#<- (i warned you. i warned you about the extreme yapping that came with this) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

indigogvf · 6 months

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Need

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of SA!!! smut (minors dni), alcohol. If I missed anything please let me know!

Summary: You and Jake have never seen eye to eye, but when a guy creeps you out at his house party, does that change?

A/N: awful summary lol sorry I’m so tired and have been wanting to post this for ages. This is not as good as I wanted it to be, or as long, but I do not have the patience for that. For some reason the ideas were just not flowing for this fic, so I feel like it’s kinda jumpy. Sorry about that!! Also, my requests are open!! Anyway, enough of me yapping. Enjoy!!

This was not your thing; parties. It’s not that you hated them, but a nine pm bed time meant a lot more to you. Drinking made you sleepy. However, parties are especially not your thing when Jake is there. Even more so when they’re hosted at his house.

Much like tonight.

You can’t deny Josh’s puppy dog eyes for very long though, and you weren’t going to let one person ruin your night. He’s hosting the party anyway, so he has much more important things to worry about than trying to piss you off. You thought.

You thought wrong. As always.

The night begun smoothly. You felt confident and sexy, your dress hugging you in all the right places. You weren’t planning on getting into anyones pants tonight, but it felt nice to know you could. With that being said, you also felt nervous. You and Jake couldn’t get along at all; you can be civil when needs be, but it never lasts long. If you can’t get along sober, you doubt adding copious amounts of alcohol is going to have a positive impact.

You made your rounds of everyone, making sure to say hi to the people you knew; also making sure to keep well away from Jake. You and Jake have been holding the battle of “who can be the meanest” for quite some time now, and you honestly can’t even remember how it started, but you strongly disliked him. You’re both extremely stubborn, so as much as you feel bad for feuding with your best friends’ brother, you wouldn’t be caught dead making amends. And neither would he.

Obviously your first point of call after saying hello was getting yourself a nice, strong drink. A necessity, in your opinion. Definitely a necessity when jake’s around. You’d already lost Josh, who you came with, and you were now left to fend for yourself. You did know a good amount of people, but everyone knew everyone else more than you knew them, so you weren’t really sure where to start.

You wondered back to the main event, scouring the room for someone you know well enough to join their conversation. As you were looking around, you caught the eyes of Jake. His shirt was buttoned up by two buttons, max. You couldn’t quite see due to the darkness of the room. Speaking of, he’s wearing sunglasses. What a douchebag you thought. I mean, seriously? Sunglasses? In an almost pitch black room?

His hair was falling nicely, though. The sunglasses were giving his hair something to flow against, and it was framing his face well. It doesn’t matter how much you hate him, you will always be jealous of his hair.

He smirks at you, mischief written all over his face. You roll your eyes and move on. You promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with Jake tonight, and you really did feel bad. You know how hard it is for them to navigate this.

However, Jake had other intentions. He started walking over; you knew you were well within your rights to walk away, but you also knew that this would happen at some point, so you might as well get it over and done with.

“You look cute.” He mentioned sarcastically, gesturing to your dress.

“Thanks. Wish I could say the same about you.” You retorted with an eye roll, taking a step away from him. You wanted as much distance between you as possible.

“Oh, c’mon. You and I both know you like what you see.” He suggested with a cocky smirk, pointing at himself. He took a step closer, closing the space between you that you had just made.

“Seriously? You have that big of an ego? Take a look at yourself for once. You’re wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Could you look like more of a dick?” You replied, taking a sip of your drink. You knew he enjoyed this a lot more than you did; you were easier to piss off.

“Look at myself? Look at you! You look like you’re begging to take someone home in that dress.” He laughed, throwing his head back. ‘Always so dramatic’ you thought.

“Yeah? Well at least I could take someone home if I wanted to, which I don’t, for the record. You can’t, not when you look like as much of an uptight prick as you.” You argued. You felt like steam was coming out of your ears. He always had to dig deep. Every time.

He began responding, but you had already started walking away. Like you said, you’d promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with him tonight, so you really didn’t want it to go any further.

You spot danny and Sam and take this opportunity to distract yourself. “hey guys, you having fun?” You asked as you waved at them.

“Hey y/n, did Josh ditch you? Already?” Sam queried, turning to face you. Danny sniggered beside him in response.

“Well, yeah. But I promise that’s not why I came to chat.” You knew that whatever Sam was suggesting was just a joke, but you also knew that if Josh hadn’t of ditched you, the overwhelming joy you felt when you saw them probably wouldn’t have been as intense.

“Yeah, whatever. How’s things with Jake? I see you’ve continued your feud.” Danny joined, subtly looking over to Sam. They know exactly how to wind you up. You will never understand how they find the humour in this situation; if it was the other way round, you would’ve grown impatient a long time ago.

“Yeah, but that’s done for the night. I’m really not in the mood for it to carry on tonight.” You said as you grabbed your drink to take another sip, taking a seat next to danny.

“Are you ever in the mood for jake, though? You say that every time, and every time the feud continues.” Sam giggled.

“You know, he’s right. How did this ‘feud’ even start? I can’t quite remember.” Danny said. Him and Sam were now laughing a little too hard considering how unfunny their comments were. At least you didn’t find them funny.

“You know what guys, maybe I will carry it on. Just for you.” You remarked, pointing your finger at both of them to further emphasis your point.

“Oh, we would love to see that.” Laughed Danny, turning to face you completely.

“Maybe you should just fuck it out. I mean, if all of our mutual friends can agree on that, maybe we’re right.” Sam added, without laughing. He was serious. He seriously suggested you ‘fuck it out’. With his brother.

“You guys suck. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another drink.” You began walking away as they laughed; obviously happy with themselves for managing to wind you up.

You made your way into the kitchen, your eyes landing on a guy stood in the corner. You smiled politely as you walked past him to make your next drink. “You on your own?” He asked. Are. You. Serious. You thought. You were not in the mood for this.

“Uh, no. My friends are just in the living room, where everyone else is.” You said bluntly. You hoped that gave him the hint that you were definitely not interested.

Obviously, it didn’t.

“Your ass looks beautiful in that dress.” He said boldly as he took a step closer, looking you up and down.

“Thanks, but I’m not looking for any of that tonight.” You smiled in an attempt to soften the blow, whilst taking a step back.

“C’mon, you can’t wear a dress like that and not want some attention.” He laughed, reaching his hand out to brush your arm. You quickly retracted.

You were starting to panic slightly as it was clear he wasn’t getting the hint. “I’m okay, really.” You reiterated, taking another step back. You were now against the counter, awaiting his next move.

As he started to take a step towards you, Jake walked into the kitchen, pausing as he witnesses the guy come closer to you; again trying to reach out and touch your arm. He flicks his eyes to you, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You really hope he can see what you’re trying to tell him.

“Hey, what are you doing, man?” Jake asked, flicking his eyes between you as he walked further into the kitchen.

“That’s none of your business, man.” He mocks, drawing his attention back to you.

“It is when it’s my house. Did she tell you she was interested in you before you cornered her?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He folded his arms and leaned on the counter, raising his eyebrows as he impatiently waited for his response.

“Well, I- no, but-“

“Enough said. Get off of her and get out of my house.” He spoke with a steady tone, pushing himself off of the counter and moving out of the way, further prompting the guy to leave.

You breathed out, not even realising you were holding your breath. “Thank you so much.” You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to ground yourself.

“Yeah, are you okay? Did anything else happen?” He asked with panic laced in his voice. He walked over to you and moved his eyes over you to check that you were okay.

You looked up at him. His eyes were laced with concern and worry; they looked softer, It was different. He always looked at you with such annoyance, but you liked this. “I’m okay. Thank you, Jake.” You replied. You really were okay, but unwanted men coming onto you will never get less daunting.

“I’m sorry that happened. If you need anything, you let me know. My bedroom is upstairs to the right if you need some quiet.” He said softly as he ran his hand through his hair, letting it fall back into place.

You were taken back, to say the least. You and Jake were never nice to each other unless absolutely necessary, but even then you were still throwing dirty looks around like there was no tomorrow. It was a moment of clarity. You would see Jake acting somewhat similarly to others; always so kind and caring. But never towards you. You wondered what it would be like to not dislike him so much, and to actually get along with him. Although this only gave you a small taste of that, you liked this a lot more than hating him. You still hated him though. You’re way too stubborn to admit that you might like him, even to yourself.

“Thanks. I’m okay, I promise. I always get shaken up when this type of stuff happens. I just need another drink.” You laughed a little, trying to soften the mood slightly. You picked up your cup and started to fiddle with it. You felt too awkward just standing there.

“Yeah, sure. Help yourself. Do you want me to stay with you and then help you find josh? So you’re not on your own again?” He suggested as he walked past you to get a drink out of the fridge.

What the fuck? You thought. You knew Jake could be nice, but you never expected him to be this caring. Not in a million years.

“Uh, yeah, actually. Would that be okay? I don’t want to steal you from your own party.” You mumbled, starting to pour a concoction of various kinds of alcohol into your cup.

“Of course. I know where he is, so it shouldn’t take long.” He reassured you with a soft smile, brushing past you to find a bottle opener for his drink.

You grabbed your drink and went with Jake to find Josh. Once you found him, you said your thank you’s to Jake and walked over to Josh.

“Was that Jake? Were you just with Jake? Did you just smile at Jake?” He asked, an excited grin on his face. He got up from his seat, eager to find out if your battle with Jake has finally ended or not.

“Yes, yes, and yes. Some guy was being a massive creep and Jake saw and kicked him out. He was really sweet, actually. It was weird.” You said, taking a sip of your drink whilst stealing Josh’s seat.

“Does this mean you both like each other?” He said, completely disregarding the small mention of the creepy guy; you didn’t blame him, though. This was exciting for him. His smile widened as he got more eager by the second.

“No. I still hate him.” You said firmly. You were not admitted the fact that you maybe, slightly like Jake. Not happening.

“Ugh, c’mon, y/n. You know he can be nice, you’ve seen it yourself. He’s even been nice to you now. Without any prompting.” He pleaded as he sat on the edge of the table opposite you.

You leaned back against the sofa and sighed. You looked at Josh’s face and you could see he was desperate for this to finally be over. “Okay, fine. I don’t like Jake. However, I’m not as inclined to gauge his eyes out when I look at him anymore. Happy?” You reasoned.

He shook his head and smiled. “Fine. This is a starting point, then.”

“Sure. You can call it that if you’d like.” You giggled. It was clear he was a little frustrated, all he wanted was his best friend and brother to get along, but it was fun to wind him up sometimes.

As the night went on, people slowly startled to filter out the party, only leaving a few people. You were thinking about jake, and how he helped you. You wanted to repay him, so you took yourself to the kitchen and began clearing up some of the used cups. You figured he would appreciate this, since no one likes cleaning up the morning after whilst morbidly hungover.

You were nearly done when Jake walked in. He paused in the doorway, “What are you doing?” He asked, not moving.

“Oh, hi. I’m just cleaning up a little bit. Thought it might help you out tomorrow when you’re hungover.” You stated, smiling at him and continuing to throw away all the trash laying around.

“You don’t have to do that.” He began to walk over and attempted to take the bag from your hands. You pulled your hands away.

“You didn’t have to help me earlier.” You looked up at him and sent him a reassuring smile. You really wanted to help out.

“How are you doing after earlier?” He asked, ignoring your previous statement.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you helped.” You replied, setting the bag down on the floor when there was no more trash left on the counters.

“How are you getting home?” He wondered, picking up the trash bag and moving it to the doorway so he could take it out later.

“Oh, I was just going to get a taxi.” You said as you fiddled with your rings, again feeling awkward with this new tone of conversation between you.

He shook his head, “No, you can stay here.”

“Why do you care how I get home?” You retort. It came out slightly harsher than you expected, and he took a step back.

“Why do i care?” He repeated. “Look, we might not see eye to eye, but what happened to you tonight wasn’t okay. He might not have done anything, but who knows what might’ve happened if i didn’t show up at the right time. I know you know that, and I also know that you’re going to have overwhelming anxiety about getting into a taxi, by yourself, at night. I’m not willing to let you do that whilst you’re also drunk and vulnerable. What kind of person would that make me if I didn’t care?” He said, raising his voice. He began to walk away from you, making his way out of the kitchen.

You rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to pull him back into the kitchen, “Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, I guess I’m just used to keeping my guard up around you.” You apologised, looking up at him. You realised you were still holding his hand, so you hesitatingly let go. You’d never really been this close to him, and you weren’t complaining. You studied his features, moving your eyes around his face.

“I know, me too. I’m sorry for shouting, it’s just annoying because I was being nice, and you sort of threw it back in my face.” He said as he did the same to you; studying your features.

You wondered what it would be like to kiss him, or what his calloused hands would feel like against your bare skin, or how he would feel insid- stop. You still hate him. You thought.

He wondered the same about you. He wondered how soft your lips would feel; how you would taste. He was willing to find out. In a moment of boldness, he began to move closer to your lips. He was getting closer, closer, clo-

“Hey guys- wait a minute. Did I just interrupt something?” Josh said as he walked into the kitchen, a smirk beginning to spread on his lips.

You both moved away from each other, not wanting to let on that you were making up with each other; or whatever you were doing. You weren’t really sure what just happened.

“No.” You both spoke at the same time.

“I was just clearing up, and then Jake came in. That’s all. What were you going to say?” You stuttered. You fiddled with your rings again, looking down at your hands.

“Oh. Well, I’m going to bed. I’m staying here tonight by the way, Jake.” He turned around and made his way out of the kitchen and upstairs to the spare room.

You giggled at Josh as you turned round to face jake again. “So, am I staying here, too?” You asked. You felt bad asking, but he was pretty clear on his opinions about you getting a taxi.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He responded. He reached his hand to the back of his neck, playing with his hair. He obviously felt nervous. Or awkward. Probably awkward, you assumed.

“Yeah, thanks. Can I take a shower?” You asked. You felt gross, you always did after drinking. You noticed his eyes move over you, sparking a warm feeling in your belly. You tried to push the feeling away, not prepared or ready to feel this way about him on such short notice.

“Yeah. The bathroom is upstairs, opposite the top of the stairs. The towels are in the cupboard next to it.” He replied whilst pointing upstairs. Neither of you moved, you just started at each other. You were both equally as confused at what happened before Josh interrupted. Was it a moment? Was it not a moment? Who knows.

After a few seconds of painfully awkward silence and staring, you left to go upstairs and take a shower. You found the towels in the cupboard that Jake mentioned, and turned the shower on. You adjusted the temperature so that it was a little warmer, and peeled off your dress. It felt good to get it off of you; you never found tight dresses as the most comfortable option.

You tied your hair up in a bun after seeing the stingy amount of options for shampoo. You also didn’t fancy sleeping in wet hair. You stepped in and immediately relaxed at the feeling of the water hitting your back, making every effort to not get your hair wet. You took your time washing yourself, not wanting to leave the warmth of the shower. Your mind wondered to Jake. You’d always thought he was attractive, but you were never attracted to him. Probably because he was never nice to you. But after tonight, after seeing the caring side you’d only ever observed, you felt differently about him. It was hard to dislike him as much when you had been on the receiving end of his selflessness and kindness. You wondered what this meant for your relationship with him. Were you still enemies? Or were you walking into new territory with him? You weren’t sure.

Eventually, you decided to get out and began drying yourself. You wrapped the towel around you and tried to find Jake to ask where you would be sleeping, and if he had any clothes for you to wear. Both questions which should’ve been asked before you got in the shower, you realised. You found him in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed in just his trousers. You’d never seen him shirtless, and you’d never say no to seeing it again; that’s for sure.

You knocked gently on the door despite it being open, to let him know of your presence. He looked up and raked his eyes down your figure. You felt exposed.

“Hey. I was just wondering if you had anything for me to wear, and where I was sleeping?” You asked, speaking gently to not wake Josh up.

“Uh, yeah. You can sleep in here, if that’s okay with you. I’ll find you some clothes to wear, just give me a second.” He said, getting up from his bed and making his way to the chest of drawers to find some clothes for you.

“But where will you sleep?” You asked, feeling confused as you watched him dig through his clothes.

“On the couch downstairs. Here, you can wear this top. You can wear these pyjama bottoms if you want, but they’re a little big on me, so they’ll probably be big on you, too.” He muttered as he handed the pile of clothes to you. Your hands brushed together, the small amount of contact bringing back the warm feeling in your stomach. Stop. You thought.

“No, I’ll take the couch. I can sleep anywhere, it’s okay.” You responded, moving your hand to the top of your towel to stop it from slipping.

“Honestly, just take the bed. Take it as my formal apology for the last however many years of shit.” He smirked, attempting to make a joke out of the ‘however many years’ of torture.

“Oh, we’re apologising now?” You countered, returning his smirk.

“I think it’s about time, don’t you? Anyway, it’s your turn now. I just made my apology.” He said as he moved closer to you, leaning on the doorframe.

“Not to erase all of our progress, but that was not a very good apology.” You argued. God, he looked good without a shirt. You thought.

“I think it was a great apology. I’m offering you to sleep in a nice, warm, comfortable bed.” He retorted, gesturing to the bed behind him.

You shook your head and laughed. “It didn’t even include the word “sorry”, Jake.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry, y/n. Better?” He said, still sporting the same smirk.

You wanted to kiss him. You’d been trying to ignore this fleeting thought since you were in the kitchen together, but it was becoming insufferable. You squeezed your legs together at the sheer thought of him touching you.

“Better.” You responded, “I’m sorry, too. Truly.” You said, setting the tone to something more serious than before. You had less of an issue apologising to him now that he had initiated it, but you were so ready for this battle to be over between you.

He stared at you, not really knowing where to go from here. He also really wanted to kiss you; he thought you looked good in only a towel, and imagined how easy it would be to remove it. He imagined how you’d look underneath it, having to stop himself from finding out. He could see the swell of your breasts under the towel and felt himself starting to get hard. He saw your eyes flick down to his lips and linger there, before moving back up to his eyes. Does she want this, too? He thought. He took this as a signal that you felt the same and leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You were in shock. You had been wanting this, but you did not realise he wanted it, too. You leaned into the kiss, feeding your hands into his hair. You tugged it at the roots slightly, earning a little groan from Jake in response. This felt so wrong; but it made sense. You wondered if all of your friends were right; maybe it was just built up sexual tension.

His hands moved round your waist, squeezing at your skin. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip begging for entrance, which you granted. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling and grabbed his arms, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You needed him, and he needed you just as much. You felt his hard-on press against your lower stomach. You could feel yourself getting wet at the thought of him inside of you, and reached your hand down and palmed him through his trousers. He sucked in a breath and pulled away, “Stop. Are you sure you want this?” He asked with concern and desperation written all over his face, pushing you away from him slightly.

“Yes, Jake.” You whined. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that; you were aiming for a steadier, firmer tone, but you found it hard to care, It’s not like you weren’t getting a little impatient.

He leaned back in, kissing you with more passion than before. He moved his hands to the top of the towel, silently asking you to take it off. You obliged, taking your hands away from his neck and unravelled it, letting it slide down your body.

He moved his eyes over your body, groaning at the site of you. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and kissing you again.

You moved your hands to his belt a second time, undoing the buckle and chucking it on the floor. You undid the buttons and he slid them off, stepping out of them and kicking them out of the way. You saw his growing bulge through his boxers; you wouldn’t be lying if you said your mouth started watering at the sight. You wanted to taste him.

So you did just that. You got down on your knees, using his thighs as an anchor to ensure you didn’t keel over; that would be embarrassing. He looked down at you, his jaw slack and his hair draped around his face. He took his hand and gently cupped your cheek, slowly guiding your head forward. “You want a taste, baby?” He whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nodded your head yes whilst you took your hands to the tops of his boxers, he stopped you. Again.

“Words.” He demanded, tightening his grip on your jaw.

“Yes, I wanna taste you.” You muttered, still gripping his boxers.

He nodded, giving you permission to carry on. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. There was pre cum dripping out of the head, and you swear you almost started dribbling at the sight.

You leaned forward, his hand still pressed against your face, and licked up the side. He took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, moving his hand so that he could grip your hair.

You took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. You wanted to tease him. You moved down slowly, hollowing your cheeks ever so slightly. “Ah, fuck. Don’t tease.” He uttered. His breathing was starting to get irregular as you continued down his length.

He was getting impatient. He needed to be inside of you, and you were taking too long. He moved his hand to the back of your head, edging you forward and testing the waters. You hummed around his cock, giving him approval.

He moved your head forward, forcing you to take almost all of him into your mouth. He was huge; to say the least. You hollowed your cheeks as much as you could as he created a rhythm for you. You moved your hand from his thigh to the base of his cock, jerking him off slowly as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

He hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him. His hand faltered as he threw his head back, “Jesus, y/n.” He growled, pulling your hair harshly. You could start to feel him pulsing in your mouth, and you knew he was getting close. He was panting, at this point. His hair was sticking to his face and his jaw was slack. He looked hot, and the need you’ve been feeling for him has just increased by an obscene amount.

Almost as if he could sense your increasing desire, he pulled you off of him. “I nearly couldn’t stop myself.” He admitted sheepishly whilst he helped you off of your knees, bringing you in for another kiss. He could taste himself on your tongue; he could’ve come if he carried on, the images of you on your knees flooding his head.

“Get on the bed.” He uttered, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto the floor. You obliged, swaying your hips as you walked over to the bed.

He joined you on the bed and pushed your legs further apart, “Now it’s my turn to taste you. You want me to taste how sweet you are, honey?” He whispered as he placed soft kisses around your dripping cunt.

You moaned at the sheer thought of his mouth on you, “Yes, please.” You whined, moving your legs further apart as a way to prompt him.

He liked a stripe down you, causing your hips to buck into his mouth at the sudden sensation. You grabbed his hair in your hands, tugging slightly. “Eager, are we? I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunted, smirking to himself at the thought of getting you so worked up.

Your cheeks turned a crimson colour from embarrassment. “Please, do something. I need you.” You pleaded. It was getting too much now; you just needed something, badly.

“Be patient.” He muttered into you, pressing his mouth against you again. He circled your clit with his tongue, and with no warning, pushed his fingers into you; setting a relentless pace. The noise you made was inhuman, and as a reminder of the sleeping beauty next door, Jake smacked his hand on your thigh. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to hide the noises coming from you.

The rate at which he was pumping his calloused fingers was sending you to the edge at an embarrassing pace; he could feel you squeezing his fingers, “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” He asked, somehow pumping his fingers even faster than before.

He sucked on your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You were trying to speak, but you were sure your words were incoherent. Your orgasm was imminent; you were bucking your hips, desperate to come. His fingers hit a particular spot within you, and a wave of pleasure crashed into you full force. You were chanting his name like a mantra, though you were sure it made no sense. He took his fingers out of you and began lapping you up, striving to collect every little bit of your orgasm on his tongue. “So sweet.” He groaned.

You tried to push his head away; but he was stronger than you and carried on. “Can you give me another one? I know you can, sweet girl.” He prompted, pushing his fingers back inside of you and, yet again, setting a relentless pace.

“I need you, Jake.” You begged, still trying to pry his head away from yourself. You threw your head back into the pillows as the slight pain of overstimulated faded, being replaced with pleasure. “God, Jake.” You moaned.

“You gonna come around my fingers again, hm?” He taunted, placing his mouth back on your clit straight away.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes.” You whimpered, feeling your second orgasm approach quicker by the second.

“See? I knew you could do it for me.” He remarked, “C’mon, sweet girl. You can do it. Just one more and then you can have my cock, yeah?”

His words of encouragement egged you on, and you pulled at his hair in an attempt to bring him even closer. He groaned into you; the vibrations sending you over the edge. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. You were beginning to wonder why you hadn’t listened to your friends because you did not want to wait any longer for him, and you were already half way there.

He pulled his head away, and slowed down the pace of his fingers, slowly working you through your high. He climbed on top of you, and the cold metal of his necklaces touching your chest sent a chill down your body.

You leaned in, starting a heated kiss with him. You couldn’t get enough of him; eager to feel him inside of you. He moved down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking harshly. You arched your back into him, “Please, Jake. Please, I need you so badly.” You cried, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You moved your hand down to his cock and stroked him softly, “you want my cock, baby?” He uttered, trying to conceal the groan he let out from such a delicate touch.

“I can’t take it any longer, I need you, Jake.” You demanded, quickening your pace on his hard cock. He could’ve come right there and then; the combination of your touch and your shameless begging making it hard to control himself. It was painful, and he wondered how he didn’t just fuck you up against the wall the second you removed the towel.

He removed your hand, replacing them with his own, giving himself a few languid strokes before guiding it to your entrance. “You sure about this?” He asked, his tone switching from demanding to concerned.

“Jake, if you don’t fuck me right now, I might go insane.” You stated, looking up at him with pure desperation. You genuinely thought you were going to combust with how impatient you were getting.

He needed no further confirmation, and thrusted into you. You yelped at the feeling of him; the burning sensation from his cock stretching you out catching you off guard.

“Shit, y/n. You feel so good. So ready for me.” He panted, setting an unforgiving pace. His thrusts were deep, and reached all the right places.

You wrapped your arm around his back and dug your nails into him, needing something to grip onto. He groaned at the feeling, gripping the sheets beneath him. You could feel yourself getting closer already, and so could he, “Are you close? I can feel you- fuck, I can feel you squeezing me.” He groaned into your neck, “I wont last much longer if you keep doing that.” He moaned as he started to suck on your neck, leaving reminders of tonight for tomorrow.

You tried to respond, but the immense pleasure you were feeling caused your mind to go blank. You were trying to hold your orgasm off; not wanting this to end, but to no avail, your third orgasm came crashing down. You dragged your hands down jakes back, most definitely leaving scratches for him to discover tomorrow. He fucked you through your high; not faltering once, whilst whispering sweet words of encouragement into your ear, “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You came down from your high, feeling utterly fucked out. “Can you do one more for me? I know you can- fuck, just one more, please?” He said, his steady facade slipping in an instant.

“Jake, I can’t. It hurts.” You pleaded. On one hand, you never wanted this to end. But on the other hand, you were exhausted and the overstimulation hurt.

He moved his hand down to your clit, circling his fingers around it quickly. “You said that last time, and you did. Stop being pathetic.” He growled, leaning his head into your chest to start sucking on your nipple.

Pain turned into pleasure; as usual, and your fourth orgasm was fast approaching. “You can do it, please do it.” He begged, his hips faltering as he tried to hold off his orgasm. “I need to feel you come around my cock.” He pleaded, quickening his fingers which were circling your sensitive clit.

He toyed with your clit faster, silently pleading with you to hurry up.

It worked.

Although not as intense as the last three, you were still sure you were sent to some other dimension as your fourth orgasm hit you. You could feel jakes hips faltering as he fucked you through your orgasm, whilst also keenly chasing his own.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come, y/n. Where do you want it?” He asked, his face screwed up and seconds away from coming.

“Inside! Please, I wanna feel you fill me up.” You urged as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips stopped, and he let out a guttural moan that you wish you could play on repeat. You pulled his head away from your neck, trying to see his face as his come filled you up. His hair was stuck to his face with sweat, and his cheeks were a crimson red.

He collapsed on top of you, his heavy breaths heating you up even more. You brushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ears, wanting to see his fucked out face.

He rolled off of you and got up to the bathroom, leaving you on your own to reflect on what just happened. When he came back, he had a wash cloth and kneeled beside you to clean you up. “You okay?” He questioned gently, stroking the outside of your thigh.

“Yeah. Just tired, is all.” You replied, smiling at him. He thought you looked cute; sprawled out on his bed looking all fucked out and tired.

He discarded the cloth and came to lay next to you, pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your leg around his waist, and absentmindedly started to draw patterns on his bare chest.

“Thank you. For helping me earlier.” You mentioned quietly. You felt bad. Now that you had seen, first hand, just how caring he is, you felt bad for the way you had previously treated him.

“Look, y/n,” he sighed, “I’m not a bad person. I know we haven’t gotten along for some time now, but it doesn’t feel good to think that you assumed I’d ever leave someone to fend for themselves in that type of situation; or any type of bad situation. I personally think I just adequately apologised by making you come four times, but I think you’d disagree. So, I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, and for all of the comments I’ve made towards you. I’ll be honest, I’ve seen the way you are towards others; the real you, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that. Now I know that you’re a great person, and always have been.” He confessed, stroking your hair softly. You were overwhelmed, to say the least. You never expected to make up with Jake so fast; let alone going from hating him, to having sex with him, all in one night.

“I’m sorry, too. I know, and knew, you weren’t a bad person. If we’re sharing secrets now, I’ve wanted to make it up to you for a while, but I was too stubborn. I would agree that you adequately apologised, but hearing you say the words made it a lot better. The best apology I’ve ever received, if you will.” You giggled softly, admiring his face. He always thought you were attractive, but seeing you in this knew light made it different for him. He wasn’t just attracted to the way you looked anymore, but you as a person, too.

You wondered what this meant for both of you. You knew you at least liked each other now, but you wanted to know him. The small taste of the real Jake you had gotten tonight was simply not enough.

“What does this mean for us? Are we friends now?” He queried, a frown appearing on his face.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you take me out to dinner and we can find out?” You countered, your heart rate increasing at your sudden boldness. He stopped stroking your hair and looked at you with a grin.

“Deal.” He agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. You pulled away, nuzzling your head into his chest with a giddy smile plastered on your face.

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anxiousdreamcore · 22 days

Note

I saw that recent post you made writing out how you view all the Avatar characters, and in it, you mentioned that your opinion of the characters has changed a lot in the past year and a half (I can't believe it's been that long since ATWOW!)

So how did your opinion of the characters change and why? Who changed the most radically? I'd love to hear your thought process!

Warning: yapping ahead

My opinion changed as I began consuming content from different people in the fanbase, as I sadly started out my journey relegated to mostly the recom side of the fandom.

A very specific vision I’ve formed was one of him and Neytiri. Two individuals forced to be close by circumstance, and not necessarily liking each other but they’re known each other for so long that they know each other, you know? The way I see it, they can’t pretend to be strangers, and their argument in the high ground comics, which is the only time any of the children oppose Neytiri makes me think that this is the dynamic going on between them.

Being a Spider fan outside of the recom space was a horrible experience for many of my mutuals, and I heard from more than one person that just liking the character earned them death threats, so I kept to the only space where he was actually liked, which uh…may or may not have been a bit of an echo chamber.

First months after ATWOW came out the opinions were extremely polarising and there was little depth to go around. I realised later on though, I didn’t have to pick a side and didn’t have to force myself to forgive Quaritch, because I never wanted to. I didn’t have to see him as either a 🥺baby gworl🥺 or an emotionless monstrosity.

As I said before, the essays made by Quaritch fans sold me at first. They seemed to provide a lot of proof and I was on board with the identity crisis theory, but as time went on I believed it less and less. Looking at the movie with fresh eyes months later, I formed and opinion of my own and that is — That recom Quaritch is an amalgamation of his past self and the Na’vi instincts/perspective of his new body. He’s a fucked up soup that is, in a way, different than his human predecessor but not different enough to be considered a wholly separate creature. If human Quaritch was a dying garden then recom Quaritch is that same garden decayed to the core, with one single flower emerging amongst the rot, not yet consumed by it. (That flower being his fatherhood obv)

I went from seeing him as a man perhaps capable of redemption and seeing value in Pandora, to a man who, while not enjoying it per ce, obviously doesn’t give much of a damn about the moon or its habitat or its many cultures. All that matters to Quaritch is that these things matter to his son, so he’ll entertain them and go easy on the destruction, just for him. He doesn’t yet accept Pandora, not fully, but he accepts that Spider does so.

The way I began to see it, Socorro is somewhat his only functioning organ. A breathing lung in an otherwise dead body. Miles hasn’t felt anything but manic happiness and rage for as long as we knew him on screen, and that only changed when he stood in the boy’s presence, constantly challenged by him, and brought out of his comfort zone over and over again. He needs him to be remotely alive and likeable to the audience. He needs him to be something more than a chained army dog.

That brings me to my next point; my other big change in perspective was one of his dynamic with Spider. The more I analysed the franchise the more I came to conclusion that Miles is just an unbearable softie for him, and it was really the deleted scenes and the fact that Spider has a new bow in the ikran taming scene that sold me. He not just likes Spider, he loves him, to death. His sacrifices might not seem sufficient, but for his character, they‘re very much drastic, as Miles is traditionally not a loving person.

Quaritch is canonically a traitor to the RDA because he jeopardised his mission three times in a row, all for a single child. His inner father and colonel are constantly fighting each other, as he knows what he should be focusing on, but can’t resist being a father; having priorities of his own. He was an old fool who thought he could have his cake and eat it too; make Spider safe and happy and be a colonel at the same time, but in the end he made up his mind on what matters more, and it’s Spider. The way I see it now is; Quaritch is only truly loyal to Spider. He can hate it, but he can’t run from it.

#atwow #avatar way of water #atwow quaritch #recom quaritch #miles quaritch #atwow spider #spider socorro #avatar spider #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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odiesdayoff · 4 months

Text

The Winner Is...

pair: Robert Fischer x fem!reader

summary: Robert Fischer's stuck judging this year's Miss America Pageant. That doesn't mean he can't use his position to his advantage.

warnings: extremely dubious consent!! (heed the warnings!); mean/condescending Robert Fischer; anal; blowjobs; deepthroating; unprotected sex; a bit of misogyny; power imbalance

made reader from Georgia because I've been watching a lot of Kim of Queens. I've never written a lot of this before so I hope you can enjoy <3 this is also on Ao3 so yea... feedback always appreciated!

but also your consumption is your fault so if you don't like the content well then you should not have skipped/ignored the warnings

ALSO happy valentine's day from me :)

“In your opinion, what is a way that young women can lead successful lives in traditionally male-dominated professions?” Miss America from 2003 spoke clearly into the microphone. She wore her winning sash across her chest and a sparkling dress.

On her left, a former professional basketball player crossed her arms and sat back. She won the finals for her team two years in a row and now she was stuck judging brainless, but beautiful women being asked sexist questions in the veil of feminism and the uplifting of women. It didn’t matter, though. She was getting paid.

On the right of Miss America 2003, Robert Fischer leaned on the judge’s table with his hands folded. Ever since he fumbled the business deal with Eclipse Solutions, Maurice thought that the best form of punishment was to take his spot as a judge in this competition. Initially, Robert thought that it wasn’t much of a punishment, but after a long week of nonstop noise and hearing these women yap about how they were going to change the world, he understood why his father made him.

The hard-on he was sporting towards the beginning of the competition was long gone. He couldn’t bear to look at any of them anymore. Even during the swimsuit portion, for God’s sake.

Your smile never fell. The swimsuit you chose emphasized your breasts and slimmed your waist. Saying that you chose it was an exaggeration, your coach said that if you could catch the eyes of Fischer and Johnson, who your coach was convinced was a lesbian, you would have it in the bag. You still weren’t too sure about it. Knowing that your body was getting exposed to millions of people over the television was enough to raise your anxiety.

Attempting to not look like a total fool, you took a deep breath and nodded in response to her question. “Well, as someone who is in the career path of accounting, I have faced a lot of adversarial coworkers and peers. I believe that the best way that young women can gain success is to keep their self-confidence and never stop allowing themselves to learn and grow both professionally and personally. The best way to prove your doubters wrong is to excel in the path that you choose.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were saying, but you had hoped that it came across as something really intelligent to the judges. This was a question you had practiced for so long with your coach, but your mind drew a blank.

Robert held back a laugh or at least a scoff. There’s no way he would hire you. With a face like that and the way you spoke, there’s no way that you knew how to do anything within the range of taxes or money. Probably a case of affirmative action, he was sure. Either that or you sucked the right man’s dick to get to where you were now.

Miss America 2003 grinned. “Thank you, Miss Georgia. What a lovely way of thinking. I wish you the best of luck! Mr. Fischer, do you have a question?”

Robert’s bright blue eyes pierced into yours, despite the fair amount of distance from each other. He leaned into his mic. “Do you believe that you get respected more or less because of your appearance?”

The question felt like a double-edged sword. The last thing the general public wanted to hear was that you thought you were beautiful. It weirded people out to acknowledge your beauty, according to your coach.

“While I do think that appearance does affect the way that strangers treat others, it’s in your personality and how you treat others that matters. For me, it doesn’t matter what someone looks like for me to respect them. People that base how they treat others based on looks aren’t worth your time.” You had only hoped that the foundation you had on was holding back the sweat threatening to fall down your forehead. Robert Fischer had been asking the most condescending and borderline rude questions to everyone. It was bound to happen to you, too.

“Mm. Thank you.” He didn’t look amused.

Music began to play and the audience cheered. You smiled again at the judges' table before leaving the stage in the T walk. Once you were off stage and out of sight of both the judges and the audience, you let out a sigh and released the way that you were sucking in your stomach. You had been doing pageants like this ever since you were a little girl and now, your dream of being in this competition was real. Why did it feel so humiliating?

There was only one final day. It was the evening gown portion and the announcement of Miss America for the year. After that, you could finally relax. That is, unless you won and would immediately have to start your training for Miss Universe. Maybe you didn’t want to relax, after all.

By the time the sun fell, most of the contestants were either spending their last night together in their hotel rooms and doing spa nights while the rest decided to go out to the clubs. You were advised not to befriend any of them by your coach to avoid feeling guilty when you eventually won and they lost. Now, you were alone at a nearby bar nursing a beer and listening to the band playing. It was a cover band of The Killers. Mr. Brightside was the current song getting butchered by the young singer.

It was freeing to be out of dresses and swimsuits and finally not showing off your body. You wore loose jeans and a top with a jacket over it. If they didn’t know you, nobody would even know that you were who you were.

You felt someone sit next to you. In a bar of several open seats, of course, they chose the one basically on top of you. They waved the bartender down and ordered a whiskey. The voice was familiar, one that was ringing in your head all day. You faced him to confirm your suspicions. Robert fucking Fischer.

The drink in your hand was what you tried to focus on. “Not very talkative off stage, huh?” It would be rude to ignore him, you knew that.

You shrugged. “My social battery is drained.” While it was partially the truth, he was the last person you wanted to be speaking to.

“You know,” he swirled the whiskey in his glass, “it’s between you and Miss California.” He took a generous sip of his drink as he let the information sink in.

Excitement and guilt mixed in your stomach. “You shouldn’t say that. We shouldn’t even be speaking, Mr. Fischer.” You finished your drink and stood from the barstool. His hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped you from taking a step away.

“You wanna win, don’t you?” You sat back down, mostly involuntarily, and met his eyes with your own again. They were almost hypnotizing. “I can make that happen.”

“What do you mean?” Questions ran through your head. Was he asking for a bribe? Maybe he had some sort of bet running on you winning.

He smirked at the sight of your intrigue. “This whole competition’s about who’s the best woman, right? They’re still forgetting about the most important thing that makes a woman.” He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath against your skin. “How well they can fuck.”

You waited a moment to make sure that he was being serious, hoping that he wasn’t. The lustful look in his eyes didn’t tell you that he was joking at all. “You’re disgusting.”

“Even if I am, I’m the deciding factor on whether you go down in history as a winner or as nobody at all.” He finished his drink and stood up, fixing his tie. “Johnson likes you. Miss 2003 wants California. It’s all up to me.”

If he was lying, rejecting him wouldn’t mean much in the long run. If he wasn’t, you probably would’ve spent the rest of your life regretting taking him to bed. “Someone will see us going to the hotel together.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you one of his room keys. “Room 704. Wait ten minutes and then come up.” Without saying another word, he dropped some cash on the bar for his drink and left.

The room key felt heavy in your hand. Was winning worth anything if it wasn’t honest? He better have a decent-sized dick if you were really going to do this.

You felt a hand tap your shoulder. “Y/n L/n? Oh my god, I’m such a big fan! I’ve been watching the whole pageant with my daughter, she loves you!” A woman shook your hand, feeling a bit too formal. The guilt grew in your stomach. How could you be a role model for little girls like this? “Can I have a picture?”

Despite your appearance, you nodded. The room key burned a hole in your pocket as you fixed your hair and took a picture with the woman. Hopefully, the dim light of the bar made you look better than you felt.

It had already been fifteen minutes since Robert had left. You finally paid for your drink and headed for the hotel. With each step, your anxiety grew. The elevator rose to the seventh floor and you stopped in front of 704. Instead of knocking, you pulled the room key out and inserted it into the door. The light flashed green and you pushed it open.

Robert was sitting at the edge of the bed without his clothes, stroking himself and staring at the door until you finally walked in. “You’re late.” You kept your eyes around his, trying to prevent yourself from looking any lower.

“I got caught up with something.” You took your jacket off and laid it on the office chair. Given his state of undress, you weren’t entirely sure whether or not you should strip now or wait for his instruction. He seemed like the type who was obsessed with control, especially in the bedroom. The last thing you needed was for him to get angry with you over something so trivial and ruin your chances.

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like you don’t really want this, don’t you? To win?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “I want it.”

He pointed to the floor right in front of him and spread his knees further apart. You didn’t respond, knowing it was most likely for nothing, and knelt in front of him. For the way that he acted, you would assume it was because he was overcompensating. God, you were wrong.

His free hand grabbed hold of your hair and pushed your head closer to his aching cock. He leaned back. “You’re not gonna win just by looking at it.” You held back from commenting on his attitude and kissed the blushing red tip, the same color as his lips.

You flattened your tongue against the underside of his head, allowing his precum and your saliva to mix. After hearing the slightest moan of pleasure from him, which was an exhale at best, you took a few inches of him into your mouth. His hand in your hair guided you back and forth along his length.

“That’s all you’re gonna take? I think you could do much better than that.” He taunted, not pushing you down and wanting you to do it voluntarily. “Or, I could just call down Miss California. She’d love to deepthroat me.”

You tried to relax your throat and took him deeper. He was big, much bigger than what you were used to, but you could take him. You inched deeper until your nose pressed against his lower stomach and your breathing was constricted. “Atta girl.” He smelled like the generic body soap the hotel offered with a mix of his cologne. If you could focus on breathing through your nose and sucking him off the best you could, this would be over quickly.

Hearing his heavy breathing and attempts to hide his whimpers sent shockwaves down your spine. You felt the warmth growing in between your legs the more you pleasured him. “I’m about to cum. You’ll swallow, right?”

While you couldn’t answer, you made a sound of agreement that vibrated down your throat. You’d need to do some vocal treatment and tea tonight so you still could speak tomorrow. “Fuck.” He gripped your hair tighter as he came, ropes of cum shooting down your throat.

He finally pulled out once he had fully finished. You wiped a trail of cum and spit from your lips and looked up to him. “Not bad. Though, I’ve had much better. I guess I overestimated you. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

“What does that mean?” You cocked a brow. It felt even more humiliating considering your position in front of him and the way that you could still taste the remnants of his semen coating your throat.

“Oh, come on. You get a high-paying job straight out of college at a Big 4? You’re either a genius, which I doubt considering half of the answers you’ve given so far, or you’ve slept your way into the job. Now, strip for me.” He spoke matter-of-factly. It was like he’d already convinced himself of his theories, even though they were far from the truth. Couldn’t imagine that a woman like you could make her way up the corporate ladder without the help of rich and successful parents.

There was no use in arguing, you told yourself and took your clothes off until you were standing naked in front of him. “How exactly is the winner chosen? Aren’t there scoresheets? You’re making it sound like it’s entirely based on personal preference.”

He laughed, this time, a genuine one. “Scoresheets are arbitrary. We make those up to align with who we like the best.” He gestured to the bed behind him with his head as he stood. You followed his order and sat on the edge where he had previously been. His tongue flicked around his lips as he got a good look at you, sitting there so obediently for him. “Didn’t even touch you yet and you’re already dripping.”

You gave him your best version of doe eyes that you could, following the instruction of your coach. She always said that facial expressions were the most important aspect of impressing someone. If you could read the person and make yourself into their ideal partner, they’d be putty in your hands. Robert seems to like to be in charge and superior, but there was an underlying hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the desire to be nurtured?

“Can’t imagine you’ll feel that good. Not as tight as you used to be, hm?” He took hold of your knees and separated them enough for his hips to fit. He was slowly getting harder again and you felt his tip nudge your clit before gathering your arousal on himself. “How do you think we can remedy that?”

He jerked himself off using your slick, then moved the tip to settle against your ass. You immediately stiffened against him and put your hands against his chest. “No. I don’t do that.”

He groaned and took a step away from you. “Little Miss Georgia Peach is too good to take it up the ass? I’m trying to help you win, but I guess you don’t care.” He picked up your discarded clothes and tossed them to you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the hotel phone and began to dial a number. He checked his watch. The person he was dialing answered. “Yeah, hi. Annie? I need you to do something for me. If you could-” You almost leaped towards the phone and pressed the button, ending the call. Annie was Miss California, he didn’t even need to continue the call for you to understand what he was doing.

“I’ll let you!” You were nearly out of breath, your voice hoarse.

He had to hide his smile from his plan working. “No, sweetheart. You have to ask me for it. Specifically.”

��I want you to fuck my ass, Robert.” You gulped. If this wasn’t your dream, you wouldn’t be begging him like this.

“Turn around.” Once you turned, his hands were on your waist and his tip rested against your ass. He slipped two fingers into your pussy, gathering arousal, and then re-lubed his cock. You’d done this before, but it wasn’t something you necessarily enjoyed. The pain outweighed the pleasure. You just needed to breathe through it.

Your hands gripped the sheets below once his head was inside your tight hole. He slowly pushed further inside until he bottomed out. The white, hot pain was rippling through your body. You focused on inhaling and exhaling and continuing to hold tightly to the bedsheets.

He offered you some mercy, moving only after about ten seconds of being inside. After that, he fucked you as he pleased, entirely ignoring how you might’ve been feeling. You were gonna be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, this is how Miss America should feel.”

He pushed your face into the bed so that he could get a better angle and began to fuck into you roughly, rutting into you like he’d die if he didn’t cum within the next few minutes.

Confusion surrounded you when he pulled out and you felt a sudden emptiness. Not that you were complaining. He flipped you to your back and you could barely process what he was doing before his hot cum was spurting onto your breasts and stomach.

He pushed his hair back and caught his breath, taking a step away from you. “Get dressed and leave. I’ve got some calls to make.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at his confirmation of your win. Maybe it was the orgasm that had never reached climax. Either way, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Pins pricked against your soft skin as they held parts of your evening gown together. Lights glare on you and your competitors on the stage. It took a lot of your might to not show the extreme soreness that you felt between your legs. You knew that if you were to touch your breasts or tighten the dress a bit more, you’d only be pushing further against the bruises Robert had given you.

The man in question sat in his chair with the other two judges, arms crossed as usual. He barely gave you a passing glance, instead, he focused on discussing things with the judges or looking at the other contestants. Maybe it was just a ploy to not make it seem like he already knew who was going to win. Certainly, that was it.

The announcer walked on the stage from the judge’s panel with an envelope in his hand. That envelope had your name on it, you knew. He was an irrelevant game show host that you remembered watching when you were home sick from school as a child. Whatever paid the bills.

You kept your award-winning smile on while the announcer took his microphone and began to speak about how the competition was the opposite of what most people thought when it came to beauty pageants. Mostly pandering and filibustering so that the program would be able to run another round of advertisements when they played it on cable.

“Well, I have in my hand the name of Miss America of this year. Without further ado, why don’t I open it and save these women some anxiety?” He laughed at his own joke while the audience cheered.

Miss California stood next to you on your left and Miss Connecticut on your right. As per tradition, you held hands with them while the announcer opened the envelope of the winner. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they were going to lose.

The envelope was open. The announcer leaned into the microphone. “And the new Miss America is…Miss California!”

It was as if you were seeing things in black and white. Confetti fell from the ceiling and Miss California dropped your hand to receive her flowers and sash. You knew that crying would make you look bad, like a sore loser, but that’s the only thing that you felt like doing. You forced a smile and clapped for her.

Robert clapped for the winner, though his cold stare was on you. What you’d never forget was the smile plastered on his face.

He had won.

#inception #robert fischer x reader #cillian murphy x reader #robert fischer #odiesdayoff #cillian murphy

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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 months

Note

For a cunty request can I have a time traveler reader with any of mafia? Maybe Vico or Tommy?

A/N: oh this is going to be hilarious! Thank you for requesting…stay cunty😘✨ (hopefully I did your idea some justice. I didn’t entirely know what scenario you wanted so just some general thoughts)

Warnings: ⚠️a little bit of Joe Barbaro ⚠️

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

I’ve chosen Vito because have you ever seen those memes where it’s like, “a victorian child would probably have an aneurysm over this”, yeah…that would be Tommy if you appeared in his timeline

Like that man is stressed the hell out enough! Don’t go ruining his life further with your shenanigans.

Besides Vito would definitely take this far better than anyone else with the exception of the characters from mafia iii. My brother has been to prison, shipped out to war, and now suddenly in the mob…he’s definitely seen some unspeakable shit..

Every soldier has at least one paranormal experience…for him it just happened to be your dumb ass.

He’s not amused by you in the slightest at first..what the fuck is an iPhone and why are you dressed like an idiot? Are you high on something or just unwell?????

“Look Lady, I really don’t have time for this shit and I have places to be. If you need something there’s a Salvation Army right down the block..”

Of course you keep persisting that you’re perfectly fine and that you’re actually from the future. I can just imagine Vito speed walking away with an exasperated expression plastered across his face; you're just continuing to spew nonsense as you follow him.

“I-I don’t want to hear you talk about your fucking bullshit future! Please just go away.”

This man’s blood pressure is through the roof at this point. He’s even trying to physically shoo you away, if it wasn’t for his background he would’ve taken you to the police department.

“Okay do you want a dollar? Huh, will that make you finally stop yapping?? Actually, here take 20 and go away.”

Eventually he just gives up. You’re the most hard headed individual he’s ever encountered and he let’s you follow him. You’re obviously not giving this up.

Partly thinks this is some kind of prank Joe set up to get back at him.

So naturally his first instinct is go go find Joe because if he has to hear the crazy shit you’re spewing, so does he.

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

At first Joe is also trying to get you to leave his buddy alone. Even offering you money just like Vito did earlier but then a light bulb goes off!

Joe’s main mission in life is to piss off Vito and for him…golden opportunity right here for free.

“Sooo…Y/N was it? Tell me, if you are from the future, will Vito always be this fugly?”

“Oh shut the hell up for once would ya? This is a serious situation we have on our hands and you think this is the time to be making jokes??”

“Maybe not fugly but he will end up being a grumpy old man with no wife or kids.”

Joe absolutely loves you and you’re now besties

“Oohhhh no. You two will not be in cahoots!! Joe stop fucking around.”

Don’t worry, Vito eventually comes around to you. He kind of has to now that Joe is riding this thing so hard.

Neither one of them truly believes you though. At least not at first. It’s kind of difficult to prove until the event you’re warning them about actually comes to pass.

You are able to tell them extremely detailed facts and information about themselves and the mafia. You warn them about Henry and give tips about different tasks.

This made them suspicious of you and blew you off as some kind of narc for knowing so damn much. It wasn’t until things started becoming true, they came running right back to you.

They’re both feeling a mixture of excitement, concern and confusion.

Joe doesn’t understand that you only know main historical events and wants you to give him the winning numbers to the lottery.

Vito on the other hand thinks you’re some sort of crazy psychic or maybe one of them aliens from the film he had just seen.

Either way you’re definitely not from here.

Ultimately Vito doesn’t entirely know how to handle all of this. I don’t think anyone would ever be able to fully process this happening. After all you’ve predicted and protected him from, he just accepts that you’re who you say you are.

You’re not a threat to him and Joe seems to really enjoy having you around so I guess he doesn’t really mind you either. He lets you stay at his place too. It’s the least he could do after all your help and the shit he gave.

At least you’re not as bad as that kid, Marty.

#vito scaletta #joe barbaro #mafia headcanon #mafia ii #mafia 2 #headcanon #vito scaletta x reader #mafia trilogy #mafia definitive edition #mafia 3 #tommy angelo

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spectrum-core · 4 months

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hi if you don’t mind me asking I’d love to hear more about serrated duo parallels?

Alright, just to make sure we are on the same page because I'm not sure if many people know who am I even talking about when I say serrated duo, I mean this pair of goofballs who I love very much.

Fuckass essay about them and how this thing even came to be (which is not what you asked for but it's still important I think) under the cut, as a warning though this is EXTREMELY long, i'm also writing it assuming the readers have played ruina to completion, have at least glanced at the ruina artbook once and are decently familiarized with the pjm universe and its terminology.

"But Spec", you may (and reasonably so) say, "these guys show up in different story tiers, one is a glorified ranged attack tutorial with a minor lore exposition attached to him and the other doesn't even have anything going on due to being a general reception, what the hell".

So let's get into this, more meticulously organized than some essays I've submitted for my uni classes because I care that much about these guys (don't be like me and do your uni projects, please).

Table of contents:

How the fuck did this even come to be 1.1. Me yapping about character dessign

Liwei as a character 2.1. The surface 2.2. Emotional internal nature 2.3. Resentment

Dong Hwan as a character (sorry can't separate him into many categories bc there's NOTHING THERE man i'm absolutely grasping for straws here i KNOW it, but please bear with me)

Summarizing parallels

If you don't feel like sitting through my attempts to contextualize how this ship came to be and me desperately grasping for straws, feel free to skip all the way down to part 4

1.- How the fuck did this even come to be

Honestly the whole thing started as a sleep deprivation shitpost I rolled with because yeah i like these two guys a lot (if you read that one post talking among other things about why I like liwei so much in the first place, the short reply also applies to dong hwan and... Yeag, the only thing that's better than one hot guy is two hot guys and so on).

There was also an interesting aspect about this because maybe it's just me but based of liwei's dialogue lines and keypage text he suggests not trusting, or even liking/admiring/looking up to, high graded fixers (despite feeling that he's supposed to). With an emphasis put into colors because, I mean, he fucking died because he met one at the wrong moment, but I feel it's a general thing he feels for grade 2s and above.

With this in mind, putting him to interact with a grade 1 is... at the very least it has the potential to put them into a funny mutual vitriol kind of dynamic with lw constantly thinking "what's the deal with this guy? does he expect me to praise him just for having a high grade? well, tough luck, i'm no bootlicker" and dh constantly thinking "what's wrong with this man? is he unable to recognize greatness even if it punched him in the face...? should i punch him in the face?", but it becomes far more interesting when you try to imagine (and, with dong hwan being an absolute background character we can only assume things of from extremely vague hints, pretty much all we can do about him is imagining) what made them both special enough for each of them to think "wait, hold on, i actually like this guy" of the other.

After the initial shitpost stage was over, we (the guy who came up with serrated duo while sleep deprived and me) started talking about why we liked both characters and we essentially concluded that, at least dessign wise, they are the same type of guy (ofc I also added a couple of characters I like and who fit the criteria to my post but this post isn't about them).

1.1.- Me yapping about character dessign

On top of that, if you pay attention specifically to liwei and dong hwan in there, you can notice that there's a pretty neat balance of common and contrasting themes in their dessigns, almost in a two sides of the same coin way, so here's a non exhaustive list:

both characters have a primarily monochrome/dark aesthetic going on, with their eyes being the primary colored element that stands out in their dessigns (yeah, you could say that dh has brown hair too but it's a dark shade of brown that doesn't catch the eye nearly as much as the bright-yet-deep shade of red of his eyes)

on top of that, liwei's eyes are blue while dong hwan's are red (i thought they were reddish brown at first but that's just an effect of the transparency, if you separate the sprite in it's different parts, you'll notice his eyes are actually red), which happens to link with a certain trope about two-sides-of-the-same-coin pairs... (will elaborate on this later trust me).

despite the previously mentioned similar monochrome aesthetic, there's a clear contrast between their styles and how they wear their clothes, with liwei having a much more "only informal if it's more practical that way" type of look, with a focus on practicality over trying to stand out too much (for the most part at least, he was dessigned with the idea of a cool guy in mind after all), while dong hwan is essentially wearing a business suit in the most fucked up way possible (really, what the fuck dong hwan), which of course makes his dessign incredibly memorable. To further elaborate on this (and to add details that don't really follow this formal until unpractical/informal AND unpractical pattern): -Liwei's clothes stay in similar shades of grey and black giving him a more uniform look, while dong hwan uses more contrasting shades in his clothing (despite wearing primarily black clothes, that light grey shirt absolutely stands out, and by extension he does) -Liwei wears long boots, while dong hwan wears regular shoes -Liwei wears a long coat, while dong hwan wears a short jacket -Liwei has a fully buttoned dress shirt with a tie, dong hwan wears his shirt unbuttoned, in an universe where clothes are basically like armor this is essentially him saying that he's confident that his opponents won't be able to hit him in the chest, or that even if they did he wouldn't get too hurt from it, and it's a dessign detail that absolutely stands out in an universe where most characters only show skin in their head, neck and hands at most, as we know since its stated in multiple keypages and cutscenes, if a character shows more skin than the absolutely bare minimum, then that means that A. they are inmensely strong, and B. they are even more confident in their capacities, with this being a tactic to intimidate potential enemies for many factions -Liwei wears fingerless gloves while dong hwan wears regular gloves, while at first glance this detail seems to subvert the pattern, let's be real here... have you tried to hold any object and using it properly with gloves? unless you're wearing latex gloves or something made of very thin fabric that shit's absurdly hard, of course i assume there's weird city tech involved in dh's gloves but at least that's my own personal impression of that particular contrast)

and going back to common but not really details: both characters have something noteworthy in their ears (this is most likely just a result of the characters being visible as chibis in game so the best way to give them memorable dessigns is by slapping somewhat unique stuff in their faces and heads BUT IM GRASPING FOR STRAWS HERE OK) with liwei's earpiece (which serves a practical function) and dong hwan's earrings (which look cool as hell, going in line with both characters' general priorities)

similarly, both have something in their opposite eyes, with liwei partially covering his right eye with his hair and dong hwan having the scar going through his left eye.

the right-left motif is actually very relevant in their dessigns. You see, most character sprites in ruina switch the hand in which they're holding their weapons for certain frames (or at least, this is not uncommon to see), either for rule of cool, clearer silhouettes or whatever reasons. However, in every frame in which liwei is visibly holding his knife, he holds it with his left hand (and when he uses his pistol he holds it with both hands), suggesting that he may be left handed. On the other hand (see what I did there?), dong hwan consistently holds his knife with his right hand, in every. single. frame. of his sprite, suggesting that he's right handed instead.

And of course, both of them have elements in their opposite legs too, with liwei having these two stupid fucking belts (affectionate) in his right leg while dong hwan has... whatever the fuck that thing is, in his left leg.

Of course I'm not here saying that they were given contrasting dessigns on purpose, but all these details end up making both of them looking really cool when put together, specially with how their dessigns emphatize their personal preferences and priorities, something I will elaborate upon in each character's section later.

2.- Liwei as a character

Liwei is one of my favorite pjm characters as a whole, yes i like him more than ayin, yes i like him more than angela, yes i like him more than carmen, yes i like him more than dante, yes i like him more than your favorite sephirah/patron librarian/sinner, no im not saying i think any of these characters is bad or poorly written and in fact i think pjm has made an amazing job with protagonists so far catching my interest even with characters i thought i wouldn't vibe with at all, but i have a thing for unremarkable background guys.

As you may have guessed, this means that i have a lot, and i mean A LOT to say about him.

This also means that I have a very specific interpretation of him, this interpretation, while clearly taking bases from what we can see of him in game, is entirely fanmade and i'm not trying to claim this is what anyone intended to convey with him, but it's what makes sense for me.

This interpretation also strays away from some other fan characterizations I've seen of him. So if you think he's actually, at his core, a serious, formal, emotionally detached and unbearably professional, even outside work hours, guy who's deeply dedicated to the honorable task of murder and who is in good terms with the shi association or holds them in high regard? sorry, but for me he's nothing like that.

2.1- The surface

"But Spec", you may say again, "he does act emotionally detached during his cutscene, he even says that people die all the time! are you sure you are actually reading this character right?"

Of course I'm not, I'm just saying that I'm reading him in a way that makes enough sense to me, but I do have reasons to believe that the serious and emotionally detached attitude is an akward mixture of a facade he puts up to be taken seriously by others and an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, so let's start by analyzing his artbook profile...

Wait a minute, is that..?

Ok, I'll see myself out and continue writing the actual character analysis this is what people are here for.

Anyway, going back to the character profile, you may be inclined to see it and assume "well, that actually just proves that he's a serious and formal dude" at first, until you realize that artbook profiles, due to their in-universe explaination being that they were compilled by roland and angela from the information they could take out of the guests' books, are most likely to be about what the guests perceive themselves as/would say to describe themselves rather than what they actually are when looked at from an outsider's perspective. Further proof of the artbook profiles being subjective comes from how the profiles change almost erratically for distortions and ego users, with people in the middle of both states simply not knowing how to describe themselves, the fact that we lack any information about the agents of the head as they were never booked, or how characters such as tomerry have...

This, which I mean, it's very clear that's just tomerry talking about themselves.

Now, liwei's personality traits, or at least what he'd use to describe himself, are "Meticulous, Efficient, and Sharp". We know that he has to be efficient at the very least, considering the nature of his job and guns in universe, the same thing goes for meticulous, we can assume he wants to do things the right away so that he gets paid, sharp as a personality descriptor can take multiple meanings and frankly i don't know which was the original korean word used to describe him so i can't tell which is the right one but most of them seem pretty accurate, at least when looking at him from a surface perspective.

To be honest, I don't think any of the traits mentioned there is precisely wrong, I simply don't think that they are the main or core ones, but they are the traits liwei tries to show, at least.

Another interesting detail is that all full stop fixer artbook profiles have food related items for the likes and and dislikes sections, except for stephan disliking dangerous jobs.

Not particularly noteworthy for this category in particular but still tangentially linked to a point that I believe is also a core characteristic of all three full stop fixers and that is key to understand all three of them, their dynamics and the choices they make during their reception: they are Poor As Shit, because guns and bullets are expensive of course, we also get to see this in stephan's obssesive fixation in money (come on nobody actually checks their bank account as a hobby... right, guys?), and of course this ties in with wanting to be seen as someone serious and professional people will trust with their money AND with the idea of them having the need to maximize efficiency to... well... you... you know... not end up even worse than they actually are.

2.2- Emotional internal nature

Alright, and here we dwell into the actually spicy part of the essay, at least for liwei's character: the moments in which the mask of a professional and emotionally detached guy cracks and he shows his more emotional, and mostly caring, side. This is focused in the way in which he treats stephan and tamaki (compared with how several other faction leaders treat their underlings).

While I should probably need to read all the dialogue in the game to make sure this is a particularly notorious detail, something that inmediately caught my attention is... the fact that liwei never uses a single honorific when refering to other people, neither he's bothered by stephan's more informal speech and the fact that he doesn't refer to him by any honorific or title either (sure, you could say this is because they were in a life or death situation but also y'know, it says something about you that the people below you don't feel the need to use formalities when talking to you), the only person he calls by title instead of first name is... well, the blue reverb, whose real name we can assume he didn't know, with also him being someone perfectly capable of killing not only him but the guys standing beside him as well, you'd want to be as respectful as possible when talking to a guy like that and trying to negotiate.

(even then he doesnt use any sort of honorific towards him, at least in the english translation of the text, he simply refers to him by title)

He neither uses any title or honorific when talking to angela, despite keeping a formal/respectful attitude, i honestly believe that he is genuinely formal and respectful but... you know, that's not the beginning and end of who he is.

Of course, this isn't a major point, but I think it's worth mentioning considering how important honorifics can be to establish the speaker's relationship with the people a message is directed to, they can be used to distance oneself from others. So in a way it could be seen as him putting himself at an "equal" position relative to stephan and tamaki, as opposed to trying to assert that he's their superior (at least in the context of the mission they were working in, since his title is merely fixer, not operator, president, director or anything implying some form of leadership on his end).

Another extremely important detail is his inmediate first reaction once argalia shows up and ruins their plan is... not coming up with a plan b, not trying to fight him in any way, not doing anything about trying to save what little money they can, he quite literally tells stephan "forget about money, we need to survive now".

His initial reaction is directly just yelling at his team to run away, and this stays consistent once he:

Notices that stephan and tamaki are beginning to argue over the future of their mission and how much money they lost.

Realizes that they can't outrun argalia as long as they're wielding their heavy (and again, extremely expensive) equipment. This says a lot as it shows that he cares enough for the people under his care to let the office go bankrupt if it means they can live.

Needless to say, stephan and tamaki refuse to do so and while he clearly isn't precisely happy about the inevitable confrontation with argalia, he doesn't argue about this, he does understand their concern about money, he's not like the other authority figures who will ignore their underlings' concerns at best and ditch them once they outlive their usefulness at worst (at least, that's what i imagine he thinks as he makes these choices).

Not to mention, once they are in a, if only slightly, safer situation in the library, his inmediate response is trying to comfort stephan and tamaki, things dont look good but theyre at least alive, for now.

And there's this line which... doesn't seem to fit at first glance with the idea of him wanting his office to survive at all costs... right?

That is until you realize that he says that line during yet another argument between stephan and tamaki, as an attempt to get them both to calm down, this could also fit in with him trying to keep or restore the cynical, stoic and serious act, but then again we get to see his more emotional and sincere side once he:

Gets killed, quite literally saying that he didn't want to die yet, at least to me this line alone is enough to pretty much confirm that he didn't really mean it when saying that trying to delay their deaths was pointless, but if you need more, he also acts against that same line when he...

Sees his allies die, and inmediately starts freaking out.

Wins the reception, in which case his inmediate first concern is, again, not money, lost ammunition or anything, but rather if stephan and tamaki are okay and if they will be safe once they return.

I don't think that line was him fully lying though, it does say something about him that makes enough sense to me and fits with the rest of the characterization: that his cynism runs much, much deeper than stephan's.

Tl;dr he is extremely caring and emotional deep inside, and even though he tries to suppress that side of himself it always finds a way to show itself, I feel like in other contexts this makes him prone to emotional outbursts and generally make him an unpleasant person to be around... save for people who are already familiar with his personality quirks and the fact that he is Like That.

2.3- Resentment

Of course, this dissonance between the person he tries to pretend to be to fit in/keep his job and the person he actually is made him grow a pretty strong disliking of... well, everything he considers related to the fact that he has to act like that to get enough money to feed the people in his office.

I also feel like he feels genuine guilt over the fact that his job is essentially just glorified murder, I have no base for this other than the more detached way in which he refers to the church of gears, it almost feels like hes forcing himself to not care because its them or him and his office, and that he has genuine self-hating tendencies because of it (which he also uses his stoic act to hide, he doesn't want to worry his office and become a burden to them, after all), in a way he may be trying to overcompensate by being nice to his office to feel like there's people he can help/protect.

But this hatred towards himself also manifests in the form of hatred towards anything he can blame over him being the way he is and working the job he has.

As I said before, I don't think liwei likes colors, or most high grade fixers for that matter, you may also extend this to figures of authority, influential organizations or even the city's society as a whole (and honestly? i do personally, i don't think he's actually capable of forming any particularly healthy bond with people outside his office because of this, and even then saying that the relationships he has with his office are healthy is... generous to put it softly, this is not to say that he secretly hates the other people in the office, but rather that he fears that they may secretly hate him, because he's the highest graded member of the office, he hates people sitting above him so it only makes sense that people below him hate him for being above them, right?), and of course I'm not saying this because I'm projecting or because I think it's cool and edgy and sad but I actually have bases for this from what I can see in the game.

The first example of him not trusting high grade fixers AND influential organizations being one of the very first things he says when being introduced: that having an important person, from an important organization, belonging to an important section of said organization, approach him and give him a request was shady as fuck.

And he turned out to be right, as Yujin was planning for him and his office to get sent to the library and die there so she could read their books and find some passage saying shit like "well we were found by the blue fucking reverb and our only choice was to come here and die even though we were royally fucked either way life sucks see you all in hell my final message 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕" so she could use that on her favor.

In this topic too, I'm personally firmly opposed to the idea of full-stop office being affiliated to the shi association and this is the hill i'm willing to die on, but I digress.

We see this same resentment on an even deeper level in his keypage where he talks about colors (and we can assume this view extends to other high graded fixers, and to a lesser extent to the hana association), he doesn't sound like he wants to become a color, he doesn't sound like he even likes the concept of colors being a thing that exists in the first place.

The most important lines from these fragments to me being the following:

"A color is the dream [...] of all fixers who wish for freedom.", freedom is a VERY relevant concept in project moon and ruina makes a very clear point about how nobody is free in the city, roland says it, most plot relevant guests say it, some patron librarians say it too... a huge part of the story is how angela comes to terms to the fact that turning human wont grant her freedom and how she ultimately becomes free by embracing her nature as a machine (so free indeed that the head decides to kick her and the entire library out of the city, not only shes a machine that acts like a human, which is already a major city wide taboo, she made a choice that no human in the city should ever make). Essentially, liwei seems to see colors (and im assuming that by extension high graded fixers) as the ultimate example of an impossible aspirational class (think of these "self made" enterpreurs who received extremely generous financial support from their rich parents to start massive companies as the closest irl equivalent, except that obviously not the same, i will elaborate more on this later).

"They put forward the colors as great and successful people that other fixers will look up to. They dream of earning wealth and fame, and to be free like them one day." Why would he be talking in third person here if he too admired colors, or wanted to be like them, or thought that were free in any way? Also that separation between money and fame (something that colors objectively do have since they can afford exclusive high tech weapons and armor) with freedom (something that is debatable, but liwei seems to assume colors don't have) feels too much like a deliberate choice to further push towards that point of him seeing colors as not only an impossible goal to achieve for the average fixer but also that the ideal of a color as someone who is free is something impossible to achieve even if one were to become a color.

"Colors are assigned by the 'Hana Association'. [...] The title of a color is forcibly given to fixers who qualify essentially. Can a fixer be truly happy with freedom that was forcefully handed to them?" This particular fragment, specially the last sentence, is absolutely key for Liwei's characterization, and the final and most important part of him saying "wait, no, colors aren't free, because nobody is" to me. It is also worth noting that this fragment can be read in multiple ways, all of them are important and accurate for his characterization.

He thinks that the responsability and risks that come with being handed the title of a color are far greater than the prestige that comes with the title, can you really say that someone who cant afford to decline requests due to being contacted by the most important organizations in the city, whose closest friends or family WILL be regularly targetted by rivals either to extort them for money or just try to attack them to the point in which most high graded fixers abandon any personal attachment to others, who will have to see the horrible things that happen in the city in an almost day-to-day basis and will likely have to do even worse things in the name of corporate interests is free? Can you really call it freedom if you can't refuse it? Essentially he is saying "actually every single aspect of being a color is terrible and to make matters worse that life is forced on them after they go through extreme miseries in the hopes for a better life but all they get is more of the same if not even worse, they aren't free and shouldn't be refered to as such."

He thinks that in order to become a color (or any highly graded fixer, really), you must essentially lose yourself, which is to say abandoning all friendships or familiar bonds, only keeping shallow interactions with people, desensitizing themselves to whatever horrifying shit they may have to see, abandon all sense of morality as they never know what their next request will be and "im sorry but i dont do xyz, it does against my personal morals" isnt an argument that will work in a place like the city, this also fits into the whole "actually having a much more chaotic emotional side he's trying his absolute hardest to supress but failing" theme mentioned in point 2.2., someone who is so deeply emotional and whose actions are ultimately defined by what is the most likely to keep the people around him alive is obviously not going to like the idea of keeping his distance to them, or to dispose of people with lower grades than him because they were supposed to be expendables anyway.

I don't remember the exact quote and i dont feel like looking for it but in one of gebura's cutscene she claims that all power in the city only serves to strike those below but never up. You have to climb to get stronger and then you'll only be able to assert dominance (through violence) over people weaker than you are, and she grew to dislike this, as she wanted to protect others but was never able to do so because of how the city was dessigned.

Of course, liwei reached the same conclusion but he took the much simpler but much more unhealthy approach of assuming "well, if things are like that, then that must mean that everyone in a position of power (over me) must be responsible for this".

Of course this also comes with the side effect of him being as caring for the rest of the office as he can because he doesn't want to be like other figures of authority as i mentioned in point 2.2, but thats not to mean that things are all fine in the office, i feel like there are several moments in which he internally curses his position of authority but not quite (bc i don't think he's actually The Big Guy In Charge of the office, really), most obviously the aforementioned moment in which he yells at tamaki and stephan to drop their guns so they can run away and live when they clearly dont want to, i feel like at moments like that he feels like they only do things because he tells them to and they "can't argue" (except that they do, fortunately for him the enviroment in the office is healthy enough for the rest of full stops to not abuse this fact, but the "what if"s are absolutely eating him from the inside). As ironic as it sounds his earnest desire to not be Like The Others is the same thing stopping him from being the perfect and efficient leader he wishes to be, and he probably isn't sure of which thing he values more than the other (it's staying true to his own morals and keeping the people under him safe).

However, there's a key detail here that's worth noting: liwei has a tendency to treat everyone else as equals, sure he is formal and respectful when doing so (pressumably even when talking to people he'd rather never interact with if we assume his conversation with argalia was actually how he is and not him just walking on eggshells to not get killed) but he doesn't bother trying to make a clear distinction of who is above and below him, no matter what their title and rank may be, and for people who are used to being looked up to by everyone else this will be seen this as him insulting them in some way, it may come from a sincere desire of him to come off as insulting while not breaking any (major) social convention in an act of malicious compliance or just the type of person he is, that's up to you to determine.

"But how the hell does any of this relate to dong hwan?" we'll get there right now.

3.- Dong Hwan as a character

This is kinda... the hardest point to talk about, because sure I can yap all I want about him but... it's hard to without going "Source: I made it up" too much.

So, looking at his combat sprites you may notice one thing: he is unbelievably hot for real what the hell he has an incredibly smug aura, most people who care about him to some extent i've seen tend to depict him as a very prideful person, and honestly i dont think differently either.

HOWEVER, i feel like despite this he's still a levelheaded guy who can aknowledge his own flaws. On top of that, i think he's a pretty charismatic guy and he's capable of noticing other people's strenghts, and he'll let people know about their own strenghts too.

Also, to contrast with his smug and cheerful exterior, his combat lines depict him as someone very serious when at work, he doesn't even react emotionally to getting killed.

His first "on kill" line is also particularly interesting, as it shows that he prefers to work on his own (unlike everyone's favorite monochrome moody boy), which makes sense considering that he comes alone to the library when you fight him, he may belong to a one-man office (which is the closest a fixer can do to be fully independent, as far as we are aware).

His keypage story also fits this more serious and analytical personality but not much of it is particularly noteworthy from a character analysis perspective, it doesn't say much that you couldn't notice from his combat lines anyway.

Another important factor to me and to contrast him to liwei is... okay, this may be the fact that he's a solo fight and he is, pressumably, an independent fixer, so he's not titled as a member of a particular organization, instead his title (for him, his reception, his keypage and his book) is "dong hwan, the grade 1 fixer", which i mean, again, is most likely just so we dont fight this guy with zero context on who he is and what hes even doing in the library in his own is he stupid? but i like to imagine that the in universe explaination is that he has tied his perception of himself and his own self worth to his grade, to the point in which using both his name and grade is what comes naturally to him when introducing himself, since books are essentially physical manifestations of the soul, then it just makes sense then that his book will give both his name and grade the same importance. This may come from a need to compensate for something else and i actually like to imagine that's the case because it adds yet another layer of parallels with liwei (source: trust me).

Another point is... remember that I mentioned how food was a very consistent thing in the full stops' likes and dislikes sections in the artbook? this point is also not relevant but dong hwan is frequently assumed to be the owner of that pub that shows up at that short side story about roland and angelica which i never watched because i Literally Can Not Care about angelica sorry, but, hey, it's a cute detail, i think he should cook for the full stops.

I feel like there's something to be said about dh's red eyes because in pjm when a character has red eyes you know that means one thing: they will be a big deal, but dong hwan, other than looking incredibly fucking cool and carrying me through the snow queen suppression (FUCK THE SNOW QUEEN ALL MY HOMIES HATE SNOW QUEEN) and star of the city tier 1 (thank you dong hwan i love you dong hwan)… he is rather unremarkable on the grand scheme of things, he's a general reception so you don't even need to defeat him to beat the game, and he only serves to give us some insight on who the fuck was the vermillion cross, and even then he does a terrible job at explaining who he was other than "well, he was a guy i guess" and honestly, the relevance of both liwei and dong hwan is ALSO an important factor in these parallels, as with one being the guy who introduces the concept of colors and the other being the guy who introduces one particular color fixer by casually mentioning being friends with him, both feel like characters who would be much more narratively important in any other story, but here they... aren't.

4.- Summarizing Parallels

Aka the part you may want to skip to if you don't care about me analyzing characters with little background info about them.

So, basically a list of personality (and background, i guess) traits they have in common and how they're different:

Both characters are putting some sort of facade, with liwei trying to act serious and stoic so he's taken seriously while dong hwan... i dont think he even knows what the facade he's putting even is, he's been putting an act for so long that his mask became his true self

In both characters' cases, the first impression they give isn't really the kind of person they truly are (in lw's case this is a deliberate choice and in dh's case i assume that's just the type of person he is), HOWEVER, while liwei acts serious and analytical (and to some extent he is), his true self is far more emotional and prone to form deep bonds with people, while dong hwan has a more passionate, smug and cheerful external attitude but he's much more serious and levelheaded deep down

Both characters have different, conflicting views about their grades, however these differences ultimately lead to both of them being able to treat each other as equals, or as close to that as possible in the city, i feel like liwei can see dong hwan as someone of worth so to speak for reasons unrelated to his grade, while dong hwan does see liwei as a good person (well, good is a subjective term specially in a place like the city) and far better at teamwork than most people in the city, in a way both value something in the other that the other never stopped to consider "hey this is actually a good thing i have"

Both characters are (pressumably?) trying to compensate over something, with liwei putting his professional and formal act to compensate for his sentimental self while dong hwan puts a strong emphasis on his high grade for... who knows, really, i just like this parallel being there because i think it adds a lot

Both have problems forming relationships, with liwei being a generally unpleasant person but being capable of forming deep, meaningful relationships with the people capable of seeing through it, while dong hwan is a charismatic guy liked by almost everyone he's met, but whose relationships tend to be shallow

Not really a personality thing but both characters have a thing for being remarkably unremarkable guys, dong hwan is obviously forgotten by most ruina playes because he's a general reception and the biggest impression liwei leaves in most players is "OH SHIT HE HAS A GUN", even though both are pretty intentionally dessigned with the intention of making them look cool however ive very rarely come across full stop or liwei fans (by which i mean people who like them particularly instead of "actually the entire pjm cast is cool and that includes them) and dong hwan fans are.... yeah, i think ive met like, 4 of them at most (thanks guys i owe you my life)

Something about their combat styles including their passives, liwei's only visible passive is called Concentration and gives him extra strenght for the first turn of a fight, after which he relies in the fact that his attacks weaken the enemy, so he comes off as the sort of guy who prefers to keep his distance and figure out the opponent's weak spot(s) (something he canonically is good at doing) to keep an upper hand at combat, however despite this he's still lacking in both strenght and technique, being only a grade 4 (which i mean let's be real the grades go from 9 to 1 and i feel like a majority of fixers are in the lower grades so he's still pretty much above average but he isnt doing all the cool shit you see the stronger characters do, because that's not the kind of character he is). On the other hand dong hwan's passives have much more cooler sounding names (Fervor, Carver of Scars, Toughness...), all of them focused on either inflicting bleed (status ailment that gradually makes the opponent lose hp)/buffing him against enemies with bleed or buffing him as he gains emotion levels, and his focus is just inflicting bleed like crazy, as well as delivering harder blows against people with bleed, prioritizing raw damage over strategy (but likely being able to figure out an opponent's weaknesses as well, brute strenght alone are most likely not enough to get you far in a world where the powerful people are INSANELY strong bc physical enhancements are commonplace)

I feel like in a way both admire each other, liwei admires dong hwan's capacity to keep a cool head at all times when at work and not letting his feelings have too much weight over his desicions, but dong hwan admires how honest liwei is about himself as well as his capacity to work in a team taking in consideration what will be best for the team as a whole even if it's perjudicial for him in particular.

In Conclusion

Your honor, two of them

#library of ruina #anon #spec-reply #this isnt probably very coherent #and probably not very exhaustive either #but i started writing this 10 hours ago and ive only stopped to eat and i barely proofread this anyway here you go anon #.🔫

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arclith · 2 months

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I started doing daily drawings again but I've forgotten to post them here oops :P.

Here's the 9 I've done so far. For some context most of these are my OC's. I know I've posted Neoma here before and Zeva was in one or two of my works here but the others were not so I guess some introductions are in order. But before the yap session, some context on number 7 and 8.

Drawing 7 was for april fools, I had promised a Neoma drawing for that day so I made this and posted it with the caption "Probably most Epic Neoma Drawing ever" with content warning over it on twitter and bluesky. Drawing 8 was a study I did of a Ryuko figure sitting on my desk, I don't do digital lineless paint very often unless it's for a background so it was fun practice!

The first drawing is of Zeva's brother Nevis. He's an extremely intelligent person who's seen some pretty nasty things being a researcher intern for a major corporation since he was just a kid (he's just that smart and studious). He barely ever gets any sleep even though he's only an intern cause they work him to the bone with almost no time to rest. Through private testing he learned he has the strange ability interact with anything that's reflected on any object. Because of this he always carries a handmade revolver on him (to him guns are the most effective weapon to use for his ability).

The second drawing is of my boy Zeva! Him and Nevis were pretty close as kids but as Nevis went away for his "internship" and their mother passed away he was forced to live with his pretty miserable father. After some events (saving that for when I actually make my Webcomic) he ends up far from home and alone on the streets of the largest city on the planet New Cider City. As a young kid he has to learn to fend for himself on the brutal streets of the New Cider City outskirts. As he grows he learns he needs to make money somehow to survive so he does street performances using break-dancing moves he makes up by watching people at skate parks he hangs at. Because he gets so fluent at it break dancing is also the way he fights! Years after he's survived on the streets he meets Neoma and gets an opportunity to learn about his special ability from a Master of some sort. His special ability is to manipulate the moisture of the air and the ions around coluds. It's a pretty useful ability!

The fourth drawing is of Zeva and Neoma doing graffiti together, it's something they do to bond. It's a activity they came to do after they realized it would be the perfect activity for Zeva who was molded by street and skate culture and Neoma who has a passion for making art.

The sixth drawing is of Lyna. She is the aforementioned Master. She is highly skilled in the martial arts and seems to know a lot of specifics about how superhuman abilities work. Her ability is to create stars, if she creates one using her left hand it has an explosion that can be set off by slapping her left wrist. If she create one with her right hand it creates a bright flash of light that can be set off by slapping her right wrist.

For the the last drawing (todays drawing) As I previously said I've already talked about Neoma here a bit like her time based ability and her passion for art. This was really just the Neoma art I initially promised before April fools LMAO

Anyway if you've made it all the way to the end congrats! You've withstood my detailed yet vague OC lore dump LMAO. I hope you enjoyed that, thank you for reading and enjoying my art :D

#oc artwork #ocs #sand land #ryuko matoi #Zeva is simply him #her name is neoma not nemona don't get it twisted #Star powered woman: Lyna!#digital art #daily art #daily drawing #beelzebub #kill la kill #This was supposed to be a simple daily drawing catch up post for tumblr but I ending up going on a crazy oc yap session #Not so smart smart guy Nevis

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

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innocence - 39

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: boy, did i take a lot of time to post this but it’s the last one and i am on the ground crying. thank you so much for supporting this work. i am so lucky for having all of you xx

Bucky woke up with an odd cold feeling in the spot where Y/N usually used to lie. He rubbed the sleep of his eyes, hand roaming around the bed to find her hot body but nothing; he was alone in bed. He groaned, moving out of the bed as he kicked into protective mode. She shouldn’t be up this early at least not after he’d kept her up all night and if she was awake, it could be for no good reason. His hand blindly found the door as the other looked for something to wear so he wouldn’t walk full on commando in the living room and scare the neighbour who lived in the building next to his. Opening the door, he found her surrounded by papers, her laptop laying on top of her legs, glasses slightly and slowly sliding down the bridge of her nose. Bucky leaned against the door ledge, a stupid lovesick smirk on his lips as he examined her. Somehow, she had managed to find her underwear, the cutest little white, blue and pink corset and matching panties covered by a white dressing gown which just looked delightfully sinful with his hickeys and bite marks spread across her tender skin. He shouldn’t feel so cocky about marking her, yet the mere sight of it woke up an ego like pride which made him want to show her around to everyone who’d bother look. Yet, another part of him wanted to keep her all to himself. Obviously he knew he couldn’t, she was more of the world than she was of him and he would always be madly in love with her no matter what.

- Mrs. Barnes, you are interrupting our honeymoon period. - he joked, walking behind the couch to kiss her temple. - What are you doing up at 5AM? Are you gonna go on a run with me?

- I’m just looking at my contract. - she closed her laptop with a sigh. - Iron clad contract, can’t believe I signed it.

- Princess, it was your first agency. You couldn’t have possibly known.

- My dad is a lawyer, my siblings are lawyers, my grandparents were lawyers. How did I let this happen? Why didn’t I haggle? Why don’t we have a prenup?

- Your mum is a chef, maybe you took after her. - he joked more to himself than to her. - Also what does a prenup has to do with it? Are you planning on divorcing me already?

- When I sent the contract over to my dad he asked if I had gotten a prenup when I got married and I know he likes you but he kept yapping about a prenup and how smart women get prenups and I can’t believe I don’t have a prenup and that I signed this contract. - she spoke as fast as a freight train, not even taking a slight break. Bucky noticed the tea cup by her side which, judging by her quick speak, probably wasn’t filled with tea.

- Princess, did you have some of my coffee?

- I did, I needed to be awake.

- It’s extra strong coffee, doll. You barely drink coffee, it can’t possibly be ... uhm ...

- I am jittery. - she interrupted him. - I’ve read this a thousand times and unless another agency fights my agency for a contract with me, I am stuck on ensemble for the rest of my life and it’s not like agencies are fighting for good old me.

- Okay ... - he took her laptop away from her placing it somewhere on the ground before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her on top of his lap. She leaned her head against his chest, cuddling against his still warm torso from the heat int he bedroom. - Listen princess, you need to take your mind out of that. It’s no use re-reading that contract over and over again.

- My career is over and I’m not good at anything else.

- Your career is not over. - his hand caressed her shoulder, pulling her hair away from it before placing a small kiss to her shoulder. She merely cuddled against him, those contract words tattooed on her mind. - There’s no way that contract is legal after he’s charged with harassing you, princess. You just need to relax now.

- I don’t know.

- Let’s go to Florence. - he bite her shoulder playfully. - Let’s go. What’s stopping us?

- I don’t know ... we can’t go.

- Don’t make me use the husband card. - he pointed at her playfully. - You’re not gonna want to be here during his trial anyway, precious.

- Maybe you’re right. - she leaned onto him, her arms wrapping against his torso. - You really think I’m not over?

- I would never let that happen, would I?

10 years later

Bucky felt the sun kiss his skin, the early yet soft wind of March passing by the quiet streets of London as he walked down the street in dark jeans and a equally dark blue henley. He stood by the little white building, sunglasses on as the bell rang and suddenly the boast of laughter erupted from inside the building followed by thousands of little legs running outside. He remained stoic until his smile pulled slightly up as between so many children, he spotted the thick brown curls of his daughter who rushed down the stairs in her little uniform and ladybug bag. She stopped at the bottom off the stairs, looking around until she spotted her dad. A smile, identical to her father’s, formed in her face as she rushed towards Bucky with open arms. He pretended to step back as she collided against him, before pulling her up and kissing her cheek. The 4 year old giggled, her arms wrapping around her dad’s neck as he walked away from her nursery.

- We learned about the letters in our names today, daddy! - she started to relate what she had happened during her day immediately after they were far away from the crowd.

- No way, ladybug.

- Yeah. My name has a B, just like yours, daddy. - Bucky knew he should tell his daughter at some point that his name was not Bucky and that it was merely a nickname but he couldn’t bear tell her. She just looked so happy.

- Thank god we match, right ladybug?

She nodded her head, cuddling against her dad as he continued to walk in the affluent area of London. The weather was nice, a good omen for the big event of the evening. He was so proud as he saw the theatre walls with a photo of his wife, her name printed with the label Tony Award Winner under it. She deserved it, she deserved it so much and he could not even express in words how proud he was of her. The move back to her hometown had been a difficult one but seeing everything going right, seeing how happy she was ... god, he could swell up with pride.

He went around the theatre, finding the backstage door and entering it. His daughter jumped off, little eyes looking around with so much wonder. He was almost sure she’d end up like his mother, a little star. The orchestra tuning could be heard from the walls, people and cast were running around preparing for the opening night. Blair held up his hand, pushing him through the crowd and up the stairs where the dressing rooms were.

- Mumma! - she walked into her mother’s opened dressing room. Y/N dropped whatever she was doing to go hug her daughter, immediately preparing her with lipstick stained kisses. - Mumma, my name has a B like daddy.

- No way. - she smiled, leaning her forehead against hers. - Ain’t daddy a lucky man?

- Daddy is a lucky man, alright. - he chuckled, walking up to his two girls. - You look precious, princess.

- I’m nervous. - he muttered towards her husband, who merely smiled before kissing her. - I’m serious.

- Well, every time you tell me you’re nervous, something great happens, doesn’t it? - he looked at his daughter; the last time she had told him she was nervous was before Blair was born. - Me and Blair are gonna be there, watching you be splendid.

- I wanna go see Chuck. - Blair jumped away from his mother too, running to the next door dressing room and leaving the two lovers alone in the dressing room covered in red flowers, all curtesy of Bucky. The minute he had the theatre address, he started sending roses, lilies and even more every single day.

- Wish me luck? - she put her hands on top of his shoulders, almost slowly dancing with him.

- You don’t need any luck. You’re always perfect.

- You’re extremely biased, Mr. Barnes.

- No, I just have an extremely talented wife, Mrs. Barnes.

- 5 minute call. - the voice came through the voice on the speaker.

- Love me even if I fail?

- Love you ‘til the end of time.

taglist: @disasterbi @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir @niki-is-a-thing @cynic-spirit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @buckyswillow

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lovezbrownies · 1 month

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Silent treatment. (Yandere!Queen x GN!Reader)

Masterlist.

Synopsis: Your wife won't listen to you, so you take matters into your own hands and fail miserably.

Queen Nia x reader

Word count: 545

Warnings: Stockhold syndrome, no boundaries, not listening?, cute overall.

“Your majesty, ple-” A sharp gasp came out of the woman in front of you, her hand on her chest and a horrified look on her face. “Majesty?!? Are we not married?! My heart, ah!! Maid! Get me a doctor!” Nia goes on with her dramatics once again. And you were exhausted, you could barely have a serious conversation with her, a few months into your marriage with the Queen of Xelera and you couldn’t do it anymore.

So far, you’ve accepted your fate. There is no point in escaping, she is the queen she will go to extreme lengths to get you back! So when you finally resigned to your fate and tried to have some serious discussions with Nia about boundaries and the terms of your marriage she would always find a way to change the topic, or brush your concerns off.

By now you’ve decided that the only way Nia would ever listen to you is by not talking to her. You’ve made up your mind! For however long it will take you, you refused to speak to her, to even utter a single meep, you even started to pretend like you were too busy to spend time with her at times. And it ruined Nia, she would beg and beg for even a tiny hum! Usually you would contribute to whatever thought she would blurt out but even when she mentioned your favorite topic you would not budge!

That led to today, where you and your wife sat at one of the vast gardens in Khas. picnic blanket under you and pastries and tea in front of you. You sat straight, criss-cross applesauce style. While Nia was lying flat on her stomach, her head held by her hands. “Why are you ignoring meee?” Nia whined, looking up at her stunning lover, wondering what she’s done wrong. Nia tried her best to provide you with the most expensive of jewelry, clothing, supplies for your hobbies, and refused to do any work until you speak to her. Not like that changed anything because she’d only sign less than 5 documents in a good month.

Strange sight to see the Queen pleading and begging her spouse to speak with her. “Please… I’m sorry… Please talk to me, tell me what I did, I want to apologize, please, please, please-” And she goes on and on. Over the weeks of your silence you’ve gotten used to it, but even if you hated to admit it you missed yapping away with her. So you turned to her, your eyes locked, and she bounced up, sitting straight, Nia grabbed your hands. “Yes!! Say something! PLEASE!”

You inhaled, closing your eyes, you finally decided to say something. “I wa-” Only for- “Oh my goodness, thank heavens you spoke! I’ve missed your voice so much! Okay now did you know what Lady Aria said to me the other day? And you better respond to me!” There really was no way to win. You just had to deal with her nonsense and slowly lead her to understand your boundaries physically somehow.

Sigh. “Yes, dear, what did she say?” Nia squealed and laid her head on your lap, forcing you to massage her scalp as she went on with her stories.

#yandere x reader #x reader #yandere #oc x reader #yandere x darling #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #Yandere x reader #Female yandere #fem yandere x reader #female yandere x reader

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2jaehs · 3 years

Text

ETHICS l QIAN KUN

genre: smut, daddy!

warning: Dilf!Kun, profressor!Kun, Student!Reader, semi-public, semi-cheating, cursing, alcohol

word count: 5,6k

Your new ethics professor may not be as good as the subject he is teaching.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a chilly evening and your parents were hosting a couple of friends from work for dinner. Your mother, a professor at your university, was always ready to break in a new lecturer especially if it meant it would benefit you in any way.

The professor who was invited was soon to be your new ethics lecturer for the second semester, all you knew of him was that he too had a kid at the university and your mother was hoping you’d get along with them.

“Did you find out who’s Mr Qian’s kid yet?” Your mother sipped her tea as she hovered over your desk, scrunching her nose at your Facebook page.

“No mom, you know people my age don’t use Facebook” you groaned and clicked the university page to find the tagged alumni. After a few clicks you noticed the new lecturer had been added and with another click you were on his Facebook page.

“God he is handsome isn’t he ?” Your mom marveled and you shook your head, “you have a husband you know” Your mom let out a laugh and playfully slapped you on your shoulder, “I’m not like that, plus the man teaches ethics he’d be horrified if I was trying anything.”

You shrugged and scanned the professors page until you noticed a post with a familiar looking boy. The two of them stood next to a brand new car and the caption read ‘congrats on the new wheels son.’

“This is.....Minghao, he’s a year below me” you pressed your lips together and looked up at your mother, “he’s pretty chilled I’m sure it will go fine.”

Your mother let out a sigh of relief and patted your back, “okay good so you’ll be able to keep him company tonight then, Hey maybe Mr Qian will give you special treatment after tonight.”

You wished your mom knew how accurate her guess was in the weeks to come.

————————————————————————

You slipped into a comfortable long floral dress and did a light make up look before creeping out of your bedroom to greet your mother’s guests.

“Ah there’s my princess” your dad bellowed to the guests who looked up at you as you made your way downstairs, already wishing you could hide away from your dad’s embarrassing words.

“Hi I’m y/n” you greeted, shaking everyone’s hands. There was a woman in her late 40s and Minghao the boy you had seen around your department from time to time.

“My dads just getting the wine from our cab” Minghao scratched the back of his head nervously as he took a seat across from his mother at the dinner table.

You slipped into the seat next to him, your mother mouthing a thank you for your bare minimum efforts and placed the last cooked dish on the table in front of you.

“I almost thought you were drinking all of that on your own” your dad chuckled as a man shimmied through the door holding two bottles of wine. You felt your heartbeat race when he came into full view, possibly the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. Mr Qian had a wide friendly smile spread across his face as he sat the wine down on the kitchen counter and removed his coat, revealing his extremely toned arms stretching the fabric of his white buttoned shirt.

“Oh you must be y/n” he ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat at the head of the table, in between you and his wife.

“Eh yeah it’s nice to meet you Mr Qian” you smiled politely, trying to keep your eyes off his pouty lips.

You couldn’t believe you were checking out your lecturer right now, in the presence of his wife and son for fucksakes. But he was so unbelievably gorgeous, the way his ash blonde hair was styled framed his face perfectly, and his soft eyes bore into yours as he spoke.

“Please call me Kun” he chuckled sweetly, “unless I’m teaching you then we can switch back to the formalities.”

You nodded and he shot you another friendly smile before your dad began pouring everyone a glass of wine.

You and Minghao zoned out as your mother began talking about the university and let Kun know the basics, from campus etiquette to where he can buy the best coffee.

“Well I’m looking forward to everything” Kun raised his glass to your mother and downed the last bit of it.

“Y/n darling sort the dishes out will you ? We’re going to head to the patio for more drinks” your mother called. All you wanted to do was return to your room, but after letting out a groan you did as you were told.

You scrubbed the dishes as you noticed Minghao was entertaining himself with a game on his phone in the living room. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were grateful for that, you really weren’t in the mood to be sociable with a stranger.

“Sorry to disturb but where is the wine opener ?”

You jumped at the sudden voice and the next thing you knew the leftover suds from your gloves were on Kun’s shirt.

“Shit- I mean sorry I’m sorry” you tore off your gloves and grabbed a paper towel ready to clean up your mess.

“It’s okay y/n” he chuckled and took hold of your wrist as you looked up at him, “it’s just a little water.”

Kun smiled down at you sweetly but you noticed a hint of curiosity in his eyes as you stood still under his touch, not bothered to move under the sudden contact.

“A-are you sure it’s okay?” You asked in a small voice still looking up at him and unconsciously bit down on your lip as your eyes drifted to his plump ones for the 4th time that night.

Kun cocked his head to the side, slowly let go of your wrist, and wet his bottom lip with his tongue before taking a step back,

“Can I have that wine opener y/n ?” He asked in a low tone.

“Oh right” you pulled open a drawer and retrieved the item, handing it to Kun who grazed his fingers against yours as he received it.

“Thank you.”

————————————————————————

You were in your bedroom reliving that moment over and over again. You were not delusional right ? There definitely was a little tension between you and Mr Qian and you had no idea why.

Did he sense that you were attracted to him ? He probably thought you were awful for even making it known to him since he was married. He taught ethics for heaven's sake, he probably thought you were a horrible person.

Sighing, you turned on your stomach and listened to the voices coming from the patio downstairs. You heard your dad pretty clearly, he was loud but when drunk even louder.

“Y/n is a good student but her mind wanders a lot”

“It’s true, she’s just like her dad”

“Hey!”

You groaned at the sound of your parents yapping and hearing Kun and his wife laugh along only made things worse. How the hell were you going to get through a whole semester of ethics with Mr Qian when he’s already met your insane family ?

A few minutes had passed and you heard a knock on your door. Before you could respond your mother flung open your door and you noticed Mr Qian was lingering right behind her.

Great.

“Sweetheart do you mind giving Kun your notes and essays from last semester” she hiccuped as Kun chuckled softly at her antics.

“Mom I -“

“It’s okay” Kun raised his hands, “you can bring it to me on Monday”

“Nonsense you’re here right now” you mom silenced him, “oh I’ll also fetch the old schedule just so you have an idea of what it all looks like.”

Your mom disappeared down the hall to her study and you expected Mr Qian to follow her but instead he leaned against your doorframe and watched you.

“I didn’t save much...so”

“I thought you were a good student y/n” Kun teased, his dimple showing as he grinned.

You rummaged through your drawers, “I am a good student” you pulled out your old ethics file and got to your feet,

“Not all the time though.”

Kun raised his eyebrow at your words and received the file from you before checking the hallway for your tipsy mother.

“Oh I’ve noticed” he said lowly, his eyes looked around your bedroom then met your stare, “I just hope you will pay attention in my class Miss y/l/n”

“I’ll try my best sir” you responded, chewing on your bottom lip before your mother reappeared and dragged Kun back downstairs.

Kun turned back to get one last look at you. He was taken back that you were still staring at him, those barely innocent eyes enticed him and the way your lips were caught between your teeth made him-

“My daughter is ecstatic for the new semester. Please look after her,” your mother said, handing the last of her notes to Kun.

Kun nodded and thanked her before collecting his family and headed to their cab outside. He pondered on her words and looked over at his wife, “sweet family aren’t they ?”

————————————————————————

It was another chilly winter morning and you were making your way over to your 8am ethics lecture with your best friend Xiaojun. “Dami said the new ethics lecturer is hot as hell” Xiaojun sipped his coffee as you two turned into the corridor, avoiding the lingering students,

“He came to my house over the weekend, he's pretty handsome yeah” you said, feeling butterflies in your stomach just talking about him. Xiaojun was about to speak until the two of you heard a low voice from behind you,

“Good morning you two” Mr Qian greeted with a cheeky smile and slipped into the classroom with his briefcase and coffee.

“Shit do you think he heard me ? shit shit shit” you cursed under your breath as Xiaojun pulled you into the front row of seats. The classroom began filling up and almost every person who walked in did a double take at Kun, it could've been his newness or the fact that he was now the best looking professor in this department.

“Why are we sitting upfront ? this feels weird” you whispered to Xiaojun.

“I want him to think that we pay attention” Xiaojun nudged you as the two of you watched Mr Qian remove his blazer and fold up his dress shirt sleeves. Your breathing hitched as you monitored his veiny arms while he navigated his laptop, thinking back to when he had his hand around your wrist and looked down at you with his almond eyes.

“Hello everyone, I'm Professor Qian, you can refer to me as Mr Qian or...sir” his eyes dropped to you on the last word as if it were reserved just for you.

You couldn't concentrate at all on the lecture and it wasn't due to Xiaojun talking his head off. Every movement Kun made had you adjusting your seating position and every glance had you adjusting your hair or wetting your lips. Every damn second you had to remind yourself that he was married and you were his student, an ethics student. But you couldn't help but wonder if what you were feeling was being reciprocated. You concluded that he was either oblivious and naturally charming or he was toying with you. Either way you looked at it, you knew you were like putty in his hands.

“I hope everyone has a good day and don't forget tomorrow I’ll be doing a short quiz in order to check your process” Mr Qian smiled sweetly and took a seat at his desk, waving off the first student's to leave his room.

You gathered your books and began making your way out when Mr Qian cleared his throat, “y/n can I see you for a bit?” Xiaojun nudged you and winked which only made your face redder than it already was. Spinning on your heels you pressed your lips together and made your way over to his desk.

“Y-yes Mr Qian ?”

“Please take a seat” He smiled and waited until the last person exited the room and shut the door. You returned to your original seat and a nervous feeling overcame you when you realized you were now alone with him.

“I just wanted to return some of the notes you gave me” He began pacing in front of you with his hands stuffed into his pocket, “and I just wanted to check if you were paying attention today”

“I did, I mean I usually go over the slides again later” you bit down on your lip. The chirpy tone of your voice made you cringe, why did you want him to think so highly of you ? that you were a good girl, not slacking off.

Kun nodded and pressed his lips together before retrieving your notes from his desk and handed it to you. You swallowed hard when he leaned over you, his large hands pressing into the desk and a strand of his blonde hair fell out of place and curled over his eyebrow.

“It’s not because you think i'm handsome that you're so distracted now are you?”

A shiver went down your spine at the sound of his silky voice matching his daring eyes as if he was waiting for you to act on it. You looked up at him, he could see his reflection in your doe-like eyes and it made him unconsciously lick his lips.

“I uhm….I'm sorry” you battered your eyelashes at him, hoping he would keep this information to himself and not out your words to your mother.

“Im sorry...who?” his voice was stern. Something dark had overcome him and it excited you.

“Im sorry...sir”

You watched his eyes light up by your words and it was enough indication that you weren't being delusional about him. Kun took a step back and returned to his desk signaling the end of your conversation. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and grabbed your notes heading straight for the door.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

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Most of the next three weeks Kun was pretty normal. He treated you just like every other student in the room and it made you feel a tad jealous. You waited for his glances or him asking you to stay after class but he completely ignored you. Maybe he came to his senses and felt guilty flirting with a student when he was married. That was until Friday came around and you were sitting in your mom’s office.

“One sign of pleasant weather actually got you wearing a skirt ?” Your mother teased as she bit into her salad.

“I've never worn it before and I think it looks cute” you pouted looking down at your beige and chocolate brown checkered mini skirt.

“You do look cute sweetheart and you'd look even cuter organizing my store room”

You groaned at your mothers request but jumped to your feet knowing you didn't have anything else to do. It sucked that the weather was actually perfect for an outfit to tease Mr Qian in but his lecture had been cancelled for the day. You opened the store room only to be greeted by dust and darkness, not surprised that the state of the shelves were a mess in a few short weeks since you last cleaned them.

Grabbing a flashlight you got started on the lower shelves when you heard a knock on your mom’s door and Kun walked in holding a box of folders.

“You're done already ?” Your mom said, mouth filled with her chicken wrap as Kun placed the box on her desk,

“Yes I scanned them onto my usb, It’s easier catching up that way” he replied politely,

“Okay well I’ll tell y/n to put these away, I'm still trying to finish these reports and my lunch”

Kun tutted at your mother’s words and began unpacking the box, carrying the folders over to the storeroom, “I'm not doing anything right now and we cant let y/n do everything on her own now can we?”

Your eyes widened as he joined you in the dark storeroom, his figure completely hidden from your mother as she continued snacking on her wrap and eyes engrossed in her computer,

“Kun you're too kind, okay you two have fun.”

You held your breath as you felt his arm brush against your back as he worked on the shelf behind you. His perfume was sweet, the scent tickled your nose while he moved around the compact room.

“Where’s section R 20-30 ?” Kun asked you softly, squinting as the flashlight you held caught his eye.

“Oh sorry uhm it's down here you can give it to me-”

“It's okay I got it” Kun mused and crouched down next to your bare legs trying to find the placement of the file in hand. You kept your focus on the shelf in front you, freezing when you felt the tips of his hair brush against your knee. Kun slid the file in its place and allowed his fingers to dance along your legs as he stood up, scanning your face for a reaction. When you gathered yourself you turned back to placing files in their respectful spots earning a scoff from Kun. He cocked his head to the side, amused by your composure. He touched you a few feet away from your mother and you didn't budge, he was impressed.

You thought his teasing was over until Kun stood beside you, shielded in the dark and you felt his warm breath against your neck. You froze when you felt his fingers on your inner thigh, slowly moving up until he pinched and you squealed, bumping into the shelf.

“Darling are you okay ?” Your mom called from her desk.

“Answer her y/n” Kun whispered before placing an open mouth kiss on your neck.

You cleared your throat and prayed your voice wouldn't crack, “Im okay just tripped over something, the usual” You heard your mother chuckle, thanking the heavens that she was so oblivious to what was going on in her store room right now.

You felt Kun smile against your neck and his fingers returned to your inner thigh, moving up until he grazed against your lace panties. Kun hummed when he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn't believe how wet you were for your professor at this moment. Kun skillfully moved your underwear to the side and felt your wetness before bringing his finger up to your mouth.

His lips curled into a smile waiting to see how dirty you were. All of this seemed like a test to you, as if he wanted to see how much you could endure before he had his way with you. The way he looked at you made you want him right then and there. Guys your age couldn't handle a girl like this as much as they tried to convince themselves. Your sex life was boring, all of them were the same but this, this was exhilarating.

Kun’s mouth parted as he watched your pouted lips meet his finger and lick his finger clean. The way he looked at you made you feel proud, he made you feel like you aced your assignment.

“Dammit I have a last minute meeting, sorry sweety I can't drive you home today should I call a cab ?” your mother sighed as you and Kun innocently stepped out of the store room.

“I don't mind giving her a ride home,” Kun offered, his attention fully on your mother despite feeling your glance on him.

“Kun you are a lifesaver seriously, how do I repay you ?” Your mom grabbed her satchel from her desk and made her way to the door.

“How about dinner? Jia and I really enjoyed your hosting” Kun offered, helping your mom lock up. You felt weird when he mentioned his wife’s name, hating that you were jealous of the woman who actually got to call him hers. It also made you feel as if you were just a play thing for him, and that none of this would affect him but rather you.

You were lost in your own thoughts until you realized your mother had already agreed to his offer and you were now standing alone in the corridor with Kun.

“Shall we ?” Kun gestured for you to lead the way and the two of you walked in silence until you got to his car.

The first ten minutes were silent, all that could be heard was the faint voices on the radio and the tyres of the vehicle moving against the gravel road. Kun smiled to himself as he watched you pull out your phone to distract yourself from the uncomfortable silence.

“y/n do you have a boyfriend ?” He asked a little too casually for your liking.

“No I don't”

“Why is that?” His question made you look up at him, confused as to why he would ask you a question like this after he had already explored most of you just a couple minutes ago.

“Not interested in what this campus has to offer” you shrugged and looked out of the window, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Does your wife know you have a professor student kink?”

Kun clenched his jaw at your words and suddenly pulled into a vacant parking lot of a fast food joint. Before you could say another word Kun wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. It was absolutely tantalizing, the way he tasted, the way his tongue fought with yours but it ended abruptly.

“You're a brat you know that ?” he chuckled dryly, “Jia and I are soon to be divorced, we only do work social activities because It makes a good impression.”

You felt a sense of relief and excitement. Even though it was a pretty fucked up arrangement going on currently, it lifts a burden off your shoulder knowing they will no longer be married.

“Why...me?” you bit down on your lip and looked up at him. Kun softened up and slumped into his seat, running his fingers through his ash blonde hair, “I don't know, the shallow answer is that I find you incredibly attractive”

“What's the other answer ?”

“Look,” Kun turned to face you, “We hardly know each other but I feel an instant connection to you, I tested your morality, which is fucked up, to see if you were like me, someone like me preaching ethics yet borderline fucked up?”

You could tell there was more to it, a personal war with himself especially since he was about to get divorced. Of Course you wished there was more to it but he was probably not ready to get involved with someone especially after years of marriage to then hook up with one of his students at that.

“Mr Qian everyone is fucked up I mean that's why we have to study ethics isn't it ?” you reached out to console him, rubbing his shoulder as he chuckled at your words. Kun leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips,

“How did I come across someone like you y/n..”

“All im saying is I’ll be happy to be your rebound, your play thing whatever you need….Sir”

Kun shifted in his seat as he watched you lift his hand, making him palm your face as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked on him gently. You heard his muffled curses as he adjusted his pants, trying his best to keep a tent from forming as he felt your tongue swirl around his thumb.

Kun quickly snapped out of the trance you had him in and restarted the car, getting back on the route to your house. You snickered to yourself as you noticed how red his ears were from the ordeal, it was nice being the dominant one for once.

He pulled up to your house and unlocked the car door for you, “I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow, wear a dress for me okay sweetheart ?”

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It was saturday evening and being an obedient student you wore one of your most...accessible dresses. You made it look classy despite the length barely sitting above your knee and topped it off with a glossy makeup finish. Your mom had told you that Minghao wasn't attending tonight and you might get bored from their conversations, little did she know that this might be one thrilling night.

You helped your mom set up the table while your dad organized the drinks and played soft music in the background to set the ambience. Just as you finished the last utensil arrangement you heard the doorbell ring and the butterflies in your stomach had returned.

“Kun good to have you back man” your dad went in for a handshake as Kun and his wife stepped in. Kun was good at playing the innocent professor. The way he greeted you with such poise as if his hand wasn't up your skirt 24 hours ago.

“Let's not get too drunk now shall we, we're driving home this time” Jia tutted as she handed your mom a bottle of wine.

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright light followed by thunder, making you and your mom jump at the loud noise. “Seems like you're not driving home at all buddy” your dad said peering outside as the harsh rain began pouring down, already starting to flood the driveway.

“He’s right, you guys can stay in our spare bedroom for tonight,” your mom added. You and Kun both shared a quick glance before your dad pulled him into another conversation.

“Honey can you make sure the room is set up ?” your mother turned to you and you nodded, smiling politely as Jia thanked you.

By the time you were done with the bedroom you were welcomed by everyone already seated at the dinner table waiting for you. Unsure if it was planned by Kun but your seat was placed right next to him, with Jia at the head of the table conversing with your mom on her opposite end.

Kun poured you a glass of wine and you silently thanked him as your dad continued his intense conversation about whatever he watched on the news network this week. You sighed poking at your potatoes, being bored as your mom predicted you would be until you felt a hand on your thigh.

Keeping your eye focused on your dinner you scooted a little closer to Kun until his hand was able to fully grope your thigh without anyone at the table noticing a thing. You felt the icy cold sensation from his ring as he caressed your skin, not doing anything too drastic since everyone was in close proximity. You inwardly groaned when he eventually pulled his hand away, completely engrossed in the conversation happening between your mom and Jia. As Kun added his piece to the conversation you used the opportunity to do a bit of your own exploring and let your hand slip into his lap.

Kun pressed his lips together as he tried to focus on the chat instead of the hand that was now palming him under the table. You took a sip of your wine as you continued rubbing him through his black trousers, already feeling him get extremely hard under your touch. Until it was getting too much for him to handle, Kun pushed your hand away and excused himself from the table,

“I'm gonna use the bathroom, please excuse me”

“y/n why don't you show Mr Qian where the bathroom is” Your mom said, still chatting along with Jia and your dad.

You sighed and played the good daughter, leading Kun upstairs until the two of you were out of sight. With one swift movement Kun had you against the wall in the hallway, his hand wrapped around your throat and his erection pressed against your abdomen.

“Are you fucking insane ? you want me to fuck you in front of your parents is that it ?” he growled,

“Oh so you can have fun but I can't ?” you rolled your eyes only causing Kun to press into you harder.

“God you're so bratty, I can't wait to teach you a lesson” Kun bit into your neck, sucking until he was satisfied with its purple colour, “I'm going to go downstairs and telling your parents that you went to your bedroom, keep that dress on until I visit your room later tonight understand ?”

“Yes sir.”

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You waited in your room, doing as you were told and even heard your parents, Kun and Jia head upstairs and say their drunken goodnights. The sound of Kun’s voice just outside your door made you squirm in bed, wanting, waiting for him to just show up and have his way with you.

It was around 2am, your eyes were heavy and you sighed as you looked at the time on your desk clock. What were you thinking ? There was no way Kun could pull this off without his wife suspecting him or even your parents hearing someone sneaking around the house. But then again everyone was so damn drunk a criminal could break in and they'd have no idea.

Suddenly your door creaked open and in the darkness you saw a figure creep in, locking the door behind them. You sat up in bed and Kun quickly rushed over, placing a hand over your mouth and brought his lips to your ear,

“You have to be real quiet baby, even with all this rain and thunder, we have to be careful”

You nodded at his words and Kun placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling the covers off your body and switched on your bedside lamp in order to look at your body. He traced his fingers along your legs, over your abdomen and between your breasts until his thumb grazed your lips, parting them slightly.

Taking the hint you sat up and positioned yourself in front of Kun as he began unbuckling his trousers and let them pool around his ankles. You looked up at him as you palmed him through his boxers, watching him throw his head back sighing from the sensation. You pulled down his boxers and licked your lips once getting a full view of his erection, wasting no time in taking him fully into your mouth until he touched the back of your throat.

“Fuck” Kun mumbled softly as you began sucking him off, slowly in order to lessen the noise and to keep him fairly quiet.

Kun tugged on your hair and bit down on his lip watching your saliva drop from your mouth as he pulled out of you. You looked absolutely delicious, all he wanted to do was ruin you.

You stood up facing him until he began kissing you softly, unzipping your dress revealing your white lacy set and giving him his first taste of your naked figure. “You're beautiful” he cooed as he left soft pecks across your neck, especially on the spot where he had marked you earlier on.

Kun removed his shirt and unhooked your bra before pressing your back into your bed and his hips began grinding into yours, slowly, making you feel every part of him as the two of you returned to each other's lips.

“You're such a bad girl you know that” Kun groaned as he slipped his hand into your underwear and rubbed circles with his thumb, making you squirm underneath him.

“Teach me a lesson daddy” you sighed and the nickname made Kun growl into your ear. Kun pulled off your underwear and turned you until you were on all fours. He positioned himself behind you and as he pushed in he clasped down on your mouth and bit down on your shoulder, preventing both of you from moaning too loudly.

Kun’s hips slammed into yours erratically, switching from fast to slow strokes in order to drown out any suspecting sounds.

“I want to ride you daddy” you managed to whisper through his fingers and again Kun caved to the nickname and pulled out, falling onto his back as he awaited your offer. You slowly straddled him and took in his length once more, as Kun sat up, meeting your thrusts and held onto your ass and throat as you rode him as best as you could. Kun felt you tighten around him as you neared your climax and flipped you around until you were underneath him and he was now in control of both of your orgasms.

“Im so close..” you whined as Kun hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Me too baby, lets keep it quiet okay I promise I’ll make it up to you soon”

Kun brought you to your climax and he followed quickly after, his sweaty body falling on top of you as he tried to catch his breath. You reached for the covers and Kun turned onto his back and allowed you to cuddle into his chest. You smiled as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stroked your head,

“Thank you, God I want more, I can't wait for more” he whispered as you giggled,

“I’ll be here, and besides you're going to help me pass ethics right ? “ you pouted. Kun chuckled softly and massaged his temples, “okay how about you study hard and i’ll reward you with whatever you want sweetheart,”

“Deal” you gleamed, “Thank you sir.”

#kun smut #kun fic #qian kun #wayv smut #wayv imagines #wayv x reader #wayv scenarios #kun scenarios #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines

350 notes · View notes

gimmesumsuga · 4 years

Text

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!”

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Thank you @readyplayerhobi for my super cute banner and @johobi for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi. Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath. Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall. You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem. We won, it’s ok.” She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup. She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds. He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room. She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it. By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things. A two-year relationship over, just like that.

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned. Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.

And boy, does she know it. You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet. She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.” Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.

Not that it’ll soon matter what the next-door neighbours think of you, that is - not if you don’t ace the interview that you’re due to attend in a disgustingly short amount of time. You really should’ve gone to bed earlier, given that the ability to pay your rent is now riding on exactly three and a half hours sleep should you not manage to drift off again for what little time you have left before your alarm is set.

Luckily, the slow rise and fall of Remi’s soft little body lying next to yours proves as soothing as you’d hoped it would, and you’re able to steal a couple of hours more of precious sleep before having to drag your unwilling carcass out of bed and into a pair of high heels. Full of nerves, you bite your nails the whole way there and are forced to make a pitstop in a public restroom prior to your arrival (nervous bowels for the win), but despite all that, you get the feeling the interview actually goes rather well. It’s not for anything fancy, mind - a retail position at one of the more high-end-but-not-quite-designer clothing stores in the city - but the woman quizzing you seems friendly enough, all nods and smiles and shiny white teeth. You even manage to make her laugh, which is impressive given how lame your sense of humour can get when you’re nervous.

She tells you that you can expect to hear back by the end of the working day, and whilst at first that sounds perfectly reasonable, by the time you’ve gotten home and changed into something more comfortable you’re already going out of your mind. Remi seems to pick up on your unease, too, sitting dutifully by your side as you glance at the arm of the sofa where your phone lies every other second, her little ears alert and twitching.

It’s only after you’ve checked it’s not on silent for perhaps the hundredth time that you finally decide you’ve had enough. Decisive, you rise to your feet and slip on your shoes before grabbing Remi’s lead from where it hangs by the side of the door.

“Who wants to go on a walk, huh?” you offer, but having already seen you reach for her lead, Remi is already beside herself with excitement. Atop her back her fuzzy little tail is wagging up a storm, dusting back and forth across the floor once she finally calms down enough to plop her bottom down onto the laminate and let you actually attach her to the thing.

“Ok, ok, don’t pull,” you murmur mostly for your own benefit as you open up the door and then pause to lock up, her lead looped around your wrist. Heaven knows Remi’s not listening anyway - not when she’s this wound up. “Jeez, I’m coming!” you complain, turning on the spot when she yaps impatiently only to take one step towards the staircase and then come to a complete stop once you realise someone’s already coming up the other way.

That someone being Min Yoongi, your aforementioned next-door neighbour, and his dog, a little toy poodle you’re not entirely sure of the name of.

If you’re honest, you’re barely on a first-name basis with the man himself, nevermind his canine companion. You’re fairly certain you remember him introducing himself when you first moved in, but other than that you’ve had very little to do with each other since then apart from the one time you accidentally picked up his mail and he came knocking on your door in search of it. You remember thinking he was cute, too, back then, but despite the smiles that you’ve offered up whenever you may pass in the hall, Yoongi has remained somewhat of a mystery.

Is he just shy, perhaps? Or is he really as aloof and disinterested as the perma-furrow in his brow might have you believe?

Of course, as soon as Remi spots the other dog she starts whimpering and pulling even more with the want to go and say hello, which is ridiculous, really, because you know as the moment the poodle comes close she’ll turn tail and run - which lo and behold, she does. Their noses have barely touched when she jumps backwards and then scampers to hide behind your legs, tangling you up in her lead as she goes.

“Oh Remi, you big wuss!” you sigh as you fight to shuffle backwards enough for Yoongi and his dog to actually be able to get past - a task easier said than done given that the poodle seems set on chasing after her, tangling you up even more.

“Holly, leave it,” you hear Yoongi warn as you peer down at the dogs dancing between your legs, praying for Remi not to do anything that might embarrass the both of you.

She’s never been aggressive before - all bark and no bite through and through - but there’s always a first time…

As if right on cue, Remi releases a deep, rumbling growl as a warning once it becomes apparent that Holly doesn’t have any intention of backing off without a fight. You cringe at the sound, embarrassed.

“Hey! Be nice!” you scold as the other dog very quickly turns tail and runs back to his owner, startled. You feel your cheeks fill with heat as Yoongi scoops Holly off the ground and into his arms, making a mental note to not give Remi any of her usual bedtime treats this evening.

“I’m really sorry about that,” you gush despite Remi looking anything but, sat scratching herself at your feet without a care in the world.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs, glancing down at Holly with a hint of a smile, “‘Bout time someone put him in his place.” You can’t quite think what to say to that - caught off guard by how very different Yoongi looks when there’s a smile on his face rather than a frown.

Yeah, he’s definitely cute. Cute button nose? Check. Honey-boy smile? Check. Even the dye job on his hair is better than your own - a deep mahogany red to suit the changing of the seasons.

Your silence earns you a quizzical look but no further comment, and mentally you kick yourself for being such an absolute loser as Yoongi turns and heads back towards his apartment, Holly still cradled in his arms.

"And I'm sorry about last night!" you call after him like the unstoppable moron you are.

Why would you bring that up?! There's nothing but more awkwardness in-store by mentioning that, surely?!

Still, deep down you feel obliged to offer some sort of apology. After all, you expect Yoongi would have had the pleasure of having to overhear some of yours and your ex's more colourful arguments in the past. Not to mention the fact that Remi decides to bark every time she sees a bicycle on the television screen.

“It’s just… I had an interview this morning,” you explain as he slowly turns back around to face you again, one eyebrow slightly raised, “And I already went to bed late, so…”

“Don’t worry about it.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way Yoongi averts his gaze and seems to shrink in on himself a little bit as he looks at Holly rather than you. “I should apologise. I didn’t realise how late it was. Lose track of time when inspiration hits.”

“Oh, that was you?” you enquire before stopping to think that maybe Yoongi might not want to share any further. He appears to hesitate before answering, but when he does he offers you a small smile and another shrug of his shoulders along with it.

“I’ve got a home studio,” he explains, exhaling with amusement before adding, “Not gotten around to soundproofing it yet. Obviously.”

So he works in the music business, huh? You figure he must be pretty good, considering how you’ve always presumed it’s been mainstream chart stuff that you’ve been hearing through the walls in the past.

“That’s really cool,” you grin, pleased to see him smile back, and you’re just about to open your mouth to keep the small talk going when all of a sudden Remi tugs sharply on her lead, jolting you off balance. Flustered, you glare at her accusingly only to see her staring right back, impatient for the walk she’s been promised.

Little madam would be tapping her paw on the floor and checking her watch if she only knew how…

Giggling to mask your embarrassment, you make your excuses and bid Yoongi farewell, and you’re about halfway down the concrete steps to take you to the ground floor when suddenly his voice calls after you,

“How did it go?” Looking up, you see his face peering down at you over the railings. The apples of his cheeks look even more pinchable from below; so smooth and sweet and round. "The interview, I mean," he explains further when all you do is gawp back up at him, mouth hanging ajar.

"Oh!" Could this really be real? Is Yoongi - introverted, mysterious Min Yoongi - taking an active interest in you? Well, not you necessarily, but something to do with you, nonetheless. "Yeah, I mean, I think it went pretty well." He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

"Well, good luck with it," he says, and all of a sudden Holly's face pops over the side too, tongue lolling out. At your feet, Remi grumbles disgruntedly.

"Thanks," you reply, face aching with the effort it's taking for you to try not to grin too hard. "Keeping all my fingers crossed." Yoongi gives you one last final nod and then disappears out of sight, keys jingling as he opens his front door, and you’re left giddy in his wake.

Realistically, you know this whole exchange was little more than every day ordinary - some might even say mundane - but it's caught you so off guard that you very nearly fall down the stairs when Remi barks you back to reality, tugging once more on her lead.

"Oh alright, alright, alright…"

****

Turns out, your gut feeling that the interview went well was right.

Not that you’d actually found that out until much later on in the day, mind. Thanks to all the faffing around you’d been doing with your phone prior to leaving the house, you’d managed to leave it by the front door rather than take it with you, and by the time you’d gotten home, there were three missed calls and a rather perturbed sounding voicemail waiting for you. Still, better late than never, eh? You were just glad your new employer hadn’t mistaken your sudden unavailability as a lack of enthusiasm; full of spluttered apologies and excuses by the time you eventually called them back.

That was two weeks ago, now, and you’ve been pleasantly surprised as to how well things have been going so far. Being a high-end store, the clientele are somewhat more demanding than you’ve been used to before, but the money’s good and your new colleagues have been more welcoming than you could’ve hoped. Everything’s been coming up roses, and whilst you’re revelling in your newfound financial security, Remi is… well, Remi’s not been taking to it quite so well.

It was only a month or two that you were unemployed prior to starting this job, but it seems as though that was time enough for Remi to become all too accustomed to you spending all your time at home. You’ve no idea how she is when you’re out during your shifts, but the way she sits whining at the front door whilst you get ready for work is enough to break your heart alone, and she’s so excited to see you every time you get back that it doesn’t take a genius to assume she’s been mourning your absence every moment that you’re gone.

It makes you feel horrifically guilty, but what else can you do? You need to work and dog sitters are a luxury you can't afford - at least not right now, anyway. And so of course, like every individual who’s ever suffered with ‘mom guilt’, you end up over-compensating to make up for it; new toys, tastier treats, extra-long walks. Basically, anything Remi might ever want.

And it’s on one of these longer walks that you finally end up bumping into Yoongi and his canine companion again, meandering through the park nearest your home. He doesn’t spot you, at first, which gives you ample opportunity to observe the fondness with which he watches Holly chasing the autumn leaves dancing along the path with each gust of wind. You even get to hear him laugh for the very first time when Holly abandons the leaves and opts to chase his tail instead, and the whole scene is so endearing that you can’t help but stop and scrunch your nose at the two of them, grinning to yourself from where you linger further down the path.

Does he have any idea how cute he is, you wonder? You can’t imagine Yoongi would be the type of guy who’d appreciate hearing it, should you ever work up the courage to tell him so.

“Hey!” you call out once you’ve mustered up the courage to finally reveal yourself, approaching them with Remi’s lead held firmly in hand. On hearing your voice, Yoongi looks up from where he’d squatted down to give Holly a fuss, his small eyes widening infinitesimally once he realises it’s you.

“Oh, hey,” he greets, quickly straightening up and brushing off the leaves that’d gotten caught on the front of his long, black coat.

“How’s it going?” You keep a close eye on Remi as you approach, and whilst she still tugs on the lead in an attempt to rush forward, you’re glad to find that this time around the two of them are somewhat calmer as to how they go about greeting each other. There’s plenty of sniffing, still, and plenty of bouncing around, but apparently Holly is a quick learner and knows better than to come on so strong this time around.

“Yeah, not bad.” You can tell Yoongi’s a responsible owner by the way he closely watches Holly as the two dogs say hello, but as he glances up you can’t help but notice that there are dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes despite his profession of good health.

Has he been staying up late again, absorbed in his music? If he has, he must’ve had the forethought to use some headphones, as you haven’t been awoken during the night at all ever since that fateful evening a couple of weeks ago.

“Hey, uh, how’d it turn out with that job, in the end?” Yoongi asks, and it’s stupid but you swear you feel your insides flutter with excitement at a) the fact that he remembered and b) would care enough to ask about it further on down the line.

“Really good!” you reply as Remi sinks down into a playful stance amongst the leaves, bottom eagerly wiggling. “I got it, yeah! Started last week.” Yoongi smiles mildly, though it’s nowhere near the toothy grin you’d seen him bestow on Holly earlier. What would you have to do to earn one of those, you wonder?

“I figured you had.” Your brows furrow in curiosity as he slips one hand into his pocket, shifting his weight.

“Oh? How’d you work that out?” He glances at Remi for a second, pausing before he answers.

“Your dog, Remi?” You nod, growing more curious with every second. “Well, she’s gotten kind of… noisy since you went back to work.”

Oh. Oh shit.

Your embarrassment must show all over your face because Yoongi’s quick to continue explaining, his own expression turning into one of worry.

“I mean, it’s no trouble. It’s not like I’m trying to sleep or anything and my headphones cancel her barking out anyway,” he rambles as the two dogs continue to spring back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. “It’s just… I feel kind of sorry for her, is all.”

And oh boy, if you didn’t feel guilty already about leaving her than you sure do now. What must Yoongi think of you? Does he think you’re being neglectful of her? That you’re some horrible, conscienceless owner? Oh god, what if he reports you for animal cruelty or something?

“I didn’t… um…” Realising you’re on the verge of bursting into tears, you purse your lips and look down at Remi for a second or two, trying to remind yourself that no matter what anyone may think, you’re doing the best you can. She’s in good health and she’s happy… most of the time. “I didn’t realise she was getting so upset while I was gone,” you say, blinking back the tears and forcing a smile as you shrug your shoulders like it’s not so much of a big deal. “Maybe I’ll have to look into a sitter, or… or…”

“I didn’t mention it to try and make you feel bad,” Yoongi gently interrupts, and you can tell that he’s being genuine from the tone in which he says it. Somehow, he doesn’t strike you as the sort to bullshit someone just to spare their feelings. “I’ve just been thinking; maybe I can take her out with me for a walk in the afternoon? I’ll be walking Holly anyway, so…”

“Are you serious?!” you exclaim, your sheer volume and enthusiasm so unexpected that Yoongi actually takes an involuntary step back, his eyes widening in alarm. Even the dogs momentarily stop their play, heads cocked to the side as they stare up at you, bemused. “That’d be amazing, thank you!” Yoongi smiles, rubbing bashfully at his neck, and if it weren’t for the fact you’re unsure of how he’d respond, you’d have thrown your arms around him already while you girlishly squeal your thanks.

“Really, it’s no big deal,” he dismisses, but it’s too late. As far as you’re concerned you’re already indebted to him for being kind enough to merely suggest it.

“It is to me,” you smile and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear that Yoongi’s cheeks turn a softer shade pinker as he glances down at the floor, clearing his throat.

“You can just drop a key over whenever. Whatever’s easier for you.” He shrugs his shoulders, all nonchalance in spite of your beaming smile. Below you, Holly’s happily letting Remi clean the inside of his ears, oblivious.

“Thanks, Yoongi.” He looks up, and this time you know you’re not imagining the awkward blush dusted along his cheekbones. “I owe you one.”

It isn’t until later on, long after you’ve gotten home and whilst you’re trying (ie. failing) to get to sleep, that it suddenly dawns on you that there may be one potential downside to Yoongi’s generous offer.

Now that you’ve given Yoongi your spare key, he can just come moseying on into your apartment any time he likes. Any sane person would surely be concerned about the potential security risk that poses, surely, but you? Oh no, your anxieties are centred around the fact that this means that Yoongi will get to see what an absolute shit-tip your apartment is and suss you out as the grotty little goblin you are, and thereby conclude that he should never, ever, ever speak to you again, for as long as you both shall live.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as you realise this you’re even less able to sleep than you were before and proceed to spend the next four hours tidying up all the areas in the apartment you figure Yoongi is most likely to see. You make a pretty good job of it, too, though you start to question whether it was worth it when you have to spend the next following day at work feeling as though you’ve got some sort of fatigue-induced hangover - dry mouth and all.

It was, though, no doubt. Once you finally arrive home all blurry eyes and aching feet, Remi seems a lot less manic than she has these past couple weeks when she’s been left alone. She’s still pleased to see you, of course, but it’s a happy tail wag rather than a desperate nipping at your fingers or jumping up your legs like before. You notice that Yoongi has re-filled her water bowl, too, and the calmness he’s imbued in her seems to last throughout the whole evening. She's so calm, in fact, that you can’t help but wonder if he might’ve slipped something into said water bowl.

If he did, you’d sure like to know what it was…

And so it continues throughout the weeks that follow. You and Yoongi never actually cross paths - much to your dismay - but Remi continues to relish her daily adventures out and about the town without you. And it’s not just Remi that benefits from your newfound arrangement, either; with the time that you’d normally use to walk her yourself now no longer needed, you’re free to indulge in the self-care rituals that’d fallen by the wayside once the past few weeks. Bubble-baths, face masks, deep cleanses - your skin has never looked better!

“This is the life, huh Rem?” you sigh in contentment, glancing over to where she’s currently lounging atop the closed toilet seat opposite your bathtub, keeping you company whilst you luxuriate. She says nothing, obviously, but looks happy enough with her chin rested on the sink and eyes half-closed. She yawns, showing off all her teeth, and it catches - your mouth opening in a great big yawn as you reach out of the tub for the glass of wine precariously perched on the side.

So what if it’s only three in the afternoon? This is what weekends off work are for, and if Remi’s not judging you then you’re not about to go giving yourself a hard time either.

“What do you say to a little nap after this, hm?” Glass now empty, your fingers are starting to look a little bit pruney as you place it back on the side, and you take that as a sign to say you’ve been wallowing in your own filth long enough. It’s time to make a move.

With a great big groan of effort, you hoist yourself up out of the water and stand up, grinning to yourself at the little headrush that comes with it - purely from the change in blood pressure, obviously. Nothing to do with your midday alcohol consumption at all. Unfortunately, your amusement is short-lived once you realise that in your eagerness to soak you’d completely forgotten to bring your towel along.

“Ah shit,” you huff, climbing out onto the bathmat and then wiggling yourself in an attempt to drip dry as best you can before you venture out to where you know you’ve left it hanging on the radiator out in the hall. Remi watches your shuffle curiously but it’s not as though she hasn’t already seen it all before, and you flash her a grin before covering up what you can with one hand and opening up the door, shivering a little as the cold air hits you.

Suddenly, Remi darts out from the bathroom from between your legs, barking like mad, and maybe it’s because the alcohol has slowed your reflexes - or maybe you’re just a little slow in general - but it isn’t until you hear the front door shut and Yoongi calling Remi’s name that the slow realisation of what’s happening hits you.

Remi's walk. Yoongi's come to take Remi on her walk because as far as he knows you’re working, and why on earth would you have been smart enough to have had the forethought to let him know that you’re not?!

“Hi Rem,” you hear Yoongi say once she’s finished yapping, her aggression replaced by excited whining as she no doubt dances around his feet. Like an idiot, you’re so blindsided by his sudden arrival that all you can do is stand frozen in the hallway - the hallway that Yoongi would be able to see directly down should he only think to move a few paces to the left. “You ready for walkies, girl?”

Oh god, why now?! Why you?!

Remi lets out a bark of excitement and then, to your horror, you realise she’s turned tail and decided to come and fetch you to join in with all the fun, the bell on her collar jangling as she runs towards you, ushering in your doom.

“Where are you off to? You don’t want to go out today? That’s a shame because Holly-” The sound of Yoongi’s voice coming closer is finally enough to kick you into gear, and it’s with a yelp of alarm that you reach out and snatch the towel off the radiator and clutch it to your chest just in time for Yoongi to round the corner and come into sight.

His eyes widen comically when he sees you, his mouth popping open as he freezes in the doorway and you scramble to cover yourself. You’re not sure how much he actually saw but you think he must’ve seen something , judging by his reaction. Between you, Remi runs back and forth, joyfully oblivious. Your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment, and given the rising blush you can see on Yoongi’s cheeks you’d guess he’s not faring much better.

“Um… I-” you stutter out, holding the towel in place against your chest in case Remi decides to jump up your legs and yank it down. “I-I’m not working this weekend and-”

Shamefully, Yoongi doesn’t even give you a chance to finish explaining. With nothing more than a rapid series of blinks and a stiff nod, he turns around on the spot and walks out of your apartment faster than you’ve ever seen him move before, and though you and Remi rush aimlessly after him, he’s too quick to catch. He doesn’t even shut the door after himself properly, so eager is he to escape.

“Poor guy must've gone to pour bleach in his eyes," you sigh whilst Remi stares forlornly at the door as you press it shut, her tail hanging sadly between her legs. You can only hope you haven’t scarred him for life and ruined your arrangement, and you tell yourself that it’s for Remi’s sake but really, you’re not sure your ego could handle it if it turned out Yoongi had taken one look at you naked and decided never to speak to you again.

You run your fingers through the wet mass of tangles that is your hair, sighing once more as you head towards the kitchen, uncaring that you’re likely dripping bathwater all over the floor.

“I think it’s time for another drink, Rem, don’t you?”

Remi doesn’t get walked that afternoon, much to her displeasure, and the reasons for that are twofold. One - after having chugged down another two large glasses of wine in hopes of erasing your short-term memory, you were hardly in any fit state to pry yourself up off the sofa let alone walk around the block. And two - even if you could walk, you would’ve still had to muster up the courage to step outside your front door. Bumping into Yoongi and having him run away from you twice in one day was far too distressing a prospect for you to even consider attempting to move.

Instead, you’d spent the rest of the afternoon lying about on the sofa, wallowing in your own self-pity until you’d fallen asleep in nothing but your towel, drooling all over the cushions. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, but the you of this morning is full of remorse having woken up with the back of her hair sticking out like a bird’s backside, a headache, and a craving for fried food that just won’t subside.

It doesn’t help that Remi’s bouncing off the walls, either, and eventually you come to the conclusion that there’s really no way you can avoid taking her out for any longer. You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and if you see him, well… then you’ll just have to cross that bridge when it comes to it. You’re both adults. This shouldn’t be this big of a deal.

But oh god it totally is because he’s so cute and what if he thinks you looked gross and oh god, oh god, oh god!

But it’s fine. Of course it’s fine, because you tell yourself it’ll be fine, and you didn’t bump into him for months at a time after you’d first moved in so why should it happen again now?

Thankfully, fate appears to be on your side (or taking pity on you, at least). You make it out of your building without seeing neither hide nor hair of your unwitting flashee - if that’s even a word - and despite having forgotten your purse, you still manage to find some change in the depths of your pockets for a snack from the food cart just outside the park.

You munch it happily as Remi leads the way, darting from one side of the sunshine dappled pavement to the other to pee on everything she can find, and you’re just thinking about what a good call it was to get out of the house for a little while when you suddenly hear a familiar voice calling an all-too-familiar name and your stomach drops with dread.

Oh, fate can go fuck herself. Fickle bitch.

You come to an abrupt stop, eyes drawn to where your next-door neighbour is currently frolicking through the small field a little further down the path, just to your right.

Frolicking is probably the wrong word, really, but you’re not sure what to call the gangly waving of arms and legs you can see going on past the small group of trees that’s concealing you from sight. Holly’s off lead, you can tell that much, and Yoongi seems like he's having fun chasing after him, letting out some strange, high-pitched laugh when he almost trips over that has you guffawing in turn - a sound you quickly smother with the napkin you hadn’t yet thought to throw away.

Yoongi drops to his knees amongst the grass and Holly is quick to take advantage, climbing up onto his owner’s lap to lick Yoongi’s face. He groans and he grimaces, but you can still see him smiling as he wipes away the offending slobber, and you’re just about to start swooning at the way he’s lovingly fussing Holly’s ears when Remi startles you out of your reverie with a purposeful tug on her lead.

Just like you, she’s spotted the object of your affections and is now desperate to make her way over, whining and pacing restlessly to and fro.

“Rem, shh!” you hush when she lets out a bark of objection at your attempt to pull her back from the treeline. As much as you enjoy seeing Yoongi you don’t actually want to see him right now, and if Remi keeps going the way she is you won’t end up with much of a choice in the matter.

“Again, Hol?! Really?!” Glancing over, you see Yoongi’s expression turn to one of distaste as Holly dips into a squat right in front of him, not a shred of thought spared for dignity. You figure this is the best time to hurry on past while he’s suitably distracted but Remi doesn’t make it easy, pulling backwards as you try to walk on and then planting her bottom firmly on the ground once she realises brute strength is getting her very far.

“I can just pick you up, you know,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes at her, but just as you’re stalking forward about to carry out the said threat, you’re distracted by the sight of Yoongi rummaging through his pockets, lips moving as though he’s grumbling to himself.

You’ve seen that dance before; it’s one you know well, given how forgetful you can be. He’s either forgotten his poo bags or run out of them altogether, and now you’re faced with the moral dilemma of knowing you have a brand new roll stashed away in your pocket. As if sensing your hesitation, Remi stares at you as you squat down to her level, hands outstretched.

‘Really?’ her eyes say, ‘Are you really going to just let him leave it there? What if someone steps in it? Think of the children -'

“Oh fine!” you huff, standing up straight and marching out onto the grass before you lose your nerve, Remi trotting along happily at your side.

Must you really be so god damn conscientious all the time? You swear it causes you nothing but trouble.

Before Yoongi’s even realised you’re there, you’re grabbing the roll from your pocket and thrusting it into his line of sight.

“Here,” you offer as he startles, glancing from you down to Remi in momentary bewilderment. You hadn’t meant to sound so gruff but unless you’d forced the word out you probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything at all, so you plaster a nervous smile onto your face in time for when he looks at you again, willing your posture to relax.

“Uh, thanks,” he says he takes them from your palm and pulls one off, quickly putting it to good use. Rather than stand there staring you turn your attention to Remi, mortified to see she’s taken a break from dancing back and forth with Holly in favour of sitting and licking her genitals in the most unladylike fashion.

“Why don’t you go have a run with Holly and just… not do that,” you mumble as you bend to unclip the lead from her harness, granting her freedom. She takes you up on your offer immediately, and the moment she’s loose the two of them go bounding off across the field as fast as they can go, Holly’s ears flapping in the wind. You let out a laugh as Remi manages to dodge and weave around the slightly smaller dog, never quite letting him catch her but keeping close enough to maintain his interest.

If only you were so skilled at the whole ‘treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen’ thing…

“She’s really fast,” Yoongi comments, and as soon as he speaks it’s as though all the awkwardness comes flooding back for the both of you. He can’t even seem to look you in the eye. “For a little dog.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle back in the direction of your shoes, “She’s always acted like she’s twice her size. Too big for her boots.”

The two of you lapse into silence, Yoongi’s hands shuffling in his pockets whilst yours mess with your sleeves. If only you could be so carefree as your canine companions who’ve now ceased their running and are circling around one another instead, sniffing each other out. They’re having a great time, whereas the silence between you is quickly beginning to feel stifling, and you soon come to the conclusion that awkward or not, leaving things unaddressed like this is doing no good. You’re just going to have to say something, even if it’s just to apologise and-

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi suddenly blurts out just as you were opening your mouth to do the same. Your eyes meet and then quickly dart away again, cheeks flushed with heat. “I didn’t mean to walk in- I mean, I didn’t realise you were home.”

“That’s ok,” you rush to excuse, “It was my fault, I should’ve let you know I wasn’t working.” You brave a look at him, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry if I… gave you a shock.” Yoongi shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ve seen worse, believe me,” he chortles, and then as if suddenly realising what it is he’s just said his eyes ping open wide and his face fills with colour. “Sorry, that sounded bad, I-” He stops talking when he notices you’ve startled giggling at his expense, your shoulders shaking with mirth. What he said wasn’t even that funny - hell, some might even be insulted - but he just looks so adorable when he gets all flustered that you just can’t help yourself. It’s either laugh or start cooing and pinching his cheeks, and you doubt he’d appreciate the latter. Soon enough, he’s chuckling along too - albeit rubbing at the flush on his neck as he does so.

“Is it just me or have you noticed how all of our conversations seem to end up with one us apologising?” you observe once you’ve managed to stifle your giggling, happy with how much lighter the mood feels now that you’ve aired everything out.

“I hadn’t until you just pointed it out,” Yoongi admits, absently swinging the hand in which he’s holding Holly’s lead as he looks out across the field towards the two of them. His profile is so pretty; such a sharp jaw for such rounded cheeks to sit on. “I must make an effort to be more interesting.”

“You’re already plenty interesting.” The words are out of your mouth before they’ve even taken form in your head, and you instantly wish you could catch them and stuff them back in as Yoongi’s eyebrows rise, his head turning to look back your way. “I mean… what I meant was-” you stammer as the smallest of smiles tugs at his delicate lips, and though you love to see it you can’t bear to look him right now, too busy wishing the ground would just swallow you up and-

“Shit!” You sharply look up, just in time to see Yoongi take off running at full speed, and your heart starts pounding for a completely different reason as you look ahead to where he’s headed and realise what it is that has him moving so fast.

Where the two dogs had been so happily sniffing around one another just a moment ago, Remi now seems to be in some sort of distress. You immediately assume they’re fighting given how loud she’s whining, but as you take in the sight of Holly mounting her rear end you very quickly come to realise it’s the very opposite of fighting that’s the problem and start running after Yoongi, shouting in a futile attempt to discourage the two.

You hadn’t even realised Remi was in heat, for Christ’s sake! No wonder she was so keen on saying hello to Holly, today of all days!

As luck would have it, Yoongi reaches them two just in time to intervene. His owner’s arm-waving and shouting startles Holly so much that he dismounts without Yoongi even having to touch him, and whilst their owners are left out of breath and harrowed to the core, the two dogs go on about their business like nothing’s happened at all.

“I’m sorry,” you gush, hands shaking you’re so flustered, “I didn’t realise she was in season.”

There you go apologising again…

You quickly go about putting Remi back on the lead as Yoongi does the same, and she’s all innocent eyes as she gazes up at you wondering what all the fuss is about.

“It should be ok, I think.” With Holly firmly back in hand, Yoongi takes a moment to straighten out his beanie that’d come all askew. “They didn’t… uh…”

“Yeah, no, I know what you mean,” you interject rather than have him saying it out loud. They didn’t get stuck together is what he was probably trying to say, and really you’d rather not have a conversation about knotting right now. You’ve had more than enough embarrassment for one day, thank you very much.

“I think I should get this one home before we have any more near-accidents,” Yoongi muses, frowning as he looks down at Holly who’s still clearly expressing an interest, nose twitching in Remi’s direction.

“Sure,” you agree, “And maybe we should hold off on the joint walks for a week or so?” You hate to suggest it because you know Remi’s going to be absolutely miserable without them, and you’re sure Yoongi would keep a close eye on them from now on, but it’s just not worth the risk. “Just until her heat is over, anyway.”

“Yeah, probably best.” You expect that to be it, then, but much to your surprise Yoongi suddenly breaches the gap between you and bends in front of Remi, scratching her under the chin just as you know she likes. “See you soon girl, ok?” he promises, and you swear you feel your knees weaken slightly at the way he says it in that low, dulcet tone of his. And if they didn’t then, then they most definitely do when he looks up at you and smiles, the sunlight catching his eyes.

“Yeah, see you later.” Starstruck, you answer somewhat robotically as he stands back to normal height with that same small smile still playing on his lips.

“Later,” he says, making himself scarce before anything else has a chance to go wrong.

You take a moment just to close your eyes; to collect yourself and calm your heart. Remi's innocent little face is awaiting you once they open again, gazing up at you as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and you can't help but soften as you bend down and run your fingers through her fur, sighing.

"I know he's cute, Rem," you say, and part of you wonders whether it's Holly or Yoongi that you're talking about; Remi or yourself that you're talking to. "But you can't just go giving up the goods like that!" She ever so sweetly licks your fingers - as if in penance - and you can’t help but wonder to yourself whether either of you is even really listening.

At least she has the excuse of not being able to understand a word; you’re not sure what excuse your subconscious has for the numerous dreams it inflicts on you in the nights that follow. Dreams of dark eyes, deep voices and long, wandering fingers that seem to linger on your skin even into wakefulness. It doesn’t seem fair that whilst your sightings of the ‘real life’ Yoongi remain as sporadic and elusive as ever, you’re being haunted by his ever-so-alluring dream counterpart.

It’s a stupid crush, really. You know it is. Your attraction to him is based on little more than his looks and the few short (and embarrassing) interactions you’ve had with the guy, and no-one is worth the realisation that you’re starting to resent your dog for all the time she gets to spend prancing around the park with him that you don’t. That's a new low, even for you.

You’re just going to have to get over it, and as a couple of weeks go by with no further interaction between the two of you aside from the odd little post-it note left on your kitchen countertop once Remi's daily walks recommence, it gets a little easier to distract yourself from dwelling on the butterflies your next-door neighbour had been making you feel.

Besides, if Yoongi was interested in pursuing something more than being your acquaintance surely he would’ve done it by now? There’s no need for you to go messing up an arrangement that’s already working so well by getting feelings involved, especially if they’re not mutual. Remi would kill you. Or worse, Yoongi might start to think of charging you for his services rather than walking her out of the goodness of his heart. Your new job may be going well, but that’s still not an option you’re in the position to afford.

You feel as though you should do something for him, though. You get the feeling Yoongi probably isn’t the type to appreciate a thank you card, and you’re not a good enough baker to go whipping up a batch of cookies or something else of the like. Maybe you could splash out on a new piece of recording equipment the next time you get paid? Hmm, but then that would require actually asking him what he wants, and no doubt it’ll be pricey if he’s using professional kit… Maybe you should just-

“Oh, no, no, Remi, not there! No!” Panicked, you quickly pick Remi up off the sofa and rush her into the kitchen. She continues retching even whilst in your arms and doesn’t stop until she’s finally thrown up this morning’s breakfast all over your laminate floor, uncaring of your whines of protest or the wrinkling of your nose.

“See this is why-” You groan with effort as you have to pick her up and move her out of the way to keep her from licking it all back up again. You swear to god she’s getting heavier. “-This is why you shouldn’t wolf everything down so fast!”

Not that she’s ever had any issues with eating so quickly in the past. Remi’s always gobbled down her food but it’s only the last day or two that she’s started bringing it back up again, and maybe it’d worry you if she seemed unwell in any other way, but she’s acting perfectly fine. A little needier, perhaps, but you figure that’s just down to her missing her new playmate; she certainly isn’t shy about whining and pining after him whenever she can hear Holly next door.

You’d even knocked on Yoongi’s door to check with him whether he thought Remi had seemed out of sorts at all, but he’d said he hadn’t noticed anything obvious either. She’s not eating anything that she shouldn’t be and you haven’t changed her brand of food. Sure, she might be eating a little bit extra of it lately but it can’t just be that, surely?

Every sane person knows you shouldn’t google symptoms, but after you’ve cleaned up Remi’s mess and settled back down on the sofa, that's exactly what you find yourself doing. With her curled up at your side, you scare yourself to death reading through all the horrible things that may or may not be the cause. Parasites, liver failure, gastrointestinal blockages - none of them quite make sense because she’s perfectly fine - but as you continue to scroll there one possible explanation that catches your eye.

Pregnancy.

And suddenly it all clicks into place; Remi’s increased appetite, her cuddliness, the vomiting. She’s pregnant!

You twist in your seat, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form with wide eyes and a furiously beating heart, unable to comprehend that this might be true. Your gaze strays to her stomach as though it might suddenly appear swollen now that the secret is out, but with all her long fur as covering she looks as normal as ever, leg twitching as she dreams.

How can she be pregnant?! You warned her about this - about giving away the goods too fast - and now look what’s happened! Holly didn’t… they didn’t even…!

Remi lets out a yelp of surprise as you suddenly scoop her up off the sofa and rush to your front door, in such a hurry that you don’t even bother to shut it after you as you storm down the hall. Calling Yoongi’s name, you bang your clenched fist against his door with little care for how hysterical you might sound.

Hell, you are hysterical! What the bloody hell are you supposed to do with a litter of puppies?! Your apartment is barely big enough for you and Remi, nevermind however many offspring she may be carrying!

Yoongi’s bleary-eyed once he finally comes to the door, sleepiness adding to the bewilderment with which he squints at the sight of you red-faced and near hyperventilating. It’s shameful that even as worked up as you are that your gaze still strays, unable to resist the lure of checking Yoongi out in his baggy tee and basketball shorts. How is it that even his knobbly knees are so cute?!

“Hey,” he greets, trying and failing to stifle a yawn that gives you an ever so lovely view of his tonsils. He must’ve been up late working, and for just a moment you almost feel guilty for waking him up until Holly suddenly comes running to the front door as well. Catching sight of Remi in your arms, he immediately starts to jump up your legs to try and reach her despite the death glare he’s greeted with. “What’s up?”

“She’s pregnant,” you blurt out, thrusting Remi forward before placing her down on the floor so she and Holly can greet one another. You can’t see the harm, after all. It’s not as if he can go knocking her up again . Yoongi’s brow furrows, head tilting as he sluggishly blinks, struggling to process this new information.

“Sorry?”

“Remi, she’s pregnant,” you state again, folding your arms across your chest as the words suddenly sink in and Yoongi's gaze plummets to the dogs at his feet. “Holly knocked her up.” For a moment, Yoongi says nothing. All he does is stand there, rubbing the back of his neck as Remi affectionately nips and nuzzles at Holly, tugging on his ears.

Finally, he looks up, eyebrows furrowed even deeper now.

“How do you know it was Holly?” Is he serious ?! “I mean, you never know. When they’re in heat they-”

“Are you calling my dog a slut?!” you shriek, stepping forward so both Yoongi and the dogs are forced to move to accommodate your wrath. He flinches, stepping back as the dogs scamper off somewhere further into the apartment. “You were there! We both saw them-” Your arms flap as you search for the word, so outraged your face feels as though it’s on fire from all the red-hot blood rushing through your veins. “- Canoodling !”

If Yoongi weren’t so cute, you swear to god you’d kick him in the shins for the way the corners of his lips twitch at your choice of words.

“Ok, alright,” he relents, cleverly deducing that trying to reason with you right now would be a fool’s game. He glances over at the dogs, now cuddled up together in one of his armchairs. “Just… how about we hold off on the meltdown until after we’re sure?” Your eyes narrow despite knowing he’s right, unwilling to admit that just yet.

There’s always the possibility you could be wrong. The website you were looking at had so many different potential causes for her symptoms that it wouldn’t be impossible for it to be something else. It might even turn out to be nothing at all.

“I guess,” you admit after a moment has passed, unfolding your arms and letting them fall to your sides as you will your shoulders to relax.

“The vet can do a scan, right?” Yoongi suggests, “Then we can figure out what to do if…” He glances at them again, drawing your eyes their way. You have to admit they do make a very sweet looking couple, all curled up together like that. “... if she is.”

You bite your lip at the thought of the potential cost - you’ve got no idea how much it might cost or even when the right time to book it would be. As if reading your mind, Yoongi speaks up again, rubbing at his neck once again.

“I don’t mind splitting the cost if you want,” he offers, though he sounds a little awkward. “You’re probably right about it being Holly…” ‘Probably’ is a bit of an understatement, you think, but you’re not about to argue the semantics. If you’re honest, you’re just feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this; by the situation in itself and how level-headed and kind Yoongi has been to step up on Holly’s behalf so quickly.

“They are a bit smitten with each other, aren’t they?” you smile, feeling a little calmer. This could be a lot worse, you suppose. The father could’ve just been some random dog in the park and you’d have been left facing this all alone.

“Just a little,” he agrees, hands rested on his hips, and you swear the smile that blossoms on his face as he looks over at them is the sweetest one you’ve ever seen - your heart fluttering despite the promise you made yourself to get over this little crush.

They’re not the only ones at risk of getting smitten, you think.

“Anyway.” You clear your throat in a futile attempt to get a hold of yourself. “Sorry for just barging round. We’ll get going and let you get some more sleep.” You call Remi’s name and she sleepily raises her head, refusing to move until you call her twice more, clapping your hands.

“No worries. It’s about time I got up,” he says. “And what happened to us not saying sorry all the time, hm?” Yoongi smiles crookedly, folding his arms, and god, it’s only the slightest bit of friendly teasing, so why is your heart racing so fast?

“Whoops,” you giggle, acutely aware of the blush that’s warming your cheeks as you scoop Remi up in your arms. “I’ll try to do better.”

“Then I'll expect your best,” Yoongi grins as he escorts you back to the door, and you swear to god you’re about to spontaneously combust any second.

“I’ll let you know about the scan, ok?” He nods, returning your little wave as you say goodbye and then shutting the door before Holly has the chance to escape out into the hall after you. You pause on the doorstep, willing your heart to calm down.

“Oh you’re one to talk,” you hiss back at Remi when you notice her stare, wide-eyed and unblinking. The two of you wouldn’t be in this mess if she could’ve just kept it in her pants. “You better hope I’m wrong about this, missus.”

You’re not, though. The ultrasound scan that you attend the following week confirms your suspicions; Remi’s pregnant, about four weeks gone, and though the vet couldn’t be sure, she’d estimated her to be carrying at least three puppies. She sends you away with her congratulations and an armful of literature - essentially the doggy equivalent of ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’ - and you spend the next hour after you leave the vets wandering the pet store aisles in some kind of daze, desperately trying to figure out which food you should buy.

“Do you have any idea-” Yoongi looks surprised to see you when he opens the front door - Remi’s lead in one hand and a deluxe bag of dog food tucked under the other. “-How many different varieties of grain-free puppy food there are, Yoongi?” He blinks, unsure, so you answer for him. “Twelve.” You can feel the bag starting to slip but you’re lacking the motivation to stop it, too overwhelmed from the morning you’ve had to want to fight anymore. “Twelve. And not one single store assistant could tell me what the hell difference there is between any of them.” The bag finally falls but luckily Yoongi’s right there to catch it, a furrow of concern creasing his brow. “And it’s not even for the puppies.”

“You… look like you could use a coffee,” Yoongi observes, stepping back from his doorway as he holds the bag against his chest.

“Yes, thank you,” you sigh, stepping inside and bending down to let Remi off her lead as Yoongi puts the bag down by the front door and closes it.

“So she’s definitely pregnant, then?” he asks as he reaches down to fuss Remi when she over bounds his way, tail wagging. Holly follows quickly after but it’s not Yoongi he’s interested in - he’s too busy sniffing and licking at the bag of food.

“Yep. Triplets, apparently. Or more, if we’re really lucky.” Yoongi chuckles softly at the sarcasm in your tone, a faint smile on his face as he rounds the kitchen island and pulls out a stool on which you promptly sit, resting your elbows on the counter.

You hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate the decor the last time you got a glimpse inside Yoongi’s apartment, but now that you’ve got a minute you can’t help but notice how nicely put together the place is. Yes, there’s some dirty dishware in the kitchen sink, and yes, his apartment is pretty much the same as yours in layout - just the other way around - but the warm, earthy tones of the place make it feel… cosier somehow. More homely than the stark white walls and metallic countertops your ex-boyfriend had insisted you install back at your place.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee grabs your attention, and you watch quietly as he pours you each a cup from a fancy looking cafetiere. He’s surprisingly delicate in the way he moves - his long fingers deft and precise.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Yes. And two please,” you mumble, still wallowing in your perceived misfortune. At least you’ve got a nice view; Yoongi’s looking especially cute today in ripped jeans and a sweater that looks far too large, sleeves dangling as he reaches into the fridge.

He takes his coffee with just the slightest touch of milk. No sugar.

“It’s not the end of the world,” he says eventually, breaking what would have been silence if it weren’t for the sounds of Remi and Holly play-fighting in the living room. You swallow the sip of coffee you’d just taken - infinitely more flavorful than the cheap instant stuff you use at home.

“I know,” you relent with a sigh. You just hate feeling so out of your depth! Usually, you research to death any kind of life choice you’re about to make - weighing out the pros and cons, thinking of any possible eventuality and most likely talking yourself out of it in the meantime - but you know nothing about dog breeding or raising puppies. You’d never forgive yourself if you inadvertently did something wrong and Remi ended up getting sick or one of the puppies got hurt or-

“My brother’s dog had puppies a couple years back, I can give him a call,” Yoongi says, as calm and level-headed as ever, “We go halves on everything and then split the profits afterwards.”

“You think we should sell them?”

“Well I hadn’t really planned on getting another dog anytime soon.” His lips curve into a smile against the edge of his cup and you can’t help but smile in return, sighing again.

“You think people will want them?” you ask after taking another sip and Yoongi puts down his cup to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“I did a little research,” he says, rounding the counter to come and stand next to you, thumb tapping away at the screen. Standing this close you’re able to smell his cologne; a soft yet masculine scent. Does he realise how close he is, you wonder? Or rather, does he have any idea how he’s got every single one of your nerve endings on high alert? “Look,” he instructs, turning his phone your way to show you a picture of one of the most adorable little dogs you've ever seen. It's got Remi's pointed little nose and brilliant white fur, but being half poodle that fur is slightly curly rather than straight, and unlike Remi's pointed ears, this dog's are long and floppy just like Holly's.

In short, it's frickin adorable.

"Oh my god!" you squeal before you can help yourself, stealing the phone from Yoongi's grasp to get an even closer look. You keep scrolling through Google images and you swear each puppy is even cuter than the last, knees bouncing under the counter as your thumb relentlessly swipes.

You totally miss the fondness with which Yoongi observes your excitement. He's usually rather possessive over his tech, but you're just so enthusiastic he can't bring himself to cut your 'ooh-ing' and 'aww-ing' short - especially given how miserable you looked when you first arrived. "They're so adorable, oh my gosh."

"I don't think we'll have any trouble finding buyers if they come out looking like that," he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket once you coyly handed it back, careful to avoid the brushing of your fingers.

"No, you're probably right." If anything, you'll probably have trouble giving them up yourself! Yoongi returns safely to the other side of the counter, smiling softly as he picks up his cup in both hands and takes another sip.

"We'll figure it out," he assures you, and somehow, despite all your anxieties and doubts, there's something about Yoongi's voice that makes you put all your faith in him.

Mind now at rest, the two of you chat whilst you finish your coffees, not just about the dogs but other things as well; his impressive home entertainment system, your plans for Christmas and various theories about the strange Mr Jung who lives alone on the floor below and yet can be heard shouting all hours of the day.

It feels so easy to talk to him. Familiar, almost. Like you and Yoongi knew each other in a past life and have somehow found one another again.

Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic who's reading way too much into things but hey, you're not hurting anyone. Just yourself, maybe, and you can live with that.

"Thanks for the coffee," you smile as the conversation reaches a natural lull. You're reluctant to leave but you'd rather not risk overstaying your welcome and turn what has been a lovely interaction sour.

"Any time," Yoongi smiles in return. This time you don't manage to avoid the brushing of your fingers as you hand your coffee cup back, and as your fingertips touch you end up pressing your thighs together under the counter from the thrill that runs through you. Thank god he doesn't see it, lest Yoongi realises just how sexually deprived you've been since you and your ex broke up.

Better leave now whilst you still have some semblance of self-control left.

"Ok Rem, time to head on home," you call, slipping off the stool. You pause, expecting to hear the jingling of the bell on her collar as she trots her way over to you, but nothing comes. "Remi?" You make your way into the living room only to find her curled up with Holly in that same spot on the sofa as last time, and if she heard you then she's certainly not acting as though she did. "Rem, c'mon, gotta go." Lazily, they lift their heads in perfect unison and yet Remi remains unmoving, yawning and stretching as Holly rolls onto his back.

Glancing behind you, you ensure Yoongi is well out of earshot before squatting down so that you and Remi are eye to eye.

"Look, I don't want to go either, but we don't want to overstay our welcome now, do we?" you whisper quietly, giving her fair warning before you slip your hands under her fuzzy little body and lift her from the seat.

"Don't be sad." You almost jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear Yoongi right behind you, very nearly dropping Remi in your haste to turn around. Apparently, Yoongi isn't a great believer in personal space (or else is oblivious to it) because he's close enough that he doesn't have to move an inch in order to reach out and stroke her fur, smiling. "We'll see each other soon," he reassures, looking up at you before adding, "Won't we?"

"Yeah, definitely," you confirm, nodding like an idiot, and as though she understands Remi gives a little low rumble of contentment as she leans her head back against your chest, exposing her chin for scratches that Yoongi can't resist supplying.

"I'll come fetch her for her walk tomorrow as normal." Yoongi pauses as he withdraws his affection, scratching behind his ear and keeping his eyes on Remi as he asks, "You are working tomorrow, aren't you?"

Instantly, your cheeks flush with heat as you realise his intention for asking. "Y-yeah." God forbid he almost walk in on you semi-nude all over again… "Thanks."

"No problem," he smiles, meeting your gaze. You shyly return his smile, unable to think of anything more to say as he sees you to the door except to wish him goodbye, blushing once more when he quietly utters it back along with your name.

It should be criminal for someone so good looking to have a voice so sexy. How's a girl supposed to stand a chance? Even when you're no longer in his presence, you can't stop thinking about him; his calm demeanour, his subtle smiles, the warmth he exudes around both Remi and Holly. If he were just attractive that would be one thing, but now you're getting to know him more, little by little… boy, you're in trouble.

And Remi doesn't seem to be faring much better, either. Every small noise from next door that could possibly be her four-legged love has her pacing and whining, so eager to go to see him that every time you come home you have to be careful she doesn't dart out into the hallway between your legs and go scratching at Yoongi's door.

Apparently, Remi's not concerned with the notion of looking desperate, which is why one evening when you come home and you're met with nothing more than silence and an empty apartment, you're more than just a little worried.

Has she climbed her way out onto the balcony? Shimmied across the window ledges mission impossible style in a desperate attempt to reach Holly next door?

Unlikely, but you follow your gut instinct anyway and head over to Yoongi's as calmly as you can. You take a deep, steadying breath as you knock on his door, trying to keep the rising sense of panic at bay. You've already had a not so great day at work - too many customers with not enough manners. The last thing you need now is a missing dog to add to the list.

"Have you seen Remi?" you blurt out as soon as the door starts to open, frowning from the headache throbbing at the back of your skull. "I just got home and she's not there and-"

Yoongi's mouth opens but he has the chance to speak, the sound of Remi's bell does all the talking for him, jingling loudly as she comes running towards the door.

"Hey you!" Your knees click as you bend down to fuss her, one hand on the hem of your skirt to make sure it doesn't ride up too far. "You scared me!" Remorseless, Remi flops onto her side and cocks her leg up in invitation for you to stroke her stomach. It's slowly starting to expand underneath all the fuzz, and despite your recent panic you still can't help but smile to feel it.

"Sorry, should've left a note." Behind you, you hear the front door click shut. Remi quickly has her fill of tummy rubs, and as she runs away back to Holly, you stand up straight and turn to Yoongi, endeared by the uneasy expression on his face and the awkwardness with which he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I keep hearing her whining after I've dropped her off, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for her to just stay a while longer 'till you get home."

God, there he goes again being an absolute sweetheart.

"Shouldn't have just assumed," he apologises but you're quick to wave it off, smiling.

"Not at all. Just glad she's safe." Yoongi smiles, hands coming out of his pockets, and as he walks on past you into the kitchen you're suddenly hit with the smell of cooking; onions and garlic and a sweet-smelling sauce.

"You hungry?" he asks as he approaches the stove.

You can't resist the opportunity to take a really good look at him whilst his back is turned; the epitome of effortless style in his open plaid shirt and skinny jeans. He's barefoot, you realise, and you're not sure why you find that so attractive but you're not about to go analysing it now. Not when he's turned to look at you so expectantly - almost like you've completely missed something he's just said in favour of ogling how nicely the pockets of his jeans frame each of his perfect little butt cheeks.

"Sorry?" you ask stupidly.

"I always make too much," he says, mercifully turning back to his frying pan quick enough that he might have missed the blush on your cheeks. "Plenty to go around. If you want."

Wait. Is Yoongi… Asking you to stay for dinner? And do your eyes deceive you, or is the back of his neck turning a delightful shade of pink as he waits for you to answer?

No. No, that'd just be ridiculous. You're just leaping to conclusions - presumptuous and delusional - but then… why are there already two place settings laid out on his small dining table? Why is there an extra wine glass standing empty on the counter next to the one that's only half full?

Did he… plan this out? Hell, if he did, you're not about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth. Fighting back a nervous smile, you remove your cardigan and hang it over the back of one of his bar stools as casually as you can.

"Sure," you agree, untucking your blouse from your skirt before sliding onto the same stool to watch Yoongi plate up. "Smells a lot better than anything I could cook up." Would it be too much to go unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your blouse too? Show a little skin?

You're reaching to do just that when suddenly Yoongi turns around with his frying pan in hand and you promptly chicken out, clearing your throat. From behind you, Holly and Remi come running into the room, and Yoongi gets distracted when your little lady starts pawing at his leg, vying for attention.

"You want another treat, huh?" With his free hand, he plucks a little brown ball off of a baking tray by the sink and promptly throws it up in the air for Remi to catch, and as soon as it's within her jaws she lies down and merrily begins to chomp, crunching and munching away.

"What's that?" you enquire as Yoongi recommences dishing up, spooning a chicken and vegetable something or other onto a bed of rice. It's a good job you're not a fussy eater or else you might be slightly alarmed that he hasn't even told you what you're having…"The treat, I mean." He looks up from sliding his frying pan into soapy water already waiting in the sink, glancing down at Remi.

"Just some recipe I found online," he explains, casual as ever. He brings over the wine glass you'd noticed earlier and offers to fill it with a tilt of the bottle, doing so when you nod. "She needs the extra calories."

"You made them yourself?" you ask, incredulous that Yoongi would go so far and be so considerate as to go searching for homemade doggie treats. He nods somewhat bashfully, avoiding your gaze as he carries both your plates over to the table and takes a seat. "You're unbelievable," you laugh before you can help yourself, wine glass cradled in both hands as you join him at the table.

Perhaps it might be best not to drink too much of said wine. Seems your tongue is loose enough already without adding extra lubrication.

“I just mean-” You hasten to explain your brazen compliment, not missing the way Yoongi’s eyebrows lift in surprise when you reach for chopsticks rather than the knife and fork he’d placed beside your plate. “- My ex couldn’t even be bothered to learn how to use the washing machine, nevermind bake little organic dog treats in his spare time.”

Glancing over at Remi, you see her standing on her hind legs against the kitchen cupboards in desperate hope for more, and damn, now you’ve gotten a taste of Yoongi’s cooking you can totally understand why!

“Oh my god ,” you groan around your mouthful, chopsticks clicking frantically as you gather up the next, completely distracted from whatever the hell it was you were just saying.

“It wasn’t all organic,” you hear Yoongi mumble, cheeks pink as he takes a sip of his wine. Is that just a little alcohol-induced flush you spy? Or is he secretly flattered? “Just the peanut butter.” You smile, chewing ceaselessly as Yoongi deposits one very large mouthful into his not-nearly-so-small-as-it-looks mouth. He fills his cheeks so full that for a few glorious seconds he resembles some kind of adorable human/hamster hybrid; so cute you just want to reach out and-

"Always had your ex pegged as kind of an asshole, to be honest," Yoongi admits, eyes focused on his plate, and it's not so much the talking with his mouth full that has you nearly choking on your food - it's the bluntness with which he does it. He looks up as you splutter, reaching for your wine. "No offence." He looks mildly alarmed as you cough once more. "It's just I used to hear him all the time through the walls, shouting his mouth off."

"None taken," you wheeze, taking a sip of wine to clear the tickle that's left in your throat. Your eyes are watering and no doubt your face is red, but that's the least of your worries right now, mortified to imagine just how many arguments Yoongi must've overheard during all the time that douchebag was part of your life.

"Sorry if I'm overstepping the mark…" You shake your head quickly, waving off his concerns as Remi and Holly come trotting over as though to check on you. Not that you're so naive as to really believe that - no doubt they're here to scavenge scraps off of the table rather than to ensure your wellbeing.

"Not at all," you chuckle, "Asshole is probably putting it lightly. Never really have had the best taste in men." Yoongi exhales a breathy laugh, smiling wryly.

"Gotta kiss a few frogs to find the Prince, right?" You end up smiling even harder at that, snorting into your wine. A few is probably an understatement, but that's not information Yoongi needs to know.

"Sure he'll turn up one day," you muse, sounding ever so slightly wistful. Your eyes meet Yoongi's from across the table and a beat passes, no words said as the two of you look at one another. You don't dare move - even breathe - lest you risk breaking… whatever this moment between you may be.

Unexpectedly, you feel soft fur against the bare skin of your leg and it startles you despite knowing full well what it is. When you look down, you see Remi staring at you meaningfully, her eyes locked with yours even as she trots her way to the other end of the table to paw at Yoongi's leg, asking for a fuss.

'I like this one, ' her eyes seem to say as Yoongi reaches down to pet her, smiling fondly, 'You should give this one a try.'

Oh, if only.

“We can do this more often if you want,” Yoongi offers as his attention returns to his food. “I don’t mind watching her ‘till you get back from work.”

“Are you sure?” Once again you’re floored by Yoongi’s casual generosity. He doesn’t even look up as he bobs his head in confirmation, his mouth too full to respond.

“She’s no trouble,” he tells you once he’s eventually swallowed, “And Holly likes having her around.”

“That’d be amazing,” you smile, “Thank you.” He returns your smile - small, short and sweet - and you swear each and every time he flashes you a grin you end up falling just that little bit more.

"Does that mean I have even more delicious dinners to look forward to?" you ask, surprising yourself with how flirty you sound. How brave.

Yoongi laughs at your forwardness, sputtering into his wine. You don't really expect him to answer - assume he'll just laugh it off and not say anything at all - but Yoongi looks rather serious as he puts down his glass; his gaze so intense that for a second you actually forget how to chew.

"If you're lucky," he promises, and oh boy, you hope you will be. "But next time, you bring the wine."

And so, you do.

Every night throughout the week that follows, you pay a visit to the corner store on your way home to pick up a bottle of white, or rose, or red. You're fairly certain the cashier might suspect you of having some sort of drinking problem, actually, but Yoongi's been so grateful that you can't stand the thought of turning up empty-handed. And It’s not even as though you always drink the whole bottle, anyway. It’s just a glass with dinner on Wednesday and Thursday, and then one extra on Friday and Saturday when Yoongi invites you to stay a little longer.

And ok, so maybe he doesn’t actually ask you to stay, but when a guy starts asking whether you’ve seen this new show he really likes and turns on Netflix, what are you supposed to think?

You end up thoroughly enjoying the hours you waste away sitting at the opposite end of his sofa with Remi in your lap, even the lazy Sunday evening that Yoongi spends watching some god-awful competitive fishing show that you pretend to like just because it makes him smile.

It’s funny how simple a creature Yoongi turns out to be, considering how mysterious he’d first seemed. He’s a man of few words but what he does say is always interesting, and you’d like to think you’ve gotten to know him pretty well as the week’s gone by. He’s considerate and hard-working, introverted and yet speaks so fondly of the few friends he professes to have. He loves music and fishing, cooking and expensive wine, and when he’s tipsy his voice gets even slower and deeper - his tone so dulcet that you could happily listen to him talk all night.

By the end of the week you’ve spent more time in Yoongi’s apartment than you have your own, and you won’t pretend for even a second that you’ve thought that it’s a bad thing. You’re well and truly smitten; the favourite part of your day now the moment you come home and have both Yoongi and the dogs there to greet you, even though that home is not your own.

Picturing that - thinking of him - is the only thing that’s gotten you through the shittiness of your last few hours at work. You really do enjoy your job, for the most part, but some days are inevitably better than others and today… today was a bad, bad, bad day. The kind of bad day that has you searching the liquor aisle for the whisky with the highest volume of alcohol you can possibly find - the same bottle that you later slam down on Yoongi’s kitchen counter having already let yourself into his apartment, sighing every step of the way.

“Bad day?” he asks, not yet having turned around to see the miserable look on your face. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, too focused on trying to hold yourself together after having struggled to do so all afternoon, so you stay quiet as you give Remi the fussing she’s after. Her tail is wagging with a glee you’re envious of, her fuzzy tummy growing more and more round by the day.

“I can make this Irish if you want.” You look up to see Yoongi standing beside you with a mug of coffee held in both hands and a soft smile on his face, and suddenly it’s just all too much. The dam inside you that’d slowly begin to crack throughout the day finally bursts at the sight of him - overcome with emotion at having him treat you so kindly after having faced such rudeness and meanness for hours on end.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out as you burst into tears, your elbows meeting the counter as your face falls into your hands, not wanting to have Yoongi see you cry. You can’t see anything with your eyes so tightly screwed shut, but if you could you’d witness the look of shock appear on Yoongi’s face - see his eyes widen and his lips slightly part as the rest of him freezes, unsure of what to do.

You really try your best to stem your tears, but you’re so embarrassed to have him see you like this that it only makes you cry harder, shoulders trembling as you curl in on yourself in an attempt to hide.

“I just h-had such a h-h-horrible day,” you sob, “This one w-woman - this bitch - she was s-so m-mean and she wouldn’t just-” You abruptly stop speaking as an arm is suddenly laid across your shoulders, and before you realise what’s happening you’re being pulled into an embrace; your face nestled into a soft sweater.

“Hey, hey,” you're gently shushed, and it’s not so much that Yoongi's comforting you that helps to calm you down, nor the feel of one of his large hands rubbing up and down the length of your back. It’s more the shock of having Yoongi actually touch you that allows you to finally start catching your breath, your hands unknowingly reaching out to hold onto him. “Whatever happened, it’s over now, right? It’ll be ok,” he soothes.

“Uh-huh,” you whisper into fabric, silently praying that your nose hasn’t run all over it, and although you’re no longer crying you allow yourself a moment more to enjoy the feel of his arms around you. He smells wonderful - his slight body warm and firm pressed against you - and all you want to do is tighten your grip on his sweater and pull him even closer; tilt your head to skim your lips against his throat.

“You ok?” Yoongi asks, and as you finally lift your head and dab away the moisture from under your eyes the last thing you expect is to feel his fingers fleetingly touch your hair. You meet his gaze and the concern you see there is almost enough to make you start crying all over again - but then you watch as his pupils dart back and forth, up and down as he scans your face - and suddenly… suddenly you're kissing him.

Or is it him who's kissing you?

You're not sure who it is that makes the first move, but regardless of whoever the instigator may be, your mouths still meet in the middle. Yoongi's lips are soft but his kiss is firm - purposeful - and utterly takes your breath away. You make a grab for him again, clutching at the fabric at his hip to keep him close as you sweep your tongue across the seam of his lips, Yoongi's hands coming to rest upon your face. They're so warm, so gentle as he traces your cheekbones with his thumbs, and-

All too soon he's pulling away, brought to his senses the moment he feels the moisture that lingers on your cheeks, and the quiet whine of protest that you're unable to hold back has your face burning with shame.

"S-sorry," he rapidly stammers out as he stumbles back out of reach, retreating to the other side of the counter; a barrier between you. His cheeks are flushed with the same heat as yours, unable to meet your eyes as he wipes at the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then rubs the side of his neck. "I didn't mean… I mean… you…"

Oh lord, this is awkward. So, so awkward! What the hell did you have to go and kiss him for?! He looks so painfully uncomfortable right now that you're sure he'd rather melt into the floor than look at you, and oh my god you're such an idiot! What kind of moron goes snogging someone's face off at the slightest bit of physical contact? Are you really that touch deprived?!

"Sorry," he repeats, "You're upset-" You're already up and out of your stool before Yoongi even has the chance to finish his sentence.

"I should just go," you blurt out as you pick Remi up off the floor and into your arms despite her huffed exhale of protest. You're being a coward, you know that, but you're too fragile right now to go through the whole 'let you down gently' routine without sobbing all over again - especially if it's coming from someone you're so crazy about.

No, you'd rather just see yourself out now and save him the bother. Best for everyone if you just pretend this never happened…

"Thanks for watching her." You're moving too quickly for him to protest - to do anything but stand with his mouth agape as you race for the front door like the very flames of hell are licking at your heels.

"Don't forget your-!" you hear Yoongi call, pulling the front door shut behind you too fast to make out the end of his sentence. You scurry down the hall back to your own apartment, and it’s only as you’re struggling to get inside with Remi still balanced on your hip that you realise your hands are lightly shaking.

“Never happened,” you mumble to yourself once you finally get the blasted thing open, relinquishing Remi from where she’d begun to wriggle and squirm in your grasp. “Never happened. It was just one stupid, silly kiss.” You lean back against your front door, exhaling a sigh. “Just… forget about it.”

And oh, you really try. You try everything and anything you can think of to get Yoongi off of your mind, but nothing works; not mindless trash TV, not blasting your favourite tunes while you’re in the shower - not finishing off the bottle of wine leftover from the night before last. If anything, alcohol just makes things ten times worse. As you lie on your bed amidst a tipsy haze, all you can think about is the way his lips felt pressed to yours and of how he tasted like the coffee you hadn’t had the chance to drink. The low noise he’d made in the back of his throat when you’d grabbed at his clothes. It was so hot… he’s so hot, and more than anything you just want to go back there right now and-

You groan aloud in frustration, raking your fingers through your hair to keep them from finding their way into your pants. God, you’re so royally fucked - and not in the way you’re wishing you were - but you’re too far tired and conflicted and just… sad to want to masturbate, no matter how fiercely Yoongi’s kiss may have made you ache. So you ignore it, cocoon yourself in your duvet whilst Remi snores at your feet, and will yourself to fall asleep whilst silently reassuring yourself that tomorrow is another day.

Come the next morning (which is mercifully hangover free), you ready yourself for work repeating just that. Today has to be better - or at least it can't get much worse - and what happened with Yoongi was just… a blip. Carelessness on your part. And knowing Yoongi as you now do, you’re sure he’ll be far too much of a gentleman to mention it anyway.

That’s if he doesn’t ghost you entirely, of course, which is a legitimate possibility.

Luckily, your day does turn out a whole lot better than the one that came before; a small mercy, given how worked up you've been worrying about where to expect to find Remi once you get home. Whether it be in your apartment or Yoongi's, you're unsure which option would be preferable. If she's waiting at Yoongi's you'll have no choice but to go over there and face the consequences of last night's actions - a thought you by no means relish - but if she's at yours… well, you suppose that might just be even worse.

You’re not too proud to admit that Yoongi's help with Remi has been invaluable over the past weeks, and if you're being honest, his friendship has too. You can't imagine going back to the way it was before: barely seeing one another, exchanging nothing but awkward smiles in the hallway. If he were to walk out of your life now you would really, really miss him - to say the least. And that's… kind of terrifying.

At heart, though, you’re a positive person, and you want to believe that things will just carry on the way they have before. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but your hope is what has you stopping by the same old corner store on the way home and picking up a bottle of wine from a brand you know Yoongi likes, just as you’ve done so many times before. And maybe it might be considered hedging your bets, but after the grocery store you head across the street to one of the local takeout places, too. You know Yoongi’s all about meat, meat and more meat when it comes to food, so it’s not hard for you to figure out what to order; lamb skewers, tempura shrimp, spicy pork belly. Some of it you don’t even like yourself, so you hope to god Remi’s waiting at Yoongi’s and not at yours otherwise there’s a hell of a lot of food about to go to waste.

You order so much, in fact, that your arms are aching by the time you get home - though that does nothing to distract you from the way your heart starts to gallop when it comes time to put your keys in the lock and open up your front door. You hold your breath as it swings open, eyes closing for a second as you pray not to hear the click-clack of Remi’s claws on the floor, and when nothing comes you sigh with relief, never so glad to be greeted by an empty home.

“Thank the lord,” you murmur as you place everything down on the kitchen table, figuring you may as well use this chance to quickly get changed and freshen up before heading next door. Normally you’d just go round in your work clothes, and truthfully there’s nothing actually wrong with what you’re already wearing, but you appreciate just a little bit of extra time to mentally prepare.

Not that it helps, of course. Whether in a skirt or jeans, you’re crapping your pants just as much as you knock on his door but you plaster a smile on your face nonetheless, holding aloft your wine and takeout bags as the door starts to open.

“Hi,” you beam as Yoongi appears, “I brought goodies!” He looks mildly taken aback by the sight of you and how bubbly you sound - even more so when you stride forward to enter without him yet having said a word. “You’re not cooking yet,” you observe as you enter the kitchen and hear the front door shut behind you, Yoongi’s soft footfalls across the floor following shortly after, “Good.”

You turn on the spot, grinning inanely as you try not to make it too obvious that you’re checking him out. Must he really look so effortlessly stylish all the time? He even has that whole ‘just got out of bed’ ruffled hair thing going on, and god, you hate him for how badly it makes you want to run your fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“Where’s Rem?” you ask before your thoughts run too far amok, tearing your eyes away from him in favour of peering over his shoulder towards the living room.

“Think they’re in my room,” he explains, fingers fiddling with the arm of the glasses he’s wearing and then straying into his hair to scratch at his scalp. He must’ve been in his studio prior to your arrival - it’s the only time you really ever see him wearing his glasses. “She’s been acting kinda weird today.”

Frowning, you follow after him as he leads you down the hallway towards his bedroom. You try not to focus on the fact that this will have been the first time you’ve seen it, or mourn that now that you are it’s in less-than-sexy circumstances.

“What do you mean ‘weird’?”

“Just… restless, I guess. She didn’t wanna walk but I had to stop her scratching up the carpet ‘cus she keeps wanting to dig.” He pushes open the door and immediately you gasp, freezing in the doorway. Yoongi sighs heavily, surveying the damage before him. “And ruin my bedding, apparently.”

To be fair, it's not really that bad - and you're not just saying that because Remi's your dog and you're a wee bit overprotective, either. Yes, there's one pillow that's been pulled off the bed and had its stuffing ripped out, but aside from that all that's really moved is his sheets, and whilst they've been pulled into a heap the floor there doesn't appear to be any other damage or… bodily fluids amidst them.

"Oh Rem, what've you been up to?" you coo, kneeling down beside the heap of blankets that the two dogs are curled up amongst. Holly comes alive at the sound of your voice, instantly perking up, and within seconds he's on his feet and visiting you and Yoongi in turn for a scratch behind the ears. Remi, however, is somewhat lazier in her response. She lifts her head slowly, emitting a pathetic little sound as she gazes up at you, pointed ears pressed back against the top of her head.

"What's wrong girl?" Concerned, you're cautious in the way you put your hands on her, but you're relieved to find she's just as eager to receive affection as ever. It's only when you run your hand across her belly that she seems to object, her small body tensing.

"She's been in here for a couple hours," Yoongi informs you as he comes to kneel beside you on the carpet. "I tried to feed her dinner but she wasn't interested - thought it might've been something to do with her throwing up earlier on."

"You think we should call the vet?" Yoongi shakes his head as Holly comes to reclaim his spot next to his lady friend. Snuggling in close, he gives her an affectionate lick.

"I thought about it," he admits, giving Remi's head a gentle pat, "But I don't think she's sick. I think she's in labour."

"Really?" Now that you think about it, the time frame does seem about right. You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon…

"Called my brother and he seems to think so." Looking up from Remi your gaze meets Yoongi's, and you figure it must show on your face how overwhelmed you're feeling because the smile that he gives you is a kind one.

"So, what do we do?" you ask, sinking back from your knees and onto your bottom instead, crossing your legs. Yoongi copies you, and for a second your eyes dart to the expanse of skin that's revealed to you through the rip in his jeans, right across the thigh.

"Not much, apparently. Not unless something goes wrong and Remi needs a hand." You feel anxiety twist your expression and Yoongi brow furrows in sympathy, his fingers drumming against his knees. "We've just gotta sit and wait." You chuckle mirthlessly, rolling your eyes.

"Never really been the patient type." Yoongi smiles, rising to his feet and placing his hand on your shoulder as he goes, giving it a squeeze that makes your stomach go topsy-turvy.

"I guess I better go get us some supplies to keep us going then, huh?"

"That'd be good," you smile, blushing as he squeezes it once more before finally letting go. You turn back to Remi as he leaves the room, worrying your bottom lip until you unexpectedly hear him call your name. He lingers in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

"Everything's gonna be fine," he assures you. "Trust me." And somehow, without question, you do.

It's a little odd, really, how effortlessly things have gone back to normal considering what went on between you last night. Perhaps it's the pressure of the unfamiliar situation you've been thrust into that's redirected your attention elsewhere and thereby alleviated the tension. Or maybe it was just never as big of a deal as you'd made it out to be in your head. Either way, you're grateful.

That's not to say there's no tension at all, mind, but rather than making things feel uncomfortable it's more like… like there's a charge between you. A spark. You can feel it all the while you're sat eating dinner together cross-legged on his bedroom floor, lips tingling from how spicy (albeit delicious) the food is. Coy smiles and stolen glances are made amongst idle chit-chat, distracting you from the waves of worry that rise and then recede with each little sound that Remi makes which turn out to be nothing.

You've no idea how long labour usually tends to last for dogs, but you can only hope that if or when you ever decide to have children, that you handle it just as quietly and calmly as Remi. You hope whoever you’re with is attentive as Holly, too, and you know that’s an odd thing to think but you can’t help but admire the way he is with her; laying patiently just a few feet away, his attention unwavering.

Technically you know it isn’t the norm for the ‘daddy dog’ to be around while his bitch is giving birth (or at least so Yoongi had said), just in case his presence made Remi nervous or agitated, but these pair seem to be a bit an anomaly in that respect. When Yoongi had tried to extract Holly from the room prior to eating dinner, Remi had gotten more restless than ever and so you’d been forced to let him back in despite all the guidance advising the contrary. You’ll just have to keep an extra close eye on him when the puppies actually arrive, you suppose, though you know you can rely on Yoongi to keep him in line.

And to be fair, it seems as though you’re able to rely on Yoongi an awful lot in general these days. Having been so preoccupied with your new job you’ve done shamefully little research as to what to expect and how to prepare for Remi to give birth, naively believing that you still had plenty of time to spare.

Lucky for you, Yoongi seems to have everything handled; the ‘supplies’ he’d previously mentioned turning out to be a heap of freshly washed towels, shiny surgical scissors and some sort of sucker device - the likes you imagine to be used for clearing snotty babies noses. You eye it nervously as you finish your last mouthful of shrimp, silently hoping you won’t need anything other than the towels and a little bit of luck.

“Thanks for dinner.” You drag your eyes away from the scissors, Yoongi’s voice having interrupted your thoughts.

“No worries,” you reply, smiling gratefully as Yoongi takes your empty plate from your hands to stack it on top of his own. He puts them aside for a moment as he dutifully tidies everything away, putting the empty food cartons back into the plastic bag from whence they came. “About time I returned the favour.” Yoongi smiles wryly, no doubt too polite to point out that buying takeout and preparing a home-cooked meal isn’t quite the same thing.

“To be honest,” he says, using his preoccupation as a good excuse to avoid your gaze, “I wasn’t sure whether you were even going to come over tonight.”

Well, there goes the hope that you’d get through the evening without last night’s faux pas being mentioned.

“Well, it’s not like I could just leave Remi here…” you mumble, glancing away as Yoongi sits back down beside you having finished clearing up. You don’t want him to think that that’s the only reason you came but you’re not sure what else to say, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your sleeves.

There’s a moment of silence - a pause long enough that it prompts you to look up, and when you do you see that Yoongi looks just as nervous as you feel, picking at his cuticles.

“I…” He hesitates, huffing as though he’s almost frustrated with himself before forcing himself to look at you. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’m glad you did, though. I wanted a chance to say I’m sorry for last night, for-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, surprising yourself. His eyes widen behind his glasses, his mouth hanging open having been caught off guard, and god damn it, he looks adorable. “We’re friends, right? I don’t want us to have to keep apologising to each other all the time for every little thing.” Yoongi nods, shutting his mouth.

Was that… disappointment you saw in his eyes when you referred to him as your friend? Yoongi smiles weakly but it looks forced - unnatural - and it disappears too fast for it to have been real. In its wake a frown appears, one that deepens as his attention returns to Remi, and it makes you ache in your chest to see it. Since you’ve become closer, you’ve gotten so used to seeing his smile and hearing him laugh that this just feels wrong.

All of this - you hiding the way you feel, pretending like last night’s kiss wasn’t the best thing to happen to you in… in forever; acting like Yoongi isn’t the best thing to happen to you in forever - it’s all wrong. You should tell him what he means to you. You need to.

“Yoongi,” you say gently, calling back his attention, and when he looks at you your stomach churns so fiercely with nerves you fear you might lose your dinner. You swallow, trying to get a hold of yourself, and bravely reach out to snatch his hand up from where it rested on his knee, threading your fingers between his. He looks down dumbly at your conjoined hands, eyes even wider than they were before. “I… I didn’t mind it. When you kissed me.” You feel your cheeks burning with heat but force yourself to continue, reassured that Yoongi hasn’t immediately pulled his hand away. “Or when I kissed you. However it happened.” You titter a nervous laugh, acutely aware of how clammy your palms are, and you’re glad to see that Yoongi looks just as affected by your confession as you are; every inch of his skin flushed a pretty blush pink under his normal skin tone. “There was never anything to apologise for.”

You flash him a nervous smile once you’ve finally done talking, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement in hopes that he won’t leave you hanging too long before voicing some sort of reply. A confession of undying love is preferable, obviously, but short of that just knowing he’s not totally repulsed would be enough.

You can’t say you expect the sudden laugh he lets out - nor know what to make of it - and you’re just about to start freaking out and pull your hand away when Yoongi shifts closer to you and places his other hand over the two of yours. The rubbing of his thumb back and forth across your skin helps to calm you, and he’s no longer laughing as he looks into your eyes, taking a breath. He quietly calls your name, leaning closer.

And then suddenly, Remi whines, and the two of you instantly break apart.

“You ok Rem?” Quickly, you rise to your knees and shuffle towards her, frowning with concern. You don’t mean to panic, but this is the first sound of obvious distress you’ve heard from her and you can’t stand the thought of your sweet girl being in pain.

She looks up at you from where she’s nestled amongst Yoongi’s covers, panting hard, and you have to force yourself not to reach out to give her the fussing that you’re longing to. Beside you, Yoongi watches her closely; observes the way she stops panting just for a second or two and seems to stiffen slightly before beginning to pant all over again.

“Is she ok?” you ask, though you’re not sure why you’re presuming that Yoongi will know any more about what’s going on than you do.

Tentatively, Yoong reaches out and lays both hands on Remi’s stomach, waiting for the next pause in her panting. His eyes narrow, fingers twitching atop her fur.

“Her tummy feels hard,” he says, “I think she’s starting to push.”

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath, blushing when Yoongi chuckles in response. He removes his hands from her, placing them back on his lap just in time for Remi to decide she wants to move, and she rises from where’s lain in the duvet all this time and begins to circle and paw at the covers, panting ceaselessly.

“You can do it, girl.” Following Yoongi’s lead, you reach out and gently stroke her back in reassurance, very nearly bursting into tears when Remi chases after your hand when you pull it back, nuzzling into your palm. “We’ve got this.”

The next two hours pass by in something of a blur. You all maintain a careful distance (Holly included), giving affection when it seems like she's in need of it and holding back whenever she seems agitated or restless. She must get up and down to rearrange the sheets underneath her at least a hundred times before the first puppy is born, and you watch on with a mixture of horror and wonderment as it slowly emerges from inside her, trying your best not to cry at the sudden squeal she releases as her baby starts to crown, bottom first.

You won't lie, it's probably one of the most disgusting sights you've ever seen, and yet you can't help but feel overcome with emotion as you watch this puppy arrive into the world, still cocooned in its amniotic sac until Remi instinctively begins to lick it clean. She brings it to life with firm laps of her tongue, not stopping till its little body starts to wriggle and it releases the tiniest of squeaks. Frankly, it's a good job the puppy is so cute, as it gives you something to focus on as Remi decides to chow down on the placenta, thereby separating it from her offspring.

By the time the second puppy is born the first has already started to feed, it's head almost completely hidden by Remi's fur as it latches on. That birth is just as straightforward, too, though Yoongi does have to shorten its umbilical cord slightly when Remi leaves it dangling just a little too long. You're in awe of how confident and competent he seems as he does it, not a hint of hesitation evident on his face from the moment he realises what's needed to the moment it's done.

Ah, if only you could ever be so cool.

It’s only as the third and final puppy is being born that you start to encounter some trouble. You almost start to believe the scan had been wrong and you were only ever expecting two puppies, figuring that Remi must be done having not pushed in almost an hour and a half. But then all of a sudden she’s restless again and after a few minutes more another puppy begins to emerge. The sac of waters around this one looks different - so green and dark that you almost can’t make out what’s inside at all.

“Yoongi.” You say his name out of sheer nervousness, already knowing he’s right there beside you seeing the same very thing. Just like before, the puppy slides out in the amniotic sac onto the towel placed underneath Remi’s back end, but this time she doesn’t seem to pay nearly so much attention to it as she did the others - sparing it just enough licks to break the sac and then turning away, closing her eyes.

All of Remi’s puppies so far have been just as white in colour as Remi herself, and so would this puppy be if its fur weren’t stained an unpleasant shade of green. By Remi’s hind legs it lies limply on the towel; unmoving, unbreathing.

“Yoongi,” you choke out, your eyes spilling over with tears, “Yoongi, it’s not breathing. Yoongi, it-” Stifling a sob, you slap your hands over your mouth as Yoongi springs into action next to you.

Brow furrowed in concentration, he snatches up the scissors and deftly separates the puppy from its placenta just like he did for the one that came before. He scoops it up in both hands and tilts its head down in order to help any fluids that might remain to drain out, murmuring urgently under his breath.

“Pass me the sucker,” he suddenly demands, outstretching his hand, and you rush to obey, your own hands shaking as you place it in his palm and watch on as he precedes to suction each of the puppy’s tiny nostrils and mouth. You pray that that will do the job. To see some sort of response, the tiniest wiggle or smallest of sounds. Anything! But nothing happens - nothing at all - and you can tell even Yoongi’s starting to get desperate.

“C’mon little guy,” he mumbles, wrapping the puppy in the towel and starting to vigorously rub its back, its stomach, its head - up and down all over, over and over again. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Even Yoongi’s eyes are looking glassy now, the tip of his nose turning red as he holds back the tears that you’ve long since succumbed to.

And then, just as your face falls into your hands and a sob shakes your shoulders, you hear the tiniest, most fragile of sounds. A squeak followed by a sharp inhale of breath, and when you sharply look up you see that the tiniest puppy of the litter so far has finally begun to squirm, its mouth opening up wide to display the tiny pink tongue within.

“Oh my god!” You’re half laughing half crying as Yoongi stares down at the new life down within his hands, his eyes wide with wonderment. There are tears trickling down his cheeks but he’s smiling more brightly than you’ve ever seen before, and he’s so heart-breakingly gentle as he lowers the puppy back down to Remi’s level and presents him to her.

“You did so good, girl,” he praises, voice thick with emotion as Remi begins to lick the puppy with renewed enthusiasm. She only stops once Yoongi slowly moves him away to nestle him in between his siblings, encouraging him to feed with softly whispered words of encouragement, and he waits until the puppy is eagerly suckling to finally let go and back off, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"Well, that was-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to finish what he's saying, abruptly silenced apart from the one lone 'oomph' he grunts out as your bodies collide, dropping the towel with which he'd just been wiping his hands.

"You-" you mumble against his lips between each frantic, urgent kiss. "You - are - amazing." He's blindsided and you can't blame him; unresponsive and unyielding. But Yoongi soon gets with the program, his arms looping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.

His face is wet when you take it in your hands - just like yours - but those tears are long forgotten as the two of you quickly become lost in one another. It feels so exhilarating to have Yoongi kiss you back so enthusiastically; makes you believe that maybe he's been thinking about this just as much as you. To hear him sigh your name has you melting against him, your whole body aflame with molten fire, and when you gently bite his lip it delights you even more to hear the way his breath hitches.

"You really weren't kidding, were you?" Yoongi asks as he attempts to catch his breath, your attention now focused on trailing kisses along the angle of his jaw.

"About what?" you murmur in reply, grinning against his skin as his hands grab at your clothes when you softly nip at his earlobe.

"About not minding about the kiss."

"Oh no, not at all," you admit, tone playful, and you're just about to begin tracing kisses down his neck when one of Yoongi's hands finds your chin and tilts your head up, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips are curved in a gentle smile as he brushes them against yours, chuckling when you attempt to chase after them as he pulls away.

"Good to know." His eyes follow the movement of his thumb as he drags it across your bottom lip, moistening his own with a flick of his tongue. His touch lingers at the corner of your mouth for just a second longer, and in that moment you can feel your heart racing at the thought of what he might do next. "As much as I'd like to explore this further-"

Beside you, you hear the sound of Remi's puppies softly squeaking, and when you look down to where Remi's lay, you see that Holly has used your momentary distraction as an opportunity to start sneaking over, sniffing at the air. You look back to Yoongi and are met with a regretful smile as he takes his hands off of you in favour of straightening the glasses that had been knocked askew by your passion.

"Right," you sigh, looking around at all of the surrounding mess, "We're grandparents now, huh? Have to be responsible. Mature." ie. not go carrying on like a pair of horny teenagers while there are still pieces of placenta strewn about the place.

Yoongi looks up at you from where he's already knelt down gathering up some of the dirty towels. He smirks in a way you've never seen from him before - a way that makes your insides clench with excitement.

"For now, sure.”

You're infinitely grateful that Yoongi doesn't put you in charge of any of the messy stuff when it comes to clearing up. All he tasks you with is watching over the puppies and keeping a very curious Holly at bay from his new offspring whilst Remi recovers and he deals with the carnage that's been left behind. It's not a difficult job by any means. Holly is more than happy to be waylaid by tickles under the chin and tummy rubs, and you're thankful for that given how preoccupied you are with the images of what’s just happened as they replay over and over in your head.

You still can't believe that you kissed him. That you kissed Yoongi and he kissed you back - kissed you back and, unless you're horribly mistaken, wanted more . And what did he mean 'for now'? Does he want to pick up where you left off tonight? Tomorrow? Maybe he's just saying that to give himself an out in the future? Just in case he changes his mind…

No, no, he wouldn't do that. No one could kiss like that if they weren't really into it, and god , what a kiss. It may have been a while, but you can't even remember the last time locking lips had you feeling so hot and heavy. Have you ever had a kiss quite like that before? You’re sure you’d remember it if you had.

“How’re they doing?” You automatically smile at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, hoping that the flush of your cheeks won’t give away the explicit nature of the daydreaming he’s just interrupted. Stood in the doorway, you notice he’s no longer wearing his glasses, though the evidence of them remains in the pink indentations on either side of his nose. Now that his glasses are gone the dark circles under his eyes are more evident, and you feel your brow creasing with worry as he enters the room and bends down next to you, stifling a yawn as he gives Holly a little love behind the ears.

Whilst not being the most physically strenuous of evenings, tonight has been emotionally demanding for you both, and it’s only now as you realise that that you come to appreciate how utterly drained you feel. You can only assume Yoongi feels similarly, given by the slightly glazed look in his eyes as he checks in on the puppies, one by one.

“They’re doing pretty good, I think.” Or at least, you think they are. One by one the puppies had stopped nursing and fallen asleep next to one another, each with a full round belly. That can only be a good thing, right? “Remi’s pooped.” She hasn’t moved since giving birth, as fast asleep as the puppies laid at her side.

“She’s earned her rest,” Yoongi admires fondly, giving her a very brief pad on the head so as not to wake her. You ‘mm’ your agreement, swallowing back the emotion that rises once more in your chest. You’re so proud it almost makes you ache. “I was thinking,” he continues, turning his attention to you, “Seems a shame to move her. You want to sleep here tonight so you can still keep an eye?”

You feel your lips part at his question, your mind automatically falling straight into the gutter. So he does mean to continue things tonight, then…

Seeing your expression, Yoongi grins wolfishly as he stands, letting out a chuckle.

“The couch pulls out into a futon, so you can take the bed, if you do want to stay.

Oh. So, maybe not then…

You desperately try not to let the disappointment show in your face but you figure it must at least a little seeing as Yoongi begins to laugh again, eyes full of mirth. He extends his hand to you to help you stand and you marvel once more at how long his fingers are as they thread between yours; how delicate yet so strong. The last thing you expect is to be pulled into his arms again so soon and so suddenly, near losing your balance as Yoongi draws you near.

“You’re cute when you pout,” he teases, taking your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle pinch. The smirk he’s wearing is as infuriating as it is sexy and you’re powerless to resist as Yoongi leans in to brush his lips ever so sweetly against yours, ever so fleeting.

He’s enjoying this too much, damn it. You should’ve never given yourself away! Can he feel how hard your heart is beating, you wonder? Can he feel how much you want him from how needily you grab at his belt loops?

“Let’s not rush anything,” he mumbles as you insist on kissing him once more, leaning forward onto your tippy-toes. Sighing, you eventually pull away, eyes opening to see Yoongi looking down at you with thinly veiled amusement. His smile is fond rather than teasing, though, so you let it slide. He’s right, anyway, you suppose. The two of you have only just revealed your mutual affection for one another; no need to go jumping into bed straight away.

Ugh, being mature sucks.

Reluctantly, you part ways for the time being and head back to your own apartment to ready yourself for bed. You fill the small wash bag you usually take on vacation with all the toiletries you might need before embarking on the arduous task of deciding what to change into. Do you go for ultimate comfort and opt for a baggy t-shirt and sweats, or do you dress to impress and slip on a silky camisole?

It takes you a shameful amount of time to decide but in the end you settle on a compromise; one of your cuter, cotton t-shirts and a pair of shorts of a slightly more modest length. After all, Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that getting laid isn’t on the cards tonight. No point in making too much of an effort - he might start to think you’re not coming back if you take the time to go shave your legs. You cast them a cursory glance as you slip on your sliders ready to go back next door; they’re not obviously fuzzy from a distance, at least.

When you get back to Yoongi’s apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen. You figure he must be in the spare bedroom changing (and boy are you envious he has one of those) because he’s not in his own, and wherever he is he must’ve taken Holly with him as Remi and her puppies continue to sleep just as soundly as when you left. He’s clearly been busy, though; there are fresh sheets on the bed, the corner of the duvet pulled back as though inviting you in. Considerate as always.

You figure you may as well carry on getting ready for bed in Yoongi’s absence, and with a yawn and a rub of your eyes, you dig out your toothbrush and head toward the bathroom, sliders slapping against the floor.

“Oh!” You almost drop your brush when you push open the bathroom door and find Yoongi inside, Holly sitting obediently at his feet. You thank God he’s merely brushing his teeth and not in the shower - or worse, on the toilet - though you still stutter apologies and start to leave until Yoongi waves a hand to beckon you in, unbothered. He smiles at you in the mirror, lips lined with foam, and you shyly smile in return as he hands you the very same toothpaste.

Together, the two of you stand and brush your teeth; the room silent other than the rustling of bristles against enamel. Your eyes keep meeting in the mirror and oh, how you wish you were able to ignore the way your face begins to blush and how Yoongi’s smile just grows and grows the more embarrassed you get. It’s just so domestic, the two of you, stood side by side like this. Like you’re husband and wife just going about your normal nightly routine; you’ll spit and rinse and then dab your mouths with matching ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

“Thanks for getting the bed all sorted,” you say once you’re all done and Yoongi follows you out into the hallway with a nod and a ‘no problem’.

“Just come wake me up if you need anything, alright?” This time it’s your turn to nod, and you’re about to head back to Yoongi’s room when he suddenly reaches out and brushes his thumb against your cheek, smiling softly. It grows when you lean into his touch, sighing, and you see his chest rise and fall with a heavy inhale before he reluctantly pulls away. His hand falls back to his side and you have to resist the urge to reach out and take it in your own.

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you bid him, his name heavy on your tongue.

“Goodnight,” he replies, and just the timbre of Yoongi’s voice alone is enough to make your stomach flip with excitement. It makes it hard to drag yourself away, and even harder to force yourself to relax once you finally slip between Yoongi’s sheets, knowing that he’s just down the hall. It doesn’t help that they smell just like him, too, despite being clean, and maybe it makes you a bit of a creeper but you won’t deny that you take great pleasure in snuggling your face into Yoongi’s pillow, wishing you lying on his chest instead.

You don’t know exactly how long it takes you to fall asleep, nor how long you’re asleep before the sound of Yoongi’s voice awakens you. Bleary-eyed, you look towards the door and see a slip of light shining beneath from the light in the hallway, disturbed by the movement of shadow.

“Sorry, Hol. you can’t go in there.” you hear Yoongi whispering on the other side of the door. “The ladies need their rest.” Listening to them, you can’t help but internally ‘aww’. Apparently, Holly must miss Remi as much as she does when they’re parted, and oh how you wish she could actually understand a word you say so you could prod her awake and tell her so. “You don’t think I wish I was in there as well?”

Wide-eyed, you stare out into the darkness on hearing what Yoongi had said, hands clasped atop your chest. Is that true? Does he really want to be in here with you, sharing this bed? You can’t imagine any reason for it to be a lie; you know all your whispered confessions to Remi are always true enough.

What should you do? Would he be embarrassed if he knew you’d heard? Should you -

“C’mon, let’s go,” you hear him say, the shadows beneath the door disappearing, and it’s that sudden loss that forces you into the split decision you make that has you leaping up out of bed and flinging open Yoongi’s door before he can get too far away.

“You can sleep in here, if you want,” you declare, ever so slightly out of breath. You wish you’d spared a thought as to whether your hair might be a mess but fuck it, Yoongi’s already turned around and seen you now. “If it’s easier.” A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks you up and down but there’s no such uncertainty from Holly; he happily runs right by you the moment there’s an opening, tail wagging up a storm.

“You sure?” he checks, taking a step forward and oh jesus, of course you’re sure when he’s stood there looking - sounding - like he does; voice rough with sleep, hair tousled and half-dressed. You can only be grateful that he doesn’t sleep topless or else you might just combust on the spot, so deliciously tight are the boxers he’s wearing.

“He’s just gonna keep you up all night otherwise.” You try to sound casual, you really do, but the nervous little giggle that escapes you as Yoongi enters your personal space gives you away. He grins as he passes you in the doorway to head towards the bed, and just before you shut the door to plunge you both back into darkness you see him reach out and pull back the covers from the right-hand side of the bed.

“You sleep on the left,” he says as he climbs in, sheets rustling, “Good.” He must sleep on the right then, you’re guessing, and it makes you more happy than it should do to learn this, smiling to yourself in the dark. You can hear the puppies snuffling around as you tentatively make your way over to the bed, but you're sure Remi will alert you if there's a problem. Right now, you're too busy mustering up the courage to climb back into bed next to a man you've been fantasising about for so long.

“Don't stand there getting cold.” After such a long night, Yoongi’s probably too eager for sleep to have much patience for you dithering around at the bedside. Now that your eyes have started to adjust to the lack of light, you can just about make out his face turned towards you, watching as you finally climb into bed, and it does nothing to lessen the nervous fluttering of your heart.

You’re so tense; uncertain of how to lie or how close you ought to get. You end up lying flat on your back for lack of a better idea, trying not to fidget as you stare up at the ceiling, and even though you’re not touching, you’re acutely aware of Yoongi’s body just a few inches away. His breaths are slow and steady - nothing like your subtle, shallow inhales - and you lie there wishing that you had any hope of remaining as cool and calm as he always seems to be.

Eventually, though, your panic begins to wane, enough that you trust yourself to speak without giving yourself away.

“Night Yoongi,” you whisper, not sure if he’s even still awake. You hear a soft sigh and the rustling of sheets from what you presume must be him turning over to make himself more comfortable. Soothed by his lack of reply, you, too, roll over in hopes of finally falling back to sleep, but when you’re met by the sight of Yoongi’s dark eyes looking back at you, you’re nothing but wide awake.

“Hi,” he murmurs quietly, and even in the dark you can make out the subtle curve of his mouth as he smiles. Your heart thuds in your chest, your throat suddenly dry, and even though you open your mouth to reply no sound has the chance to come out because faster than you can realise what’s happening, Yoongi’s closed the space between you and stolen your voice with a kiss.

This isn’t a kiss like the last one you shared. He was holding back last time - careful, gentle kisses that never lingered, never deepened - but this time is different. This time, Yoongi kisses like he means to consume you, with a hunger so fierce that it sparks a yearning just as voracious within you. It burns through you as Yoongi leans over your body, the weight of his own forcing you to roll onto your back as his fingers weave their way into your hair.

Willingly, you submit to him in each way in which he asks, one by one; when he coaxes his way into your mouth with the press of his tongue, when you hook your leg over his hip when the hand that was in your hair slides down onto your ass, pulling your pelvis towards him.

“Wha-” You gasp as he rocks his hips against you, only breaking your kiss out of the necessity to breathe, and the moment you do Yoongi simply finds another target for his lips, trailing them along the length of your jaw. “What happened to- to not rushing anything?”

“Fuck what I said,” he mumbles in reply, voice laden with desire. Yoongi doesn’t curse very often but there’s something so hot about him doing it now between teasing your throat with his teeth and rubbing himself up against you. “I’ve wanted you for months.”

Well, that makes two of you then. And he’s not lying, either; you can feel him growing steadily harder against your leg each time your bodies move, seeking out one another’s body heat.

“Can I take these off?” You feel his fingers lingering at the waistband of your shorts and eagerly you nod, pulling down one side as he handles the other till you’re able to kick them off somewhere beneath the covers.

“Please.” Rolling onto your back, you take Yoongi with you, seeking out his lips with your own. While his hand reaches between your legs, you’re busy tugging at his t-shirt, baring his torso just in time for your fingernails to dig into his shoulders at the first touch of his fingers, gasping as he brushes the tips featherlight against you.

“Baby,” he groans, and you preen at his use of the pet name, “You’re so wet.” And you can feel that it’s true - can feel how sinfully his digits are able to slip and slide about your cunt, teasing their way between your lips.

“Please Yoongi,” you plead, reaching between your bodies to grasp his wrist and tugging, tilting your pelvis up. You’ve been dreaming about having his fingers inside you for so long that you’ve no shame in showing him just how much you want it. You bite your bottom lip as he gazes down at you; watching, waiting to see your reaction as he presses one finger inside.

“Haa!” you cry out, head tipping back into the pillow, and your eyes are too tightly pressed shut to see the way Yoongi smiles in satisfaction. Craving more from you, one finger quickly becomes two, and you can’t help but grab at his shoulders for purchase as he so deftly stretches you open. Each motion - each thrust and curl of Yoongi’s fingers - makes the most obscene of noises, so gratuitous is your want for him.

Suddenly, Yoongi ceases your kissing, an urgent look in his eyes.

“Can I get a taste?” His request has your pelvic muscles clenching around his fingers with excitement - a response you presume Yoongi rightly perceives as your consent, given the cocky smile that appears on his face.

“Only if you’re as good as your tongue as you are with those fingers,” you tease, breathless. You’re pleased by the way he chuckles - even more so by his reply.

“Even better,” he promises, and though you mourn the loss of his fingers as they withdraw, you’re filled with too much anticipation to really care. His eyes fixed on yours, Yoongi kisses his way down your body, making sure to spare time for each of your breasts along the way. Through the material of your t-shirt he suckles and licks till the material has turned see-through, and only then does he hitch it up under your chin to reveal your chest and repeat the whole process again. He lingers long enough to leave no doubt that he’s as talented with his tongue as he’s said, your nipples tingling long after he’s done drawing them out, stiffened into tight little peaks.

Your hips are squirming by the time Yoong’s head is between your legs. He holds them steady with firm hands as he kisses at your inner thighs, twice suckling hard enough for you to know he’ll have left a mark - evidence of his desire. Your want to see him clearly is at odds with how comforting you find the dark, less self-conscious in knowing that even as Yoongi’s parts your lips with his thumb and forefinger, you’re not quite so brazenly exposed.

“Tell me what you like,” Yoongi instructs as he makes himself comfortable on his stomach. You mumble your agreement, heart hammering with a mixture of nerves and excitement because, in all honesty, this has never really been your favourite thing before. You don’t want him to be disappointed if this doesn’t get you there, hoping he’ll realise that it’s more about the journey than the destination.

He starts slow; long, luxurious laps up and down, ascending from your perineum and back again to gather your essence on his tongue. He moans as he does it, and just hearing how much he seems to be enjoying the taste of you makes it feel all the better as he does it once more.

“I like that,” you sigh, hips shifting to get more comfortable as you close your eyes and focus on the sensation of his tongue. His hands are on your thighs as your own make their way down into his hair, and it’s just as soft as you imagine it to be - Yoongi near purring with pleasure into your heat every time you dig your fingers in whenever something feels particularly good.

“Mm, o-ooh, I like that too.” Your moans become more frequent as Yoongi focuses his attention on your clitoris, the tip of his tongue gradually gaining in speed now that Yoongi’s found his purpose. For someone who has such a small mouth and such a dainty, kittenish tongue, you had no idea he could be so skilled with it - so deft as it wriggles beneath your clitoral hood in delicious figures of eight. “Fuck, that feels good…”

With each second longer that he continues, you can feel a heat gradually rising within you. It starts right there between your legs, burning in your core, but soon you can feel the flush all the way up to your chest and your back is beginning to sweat, your mouth open so each breath is a pant - a gasping moan.

In search of relief you tug off your t-shirt, but it does little to cool you down. Not when Yoongi seems determined to have you falling apart on the end of his tongue, not giving you a moment's reprieve even when your hips grow restless, toes curling into the blankets.

“Oh, oh, Yoongi,” you pant, one hand fisted in his hair whilst your other is grabbing at your own. Your fingers wind in so tight that Yoongi responds in kind by sucking your on your clit so hard it makes you cry out, but the throb of pain it leaves behind on serves to push you even closer to the edge, begging for your release.

“Please, please, please,” you babble, and your prayers are answered when Yoongi fills you with his fingers whilst simultaneously torturing you with his tongue. With artful precision, his fingers crook and curl inside you to stimulate your g-spot, and though he’s gentle to start with, Yoongi is an expert at interpreting the sounds you make to know exactly how rough or fast you want it - not stopping till arousal is gushing from you with every stroke.

“Mm, Yoongi, I’m gonna- oh, oh shit!” Yoongi doesn’t stop as your orgasm takes a hold of you, working you through it and savouring every drop of ecstasy he manages to coax out. It’s only when your body begins to twitch from overstimulation that he finally begins to slow his ministrations, eventually emerging from between your legs when you weakly call his name, tapping on his shoulder.

“Can I turn on the light?” he asks whilst you’re still basking in your post-orgasmic haze, too blissed out to do anything but nod your consent and watch as he reaches over you to turn on the lamp that rests on the bedside table over on your side of the bed. “Wanna see you.”

You have to throw your arm across your eyes when he first switches the light on. When you eventually start to pull it back, Yoongi is still leaning over you, an adoring look in his eyes as he gazes down.

“Would you look at that,” he says wistfully, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue as it rolls into your mouth but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he stops kissing you just to softly whisper ‘you’re gorgeous’ right against your lips.

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t gotten yours yet,” you tease, trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest. Yoongi chuckles, his laughter interrupted by a groan when you cup his balls through his boxer shorts and press your palm against his length.

“Am not,” he insists, even as his hips rock forward into your hard and he nips at your bottom lip, groaning again as you squeeze.

“Still, I think it’s about time for your turn, don't you?” Whispered into his ear, your purr causes a shiver to run through Yoongi’s body before he abruptly pulls away and sits back on his heels. Seeming to take a moment to collect himself, he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but take advantage of this opportunity to take a good long look at your lover - to admire his slight waist and unblemished skin. His face is flushed with desire and his eyes dark as they similarly trace your form, and you feel the very same blush fill your cheeks when your gaze is inevitably drawn to the ill-concealed erection within his boxers.

Even hidden away beneath black material, its outline is unmistakable - as is the wet patch of material at its tip. Yoongi catches you looking and you bite your lip at the smirk that curls his as he reaches inside his boxers and pulls his cock free, tugging them down just enough for you to make out the dark curls of pubic hair at its base.

“There are condoms in the drawer,” he tells you with a pointed look at the bedside table, but frankly you’re too entranced with the sight of his vascular hand as it strokes the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen up and down to want to look away.

You extend your arms towards him with a coy smile, opening them up in welcome, and Yoongi cocks a curious eyebrow as he shuffles out of his boxers before settling down on top of you, his cock laying heavy on your stomach.

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.” You hear Yoongi’s breath hitch with excitement as you place lingering kisses against his jaw, his cheek, his lips.

“You sure?” he checks, and you can’t help but giggle because even as he’s double-checking Yoongi is already lifting his hips and reaching down to take his cock in hand, guiding it towards your cunt. “We don’t need any more little accidents around here.” Your insides flutter in anticipation as you feel him run the tip of it between your folds till it’s slick with your arousal, one nod away from slipping inside with blissful ease.

“I’m sure,” you grin before kissing him again, and this time they don’t stop. Yoongi swallows up the moan you make as he slides his cock inside you in one smooth motion, right to the hilt. He smothers the gasp that comes thereafter when he pulls back and does it again, this time harder than the last. With his tongue between your teeth, the two of you soon find a rhythm that has you both perspiring with effort - the sounds of your heavy breathing mingling with the slap of flesh on flesh and the slick sounds of your cunt.

“Oh god, Yoongi!” you cry out when he alters the angle of his hips, pressing in harder, faster than before.

“I know baby.” He finds your hand where it lays upon the pillow and threads his fingers between yours, clasping it tight as he groans, forehead pressed to yours, and grits out, “I know, I know.”

You pick your feet up off the bed and wrap them tightly around his waist, urging him deeper, and Yoongi doesn’t disappoint. With renewed vigour, his hips surge forward, so deep that from this angle the tip of his cock not only kisses your cervix but grazes your g-spot on the way out as well, and even without any clitoral stimulation you can feel yourself getting close all over again.

“Say my name,” Yoongi urges between kisses, squeezing your hand in his, “Let me hear you say it.” You do as he asks - one time, two times, three times - and every time you do you swear your orgasm looms just that little bit closer.

“Again, baby,” he chokes out, and you can tell he’s getting close too from the tension in his voice and how his cock has begun to twitch, his thrusts frantic now. “Say it again for me.” Yoongi throws his head back, lifting his chest from yours to drive his cock into you even deeper. “Fuck, I love the way you say it.”

There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes as his name tumbles from your lips, so close that it near steals the breath from your lungs. Every one of your senses is filled with him - with the excruciating bliss that’s sizzling through your veins - and you can’t get enough. Gripping tighter, pulling closer. Kissing, touching, feeling. It’s so much. So much, and yet somehow you want more.

“Please,” you choke out against the press of his lips, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for with both your hands held in his, gripping them tight atop the pillow. You never want this to stop - never want it to end - and yet you’re both rapidly reaching the climax, tumbling into oblivion together.

You try to hold back, you really do, but when Yoongi groans your name, pressing in deep, you’ve not a shred of willpower left. You want to give in.

“I’m close,” he tells you, the words gritted out through his teeth, “Feel so good around me, baby.” He nips at your jawline - nuzzles so sweetly into the crook of your neck and smatters it with kisses. “Gonna cum with me? So pretty when you cum.”

“Yes,” you gasp, and you’re so close, so very, very close. “Cum in me, Yoongi, please - please .”

With the sounds of your pleading, Yoongi, too, loses all semblance of self-control. Driving his hips forward into you, he groans at the gradual tightening of your insides, and as his cock hardens even further, twitching in anticipation, you finally reach your end. It’s so intense you aren’t even able to speak through your climax - unable to vocalise how incredible it feels except for the raggedly drawn breaths you take once it finally begins to fade.

You’re disappointed to realise that Yoongi has already cum by the time you’ve returned to your senses, though from how hard he’s breathing you figure he must not have been too far behind. His face is flushed with heat, chest perspiring, and you can feel the warmth he’s filled you with trickling out from where his pelvis sits flush with yours.

He’s still holding your hands, you realise, and when Yoongi leans down to sweetly kiss you as he squeezes them in his own, you feel yourself blush even more fiercely than before, filled with girlish glee. Ridiculous, really, given all that you’ve just done.

“That was amazing,” you whisper against his lips, and his smile is just as coy as yours as he pulls away to look down into your eyes. He doesn’t say anything but his tender expression tells you all you need to know, as does the way he can’t help but kiss you over and over again before he finally withdraws.

“One second,” he tells you as he swings his legs out of bed and you roll onto your side to watch him go, laughing as he’s forced to shoo Holly out of the way from where’s sat waiting for attention, chin resting on the edge of the mattress.

“I hope he hasn’t been sitting there the whole time!” You watch fondly as Yoongi shimmies his boxers back on with a hop and a wiggle. Gosh, he really does have the cutest little butt… “We’ll have scarred him for life.”

“His own fault,” Yoongi dismisses, unconcerned. “I’ll just go grab some tissue.” He leaves the room for a moment or two, and in that time you have to try very hard to resist the urge to shimmy a little dance atop his mattress - the threat of accidentally making a mess on his newly changed bedsheets looming in your mind. At the foot of the bed, you can hear the puppies snuffling around, probably looking for their next feed, and you have to stop yourself from crawling to the other end of the bed to go look at them, too.

As it happens, Yoongi checks on them when he gets back in your stead. He passes you the tissues and then pre-occupies himself with Remi and the puppies whilst you clean yourself up, waiting until you climb back under the covers to finally rejoin you. He sighs in contentment as he gets comfortable, gazing up at the ceiling with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and all you can do is stare at him in wonderment as you lay on your side, hardly daring to believe that the last half an hour or so was even real.

“I really like you,” you whisper after a minute or two has passed, still unable to wipe the goofy love-sick grin you’re wearing off of your face. Yoongi turns his head to the side to look at you, a cocky gleam in his eyes as he takes in your expression.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow lifting. Effortlessly cool, he extends his left arm out across the pillow to invite you to curl against his side. You do so immediately, kissing the spot on which you then lay your head, snuggling close. You feel his lips press against the top of your head in turn, and through his chest you hear his heart begin to gallop as he squeezes you tightly in his arms, curling them around you. “I think I really kind of like you too.”

****

You never intended to keep them all.

One, maybe. You and Yoongi had talked about it; how it’d be a shame to sell them all and not get to see how the pups would eventually turn out. But the more time that went on - the longer the two of you spent with them and got to know and love all their little personalities - the more you couldn’t bear the idea of parting with even a single one.

And maybe you would’ve come around to the idea of them leaving if Yoongi hadn’t been just as smitten with them as you were. You were bad influences on each other, sending each other picture updates whenever either of you were out of the apartment ( your apartment, with both your names on the lease now, not just Yoongi’s). As if you could’ve really brought yourself to use any of those adorable photos to place an ad that would eventually take them away from you. You should’ve known from the moment they first opened up those beady little eyes and gazed into yours that you were done for.

Though five dogs is undeniably a handful, you can’t bring yourself to regret the decision. Not even now, as you hold a double lead in one hand and Yoongi holds a triple in the other, somehow still managing to keep yours conjoined as your pack pulls you along. God help you should the whole lot of them ever spot a squirrel and decide to run, or make a mad dash for a half-eaten pack of crisps strewn across the ground.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yoongi warns, keeping a good grip on the puppies as they surge towards the greying spaniel that comes trotting along off-lead, his elderly owner just a little way down the path. “Nicely, nicely.”

You hope one day your dogs might be well enough behaved - or at least old and lazy enough - to walk so nicely off lead. The spaniel is adorably patient despite being mobbed by three white, fluffy clouds; their noses searching out every available orifice to sniff. You’re grateful that at least Remi and Holly have the manners to stay out of it, easily distracted by the sound of the treat packet you’re rustling inside your coat pocket.

“Oh, what a lovely little family you’ve got there!” the elderly woman coos as she comes closer, and you thank the lord Yoongi has the good sense to hold the puppies back. Even though they’re almost a year old they haven’t quite yet learned their strength, and you’ve no doubt they’d end up knocking her over if their overenthusiasm isn’t adequately reigned in. “You’re so blessed!”

Beside you Yoongi nods, his chin lifting in pride as the dogs wait to be petted one by one, tails wagging furiously along the ground. He’s too busy watching them to notice the instinctive way your hand reaches for your stomach at the kind old lady’s words, fingers splaying wide over your lower abdomen where a little life inside you grows.

You haven’t told him yet, but oh, you can’t help but start to grin as you imagine how shocked he’s going to be - how happy and excited. If you closed your eyes now, you’re sure you’d be able to imagine the exact smile he’ll wear, all teeth and gums and sparkling eyes.

Yoongi squeezes your hand in his, bringing you back to the present, and you give your tummy one last gentle rub as you return the woman’s smile, heart so full it feels fit to burst.

“Yeah," you smile, catching Yoongi's gaze and beaming all the more, "We really are.”

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Your feedback is always appreciated, dear readers! Please let me know what you think ^^

Also, I’m sure we all already know what Holly looks like, but just in case you were wondering about Remi’s breed, she is a Japanese Spitz who would like an awful lot like this -

And their puppies would end up look a little something like this -

Freakin’ adorable, right?

Also, those of you who’ve followed my blog for a while might’ve now realised that I modelled Remi after my own little Japanese Spitz, Shiro. Is that awfuly self indulgent of me? Oh yes. Do I care? Not even a little bit *grin*

#bts #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga fluff #suga smut #min yoongi #suga #bts fluff #bts smut #domestic yoongi #soft yoongi #ultimate boyfriend yoongi #let's face it

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