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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

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wish lantern rewrite

I can’t be the only one that wishes we had actually traveled to a new location… that we had learned about a new culture and holiday… that Riddle had actually had more character development in Wish Lantern instead of being cooped up in the library, being forced to play pretend princess in order to get out, and give like maybe a handful of lines max in the second half of the event 😭 What we ended up getting was fun too, but I keep thinking about the missed opportunities and how great this story event could have been.

If Twst won’t give it to me then I will have to cook my own food 😤

Here’s how I would write Wish Lantern if I was in the Twst writing room:

Since Riddle is the SSR, I feel the story and its set-up should center him. I’m thinking maybe he’s invited to (or told by his mother to attend) some kind of conference or event in the Kingdom of Heroes or the Sunshine Lands for aspiring medical mages. Let’s say it is being held in the same place where the story of the Princess in the Tower originated because the Sundrop flower mentioned in the tale has miraculous healing properties (and the city/kingdom has since become known for its medical advances).

Riddle is uneasy about going there by himself (the implication being that this event is set after book 1 and, more specifically after book 6, when Riddle expresses to Azul he has been considering pursuing law instead of magic medicine/the career his mother chose for him). Maybe he mentions this unease around Deuce, that he feels obligated to go because “Mother knows best… She has always known what is beat for me, hasn’t she?” It could even be in the library. Say that Riddle is brushing up for the conference and happens to run into him, who is looking for a book to help with completing an assignment. After listening to Riddle’s woes, Deuce, being one of the people who knows about his dorm leader’s complicated feelings toward his mother and finding his own independence, offers to come along as emotional support.

As for how Jack gets involved, he’s Deuce’s club member. Maybe he overhears Riddle talking about sports medicine or panels presented by medical mages who work with athletes, or Deuce mentions it in a club meeting. Jack becomes interested because he’s the type of person that’s always looking for ways to enhance his training and to learn more about this subject.

Kalim can either join because he's conveniently in the library + wants to learn more about poisons and antidotes (on his own self-development journey to be more self-sufficient instead of relying on Jamil all the time) or because the Asims are sponsors of the event and he gets a free invite through his Rich Privilege.

Use the usual "Grim overhears and whines until he and Yuu get invited to go along" excuse or maybe have Yuu and Grim come because they, too, want to be emotional support for Riddle. (They could have heard from Deuce?) With that, we have all of the main characters for this event assembled.

Even though this is a rewrite, I'm going to try and follow the conventions of OTHER "hometown" events. That means most of this rewritten event will be exploring the new area, learning about its customs and traditions, souvenir shopping, and sampling food. This would be a great chance to, of course, throw in Tangled references. Because I proposed that this event be focused on a conference for aspiring medical mages, we can also learn more lore about what medical technology and practices exist in Twisted Wonderland and how magic has played a part in advancing medicine.

So it turns out, there's a festival going on in the area at the same time as the conference. That's because there's a holiday in this kingdom that celebrates the Princess in the Tower finding her way home by following a trail of lanterns. Since the conference doesn't start until the next day, we can go out and enjoy the festivities! (Riddle can be hesitant at first, but the others convince him to loosen up.)

The new outfits + hair can be explained away as part of local traditions. Everyone is provided with a potion that lengthens their hair so they can emulate the Princess in the Tower. Or maybe there can be a potion-making station, and length still correlates with the skill at which you were able to brew it. (In this version, the hair lengthening potion isn't made with super rare ingredients; it is something easily accessible for even non-mages to brew and can be made cheaply.) YES, THAT MEANS WE GET LONG HAIR GRIM.

Local specialties could include dishes mentioned or depicted in Tangled, like hazelnut soup (Rapunzel's favorite).

HERE ARE SOME CUTE INTERACTION IDEAS BASED ON RAPUNZEL'S OWN EXPERIENCES IN CORONA: the gang doing chalk drawings and clowning on each other's artistic abilities (or lack thereof), trying out cupcakes (the reasoning being that they're "single servings" so it's okay for Riddle to indulge), exploring bookshops, painting on the walls, and everyone joining in a big group dance! (For the dance, maybe there’s a competition to see who can drag in the most bystanders into the dance and Riddle gradually finds his footing in that + is crowned the winner?) There could even be a tavern that pays homage to The Snuggly Duckling.

While we're out having fun, there should be a consistent pattern of Riddle having to be convinced that it's okay to be participating in these activities. He feels that he should be focusing on studying for the conference, but the others are there to reassure him it's okay to take breathers.

"You won't perform at your best if you're always at 100%. In terms of a workout, you'd be asking to pull a muscle if you push yourself to exercise without end." (Jack)

"Mmm? But how often are we going to be in [name of city]? We're here now, so we might as well experience everything that's here!! The food, the music, the games, the people... You can't find that anywhere but here." (Kalim)

"I get the importance of preparation, but I'm kind of curious about the celebration that's going on. If Rosehearts-senpai wants to study, then he should do that. I'd feel bad exploring the city without him, though... He might miss out." (Deuce)

"Shouldn't you at least grab some grub first? I'm pretty hungry too! Let's check out the food stalls!" (Grim, maybe Yuu can also get a dialogue option)

At some point, the group decides to browse and buy souvenirs. They discuss who they are shopping for and come upon the subject of family. Kalim and Jack want to buy stuff for their siblings and Deuce thinks his mom might appreciate a locally made handkerchief with the kingdom's sun emblem on it. (As a trucker, Dylla often drives for long hours so she might find use in a handkerchief to wipe her forehead.) Yuu and Grim can also bring up potentially getting something for the Ramshackle Ghosts, who are like their found family.

Riddle becomes visibly uncomfortable when the topic of family is brought up. Everyone else sounds so happy talking about theirs, but he has no idea what a happy family is supposed to be like. Deuce (and maybe Yuu + Grim too) realizes why Riddle is uncomfortable and quickly apologize. Kalim and Jack, who aren't familiar with Riddle's background or his attempts to speak with his mother over winter break, are a little confused but the others feel it's not their place to explain why and Riddle doesn't know them well enough to elaborate on personal matters. (Here, Jack and Kalim serve as an in-universe reason to keep his family history vague so as to not spoil people who haven't gotten that far in the main story yet, but the awkwardness is palpable enough to imply something is wrong to serve the narrative of the event story.)

Now, "hometown" events tend to introduce a new character, typically a family member, to us. However, the new characters are not those who appear as the "trauma source" for the respective OB boy. (For example, Falena was not the character introduced to us in Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on the Savanna and we met Kifaji instead.) Following this trend, we will not be encountering Mrs. Rosehearts but rather MR. Rosehearts.

I realize that we don't have a ton of lore about Riddle's dad yet so everything I write about his personality is completely headcanon (primarily based on the personality of the King of Hearts). The only things that are canon in this depiction is that 1) Mr. Rosehearts is a medical mage like his wife is and 2) Mr. Rosehearts does not have a happy marriage with his wife.

Anyway, we run into Mr. Rosehearts out in the city. Turns out that he is one of the presenters at the conference and he was supposed to meet and receive Riddle. He's a quiet and slightly anxious man but overall is kind to his son (though we should get the impression that Mr. Rosehearts isn't good with confrontation and folds easily).

Maybe have a part where Mr. Rosehearts is surprised that Riddle has friends because uh... the last time he recalls his son having friends, it was because his wife ranted at them for 5 hours and banned them from their home. But hey, he's chill about it and promises Riddle this can stay between them and he won't tell his mom. Could insert a line or two that implies that the winter break talk didn't go over well. (This is just my headcanon, but you could also stick in a line that insinuates that the Rosehearts parents don't just outright divorce because Riddle's mom can't deal with the potential social fallout + realizing that she is "wrong" in her marriage.)

Every "hometown" event thus far has presented us with some kind of minor external conflict to be resolved. In this case, Riddle's conflict is more internal. He's wrestling with what he wants to do with his future and trying to cope with the reality that his mother isn't the loving, "always correct" woman he thought she was. This, of course, mirrors Rapunzel's struggle with Mother Gothel, who tries to keep her in the tower and doing as she commands.

We finally make our way to our quarters for the night (Riddle has his own room; everyone else has to share one), perhaps in tall tower to mimic Rapunzel's home with Gothel. Riddle knows he should retire early because the conference is first thing tomorrow, but he admits to everyone that after spending time in the city, he has become curious about the tradition of releasing thousands of wish lanterns into the night sky. It happens pretty late in the day though, so he brushes it off and says they should sleep.

... But the others get really hype about Riddle "finally getting into the spirit of the holiday" and decide they should see the lanterns!! The only problem is, Riddle is locked in his hotel room for the night. There could be a local superstition, tradition, or security reason for this. Like maybe due to the story of the Princess in the Tower (and Gothel locking her up), people who are indoors at a certain time of night can't leave until the next day?? Or maybe Mrs. Rosehearts had prepared Riddle's room for him in advance and instructed staff to ensure he doesn't leave because she has been paranoid about him "breaking the rules" again after the tart incident. I don't know, pick your reason.

YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS??? It's time for Jack, Deuce, Kalim, Grim, and Yuu to be Riddle's Flynn Rider + animal companions to break Riddle out. Our group represents the freedom and childhood wonders Riddle missed out on, the antithesis to Mrs. Rosehearts'/Mother Gothel's control. I can see Riddle using his long hair to hoist himself down, Jack using his UM to help everyone race to the water in time to catch the lanterns, Deuce being the muscle if they run into any thugs, Kalim using his social skills to quickly befriend the locals and ask for directions to the best vantage point or using his $$$ to rent the group a rowboat, etc.

We can keep the rhythmic/twistune from the original version of this event where Kalim, Deuce, and Jack were able to safely descend using Riddle’s hair but Riddle hesitates before he’s able to get himself to follow. The reason is the same; he worries about breaking the rules and how his mother would disapprove of him leaving the home. Riddle wonders if the Princess in the Tower felt the same, but ultimately his friends convince him it’s fine (by baiting him with the rules). He will be trapped in this tower forever if he doesn’t summon his strength and take the leap. If not now, then when? When will my life begin? “There are people waiting for me outside, so… it must be okay for me to leave. Right… Mother?”

Riddle keeps nagging everyone about how many rules and social norms they're breaking, but eventually he loosens up and even laughs a little at some of the dumb things they do. We can maybe have him thinking, This is just like… and then flashback to his childhood days with Trey and Chenya.

They're out on the waters just in time to see the lanterns being released. Alternatively, the even runners could be having trouble lighting up all the lanterns or something so Riddle has the opportunity to help with that (this way, we’d still get the other rhythmic/twistune featured in the original event). That particular rhythmic/twistune ends on Riddle with five lanterns floating overhead, which I think could be important symbolism (five lanterns -> five mentions of Heartslabyul).

It's beautiful. Everyone oohs and aahs at the sight--most of all, Riddle. He can say something like... "This city is known for its many contributions to magic medicine. I know that, and yet... I don't believe any magic or medicine could replicate what I am feeling in this very moment." There is some part of Riddle that acknowledges the healing and therapeutic properties of just... being allowed to have freedom, of allowing himself to live in the present and not stress about the rules or gearing up for a future someone else has decided for him all the time. He just doesn't know how to fully verbalize it + has not fully come to terms with it yet, so this is how he expresses it. At last, he sees the light.

While the new location they travel to + the conference provide us with the backdrop of medicine and health for this rewrite, I think there’s also something to be implied about the injuries we don’t see, the pain inflicted that isn’t physical. Both Riddle and Rapunzel were trapped in towers but were also emotionally controlled and prevented from leaving/made scared or the world and disobeying their mothers. When Riddle sees the lanterns, it’s sort of a “wake up” sign to his soul, a reminder of how healing it can be to just… live by one’s own terms, to not be ruled over by fear of disappointing someone else or failing to meet expectations. Rapunzel and Riddle bear scars on their heart from having been raised in the households that they were, and it is seeing the lanterns in-person that helps to “heal” what hurts them.

Riddle recalls the story of the Princess in the Tower and how she made a wish to see the lanterns, so now people make wishes upon these lanterns before releasing them into the sky. He lets go of his own lantern and wishes that, someday, he can be like the Princess in the Tower and this lantern floating up to the sky… and follow his own Road to Freedom.

Everyone sneaks back into their rooms and rest for the day. Uhhh, and there can be a scene of slicing off their hair for tomorrow. Riddle can talk about how the Princess grew her hair long because her mother told her to, but that it must have been cumbersome to walk like this. This way, by cutting off the hair like how the Princess does at the end of her story, it's a liberating act.

It doesn't matter what happens at the conference because what was important was the experiences Riddle had with his friends leading up to it. At most, maybe we see Mr. Rosehearts again while heading to the venue and they have a brief exchange where Riddle lets it slip he's a little tired. "That's so unlike you," Mr. Rosehearts remarks. "Well," Riddle replies with a small smile, "I am a growing young man, after all. I am changing every day."

I want to be clear that this does NOT mean Riddle has had a full character arc to come to terms with how he was raised. He would NOT feel 100% okay with rebelling against his mother by the end of this (hypothetical) event. The point of my version of Wish Lantern isn't to empower Riddle to fistfight Mrs. Rosehearts or to tell her off. The point is that it's supposed to be a small step in helping Riddle through the very complicated process of recognizing he was traumatized and/or abused, accepting that reality, and learning about how he can grow from it and his abuser (who is someone he thought he loved and could trust). This can take YEARS to process in the real world, and it would probably be similar to Riddle. Again, this is meant to be a SINGLE STEP he takes, NOT THE ENTIRE JOURNEY.

So in my rewrite, the event would be split up like this:

Episode 1: invitation to the event; gathering all the relevant characters, hopping through the mirror

Episode 2: arrival in the new location and having fun in the area

Episode 3: souvenir shopping, meeting Riddle's dad

Episode 4: retiring to room, changing mind and deciding to break out instead

Episode 5: seeing the lights, ending

As you can see, the structure is very similar to a traditional "hometown" event. I didn't want to stray too far from Twst's usual writing conventions, as it could mess with the cohesion with the rest of its story events. I did, however, try to change things up a little (like having an internal conflict instead of an external one) and tied in this (hypothetical) story with Riddle's overarching character development, as those are elements that I personally prefer in a story. I realize that the biggest change here is tying my rewrite much more strongly to the main story than similar events have 💦 BUT LET ME HAVE THIS, I think I cooked 😭

... What Wish Lantern could have been OTL Don’t get me wrong, though!! The version we did get wasn’t all bad. There was lore about the NRC library, lots of involvement from the staff, and fun character interactions with the whole student cast. I just feel like those could have all been used for a different event and not the Tangled one which could have been so much more interesting for Riddle and his character.

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scoonsalicious · 1 year ago

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Your Choice

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice.

Warnings: Language, because I have a foul mouth, explicit smut (unprotected PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering), mentions of drug manufacturing/possession/use, little bit 'o' bondage, implied dubcon, implied infidelity, implied abuse of police authority (honestly, read the whole thing through before coming at me for warnings, okay? I promise it'll make sense), bad cop jokes/puns/innuendos. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Inspired by actual events! And by that, I just mean the part where someone called the cops and told them I was cooking crack in my kitchen. Literally everything else is a figment of my imagination, alas! Special thanks to bestie @jmeelee for suggesting I take that awkward encounter and turn it into something to benefit all of mankind, and for giving me a title. The Cheesecake Factory is going to start forbidding us entry with the way we talk in there.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

______________________________________________________________

You put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down at the kitchen table to start grading your students’ papers. You’d been hoping to get through as many as possible before your husband came home from work, but with the number of corrections you were having to make on these assignments, you’d be lucky if you got a quarter of them done before then. It was disheartening. Distance learning during Covid really hadn’t done the public education system any favors and you felt like you’d been playing catch-up for years now.

When the kettle eventually boiled, you pulled yourself away from your grading to make yourself a cup of tea. You had just settled back down with your steaming mug when you heard an incessant pounding at the front door, startling you. You briefly considered not answering— you weren’t expecting anyone, and besides, who showed up unannounced at someone’s door anymore?

Serial killers, that’s who.

But the knocking continued, relentless and heavy. After a few seconds, you heard a gruff voice call “Police. Open up!”

“What the hell?” you asked yourself, putting down the tea mug and making your way through the living room to the front door.

Peering behind the curtain on the front door window, you could make out the figure of a uniformed officer standing on your front porch. He was illuminated from behind by the streetlight, leaving only his outline visible to you.

Narrowing your eyes in confusion and concern, you turned on the porch light, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Can I help you, officer?” you asked cautiously.

The man tipped the brim of his hat up, and you were met with a bright pair of blue eyes that glimmered with more than a hint of mischief.

“It’s actually Sergeant, ma’am,” the man said to you as he tipped his hat and offered you a wicked grin. You breathed a sigh of relief-- you knew him. Of course you did. Your small town didn’t have much in the way of local law enforcement, and James Barnes, or ‘Bucky,’ as most folks called him, was a specimen to be revered. Ridiculously handsome, tall and broad, he was built entirely of muscle as he towered over you from the doorway. He was a favorite among the local female population, often being specifically requested to provide police presence at PTO functions and Ladies’ Auxiliary events. Despite the gold ring he wore on his left hand, the women of the town were drawn to him like flies to a corpse, much to the frustration of his poor wife.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” you amended, with a touch of sarcasm in your voice as you offered him a smirk back, though you were still confused by his presence.

“Well, ma’am, seems like we got a call reporting suspicious activity at this address,” he drawled, leaning now on your door jam, fingers hooking in his belt loops.

“Here?” you asked, surprise coloring your tone. “Are you being serious with me right now, Bucky?”

“That’s Sergeant Barnes to you, ma’am,” he responded nonchalantly. Oh, so he was playing it like that, then? Good to know. “Got a tip that someone’s been cooking meth in your kitchen. ‘m here to check it out.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Meth?! That’s a new one!” You’d had some of your students call in pranks on you in the past, but this was an extreme.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid meth is no laughing matter,” the sergeant said in all seriousness. The look in his eyes immediately shut down any trace of humor you felt as you stared back at him. “The manufacture of illegal drugs is a very serious crime. I’d like to come inside and take a look, if you don’t mind.”

You pursed your lips. You remembered something your husband had discussed with you, and decided you weren’t going to make this easy for him. “Do you have a warrant?” you asked defiantly.

Sergeant Barnes sighed heavily and rubbed his dark stubble with the palm of his hand. “Ma’am, I’ve had a long shift. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Now, either you can let me inside, or you can come down and answer questions at the station. It’s up to you.”

It wasn’t an option, not really. “Come on in, then,” you told him, moving aside so he could enter. He walked through the door, his meaty arm grazing against the side of your breast as he did so, and you involuntarily shuddered at the sensation. You knew he noticed when you caught him smirking at you again.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you murmured, somewhat breathlessly, as you led him back through the house to the room in question. He followed silently behind you, his footfalls heavy and sure.

Once in the kitchen, Sergeant Barnes began looking around. It was obvious you weren’t in the middle of a meth lab. You were a high school English teacher, for god’s sake! You weren’t quite sure what game the sergeant was playing at, but you had no doubt he’d make his intentions known in good time.

After glancing around, he eventually said “Well, I can see there’s no meth setup here. Guess it was a false alarm.” You shot him a glare as if to say no shit, but he walked to the cabinet holding your glassware and opened it. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out a bong and a container of marijuana. “Now, I know next state over might have given the go ahead for this stuff, but in this state, recreational use of the Devil’s Lettuce is still illegal, darlin’. Mighty bad look for a school teacher to have it on hand, don’t ya think?”

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “That’s my husband’s,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you just conducted an illegal search and seizure there, sarge.”

He put the bong down on the counter with a heavy clink and turned to face you, his face impassive and voice stern. “Now, seems to me someone’s got a problem with authority, darlin’. I don’t appreciate you talkin’ back to an officer of the law like that. Might need to teach you some manners.”

You swallowed thickly, finally having an idea of where the sergeant was going with his little drop-in and felt a frisson run through your body that left you trembling. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t seen it coming. There’d been talk, after all.

“Now,” he continued as he slowly made his way across the kitchen toward you, “as I see it, we got ourselves two options here. One: you can come down with me to the station and we can book your pretty little ass on possession charges, which is gonna take hours and require a hell of a lotta paperwork.” He was standing directly in front of you now, leaving just inches between your bodies. You sucked in a breath, the nearness of him making you dizzy. “Or two, I can get you off with a warning. Still might take hours, but at least we can both have ourselves a good time. Your choice, darlin.”

You took a step back, pressing yourself against the edge of the counter in an attempt to put some space between you. “I think you mean ‘let’ me off with a warning, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, your words coming out in an exhale.

You gasped as his hand came down to cup you between your legs and gently squeeze your mound through the fabric off your jeans. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I meant what I said, darlin’. But you gotta prove you’re gonna be a good, respectful girl, first, so why don’t you get down on your knees and show me how you obey the law?”

Your eyes widened at his command, unsure how to proceed. Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes was impatient– he took both his hands and put them on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you down until you were kneeling in front of him, the large bulge in his trousers staring you straight in the face.

“Best get to work, darlin,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening as you slowly brought your shaking hands up to his waist. With trembling fingers, you unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His massive erection was straining the fabric of his gray boxer-briefs, leaving a dark wet stain where the tip rested against the cloth, evidence of his arousal already making itself known.

Moving as though afraid of spooking a scared animal, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down to just above his knees and setting his cock free to bounce up against his lower stomach.

God, but he was big. If the women in town had any idea that he was packing so much more than just his gun, they’d never give him a moment of peace. You traced a finger along the vein at the base of his member, trailing it up his length to the weeping red tip. Coating yourself in his pre-cum, you used his essence as lubrication as you began working him with your hand.

“Not that this doesn’t feel good, but what did I say about sucking it, darlin’?” Sergeant Barnes asked through a grunt as you pumped him.

“I’ll get to it,” you told him, a hint of irritation in your voice. He had a lot of nerve making demands of you at a time like this.

You felt his hand come and roughly grab you by the chin, jerking your head up to make you look him in the eye. “You got the right to remain silent, Sweetheart. I’m gonna be a gentleman and suggest you use it. Find another purpose for that pretty mouth of yours.” He took his hand away with a wink.

You licked your lips as your eyes took him in. Leaning your head down into him, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the underside of his cock.

“Good girl,” he moaned as your tongue circled his tip. “Keep it up. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good with that sassy mouth of yours.” You took him into your mouth a little bit at a time, teasing him as one hand worked his base and the other cupped his balls.

You weren't a woman who liked to be told what to do, but the dominance in his voice made you shudder, an involuntary thrill skittering down your spine. He felt intoxicating, dangerous and you had the feeling you were in way over your head.

“Mmm,” he grunted as you swirled your tongue around the swell of his head before deciding to take him in deeper. You relaxed your throat and backed off only when you felt his length bump against it.

"Jesus, darlin', where'd you learn that?" he asked breathlessly. His hands moved to cup your face as you moved rhythmically along his length, setting your own pace. He was blissfully lost in the sensation.

But then, Sergeant Barnes wasn’t one to give up control so easily, either. “Stop teasing,” he huffed out before threading his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly, a clear sign that he wanted more.

You didn’t hesitate to oblige, taking him deep in your mouth until you heard him groan in pleasure above you. His grip on your hair tightened as he took over guiding your movement, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth until he was fucking your face with abandon. The taste of him was overpowering, salty and bitter, making your cheeks flush with heat as you struggled to accommodate his size, tears running down your cheeks and drool pooling from the corners of your mouth.

"I knew you had it in you," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper now as he lost himself in the waves of pleasure you were giving him. You looked up to see his eyes closed tight, his lips parted when ragged breaths escaped his chest that was heaving like a wild beast caught in a trap.

He was close, you could tell from the way his body squirmed and the throbbing of his hardness against your tongue. There was an urgency in his ragged breathing and the racing pulse beneath his skin that echoed through your core. But he wasn’t going to finish yet. Not if Sergeant Barnes had anything to say about it.

A sudden force yanked you back by the hair, tearing your mouth away from him. You let out a surprised yelp, wiping away the excess saliva that clung to your lips.

“Upstairs,” he ordered gruffly, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He tucked himself free of your grasp and rearranged his uniform as he stepped back, giving you space to rise from your knees.

You smiled and nodded, your head hazy with desire as you passed him and led the way to the narrow back staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He followed closely behind, his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floors in a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You felt his gaze on your swaying hips with each step you climbed, a soft growl echoing from behind you that sent shivers down your spine.

You led him to your bedroom, a quaint space painted in soft hues with sheer white curtains rustling gently from the light breeze of the warm spring night. The unmade bed serving as a reminder of love you and your husband had made just that morning staring you right in the face.

“‘m afraid I’m gonna have to search you now, Sweetheart. Strip,” he ordered, his voice gruff with desire as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother with niceties or romance – this wasn’t about that. This was about raw, primal need.

Your trembling hands reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, revealing the delicate lace bralette underneath. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, encouraging you as you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them daintily.

“Turn around,” he said next, and you complied without question. You heard him suck in a breath behind you as you shimmied out of your underwear, revealing the round shape of your backside to him under the dim light.

“Jesus,” he whispered, the raw desire in his voice making your heart flutter. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He walked up to you, the rough fabric of his uniform trousers brushing against your exposed skin making you whimper. His fingers traced your spine, gliding all the way down to the small of your back, causing goosebumps to break out all over your body. “Now, you remember your traffic laws, don’t ya, darlin’? You remember how stoplights work?”

You nodded, knowing instinctively he was referring to safe words– Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Put your hands behind your back.”

You complied and felt the cold metal of his cuffs clink around your wrists, locking them into place. You were now fully at his mercy.

He cupped your buttocks in both hands, kneading them gently while his lips found the nape of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he left a trail of kisses there. “Color?” he asked inbetween presses of his lips.

“Green, Sergeant,” you hummed. You could feel him growing harder against you, the enormous length of him pressing against your ass making you squeal and squirm in anticipation. His groan echoed in your ears as he held onto you tighter.

“Gonna need ya to spread for me, Sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky. Your heart pounded in your chest as you did what he asked, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart gently until you were open and exposed to him.

He let out a low whistle behind you, his fingers tracing lightly over your intimate folds. "You're soaking wet," he murmured, sounding almost awestruck. You flushed at his words, feeling a fresh wave of desire pulse through your body at his touch.

His fingers suddenly abandoned you, only to return dripping with warm slickness. He wasted no time in teasing your entrance, slipping his finger inside you and drawing out a moan that echoed through the room.

“You like that don’t ya?” he asked, his voice alluringly low as he curled his finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation, trying to push back against him for more.

“Patience, Sweetheart," he whispered against your earlobe before nibbling on it lightly. He slid another finger inside you, curling and stretching in a way that had you gasping for breath. "You're so tight," he groaned out, appreciating the way your walls clenched around his digits.

“Please…” you whimpered out, the anticipation making your body shake as you pleaded for more. “Please, Sergeant. I need more.” Your legs were wobbly, and with your arms trapped behind your back, you were finding it hard to keep your balance, but you wanted more of him.

He chuckled darkly at your plea, rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Each touch was expertly measured, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, keeping you precariously balanced between pleasure and desperation.

“I’m doing this my way,” he grunted, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. You cried out, your vision blurred as the coil inside you tightened threateningly. You were so close but he wouldn’t let you fall, each moment bringing a new wave of frustration and desire.

Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, he withdrew his fingers leaving you gasping at the sudden loss.

"Get on the bed," Sergeant Barnes ordered, standing tall in front of you; his arousal painfully obvious. “Face down.” You moved to accommodate him, getting on your knees and laying your face down on the mattress, hands still pinned behind your back.

The sound of his utility belt hitting the floor filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he stripped himself free of his uniform.

You squirmed on the bed, desperate for his touch but unable to see anything with your back to him. The anticipation was unbearable, each passing second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to resume his ministrations.

He moved behind you again, his bare, warm skin against yours making you whimper in anticipation. "Breathe," he commanded simply, and you did, inhaling a shaky breath before exhaling slowly.

And then without warning he was inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust that had you screaming out, the stinging stretch quickly morphing from painful to something far sweeter. He grunted at the intrusion, pulling back slightly only to thrust back in again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving too much as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind.

Each thrust had you crying out in wanton pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered his name like a sacred prayer, the cool metal of the handcuffs biting into your wrists as you tried to brace yourself against his forceful movements.

He didn't slow down, didn't pause, just kept moving inside you with a single-minded focus that had you spiraling. His pace was unrelenting, his stamina seemingly endless. His fingers clutched at your hips in a bruising grip, holding you steady as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.

You felt him shift slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting a spot inside of you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. “Please…” your plea was cut off by a gasp as he hit that same spot again, driving you closer to the edge.

But he didn’t stop there; instead he leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as one hand slid underneath your bodies, finding your clit with unerring precision. He started rubbing it in tight circles, adding a whole new layer to your pleasure.

Every new thrust of his hips sent him deeper within you, each stroke of his fingers on your clit became more intense. You were a writhing mess beneath him, completely lost in the ecstasy he was giving you.

"Bucky," you cried out, forgetting to use his title this time, your voice hoarse from screaming, your body trembling on the brink of release. This wasn’t a game anymore.

"I know," he growled in your ear, his voice low and guttural. "I can feel how close you are, doll. Just let go."

And you did. The moment his lips closed around the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you as his own, the coil inside you snapped. Pleasure washed over you in waves, each one stronger than the last, pulling cries from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you.

He didn't stop his movements, continuing to thrust into you as you came around him, your cries only fueling his own desire. His fingers tightened on your hips while the other hand continued to work you through your climax, prolonging the exquisite sensation.

His pace became erratic, the rhythm breaking down as he chased his own release. With a final grunt and a whispered curse, he drove deep inside of you, his body tense as he came, filling you with his spend. His guttural moan carried through the room as he rode out his orgasm, each thrust sending little aftershocks through your sensitive body.

His grip on your hips relaxed slowly, his breathing heavy and ragged against the skin of your back. He stayed still for a moment, buried deep inside you, allowing you both to come down from your highs.

Finally, he carefully withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you with a sigh, getting up to retrieve the handcuff key from his trouser pocket and releasing you from your bondage.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft in the silence, as he worked to rub the feeling back into your tender wrists.

You looked up at him through your lashes and nodded, amazed and impressed at his sudden shift from commanding sergeant to tender, caring lover.

“So,” Sergeant Barnes began once he had determined there was no real damage to your wrists, “what time is your husband getting home?” You both burst into laughter as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Mmm, probably sooner than we expect,” you teased, leaning up to give him the deep kiss you’d been denied throughout the length of your little game. “That was a lot of fun.”

He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the dresser. “Yeah, it was; we should have done it sooner.” He opened the drawers, pulling out a fresh change of clothes for himself before moving to the closet to grab your robe. “Thank you for that; I really did have a long shift, and that certainly took the edge off. You were amazing, doll.” “My pleasure, obviously.” You’d been excited and intrigued when Bucky first brought up acting out his fantasy with you, but no amount of discussion could have prepared you for how much you had loved actually doing it. You raised your hands over your head, arching your back in a stretch, laughing as you watched his eyes follow the heave of your breasts as they moved upward, licking his lips. “But meth, Bucky? Really? That rumor gets out, you’re gonna get me fired.”

Bucky hummed as he grabbed some clean towels from the linen closet and brought them into the ensuite bathroom. You heard him start the shower. “You answered the door looking all sexy and I panicked,” he confessed, popping his head back into the bedroom, a sheepish grin across his face that made him look ever so boyish. You adored it. “Next time, I’ll say we got a call about you being a prostitute.”

You cackled at that, making him grin even wider. “Better not,” you warned as you got off the bed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “otherwise I might make you pay for it, and I don’t think you can afford me on a sergeant’s salary.”

Bucky grabbed at his heart in mock pain. “Ouch. Well, how about we clean ourselves up and use the money I saved by not paying you to go have a nice fancy dinner, instead? How does that sound? We can talk about doing your fantasy next.”

You took his hand and led him back into the bathroom and the inviting warmth of the shower. “That sounds perfect,” you told him as you moved to stand under the showerhead. You planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze before kissing your forehead. “I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes.”

You began to lather each other up, trying your best, yet failing miserably, to not get too frisky with one another. “Hey, Buck?” you asked after a moment, a question coming to mind that you’d been meaning to ask him.

“Yeah, doll?” He was gently scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, and it felt like heaven.

“How come you gave yourself a Southern accent?”

Bucky laughed and pulled you close, your back to his front, as he planted a kiss just behind your ear, right over the mark he had sucked into your skin. “I told you, doll. You looked so fucking sexy when you opened that door, I just panicked!”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #mcu bucky barnes #marvel mcu #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes drabble #Bucky barnes x y/n

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argisthebulwark · 1 year ago

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Like Real People Do

summary: Whether it's for protection or social necessity you need a husband. He's your first choice, but falling in love was not part of the plan. (marriage of convenience trope) gn reader, no pronouns or yn used feat: Farkas, Vilkas, Brynjolf, Teldryn warnings: very brief mention of blood/injury, brief nightmare scene

"Of course." Farkas agrees without a second thought. The friend who laughs off all your worries - he's never failed you before and he won't now. "Just don't expect a fancy proposal on such short notice." Marrying Farkas isn't too hard. You practically choke on butterflies when he stands before a Priest of Mara and pledges himself to you, words dripping with sentimentality. You'll get to keep the family property and he gains a home away from Jorrvaskr - it's a win for you both. It's terribly easy to fall for him. The little crush you've harbored since childhood becomes harder to ignore. It isn't helped by the sickeningly domestic habits Farkas adopts; a kiss on your cheek when he's leaving for an assignment, late nights spent in front of a crackling fire, his hand on your back when you're both in the kitchen. You bite your tongue but gods, it gets difficult. It's hard to laugh it off when he jokes about finding you a proper husband, heart aching when he bids you goodnight and shuffles off to another bedroom down the hall. No sense in ruining a good thing, you tell yourself, gazing at the broad expanse of his back. Your comfortable life comes crashing down when Vilkas returns alone. He tells you that something wrong, that nothing went to plan, but you cannot hear him over the waves of terror. Days of promises and apologies fall on deaf ears. They can strategize all they want - your heart cannot bear another moment without him. You should have told him. Guilt threatens to choke you - would he be safe if you'd told him how desperately you love him? Would he be a bit less reckless if he'd known? Boots crashing against wooden floors. Doors flung open. Vilkas barks orders and your heart is in your throat. His armor is shredded and old blood is dried across his chest but he's here. Farkas is tripping across Jorrvaskr and hands you know so well clasp your face, a quick kiss enough to leave you faint. "Sorry I worried you." Farkas mumbles against your lips and you cannot hold it back any longer. "I'm in love with you." You blurt the words out, terror chilling your blood. A short burst of laughter is all you hear before he's kissing you again, thick arms dragging you entirely against his body.

Vilkas seems constantly prepared for you to admit that it's all been one long joke. Even when his hands clasp yours in the temple of Mara there's an odd reservation in his expression you've never witnessed, a shyness he'd never exhibited. "It's not like it has to mean anything." You explain, though the twist in your gut says others. "It's these damned inheritance laws! I couldn't let the family farm be sold off -" "Stop talking before I reconsider." Sharing a home with him is odd. Not bad in any sense, it is just strange to see Vilkas so dressed down. You're allowed a view of him you're fairly certain no one else has gotten before - hair tied back and face scrubbed of war paint, armor tucked away and wearing a loose sweater. It's difficult to look at him - your husband - and not fall a bit more in love with him each time. "You're staring." Vilkas frequently interrupts your train of thought. It sets your cheeks aflame and you quickly whirl back to whatever task you'd been ignoring in favor of gazing at him. His presence is quiet but Vilkas continues to surprise you. Over the months your worries are quelled as his belongings are slowly shifted from Jorrvaskr to your home. A coat rack near the door overflows with cloaks and sheaths he's collected and his books are squashed next to yours on every shelf. Days off are spent lounging on your couch or following along through all of your duties, his hand hovering near your arm on rainy days. Teeth the size of your forearm growing closer with each second. You try to run but your legs move too slow, arms pumping as if you're moving through mud. You try to scream but choke on the thick layer of smoke. Talons close around your middle, scales scraping along your bare skin and god it hurts so bad, the beast's hide is burning - Gentle hands shake you back to reality. Orange light spills in you struggle to breathe but he is here, brown eyes flooded with worry. Sweat coats your back when Vilkas wrenches you across the bed, shaky fingers combing messy hair away from your face. "You're alright." Vilkas grumbles, tucking you close to his chest. The horrible memories felt so awfully real but Vilkas' presence forces them into the past, the cool metal of his ring a comfort while he rubs calming circles over your back. "Just a nightmare." He doesn't spend another night in the guest room. You tell yourself that it's for his peace of mind, surely he'll mutter something about losing sleep due to your nightmares any moment. The air is thick with tension when you slip into bed with Vilkas, expecting a lecture and finding nothing but soft hands drawing your head onto his chest.

You should've known better than asking him. Brynjolf's grin makes you consider rescinding the desperate plea and trying to find some other way out of your predicament. There's got to be a better option, right? "'Course I'll be your fake husband. We can head to the temple right now if you're ready." Too easy. You've prepared talking points in anticipation of his arguments - never did you expect him to simply agree. "Nevermind, I'll figure something else out -" "Too late, love." Nimble fingers raise your hand to his lips, a dramatic kiss placed along your knuckles. "Best wear something nice if we're gettin' hitched." There had to be a better option, right? Sure, your parents have been on your ass about your future and you'd rather die than admit to being a leader in the Thieves Guild, but is a husband truly the best distraction you could offer them? And is he the best choice? It's annoying how good he looks in fine clothing. Brynjolf's voice overflows with false adoration when he stands before your family and vows his life to yours, green eyes so intense you don't dare break eye contact. Goosebumps appear over your skin when he cups your hands. He's selling it too well, for a brief moment even you believe he's madly in love. Even more obnoxious is how good he is all of this. Regaling your family with carefully edited tales of your exploits together as adventurers, an affectionate hand on your lower back or a stray kiss on your cheek. You aren't sure why your blood is heating so much but you're desperately regretting your choice in fake husband. "You're too good at this." You mumble, teeth grinding against the urge to lean into his touch. "You asked for this, love." There's something unreadable in his eyes when he stares back at you, the low pitch of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. "You wanted a distraction, right?" Luckily, your family doesn't visit too often. Brynjolf's teasing comments are easy to handle around the Flagon but each time a holiday approaches your gut tightens. Soon, parents and siblings will descent upon your home, leaving you with no choice but to seek your husband once more. "It doesn't have to be this way, y'know." Brynjolf murmurs late one night. Sharing your bed with him feels dangerous - the rest of your family slumbers down the hall and without their overbearing presence you're alone with the annoying man who makes your heart do backflips. "What do you mean?" You mumble, trying and failing to sound bothered. "We could be - I dunno," from across the bed his fingers find yours, sending little sparks of excitement up your arm. "We could be somethin', right?" Against your better judgment, you cannot deny his words - you could be something great.

"Seems like too good of a deal." Teldryn leans back in his chair, arms crossed and drink ignored. You can't see his eyes behind that damned helmet but can feel the way he assesses you, trying to sus out whatever you're hiding from him. "What do you get out of this?" "Hopefully a discount on your fees." For a beat you're terrified he'll reject you. He studies you a moment longer before letting out a sharp bark of laughter and one ungloved hand smacking at yours. "You've got a deal." Over time, your trips to Skyrim become more manageable. Your chest no longer tightens with anxiety when Gjalund leads the ship into Windhelm's docks. Teldryn's arm loops easily around your shoulders and and carries your pack from shop to shop without a single complaint. You still hear the whispers your title always brings but thank the gods, folks are no longer prying into your personal life. No meddling parents join you mid meal to pitch their child as the rightful spouse to the Last Dragonborn nor do Jarls hint at available property in their Holds. With your husband at your side you get a taste of what's evaded you since that awful day at Helgen - a normal life. "Speak plainly - why did you ask this favor of me?" Teldryn's dry voice sends your heart into your throat. "You're the Dragonborn, I'm sure you could have anyone you want." "That's the problem." Your voice wobbles but you owe him honesty. Dark eyes watch you without judgment, the low orange light of sunset illuminating the tattoos curling over his cheeks. "I can hardly breathe anywhere I go. People want my help or offer their sons and daughters up to be the Dragonborn's spouse. Lords and Jarls want the bragging rights of the Dragonborn choosing their town to settle down in. None of them seem to realize I am a person." "Ah, spoiled for choice." Teldryn chuckles, falling onto your bunk. The ship pitches and send him rolling into your side, a flush in your cheeks when he doesn't move away. "You know what would solve all those issues?" "Hm?" Teldryn's chest is pressed to yours and his hand curves around your jaw, thumb tracing along your lips. You cannot help but stare at him, fully anticipating some awful joke. "If you got yourself a husband." He smirks and your fingers twist into his tunic ready to shove him to the floor. "Tel." "A real husband." "You offering?" "Could be." He's so close it hardly takes any work. Just one little shift and your lips brush, noses bumping briefly before his hand guides your mouth against his. You know that you are falling all over again when his little chuckle against your lips sends your heart ramming against your ribs. "Still seem like too good of a deal?" You mumble, elated by his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. "Kiss me again and we'll talk."

#skyrim fanfic #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #farkas #vilkas #brynjolf #teldryn sero

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myassignmentspro22 · 1 year ago

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Get expert assistance with your property law assignments. Our website offers reliable and comprehensive property law assignment help. Contact us today!

#property law assignment help

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secondarysefikura · 2 months ago

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Warlord Sephiroth with his prison/trophy/bride to be Cloud.

YES!

I'll just do some bullet points on my ideas.

Nibelhiem is a pretty small and inconsequential village. It's technically under Sephiroth's control since he controls all the surrounding area, but he has never officially imposed any military presence or laws on the village.

Cloud, who knows how to fight and has a sword, is one of the people who helps with the export of goods. He travels to the surrounding towns (the ones more explicitly controlled by Sephiroth) with the traders and ensures no one tries to rob them/no monsters attack.

One day, the traders are stopped and searched by members of Sephiroth's militia. At first, Cloud challenges them thinking they are robbers but quickly backs down and apologizes when he sees they are, in fact, part of the militia.

Unfortunately, this puts Nibelhiem on the map. Sephiroth receives word that there was a bit of trouble with a group of Nibelhiem traders and decides he will check out the village to see if it needs to have his rule officially instated.

When he arrives, he pretty quickly determines that Nibelhiem would be more trouble than it's worth to take over. Taking over the village would mean he'd have to instate officials, a military presence, become responsible for the water systems, education, etc. The village is easier to handle as an unofficial part of his territory, especially since the village is eager to cooperate rather than be taken over.

But then the traders return and Sephiroth sees Cloud. His sword is a rather impressive sight, which makes Sephiroth curious. Can Cloud wield such a beautiful weapon? He challenges Cloud to a fight, claiming he will leave the village alone if Cloud entertains him.

Sephiroth expects Cloud to horribly fail, but much to his shock Cloud holds his own quite well. He is deeply entertained and must have him.

Sephiroth: Impressive. I have decided that I am keeping you. Cloud: You're...what? Sephiroth: You shall become my bride. Fret not, you village will be protected by me in your stead. Cloud: I-I don't-but-

Sephiroth take Cloud back home and keeps him as a bride. Much to his amusement, Cloud is delightfully stubborn.

But then Cloud tries to escape him one day, and Sephiroth can't allow that. He captures Cloud and forces him to watch as he razes Nibelhiem as punishment. Cloud does not take well to the death of his mother in the fire.

Sephiroth comforts him, saying he will rebuild Nibelhiem to his standards and make it much better than the little rural village it once was.

Then he takes Cloud back home. Except this time Cloud isn't just his bride, but also a trophy of his conquest.

Cloud is not happy with his new restraints. Where as before he was given relative freedom within Sephiroth's home, now he is always guarded and made to wear jewelry marking him as Sephiroth's property.

Not to mention the way Sephiroth starts to micromanage him when he discovers Cloud's childhood chronic illness is acting up from the stress! Sephiroth enforces a strict schedule on Cloud 'to ensure he is healthy' and starts confining him in their shared quarters more.

At least Cloud likes his new guards. After he managed to shake off his old guards a few times, Sephiroth decided he needed to assign new, more capable guards to his darling wife/trophy. His new guards, Zack and helmet guy (he hasn't been able to figure out his name yet) actually talk to him like he's a real human. And they listen to him! Yes they're still helping keep him prisoner, but he thinks he might be able to build some sort of relationship with Zack and...Kent? Kurt? Kyle?

And maybe if he can make Zack and helmet guy see that he's been forced into this relationship, they'll help him escape.

#cloud strife #sephiroth #zack fair #sefikura #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #I like this idea anon #I thin I may have gone on a bit too long

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 5 months ago

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home for the holidaze

summary: Seonghwa promised Yunho he wouldn't sleep with his half-brother, Hongjoong, while he is in town for an extended holiday sabbatical. He quickly realizes how idiotic of a promise it was to make.

warnings: mdni, dom!hongjoong x sub!seonghwa, recreational drug use

word count: 10,706

ao3 link: home for the holidaze

“Just whatever you do, please don't sleep with my brother.” Yunho warned Seonghwa with a serious expression. Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He remembered Hongjoong from growing up in the same neighborhood as the two of them. Though Hongjoong was closer to Seonghwa's age, he had ended up befriending Yunho instead. Hongjoong had been sent to an elite private boarding school across the country and they barely saw him except at holidays. He was shorter than his little brother (they had different moms) and Seonghwa always recalled him as being rather stuffy, uptight, very serious about doing his assigned reading over holiday breaks, where Yunho and Seonghwa were more inclined to sneak off to smoke weed at the playground.

Seonghwa was only half listening, very focused on Animal Crossing, “Yeah, I get it, no offense but I'm really not interested. He is way too uptight for me.”

Yunho sighed, seeming relieved, “Okay,” he turned towards the door, “Okay. Cool. I'm gonna go get him from the airport, then. You still down to meet up later for dinner?”

“Sure, just send me the location and a time.” Seonghwa said a little dismissively.

“Sweet!” Yunho walked through the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Later!”

Seonghwa had virtual trees to shake and rooms to design. It was his day off and he planned to take advantage of it fully by getting stoned and playing Animal Crossing until his eyes were the things crossing instead. Then he would probably re-watch Empire Strikes Back for the hundredth time. He had been a little reclusive lately. His breakup with Yeji was affecting him more than he'd like to admit. He knew Yunho had noticed and had tried to help. He also knew that six months should have been enough time to get over a relationship half that length. But he was really struggling with the part where he was the one rejected. Not to brag or anything, but he had always been the rejector, never the rejectee. It certainly had given him empathy to those he had broken up with in the past. This sucked. And the guilt of that realization - how he now understood how those he had broken up with had felt - also wasn't helping. He wanted to, was finally ready to break out of his funk. At least mentally. But it was like his body wasn't ready to listen yet. He would stare and stare at the dust bunnies on his floor and get so icked out by them that he felt almost angry. But he still couldn't convince his body to get up and vacuum. He was a very tidy person so it made things like that even more frustrating. A layer of dust on the coffee table was holding his attention more than the credits rolling on his movie, his phone lighting up with a notification was the only thing that shook him out of his stupor.

Yucifer

Joongie picked that ramen restaurant we used to like downtown. See you there in 30?

Alrighty

Sweatpants had felt like a completely reasonable option for one of their favorite old haunts. That was, until he saw Hongjoong. Looking very put together for someone who just spent nearly ten hours on a plane. Dressed in slacks, an expensive looking sweater, and designer loafers. Intellectual property law was a lucrative career, evidently. What was more surprising was that he looked so stylish. Growing up, he had stuck to polo shirts and khakis with ugly dress shoes that looked like they belonged to someone forty years his senior who shopped exclusively at Walmart. Practical. Already a tiny adult by his early teenage years.

Seonghwa felt weirdly exposed in comparison, though he was just as clothed as his companions. He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the table, trying in vain to become a little more put together before he was spotted.

Too late.

“Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong called, trying to catch his eye.

Seonghwa met his gaze sheepishly, feeling embarrassed to be under the spotlight, “Kim Hongjoong. Good to see you, man.”

Yunho scooted over in the booth so that Seonghwa could sit across from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong’s whole demeanor was different from Seonghwa's memory. Where he had once been full of nervous, high-strung energy, he was now calm, almost intense. Cool and confident.

It was… something.

If Hongjoong noticed that Seonghwa was currently clawing his way out of a deep depressive cycle, he didn't let on. Seonghwa felt like he was being studied, but not in a bad way. Just maybe in a way that made him nervous that he would break his promise to Yunho.

Hongjoong was the first thing that had truly piqued his interest in half a year. And he had agreed not to sleep with him. Because he was a fool, probably.

“When do you go back to Sydney?” The question rushed out of Seonghwa’s mouth before he could stop it, realizing it probably sounded rude.

Hongjoong laughed, “Ready to get rid of me already?”

Seonghwa blushed, “No, no. Sorry. I realize how that sounded. I'm happy you're here. Staying with us.” His gut twisted at the last part. Hongjoong. Staying into their guest bedroom. Their rooms were jack-and-jill, connected by a shared bathroom.

“I'll be here at least through New Years. I'm taking an extended vacation.”

Fuck. It was October 3rd. Three months.

Maybe Hongjoong was straight. Maybe it wouldn't be an issue.

It was an issue.

Hongjoong seemed to be hell-bent on trying to not-so-subtly flirt with Seonghwa all night.

“Yeah, work has been hard.” Hongjoong’s foot was out of his loafer, tracing up Seonghwa’s ankle, “My days are long.” A wink that Yunho had conveniently missed.

He was sure Hongjoong would have stopped if Seonghwa had given any indication he wasn't into it. Unfortunately, he was very into it. His breathing became hard to regulate, cheeks flushing, both things easy enough to place blame upon the alcohol they were drinking over the appropriate place for blame - Hongjoong's foot working its way further up his leg. When it reached the junction of his inner thigh, Seonghwa stood up abruptly, mumbling a mostly coherent excuse about needing the bathroom.

Once in there, he splashed his face with cold water, trying to get it together. He took a few steadying breaths and washed his hands before heading back out, trying to keep Yunho's voice in his head, asking him to not sleep with his brother. He hadn't expected wanting to so badly when he agreed without second thought earlier. How was he supposed to know Hongjoong had grown out of his awkward stuck-up goody two shoes phase and into… whatever the fuck he was now. Hot. Domineering. Interesting. Confident but not cocky. Did he mention hot? So fucking hot.

“Everything okay?” Hongjoong asked, eyebrow cocked, sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Oh, uh.” Seonghwa sat down, crossed his legs, gave Hongjoong a look he hoped conveyed that they should cool it for now, “Yeah, all good.”

“Perfect.” Hongjoong said, “I already took care of the bill. You guys ready to head out?”

“You didn't have to do that, Joong.” Yunho told him.

“I know,” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa when he spoke next, “but I wanted to.”

Seonghwa wished he had an excuse to not ride back with the two of them, but he had taken the train there and there was no reason to not let Yunho drive him when they were all going to the same place. Hongjoong rode up front, which Seonghwa was grateful for. Though under different (read: literally any other) circumstances, he would have been happy for the man to ride in the back with him. In his lap. Fingers in his mouth, even.

His mouth watered at the thought of it.

It was going to be a long fucking three months.

Once back at their apartment, Seonghwa and Yunho helped Hongjoong carry his belongings from the car into the guest bedroom, the man in question thanking them before saying he was going to go ahead and turn in for the night, citing jet lag as his excuse.

Seonghwa didn't expect to see him again, and he also wasn't used to sharing his bathroom, so he was quite startled when he opened the unlocked door to reveal a shirtless Hongjoong brushing his teeth at the sink closest to his respective room. He was in thin light blue sleep pants, but his tattoos were the most surprising thing. His half sleeve had been hidden by his sweater earlier, but the design was bold and beautiful, just like its owner.

Seonghwa was probably gaping at him for too long before he shook out of it, “Shit! Sorry. Not used to someone being in here. I can just-”

Hongjoong stared at him as he leaned down to spit in the sink, breaking eye contact at the very last second, taking his time finishing up before finally wiping his mouth and turning towards the guest room, his bedroom (Seonghwa would have to get used to thinking of it as that), calling a very nonchalant, “All yours,” over his shoulder as he exited.

All of that lead up for… nothing?

What sort of mind games was he playing?

Hands suddenly landing on his waist startled the hell out of Seonghwa as he fixed himself an omelet the next morning, nearly causing him to flop his breakfast onto the burner.

“Smells good,” Hongjoong whispered into his ear.

Yunho was already at work. Seonghwa was closing at the bar that night so he had most of the day free. He had gotten up early after a fitful sleep, and began finally cleaning like he had been trying to force himself to do for a month now. It felt good.

“Want one?” He tried not to let on what Hongjoong’s touch was doing to his brain. He was probably failing miserably, “I'll make a second one. I don't mind.”

“Mmh, how very domestic of you, dear.” Hongjoong all but growled in his ear.

Jesus. The butterflies’ wings caught on fire in his abdomen. He subconsciously leaned back into Hongjoong's embrace, pliant in his hands.

“Do you still take your coffee with half and half?” He managed to get out through shaking breaths.

“What a good memory you have.” Hongjoong whispered, lips ghosting down his neck, not actually making contact, only teasing, making him shiver. His presence was gone as soon as it had come, leaving Seonghwa feeling almost crazy for thinking it had happened in the first place.

He finished preparing both omelets and fixed their coffees, setting all of them on their little dining table. Hongjoong chose to sit directly across from him, making sure Seonghwa could watch him enjoy the food he had prepared.

Hongjoong didn't make any more moves though, and after they were finished, he cleared the table before Seonghwa could protest, thanking him for breakfast, practically dismissing him.

“I hope I won't bother you by cleaning. I go into work around 3pm so I won't be a nuisance for too long.” Seonghwa didn't know why he was telling him his plans for the day.

“No bother at all.” Hongjoong spoke to him while washing the dishes but didn't look up, “Where do you work?”

“Oh. Um. It's a bar called The Bar is Low. Near uptown. It's not really a gay bar but I guess we attract a certain clientele.” He was rambling.

“Yes, I can imagine you attract a certain clientele.” Hongjoong said it like he was implying the customers were there for Seonghwa alone.

“Well. Joke is on them because I'm not interested.” Seonghwa answered dryly.

“No? You're not gay?” Hongjoong asked.

“Ha! No, no. I'm definitely bi. I'm just not interested in dating anyone right now. Haven't been for almost six months now.”

“Bad breakup?”

Seonghwa felt tears well up behind his eyes, which pissed him off. He thought he was done crying about it by now. He answered, hoping his voice didn't sound too thick with the looming tears, “Yeah. Not been the best year for me.”

“Mmh. Well. You deserve to be with someone who sees your value, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong said it so casually, glancing over his shoulder as he did.

Seonghwa picked nonexistent lint off of his t-shirt rather than make eye contact, mumbled a “Thank you,” under his breath, trying to swallow the tears down.

Hongjoong was too damn astute, though.

“Hey, whoa, I'm sorry,” he dried his hands in a hurry, now finished with the dishes, “Come here.” He rushed over, pulling Seonghwa in for a hug. Seonghwa began sobbing embarrassingly hard, soaking Hongjoong’s shirt, choking out apologies, “God, I'm sorry, I haven't cried about it in weeks. Fuck.”

“Shh,” Hongjoong rubbed soothing circles on his back, “Don't apologize for having feelings, honey. You're okay.”

“Sorry.” Seonghwa repeated himself despite the instructions he had just gotten, pulling away from the hug.

Hongjoong reached up to wipe his face dry with a gentle thumb, repeating himself, “You're okay. Hey, look at me.”

Seonghwa obeyed, finding the other's eyes to be softer than he'd seen them so far.

“I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. I didn't know about the breakup.” Hongjoong offered, hand still on Seonghwa’s cheek.

“Oh,” Seonghwa swallowed, “No. Um. I don't mind.” He thought he was probably blushing profusely, using every brain cell he had left to keep his eyes locked with Hongjoong's, “I like the attention.” He admitted, so quietly he barely heard it himself.

“Noted.” Hongjoong’s thumb traced his jawline, “You’re in control here, Hwa. I want you to know that. Just say the word. Either way. And I'll stop. Slow down. Or… I'll start in earnest. But it's up to you how this goes, darling.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Seonghwa managed to choke out, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. Too bad he was still chicken shit scared, “Um. I'm gonna. Go. Uh. Clean. Sorry about your shirt.”

Hongjoong chuckled, “Stop apologizing. I'll see you later.” He stepped back, leaving Seonghwa room to step away and head towards his room.

And he did clean. As soon as he got off to the thought of Hongjoong, fingers stuffed in his mouth and music blaring to muffle the noises. Maybe he left the bathroom door connected to his room open just a tiny crack, though. Maybe he hoped Hongjoong had caught a glimpse.

“Need a re-make for table eleven on the fly, please!” Wooyoung’s voice broke through Seonghwa’s thoughts. He had been drying the same glass for who knows how long, lost deep in thought about a certain new roommate of his.

“Hwa!” Wooyoung pleaded from the expo area.

“Sorry!” Seonghwa strided over, “What’s wrong with these?” The martinis looked perfectly fine to him.

“They swear those are gin. They ordered vodka.” Wooyoung explained.

Seonghwa grabbed a cocktail straw and dipped it into one of the martinis in front of him, stoppering the end with his thumb and dropping the liquid into his mouth.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s gin. In my defense, vodka martinis should be criminal.” He said as he began shoveling ice and pouring water into two clean martini glasses to chill them before making the drinks.

“I like vodka martinis.” Wooyoung defended himself. “Bone dry and slutty filthy dirty.”

Seonghwa scrunched his nose in disgust, “You just like olive juice. And this is why they only let people with good palates be bartenders.”

Wooyoung brushed his split-dyed hair out of his eyes, pouting, “I have a good palate! It’s just different. And you got this job because the manager said he was afraid you’d kill him if he didn’t let you bartend!”

“And I might have! Fuck waiting tables. Bartender privilege is amazing in comparison.”

“Who was going to kill me?” A deep voice rounded the corner of the kitchen into the bar.

“He was, Yeosang! Not me. I’d never. You’re too pretty.” Wooyoung batted his lashes at his work crush.

Yeosang blushed, trying to contain his smile, his face turning pink to match the birthmark by his eye. He tied his neon green hair back into a half-up, purposely avoiding Wooyoung’s gaze, “You really shouldn’t flirt with your manager, Wooyo.”

Wooyoung landed a firm smack on Yeosang’s ass as he passed by, before placing the correctly made martinis on his tray and sauntering away.

They thought no one knew they had been sleeping together. They were stupid. And horrible at hiding it.

Wooyoung reappeared a few minutes later, “So what’s got your brain on a different planet tonight?” He asked, leaning across the bar, nosy as ever.

“Yunho’s brother is in town. For like three months” He said, not intending to elaborate, but knowing Wooyoung would pry until he got it out of him anyway.

“The stick-in-the-mud twink attorney?”

“The very one.” Seonghwa sighed, resuming his task of drying dishes. It was slow that night. He had mainly been doing side work, not so much actually making drinks.

“What, is he secretly hot or something?” Wooyoung was stabbing cocktail cherries onto a sword-shaped toothpick.

“Very astute.” Seonghwa placed the cherries down on the rail below the bar back where they belonged before resuming his task.

Wooyoung ate the cherries on his toothpick and leaned over the bar to retrieve the jar, “Why is that a problem?”

“Because,” Seonghwa swatted Wooyoung’s hand away, “Hey! Enough with the cherries. Because Yunho specifically made me promise not to sleep with him!”

Wooyoung waited until his back was turned to snatch the jar, hiding it under the bar this time as he fished more cherries out, “So? Just do it anyway. That’s what I would do. Isn’t he just visiting? Do it and ask for forgiveness later.” He tried to put the jar back before Seonghwa noticed.

“Did you just-?”

“No? Just what?” Wooyoung said around a mouthful of cherries.

“You’re such a little brat.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Really, he was quite fond of his coworker. He made it nearly impossible not to like him.

“You love me.” Wooyoung trotted away to clear the only table they had had in over an hour. Tuesday nights were like this. Yeosang would probably cut him soon and take over bartending for the rest of the night to save on labor costs. And so he could close with Wooyoung and make out in the back. Whatever. Saturday nights always made up for a whole slow week.

Seonghwa picked up takeout on his way home and had just sat down at the kitchen table to eat it when his phone lit up with a notification.

Yucifer

Crashing at Mingi’s tonight. Just a head’s up. Feel free to toss my laundry on my bed if you need the dryer.

Thanks man, later.

He tucked into his food, trying to not let his mind spiral at the thought of being home alone with Hongjoong that night. A few minutes later, his phone lit up again

[Unsaved Number]

Looks like it’s just us tonight.

Hongjoong?

[Unsaved Number]

The one and only

Wanna get stoned and watch a movie

Kim Hongjoong does illicit substances now? Since when?

Evil Man

Shut up. And Hurry up. Shower and brush your teeth and meet me on the couch in 30

Heat coiled in Seonghwa’s gut. He hated how much he liked how bossy Hongjoong was acting.

Aye, aye, captain

Evil Man

Nevermind I decided I hate you

Wait, no, come back. What about “yes, sir”?

Evil Man

Much better.

Yes, sir

Evil Man

Mmh, I could get used to that

Seonghwa didn’t necessarily think Wooyoung gave out the best advice. But after the year he’d had so far, he decided to throw caution to the wind. Two fingers deep inside of himself in the shower, thinking of Hongjoong’s instructions the whole time, he was more sure of his decision than ever. He had never ever broken a promise to Yunho. Sure, he felt a little bad about it, but Yunho would have to understand that he hadn’t felt so alive in months. He needed this.

He sat staring at his collection of sex toys in his bedside table drawer for too long, wasting time, risking being late, before finally selecting his favorite butt plug, guiding it inside with practiced ease. Another risk, but screw it.

He finally emerged from his bedroom dressed in the shortest silk sleep shorts he owned. Light silver. A matching silk babydoll shirt, trimmed with black lace, on top, hair wavy and messy after his shower. The outfit was probably too much. Yeji had had a habit of making him feel weird about his good looks, not on purpose, he was sure, but in a way that read as her being intimidated and wanting to be the “pretty” one in the relationship. But he liked feeling pretty. He wanted to be told he was pretty, but he felt silly asking for it. So he felt a little embarrassed as he walked (slightly awkwardly) out of his room into the living room.

All of his fears were quickly erased at the look on Hongjoong’s face as he emerged. He was wearing the same light blue pants from last night, dark hair swept off of his forehead, the planes of his chest visible through his thin black t-shirt.

“Oh, darling. Look at you. All of this for me?” Hongjoong asked, beckoning him over, patting his lap.

Seonghwa nodded as he straddled his lap gingerly, trying his best to avoid jostling around too much or else the plug would be uncomfortable.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” Hongjoong instructed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yes, sir. All for you.” Seonghwa replied, his voice low, a little raspy from his nerves.

“Lucky me.” Hongjoong whispered, hands roaming Seonghwa’s body, thumb grazing his nipple on its way down, making Seonghwa’s breath catch in his throat, before landing on his hip, which he gave a small squeeze, “You’re exquisite, angel.” His hand continued down, landing on Seonghwa’s ass cheek, fingertips pulling him apart ever so slightly. Seonghwa squeaked out a tiny moan at the sensation, senses heightened with the object he was playing host to.

“I got myself ready for you in the shower.” He admitted, forehead tipping down to Hongjoong’s as the man kneaded the soft flesh underneath his hand.

“Trying to be teacher’s pet are we?” Hongjoong teased as his hand found its way under the silky fabric of Seonghwa’s shorts, fingers dipping in the soft crevice before they discovered the exposed part of the plug, “Oh. Well, look at you. A little presumptuous, no?”

“Sorry.” Heat flooded Seonghwa’s cheeks, the embarrassment suddenly almost overwhelming, tears threatening to build in his eyes.

“No, no, no,” Hongjoong tilted his chin up with his other hand, “Uh-uh. I love it. Don’t get in your own head. I’m thrilled you picked up on my lead and even more so that you’re here, presenting yourself to me like this. It’s so hot, baby. I promise. I won’t tease so much, I’m sorry.”

“‘S okay.” Seonghwa murmured, still recovering.

“We can stop any time, promise.” Hongjoong kissed his cheek to seal the contract.

“I don’t want to stop. I just feel a little bad because I promised Yunho I wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what? Sleep with me?” Hongjoong asked, petting Seonghwa’s hair.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, baby. He has been talking you up to me for months now. He didn’t explicitly mention the breakup, but I figured it was something like that.” Hongjoong laughed, “He probably told you that so this would feel forbidden or something. I get the feeling you like to do the opposite of what you’re told, typically. When you’re feeling more like yourself, no? I mean does he have a habit of crashing at Mingi’s? My guess is he thinks this will help you get over your ex. He’s a schemer like that.”

Oh. OH.

“Well. I feel stupid.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t.” Hongjoong pulled him to his chest, kissed the top of his head, “You’re not stupid, you’re a good friend. You’re just out of sorts. And that’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good, Seonghwa. Will you let me?”

Seonghwa steeled himself, sitting up to look at Hongjoong, “Yes. Please. I want that so bad.”

Hongjoong smiled, his eyes beginning to turn back to their original dark, lustful state, “Good. I’m glad. Because you look good enough to eat right now and I might go crazy if I can’t have you.”

Blood rushed south at his words, suddenly nothing felt nearly as important as pleasing the man underneath him, “You can have me. Please have me.” He pleaded, hips swiveling into Hongjoong’s at the thought of it.

“Oh, I plan on it.” Hongjoong’s hand returned to grab his ass, guiding him to grind down again, “I’m going to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together again so that the only word you can remember how to say is my name.”

Fuck.

“Yes, please. I want that, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa all but begged, continuing to move his hips as the other guided them, their quickly hardening cocks rolling together tantalizingly.

“Come here, then, pretty.” Hongjoong whispered, finally pulling him in for a kiss.

Seonghwa felt his brain go fuzzy. The kiss was deliberate, measured. He wasn't going to give Seonghwa too much at once, preferring to take his time, draw it out. Seonghwa was more accustomed to heated, passionate sex. Clothes ripped off in a whirlwind. Rushing towards the finish line without taking in the scenery.

Seonghwa tried to lean in more to deepen the kiss but Hongjoong pushed him back gently, “No, baby. Let me. You just let me take care of you. Can you be good for me?”

Seonghwa wanted him so bad, could have taken him in one go right there, easily. But he was very interested in letting him lead, “Okay, yes.” He sighed, “Yes, sir.” He corrected himself.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong stroked his hair, “So good for me.”

Seonghwa preened at the praise, leaning into the other's hand.

Hongjoong reached for something on the table beside the couch, producing a small, light blue intricate weed pipe, already packed and ready to go, as well as a gold zippo, engraved with his initials, “Still wanna smoke?”

“Sure, if you do.” Seonghwa offered.

“I do. I want to shotgun with you.”

“Look at you, Kim Hongjoong! Full of surprises.” Seonghwa teased him.

Hongjoong’s face turned devious, “I'm not the one who is about to be full of something, jagi.” He trailed his hand down Seonghwa's face, thumb tracing over his bottom lip before using both hands to take the first hit from the pipe. Once he freed one hand again, he reached up and pressed at the spot where Seonghwa’s jaw hinged, asking him to open up. He obliged and let his face be pulled towards Hongjoong's, lips so close they were almost touching. He took the hit, inhaling greedily like it was oxygen.

“Your turn, love.” Hongjoong handed Seonghwa the pipe as he exhaled.

Seonghwa took his hit and leaned in to pass it along to Hongjoong. Time passed slowly as the high began to hit and he exhaled into Hongjoon's mouth. The latter barely let him fully release the hit before he was crashing their lips together, this time with more need, fervently. Seonghwa blindly placed the pipe down on the table beside them, not caring much how it landed. Nothing else was important right now.

He felt Hongjoong’s fingers latch into his hair, tugging it slightly as he turned his head to the side, tongue teasing the seam of his lips before finally probing inside, eliciting an embarrassingly needy whine from somewhere deep inside Seonghwa’s chest. Seonghwa's tongue sparred with Hongjoong's until the latter caught it and sucked on it, nearly sending Seonghwa into a dizzy spiral of pleasure.

Hongjoong pulled back abruptly, “Bed. Now.” He commanded. Seonghwa got up, his thighs shaky from straddling Hongjoong for who knows how long.

“Mine or yours?” Seonghwa asked as he grabbed Hongjoong'a hand, leading them towards their connected bedrooms.

“Yours, gorgeous. I'm not even unpacked yet.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa simpered, loving being bossed around.

“Kneel on the bed for me, darling.” Hongjoong instructed.

Seonghwa did as he was told, hands in his lap, ass resting on his heels.

He watched as Hongjoong stripped in front of him, maintaining eye contact as much as was possible, leaving his crisp linen boxers for last, peeling them off slowly, releasing his fully-hard cock. It was lovely, not braggadociously large but well-proportioned, nicely formed, and flushed pretty pink. Seonghwa was apparently staring at it with stars in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Hongjoong asked as he stroked himself, walking towards the bed.

“Yes, sir. Want you in my mouth. Can I? Please?” Seonghwa asked, peering up at him through his thick eyelashes.

Hongjoong smiled, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He climbed up onto the bed in front of Seonghwa, kneeling but raised up so his cock was level with Seonghwa’s eager mouth.

“You can pull my hair.” Seonghwa offered as he took Hongjoong’s length into his hand, “I like to know if I'm doing well.”

“I'll be sure you know how well you're doing, beautiful.” Hongjoong smiled as he stroked Seonghwa’s hair.

Seonghwa licked his lips, glad the weed hadn't hit so hard to have given him dry mouth, and began licking the tender underside of Hongjoong’s tip before working it inside genuinely.

Hongjoong moaned as Seonghwa sucked him in, hollowing out his cheeks, hitting his soft palate. He felt his hair be tugged on, “God, yes, baby. Just like that.” Hongjoong praised from above.

Seonghwa hummed at the praise, setting a pace, bobbing his head and working his tongue in time with the strokes. He could feel Hongjoong's hips stuttering, trying not to fuck his face, getting close to his release. Suddenly, Hongjoong pulled on his hair, backing up a little, “You're going to make me cum like that, baby.” His hand caressed his cheek, “And as much as I'd like that, I really want to cum inside you.”

“Yes. God. I want that.” Seonghwa stared up at him knowing he probably already looked fucked out with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

Hongjoong chuckled, “Mmh so eager. You're dangerous, little bunny.”

Seonghwa let himself be pushed back onto the mattress, “Dangerous?”

“Very. You're going to have me tempted to keep you.” Hongjoong's hands grabbed Seonghwa’s wrists, pinned them up by his head as he leaned down to kiss him once more, caging him in, not allowing a reply. He came up for air and dismounted, following a hunch for supplies, looking towards Seonghwa as his hand landed on the drawer pull of his bedside table. Seonghwa nodded, confirming the location of the lube and condoms. Hongjoong gathered them and placed them within reach on the bed beside Seonghwa before climbing back in, kneeling between his parted legs.

Seonghwa gasped as Hongjoong dove in, kissing his neck, making his way down to his chest where he mouthed and licked at his still-covered nipples, the friction of the now-damp fabric driving him insane. His top was gathered up by practiced hands, torso bared for further exploration. Hongjoong's breath was warm as he kissed down his happy trail before coming up long enough to peel his tiny shorts off, tossing them to the side before resuming his kisses, landing everywhere except for his painfully hard, leaking cock.

“Mmh, look at you.” Hongjoong cooed, “You're so stunning, Seonghwa.”

“Thank you.” Seonghwa gasped, his breath catching as Hongjoong's deft fingers found his plug once again, grasping the base and teasing it in and out with tiny movements that had Seonghwa’s back arching off the bed.

“Oh fuck, please.” Seonghwa begged, writhing on the bed at the sensation.

“Please, what, jagiya?” Hongjoong purred, obviously knowing exactly what he wanted, “Use your words, gorgeous.”

“Please, need you to fuck me, sir.”

Hongjoong took his time removing the plug, leaving Seonghwa clenching around nothing, feeling extremely empty.

“Well. Since you're begging so nice.” Hongjoong rolled on the condom like it was second nature, following it with plenty of lube.

Hongjoong grasped Seonghwa’s length in one hand, barely applying pressure, and teased everywhere except his eagerly awaiting ring of muscle with his own cock, guided by his other hand.

Seonghwa was sweating now, desperate in his anticipation, letting out a soft whine.

Hongjoong smiled knowingly down at him, “Shh, darling. I know. I don't mean to be cruel, you're just so lovely, all strung out for me. But I think you've earned this.”

Seonghwa thought he might have ascended to a different astral plane at the stretch of Hongjoong pushing inside. It was delectable. He had never felt so precious, so worshipped by anyone before. He took Hongjoong easily, adoring how perfectly full he felt once the man was buried deep inside of him.

“Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.” Hongjoong gasped, unable to help the movement of his hips as he began fucking Seonghwa in earnest.

“God, yes, right there, Joong.” Seonghwa gasped as Hongjoong found his prostate. “Not gonna last long like this.”

“Can you be a good boy and cum for me when I tell you to, baby?” Hongjoong asked, voice strained from the effort.

“Yes, sir. Please. Fuck.” Seonghwa mewled.

Hongjoong stroked him in time with his thrusts, his hips beginning to falter as he reached the edge of his own release, “Go ahead, darling. Show me how pretty you are when I make you cum.”

Seonghwa obeyed, panting out Hongjoong's name as he came all over his hand and his own chest.

“Fuck, yes. That's it, baby.” Hongjoong worked him through his aftershocks, before trying to pull out.

“No!” Seonghwa gasped, definitely overstimulated, but needing Hongjoong to follow through on his promise, “Inside! Please. I can take it.”

Hongjoong didn't reply, but his eyebrow furrowed as he accepted Seonghwa’s plea, fucking into him hard and fast before finally reaching his own orgasm, spilling into the condom with a shaky breath. He took his time pulling out, falling to the bed beside Seonghwa, gathering him to his chest and stroking his hair while praising him sweetly, “Thank you, baby. You were so good for me. Took me so well. So, so good.” Hongjoong kissed his head, squeezing him tight to make sure he knew he was cared for and appreciated.

Seonghwa felt tears escape, warm as they traveled down his cheeks, unable to hold them back. Hongjoong didn't even bat an eye, just coddled and comforted him, “Shh, jagi, it's okay. Let it out. You're okay. I've got you.”

“Sorry.” Seonghwa sniffled, “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Hongjoong tilted his head up to meet his eyes, “Hey. Nothing is wrong with you, baby. You're perfect. It's normal to react like this after sex like that. Especially if it was your first time in a while. Okay? Nothing is wrong with you, Seonghwa.” He kissed the tears off of his cheeks, “Absolutely nothing.”

Seonghwa managed to compose himself and Hongjoong started to sit up, but Seonghwa panicked, “Wait, where are you going? Please don't leave!”

Hongjoong smiled, smoothing his hair, “I'm not going anywhere, angel. I just wanted to go start us a shower. Okay? I can stay here for a little longer, too, if you want.”

“Just a few more minutes? Sorry. I'm a mess.”

“No, sweetheart. You're not. I'll stay as long as you need.”

A few minutes passed and Seonghwa finally convinced himself to let Hongjoong start the shower, soon returning to collect him from the bed. Hongjoong held him gently as he washed his body, fingers soft as they washed his hair. Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel sad, already mourning the fact that Hongjoong would be leaving in three months. What had once felt like an eternity now felt entirely too short.

“Joong?” He asked as the other was putting down the hairdryer.

“What's up?”

“I'm scared.”

“Of what, honey?” Hongjoong’s eyebrow furrowed once again.

“I'm scared I'll grow attached.” He took a shaky breath, “I'm scared I already have.”

Hongjoong smiled, a hint of sadness behind his eyes, “It's okay, Hwa. No one ever wants to keep me around for very long. I'm sure by the time I'm leaving you'll be glad for it.”

“Why do you say that?” Seonghwa asked, suddenly concerned.

“It's just never not been true.” Hongjoong shrugged.

“And what if I want to keep you?” Seonghwa asked timidly.

“Then we'll talk about it when we get there. If we get there.” Hongjoong answered simply.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Seonghwa asked, reaching for the man’s hand, so delicate and pretty for someone so intense.

“Of course I will, Hwa.” Hongjoong promised, “Anything you want.”

Hongjoong fit so perfectly nestled in Seonghwa's arms that he knew as soon as the other fell asleep, he would never be able to bear letting him go. He couldn't stand the thought of him moving back to Australia. Unless he was going in his suitcase. It wasn't like he had a whole lot going on here. Was that crazy? Move halfway across the world to be with someone whom two days ago, he had sworn he would have no interest in sleeping with? He decided to let his subconscious mind work that one out, finally meeting the sweet embrace of sleep.

“Slut.” Something hit Seonghwa’s face. “Whore.” Again. “Harlot.” Yunho's voice. “Promise breaker.” He was throwing Cheerios at the two of them, still curled up in bed together. “Jezebel.”

“Fuck off, Yunho.” Seonghwa grumbled, seeking asylum under his comforter.

“No! You're the Skanky McBetrayerface!” Yunho whined, obviously joking, but still being a nuisance, just because he could.

“Yun.” Hongjoong sighed, “I told him you were scheming. Now please, fuck off. I'm trying to give your roommate some morning dick.”

“Ew.” Yunho's voice held genuine disgust, “Fine. But hey, Seonghwa. Don't say I didn't warn you when he drives you crazy in a few weeks!”

“Please fuck all the way off before I let your brother penetrate me in front of you!” Seonghwa called, already beginning to straddle Hongjoong from underneath the covers.

“Okay fine. You guys are mean.” Yunho stomped off dramatically, playing the part of youngest sibling remarkably well.

“Um actually, can I fuck you this time?” Seonghwa asked after removing his mouth from the pulse point under Hongjoong’s jaw.

“Oh, fuck yeah, by all means.”

Hongjoong was bouncing on his dick and Seonghwa felt amazing but the two of them kept bursting into fits of giggles as they were trying desperately to be quiet for Yunho's sake. Eventually, Seonghwa had to pull out and take him from behind so they could finish, seeing as every time they made eye contact, it devolved into laughter immediately.

It was proving quite handy for their bedrooms to share a bathroom.

As the weeks went on though, they pretty much only stayed in Seonghwa’s bed. Hongjoong unpacked very slowly, almost like he thought at any point he would be asked to leave.

The comment that both he and Yunho had made about getting sick of him kept rattling around in the back of his mind, making less and less sense as he got to know the man better.

Sure, Hongjoong liked knowing his whereabouts. He could see maybe how some people might find that to be overbearing or controlling. But in all honesty, Seonghwa liked it. He liked that someone cared enough to keep tabs on him like that. Hongjoong liked to read. A lot. He read non-fiction. Historical non-fiction. And the newspaper. He was very serious about the crosswords. He didn’t go out a whole lot. And sure, he was bad about spending his money on clothes rather than saving it. Seonghwa saw what could have been perceived as flaws, but to him, they were endearing. He was growing so incredibly fond. And the sex had only gotten better as time went on.

Hongjoong came by the bar for the first time on Halloween. He was picking Seonghwa up after work to go to the party his old friend from boarding school, Jongho, had invited him to. They were going dressed as sexy Lincoln and sexy John Wilkes Booth. It was stupid. But it was funny to them.

“Is that the hot brother?” Wooyoung asked as he waited at the bar for Seonghwa to prepare the drinks for his table.

“Who?” Seonghwa asked, not knowing Hongjoong was there yet, haven’t having had time to check his phone all night due to how busy they were.

“The Booth to your Lincoln over there at the end of the bar.”

Hongjoong was there looking handsome as ever, if not a little goofy, and nervous for some reason.

“Oh, Yeah. That is definitely him!” Seonghwa answered, sighing at how adorable he found the man.

“Okay, yeah. I get it. He’s hot.” Wooyoung leaned in, “Is he like crazy dominant in bed? Because he looks like he would cannibalize anyone who looked at you for too long.”

“I am not dignifying that with an answer.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes, “But. Um. Yeah. It’s kind of incredibly hot.”

“Oh, I get it. Yeosang is territorial, too. I think it’s probably not something everyone is into. Yeosang apologized for being that way a lot when we first started hooking up. But I kept reassuring him that I like it. It’s hot. It’s nice to feel wanted like that.” Wooyoung was staring off into space, obviously deep in thought about Yeosang.

“Hm. Yeah. That’s exactly it. Maybe that’s what they meant…”

“What who meant?” Wooyoung asked, curious as ever.

“Hongjoong and Yunho. They both said something to the effect of knowing that I would eventually get sick of Hongjoong. I think they were talking about him being possessive. But you’re right. I think it’s very, very attractive.” Seonghwa was actually getting a little hot and bothered just at the thought of it.

“Okay, ew. Stop drooling. Can you please leave now? I like watching Yeosang bartend and I can’t do that if you’re here. Plus you’ve already made beaucoup tips.” He shook their oversized tip jar. It was true. It was nearly brimming over with cash and he saw plenty of bigger bills in there.

“Slut.” He fished the cash out, “Okay byeeee!” He called after pocketing his tips and closing out his drawer, collecting Hongjoong on his way out.

Jongho’s place was super cool, modern and expensive, looking like somewhere a Bond villain might reside, and the man himself was a little cold at first but quickly warmed up to Seonghwa the longer they spent together. Everyone loved their outfits. One man, Jongho’s friend, San, really liked Abe Lincoln, apparently. He kept touching his costume and leaning in, clearly not one to hold his alcohol well. Seonghwa didn't think he was flirting, really, mostly because he had seen him interact with plenty of others the same way that night. He figured the man was just touchy and friendly. Hongjoong spotted them talking and came over to snake his arm around Seonghwa’s waist. “Hi, baby.” Hongjoong all but sneered at San as he spoke, “Making friends?” He asked before pulling Seonghwa in for a messy kiss. Once released, Seonghwa watched as the man’s cat-like features went through a series of emotions, from confusion to understanding to acceptance, walking away with a small wave.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I felt the need to do that.” Hongjoong said, shaking his head and stepping away from Seonghwa.

“What? It doesn’t bother me, Joongie.” Seonghwa offered, reaching for him again.

Hongjoong took another step away, “No. I need to stop. I’m sorry.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk away, but Seonghwa caught his arm.

“Hey, whoa. Can we go somewhere and talk about this, please?”

“I know we haven’t been here long but can we go home if we’re going to talk about it?” Hongjoong asked, looking up at Seonghwa apologetically.

“Yeah, sure, of course. Of course we can, baby.” Seonghwa reassured him.

Hongjoong stared out the window in the backseat of the Uber the whole drive back to their apartment. He let Seonghwa hold his hand, but that was about it. Seonghwa’s mind was racing the entire way there. When they finally got back, he suggested they get showered and changed and meet in the living room afterwards. Hongjoong nodded, still refusing to make eye contact. Seonghwa showered quickly and changed clothes before heading into the kitchen to put on some water to make tea. Two cups of lavender chamomile with honey. He didn’t know if Hongjoong liked tea, but the ritual of making it helped calm his nerves anyway. By the time he carried the tea cups over to the coffee table in the living room, Hongjoong was finally emerging, face pink from being scrubbed clean, hair still wet, wearing one of Seonghwa’s sweatshirts he had evidently left in his room, looking rather small and vulnerable in it, seeing as it was big on him.

“Come here,” Seonghwa offered, patting the couch beside him, “I made tea, does that sound good?”

Hongjoong sat down beside him on the couch, not touching him, but nodding at the offer of a hot beverage. Seonghwa handed him the mug carefully, warning that it was hot, trying to study his face, but remaining patient.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said after taking a sip, “This is nice. I don’t know why you’re being so kind to me.”

“Hongjoong, no offense, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely confused.

“I…” Hongjoong finally met his eyes, looking completely distraught, “I don’t know where to start. I have some bad habits that I’m trying to break. But it’s hard. And I thought I was over them. Thought I could control them with you. Obviously I’m just as insane as I used to be.”

“First of all, you’re not insane. Second, can you elaborate? What habits?” Seonghwa dared to place a hand on the other’s knee to try to comfort him.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, “I had a bad breakup, too. A few years ago. He cheated on me, made me think it was my fault, somehow. I stayed in it way too long trying to be ‘better’, be who he needed me to be to stay happy. But that was never going to happen. I should have known. There was no pleasing him. He swore up and down that he had stopped seeing the other guy but I knew he was lying and I ended up following him to prove myself right. I should have just fucking let it go. But then I confirmed it. After that, the harder I tried to cling on to him, the more distant he got. I wish I would have had enough self respect to just leave, but I was so stubborn. Ever since then, I have been kinda paranoid in relationships. It’s not that I can’t trust, it’s just that everything kind of feels like a threat, I guess. So I like knowing where my partner is. I like everyone else knowing they’re mine. That kind of behavior is typically a turn-off to people. That’s what I meant when I said I would scare you off. And when those feelings came up tonight after seeing you talking to San… I don’t even have any claim to you, Seonghwa. And I still couldn’t hold it together. I’m so fucking frustrated with myself.” Tears streaked down his face at the last part.

Seonghwa carefully removed the tea cup out of his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and pulled the man into his lap. It was his turn to comfort.

“Oh, Joong. You’re okay, baby.” He stroked his hair, rubbed circles on his back, “Hey,” he leaned back slightly so he could look the other in the eye, “Look at me. No one I’ve ever been with has cared enough about me to ask my whereabouts. They parade me around because I’m a pretty object to be shown off. The possessiveness you’ve shown so far… I like it, Hongjoong. I was just talking to my co-worker about it at the bar when he saw you there, looking like you would happily murder anyone who dared to look at me for too long. Do I see how it could turn toxic? Sure, but I don’t think you’re toxic, Hongjoong. I think we both have some flaws. And I think we’re both adults who can work through them, if we want to. Personally, I want to. Have you balked at all any of the times I’ve been a hot mess after getting emotional? No. You’ve just helped me through it. And I would do the same for you, happily. As far as a ‘claim’ to me goes. Hongjoong. I want that. I know you thought you would scare me off but I knew after that first night, I want this with you. I know you have to go back to Australia and I honestly don’t know what it would look like, but I really, really want to try. I want to be yours, baby. Please. Let me.”

Hongjoong studied him for a moment like he thought he might burst out into laughter and yell ‘Sike!’ in his face or something. But of course, he didn’t. Seonghwa was dead serious.

“You want me to claim you?” He asked, finally, eyes now dry and turning dark with desire.

“Yes, baby. Please. Want everyone to know who I belong to.” Seonghwa felt heat stirring deep in his abdomen.

“So I can mark you?”

“Yes. God, yes. Anywhere you want.” Seonghwa’s hands trailed down Hongjoong’s flank, desperate to touch him.

“I’m going to make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” Hongjoong growled, pulling them both to their feet, abandoning their tea in favor of heading to Seonghwa’s bedroom.

Hongjoong had left marks all over Seonghwa’s neck and down his thighs as he opened him up.

“Are you clean? Can I take you raw? Please?” Seonghwa begged as Hongjoong reached for the condom.

“I am. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I said I wanted to be claimed. Want you to stuff me full, get me pregnant, baby. Wanna feel you leak out of me.” He was babbling, but he meant every word.

“Christ, Hwa.” Hongjoong grunted as he applied lube before pulling Seonghwa into his lap, guiding him down carefully onto his cock, chest to chest as they made love, Seonghwa’s own dick pinned between their torsos. They caught their release simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, panting versions of each other’s names.

They had to change the sheets after their shower.

Later, in bed together, Seonghwa tried to confess his feelings.

“Hongjoong?” He asked timidly from his spot on the man’s chest.

“Hm?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” He said it so quietly he was afraid Hongjoong hadn’t heard.

“Baby… you’re just feeling good from the sex. Tell me again in the morning if you still feel that way, okay? I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean. You still barely know me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know how I feel.” He was feeling a little stubborn then, “I will tell you in the morning. Because I mean it.”

“Okay, darling. Get some sleep.” Hongjoong whispered, stroking his back in time with his breaths.

“G’night.” Seonghwa replied, brain already foggy, half asleep.

“Goodnight, my little bunny.” Hongjoong kissed the crown of his head.

Seonghwa woke up alone. He knew Hongjoong was gone. He could just feel it. The note on his bedside table only confirmed his fears.

Seonghwa,

I’m sorry. You deserve better than what I can offer. I’m sure you will hate me for this, but I promise you, it’s for the best. You should be with someone who isn’t an obsessed, paranoid, possessive asshole. I hope you know I cherished every moment we spent together. You’re really something special. You will heal and move on and be glad that you didn’t tie yourself to me. Promise. Take care of yourself.

-Hongjoong

Seonghwa called into work that night.

Then he called into work for the rest of the week, until Wooyoung became so concerned that he came by the apartment to make sure Seonghwa was alive. After explaining what happened, Wooyoung was uncharacteristically kind and attentive, nearly protective of him on their shifts together. It was nice. It made Seonghwa almost feel like a person again.

November came and passed and he was completely numb to all of it. All he did was sleep, work, and play Animal Crossing. Yunho felt bad, like it was his fault somehow. Tried to make it up to him in little ways. Made sure he was fed and watered. It wasn’t until after Thanksgiving that he forced him out of the house.

“We’re going to Mingi’s for a late Friendsgiving. Come on. Here,” Yunho tossed him a sweater and some jeans, “Boots and scarf, too, it’s going to snow. I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m serious, Hwa.” He stood in the doorway, ensuring Seonghwa actually got dressed.

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was nice to be around people. Wooyoung and Yeosang were friends with Mingi, apparently, and although he saw them several times per week, it was nice seeing them outside of that context, curled up together on the couch, able to be openly together outside of the bar. Mingi had pulled him into a big bear hug despite them not being very close, and it almost made him cry. He was a good hugger. And it was the first physical affection he’d had in a month. He was sure he looked rough, haggard, face gaunt, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t even been able to call it a breakup this time, but it felt like one. Worse than one.

But being here, with people who cared for him, and good food, sparkling wine, he began feeling some semblance of normality again. They were half an hour into a game of Catan when the doorbell rang, Mingi's black labrador retriever, Chicken, barked at the noise until Mingi opened the door to reveal Jongho and San. How they all knew each other, Seonghwa had no idea. But the two were holding hands and he realized just how silly Hongjoong had been at the party. Jongho seemed just as surprised to see him.

“Oh, hey. Nice to see you again.” He offered, shaking Seonghwa’s hand.

“You, too.” Seonghwa answered, not really knowing if it was truthful or not.

“You look almost as bad as Hongjoong has when he facetimes with me.” Jongho chuckled.

“Oh. You’ve talked to him?” He didn’t know why he was surprised. They were friends, afterall.

“I’ve definitely talked to him. Well, he does most of the talking. He’s being very stupid, though. I keep telling him he was wrong for what he did and he needs to get his shit together and apologize profusely. He has a job offer here, you know. He’s just getting in his own way. I get it, he’s scared. But I still stand by him being very, very stupid.”

“He what?” Seonghwa was confused.

“You didn’t know?” Jongho looked at him sympathetically, “Sorry. Yeah. My company offered him a job. It was part of the reason he came to town. He declined when he fled the scene, but they haven’t stopped pursuing him. He’s like prodogiously good at his job.”

“What the fuck.” Seonghwa felt even more betrayed than ever.

“Yeah. Like I said. Very stupid” Jongho patted his arm, trying to be comforting, but mostly failing.

Seonghwa snuck outside while everyone was distracted by the newcomers and made a phone call. He didn’t know if Hongjoong had him blocked or not because he hadn’t bothered to try to reach out, but he tried anyway. It rang five times before there was an answer.

“Hello?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded groggy but Seonghwa didn’t care enough to think about the time difference then. Fat snowflakes were falling on his face. He let them melt there, not bothering to wipe them away.

“Kim Hongjoong. You fucking coward. You have until New Years before I block you. I’m so fucking mad at you. Don’t make me fly to Sydney, you son of a bitch. Come home. Take the job. That’s a threat. Come home and beg me to take you back before I change my mind on giving you another chance. I want you, you stupid idiot. Grow up. Get it together. Hurry the fuck up and get here.”

“Seonghwa? I-”

“I said hurry the fuck up.” Seonghwa hung up the phone, feeling a little smug as he walked back inside.

It was a beautiful white Christmas morning. Clear and cold, almost two feet of snow on the ground. Seonghwa had spent the whole day before cleaning his depression nest, feeling very confident that Hongjoong would show up any day now. Seonghwa had laid in bed for a while that morning, reading, drinking coffee, and enjoying the sight of snow falling outside the window. There was a knock at his bedroom door. He padded over in his slippers and Christmas tree patterned flannel pajama set to open it.

Hongjoong stood in the doorway, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in his hand, snow-flecked beanie still on his head, nose pink from the cold.

“Oh, hi. Took you long enough.” Seonghwa tried to be stern but couldn't hold back his smile.

“You're happy to see me? You're something else, Park Seonghwa. You should be trying to throttle me right now.” Hongjoong said, a little sheepishly.

“I should, but I'd like to hear you out first. You're too pretty to die young.” Seonghwa moved out of the doorway so he could come inside.

“I, um. Made you something.” Hongjoong handed him the box as they sat side by side on Seonghwa’s bed, “It's not much. But I kinda learned how to crochet while I was gone.”

Seonghwa peeled the tape carefully, not wanting to waste the pretty paper. Inside was a box, which he opened to reveal a crocheted hat. It was soft and pink with floppy bunny ears on top. He loved it.

“For my bunny.” Hongjoong said, giggling as Seonghwa tried it on. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, I love it, Hongjoong. But I hope you don't think this makes up for things.”

“No, no, no. God no. Definitely not.” Hongjoong was practically tripping over his words.

“Well. You're here. I'm all ears,” Seonghwa reached up to the bunny ears on his head, “Quite literally.”

Hongjoong took a steadying breath, “Seonghwa. I'm so fucking sorry. I thought I knew what was best for you. For us. I panicked. I know that you said we could work through it. But I got this notion that I needed to protect you from myself. I don't think I would have been so scared had I not liked you so much. Then you said you were in love with me and I started to spiral.” He reached for Seonghwa's hands, eyes pleading as he continued, “But Seonghwa. You were right. I'm such a coward. I never ever should have run away like that. The fact that you had to be the one to call me and snap me out of it makes me sick. I honestly can't believe you'd even consider giving me another chance. But I had to try. My time here was the highlight of my year. I'm-” His hand reached up to caress Seonghwa's cheek. Seonghwa let him, and he continued, “I'm in love with you. If you'll give me another chance, I intend to prove to you every single day just how true that is. I'll call right now and accept the job. I just want to treat you right. How you deserve. And you deserve the absolute best. I can't promise you that I'll be perfect, but I will promise to always do my best. If you need time to think about it-”

Seonghwa cut him off by kissing him. He didn't need to hear any more. He pulled back before it could get any more intense.

“Sorry. You made me wait almost two whole months to do that.” Seonghwa scolded him, mostly joking, “I don't need time, baby. I want you right now. I'm still so mad at you, but I know you'll make it right. I'm willing to trust you, Hongjoong. Because I'm very much in love with you, too. I want to hear about your stupid history books. I want to help you with your crosswords. I want you to keep tabs on me and I want everyone to know that I belong to you. And I want you to call and accept that job, but first I want to take you right here on this bed until you forget you ever left in the first place.”

“Get over here then.” Hongjoong instructed.

It was just like their first time, Seonghwa underneath Hongjoong, crying out as he neared his release, back arching off the bed as Hongjoong nailed his prostate over and over. He had insisted on keeping the bunny hat on.

“Come on, baby, go ahead. Let go for me, gorgeous.” Hongjoong instructed.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa cried out as he came.

Hongjoong worked him through it, following quickly behind, “Yes, there we go. Fuck. Seonghwa-” He finished inside, Seonghwa loving the feeling of the warmth spreading uncontained deep in his abdomen.

They lay panting together on Seonghwa’s bed, Hongjoong tracing patterns on his back as they recovered.

“What's with the bunny thing, anyway? I mean, I like it, I think it's really cute, actually, but it seems a little random.” Seonghwa inquired.

Hongjoong sat up slightly, “You don't remember?”

Seonghwa shook his head.

“It was the only time you and Yunho convinced me to go to the playground with you on winter break.” He chuckled as he recalled the memory, “I took one hit and was a giggling mess. You guys made fun of me relentlessly. Then we saw a squirrel chase a bunny off, away from his acorns, chattering at it aggressively. I looked at you and said ‘I'm the squirrel.’ You nodded and said, ‘I'm the bunny.’ And then this big golden retriever had gotten loose from his leash and chased them both off and we cracked up, agreeing that that was Yunho.”

“Oh my god, I do remember that! I can't believe I forgot!” Seonghwa sat up to kiss Hongjoong on the nose, “I also can't believe you remembered.”

“I've thought of you as a bunny ever since then.” Hongjoong admitted.

“That's stupid.” Seonghwa squeezed him closer, “And adorable. I love you.”

“I love you, my little bunny.”

New Years Eve was spent at Hongjoong’s new apartment, sort of a combined housewarming party. To everyone's surprise, Yunho and Mingi kissed as the clock struck twelve, far too passionately to just be friendly.

“Are you guys-?” Hongjoong asked them when they finally came up for air.

“Us?” Mingi asked, “Oh! Yeah. For a while now. We just weren't loud about it because of what you and Seonghwa were going through.”

“Huh.” Seonghwa and Hongjoong said in unison.

“Well, um, congrats!” Seonghwa raised his champagne glass.

“Cheers!” Yunho called, “To happy endings and new beginnings.”

“Cheers!” They echoed him.

Later that night, after exploring every viable surface from which to have sex upon in Hongjoong’s new apartment, they lay in bed together, both too excited to sleep yet.

“What do you think about adopting?” Seonghwa asked as he stroked Hongjoong’s back, who was curled into his chest.

“Like… a child?”

Seonghwa snickered at the obvious high pitched inflection his voice had taken as he asked the question, “No, silly. I was thinking a cat. Or maybe a rabbit.”

Hongjoong kissed his chest where he could reach, “A bunny for my bunny. I think that's a great idea.”

They adopted one the next day. Named her Squirrel because they were so funny. Funny, and very, very much in love.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #matz #ateez matz #matz smut #emotional hurt/comfort

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