done enough for today." He stood and stretched, but was cut off by the sound of Randy's stomach rumbling. He raised a brow.

"You haven't eaten?"

"Nope. I usually just eat an apple or something. Maybe chips I guess. My mom doesn't have time to cook. And I don’t know how to cook." Randy simply shrugged.

"Well then, I guess I can make you something really quick."

...

Randy watched in awe as Nomi sliced and diced a few vegetables in less than ten seconds, cook rice in record time, and slice a small salmon fillets into perfect slices.

Randy realized he was preparing him a small dish of sushi.

Suddenly, a small plate was pushed to him. On top was six salmon rolls sprinkled with sesame seeds. Nomi leaned casually against the opposite side of the kitchen counter from Randy. He watched him expectantly, almost eager to see what Randy thought of his cooking.

Realizing this, he picked up a roll and popped it into his mouth.

It tasted...amazing! Delicious! Flavorful! There was an endless amount of words that Randy could use to describe the little salmon rolls, but didn't care to say them aloud as he happily stuffed them into his mouth, barely remembering to swallow and thank the redhead.

"Wow! Thanks dude! It's really good!"

Nomi gave him a small smile. He was internally jumping up and down with pride. He smirked.

"Your first lesson is to close your mouth when eating." He gestured to his open mouth. The purple haired teen rolled his eyes before doing as his teacher had said.

Suddenly the sound of the doorknob jiggling caught both of their attentions. Nomi was just about to turn back into his book form when the front door slammed open to reveal an exhausted looking Ms. Cunningham.

"Oh! I had no idea you were spending the night, er—Nomi!"

Instantly he relaxed and gave a respectful bow. "Y-yes, I am, if that isn't too much trouble."

"Oh none at all! Hey, how come Howard isn't here, Randy?"

"Uh, he had to go home. Heidi busted him." It wasn't a complete lie at the very least.

"Hm. That's too bad." Just then, her green eyes landed on the single roll that sat innocently on the plate in front of Randy. Without question, she picked it up and put it in her mouth.

"Mmm. You’re not a bad cook, Nomi,” said Ms. Cunningham. “Well, I'm going to bed. Randy, you two better not stay up later than twelve or I swear I'll skin you alive, mister!" Ms. Cunningham made her way to her room.

The two looked at each other, even Nomi being alarmed, before darting upstairs. Unbeknownst to them, the woman poked her head out of her room and smirked before going back inside.

...

"That was inhuman dude, inhuman!"

Nomi nodded with wide eyes. How could she have known that he had made those rolls? He shook his head.

"That was...inhuman."

Randy laughed as he pulled out a blanket, pillow, and a large mattress. Nomi raised a curious brow.

"Uh Randy, you do realize I don't need a bed, right? I can just make myself a book again."

"No! I mean, no, you don't have to, dude. You made me food, so I wanted to return the favor. And besides, sometimes Mom checks in on me at night. She'll grow suspicious if she doesn't see you here asleep." 

"Ah, I see."

Once again, Randy found himself searching in the sea of clothes for some comfortable pajamas for his teacher. He found a pair of shorts. He was about to continue searching for a shirt when Nomi stopped him.

"That's fine Randy. I usually sleep without a shirt."

"Oh. Okay." He handed Nomi the black pair of shorts.

...

Once again it was morning, and the powerful rays of the sun sliced through, hitting Randy's eyes. He groaned.

“I really need to get new curtains...”

He blinked and found that the extra mattress was gone, and only Nomi was left. He was sitting in the middle of his room...meditating.

A sly grin came upon Randy's face as he hopped to his feet with great stealth, marker in hand, but just as he was about to draw on him, Nomi spoke.

"Don't even think about it, Randy. Unless you want to be missing a few limbs."

Startled, Randy jumped and tossed the marker away. "What? I was just going to see if you were awake!"

"Well I am. Now let's get started on training."

Randy groaned. "Aw, come on Nomi, it's the weekend!"

"A ninja's duty is never not done just because it's the weekend, and besides, this will be fun. We're going to the woods to practice your stealth skills. Right now, you’re as stealthy as an elephant with four left feet."

"Hey! I have awesome stealth skills! I just haven't warmed up yet!"

"Alright then. Let's go to the woods and see just how ‘awesome’ your skills are."

"Fine."

...

The sweet scent of pine hit their noses the second they took a step into the small woods.

Randy dropped his gym bag, which was filled with bottles of water, a first aid kit, and his ninja mask. He reached inside, grabbing the said mask and briskly put it on, turning into the famous Norrisville High Ninja.

"Alright. So what are we doing first?"

In swift and quick movements, Nomi removed his casual clothing to reveal his ninja like suit. He pulled the strange black cape out of his gym bag and placed it on. The small green clip that rested on his chest glowed in the dim light of the forest. Randy was in awe.

"For one thing, we need to meditate for one hour—"

"Aw, that's so wonk, Nomicon!"

"It's necessary! You have to learn to be patient. A direct attack will only get you attacked—"

"Can you please stop using riddles? It's kind of unnecessary."

Nomi face palmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was this kid really that dumb? "Honestly Randy, are you seriously questioning me? I’m your teacher, you’re my student. I may be biologically your age, but that doesn't mean I’m a child like you. You have to listen to me. Now, I'm very patient, luckily for you. If not, I would have twisted you into a pretzel, or whatever it is you call it. So, without anymore interruptions, let us get on with the lesson, yes?"

“I’m not a child,” Randy muttered, before agreeing to let the lesson start.

They began to meditate. Sort of. Most of the time, Randy wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

"Are we done yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"What about now?"

"No."

"Now?”

"Dammit, Randy! NO!" Nomi finally stood up. "You know what? Fine. Yes, we’re done.”

“YES!”

Nomi shook his head. “Let's begin with the warm ups."

Randy grinned. “So what are we—"

Suddenly a fist flew towards Randy. He managed to dodge it just in time. He snapped his head towards his teacher, who held a sly smirk.

"Now the real fun begins."

Randy gulped. Uh-oh. "Uh, hey Nomi, w-what are we doing?"

"Warm ups. When you successfully land a punch on me, we will begin the true lesson."

Randy's eyes widened in sudden fear as a barrage of fists came flying at him. The fists barely missed their target.  Randy tried to desperately dodge, duck, and zip past each and every one of them.

"Oof!"

Randy fell on his butt. As he got punched in the stomach, he quickly got up and jumped away, barely escaping Nomi's deadly left hook. Finally, Randy boldly ducked and threw a punch, only for it to get blocked and thrown right back at his face. "Ouch!"

He looked up to see the deep concentration written all over his teacher's face.

“I have to break that concentration!”

With renewed energy, he bobbed and weaved under and over.

"You look like you're getting tired there." Randy teased. The two kept aiming and dodging punches. "Tired!?"

For a brief second, Nomi’s concentration seemed to drop so much that the left hook that was certain to have hit Randy missed and punched the tree behind him. Their noses were so close they could feel each other's heavy breathing.

Realization hit the two as Nomi had pinned Randy against the tree. It took Nomi a second too late before suddenly Randy's fist hit him hard in the chest, knocking him off balance.

"Gah!"

Nomi fell on his butt. He stared up in surprise before it melted into a smirk. 

"Well, you caught me off guard. I guess you win. Now on with—"

"Ahaha! I got you! I just punched the ninja book! Haha! Wow!"

"That maybe true, but I did get you at least a dozen times."

Instantly, Randy's boasting ceased, and a pout replaced the victorious grin upon his face. Nomi chuckled at the quick change of demeanor on his student's face.

"Shall we begin the stealth lesson, Ninja?"

The mocking tone did not go unnoticed by Randy.

He bitterly replied, "Yes."

...

"Uh, where exactly am I?" Randy had been blindfolded.

"You see, Ninja, stealth has different aspects to it. Today we're going to practice sight and hearing. You will be blocking my attacks without knowing where I'll be coming from. After you, it will be I who will be blocking your attacks. Understood?"

"Yup."

Unknown to Randy, they were standing in a small clearing hidden and surrounded by tall pine trees. Nomi smirked as he pulled out his bamboo flute. He placed his hands on each end before pulling it, causing it to extend into a long wooden staff. Oh yes, this was going to be so Bruce.

There was a rustling sound in the bushes. A pause, then the sound rejuvenated in another area. Randy's left hand shot out, ready to block the oncoming attack, only to be hit on his right side.

"Ah!"

Suddenly, a barrage of attacks came out of nowhere. He successfully blocked some of them, but most of the time he was getting smacked around like a ragdoll.

"Gah! Okay, time out! Time out!"

"There are no time outs, Cunningham. The Sorcerer is a relentless enemy and will be hell bent on killing you. Be happy that this is just training and not an actual battle."

"I don't care! Timeout!" 

Nomi huffed as he finally ceased fire. Randy removed the blindfold.

"C'mon, I know the Sorcerer is all tough and shit, but seriously, do you have to beat me with a stick?!" He gestured to the long bamboo staff in Nomi’s hand.

"Well, what would you like me to do then? Throw rocks and boulders at your head? Because if you want—"

"NO! No way! I think I prefer the stick!" He snatched the staff from Nomi's hand. "Anyway, it's my turn!"

An entire hour passed with Randy swinging and flailing the stick at the other male. With ease, Nomi dodged each slow and exhausted swing.

"I...I almost got you that time..." Randy said, panting pathetically. "Almost..."

Finally, out of pure luck, and the fact that Nomi was getting bored, the end of the bamboo staff tapped his arm rather softly. Randy collapsed onto the forest floor with Nomi hovering over him with an amused and concerned look.

"Are you okay?" He almost felt guilty for tiring him out this much. Almost.

"Y-yeah..." Randy moaned pitifully.

Nomi sighed, almost relieved. "Well, that's enough training for one day." 

"Wait, how are you not tired!?"

"I have a lot of endurance, something you human beings don’t have. Even with the ninja suit, it doesn't mean you have the endurance to go on forever. I guess we're going to have to fix that. Tomorrow we're going jogging around the entire block. Also, I'm technically a book. I don't need all the necessities you need."

"Like going to the bathroom?" Randy got up with the help of Nomi. Nomi gave him a curious look. It was obviously a question that has been on his mind for a while.

"Yes...I don't really need to go. I can hold it for...a hundred or so years."

Randy stared at him. Nomi shrugged as he picked up the gym bag, pulling out a bottle of water and tossing it to Randy, who barely managed to catch it. Nomi pulled out one for himself and began to chug it down. He wiped his mouth and let out a small sigh.

"But, there are things I still need. Like water."

Suddenly, a small rumble was heard. Both Randy and Nomi looked down at Nomi's stomach.

"And food...I don't really need it like going to the bathroom. I can go almost an entire one hundred years without a bite to eat."

"When was the last time you ate exactly?"

"Err, 1920? Yes, somewhere along that time."

"What the juice Nomi! Yeah, no shit you're hungry! C'mon, maybe Mom's home so she can make you something to eat!"

In truth, Nomi hadn't eaten since 1816, but he felt it wasn’t important to bring it up. Nomi was, however, surprised by Randy's concern for him. After all, the past ninjas who he had revealed himself to simply shrugged it off and didn't seem to care after he said he didn't need food or any of the other necessities. That didn't seem to matter to Randy as he pulled off the ninja mask, placing it in the old gym bag along with the bottle of water.

Nomi was actually touched by Randy's kindness. 

Randy grasped Nomi's hand as they took off in a brisk jog and in less than a couple minutes they arrived back at his home.

"Crud! If my mom sees you in your ninja suit she's going to ask about it. You think you can take it off?"

But of course Randy wasn’t perfect.

Nomi rolled his eyes. “Why didn't you tell me in the forest?"

"Err, brain fart?"

"I can tell."

Sighing, Nomi dug out his casual clothes from his bag in Randy's other hand before going into some bushes to change. Randy rubbed his neck and turned away. About a minute later, Nomi came out of the large green shrubs, sporting his casual clothing and his ninja clothing in his arm. Leaves and twigs were poking out of his now messy hair. Randy stifled a laugh.

"What?"

"Your hair...” Randy said in between laughs. “...dude...your hair..."

Nomi blinked. With his free arm, he felt his hair, realizing the mess that was now in his hair. He furrowed his brow and plucked them all out of his hair. He walked past Randy, who couldn’t stop laughing.

"Oh god...I'm sorry!...Haha! Okay, okay I'll stop...” Randy snickered loudly. He was trying very hard to stop laughing, but it took a minute to get himself together again. “Okay, now I'm done." Randy wiped at a stray tear as he let out a sigh before opening the door and letting Nomi in.

As fate would have it, Randy's mom wasn't home.

"Hehe, whoops." He gave Nomi a small nervous shrug. Nomi gave him a dark look before plopping down onto a chair by the counter. His stomach growled, reminding the two why they had left the woods in the first place. Randy looked through the wooden cabinets before pulling out two Mcfist's Cup-O-Noodles. Nomi raised a brow before remembering that Mcfist owned literally everything besides the city and the people themselves in Norrisville. 

He watched with curiosity as Randy opened one cup and poured water in from the distilled water machine. When he was done, he opened the black microwave and placed the cup in the center, typed on the control pad three minutes, and closed it shut. Instantly, the microwave came to life and began cooking the noodles, rotating it. Nomi watched in silent awe, but was caught off by Randy.

"So uh, Nomi?"  

The redhead blinked and turned to Randy, who was eyeing something on his cape. It was the green ninja head shaped relic.

"Yes?" He watched as he rubbed his finger over it. He would never tell Randy, but as he rubbed the relic, Nomi felt it was soothing and strange, very strange.

"What is that thing?" He was oblivious to his teacher's emotions, never taking his eyes off the relic.

"It's my life essence. It binds me to the book and my other belongings, so when I turn into my human form I come out wearing clothes." 

Randy nearly dropped the said relic, but before he could reply back a ding was heard, interrupting their suddenly awkward conversation.

"Uh, your soup is ready." Randy pulled out the cup, which was hot. The smell of the cooked noodles filled their nostrils. He placed the cup in front of Nomi before grabbing a fork and handing it to him. 

Randy quickly went to work on his own soup, putting it into the microwave.

"Oh, careful with the soup, Nomi. It’s really hot."

Nomi could sense that Randy was slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything about it. "Thank you." He focused on the noodles, taking a hesitant bite, but soon finding that it was at least good and edible.

Silence. The two didn't say a word as Nomi silently ate his meal.

Ding!

The silence was over as the chime-like sound cut through the deep awkward silence. Randy walked over and pulled out his own noodles and began to eat it, not caring that it was burning his tongue. He paused and went to the fridge, pulling out some juice boxes, handing one to Nomi and one for himself before continuing to eat.

Nomi finally paused in his eating, swallowing before talking.

"You know, I understand why you were curious, and I apologize for not telling you in a more appropriate manner." His accent made his apology sound so formal.

"No, it’s fine."

The two looked at each other briefly before going into a fit of laughter. They were cut off by the familiar sound of the door knob jiggling slightly. Randy's mother stepped in, humming.

"Oh Randy, you won't believe it! I got promoted, and I got a raise! I'll be working less hours now too! I'm officially second-in-charge of Mcfist and Weinerman Industries! Isn't that great?" The tall woman opened her eyes and was surprised to see that Randy was not alone. "Oh, why hello again, Nomi! I think I'm going to have to make more cookies! Where's Howard, hon?"

"Uh he's at home. He got in trouble."

"Ah, I see. Heidi?"

"Yeah. And congrats on the promotion, Mom! That’s great!"

The woman smiled, blushing lightly. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I'm just so happy! Now if you’ll excuse, me I have to finish some important paperwork. See you boys later!"

With that, she walked past them and darted into her room. 

Once again they were left alone.

...

The night came and the two sat tiredly on the couch long after Randy convinced Nomi to go to the bathroom. I mean c'mon the guy holds his bathroom for up to a hundred years the poor guy probably needs to go. 

"I'm going to call Howard to see if he's still alive. I haven't talked to him all day."

Nomi nodded as he turned his attention back to the TV. The movie was about zombies. Although Nomi thought it was a stupid idea for humans to come back to life after death, he still found the movie rather intriguing. Well, at least the characters were. Back then the tough, buff males were usually the heroes, and yet here was this movie. The hero was a scrawny male, and then there was this rather feisty female, and they were both fine on their own. They were looking for survivors, forming a large group, or family as they called it, thriving despite their slim chances of survival.

Nomi couldn't help but smile. “That's how life should be. That’s how it should always be.”

While Nomi continued to watch the movie, Randy chatted with Howard on the phone.

"So, Heidi didn't tell on you then?"

"Yeah. She said if I helped her with her stupid online show then she wouldn't say a word."

"What did she make you do exactly?"

Howard grumbled.

"I'm sorry, what?"

More grumbling.

"What?"

Another series of grumbles.

"Howard, c'mon dude, I can't—"

"I SAID SHE MADE ME WEAR A STUPID DIAPER FOR HER PARENTAL SEGMENT! GEEZ!"

By then, Randy had burst into laughter, dropping his phone before picking it back up. "Haha, okay. So can you come over, dude?"

Howard grumbled. "Yes. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Randy grinned. "Alright. Don't forget to change your diaper—"

"CUNNINGHAM!"

Randy burst into another fit of laughter as he hung up on Howard, who was yelling a loud string of swears. Nomi turned to him, having heard only fragments of the conversation.

"May I ask what is so funny?"

Randy finally calmed down enough to tell him. "Heh, Howard's sister made him wear a diaper on her online show."

"Oh, you mean that hideous creature you two call a girl?"

"Yep." Randy didn't even bother to hide the grin on his face.

After about ten minutes, Howard came in without even bothering to knock, startling the two and causing Nomi to nearly karate chop him in half. After a heated argument between Nomi and Howard, they finally sat back down onto the couch and enjoyed the rest of the movie.

"So, the book told me you got pwned in training," said Howard.

"I didn't get pwned!" Randy shot a glare at the redhead, who gave him an innocent look. "When did he tell you this!?"

"When you were in the bathroom. Dude, it took you an hour and a half to punch him? And two hours just to poke him with a stick? While he was blindfolded!"

"Hey, you try it and you tell me if it's easy!" Randy slumped in between the two with a pout on his face.

The night had carried on and soon the movie was over. Howard left, leaving Randy and Nomi asleep on the couch. 

At around ten, Randy’s mother came in the living room to wake up the boys and to tell them to go to bed. They quietly obliged.

….

It was night again. That meant tomorrow they would be going to school.

It would be Nomi's first day of school in over eight hundred years. 

Nomi sighed, staring at the ceiling. He was only a little uneasy. He knew school had changed a lot since the last time he went to one. But how much different could it be? He basically knew everything they were teaching in the school, since when he had nothing better to do, he snuck into libraries of the school and the school itself to read as many of the subjects as he could. School definitely wasn’t going to be that hard.

Nomi looked over the sleeping figure of Randy.

Nomi didn't need sleep. He could go weeks without it. Yet as he watched Randy sleep, he couldn’t help but think that it looked almost fun to sleep, or something. 

Nomi felt an odd ache in his heart. Most of the time his situation just didn’t hit him. He had been so busy being the Nomicon, being the teacher of several teenage ninjas, and nothing more, that he was too busy to even think about his life.

Sometimes Nomi wished he could have everything back. His family, his friends, his home, just everything. At times like these, Nomi wished he wasn't the Nomicon. He wished he was his normal self again, Nomi Conikos Norisu, the middle child of the famous Norisu Nine. With his five other siblings, Mei the little butterfly, his youngest sister, Ming, his clever also his youngest brother, they were the troublesome twins as his family would say. His brother Naru, who was a year younger than him, was bold and was his best friend, sister Yui, who was one year older than him, was the caring and motherly one of them all, and his eldest brother Daiku, the brave warrior and the more loved and respected of his siblings.

“And I the pathetic excuse of a brother, ninja, and Norisu.”

He recalled the events that had destroyed his family. He had been arguing with his grandparents a lot before the fire. Their parents had died, making them the Norisu seven.

Daiki had argued that Nomi wasn't fit to be a true ninja. He claimed that he was too immature, lazy, stupid...the list went on.

The scene became even clearer to Nomi. His brother, who looked like an older version of him, with the exception of his ponytail and golden eyes, arguing with their grandfather, and him tearing up and running off. Then there was the fire that had engulfed the entire village. The one that had wiped out his entire family. There was also his struggle to find the ninja suit and the original Nomicon. Then he had found his grandfather, dying, his last words a request to defeat the Sorcerer and to not put on the Ninja suit and to instead keep on the one he had on.

Back then he had not known why, but now he understood.

After the whole battle and becoming immortalized (and kept alive because his family gave a piece of their soul to bind him together), he had tried to search for his family until he was told by the surviving villagers that they had all perished. 

He had made it his mission to find a ninja to defend the new village, which later became what it is now. 

Norrisville.

Nomi blinked away the tears and soon realized it was early morning. He sat up. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He got up, putting away his blankets, pillow and mattress back where they belonged before going to the bathroom to shower. Randy had showed him how it worked, since he wasn't all too familiar with the modern method of bathing. He stripped himself of the pair of shorts and boxers before stepping into the shower. Instantly, the warm water made him feel refreshed.

When he was done showering, he realized he hadn't grabbed his clothes for the day. Nomi stepped into Randy’s room.

The day before, Randy had washed his clothes for him in the washing machine and had left them neatly folded by his dresser. Nomi felt slightly self conscious, walking around in Randy’s room naked. At least he had thought to grab a towel so he had something to cover himself with.

The purple-haired teen was still asleep. Nomi eyed the alarm clock next to the computer. It read 6:59 AM.

"Oh shit."

[hollyxqx]

the best friend  //  namjoon  //  oneshot

↪ PAIRING: Reader x Kim Namjoon ↪ SUMMARY: Namjoon is a shoulder to cry on whenever you need. ↪ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

↪WARNINGS: pwp | cheating | toxic relationships | angst

Namjoon sighs as you cross the threshold of his apartment having danced this dance before. He doesn't have to look at you to know you're crying. It's the same damn thing every time. You show up (usually at a ridiculously late hour) cry some more, let him hold you until you fall asleep and then leave in the morning like it never happened.

He knew he was a glutton for punishment when it came to you. It couldn't be helped. He loved you. More than that he was in love with you. Not that he'd ever told you. He couldn't. You were taken.

"Water or do you want something stronger?" He asks gently as he closes the front door.

"The strongest thing you have." You sniff. You follow him into the kitchen, watching as he gets two glasses from the cupboard. A bottle of whiskey sits on the counter, Namjoon grabs it swiftly.

"Get some ice." He instructs. You oblige, going straight to the freezer. You've been here so many times you feel comfortable to do so, his place is like a second home to you at times. You hand the bag of ice to him and it clinks when he tosses them into the glass. The whiskey promptly follows. "Here."

He hands you your glass, watching as you take a small sip. "Thank you." You say quietly.

"Lets go sit on the couch and talk." He says. It's part of the routine and although you are both aware of it, neither of you have ever openly discussed it. He trails behind you as you lead the way to the lounge, taking what he affectionately thinks is your spot on the sofa. He sits down next to you, an arm sliding over your shoulders and tugging you close. You lean in instinctively out of familiarity.

"I hate him, Joonie." Are the first words out of your mouth. Namjoon's grip tightens on your shoulder. This wasn't how your sessions normally went. You'd never said those words before.

"What did he do now?"

Namjoon was often careful not to refer to your boyfriend too negatively or use any harsh words. He wanted to say 'what did that piece of shit do to you' but he learned his lesson long ago, after a night of bad mouthing the man you literally went back to him the next day. It made Namjoon feel like a fool.

"We fought. I was late home from work. He says I'm cheating on him Joon," You scoff. "You know I'm not."

It makes his blood boil knowing how controlling this guy is of you. No one deserves that, especially you. Namjoon downs his whiskey in one shot.

"He's insecure, y/n. Don't take it personally." Is the best, most impartial advice Namjoon can offer.

"I think he's the one cheating." You say after a few moments. You pause, chewing your bottom lip. "I went through his phone. Is that bad?"

"Well," Namjoon sighs. "It's not good. I understand why you felt like you had to. Usually if someone is making wild accusations  they are the guilty party."

"There was a girl he was flirting heavily with. I'm sure he's deleted the really incriminating stuff." You scoff.

"I'm sorry, y/n." Namjoon rubs your arm up and down affectionately.

"Why doesn't he want me?" You look up at him with big, watery eyes. Namjoon's heart positively aches in his chest. He hates seeing you like this. "Why am I not enough?" A tear spills, cascading down your cheek.

"You are enough." Namjoon assures. "He is the problem. Not you."

"It doesn't feel like it." You mumble. "You know I've been trying to lose weight, thinking that will make him more attracted to me?"

Namjoon isn't sure if he wants to scream or go over to the apartment you share with that fucker and punch him square in the jaw. "You don't need to lose weight." He says through gritted teeth. "You're perfect."

"You only say that because you're my best friend. You have to." You look down shyly.

"I don't. I say that because it's what I think. I've thought you were gorgeous the moment I laid eyes on you." Namjoon says, a fiercely protective part of him roaring in his chest.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" You ask in a small voice.

"I think you're stunning."

"You've never told me that before." He can tell your embarrassed by the tiny smile you give him as your cheeks flush.

"If I had known you were doubting yourself I would have told you every single day." Namjoon says. It's the truth, he can't believe someone as beautiful as you would not see it. He'd be blind not to notice.

"You're so sweet Joonie." You rub an affectionate thumb over his cheek. It takes everything not to lean into your touch. "I love you."

"I love you too." He says thickly. The words carry much more weight for him than they do for you and he knows that - god he knows - but it's still nice to hear it, even if it is platonic on your end.

You wrap another arm around his waist, snuggling in even further. Namjoon hugs you tight, enjoying having you in his arms. He can't help himself, he places a kiss on top of your head. "Can I stay tonight?" You mumble into his sweater.

"Of course." You don't need to ask. Namjoon would do anything for you.

***

Namjoon wakes up pressed into your back, one arm around your waist, the other a makeshift pillow for your head. Cuddling during sleep is not unusual for the two of you but today is different. He has a raging boner.

Not a stranger to morning wood, he's used to it - however it's not normally this bad. He blames it entirely on the pretty girl, dressed in his clothes, asleep in the bed next to him. You stir in your sleep, ass grinding down on his hard cock and he bites his lip. Between the thin material of his boxers there's no way you can't feel how hard he is.

He grips your waist tighter, trying to maintain some control when all he wants to do is grind up against you to relieve some tension. Just when he thinks the moment has passed you do it again. Namjoon wonders if it's deliberate as he buries his face in your neck.

"Joonie?" You yawn sleepily, wiggling a little in his arms as you awaken. You try to turn over but Namjoon's hold is too strong.

"Stop moving." He feels like he might cum in his boxer shorts if you wiggle around anymore.

"Why - oh." The moment you notice his hardness he squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment. To his complete and total surprise you lean back further into him, reaching one hand over to grip his nape as you roll your hips against his cock. That time it was definitely deliberate.

It feels wonderful to him. His hand slides down to your hip bone, encouraging you. Before he even realizes what is happening you've got that same hand in yours, taking two of his fingers into your mouth and sucking on them gently. Namjoon almost groans audibly imagining it was cock.

You guide his hand down your body and his eyes go wide when you push him under the waistband of your panties. You want him to touch you. There. He's definitely dreaming but he does as you're suggesting, relishing when you let out a small moan. He's rubbing your clit slowly as he asks "Are you sure?" voice heavy with lust. He needs to hear you say it.

"Touch me, Joonie. I'm sure."

It feels surreal to be pleasuring you when you haven't even so much as kissed yet. Namjoon presses himself harder into you as he rubs faster. Your moaning louder now and it's like music to his ears. He noses some of your hair out of the way so he can place sloppy kisses on your neck. He can tell you like that by the way you angle your head so he can reach more of you.

A finger slips down to your entrance as he gathers some of the wetness there, a sound escaping his throat when he feels how wet you actually are, and it's all for him. He can't resist, he slips a finger inside and fucks you with it, accidentally biting your neck a little too hard as he does so. It's so much for him.

"You feel amazing." He whispers in your ear, dragging your lobe between his teeth. "It's better than I imagined."

"You've thought about me like this before Joonie?" You ask breathlessly as his fingers continue their relentless pace.

"You have no idea." He practically growls, slipping a second finger inside you as well, cock straining in his underwear.

"Joon!" You gasp. It only makes him fuck his fingers into you harder.

Namjoon can't take it anymore. He pulls his hand out of your underwear, moving so he can roll you on to your back. In one quick motion he strips your bottom half, tossing your panties and a pair of his borrowed shorts away with little regard. His mouth is on your core in seconds, dying for a taste.

The way you writhe and twist under him is intoxicating. He uses his large palms to spread your thighs and hold you still, eager to feel you cum this way. He can tell he's doing the right thing by the way your hands grip his hair and how you arch your back. He doesn't stop. "Joon - " You gasp. "Joon, I'm going to cum. Fuck - I'm, I'm - "

Your sentence is never finished as he feels you convulse around his fingers. Something he has thought about endlessly, but to experience it is even better. He rides you through your high, pulling away reluctantly when he realizes your over sensitive body can't handle it.

"Was that ok?" He can't help but ask, earning a breathy chuckle from you.

"More than. It was fucking incredible."

Namjoon crawls up over you, a hand pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. "Can I kiss you?"

You don't answer, instead you tug him down and press your lips against his. He puts everything he has in to the kiss, a subtle way to tell you how much he wants you, how much he has wanted you.

"Joonie?" You ask tentatively. "Can we have sex?"

The bashful way you speak makes him want to kiss you all over. "You really want that?" He says huskily.

"Really want that." You confirm.

He kisses you one more time, bucking his hips into you so you can feel how much he wants it too. You push his boxers down as he takes off your (his) shirt that you're wearing. Namjoon leans across you and grabs a condom from hid nightstand - he's always prepared. You grab it and tear it open with your teeth, he holds back a moan when you slide it on.

"Are you ready?" He whispers against your lips. You nod enthusiastically.

Namjoon pushes into you as slowly as he can, using all the restraint he can muster. It's hard when he's wanted you like this for so long. His head falls once he's buried to the hilt, overwhelmed. Only when you're pulling him in for a kiss does he start moving again, hips snapping up and into you.

"Fuck, Namjoon," You cry when he hits that sweet spot inside of you.

"You're so fucking tight, y/n. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

You moan loudly. "It feels so good."

This only spurs Namjoon on. He wants to make you feel as good as possible, better than you've ever felt in your life. He fucks into you with vigour, watching your face intently to see how it affects you. "I want to feel you cum again." He groans. "Do you think you can?"

"I don't know." You pant. "That's never happened before."

"Try." Namjoon moans loudly when you clench around him, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps your legs around his middle as he fucks into you. "Try for me."

He doesn't stop and his chest swells with pride when he feels you squeeze around him, the throes of another orgasm that he gave you milking his cock. Namjoon comes almost instantly after, spilling inside the condom. His movements slow eventually and all that is left is him inside you, cradling you in his arms as he places sweet kisses on your lips.

"That was so good." You tell him, clinging to him like your life depends on it. He pulls out when he can and throws the condom away, climbing back into bed once more, engulfing you in his arms. It doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, Namjoon notes. It feels right.

"I didn't mean for that to happen, but I'm glad I did." He tells you quietly, brushing some hair out of your face.

"I needed that." You smile.

***

Namjoon should have seen it coming, he was a fool for thinking that time was any different to the others you'd used him as a shoulder to lean on. That day you ended up having sex two more times and it felt as if he finally had everything he wanted. Little did he know he was sorely mistaken. When Namjoon checks his social media the following day he sees you post a recent picture of you and your boyfriend.

It's bitter and it makes his chest feel tight and uncomfortable. You had done what you always did and he should have known better than to give in to you. As he looked at the picture of you and your boyfriend all he could do was wish he didn't love you like he did.

masterlist

[occasionally-writing]

We’re Soulmates!

A/N: I...am not sure if I am quite proud of this one, but I tried my best. This was my first soulmate kind of fanfic and like I said, I really don’t think it’s too good. I’m sorry if this isn’t too good @whatisadecentusername. This is heavily based of episode six and unless I say so otherwise...I don’t think I should really do anymore soulmates/soulmark fanfics due to how much I struggled with this. I want to make good stuff and I just don’t think I did okay one this. Other than that, I hope you and everyone else likes it.

Summary: To Tharn, sharing a soulmark with Type was hard and Type finally realizes he was wrong and tries to make it up to Tharn by apologizing to him.

Word Count: 2000

Laying his bed with his headphones in, Tharn kept his gaze out the window, examining the night sky as he was left alone in his and Type’s dorm room. The last few days have been disastrous and honestly so depressing that Tharn hasn’t been in the mood for anything. He had been skipping classes and eating his meals was another thing he hasn’t been doing well on. He barely ate anything for breakfast or lunch and he had completely skipped dinner. Shaking the thought of food out of his head, Tharn buried his face in the pillow and stared down at his wrist where a small tattoo like mark of a musical note attached to a soccer ball rested on the inside of his arm. Reaching out, Tharn rubbed at it softly with his thumb as he felt the emotion he was feeling earlier at the bar rise up again. Sniffing softly, Tharn buried his soulmark arm away from his line of sight before he slammed his eyes shut, sealing the tears that were threatening to spill from them inside. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get some sleep, Tharn just rested with his eyes closed as he thought about everything that happened earlier within the day. 

“You’re seeing another person, Type! I have a right to be mad! We’re sharing soulmarks for fucks sake!” Tharn growled out, meeting Type head on once he finally got home from being on a date with that girl. Tharn could not believe that he had to hear from Techno that his soul partner was on a date and seeing another girl while they were in a casual relationship and having sex literally almost every night. Hearing the growl that Type let out as they continued to yell and scream at each other, Tharn felt his mind snap as he lost his cool and yelled something he knew he usually wouldn’t say on any circumstance. “You’re my bitch!”

The punch that Type landed right across his face knocked him back to his senses a bit once he realized what he shouted. Listening to Type scream at him about not having a right to demand who he had sex with or who he saw, Tharn tried to keep the tears out of his eyes as he held his face, continuing to listen to Type go off until he finally stopped, panting as he tried to catch his breath while he glared at the silent Tharn. Not saying another word, Tharn moved his teary gaze away from Type and only observed from the corner of his eye as Type gathered his pillow and comforter, leaving the room with the dorm door slamming shut as he left, most likely heading next door to sleep for the night. Feeling his cheek throb under his hand as his tears finally fell, Tharn took a shaky breath in and out as his body began to tremble, letting out everything he was holding back in that moment. It wasn’t long before he finally moved and just collapsed in his bed, burying his face in his pillow so it could muffle the cries and whimpers that were leaking out no matter how hard he tried to conceal them. 

Opening his eyes as the sunlight beamed through the window, Tharn winced as it burned them before he slowly pushed himself up, turning around a bit to glance at Type’s bed. Noticing the pillow and comforter back on the bed, Tharn knew that Type had come back while he was asleep and must’ve left without saying anything to him. There wasn’t even breakfast waiting for him and why would he be surprised after what had happened yesterday? Letting out a shaky sigh, Tharn pushed himself off his bed and moved towards the bathroom, staring hard at himself in the mirror as he noticed a slight bruise developing where Type had punched him along with his red and swollen eyes that must be from him crying in his sleep most of the night. Filling the sink with water, Tharn splashed some of the cool water on his face before he let it drain and he undressed to head into the shower, knowing he couldn’t lay around and mope for the rest of the day. He had classes and he had to show Type that what he said wasn’t going to affect him. 

“You don’t look any better today than you did yesterday...seriously Tharn, what is wrong?” Long sighed, examining his friend as Tharn continued to look out the window. Looking him up and down, Long couldn’t help but notice how his eye bags which were there yesterday were still around and possibly darker than they were the day before as well. He knew that it had something to do with Type but Long had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to really drag it out of Tharn, since his friend usually kept the things that hurt him to himself. Placing his hand on Tharn’s shoulder, Long squeezed it and grinned sadly when he finally got Tharn’s attention. “Tharn, I know it’s not something you’d want to hear but...maybe you should get over Type. I know you guys are soulmark mates and all, but you know not everyone has to have matching soulmarks to be happy. A lot of couples who don’t share one end up happy...maybe you should think about that?”

“Long...I know…” Tharn sighed, feeling another wave of emotion wash over him before he steeled himself, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Taking it out, Tharn brought his attention from his friend to look at the text message, feeling his heart grow cold as he noticed it was from Type and how he listed things that people do in casual relationships. Gritting his teeth as his jaw tensed, Tharn blinked away the tears and shut off his phone, shoving it back in his pocket as he opened his desk, giving Long one look. “I’m leaving and skipping afternoon classes…”

Ignoring his friend’s attempts to keep him there, Tharn stomped out of the classroom and out of his faculty’s building, practically storming past all the people who were giving him nervous looks. Once he finally reached the dormitory, Tharn rode the elevator up and threw open his door, kicking off his shoes harshly before he moved towards the bathroom, wanting to take a shower to cool off before he lost whatever composure he had left. Not noticing the sound of the door to their dorm open, along with shoes being kicked off, Tharn opened the bathroom door and walked out in nothing but a towel, right into Type. Staring each other down for a moment, Tharn swallowed the lump in his throat and moved passed him, walking towards his dresser to get some pajamas out. They had a talk that Tharn desperately wanted to avoid but he held back his feelings and just laid down his bed and listened to Type get ready for his date and leave. 

“Tharn…? Are you awake?” Keeping silent as the door opened to their dorm and Type walked in, Tharn kept his eyes closed as his roommate and soulmark mate entered further in and kicked off his shoes, making his way to his bed before the mattress creaked at the extra weight and an arm wrapped around his waist, holding on tightly as Type snuggled into his back, sounding close to tears. Hearing his apologies, Tharn opened his eyes slightly and moved to take his headphones off, placing them on the bedside table before he turned on his back so he could give Type his attention, despite wanting to sleep and forget everything that happened. “I can’t believe I said those things to you...I’m so sorry, Tharn.”

“Shh...it’s okay. You know I can’t stay mad at you,” Tharn hushed, wrapping his arm around Type so that he could bury his face in his neck, running his fingers through Type’s hair as they cuddled slightly. Keeping silent as Type’s sniffs and hitches of breath finally halted a bit, Tharn closed his eyes as Type pulled away and then pushed himself up, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he pressed another to his cheek before he finally reached his lips, pressing them together softly while Tharn deepened it, brushing their tongues together softly as Type opened up for him. Pulling away once they had to breathe, Tharn kept their foreheads pressed together as they smiled softly at each other. He knew they had a lot to work out but for now, all he wanted to do was sleep with Type in his arms. “Come on, it’s late. Go change so we can sleep.”

The next morning, after a night full of love making, Tharn woke up and moved towards the food he prepared earlier, frowning slightly when he realized it had gone cold. After getting Type up and walking around, Tharn went to shower before they went to class, walking side by side until they left for their different faculties. It was obvious to long that Tharn was feeling a lot better, if his smile did not tell him otherwise. Not saying a word as Tharn paid attention to class, Long egged him on for the notes that he knew he missed while Tharn rolled his eyes and handed his notebook to his friend when the class finally ended. Gathering everything up before he placed it in his messenger bag, Tharn knocked on Long’s desk, pointing towards the door.

“I’m going to head back to my dorm. Just give me back my notes tomorrow before class, okay?” Rolling his eyes at the whine Long gave him, Tharn flicked his forehead before he left the classroom, practically hurrying to leave the faculty as he headed towards the dormitory where he hoped that his, now boyfriend, was waiting for him. Strolling up the stone steps and into the building, Tharn rode the elevator up and as he opened the door to their shared dorm, a grin rose on his face as he noticed Type in his bed, playing around with his phone. Noticing Tharn, Type smiled slightly which made Tharn’s heart bounce around ecstatically in his chest. “I’m back.”

“Welcome back,” Type replied softly, observing as Tharn practically flung his shoes to the wall along with his backpack before he crossed the room, diving into the bed as he wrapped his arms around Type’s waist, bringing his back close to his chest. Rolling his eyes as he was once again cuddled like a teddy bear, Type put his phone down and just leaned into Type, not minding the heat his boyfriend’s body was giving off for once. Talking about their day, Type turned his body so he and Tharn could be face to face while they talked. It was then that he noticed how skinny Tharn seemed, like he lost a lot of weight for some reason. “Did you lose weight? That...was because of me, wasn’t it? I’m really sorry, Tharn.”

Shaking his head softly, Tharn pressed their lips together before he pulled away, keeping their foreheads touching as he intertwined their hands, moving their gazes down to each other’s matching soulmarks. Trailing his fingers down, Type gently swept his thumb around Tharn’s mark before he pulled his hand up and pressed a kiss to the ink like mark. Letting out a gasp at the spark of sensation he got from the kiss, Tharn pulled Type closer and smashed their lips together, deepening the kiss while Type moved his hands into his hair, pulling at it lightly as their tongues danced together. Pulling away to breathe, Type threw his head back as Tharn moved his kisses down to his neck, nibbling at the once fading marks he left earlier. It wasn’t long before their clothes were thrown off onto the floor and the idea of getting dinner left Type’s mind as Tharn once again, showed him the night of his life with their almost endless love making.

[emmaniamh13]

I can make it better, I can knead you tighter

Summary: Yoongi has been working 24/7 lately and Namjoon has had enough of seeing his best friend resembling a corpse walk through their apartment door at ungodly hours. So he forces him to relax. Little did he know, Yoongi would find a more fitting stress reliever for his body but Namjoon really didn't need to know that much.

Tags: Semi-Public Sex; Rimming; Fingering; Anal Sex; Bottom Yoongi; Top Taehyung; Slight Dom/Sub; Unprotected Sex (Stay Safe Kids)

Part 01 ; Part 2

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The door fell shut with a loud bang. Yoongi just wanted to get to his bed he was too tired to care about making too much noise

"Hyung is that you? God do you know what time it-"

Namjoon stopped in his steps after coming around the corner

"Dammit Hyung!" he cursed lowly "Have you looked in the mirror? You look like you've been hit by a bus. Multiple times" he emphasized with a frustrated huff

Yoongi just shrugged and tried to move past the younger, not in the mood for the other to pester him about his habits.

But Namjoon didn't let him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the living room. Before Yoongi could process, he had been pushed onto the couch and locked into place by Namjoon's frame.

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself anymore Hyung! You're gonna take a few days off and if I have to imprison you for that to happen then so be it" he spoke while folding his arms in front of his chest for emphasis.

Yoongi just stared up at him bewildered, his tired mind trying to figure out what his friend and roommate  expected from him right now. When it looked like nothing more would come from Namjoon he felt like he needed to respond.

So he did.

"What?"

And he watched Namjoon deflate slightly

"Hyung" he whined

"Pay attention, will you? I'm not letting you go to work for the next few days that's what"

Now Yoongi had enough time to process and when the pieces slotted together, he literally jumped of the couch to protest only to be pushed back down by his dongsaeng, landing on the soft pillows with a huff

"Namjoon what the hell" he growled but the other just continued to block his way, unfazed.

"You have to promise me, you'll stay home tomorrow and actually sleep a little"

"The hell I will" the older threw back "I need to finish that project and you know it"

Namjoon nodded "Yeah I know" he answered matter-of-factly "but that project isn't due until the 20th and I know for a fact that you're nearly finished, so a few free days won't hurt" he stated

"Namjoon" he warned "Let me sleep I need to be out early tomorrow"

"You're not going anywhere tomorrow and that is final" Namjoon didn't move from his spot and his features seemed to brighten suddenly, and Yoongi sighed. That could only mean he had some sort of idea and most of them he's had, ended badly for Yoongi. Not that Namjoon didn't always have his best interest at heart, Yoongi was aware, but Namjoon's idea of fun and relaxation was quite different from his own- to put it nicely

"Except to a Massage Parlour"

Yoongi's eyes went wide

"What"

"You heard me. I'm gonna book you an appointment at this really good one not far from here. You'll love it I promise" he sounded excited but Yoongi just groaned

"Just please let me go. I'll try to take more breaks in between I promise" he started to whine, his body screaming desperately for much-needed rest

But Namjoon only shook his head "That's the plan and that's final. I'll drag you there if I have to"

"Okay. Okay I'll do it just let me get to bed. Please" if he weren't so sleep deprived he would have rather shoved his way through Namjoon's human barricade but well, that sadly wasn't the case

Namjoon lit up and immediately helped Yoongi off the couch to bring him to his room "Perfect! I'll ring first thing in the morning"

Yoongi only nodded slowly and waved him off, mumbling some curses under his breath as they walked into his room and as soon as Namjoon let go he let himself fall, sighing as he felt the familiar feel of soft mattress underneath.

He was out like a light.

He woke up to his alarm, groaning at the loud noise blaring through his ears and hitting directly against his brain.

A headache. Just great.

He didn't stop groaning, nearly falling off his bed in the process of trying to roll out of it. The all-nighters and dozen coffees probably weren't the best routine-idea he’s ever had.

He felt like shit. But he didn’t dwell on it.

He’s plan was to go to the kitchen to start his day with a coffee; the first out of another dozen he guessed; until he noticed that he couldn't. His door was locked.

Fucking locked.

Rattling at the door, he got more furious by the second. "Namjoon!" he barked "Did you lock me into my fucking room?" He yelled for him again when he didn't hear anything

"Yep" he heard the shout back

"What the fuck!"

"I told you, you're going to stay at home today and you agreed. Luckily I know you well enough to know that you'd try this" his voice sounded closer this time "You're going to stay in this room and do anything but work, then I'm going to drive you to the parlour. You'll feel better afterwards I promise. You're going to feel brand new in that worn-down body of yours" He was right in front of the door by now

"Open the door right now or I swear I'll-"

"I'm used to your threats by now so they're no use" Namjoon deadpanned "Go to sleep Yoongi or I'll knock you out so that your body has a chance to rest, you inconsiderate idiot"

"You can't just lock me in here! I'm a grown man and I can do whatever-"

"Yeah you might be but you're a man with absolutely zero consideration for the body you're inhabiting. So fuck off and rest for once.” he continued humorously “I'm going to work! See you"

---

He got pulled through the door so fast he didn’t even know what happened. All he knew was that Namjoon grabbed him, threw him into the car, drove like an idiot , nearly crashed into a fire hydrant, ended up here and yeeted him through the parlour door in a way Yoongi seriously started to question time, space and his life. All while managing to not utter a single word; which made the whole situation even weirder.

Namjoon was busy talking to the receptionist behind the wooden desk so all Yoongi could do was look around, analyse every nook and cranny just to find a meagre flaw to use as excuse and get out of here. He really didn’t fancy getting touched by a stranger; especially on areas that were anything other than his hands.

The reception desk was right at the front and beside it was a small, cozy looking sitting area. Past the desk led a hall to several doors on each side, probably various Massage rooms. It seemed clean and the receptionist friendly

Just like Yoongi had always imagined shops with services like this – basically using those he always saw on TV as his base of knowledge

Shit there wasn’t anything wrong with this place on first glance. And what the hell could he say anyway to make Namjoon let him off the hook?

The receptionist seems too friendly? The waiting area too comfy? The floor too clean?

Nope he was fuck-

“Hyung?”

“Huh?”

Both Namjoon and the receptionist were looking at him expectantly

“Mr. Park asked you to wait in room 4” Yoongi met the Man’s eyes then flickered shortly down to his chest, where his nametag read Jimin Park

“It’s the second door on the right. Taehyung will be with you shortly so just get comfortable”    

“Taehyung?” was that a name they used for woman nowadays?

Jimin nodded curtly, showing a friendly smile “Your Masseur”

Yoongi blanked for a second before he gave a quick  "ok” as response and hurriedly scurried towards room number 4.

The room was smaller and darker than the foyer but nevertheless it gave off a rather warm vibe, a lavender scent in the room hitting his nostrils instantly and soothing him slightly. In the middle stood a massage table with a hole in the top – probably to squeeze your face through. The rest of the room was just filled with a cabinet and a stool.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scented whatever that floated the room. He was really nervous.

How does this work? Should he already strip? How many clothing items should he even get rid of? Or should he just wait? Jimin did tell him to get com-

Upon hearing the door open he nearly tripped with how quick he turned.

And then there he stood, like a deer caught in headlights, staring with shock-filled eyes at a complete stranger. A rather handsome one, he had to admit.

“So you must be Mr. Min” he spoke with a smile “it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Taehyung and I will be the one who’s going to be touching you today”

Yoongi wondered if this was a dream and if he should just punch himself in the face despite the answer to that, muscles seizing up even more, eyes widening in plain anxiousness. His masseur seemed to catch on to that, eyes also parting a bit further as he watched the display of sheer terror.

“Uh..” he started awkwardly “I’m sorry I thought I was being funny. You know, break the ice and..stuff” he grimaced, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Yoongi just nodded but not trusting his vocal cords to fabricate words right now.

He realized that this was really happening. Unless he pukes all over the room or faints right on the spot he won’t be able to get out of this. Namjoon is waiting right outside and if he makes a run for it - he'll notice.

Taehyung shut the door and began walking further into the room, heading for the cabinet and setting something on top of it- probably ignoring the way Yoongi flinched at the sound.

“So what massage option did you choose?” he asked with his back still turned

“Uh” Yoongi had no clue “M-My friend set me up for this so I- I don’t really know”

Did he just fucking stutter!?

Taehyung hummed “Ok no problem I’ll just check your profile” he turned to face the other, eyes meeting

And Yoongi was able to really look at him for the first time. He looked like he was in his early twenties, black, longish hair that fell over his forehead casually, a straight nose, full rosy lips, ears that could’ve been too big but complemented him perfectly and tanned skin that reminded him of honey.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Taehyung starting to move back to the door “You can strip and get comfortable under the towel. I’ll be back and knock on the door, just tell me if you’re ready or not.” He spoke calmly, grabbing the handle

Yoongi froze again “Strip?”

Taehyung also halted and turned around halfway “yeah for the massage” he smiled warmly “we don’t have a massive variety of massages but for most of them I need to be able to reach as much muscle as possible. Unless you chose a foot massage?”

Would Namjoon make such a fuss just over a foot massage? Nah he doubted that. So he shook his head

The masseur huffed an amused laugh “Well then I’ll need you out of those layers” he pointed at Yoongi’s black jeans and sweater with a certain glint in his eyes that Yoongi failed to notice

“Again, I’ll knock so just tell me if you need more time” and with that he left the room

So he decided to do just that. Strip

But to what extend? He didn’t know. And for him it was another reason to have another inner crisis.

Down to his trousers? To his underwear? Or completely nude? He just started to undress and by the time the expected knock came from the door he stood there in only his underwear, not knowing how much the young masseur wanted him to wear and he only had a few seconds to decide. All in or chicken out?

“Mr. Min? Are you ready?”

“Yeah just, just give me a second”      

and Yoongi just yanked the only clothing item left on his body down his legs – flinging it to the rest of his poorly folded pile and hurrying to the bed to get under the white sheet. Again he was overwhelmed with the decision of how much of himself he should cover with the cloth but he just decided to pull it all the way up to his neck.

Taehyung can fix it, if he needs to

Another knock resounded through the room “Ready?” And Yoongi heard himself call out a short “Yes!” – Probably a bit too harsh for a completely relaxed client about to get a massage

The door opened and in strolled his masseur with towels and various bottles in hand “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable” he spoke in a light tone and Yoongi just stayed quiet, not knowing if Taehyung was expecting a response.

“So” he continued, lowering his voice, perfectly fitting into the relaxing atmosphere with his fruity voice “I’ve brought multiple scented oils with me. Do you have any preferences or should I read them out loud and you pick or how do you want to do it?”

Yoongi thought about if he wanted to smell anything in particular right now but his mind was blank except anxiousness and the feeling of the table hole straining his face. At least he knew that he wasn’t going to get any extra wrinkles by lying here.

“No not really” he remembered to answer “You can pick if you like”

Taehyung gave a hum of acknowledgement “Alright. I can do that” From his position on the bed he heard rustling, the water tab running and stopping again. Footsteps followed – wandering from left to right. Then suddenly he felt a touch at his shoulder and he flinched, not expecting it.

“Oh sorry I should’ve said something” Taehyung apologized but Yoongi laughed it off nervously “It’s fine. I should have been ready for it”

With that the touch was back “I’m going to move the sheet to your lower back ok?”

After Yoongi consented he started lifting the fabric, Yoongi tensing at the feel of cold air hitting his bare back. “Good? I’m going to start with your arms alright?”

Yoongi noticed that Taehyung now tried to talk him through all the movements – Probably noticing his hesitance which didn’t take a body language expert to say the least. He confirmed another time and so he felt Taehyung’s fingers on him once again, slicked up with a rosy-smelling oil and starting to massage down the side of his right arm with a pressure that instantly soothed him.

“The pressure okay? Just speak up if you want it harder or softer” and the other only grunted, too lazy to move his mouth The masseur continued to stroke his arm, sometimes wedging his thumb into a knot below his armpit and eliciting a groan from the older.

Once he was done with the first arm he moved to the other to repeat the pattern.

“I’m going to move to your back now. Feel free to mention any areas you might have problems with” he spoke up again, voice low

“Everywhere” the other deadpanned

“What?”

“My back always hurts. Everywhere” when he didn’t get a response he continued “I work a job that requires a lot of sitting and -well – my friends like to say that I’m quite the workaholic” he elaborated further

“Alright” The masseur answered, sounding in thought “then with which part do you have problems the most?”

Yoongi mulled the question over in his head, thinking about different situations where he had to deal with back pain – which were a lot

“Well I think my lower back kills me a bit more than the rest” he chuckled drily “I have shit posture in general”

“Then I’ll do your upper back first and spend a bit more time on your lower back” the other suggested

“You’re the professional” Yoongi shrugged, which he assumed only looked like a light shoulder lift in his position but Taehyung got it anyway

So he started working his shoulders, feeling the other literally melt under his fingers and hearing him yelp once or twice when he tried to dig out a particularly tight knot. “Well even if you hadn’t told me about your back I would have felt it” he began “it’s like I’m massaging stone”

And he heard the older laugh for the first time, apparently finding the worrying state of his shoulders funny “Well it’s good that I warned ya then isn’t it?” he shot back playfully

Taehyung smiled and continued to press his fingers into different pressure points

“So what do you do for living then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Uhm I’m a producer” came the muffled reply

“Oh? Impressive” he grinned “Well did you work on any songs that I might know?”

“I work more with Rap Artists so if you’re into that scenery you might- AH”

“Sorry” Taehyung apologized sheepishly, moving away from the base of his neck for the time being. “I do like Rap actually” the masseur continued the conversation “It’s not my main genre but I do listen to a few artists. So shoot! Maybe I’ll know someone” he encouraged

“Okay uhm- do you know Zico for instance? Or J-Hope? I’ve worked a lot with them until now” he paused, thinking “I’ve worked with DEAN as well. I don’t know if you might know him he’s more in the R&B scene -uh and I did a bit of stuff for a few kpop bands as well.”

“I actually know all of those artists!” The other exclaimed “Wow so you are quite the bigshot huh?” he teased

Yoongi chuckled “Nah nothing like that”

Taehyung hummed “Someone’s being modest here I see." He smiled "If I’m allowed to ask, how was it working with J-Hope? I’ve heard quite a lot about him, isn’t he like - one of the biggest Rappers in Korea? I mean, I’ve listened to his music and the lyrics sound so sincere. Like he’s telling a proper story, you know? I also love how he's not so stuck on Rap, there are quite a few songs from his that are slower, more emotional if that makes sense. I like to say I'm a fan”

Yoongi chuckled quietly at Taehyung’s excitement

“He’s really good to work with. Knows what he wants but is always open for change or another’s opinion, which in return allows him to try new stuff and see a perspective of things that he’s not familiar with himself. So yeah Hobi’s an amazing artist and an even better person. Not to mention a literal ray of sunshine so I enjoy working with him every time” he felt his mouth pull into a smile at the thought of Hoseok. He should text him again some time.

Taehyung's hands continued down Yoongi’s back “Wow you sound like you’re very fond of him. So I’m guessing by how you just called him that you know him more than just a co-worker? You friends?”

“Yeah. He’s the total social type so he gets on with literally anyone – well if he wants to that is. Even if you’re the grumpiest human on the planet he’ll get you to like him.” He chuckled breathily as the memory of their first meeting flooded his mind. God did he want to lock Hoseok into the toilet back then so that he wouldn’t have to hear his laugh every fucking 10 seconds.

Now it was one of his most favorite features that came with Hoseok, that made him - him. “I feel like we complete each other, as cheesy as it sounds. He’s so lively and I’m- well not that much. We’re complete opposites but I could never get mad or annoyed with him because I know that he always wants what's best for me. Fuck sorry that got a bit too deep didn’t it? Didn’t even notice I was rambling..” he trailed off quietly

Gosh was he friend-whipped

“You really adore him don’t you?” Taehyung answered after a while of comfortable silence

“I guess.. Again sorry, you didn’t need to know all that”

“It’s more than alright Mr. Min trust me. I asked didn’t i? It’s nice to hear about a person living a life in public; how he’s in private and not just how the tabloids portray him. How you just described him makes me instantly want to meet him.” He laughed

“Yoongi”

Taehyung’s hands faltered slightly “Sorry?”

“Call me Yoongi. After what I just told you I would feel uncomfortable if you keep calling me Mr. Min” he huffed “But yeah maybe if you’re up to it someday I can introduce you to him. He’s always excited to meet new people”

“I’d be more than just up for it” He answered quickly, smile seeping through his voice “So I’m done with your back is it okay if we move on to your legs now?”

“Right yeah” Yoongi felt the sheet being lifted from his lower back and settle lower, right before his back rounded into his arse. He realized that his breath caught a little in his throat at the mere thought of being exposed like that.

He had to admit to himself that he hadn’t gotten laid in ages due to being pent up in his studio nearly all of the time.

Damn, fuck Namjoon and his fucking valid points.

Plus, he had no idea why that thought just crossed his mind in the middle of a massage, when the masseur wasn’t even near an area where it would be acceptable to have thoughts like this. Not that it was acceptable in the first place.

And once this thought had broken through the barrier it had created a hole for more. And Taehyung’s hands really didn’t make it any better. More like the opposite, funny enough

The young masseur was now busy with kneading the flesh around Yoongi’s hips, pushing his thumbs into the muscles. Sometimes his fingers would slip a little lower- maybe a milli-centimetre under the sheet to reach the skin and that alone made Yoongi’s thoughts spiral

And it just felt so good.

Taehyung was moving his hands perfectly, with expertise and found just the right pressure for Yoongi to feel it through his muscles straight to his core. And that’s when he didn’t catch himself fast enough to notice the sound that just escaped his mouth. Only when Taehyung halted, did his eyes fly open in horror, realising how that moan just sounded. He knew it sounded dirty. But the other must have recognized it as a moan of pain-relief or something along those lines because he continued, moving his hands as if nothing happened.

After that embarrassing incident Yoongi made sure to keep quiet before he made another fool of himself. But that caution flew out the window rapidly when the Taehyung first began massaging tightly into his calves, then moving up to the back of his thighs. He spread his thumb and forefinger and slid up to where he had lifted the white cloth off his legs and back down again.

And sometimes – just sometimes – his thumb would slip toward his inner thigh and Yoongi felt it every time with an intensity, he didn’t want to admit. He begged Taehyung in his head to let off that spot. To avoid it. But he didn’t utter a word and sadly the masseur was no mind reader. So after a few times of slipping, Taehyung just gave up and just let his thumb slide freely. Over his inner thigh.

And yoongi felt himself twitch. Fucking twitch on a fucking massage table in a massage parlour getting a fucking massage from an unbelievable handsome young man. Yep these thoughts definitely made it better.

He cursed himself. He never guessed he would be the type to get a semi hard-on during a massage but his fingers were just. So. Good. The way he pushed his fingers into sore spots and how he dipped into his skin just to soothen it back out afterwards.

“Is it ok?” he heard the soft voice “You haven’t said anything in a while” Yoongi could just grunt hoping he understood it as the consent to continue. And he did, to the elders relief. It even seemed like the feedback spurred him on, his fingers digging into his skin a bit harder, drawing circles a bitdeeper.

And then his finger ground hard against his inner thigh and it caught Yoongi by surprise. Which led a deep grunt to escape his throat. But this time Taehyung didn’t stop and only ground over the inside more often, with more pressure – obviously noting that Yoongi seemed to squirm whenever he let his fingers glide over the skin there.

Laying on the table he started feeling too restricted, too crushed and he really didn’t know how he was supposed to get out of this without the masseur noticing. The said man started to switch legs, starting the same routine on the other. But this time he knew which buttons to press.

Yoongi had been fairly quiet throughout the massage but once he pressed there, he saw the other tense. Felt it.

And he liked it. The way Yoongi was trying to keep it together but wasn't aware of how tight his grip on the cloth below him had gotten. The way his moans sounded absolutely filthy and Taehyung couldn't stop imagining how sweet he would sound if Yoongi let him touch him. Properly. Because Taehyung wanted too. Really wanted too.

He knew this wasn't professional and normally he wouldn't encourage this. This has never really happened before. Of course he had clients that were moaners, or had fetishes that Taehyung really didn't want to feed. But Yoongi was different. He was rough around the edges and looked intimidating as hell. But he had the biggest heart for people that he cared about, even if he didn't like to admit it.

And he was just so fucking pretty. He wanted to ruin that porcelain skin the moment he saw it without fabric blocking his sight. And just the thought of tearing him down, to make him leave his tough facade so that he's only left with broken sobs and a chant of Taehyung's name on his tongue. Yeah. Now that's what he really wanted to witness

So the same process occurred, Taehyung paying more attention to the inner thighs and Yoongi trying not to drool or rut against the bed. But the next thing Yoongi knew, he was letting out a long, guttural, breathy moan, not even trying to hold back and he felt himself leak onto the table beneath him. The young masseur had decided to take both his hands and deliberately press and grind up and down his inner thighs.

He did it again, just to test, and again Yoongi couldn’t help himself; The moan escaped and his breath was shaky, desperately trying to get his act together but it was just so hard

“Taehyung” he groaned, half-biting into the fabric of his face hole

The other hummed in acknowledgement

“W-What are you doing?”

“Why. Don’t you like it” it wasn’t a question and as to confirm, he ran both his thumbs down the inside of Yoongi’s thighs until he reached the bed underneath with both, so close to his already painfully squashed dick but yet so far. Yoongi nearly whined at how sensitive he was but was able to not embarrass himself entirely - though a whimper still made it past his lips

“Taehyung stop I-I’m going to-“ another swipe; this time back towards his ass, grazing it lightly with his nails

“ghn”

“Seems to me that you like it Hyung. I mean look at you. Trying to act like you’re not half-rutting against the fucking bed” Yoongi’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t even noticed-

“Oh don’t stop just because I caught you now. But if you really want me to stop…just say the word” His voice was sincere; the complete opposite of his fingers that wandered further and over his cheeks, giving them a good squeeze and spreading the oil over his ass at the same time. Yoongi could feel the fingers wander towards his crack slowly and then hesitating

“Can I?” Taehyung sounded unsure

“Please” came his strained reply. And from there on he knew it himself - he was oh so fucked

[avintagekiss24]

Piper’s Creek [6/10]

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 3002

Warnings: language, shape shifting/animal transformation

Rating: M (for language)

Link: AO3

Summary: Sam Wilson is a simple man. He likes to do simple things, like going fishing on a warm summer day. Little does Sam know, this fishing trip will not only lead him to his soulmate, but into a world of ancient folklore.

Square Filled: C2 - Never the fall that kills you for @buckybarnesbingo

B5 - Sam Wilson for @stuckybingo2019

A/N: 5 parts down, 5 parts to go! We’ve got a full moon in full effect in this part...

@waltermittie is responsible for the artwork! Have you guys followed her yet???

Sam rolls over onto his back and stretches out his arms and legs, letting out a breath and a groan. He drops his hands back to the bed and rolls back over on his side. He slides his hand across the sheets, expecting to feel another body, but comes up empty. He cracks open an eye, his vision blurry with sleep and finds the spot next to him vacant. He takes another breath and picks up his head to peer into the bathroom, but sees no movement.��

“Bucky?” He calls groggily, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. 

Night has fallen over the small cottage. Sam is beyond sore, his muscles aching from their vigorous session hours earlier. Bucky’s weight and strength had certainly caught the air force veteran by surprise. He’s exhausted, and feels as though he’s been hit by a semi, but Bucky has managed to check off another box on Sam’s wish list. Sam Wilson loves a strong man.

He rolls over onto his back again, sprawling his limbs out on the mattress as he opens his eyes slowly, “Bucky, come back to bed.”

A loud thud sounds through the house suddenly, followed quickly by glass shattering as it crashes to the floor. Sam springs forward, eyes wide, mouth agape as his breathing quickens. He jumps when the front door slams against the wall and is followed by quick, heavy footsteps that quickly disappear. 

Sam throws the covers off of him and shuffles into his boxer briefs. He peeks around the threshold of the bedroom door and focuses his eyes on the wide open front door as it slowly swings back closed, creaking all the while. A lamp is shattered on the floor next to the couch, the tea kettle on its side on the kitchen floor. The couch is pushed out of whack, now sitting cockeyed and right up against the small, square table that once held the lamp. 

A loud whelp comes from outside. Sam snaps his head back toward the door as fear floods through his body. A blood curdling scream follows soon after and Sam’s heart falls to his feet. Bucky. He rushes toward the door and throws it open, stopping dead in his tracks as he catches a silhouette in the moonlight. Bucky is on all fours in the dirt, his head down between his arms. His breathing is heavy and ragged between his screams as his fingers dig into the dirt beneath him.

Bucky snaps his head up suddenly as the muscles in his back flex and ripple, his body contorting in unnatural ways. He screams again as his shoulders roll with the pain and his head falls forward again. His body jerks in an awkward way as his muscles tense. Tears stain his cheeks as he cries out, his screams becoming strained as they dissolve into deep growls. His head snaps up again and that’s when Sam sees it. 

The high, full moon splashes light over Bucky’s crumpled body as he turns. His ears go from round and human to long and pointy. Fur coats his body as he jerks and stiffens. Bucky lifts his hand from the ground and Sam watches as it morphs into a large paw, long, sharp, black nails elongating from the tips. This is so different from what Sam had seen before. Within the blink of an eye, Bucky would go from human to wolf, wolf to human. No fuss. But this? This is painful. This is slow and agonizing. This is the curse. 

Sam snaps back into the present and runs from the porch to Bucky’s side. He kneels beside him, placing both hands on Bucky’s back and side, “Bucky,”

“Don’t!” Bucky shouts, scrambling away from him, “Go back inside.” He grunts as his words become strained, “Sa-am, ple-please, go.”

He screams in agony again and Sam’s eyes go wide as the man before him dissolves into pure beast. Bucky’s long, dark hair literally shrinks away, replaced by more grey and white fur. His screams morph into a howl as his head contorts, that sweet, almost boyish face turning animalistic. His teeth sharpen as he barks and growls, spit and slobber dripping from them and wetting the dirt. 

Sam watches in horror as the transformation completes underneath the bright moon. His breath is shallow and shaky as the animal bays at the moon loudly, standing on its hind legs. It falls to its front paws seconds later with a thud, its tail swishing back and forth as it sniffs at the ground. Sam stands slowly, never taking his eyes off of it, and starts to back his way toward the house, praying all the while. 

A twig snaps in the woods off to the left and they both snap their heads toward it. Sam freezes for just a second before shuffling backward, not expecting the step of the porch that soon. He slams his heel into it, losing his balance and crashes down to the wooden porch with a very loud, very noticeable thud. Fucking great. 

The animal snaps around to face him, dropping his head in an aggressive stance as it trains its eyes on the vulnerable Sam. Sam’s mouth drops open as he stares back into its empty eyes, taken aback by how different they seem. Even in wolf form, they were always deep and full of warmth, love even. But now, they were flat, dark - cold. There was no sign of Bucky left. 

Sam watches as it stalks toward him, its heavy feet thudding against the dirt and gravel as it moves. Its growl is low, rumbling through its chest as it approaches. Its ears are laid back on its head, head low as it snarls at him, snapping its jaws as it barks. Sam stands quickly and takes a defensive stance, balling his fists as his mother's words float through his mind. You can’t punch your way out of everything, Samuel Thomas! 

“I don’t know if you can hear me Bucky,” Sam starts, his breathing heavy as adrenaline flushes through his veins, “But you need to back the fuck up. I will punch the shit out of you.”

It stops, snarling and baring its teeth at Sam before standing up on its hind legs. Sam swallows harshly as his eyes slowly move up it’s towering frame, “Oh fuck.”

Loud honking comes from the forest as artificial light breaks through the trees. The werewolf falls back on all fours and turns, hunching toward the ground as the lights wash over him. A black truck screeches to a stop, gravel, dirt, and dust whipping up around it as the back end swings out from behind it. Steve swings open the door, the butt of a gun stuck in the crook of his arm, the barrel trained on the wild animal in front of him. 

“Hey!” He shouts, drawing its attention from Sam, “Beat it, Bucky.”

It starts growling again, turning from Sam and trotting slightly toward Steve. It barks loudly at him, swiping his paw in the dirt as it lowers its head and tucks its ears back again. It lunges toward Steve but he doesn’t flinch. He shoots a warning shot in the ground toward its feet causing it to retreat slightly. It lunges again and Steve shoots again, this time grazing it on his hind leg. It yelps and takes off toward the treeline, Sam watches as the shrubs and smaller trees bend and break as it runs through them. 

“Shit,” Steve mumbles under his breath as he scans the trees for any sign of the animal returning, “You okay Sam?”

Sam nods quickly, swallowing again, “Yeah, I think, I think so.”

“Head back inside. I’ll watch out for him for a few minutes.”

Sam doesn't need to be told twice. He scurries back into the safety of the house and closes the door, before moving to the window to watch Steve pull his truck up to the house. He shuts it off and moves onto the porch, standing watch for a few minutes before finally coming inside. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t nip you or anything?” Steve asks, looking over his front before reaching out and running his hand along his arms.

“I’m good, he didn’t even get that close,” Sam says as Steve turns him around to check his back, “What did you shoot him with?”

“It’s just tranquilizer darts if he gets out of hand. Usually, he just runs off but some nights he gets… rowdy.” Steve lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hand through his long, blonde hair, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you here alone. With everything earlier, I just wanted to give you two some space. It totally slipped my mind that tonight was a full moon.”

Sam runs his hand over his head, “Jesus, I am in the middle of a movie.” 

Steve smiles as he scans Sam’s nearly naked body, “Listen, you should probably get some sleep. Sex with Bucky can really creep up on you if you’re not careful.”

Sam glances down, forgetting he’s in nothing but his boxers and throws his hands in front of his crotch. Embarrassment flushes through him, causing him to chuckle nervously, “Oh, sorry, this is probably awkward as fuck for you.”

“Not as much as you would think. I’ll keep an eye out for him, but we probably won’t see him again until the morning.”

Sam backs awkwardly toward the bedroom door, running his hand over his head again, “Oh shit,” he breathes as he stumbles into the door, “Sorry, I just… oh wait, this is your room, you wanna- I can stay on the couch, it’s really no problem. I-”

“It’s okay, just try and relax, okay?” Steve smiles, “Get some sleep.”

Sam nods quickly, “Yeah, okay. That’s… yeah. Good-good night.”

Sam backs into the room, shutting the door softly and falls back onto the mattress, covering his face with his hands. Full moons, werewolves, and hundred year old boyfriends. Sam Wilson sure knows how to pick ‘em. 

-----

The morning comes all too quickly for Sam. He cracks his eyes open as the sun spills into the room and over his heavy body. He sits up slowly, rubbing his face as he lets out a breath. His muscles are tight and still sore, his head throbbing with a sharp, pounding headache. The smell of tea overwhelms his senses and he glances to his left, finding a steaming cup sitting on the small nightstand. His clothes are washed and folded neatly in a pile on the small chair in the corner, shoes tucked right underneath. 

He grabs the cup and takes a sip, closing his eyes as the warmth of the liquid spreads through his body. He grabs his phone as he stands from the bed and scrolls through the thirteen missed texts and calls from Natasha and Wanda. He rolls his eyes before tossing the phone on the bed and heading into the bathroom.

He stops when he spots a third toothbrush in the holder, when yesterday, there were only two. A new towel and washcloth is thrown over the towel rack and a space is made on the countertop. He smiles. Steve must like him. 

Sam showers quickly and steps out of the room as he pulls his shirt over his head. Steve glances over his shoulder as he stands at the sink, washing a few random dishes, “Morning.”

“Morning,” Sam greets with a smile. “Thanks for the tea and the clean clothes. I didn’t uh, plan out my stay very well.”

Steve smiles gently, “It happens.”

“So um,” Sam starts, glancing around for Bucky, “Did he come back home or?”

Steve shakes his head, “Nope. This is the fun part after a full moon. We gotta go find him.”

Sam watches as Steve moves through the kitchen and toward the front door, “We gotta find him?” He questions as he follows the slightly taller man out into the morning.

“Yeah, he doesn’t really recognize anything when he turns like that. He just runs the woods until the sun comes up and then he falls out. He’s out here somewhere.”

“That’s why you live out here, then? Away from people?”

Steve nods as they step through the treeline behind the house, “Yep. So he doesn’t get hurt and he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

The two men move through the trees and grass, scanning the brush as they slowly make their way through the wooded area. It falls quiet between them, Sam stealing quick glances. He remembers the picture of the small person Steve used to be, versus the burly man he is now. He’s rugged now with long hair and a thick beard, the traces of the sickly man long gone. 

“So uh,” Sam starts as he glances off toward the trees, “How did you two meet?”

Steve drops his head as he kicks at the rocks below, “It was a long time ago. It was back in New York, upstate. I couldn’t sleep one night so I went for a walk and saw some naked guy in a lake.”

“Sounds familiar,” Sam laughs. “That was what, late thirties? Early forties?”

Steve smirks, “1942. How did you know that?”

“My friend Wanda, she’s an anthropologist and Sokovian, which means she is naturally drawn to the unnatural,” Sam laughs. “She uh, she’s into all of this kinda stuff. She found a little bit about you and Bucky through some message boards or something.”

“Ah,” Steve nods as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Modern technology just won’t let two hundred year old men live.”

Sam laughs, “It’s all loose information. Nobody can confirm anything, there’s like one picture of you from a few weeks ago, another from the early 2000s, and then one from like, 1940. You look like a completely different person, to be honest. Wanda had to show me the similarities between the pictures.”

“You sound close to her,” Steve starts, looking at him. “Wanda.”

“I am. I uh, I met her through her wife, Natasha. We’ve worked together for something like ten years now, so, yeah, they’re my buds.”

Steve smiles again as he drops his head, watching his feet as the push forward, “That sounds nice,” he says softly, “Bucky wishes we could have friends like that, but it’s, it’s just too dangerous.”

Sam looks over at him, catching the sudden change in his tone, “What does that mean?”

Steve takes a deep breath, expelling it through his nose, “It’s- we can’t have a bunch of people knowing about us, especially Bucky. If word gets out about him,” His words fall away as he shakes his head, “We just can’t do it.”

Sam stops, reaching out to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder to stop him, “So what are you saying? I can’t have them in my life anymore? That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Sam. Things are going to be different for you from now on, you just have to get used to it.”

“No.” Sam scoffs, shaking his head, “No, you don’t get to tell me what’s going to be different. They’re cool, okay? They’re not the kind of people who run their mouths about other people's business. We’ll be fine.”

“Oh, you think so? You think it’s not going to slip out that their best friend is mated with a hundred year old werewolf?” Steve furrows his brow as he purses his lips tightly, “If you choose to stay with us, they go. It’s that simple.”

“Ain’t shit that simple!” Sam shouts. “I have a life, a job, friends, family! I’m not going to give them up just because you say so. It’s not up to you.”

“I have protected him for seventy-seven years.” Steve says softly as he steps up to Sam, “If you think I’m going to let him get hurt over some fling-”

“Fling?” Sam repeats angrily, squaring up to him, “That’s what you think this is?”

Steve laughs, “Bucky’s taken plenty of lovers before, all named Sam, and not one of them worked out. And guess who’s been here every step of the way?”

“You know what man,” Sam starts before he’s cut off by a moan. 

They snap their heads at the sound and move toward the edge of a small hill. Bucky lays at the bottom, complete naked, curled in a ball. Sam and Steve rush toward him; Sam brushing Bucky’s tangled hair out of his face once they reach him, “Bucky? You okay?”

Bucky grunts in response as Steve glances over his battered body. He’s got a few nicks and scratches along his torso and sides, his hands and feet are covered in dirt and blood. He almost made it injury free. Steve places his hands on his thigh as he eyes a rather large, bloody wound. He squeezes gently and Bucky recoils, hissing as pain rips through him.

“Stay with him. I’m going to go back and get something to patch him up before we move him.”

Sam cuts his eyes toward him as Steve retreats and then returns his attention toward the woozy Bucky, “Sammy?” He croaks, smiling softly as he tries to roll over, “Sammy, baby.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t talk, okay?” Sam whispers, sweeping more hair out of his face, “Steve will be back to stitch you up.”

“I fell,” He says as he rolls over onto his back. 

Sam tilts his head as he glances over his face. That face is back. That sweet, boyish face. His eyes are back to their piercing blue - a bit cloudy, but warm, “You fell?” He asks softly, running his hand down Bucky’s cheek.

He nods, lifting his hand slowly and pointing toward the top of the hill, “This fucking hill gets me every time.”

Sam laughs as he glances over his shoulder, “Well, it’s never the fall that kills you.”

Bucky chuckles, his voice scratchy and dry, “One day, I honestly think it will.”

[tynct]

Midnight 

masterlist

summary: Haechans spontaneous middle of the night phone calls asking you to come over have been going on since even before you two had started dating

genre: fluff

words: 1.3k

warnings: none

a/n: sorry ive been gone for like 3 weeks but im back hjkl

The ringing of your phone has you jerking away, nearly knocking everything off of your nightstand as you desperately try to grab it. After a moment of struggling, your fingers wrap around the case and squint at the brightness when you bring it closer to your face.

Fullsun

Missed Call (5)

You blink at the screen in confusion before swiping on the notification to call him back, and you balance the phone on your ear as you lean your head back onto the pillow. You briefly wonder what had happened in order for him to blow up your phone, and you flinch when his loud voice bounces off the walls.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours!”

“It’s literally,” you glance at the time and sigh. “3 in the morning, Hyuck.”

He scoffs. “And? Midlife crises don’t have a time schedule.”

“You’re a child-”

“I’m an adult!”

The hysteria in his voice makes you sit up, tiredly rubbing at your eyes and swing your legs over the bed. A yawn escapes your lips as you mumble, “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“I’ll unlock the back door.”

The line goes dead and you shiver when your feet touch the cold floor. His spontaneous middle of the night phone calls asking you to come over have been going on since even before you two had started dating; he had even confessed during one of them, when you had shown up at his house to find him in the bathroom with a needle through his ear, claiming that he had gotten the sudden urge for another piercing and needed you to help him.

He had refused to cry even when you had accidentally stabbed his lobe with the earring, instead going to grip your waist as you stood between his legs. He then had surprised you with a kiss when you successfully replaced the needle with an earring of a sun you had gotten him a while back. It was unexpected, but not at the same time. You had been skirting around your feelings for a while, both too afraid to do anything about it.

At least, Haechan had been until sleep deprivation had given him the motivation he had needed. Your stomach had erupted in butterflies, and he stood up from the bathtub to push you against the counter and giggle against your lips that you like him.

You reminisce in the memory as you quietly push the door open to his house, and your breath catches in your throat when arms immediately engulf you in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmurs, before pulling you along and up the stairs. He soundlessly closes his door and you blink at his still figure lingering at the foot of the bed.

“Are you alright..?”

He nods, sitting down on the mattress and pulls you down with him. “Just a bad night, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His head shakes against your back. The growing concern in your chest has you craning your neck to peer down at him, and he offers a small smile when he notices you staring.

“Seriously, Haechan, you’re really worrying me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“You said you were having a midlife crises.”

His lips quirk up in amusement. “I was kind of lying about that.”

“What?” He silences your groan with a kiss to your cheek, and he lays back in satisfaction as a blush darkens your complexion. “That wasn’t fair; and don’t try to change the subject-”

“I’m fine! Really, Y/n.”

You roll your eyes as you turn around, sleep evading you as you stare up at his wall. There’s polaroids of the two of you on dates, a few of you making faces at the camera, and you grin at the one of a blur of Haechan. You had grabbed the polaroid from him and held it up right as he took a sip of his drink, and you don’t remember what you had said, but it must’ve been funny enough to make him snort the sprite out of his nose. His face is scrunched up, hand over his mouth and eyes screwed shut.

It doesn’t take Haechan long to fall asleep, and you try not to wake him as you slowly try to detach his arm from clinging to you. He sleepily reaches out when you manage to slip from his grasp, and just before you can take a step, he calls out your name and you wince at the volume.

“Haechan,” you hiss, and he blinks at you sleepily. He looks adorable, and if you weren’t worrying about his parents waking up, you’d reach over and ruffle his hair. “You need to be quiet.”

“Can’t you stay?” he asks, quieter this time, and your heart hurts at the way he’s peering up at you. He already knows your answer, because every time he asks, you always reply with the same, “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” and hug him before making your escape.

“You know I want to, Haechan, but..”

“I know,” he mumbles, and you wring your hands when he turns the other way and buries his face into the pillow. If you leave him like this, you know you’ll feel guilty when you get home. You know because it’s happened before, and you hadn’t gotten any sleep until he had sent you a screen full of heart emojis with a text at the bottom saying it was okay, so you take a breath as you round the bed and he stares up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought you were leaving.”

“If I stay, do you promise to tell me what’s wrong?”

He brightens for a moment until he process the rest of your sentence, and scoots over after a slight nod. Haechan sits up and watches as you crawl next to him, his expression morphing into one of embarrassment.

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“I just... I wanted to see you?” he immediately covers his face when your eyes widen. “I told you it was stupid!”

You nearly burst out laughing, and when he peeks through his fingers, you can’t help the laugh that pushes past your teeth at his red cheeks. “Haechan, oh my god-”

“I know I see you everyday, but I missed you when you left and I just ha-”

He stops mid word when you grab his wrists and pull them away from his face, and your heart skips at the cute pout he’s directing towards the ceiling.

“You’re so cute,” you coo, reaching to pinch his cheeks.

He doesn’t swat your hands away like you had thought he would, and you blink when he leans into your palm to cup his face. Haechan has showered you with affection even before you had started dating, but the way he’s looking at you with nothing but hearts in his eyes makes you freeze up.

“I love you,” he says softly, teeth digging into his lower lip.

You don’t realize you’re pulling him forward until he makes a noise when you kiss him, your mind a muddled mess as he grabs hold of your collar. Everything in you is screaming at you to tell him you feel the same, but all that comes out when he pulls back is a strangled, “oh my god you’re in love with me.”

He laughs lightly at your starstruck expression. “Does this mean you feel the same, or..?”

“You made me come all the way over here at 3 in the morning, act pouty when I try to leave, all to confess that you love me? How could I not feel the same, Haechan.”

“Oh, good,” he breathes. “I thought I was going to have to put out a dating application.”

He grins when you lightly punch his arm, and he catches your hand and smothers you in another hug. Haechan had been so worried, running scenarios of you leaving without returning his feelings, or you saying you don’t love him, he couldn’t sleep and panicked and called you for what felt like a hundred times. His heart is still racing when he lays down beside you, running his fingers through your hair and happily falls asleep with the thought of bragging to his friends that he had finally told you that he loved you.

[halfway-happyyy]

Wasted On Each Other

AN: This is a request from a dear mutual. 

That one where you join your boyfriend on the set of Castle Rock, and indulge in a cheeky game of hide and seek between the trees. S M U T ensues. Enjoy!

Word count: 2,467

When you awaken in the bright morning light, it is to the feeling of Bill’s fingertips tracing gentle patterns into the planes of your skin. He doesn’t say much, and he doesn’t linger long in one spot, but he does make sure to pay special attention to the rounded curves of your ass. “Turn over,” He murmurs, his voice low and heavy beneath the weight of recent slumber. You do as you’re told. Bill’s hand travels to the base of your throat where a violet bruise blooms in the flesh there. He smiles to himself when he spots the second one just below the lobe of your ear. “Did I make you feel good last night baby girl?”

           “You did.”

           His fingers dance lazily from the base of your throat, past your clavicle, to the already hardened bud of your nipple. His fingers leave trails of fire in their wake, and though you try not to, you squirm in anticipation under his touch. Bill bends his head to take a nipple into his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin there. He pulls away to blow a steady stream of cool air over the moist flesh, causing you to shiver violently next to him. He enjoys playing this game more than he lets on most of the time. He works his way down the length of your torso, slightly chapped lips pressing chaste kisses into your skin. His hair is long; quite possibly the longest you’ve ever seen it and watching him brush it away from his face turns you on even more. You watch him take a moment to palm the erection growing hard against the constraints of his boxers. Bill’s hand stills on his cock and you watch, eyes half-lidded as he sucks two long fingers into his mouth, gets them really good and wet, and teases mercilessly at the base of your slit.

           “Please, Bill.”

           Bill slides his fingers fully into you, and it’s all you can do to keep from crying out loud. “Please what, baby girl?”

           You throw your head back against the down pillows, hips rolling up to match the measured thrusts of his fingers. “More.”

           “More what?” But he knows. He’s known for a while, and in a moment, his fingers are gone, and you feel inexplicably empty. Bill’s fingers are in his mouth again, he groans lowly against them and it causes a moan to bubble up from the hollow of your throat. The moment passes, and the feeling of Bill inserting a third finger inside of you, almost sends you over the edge right then and there. He rests his forehead against your lower belly as he continues at a faster and harder pace. “Such a good girl, taking what I have to give you. Shall I add another one?” His forehead rests against your lower belly, and the words ghosting across your heated skin causes the breath to hitch in your throat.

           A sudden knock at his trailer door causes Bill’s ministrations to stop completely, and the loss is almost enough to have you scream out in frustration. “Bill! They needed you on set like… ten minutes ago.”

Bill drops his head to the mattress below you in defeat, a string of expletives flows freely from his mouth. Some in English, some in Swedish. “I’ll be out in five minutes Collin- I overslept.” He lifts his glassy gaze to yours and winks cheekily. Bill leans in to press a kiss to your lips, before extricating himself from the bed to slip into his clothing for the day. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” Bill groans quietly.

You feel sheepish; and although you mostly regret being the reason he’s late to his call-time, you also regret not being able to come shamelessly hard for him. “How are you going to get those pants on over that massive erection you’ve got there?”

Bill tilts his head back and elicits a laugh that causes a shiver to start at the base of your spine. “I’m sure I’ll find a way.” You watch as the fingers that were buried to the hilt inside of you only seconds ago, nimbly button up a green plaid shirt. He gives himself one last once-over in the mirror on the back of his door, and gestures to where you’re seated in bed. “You should come visit me on set today. I’ll be taking a break in the next few hours here and have half a mind to finish up where we left off.”

There is something about watching Bill hone his craft that is entirely transfixing to you. It’s the subtle way that he slips out of the skin you’re used to seeing him in, into a skin that is completely foreign to the both of you. It’s effortless; like breathing. This is one thing (out of thousands) that just comes naturally to him. It is a gift that, although had also been passed down to other siblings, also succeeds in setting Bill apart from the other three. “That’s lunch, you guys.” Michael pulls the headphones from his neck and gestures to Bill and the few other actors crowded around him. “Take 45 minutes, and we’ll meet back here around 2:45.” Michael clears his throat and gestures for Bill to come see him. “I’m not going to need to send a search party for you, am I?”

Bill’s gaze travels to his feet and he shakes his head, a sheepish grin stretches across his face. “’Course not, Mikey.”

“Forty-five minutes, hey?” You ask, shielding a hand over your eyes as the Massachusetts sun beats down on you. “Not much time for a romp in the old trailer, now is there?”

           Bill lets a moment pass between the pair of you before he shrugs. “Why would you assume we’d have to go back to the trailer in order for me to fuck you senseless?”

You swallow hard at this, and despite the warmth of the weather currently, his words cause goosebumps to rise in patterns in your skin. You clear your throat, arms crossed, and turn fully to him. “And what exactly did you have in mind then?”

“How about a quick game of hide and seek?”

It’s an innocent enough suggestion, but the way Bill broaches it makes you shiver in total anticipation. “You’re on, Skarsgård.” With that, he turns on his heel without a word, and you watch his figure becomes swallowed by the dense smattering of trees around you. You tentatively take a few steps forward and lose yourself as well. It’s easy enough to do; the only sound for miles around you are the firs swaying the wind, their branches gasping like the breaths out of one thousand souls.

“Where are you, baby girl?”

Bill’s voice finds you on the wind, causes you to turn in a circle and peer deeply into the vast, viridian ocean of trees. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a game now would it?” The sound of a stick snapping a few hundred yards from where you stand, causes you to jump uneasily on the spot. “And in full Bill fashion, you are going to pounce out of the bush and send me into the throes of heart failure.”

A laugh, loud and hearty disrupts the cocooned silence around you. “Just tell me where you are.”

“No.”

“No?” Bill asks incredulously.

“Why would I do that? Where would the fun in that be?”

“Forget the fun, darling! My next call-time is in thirty-five minutes!”

You kick a stray rock from your path and shrug your shoulders. “Do not forget that this was your idea Bill…”

You strain in the silence for any sound of twigs snapping, or leaves rustling, and you get complete and total silence in return. It becomes so quiet that it’s almost deafening. “Bill?” You call out, voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Gotcha!” Your boyfriend bursts through a gap in the trees, his cheeks flushed pink against his alabaster visage.

You double over, hands planted firmly to the tops of your knees. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, the thought of punching him square in the jaw crosses your mind multiple times. “You… are an asshole.”

Bill’s shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “It’s been said once or twice.” He eyes you for a moment, still slightly out of breath from his impromptu entrance. In seconds, he crosses the distance to where you stand and backs you up against a tree. You don’t have time to collect your thoughts before his mouth is on you. Everywhere. His lips leave trails of fire everywhere they ghost, as your skin scorches beneath their very touch. “You like teasing me?”

You lift your gaze to his, and nod ever so subtly. “It can be fun.”

Bill clears his throat before pulling you back from the tree and turning you around forcefully so that you’re facing it. “You know what else is fun?” You shake your head silently, though you have a pretty good idea of what he’s about to follow up with. “Punishing you for teasing me.” He reaches around to the waistband of your jeans, finds the button and zipper, and undoes both in a matter of seconds. “You deserve everything I’m about to do to you.” You hold your breath as Bill shucks the material from your legs in one swift motion. You rest your head against the bark of the tree, reveling in the sweet scent of the pine around you. Bill’s hand caresses your right ass cheek and in seconds he lifts it and slaps it down hard against the soft skin there. The sound reverberates off of the fauna around you and causes immediate goosebumps to bloom there. Bill’s fingers traverse the small bumps gently, as if he were reading braille, and then let’s loose another impossibly hard slap. You writhe against the tree, the woody texture grinding abrasively against your cheek. “I think you are entirely deserving of a few other ones, baby girl.” You close your eyes tight and grind your teeth together in anticipation of what’s about to happen. Your pussy aches at the thought, the urge to touch yourself is almost over-powering. He lets loose a flurry of slaps, each one more painful than the last. He does it until you are literally screaming out into the air before you. Bill’s lips find the crook of your neck, and he latches on tightly, causing another red bruise to form there. “Did that hurt baby?”

“Yes,” You whimper, your hand slowly making its way to your clit.

Bill catches this and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I need… I need something, Bill.”

Bill pulls his pants and boxers down, and in seconds his one hand has both of your arms pinned above your head. “You will not touch yourself unless I say, is this in any way unclear?”

You nod your head wordlessly.

“Hmm? Didn’t quite catch that.” He murmurs expectantly.

“Yes, sir.”

Bill spits into the palm of his hand and begins stroking the length of his cock. “That’s a good girl.” With his free hand, he traces invisible lines up and down the length of your torso starting from your armpit to your hip. You bite at the corner of your lip hard enough to draw blood. “Think you’ll have learned your lesson after this?” He hardly gives you a moment to answer before his cock is at your entrance. He teases you mercilessly there too; rubs the ever so sensitive head slowly and deliberately against the slick part of your slit.

Your eyes fall shut as you grind against him shamelessly. “Please Bill…” This particular utterance earns you another hard hit against your left ass cheek.

In seconds, Bill is inside of you. He stills his hips against your ass, and drops his head to your shoulder, letting loose a low growl. He begins at a relatively innocent enough pace; it’s an ebb and flow that never really grows old. It never ceases to drive you close to the brink of absolute insanity. His hands finally drop from your own- his way of letting you know that you are allowed to start touching yourself. You finger dances slowly down to your swollen clit, just pressing a fingertip to it causes a jolt of electricity to ripple violently through your body. Wordlessly, Bill starts to hammer into you, his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you over and over again. “Jesus fuck…”

           A primal scream rips from your throat loudly, and Bill’s hand instinctively travels your mouth and splays out against it, stopping the noise mid-scream. His lips are at the shell of your ear, his ivory teeth graze the sensitive skin there. “Do you want the entire production crew to hear me fuck you?” You shake your head earnestly. “If you want to come for me, you’re going to have to be as quiet as possible.” His hand drops from your mouth to your throat and your eyes widen as his long fingers tighten around the base of it. You press firm circles into your clit, while simultaneously meeting each of Bill’s thrusts with your own. His hand tightens incrementally around your throat as his orgasm nears. He’s cursing now, his forehead rests gently against the top of your shoulder. “I’m close baby girl,” He groans.

           The pressure of his hand around your throat helps to speed the orgasm looming seconds away from you. Waves of pleasure roil around in your belly, causing you to gasp out into the air before you. “Come for me Bill…” Though he is the one who has taken the reins this time around, you know him well enough to know that he cannot resist that particular combination of words. He throws his head back, a long, loud moan bubbles up from somewhere deep. You feel his hips still against your bare ass, and he comes into in you waves, each one stronger than the last, until he is totally empty. It’s all it takes before you are also falling to pieces against him, a muffled cry the only sound of pleasure from your lips. A chaste kiss is pressed to your neck before he pulls out of you, the sudden loss a foreign feeling. You pull your underwear and pants back up your legs, wincing as the denim brushes softly against the raw skin of your ass cheeks. You view him fully and take satisfaction in the notion that he is impossibly sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out.

           “Lesson learned?” Bill asks expectantly.

           You glance at the watch on the underside of your wrist and smile wryly at him. “Not even a little bit.”

[dontdoitluke]

We Could Be Heroes - Ch 10

Sky High AU, but instead, it’s a superhero University.

Summary: Ashton and Jenna practice their powers and Cherice is still a brat.

Chapter: 10/?

Word Count: 1,495

CHAPTER INDEX

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Ashton was so excited about his new piece of equipment that he stayed up all night studying different chemical formulas to practice with. Jenna insisted on staying up with him, no matter how hard he tried to get her to at least take a nap. 

“You’ve got classes in the morning, petal.”

“And?”

“You need to sleep!”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Ashton rolled his eyes and turned back to his laptop, scrolling through the different lists of healing stones and their properties. Persey had taken him and Jenna to the library earlier that day after he had relaxed a little and helped him pick out a few books about different healing minerals and how they could be used, but he had already skimmed through them and wanted to learn more. His desk was in a state of absolute chaos; open books strewn about, a notepad with chemical formulas listed in no particular order, and a plate with a half-eaten cheese sandwich, just to start with.

Jenna was sat on the floor next to him with a styrofoam cup, practicing with her own powers. She was currently attempting to create a full cup of water from a single drop, but the damn thing didn’t want to grow. It just kept dancing around in the bottom of the cup like a caterpillar on ecstasy. She sighed and set the cup to the side.

“Want me to make you another coffee?”

He hummed in response, holding his cup out to her while writing down the formula for a calcium supplement. As she stood in front of the mini fridge and began mixing his favorite cold brew flavors together, Ashton opened his kit and retrieved his device, which he had now taken to calling a ChemDex. He started small, punching in the formulas for different rocks that were commonly found outside, using his power to bring them to life. His plan was to create a pile of common stones, then he’d move on to creating precious gems. Once he was confident in his ability to do those things with ease, he’d practice making more vitamins, then he would work on combining different stones and vitamins together, and lastly, he would practice shaping and smoothing what he’d created.

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Three hours and 6 coffee refills later, his desk was now covered with piles and piles of his creations. Shaping these stones was much more difficult than shaping the ones he found in nature, and it took him quite a few tries before he could even smooth out a common pebble. He’d never used his power this much in one go before and he was beginning to feel it draining rapidly, but he was determined to make one last creation before he was drained completely. He quickly punched in two more formulas before putting his ChemDex away, then manipulated the energy into a small lump of silver and a rough-cut orange sapphire. He fused the silver into the sapphire before stretching it into a delicate chain while making sure that each link was connected carefully and after inspecting his work, he wearily turned to Jenna, who was still on the floor next to him.

“Jenna.”

“Ashton.”

“Can you turn around for a second?”

She looked up at him and smirked. “Why? You gonna get naked?”

A soft pink blush spread across his cheeks as he stuck his tongue out at her. “Just turn around, dork.”

Once she was facing away from him, he unhooked the chain and placed it around her neck.

“Thanks for staying with me tonight, petal.”

“Wait, what is this? Ash, what are you getting all syrupy for? That’s Drunk Jenna’s job.”

“No reason, I’m just...” He trailed off, blinking slowly. He didn’t realize how exhausted he was until now. “Happy... that you’re here to... uh, I appreciate you.”

“Ok, you need to sleep NOW,” Jenna said authoritatively, standing and holding on to his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get to bed.”

Without arguing, he allowed her to lead him to his mattress. His hands felt numb and his toes were cold, his entire body felt completely drained of any energy he may have had before as his head fell heavily onto his pillow. Jenna pulled his blanket over him and kissed his forehead.

“Hey, where do you... hah, where ya going?”

“I’m gonna clean up a little.”

He weakly grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him on the bed. “No, stay. Please?”

“Ah, how could I say no?” she laughed as she climbed under the covers with him, snuggling into his side. “The necklace is beautiful, Ash. Thank you.”

“N-no, you...” Ashton was so tired he couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer, and he could barely form words. He’d never felt this tired before, even after working long shifts at his job, and he hated it.

“Ok, cheeseboy, you’re literally running on empty. Sleep now, make yourself a B12 vitamin tomorrow.”

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Compared to Cherice’s room, Ashton’s desk chaos was mild. She had empty food containers strewn about in all corners of the room, balled up papers spilling over the waste basket and out onto the floor, dirty clothes piled on the bed and in her chair, and somehow, she ended up getting a slice of pizza with a single bite taken out of it stuck to the ceiling.  

Her room wasn’t the only part of her that was a complete mess. Her hair was tangled, her lips were cracked and dry from picking at the skin, her face was oily and breaking out, and she hadn’t showered since her breakdown on the roof. Currently, she sat hunched over a notebook on her desk, angrily scribbling plans for her take-down of the school.

There was a knock at the door, but she didn’t answer. She stayed bent over her notebook and didn’t acknowledge the visitor until the door opened and a tower of plastic cups was knocked over.

“Excuse you, I didn’t invite you in!”

“Chill out, it’s just me,” Dee said, kicking some of the cups out of her way. “Girl, it’s only been two days, how did you manage to get a month’s worth of trash built up in two days?”

Cherice rolled her eyes and turned back to her notebook. “I strive to be the best in everything, no matter what it is I’m doing. That includes making messes.”  

Unhappy with the notes she was working on, she ripped the page out of her book, balled it up, and tossed it behind her, where it softly bounced off of Dee’s shoulder.  

“And I’m going to make one hell of a mess of this entire fucking school.”

Dee shook her head and sighed. “I still think you’re taking this too far, Cher. I mean, so what if that girl made you look dumb, like you said? You know you’re not dumb, that’s all that matters.”

“What matters is that I get my point across!” Cherice stood from her chair and stomped over to Dee, pointing her finger at herself. “All those people momentarily forgot who the hell I was, but I’m going to make them remember. I’ll make them remember, and then I’ll make sure they never fucking forget me.”

“Look, if I’m being honest,” Dee sighed, taking a step back and scrunching her nose. “ First of all, you need to brush your teeth. Second, you were the one who gave Persey an attitude to begin with. I think maybe, if you were going to do anything at all, you should-”

“Okay, stop talking now, you’re boring me.” Cherice waved her hand and angrily slid back into her seat to work on her notes. “Leave, if you have nothing important to say, but if you’re going to stay here, help me decide who I should punish first.”

Dee shook her head and moved to sit at the head of Cherice’s bed, scooting a pile of balled up papers out of the way with her foot.  

“You’re making a mistake.”

Cherice was no longer listening. Dee craned her neck to see what she was working on ever so seriously, and upon closer inspection, she realized it was a list of names and classrooms. There was also a map of the school campus with big arrows drawn with black and red markers pointing at the different buildings. It seemed to be depicting where she should start and finish her attack.

“This is fucking stupid,” Dee mumbled under her breath.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said,” she started shakily. “I said, ‘This is fucking stupid’. I’m sorry. It’s whack, man... you’re planning to attack the entire school just because you got embarrassed. I think it’s stupid. And childish.”

Cherice’s face twisted into a look that screamed fury, but then she relaxed suddenly, sighing and setting down her pencil. “Yeah, I know it’s stupid. In the back of my head, I know. I just... I’m so angry. And I can’t give up now.”

“You’re too proud to give up.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t kill anyone, Cher. Just... rough them up a bit.”

“No promises.”

[1dimagineclub]

Daddy Niall Imagine

“You Are My Light”

I had never really been into blondes, but I quite liked the one sleeping soundly beside me, so dead-tired that his rest could not be disturbed by anything, not even the sunlight slipping through the cracks in the blinds and dancing right over his eyes. He wasn’t a natural blonde, of course, and had been letting his roots grow out (much to Lou’s dismay). That was how I reasoned through the fact that I had literally never considered dating a boy with blonde hair until I met him. His spirit must have screamed “I’m naturally a brunette!” to mine, and voila, we fell in love. Right. That had to be it.

I was absentmindedly running my fingers through said hair before I even realized it, but he just hummed quietly in pleasure at the feeling and squeezed the pillow in his arms tighter to his chest. Today I was absolutely scatterbrained because it was Christmas Eve and hidden in the closet was a present for Niall that would either delight or depress him—there was no in between. I was pregnant. Niall and I had been together for long enough now that it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but One Direction was still constantly touring and recording and flying out of the country for one simple interview, and that was the exact reason that he hadn’t even proposed to me yet. That had been the subject of many a “heated debate”, me insisting that I didn’t give a shit about a big extravagant wedding and that I just wanted to be able to say we were married, and Niall refusing to settle for a simple trip to the courthouse to get it done. I could only imagine how he would react to just the idea that we raise a kid together right now, let alone the stone cold truth that it was actually going to happen.

"Babe,“ his voice was rough from the past eleven or so hours of disuse, and made me jump a foot high in surprise. Pressing a hand to my chest to calm my suddenly rapidly beating heart, I leaned over his shoulder and peered down at his face. "You’re awake?” His bright blue eyes were half-lidded, but definitely staring back at me, and he said mockingly, “No, I’m talking directly to you in my sleep.” I punched him in the arm, and I didn’t really hold back, but that still didn’t mean it hurt. He made an oomph sound just to humor me, which only had me punching him again. “Baaabe,” he whined, “stop hitting me, kiss me, kiss me instead!” And even though he was so childish, he was really so cute, so I obliged him and directed my lips onto his. He was smiling softly when I pulled away and probably about to go off on a tangent about how much he loved me. I cut him off with, “Ew, you have really bad morning breath.”

I hopped off the bed and darted out of the room, giggling as he lunged after me in retaliation to my insult but just barely missed. “You’re cooking breakfast, by the way!” I yelled behind me, and he groaned loud enough that I heard him from all the way down the hall and now halfway down the stairs. In the living room, I flopped down onto the couch and stared at the Christmas tree in the corner. Niall had barely made it home in time for today, with his busy schedule and then a huge storm delaying his flight by several days, so we hadn’t been able to go buy a real tree like we usually did. Even if we had gone out and gotten one as soon as his plane had arrived the evening before, we wouldn’t have had time to decorate it. So I had settled for a fake, pre-lit tree, and to be honest, it was really putting a damper on my Christmas spirit.

"It’s still a pretty tree, babe,“ Niall said as he walked in. Last time I had seen him he had been naked under our blankets, now he was in a cozy sweater and some joggers. He looked very warm, so I held out my arms as an invitation for him to come cuddle with me. Instead of immediately attaching himself to my side, Niall raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was cooking breakfast?” He teased me. I narrowed my eyes at him and replied, “Don’t be a smart ass, Horan. Come here. I’m cold.” But then he was spinning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction, tossing a “Nah, I’m hungry,” back at me.

I followed him into the kitchen and picked up the conversation that had almost started earlier—"I know the tree is pretty, but it doesn’t smell right. It doesn’t smell like anything.“ Niall didn’t answer me, so I continued urgently, "It doesn’t smell like Christmas, Niall! Do you even care!” I was being over-dramatic, honestly, but at the time it was an extremely upsetting realization. Blame the hormones. “No, (Y/N), I don’t care that much.” I was readying to smack him when Niall quickly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t care that it doesn’t smell like Christmas, I’m just glad I’m here with you.”

What an idiot. What an absolute idiot. I hated when he said stupid romantic shit like that…except I didn’t. There was a huge, sloppy grin on my face, and I rewarded his sweetness with another kiss. I was slowly dragging my hands up his chest and around his shoulders to wind behind his neck when I felt Niall’s hands cheekily slip from my waist to my bum and palm the flesh there. “Hey!” I hopped away from him, “No copping a feel before breakfast, Niall James Horan!” The blonde rolled his eyes, reaching out to me again, but I swatted his hands away. “Baby, don’t be like this, it’s been so long,” Niall pouted, but there was one person on this planet who was not susceptible to his puppy dog face and thankfully, that was me. I shook my head firmly. “Don’t you think you’ve been naughty enough this year? I’m already going to be surprised if Santa brings you any gifts,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. I mean, I was trying really hard. I managed to skip out of the kitchen before I smiled at my own words.

"Well now I’m not asking what you want to eat!“ Niall shouted after me, "I hope you want pancakes ‘cause that’s what I’m making and that’s final!” I had wanted pancakes. This worked out perfectly. An hour later, Niall was in the shower while I cleaned up the huge mess he had made. I didn’t mind that much, though, having to clean up after him, because breakfast had tasted especially good this morning. I don’t know why—I had forced Niall to make me pancakes a million times before—but today they were the best I had ever had. Because of that Niall had earned himself a grab of my ass without repercussions as he had passed me at the sink on his way back upstairs, and I hoped that would hold him over until tonight, at least.

I finished drying the last plate and set it in the cabinet on top of the others, then I hurried to the bedroom to change. Niall and I were heading into town to do some last minute shopping before we had to go to his parents’ house tomorrow afternoon and then make an appearance at some of his friends’ party that night. I slammed the door open, positive that Niall was still in the bathroom, but was surprised to find him already dressed and sitting on the mattress with his back to me. He scrambled to his feet when I loudly entered the room, but took almost a full minute before turning to face me, his face bright red. “Are you okay?” I asked him, my tone suspicious, and he nodded frantically. “I’m perfect! I wasn’t doing nothing!” My face was blank. “So you were doing something,” I said, now speaking in a monotone. His mouth opened and shut stupidly with no words coming out, and I could see in his eyes the wheels of his tiny brain turning, overworking themselves as he struggled with what to say. “Don’t make fun of my grammar!” was what he decided on before frowning and pushing past me out of the room.

Well that wasn’t fishy at all. I quickly walked over to the closet, dropping to my knees and pushing a few pairs of shoes and a random sheet out of the way before my eyes beheld the (immaculately) wrapped gift I had hidden there and I gave a huge sigh of relief, having been worried he had found it and opened it and that was why he was acting so weird… But with that theory out the window, I was nervous all over again about whatever had gotten him so flustered. I swallowed thickly, forcing down my anxiety, and piled everything back on top of the tiny box. Then I pulled on my warmest clothes and a pair of boots, grabbed my coat, and joined Niall at the door. He had visibly calmed down, but now he looked annoyed.

"What?“ I snapped, although not really angry. I tweaked his nose as I fell into my natural spot at his side. "Nothing,” he grunted, “just that you took about fifty hours to get dressed.” I shrugged, not really concerned with that, and grabbed the gray beanie out of his hands to pull onto my head. For about half a second he looked like he was going to take it back, then his eyes softened. “You look cuter in it than I do,” he said. I just nodded. Niall grabbed a random snapback off the entryway table and slipped it on, instead. “You look cuter in that, anyways,” I complimented him, before swinging the door open and trudging out into the snow.

Niall pulled the Range Rover up into a gas station (or a petrol station, as he called it) not too long later. He filled up the tank while I waited in the passenger’s seat messing about on my phone, then tapped on the window as he passed by and headed straight inside instead of getting back in the car. I frowned, since it was too cold and quiet in here, but I knew it was colder outside of the car and the warmth in the shop just wasn’t worth the thirty second walk. Niall was quick though, sensing my irritation I’m sure, and was soon getting back into the car with a bag in tow. “What did you even get?” Niall dug out a package of chips (crisps) and tossed whatever else into the backseat, not feeling the need to say after that. “Snacks! Niall, we just ate…” I trailed off, thinking that I knew very well just how much this boy could put away, and also that I didn’t really care that much.

The day went by slowly, and by time we were dragging our feet up the walkway to the door with several bags weighing us down, it felt like we had been gone for weeks. At least that’s how I felt. Niall, actually, was shifting restlessly from one foot to the other, and he kept running his hands through his hair and looking from side to side as if somebody was watching us. “You’re being weird again,” I commented as I unlocked the door, but once again he just went by me and offered no explanation. He dropped the bags he’d been carrying at the foot of the stairs before then taking them two at a time, ascending quickly, yelling “I’m gonna get the wrapping paper!”

We spent almost two hours wrapping gifts for his family and friends. I was actually quite good at wrapping, but he wasn’t really helping, just making a mess, taping random bits of paper to random patches of either of our skin, and tapping me with the tip of a marker when I wasn’t looking, much to my annoyance. When we had finished we decided to take them out to the car now instead of waiting until tomorrow, and coming back inside, I asked Niall to start a fire before disappearing up into our room. As was tradition, we would be giving one gift tonight. I sat on the floor of our closet with the tiny box in my hands for much longer than I realized. The scent of hot chocolate hit me before Niall kicked the door open gently and walked in carrying two mugs of it.

“What are you doing, cutie?” He asked, kneeling down beside me. I held up the present, trying to act like it was no big deal, but my hands were shaking. He furrowed his brow curiously, but didn’t press me for a real answer. “That the present I get to open soon?” Words escaped me and all I could do was nod. He nodded back, and silence fell over us both, until he held out one of the hot chocolates to me. “Come on down, it’s warm in the living room,” he said as my (very cold) fingers wrapped around the cup. With that and the present in hand, I followed him to the couch, where I cuddled into his side and we watched the fire crackling. Although I was extremely nervous, I felt so safe and comfortable in Niall’s arms, right where I was meant to be.

When I had sipped the last of my drink, I leaned forward to place my mug on the coffee table and grabbed Niall’s present off the floor where I had left it. He was shifting in his seat, too, but when I faced him again, he wasn’t holding out a gift for me. “Where’s mine?” I asked, and only later did I think that I sounded like a spoiled brat just then. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, his face tight. “It’s in a hiding place,” he said, “lemme open mine first.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Niall had already snatched the box out of my hands and started to attack the wrapping paper before I could. “Niall, wait,” I said, putting my hands around his bicep, but it was too late. He was already staring down at the tiny shoes, no expression on his face.

“Um…they’re cleats,” I tried. Niall was mute. In fact, he was like a statue, silent and still and I swear to god, he wasn’t breathing. With nothing left to lose, I whispered, “They’re cleats…for our baby.” When he still didn’t answer me, I looked down and wanted to cry at the way his large hands cradled the shoes so delicately, like they were going to break if he moved his finger even an inch. My own hands slid over to cover both of his. “We’re having a baby.” He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t looking at me, either, but I still nodded. Finally, Niall’s head rose and our eyes met. His were filled with tears.

"I’m pregnant.“ I had known for weeks now, but that was the first time I had actually said the words. Niall gently placed the baby cleats on the table, and I hoped he would give me a hug and a kiss and tell me how happy he was and how much he loved me, but instead he was drawing away from me. I felt tears of shame and sadness and anger all in one pressing against my eyes, about to fall, when suddenly I realized—Niall was sliding off the couch. He was moving onto one knee. He was reaching in his pocket, pulling out a black velvet box, and opening it to present the most beautiful ring I had literally ever seen. And he was quietly saying,

"(Y/N), we’re going to get married.” Maybe I was supposed to say something, maybe I was supposed to say “yes” (even though he didn’t ask me, not that I minded). Instead I dropped down to my knees and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my face into him and coating his neck with tears and kisses. A second later he was trying to pry me off of him, and when he did it was just long enough to kiss my fingertip and slip on the ring before I launched off again. We fell onto the carpet, wrapped up in each other, lips pressing to any inch of skin we could reach, but before we could lose ourselves to the passion of it all, Niall asked, “That does mean yes, right?” I laughed and grabbed his hand, pressing it to my belly. “That does mean you’re happy about the baby, right?” His answer was to duck his head and kiss the spot where his hand was. My heart warmed at the affection. “The cleats were a good touch,” he whispered against my stomach, “I can’t wait to teach them how to play football with me.” I ran my fingers through his hair, imagining it, Niall and our son or daughter kicking a ball around in the backyard.

"Oh! Wait! I need you to open one more present!“ His eyes lit up as he leaped to his feet and took off out of the room, through the hall, and…to the front door? "Be right back!” He slipped out into the snowy night in just a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and some socks, and I felt cold for him. I also felt a little annoyed again, at him just taking off in the middle of such a perfect moment, but I was prepared to be annoyed at him for the rest of my life. He returned, shivering violently and carrying the bag from the gas station. “What the hell?!” I cried as he tossed it into my hands and fell down on the ground beside me. Niall just winked and nodded at the bag, urging me to look inside. I read the word “pine” on the package before I actually pulled out the object and saw what it was, and I didn’t think I had it in me to cry about anything else, but—like I said, he was just so cute. “It’s an air freshener!” He announced, as if I didn’t know, “So it can smell like Christmas.” As thankful for it as I was, I dropped the gift in my lap and leaned forward to cup Niall’s cheeks and give him another big kiss. He was smiling into it, wider than I had ever known him to smile before.

"So, you’re happy right? Really happy?“ I waited for the next question, the one that I knew was coming, and Niall asked, "Does that mean we can have sex now?” To tease him, I looked off to the side and tapped a finger to my chin, as if I had to consider it. “I guess so,” I finally answered him, “but only because I love you.”