#my tattoo artist said to let it dry heal and not panic

[atiny-piratequeen]

Character Analysis: Jeong Yunho, ‘Father Earth’

Name: Jeong Yunho

Languages: English, Korean, Gaeilge (Irish), Spanish, French, Dutch, Egyptian (Post Transformation), Arabic (Modern Day), Japanese (Modern Day), Mandarin (Modern Day)

Crew Position: Surgeon/Doctor

Powers: Terrakinesis/Earth (Inherited from Egyptian God, Geb)

Compass Position + Arrowpoint Stone: North Eastern Facing, located on his left hip, Green Zircon

Eye Color: Honey Brown (Natural)/ Ice Blue (Demonic Form)

Hair Color: Brunette (Natural)/ Blonde, Dark Roots (Demonic Form)

Tattoos: A Robin, Cerasee, the Rod of Asclepius, an Amaryllis Blossom, and a Cup of Tea, all across his upper back/shoulder area. 

Likes: Animals, Making Fruit Teas, Tending to Gardens, Reading, Capoeira, Cuddling 

Dislikes: Greedy Doctors, Bitter Food, Neglectful Authority Figures

*The above artist rendition of Geb used courtesy of the game, Smite

Jeong Yunho.

A kind child from a loving family of four guardians. The son of Lloyd, Robin, Valeria, and Mei, Yunho spent his childhood learning how to make tea, gardens, and medicinal salves from plants, all while learning about the human body and the illnesses that plague it. 

His smiling face is a treat for the people in town when he and his parents travel to gather supplies. His kind demeanor and the calm, earthy mixture of floral and fruit scents that cling to him often lead to him being inviting enough to all animals. He can befriend any animal effortlessly, something his mother Valeria often teases lightly about. 

Surgeon Jeong Yunho

Having sought out the man that helped save his loved one, Yunho has dedicated himself to both Captain Hongjoong and the entire Utopia crew. He provides emotional and medical support to everyone in their time of need and his office is often an escape from the hardships that come with being out at sea, all with his serpentine friend Atlas usually wrapped around his neck. 

Yunho may be one of the few men who are fully in touch with their…’other’ selves, and as such, he’s been looking into the true nature of their powers and where they come from. Perhaps the gentlemanly voice in his head can provide some answers…

-Mythology-

Geb, also known as Seb or Keb, is the Egyptian God of the Earth. He is the son of Shu and Tefnut, and his wife is sister Nut, the Goddess of the Sky. Geb and Nut bore four children; Osiris, Isis, Set (Or Seth), and Nephthys. (Though some myths will credit Geb with being the father to the god Horus, as well)

Though his name apparently translates to “weak one”, Geb is highly respected and often seen as one of Egypt’s mightiest gods. A protector and a guide, Geb has had many instances in his lore where he is often the support to an allied god through their own journey. 

Despite being the God of the Earth, Geb also aided the deceased to the afterlife, and would provide them with food along to ease their long journey into the afterlife. Geb’s name is a powerful one, said to be spoken to heal the sick if their affliction was caused by a natural cause such as a cold or a poisonous sting from a scorpion. 

Geb’s laugh is also powerful, said that the sound of his laugh alone can cause earthquakes. The god can have his moments (as most others do), where he will seemingly cause strife for his followers, just because it is within his power to do so. From droughts without warning, to being the reason there is a huge, near uninhabitable desert isolating Egypt from the ancient world, Geb was no stranger to flexing his power and causing hardships. 

Despite this, he had his kinder moments, such as the fertile lands surrounding the Nile River. Just as he would cause a drought without warning, Geb would also bless followers with bountiful harvests, with a surplus to keep their livestock alive and healthy for day to day life. 

In ancient depictions of the two, Geb and his wife, Nut are depicted with him lying below her as she stands above him in the shape of an arc, covering him, but never touching him. Geb is reclining, often with his knee pulled upwards, as a show to represent the intimacy between the earth and sky. His limbs are often metaphors for the valleys, mountains, or hills. 

The most common depiction of Geb himself is that of a dark skinned man with a crown. Sometimes his skin is green. This is to represent the fertile soils of The Nile and growth of crops in the area. He is also often depicted with a goose on his head, as it is his sacred animal. He was also said to be able to transform into other birds, leading to the name “The Great Cackler” (which, given his earthquake laughs, watch out with that one-).

He is also associated with snakes, and less common depictions will have him as part man, part snake. In the Book of the Dead, Geb was credited with giving birth to the serpent Nehebkau.

-Power Applications/ Demon Transformation-

When Yunho unleashes his full power, his dark brunette hair will become mostly blonde. His eyes will go from their honey brown color, to an icy, nearly whitish blue color. A discolored triangle appears over his right eye and his smile is elongated, with earthy, root-like veins appearing around his lips and the edges of the triangular mark. He can see better out of his right eye, as his ‘Demon Self’ can see fully from it and assist during combat. 

With the uniqueness of still being able to communicate with his ‘other’ self, Yunho is attuned to the Earth and uses his full body for combat. He mixes Hapkido learned from mother Mei and Capoirea learned from his father Robin with his plant powers to attack with every part of himself, using his powers for extra attacks, or to keep himself steady as he goes on the offensive. 

Alongside his strong offensive capabilities, Yunho uses his powers for defense, raising thick trees and slabs of earth to block attacks or keep enemies at bay. He also can wrap vines around enemies to crush them, much like a constrictor would do to prey. 

When not in combat, Yunho’s plants have a number of other applications, with the most notable being the ability to grow medicinal and essential plants on the ship for his salves and other medical needs. He can also grow a number of flora for his teas or for Yeosang’s food. 

Plants also have a natural bioluminescence, and the kind doctor often uses his powers to  brighten the normally undetectable light to a degree where they can be used to illuminate his room without the need for lanterns. His plants also have a strong scent, and are used for aromatherapy, thus turning his quarters into a calm room for the crew to freely enter to destress at any time.

Ideally, Yunho fares the best with his powers in an area that is heavily wooded or has little to no man-made structures to keep the destruction levels low. If the area is too dry, on fire, or cold, he has difficulty summoning plants, as they will often be brittle or too weak for attacks, but he can use his more defensive stone-type fighting, or hand to hand to compensate for the potential loss. 

-Character Song Breakdown-

All of the main boys have a song assigned to them in the AtT playlist to go alongside their origin chapters. Yunho’s character song is Voices In My Head by San Holo. I will go over some spoiler things, but if you made it this far, you may know this already.

Unlike some of the other boys’ breakdowns, Yunho’s is rather simple. The song was picked as a hint to the fact that Yunho is the first of the boys to interact with his ‘demon’ self in a manner that wasn’t self-destructive. 

Impressed by his nature and lack of strong negativity within him, his demon self grants him full control of their powers and as a result of their mutual understanding, he’s actually stuck around instead of being ‘overcome’ by Yunho taking control. As a result, he is one of the only boys that has the ability to still hear the previous embodiment of his powers. Ever since he realized his transformation and relationship with his ‘demon’ self were different from the others, he’s been trying to dissect why exactly he was different from the others and provide aid to the other boys.  

He can hear the voice in his head. Get it? 

-I've got voices in my head

What to say when all is said?

I'm still try to understand

Sometimes words don't just make sense

-You've got voices in your head

What to say when all is said?

When you try to understand

But my words just don't make sense

-I say, "Don't make my heart ache

Don't make my heart ache now"

I say, "Don't make my heart ache

We'll find a way somehow"

-Character Blurb-

“Breathe.”

“I am, Yunho-”

“No. You’re not. Look at me.” 

Yeosang held his head and shook as Yunho lifted his chin, frowning at the tears running down the smaller pirate’s face. He was headed to the galley when he found him crying, curled up on the floor, in the middle of a panic attack. He wiped his cheeks and picked him up, barely flinching as Yeosang clung to his form, biting his lip hard. 

The walk to his room was quiet as Yeosang cried. Yunho set him down in his lap, thumbing away more of his tears before he looked him in the eyes. 

“Tell me what happened.”

“I had a dream about her and...and…” 

“Say no more. Come here.” He pulled Yeosang against his chest and hummed a low tune, rocking Yeosang as he shook. As he hummed, he raised a few plants to his bedside, the vines embracing the wood of his ceiling, drooping down to bathe the two in a gentle glow as the now-neon blooms let out a collection of scents that made Yeosang’s shoulders relax. 

The gentle scent soothed him and after another half an hour he smiled and wiped his eyes, kissing the underside of Yunho’s jaw. 

“Thanks, puppy.”

Yunho grinned and pulled him back against his chest, moving to lay down with Yeosang still by his side. 

“No worries. I’ll protect you, okay? Rest easy, she can’t hurt you.” 

Yunho wrapped his long limbs around the smaller pirate, nuzzling his soft hair as he exhaled gently, the earthy scent of the room relaxing both of them.

-M.List-

#fie writes #against the tide #att character analysis #jeong yunho #Yunho

[sunflower-swan]

Wolfstar Chapter 10

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus Covid-19.

This is chapter 10 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 10 Prompt: Bunnies

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1542

Tags: language, angst, fluff, original character

Chapter 10

Sirius

Panic! At The Disco, “Mad as Rabbits”

Come save me from walking off a windowsill

Or I'll sleep in the rain.

Don't you remember when I was a bird

And you were a map?

Sirius hurt. It felt like there was a hole in his chest where his heart had been. He went with Remus to the Tattoo Lounge because it was better than drinking himself into a pickle at home alone. In truth, he was quite thankful for Remus. The day ended much better than it began, which wasn’t saying much considering how the day started. But Sirius would take any improvement at the moment.

He found he enjoyed watching Remus run his shop. Lily had taken a few messages for him in his absence, so he rang those people first. After that he had a steady stream of customers the rest of the day. Some by appointment and some by walk-in. A few were consultations, and Sirius was impressed by his friend’s compassion and professionalism. In the lull between customers Remus and Sirius would chat, or sometimes they would sit in comfortable silence and Sirius would watch Remus sketch.

One woman had an appointment for her very first tattoo. Sirius remembered being nervous when he got his first ink, but this woman seemed over the moon excited. She brought a friend with her. The friend waited on the leather couch that sat back in the tattooing area of the shop while Remus discussed tattoo plans with the woman. In the end they developed a plan for a half sleeve involving a Mammoth Sunflower, a few common daisy blossoms, and a Monarch butterfly. The sketch Remus created was beyond beautiful. Even though this would be the first of at least three sittings, Sirius was sure the end result would look so realistic, one would expect the butterfly to flap its wings and fly away.

Remus took a break mid-day and explained, “People are looking for more than a tattoo. They’re looking for an experience. The customers I like to work with are looking for a one-of-a-kind piece of art to display on their body. Every piece I do is an extension of myself. And these people walk around the world with it for the rest of their life.”

Wow. Sirius placed his right hand over the rose tattoo. There was not another exactly like it in the whole world. For the first time in many days, he felt a tiny light flicker inside him. A tiny light of hope that told him he would make it through the pain and heartache in which he had been absorbed.

Later on around mid-afternoon, Sirius and Remus were chatting about nothing in particular while Remus cleaned up his equipment from a walk-in. The walk-in had requested a geometric mandala design between his shoulder blades. It wasn’t Sirius’ style, but the man had seemed pleased with it. Then the bell over the door dinged, and in sauntered Logan. Sirius was beside himself, giddy with excitement to watch him interact with Remus. He tried the best he could to blend in with the wall, and watch the show.

When the door opened, Remus looked up from his cleaning. His expression turned to one of surprise to see Logan moving stealthily toward him. Logan didn’t even notice Sirius sitting in the corner. From the moment he walked in, he only had eyes for Remus.

“Hey, Remus,” Logan said.

Remus blushed. “Uh, hey, Logan.” He nervously wiped his hands on his trousers.

“You never called me.” Logan was within arm's distance of Remus now, and he stopped.

“Erm…” Remus scratched the back of his head. “No...I guess I didn’t. No that, um...not that I didn’t want to, but…”

He’s so awkward! Sirius thought to himself. He’d never seen Remus so flustered. It was kind of adorable.

“It’s ok,” Logan said with a chuckle. “I am still interested in a tattoo though.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Right! Yeah, of course,” Remus said. “Just uh…” He cleared a space for them to sit, and grabbed his sketchbook and a pencil. “Here, have a seat.”

They took a seat on the leather couch. Sirius was covertly pretending to flip through a magazine in the far corner, and was therefore too far away to make out much of their conversation. But he could see, and that was enough. Logan was so obviously flirty.

He started off on the opposite side of the couch from Remus. But after about fifteen minutes or so, he had slowly worked his way closer to Remus. Then there was the way he kept brushing his hair back. And any excuse to touch Remus: his shoulder, his elbow, his knee...Godric, this guy was a bit much.

Logan was throwing everything he had at Remus, but Remus seemed oblivious. Remus maintained an air of professionalism throughout the entire consultation. Sirius was surprised Logan hadn’t jumped into Remus’ lap by the end. It was about the only thing he hadn’t done to get Remus’ attention. There is such a thing as coming on too strong, but this Logan fella never got that hint.

Finally Logan cleared out, and Remus approached Sirius. “Do you trust me?” he asked. He was holding a sketchbook to his chest, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.” Sirius didn’t need to think twice.

“Come over here.” Remus motioned with his hand and walked toward the chairs. “Pull up your right pant leg, and lay down on your stomach.”

“Excuse me?” Sirius laughed and put his hands on his hips. “What is happening now?”

Remus tapped his foot and repeated himself, “Pull up your right pant leg, and lay down on your stomach.” He gestured toward the padded bench. “You said you trusted me, right?” He tilted his head down with a smirk.

Why do I feel like I might regret this? Sirius asked himself as he did as Remus directed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what you’ve decided needs to be permanently marked on my body.”

“Nope.”

Brilliant.

A couple silent hours later, Remus announced he was done. “Before you look at it, I want to tell you something.” He came around and crouched down in front of Sirius and looked him dead in the eyes. The intensity Sirius saw there was intimidating, but he did not break eye contact. “What you have gone through, and what you have yet to go through, is really hard. This is just a stumble in your road, it’s not the end of your journey. Haruki Murakami once said, ‘Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal. But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.’ I hope this piece can be the beginning of your healing.”

Sirius's mouth had gone dry. The tiny light grew a little brighter. He twisted to look at his calf. Is that a fucking bunny? “Is that a fucking bunny?!” Oops, I said that out loud. “A bunny and a...crescent moon? Why?”

“Calm down, shut up, and listen.”

I’ll shut up and listen, but that doesn’t mean I’ll calm down. Sirius fixed Remus with a stare and tried to convey a hurry-up-before-I-lose-it expression.

“What do you know about rabbit spirit animals?”

“Remus, my animagus is a dog...why would I care about a rabbit spirit animal?”

“A rabbit spirit animal symbolizes a person who has no problem expressing happiness and affection when it comes to people they love. You have so much love in your heart Sirius, that is why it hurts so much right now. Your animagus form may be a dog, but I think that dog’s spirit animal is a rabbit.”

Sirius mulled Remus’ words over in his head. No problem expressing happiness and affection to people I love. It hurts so much, because I love so much? No...because I have so much love to give. I give my love freely. Too freely? No...the people I love deserve my love. But why does it have to hurt so much? Kind of ironic that a dog’s spirit animal would be a rabbit since the two are natural enemies.

“Ok, then what about the crescent moon?” he asked. That bit didn’t really make sense.

“Well,” Remus said, “the rabbit is an animal of the moon. And I thought it looked cool.”

It was a cool design now that he looked more closely. A tribal hare, rearing on it’s back legs. It sort of looked like it was playing with the crescent moon. Why did Remus not quite meet his eyes with that explanation though?

“You can stay here tonight, if you want.” Remus offered, disrupting his thoughts. “I just mean...on your own didn’t pan out so well...you’re always welcome here anytime…” His sentence sort of wandered off after that.

“Um…” Sirius knew he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts tonight. He had tried being alone the past few days, and look where it landed him. He also didn’t want to be a burden on his best friend. He also remembered with vivid clarity that Remus walks around in his boxers in the morning.

“Let’s at least get a bite from Potter’s,” Remus said, “I’m starving. Then you can decide what you want to do.” Remus swished his wand and his equipment flew back to their respective shelves. He cast a disinfecting Scourgify and turned to Sirius with a smile.

Next Chapter: Chapter 11

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #mauraders #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #slow burn #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic

[aquaminwrites]

Skin Deep: 09

Pairing: Yoongi x Tattoo Artist!Reader (M/F) Genre: Friends to lovers, slow burn. Smut. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe!) Word Count: 9K

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (links removed due to tumblr issue)

A/N: SMUT, FINALLY! The next chapter is the end. Thank you for your patience with this one, it took longer to write than I expected. Let me know what you think! Also, pardon any mistakes, I tried by best while editing. Enjoy!

“This can only end badly.”

“Yoongi, I trust you.”

“Are you sure? Because this seems like a not-so-great idea.”

“Yoongi. I trust you.”

“What if I fuck it up? And then it’s on you forever? How am I supposed to forgive myself if I—”

“Yoongi.”

His eyes finally fall on you, wide with panic. You slip your arms around your boyfriend’s waist, palms gently rubbing against the bare skin of his lower back under his shirt. You’re smiling that insolent grin as you look up at him, a slight shake to your head as you chuckle.

“Baby, I trust you. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t. Besides, you told me the other day that you wanted to try tattooing.”

Yoongi huffs, arms circling you out of habit. “Yeah, but I meant like…on a grapefruit. Or synthetic skin. When you said I could try, I didn’t think you meant on you.”

You shake your head with a laugh, unlatching yourself from his body and dragging him towards your station. Tonight was supposed to be yours and Yoongi’s date night—the original plan was to go out to dinner, nothing too fancy, and maybe go see a movie. But your appointment today had gone late, and so the plans had to change.

Yoongi shakes his head, wondering how it is that you can be so flippant about marking up your skin, especially on a whim by someone who isn’t even a professional. But then again, that’s part of the reason he likes you so much. You’re his opposite, in a lot of ways. More outspoken, more outgoing, better looking—even though you vehemently disagree, if only to get him to blush.

He also finds, over dating you for the last month and a half, that he can’t say no to you. And so he doesn’t.

He has to admit that he’s been pretty excited about the idea of trying out tattooing, even if it’s just once. He knows he doesn’t have the skill set or the hand-eye coordination to be any good, but he can’t help but be fascinated by it, especially when you start to speak so passionately on the subject.

Yoongi remembers how he was all those months ago, how disgusted he had been when Jungkook told him that he’d made a tattoo appointment with an artist he’d never heard of before. And now he can’t picture himself without you beside him, especially now that the two of you have officially started dating.

Yoongi has been true to his word, allowing you the time and space you needed and trying not to rush you into anything you weren’t ready for. The two of you have kissed, and have come dangerously close on more than one occasion to stepping over that line and just getting lost in one another, but it hasn’t happened just yet.

Not that either of you don’t want to. Yoongi can see it in the way your gaze lingers just a touch too long—especially recently. The tension grows thicker and thicker every day, to the point where just being able to touch you or hold you has the blood stirring between Yoongi’s legs. He has to try extra hard to keep himself calm, which is no easy feat when he catches you staring at him and biting your lip.

Your station is already fully set up and ready to go, the small stencil of a music note—an eighth note, to be exact—prepped on the countertop. You take a seat in the client’s chair, placing your wrist on the flat armrest that is wrapped with plastic and a medical bib. You point at the box of black latex gloves and beam at him.

“Go on. You remember how to stencil, right?”

Yoongi lets out a whine, but sits down in the artist’s chair anyway. He snaps on the gloves and then makes sure to follow all the steps as you guide him through the process—wipe the skin with alcohol first to disinfect, apply a thin layer of the stencil gel, and then place the stencil very, very carefully.

You decide to get a music note at the base of your wrist because Yoongi is a musician and you find his passion for his art inspiring and definitely something to emulate. When you’d told Yoongi about the tattoo you wanted him to do for you, he’d sputtered in protest.

“Isn’t it bad luck to get a tattoo for your significant other? And isn’t that like…the one thing that everyone says not to do when getting tattooed?”

You shrug, obviously nonplussed. “I have a full sleeve, neck piece, and an unfinished back all done by my ex-fiancé. I clearly do not care.” Your smile turns coy, and you scoot closer to Yoongi on the couch, walking your fingers up his chest as you press light, teasing kisses to his jawline. “Besides…what if I want you to mark me up, baby?”

Yoongi wonders if he should keep a tally of how many cold showers he’s had to take in the last month.

Peeling away the now-damp stencil paper, thanks to the wetness of the gel, Yoongi puts it aside and looks up at you with apprehensive eyes as you examine the placement.

“Is it okay?”

You reward him with a kiss on the forehead. “It’s perfect.”

“Perfect,” Yoongi repeats, sounding somewhat sarcastic as he eyes your hot pink rotary as if it’s grown a set of horns and rows upon rows of sharp, blade-like teeth. You’ve set everything up for him, so all he needs to do is pick up the machine and give it the old college try.

Yoongi flexes his fingers slightly before he goes to pick the damn thing up, and he’s suddenly reminded of the first time he’d ever had sex.

“Why do I feel like a virgin all over again?” He grumbles, wetting a piece of paper towel with a mixture of soap and water.

You can’t help but laugh at that, reaching up to brush some of the fringe away from his eyes. “Because you’re doing something nerve-wracking for the first time. Don’t worry, you’re gonna do great.”

Yoongi huffs out a breath, and tries to get himself into the zone. He grips the machine and dips the tip of the needle into the ink cap, making sure to check if the stencil is dry before going in. He feels you watching him intently, making sure he does everything right and in the proper order as his foot hits the pedal to run the machine. The familiar buzzing fills his ears and he tries to control the way his hand shakes as he goes in for the first line.

The tattoo itself is tiny, barely larger than one square centimetre. But to Yoongi, it might as well be the size of an entire bodysuit with how nervous he is and with how much sweat is gathering at his brow. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you scrunch up your nose in a wince, and he immediately moves the needle away.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Did I fuck up? Are you hurt? Jesus, I—”

“Yoongi!” You’re laughing now, and you use your free hand to pull him in for a quick kiss. “It’s a tattoo. It’s meant to hurt. And the wrist is never a fun spot to get tattooed anyway, all the muscles and tendons and stuff. I’m fine, I promise. Plus, you’re almost done, you just need to fill in that little part there, on the tail of the note. There you go, now give it a wipe and see if any spots need touching up…”

Yoongi diligently wipes the excess ink off your skin and you take your wrist back, holding it close to your face with a scrutinizing brow to check for any major fuck-ups. His face is still tense as you move it away, but finally relaxes when he sees you smiling from ear to ear. You reach out and cup his face, kissing both his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then his mouth.

“It’s perfect,” you grin against his lips. “Thank you.”

He helps you bandage up the tattoo, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline. You show him this new product you got in the mail as a sample, a clear adhesive bandage called Second Skin that you place over top of the tattoo. Reading off the instructions on the back, you gather that it’s meant to maintain a wet heal rather than a regular dry heal like you normally do—the benefit being that you don’t have to worry about the traditional healing process. You figure that since the piece is small, it’ll be a good way to test out the product before selling it to your clients.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Yoongi notices, checking his phone once everything has been torn down and properly sanitized. You’re both standing in the lobby of the studio, leaning against the front desk. “Did you still want to grab dinner somewhere?”

You’re checking your phone as well, frowning slightly as you browse through the restaurants in the area. “Hmm. Why don’t you just come over to my place for dinner? I think I have some stuff in the fridge, I can cook something.”

Yoongi can’t help but raise an eyebrow. In the time that you two have officially been dating, he still hasn’t been over to your apartment. It seems almost monumental, like you’re taking the next step forward in your relationship. He tries to sound casual, though he probably fails, as he replies, “Yeah, sure. You know, uh, I can cook too, if you need any help with anything.”

“And you cook?” You tease, arms looping around his middle. “My boyfriend is such a catch.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “You know, we would get a lot more done if you just stopped flirting with me all the time.”

You detach yourself from him, shooting him a wink from over your shoulder as you gather your things, knowing full well that Min Yoongi requires you to flirt with him at least once a day or he’ll die. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and sighs fondly, shrugging on his leather jacket over his oversized zip-up hoodie. “You’re going to be the death of me, babe.”

—

The bus ride to your apartment is thick with a tension that Yoongi doesn’t want to name. He looks over at you, staring contentedly out the window, your fingers interlaced with his. He can’t help but smile at the sight, and when you catch him staring, you simply give his hand a squeeze and adjust to lean your head against his shoulder.

When you unlock the main door and Yoongi steps over the threshold, he realizes that this is the first time he’s ever set foot into your building. You lead him silently to the elevator, and press the number for the 8th floor. By the time you actually reach your apartment, Yoongi is sure he’s scratched a bald spot behind his ear out of anxiety.

You lead him inside, and can’t help but giggle at the sight of him taking everything in.

“Wow,” he manages, eyes roaming everywhere as you flick on all the lights. “Your apartment is way nicer than mine.”

“Hey,” you protest. “I like your apartment.”

“But we could have spent so much time hanging out here,” Yoongi pretends to whine, spinning in a circle with his arms outstretched as you roll your eyes and wander into the kitchen.

Your apartment is much more modern, being in a newer building than Yoongi’s. The front door opens to an open concept living room and kitchen, with a marble-top island opposite the sink for more counter space. A modern looking couch faces a large television on the other end of the room, and also serves to further separate the two areas.

The living room itself is cozy and can only be described as an extension of your shop. The walls are painted a dark wine berry, and white Christmas lights have been hung all around the perimeter of the room. It brings out the warmth in the colour of the paint, and immediately has Yoongi feeling nostalgic. For what, he can’t quite place.

Framed art lines the walls—some odd vintage posters of palm readings and human anatomy, as well as art prints signed by names that Yoongi identifies as tattoo artists that you admire. He’s just dodging around the coffee table to look at your shelf of oddities when you call to him from the kitchen.

“Want some wine? I have a pinot noir. Not that I know what that means, but it’s red.”

Yoongi can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes. “Yeah. Sure.”

He hears you pouring two glasses as he goes back to examining your things. You appear behind him and offer him the wine, which he swirls around for a second before taking a long, drawn out sip. He pretends not to notice as your eyes trail down to his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I never asked you where you find these things,” Yoongi mentions, gesturing to the animal skull taxidermy. “Do you just buy them online, or…?”

You chuckle, sipping at your own glass. Your cheeks are already beginning to go red, something that Yoongi has discovered only happens when you drink wine. “At tattoo conventions, actually. One of the vendors is a good friend of mine, and all his stuff is ethically sourced. He’s reliable, and I wouldn’t buy from anyone else.”

Yoongi nods and returns to looking at all the little gadgets and odds and ends that you’ve collected over the years. There’s a vintage book on tattooing, a few very old looking Polaroid cameras, a pocket watch, quartz crystals, and a few framed photos.

One is of you with your parents, looking like it’s from a birthday a few years ago, judging by the fact that your tattoos are incomplete and your hair is a lot shorter. Another one is of you and Junghyun, dressed in your graduation robes, both of you smiling from ear to ear with your degrees in hand.

The last photo that you have framed on your shelf is one that Yoongi isn’t expecting to see. It’s of the two of you. The photo is black and white and a little grainy, and he can instantly tell from the style of the photograph that it was taken by Taehyung. It’s from your first date, that night the two of you ran into Jimin and Taehyung at the carnival. You’re sitting at the picnic bench, looking bashfully down at your lap as Yoongi leans into you, a smile reaching all the way up to his eyes as he regards you as if you created every galaxy in the universe.

You steal Yoongi’s empty wine glass and place it, along with your own, onto the coffee table. He feels you wrap your arms around his middle from behind, noticing when you place a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

His hands come to cover your own. “I didn’t know Tae had this film developed yet.”

You rise onto your tip toes and place your chin on his shoulder. “I asked him if he could show me before he shows you.”

Yoongi snorts. “Traitor.” After a pause, he adds, “Kind of surprised you don’t still have a photo of Namjoon up or something.”

You frown, dropping your arms from around his waist to hold his hand properly. You rub your free palm along his forearm in gentle, comforting circles. You and Namjoon had decided to rekindle your friendship, and things are going surprisingly well. He still gives you some distance, which you appreciate, but you can tell that Yoongi is still a little jealous when you meet up with him for coffee or to catch up. You reassure him every time that there’s nothing there between you and your ex, but you also know that he can’t help but worry.

“Why would I have photos of Joon up in my apartment?” You ask him with a quiet melancholy. You hate seeing Yoongi even a little bit upset, and you can tell right now that he’s got a whole mess of emotions swimming around in his head right now. “He doesn’t make me happy. You do. You’re the one that makes my heart race, and you’re the one that makes me smile every day. It’s you, Yoongi. And you’re all I need.”

Maybe it’s your words. Maybe it’s the wine. But when Yoongi turns to look at you, and it’s not like he’s seeing you for the first time—it’s like he can’t imagine his life before you. It’s just as you said all those months ago. His eyes roam over your face, taking everything in that has become so familiar to him, memorizing every detail that he already knows by heart: the slope of your nose, the way your eyelashes fan across your cheek every time you blink up at him full of wonder, the way your lips gently part as you inch closer and closer…

Yoongi loves you. He loves you.

He doesn’t remember exactly when he knew, but seeing you now, looking up at him like he’s the only truth you’ve ever known, it overwhelms him and grips his heart so strongly that he fears it might burst forth from his chest. He finds himself pulled into your orbit, every thought in his brain circling on you, you, you, until he grows dizzy with want.

His warm palm comes to caress the side of your face, his thumb gently running across the smoothness of your cheek bone. He has so much he wants to say, three little words dancing on the tip of his tongue. But instead, his other hand presses against your lower back and draws you to him, your tiny intake of breath causing him to quirk up his lips in the tiniest grin. And when his lips meet yours, the universe slots back into place.

This kiss is pure fire—nothing but heat and an overwhelming sensation that threatens to consume you both in your entirety. Yoongi’s tongue slips into your mouth and he moans as you open up for him, fingers tangling in his hair, your body staying flush against him.

“Yoongi,” you gasp as his lips trail down to your neck, biting and sucking a path as he goes. “I want you so bad. Please.”

“Oh?” He can’t help but tease, grinding his hips into yours as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “What do you want me to do to you, kitten?”

You suck in the tiniest breath at the mention of the pet name, your eyes searching his. After a beat, you rise up, bringing him back in for a kiss. You tug on his lower lip just a little with your teeth as you pull away, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I want you inside of me. Please Yoongi, please…”

Yoongi stares down at you with hungry eyes, and then suddenly you’re yelping as he’s hoisting you up. Your legs are around his waist as he moves faster than you’ve ever seen him in the direction of your room. You swear you hear him mutter, “Well, twist my arm,” as he practically kicks down your bedroom door.

You giggle into his shoulder, nipping at the pale skin at the base of his neck. You feel him swallow against your lips, and then suddenly your back is bouncing against your mattress, and Yoongi’s body is covering yours.

His hands are everywhere, tugging your shirt overhead and attacking zipper on your jeans. You’re no better. You push his hoodie off his shoulders, sliding your palms under his shirt and along his back. You lift it off, bringing him back down for a kiss, and Yoongi groans as you part your thighs for him, clad only in your bra and panties. His mouth is on yours again in a second, and he takes in a sharp inhale as you arch your back to grind against his growing bulge from below.

“You still have your pants on,” you whine, your hands wandering down to his fly. The amount of wiggling has Yoongi’s pants growing even tighter and he lifts himself off of you, standing up so that he can shuck off his jeans as quickly as possible.

He swears he only looks away for a second as the denim bunches around his ankles, but when he looks up, you’re sitting up on your heels, gazing at him as he stands in only his tented boxers with heated cheeks and a look that he can only describe as wonder. He offers you a small smile, knowing that he’s got the exact same expression on his face.

It’s then that Yoongi notices the tattoo that decorates your sternum and part of your stomach, just below the line of your bra. It’s a mandala done in dot work, framing the curve of your breasts and coming down to a point a few inches above your navel. Yoongi can’t help but stare, never having seen you without a shirt on before, before returning to your eyes. He watches as you take in a deep, shaky breath, and then your hands move to your back to unhook your bra. You let it fall away, and Yoongi can’t help the curse that escapes.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, crawling back over you and kissing you deeply.

He uses one arm to prop himself up at the elbow, his free hand running up along the side of your body until he’s cupping your breast. His thumb flicks over your hardened nipple, tongues dancing together as you moan into his mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” Yoongi pants as he moves his thumb to hook the lacy band of your panties. “Please, Y/N, let me taste you.”

He can’t help but think of how cute you are as your eyes widen slightly, biting at your lower lip. You can only give him a tiny nod, and he kisses you once, twice, three times before trailing south. Yoongi takes his time with you, pulling dark bruises with his lips and teeth along the sensitive skin of your neck and chest, stopping along the way to lavish attention onto your breasts and nipples.

Your fingers thread through his hair and he welcomes the way your nails drag along his scalp. He especially loves the tiny tugs when his mouth encloses on your nipple and he starts to suck—your back arches off the bed and he slides his hands underneath you so that he can press you more firmly against him. He moves to the other one, making sure to tease you with his teeth and you gasp, tugging at his roots desperately.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he growls lightly, his tongue dipping in the valley between your breasts, the tip trailing down to trace along the patterns inked into your skin. The kisses he places along your sternum and your stomach are wet, messy, and loud, causing the tiny hairs on your arms to stand up straight. Your thighs are practically flat against the bed, that’s how open and ready you are for him.

It takes what feels like an eternity before Yoongi finally makes it to your clothed centre, and he can see plain as day how soaked you are.

Yoongi runs his tongue along your clothed slit, and you yelp, your thighs snapping halfway shut at the sensation. Your hands fly up to cover your face, and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“You’re shy,” he goads, kissing along your inner thighs as he presses them back down against the bed. “I can’t believe that you, Y/N, someone who lives her life out loud and always has something to say, is getting shy in bed.”

Your hands don’t shift from your face as you mumble, “You make me nervous.”

Yoongi immediately rises and crawls back up to meet your eyes, softly grasping your wrists to get them to move. When he finally gets you to look at him with gentle prodding, he tells you, “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. It’s okay.”

“It’s not that,” you promise, cupping his face with your hands. “I just…can’t believe this is finally happening, that’s all. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year so I’m just…it’s been a while.”

Yoongi winks and begins to scoot back down between your thighs. “Guess I’ll just have to ease you back into it then, huh?”

You bite your lip in anticipation, and watch as he slides your panties down your legs and discards them on the floor. “Please do.”

Yoongi’s thumbs massage small circles against your inner thighs as he takes in the sight of you bare before him. Your pussy is glistening with wetness, and Yoongi can’t help himself.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises before dives in, tongue lapping at your folds as your fingers tangle themselves into his hair again. His large, warm palms flatten your thighs to the bed, pinning you down so you’re unable to move. You cry out as his tongue enters you, the wet, messy sounds coming from his sinful mouth spurring you closer to the edge already.

Yoongi can already feel you starting to clench, so he moves to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue, one of his fingers slowly pushing its way into you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls. You learn very, very quickly that Yoongi has a filthy mouth. And you fucking love it—especially when it latches itself to your most sensitive areas. “I want you to come, baby. Want you to come all over my face and on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second finger, allowing them both to curl against the roof of your pussy.

His fingers massage along your walls in search of something, and you feel Yoongi smiling against your mons as he finds it; that rough patch of skin that brings you such deep pleasure. You let out a cry that somewhat resembles his name as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you at a fast, rough pace. His mouth latches onto your clit as he switches between quick, light flicks of his tongue and harder sucks, whatever it takes to get you to writhe beneath him.

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself teetering close to the edge, your fingers gripping his hair, and his free arm thrown over your hips to keep you from bucking too hard. Yoongi can feel the fluttering sensation as it starts, and he grins up at you with insolent eyes.

“You gonna come, baby? You gonna be a good girl and come for me while I finger fuck you?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, trying your best to keep your eyes on him. “Yoongi, I’m gonna come, ‘m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he breathes against your wetness, pumping his fingers even faster. “Come now.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, Yoongi sucks on your clit, hard. You scream and feel the flood gates burst open, your back arching clear off the bed. You swear you must have ripped a chunk of hair from Yoongi’s scalp, but he’s too preoccupied with prolonging your pleasure for as long as he possibly can. His fingers still work you through your orgasm, and Yoongi delightedly laps up all of your juices until the sensation of his mouth against your sex borders on overstimulation.

He rises from your dripping cunt and makes a show of licking his fingers clean, taking extra time to clean the web between his fingers with his long, agile tongue as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. His lips and chin glisten with your come, and you can’t say that you mind when he draws you close and kisses you, the taste of your orgasm still tinting the flavour of his mouth.

“Baby,” you say between kisses, breathless and barely sated. “Take off your boxers. Please. I need you inside of me.”

“Okay, let me just go grab a condom from my wallet—”

Yoongi moves to lift himself off of you when you place your hands on his shoulders, his gaze returning to yours. “Are you clean?”

His mouth gapes at the question, at the implication of your words, and once he’s processed the question, he nods furiously. “I got tested when we started dating. I’m clean.”

You blush. “Yeah. I did too, clean as well. So…if it’s okay with you…are we good?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, we’re good. We’re so fucking good.”

It takes Yoongi about 0.02 seconds after that to basically rip off his boxers, his cock standing hard and proud as he moves once more between your thighs.

You hum quietly as you reach down to take him in your hand, pumping his shaft steadily. “Not gonna let me return the favour?”

“Later,” he chokes out, eyes squeezing shut for a second at just the feeling of your hand stroking him. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

Yoongi positions himself on top of you, keeping his body completely flush against yours. The tips of your noses are touching and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest as the underside of his cock glides against your clit. It causes you to shiver, palms against his lower back. He reaches down and positions himself at your entrance, the head of his girth pushing just past the lips of your pussy.

“F-fuck,” he pants, adding more pressure. He watches your face intently, making sure to stop every time you wince, assuring you that you’re amazing and that you’re taking him so well. He continues to push until he’s fully sheathed inside. a low groan escaping his throat as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. The two of you fit together so perfectly, like you were made for each other. “Full disclosure,” he admits, sounding a little ashamed. “I’m definitely not going to last.”

“Me neither,” you agree, turning to press a kiss to the shell of his ear. “We have forever to beat tonight’s record, though.”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh against your skin before pulling nearly all the way out and then sensually rolling his hips until they smack against yours. He fucks you slow but hard, each thrust carrying the weight of an untold confessions that he’s barely keeping at bay. Your body is just too warm, too tight, too perfect, and the sounds you’re making are enough to drive him mad.

You raise your hips slightly to meet him for every thrust, his pace starting to quicken. The bed frame creaks, the headboard starting to smack against the wall as Yoongi pounds you into the mattress.

He can’t believe this is really happening. The way you squeak out his name as he makes love to you is the only thing truly keeping him grounded. Yoongi is convinced he’s dreaming, because there’s no way he’s inside of you right now, no way he’s in your room, in your bed, kissing your lips, drawing these lewd whimpers from your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight and wet, how are you real?” Yoongi asks himself more than you, clinging to the last shreds of his sanity as you moan and keen beneath him.

“Yoongi,” you gasp after a particularly hard thrust. You cup his face with your hands so that he’s looking at you, his ministrations turning shallow as you demand all of his attention. You’re smiling up at him, face and chest flushed and coated in a thin sheen of sweat, hair mussed and tangled, but Yoongi can’t help but think you’ve never looked more beautiful. It’s as this thought loops in his head that your thumb brushes along the curve of his cheekbone and you say, “Yoongi, I love you.”

Yoongi freezes, eyes wide, heart pounding in his ears. How long had he been dreaming that you would say those words to him? How many times did he have those same words loaded up at the tip of his tongue?

He can’t tear his gaze from yours. “Say it again.”

You smile up at him, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Min Yoongi.”

His hips start to move again, and you suck in a shallow breath as the head of his cock drags along your g-spot. “Again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, voice light and dripping with need as he braces his knees against the mattress and starts fucking you with purpose.

Yoongi can feel himself getting close. Your cunt is just too good, too tight, and every time he’s buried deep inside of you, it feels like home. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you, to stay joined with you like this until every star in the universe burns itself out. He feels your nails scratching along his back as your moans get louder and louder, your walls clenching around his cock like a vice.

“I’m close,” Yoongi warns, kissing and sucking the most sensitive spot on your neck. “Want you to come with me.” He reaches between the two of you and you almost jump when you feel the rough pads of his fingers rubbing against your clit.

“Yoongi, oh my god,” you cry as the combination of his cock stretching you to your limit and the insistent stimulation on your sensitive nub has you hurtling towards another orgasm. You’re right there, you’re so close, so close, as you feel your walls starting to flutter more intensely.

“‘M gonna come,” Yoongi grunts, his voice deep and hoarse with lust. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. “Where do you want it?”

“Come in me,” you whisper against his lips. “I’m on the pill, it’s okay. Please, fill me, I need all of you.”

Yoongi lets out an audible groan and then he’s kissing you, his tongue taking control easily as he fucks you deep and hard while adding more speed and pressure to your clit. You come with a muffled scream, harder than you ever have before, whimpering and keening at the aftershocks. Yoongi chokes out your name before delivering three punishing thrusts, stapling you to the mattress as he comes with a roar, filling you to the brim.

The room is quiet except for the sound of the two of you panting, the room smelling of sweat and sex. It is perfection.

Yoongi collects you in his arms, his softening cock slipping out of you. His come dribbles out of your abused pussy and trickles down your inner thighs, but you can’t find it in you to care. He rolls over onto his side and tugs you flush against him, and you find that the two of you slot together perfectly—like two pieces of a puzzle.

He cradles your face in one of his hands, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. You’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment, cheeks red from exertion, lips kiss-swollen and your eyes so full of love, love for him. Yoongi can’t wipe the smile off his face as he draws you in, and against your lips, finally says what he’s been keeping at bay since the two of you met up at that coffee shop months ago.

“I love you too.”

When he pulls away, he’s a little shocked to see tears welling up in your eyes. He starts to think that maybe he’s done something wrong when you lift your hand to cover his. “Really?”

Yoongi relaxes and kisses away the stray tear that rolls onto the bridge of your nose.

“Of course I do, Y/N. I love you. So fucking much.”

You sniffle loudly and throw your arms around him in a hug, and Yoongi just holds you as your breath hitches in your chest.

“I’m glad you got to experience it at last, Yoongi,” you murmur, and Yoongi is immediately reminded of the conversation the two of you had in the coffee shop. “And…selfishly, I’m glad that it’s with me.”

“There’s only you,” he promises, rubbing comforting circles against your spine as the two of you lie there together. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He feels you press a soft, barely-there kiss to the underside of his jaw, the simple gesture making his heart race all over again. Without hesitation, you reply, “You too.”

—

The two of you remain like that for what seems like forever, the afterglow too precious to disrupt. It’s only when your stomach growls loudly that the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, breaking apart and sitting up. You can’t help but laugh at the damage your questing fingers did to Yoongi’s hair. It’s sticking up at odd angles, some parts completely erect while others stick out at the sides. You try your best to fix it as he pouts at you before you grab his hoodie off the floor and zip it up high enough to cover your breasts, keeping it low enough to tempt Yoongi just a little bit.

“We never got to make dinner,” you muse as you amble over to your dresser to find a new set of panties. You purposely choose a dark red lace number and make a show of putting it on. You stand at your full height and look at Yoongi over your shoulder. His mouth is wide open and his expression looks as if Nessie had emerged from Loch Ness, fist-bumped him, and then asked for a selfie.

You wander to the bathroom to get cleaned up while Yoongi manages to roll himself out of bed once his tongue is back inside his mouth, collecting his boxers and t-shirt off the floor. Yoongi can’t remember the last time he got laid, but he knows it’s never been that good before. He flops back down onto the bed and basks in the feeling of being worn out from a good fuck when he hears the bathroom door open again.

The hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie—falls just below your ass, exposing the length of your bare legs as you make your way into the kitchen. You let out a squeal when you hear the sound of footsteps rushing after you, followed by a pair of strong, lanky arms tugging you backwards. Yoongi buries his face in the crook of your neck as he holds your back to his chest, rocking you gently from side to side.

“I just want you to know,” Yoongi begins, and you feel the movement of his lips against your skin. “I’m not very good at expressing myself, and emotional stuff can be difficult for me. But I really do love you, even if I’m not great at showing it sometimes.”

You turn in his grasp and gingerly place your hands on his chest, toying with the collar of his shirt. “In all the time we’ve been together, I’ve never doubted that you care about me, Yoongi. Give yourself a little more credit. Your love language isn’t through spoken words, and that’s okay.”

Yoongi’s grip on your waist tightens. “You don’t mind?”

“If it bothers you, it’s something we can work on,” you promise. “But I don’t always need verbal affirmation. You take time out of your day to come see me while I’m working, you always ask to make sure I’ve eaten and have been drinking water, and you’re not afraid to hold my hand in public. I would never want that part of you to change.”

Yoongi touches his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

You rise up to your tip toes to deliver a peck to his lips before lowering yourself back down. “I ask myself that question every day. Now, come on, let’s see what I’ve got in the fridge.”

You meander over to the fridge and Yoongi follows close behind, peeking over your shoulder to see what you’ve got in terms of groceries. You hum a tune that he immediately recognizes as one of his own songs, and drops a kiss to the back of your head. You don’t turn, but you lean your body against his as you survey your ingredients.

“We could do fried rice,” you offer. “Or noodles. I mostly have random vegetables and some chicken, and I’m not that creative of a cook. What do you feel like having?”

Yoongi shrugs, hands placed on your hips. “I’m not a picky eater, whatever you want, we can have.”

You grab the food from the fridge and Yoongi lets you go as you place the ingredients on the island counter. “Fried rice it is, then.”

You peter off to fetch your rice cooker from one of your cabinets as Yoongi gets to work on washing the vegetables and chopping them up into smaller pieces. The two of you move around so easily together in the kitchen, not really speaking, but just enjoying one another’s presence. It’s all so domestic, and you can’t help but feel as if Yoongi’s always just existed beside you, an extension of yourself. You love him so much that it’s overwhelming, and Yoongi places down his knife when he catches you staring.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asks with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the outer corners as he flashes his gummy smile at you.

You pad over to him and kiss his cheek, giving his arm a light squeeze. “It’s nothing. Thank you for helping.”

Yoongi can’t help the blush that dusts his cheeks at your casual affection. “If I keep helping, do I get more kisses?”

You bite your lip and eye him up and down. You notice when Yoongi shivers under the heat of your gaze. “After dinner.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “Let’s get to cooking, then.”

It doesn’t take long, once the rice is done cooking, to get the rest of the meal prepared. Not without distractions, however—there are kisses stolen, lingering touches, and at one point Yoongi crowds you against the counter and almost convinces you to abandon cooking for other extracurriculars. You’re just about to give in when both of your stomachs growl in protest, and the two of you decide that maybe eating something is a good idea.

Yoongi ends up taking over for you, throwing seemingly random spices and seasonings into the wok as he combines all the ingredients. He’s unlike you in that when you cook, you need to measure out all your ingredients, refer to recipes, make lists. But Yoongi just seems to inherently know what spices go well together, what flavours complement the dish, and he just goes off of instinct.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him cooking up a storm in your kitchen really, really fucking sexy.

The smell is absolutely delicious, exceedingly so for such a simple dish, and you usher Yoongi to put on a movie as you grab bowls and utensils for the food. Yoongi complies, fetching the bottle of wine you’d opened earlier and bringing it over to the couch with him.

You’re carrying two full bowls of homemade fried rice when you walk over to the couch to see Yoongi scrutinizing the abandoned wine glasses from earlier. When you shoot him a questioning look, he lifts them both up to show you.

“Do you remember which one is yours?”

You can’t help but snort at that, placing the bowls on the coffee table. “Yoongi, you came inside of me like, half an hour ago. I don’t think it matters which glass is whose.”

Yoongi shuts his eyes, exhales hard through his nostrils, and purses his lips as if he’s trying to hold in a laugh at your remark. Once he’s convinced he’s gained control of himself, he pours the wine, indiscriminately hands you a glass and remarks, “You’re really something else.”

The movie he chooses is Ocean’s 8, muttering something about Cate Blanchett in suits, as you both settle into the sofa. You lean your head against Yoongi’s shoulder as you chew absentmindedly, alternating between complimenting your boyfriend on his culinary skills and making silly quips at the television.

Once you’re both done eating, you stack the bowls and leave them on the other end of the coffee table to deal with later. Yoongi opens up his arms for you and you slide into his lap, his arms circling you as the two of you watch the movie in relative silence, just enjoying one another’s company. The wine is long gone by now, warming both of you from the inside, and offers Yoongi enough boldness to ask a question he’s had on his mind for a little while now.

“Would you ever tattoo me?”

You look up at your boyfriend, startled. “What?”

Yoongi’s arm stiffens around you slightly, almost like he’s embarrassed. “If I ever asked, would you tattoo me?”

“Yoongi,” you sigh, sitting up and brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “You don’t even like tattoos.”

His eyes wander to the lines of the peony adorning your neck, one of his hands coming to rest on your bare thigh. “I like yours.”

“You like me,” you tease. “We both know you’re not a tattoo person, Yoongi. And that’s okay. I would never want you to make such a permanent decision just because you’re dating me now, or because you think it’s what I would prefer. If you really want one, and you’re positive that you would have wanted it even if we weren’t together, then sure. But if you’re thinking about getting one to make me happy, then no.”

Yoongi is quiet for a second before exhaling softly through parted lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You tweak his nose with an insolent grin. “I’m always right.”

He growls and grabs your waist, moving you so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands find his shoulders for balance and when he looks up at you with his catlike stare, you can seen that his pupils are blown wide. He raises his hips just a touch, enough for this hardening member to graze against your core. You gasp in a breath at the sudden shift and bite your lip as one of Yoongi’s hands comes to tug at the zipper of your hoodie.

“Guess I’ll just have to fuck the sass out of you, huh?”

You grin as Yoongi works the sweater open, allowing the material to fall down to your elbows. You palm his erection through his boxers and lean in to whisper into his ear.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh that dies on his tongue as you pull him free and stroke him, his cock stiffening in your grasp.

“Mmm, babe,” he smirks, and you feel yourself getting even wetter at the sight. He leans back, hands resting on your thighs. “You’re gonna have to try.” He sits up suddenly, pulling you flush to his chest as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. You mewl as he toys with it between his teeth, biting and pulling before switching to the other. Your breathing is coming in a staccato rhythm, and your heart nearly stops when Yoongi moves away from your breasts and just says, “Ride me.”

His eyes are twinkling with mirth as you feel your panties getting damper and damper. You move to stand, but Yoongi has other ideas. He grips your waist and keeps you on his lap, and you look at him questioningly.

Yoongi responds by running the pad of his thumb along the front of your mound, lightly grazing over your clit, causing you to shiver. He shifts his hand so that it’s cupping your pussy entirely, and you let out a tiny whimper as you feel to of his fingers pressing against your entrance through your soaked lace underwear.

“So wet,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers along the edge of your panties and slicking them to the side. You take his cock in your hand and decide not to waste any more time, positioning the swollen head between your legs. You sink down onto him slowly, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as he fills you inch by inch.

He feels even bigger like this, hitting every spot inside of you that makes you sing. When your cunt touches the base of his cock, you lean down to kiss him, hands cupping his face. Yoongi’s hands wander up your back, underneath your half-off sweater, holding you close, encouraging you to move.

“C’mon, baby,” he breathes against your mouth. “Work for it. Fuck me.”

You can’t help the moan that escapes at his words, and your hands grip the back of the couch with white knuckles as you begin to roll your hips. Yoongi lets his head loll back so that he can watch your face as you ride him, taking in the fluttering of your eyelids as your pussy takes him deep. He lets out a string of curses as you start to lift yourself off and slam yourself back down at a faster rhythm, both of you unable to mask your sounds of pleasure as you get lost in one another’s bodies.

You grasp at Yoongi’s t-shirt and wrench it off him, much to his amusement. But he’s not one to complain, especially when your breasts press against the naked planes of his chest, relishing in the feeling of you on him and around him.

“Tell me how I feel,” Yoongi grunts as he starts to meet you for every thrust, bucking up into you from below. “Tell me, baby. Wanna know how your pretty little pussy feels when it takes all of my cock.”

You bite back a cry. “Big,” you gasp. “And full.”

“Fucking love you so much,” he rasps as his hips start to pick up speed. His firm grip on your waist holds you in place as he fucks you hard, his balls slapping against your skin as he spears you with every thrust. “Fucking love your tight wet pussy, love how well you take me. Can’t believe you’re mine, can’t believe we waited so long to do this. Want to be inside of you forever.”

You feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, especially with Yoongi’s deep, husky voice spouting simultaneously the filthiest and most romantic shit you have ever heard in your entire life. He can tell by the way you throw your head back in ecstasy that you’re almost there, rapidly approaching the edge and just waiting to teeter off the side.

“Yoongi, come with me,” you beg as your fingers move over your clit, rubbing furiously. Yoongi chokes out a moan as your walls immediately start to squeeze down on his shaft. “Please, baby, I need you, need you so bad.”

“You already have me,” he promises, pulling you in for a kiss just as the dam breaks for both of you. Your keens are muffled by his lips and tongue, and you roll your hips to ride out both of your orgasms for as long as possible. You feel it when he explodes inside of your dripping cunt,  as his cock twitches and pulses through the remainder of his euphoria.

You stay there on his lap, forehead resting against his, as the two of you try to steady your breathing as well as your heart rates. Your forehead is dotted with sweat, and his bangs are damp and matted to his own. You lean back slightly and comb his hair away from his face with your fingers, wanting to see all of him.

Yoongi’s catlike eyes are searching yours, open and honest, like they always are when he’s with you. His lips are parted slightly, still taking in deep inhales of oxygen as his heart finally begins to calm. With the rosiness in his cheeks and the way he’s looking at you full of wonder, you think to yourself that he’s never looked more amazing or ethereal than in this moment.

“I’m so in love with you,” you can’t help but whisper, and it’s so quiet that you aren’t even sure if he heard you.

But by the way his hands soothe over your back and your waist, paired with the soft adoration that filters into his eyes, you know that he did.

“I’m so in love with you, too,” he promises, drawing you in for another kiss. When you part, he can’t stop the yawn that escapes his lips. “Shower, and then bed?”

You nod, also suddenly exhausted. You move to stand and nearly stumble. You would have fallen if Yoongi hadn’t immediately risen to catch you, his arms holding you tightly as the two of you make your way to the bathroom.

“It’s official. No shower sex. If we were to try, I think we would both get hurt.”

Yoongi pouts. “None? At all?”

“Yoongi,” you scold, though your voice lacks malice. “No.”

As it turns out, you have a really, really hard time saying no to Yoongi. So as a compromise, you go down on him under the steaming spray of the faucet, and he carries you back to your bed to return the favour one more time before bed.

And as you find yourself wrapped up in his arms, bare skin pressed against bare skin, you can’t help but smile. It’s been a long road to happiness. But lying here, with him, you can’t help but think of how lucky you are to know Min Yoongi, to love him, and to have him love you in return. So you drift off to sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat and dream of him.

And from beside you, with his lips pressed to your crown, Yoongi does the same.

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[renegadesrpg]

Dark Angels: Creation, Part 12 - Grace. Zav and Bryn

Zav: --Giving the area a last look around, I step into the old church and stand behind her. –

Damn, woman, you brought the whole thing. That expended a lot of energy. You know, you could have just brought the important tools and materialized the furniture and raw materials from closer by. It wouldn’t have taken as much out of you. Bryn: “I wanted my own things. I know the herbs were cut at the right time of the moon and a consecrated athame was used. I know the crystals have already been purified.”

And I wanted to keep the last connection to the one who’d helped me furnish the cavern, made the tables and cabinets and taught me so much. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

“Besides, it all comes from somewhere. We don’t just “make it” out of thin air. Sin might be powerful enough to do it, but when we do, it comes from somewhere.” Zav: --with a shrug, I look the place over and pick out a corner near the front with good natural light— That may be, but I figure with the risks we take, we earn it. When I materialize stuff, I picture it from a catalogue or someplace I’ve seen it on sale and get it from there. --That I generally find a way to compensate wherever I got it from goes without saying. Unlike the Horseman, Sin recruited honorable souls. Or in my case angels. Walking to the corner I’d scoped out…— This is good. It’s got good light. It’s open to your work area so I can be near if you need me, and vice versa, and I can see the door. We’ll ward the rest of the place against anyone, reaper, demon, angel or any other creature except through that door. --The shop… damn, I’m going to have to let some of my local people know I survived after this is all over. Dragon for one. And what if it made national news? What if Truely saw it? Panic spurts through my brain. What if she thinks I’m dead? What if she turns to someone else before I can get there…? No, no, no….I’m going to find her number and call her just as soon as I get this set up.— I think the chair right hear near the 10 foot tall leaded glass windows. And there are outlets in the wall along the back��. – When Sin had renovated he’d had this place wired for electricity and had installed generators too. After all, drug lords needed electricity to process product and they wouldn’t want the amount of energy used to alert any Polícia Federal. And I’m sure the local police were getting regular bribes from him as well. It would be expected. Sin made it a policy when dealing with humans to /always/ do the expected. Well, meeting those expectations worked for us too. Bryn was used to conjuring her own light in that cave she’d worked in, but I’d needed electric power to run my shop and I’d need it here too. Thinking back to a catalog I’d looked through a couple of weeks ago, I materialize a set I’d looked at. Tattoo chair with an adjustable head rest and arms and hydraulic control to raise and lower it, an artist chair, and a rolling tray. I look at the back wall and materialize a counter I’d seen there and then extra ink, pots, an autoclave and gauze and wrap from the same catalog the chair had come from on top of it. Later, I’d tally up the totals and move some money into the company accounts. Dropping my backpack on the counter, I turn to Bryn...— Ok, let’s get this show on the road. Where do you want me? Bryn: While Zav had been building his workspace I’d done basic anti-demon warding. He’d have to show me the symbols and spell for keeping out angels and reapers later, but for now we were safe. “Why don’t you lay down on your new handy dandy reclining tattoo chair?” While he moved to it, I unwrapped my ritual athame from it’s soft leather bindings and examined the edge. Sharper was better for skin. Less painful. The edge gleamed in the sunlight and drew blood as I ran my thumb along it lightly. “Perfect.” Zav: --eyeing her with the knife—You know what you’re doing with that thing? How to cut me to get enough without bleeding me dry? Bryn: Laughing, “Don’t be a sissy. You’re not the first ‘blood’ donor I’ve worked with, although you are the first grace donor. But it has to work the same and you’ll heal faster than humans. I’m going to slice along your arm and hold it pointing to the ground while your grace drains into a bowl. You’ve explained the magick of making a grace stone and once we’ve done this I’ll do a small one as a test. I won’t take more than I need.” Zav: Take /more/ than you think you’ll need. I’ll recover faster than if you have to cut me twice. And if you have extra make grace stones for you, Sean and Adrian, too. You won’t be able to handle as much as Sin, but a little in a stone will make you faster and sharpen your senses. –shrugging— It can’t hurt. If we had the time I’d ask you to put some in the protection bracelet you’re making for the fighters, but we don’t. So instead I’m going to add a few drops to the ink when I do the protection tats. Bryn: Frowning down at him as I stretch his arm out on the chair’s armrest. “Just don’t be a hero, ok? Your grace will regenerate but we don’t need you down for days. Let me know when to stop.” He nods in agreement, but I’ve known this guy too long. I’ll have to watch the cues. Taking the athame in hand, I draw it vertically along his arm, laying open the radial artery. I’d never take this risk with a human, no matter how powerful. They’d bleed out too fast. I’d have gone for the cephalic vein. Slower flowing and quicker clotting. But I was counting on reaper healing to make sure that didn’t happen to Zav. Shimmering blue liquid began to flow and I quickly move his arm off the chair’s armrest and squat on the floor holding it over a deep bowl. It runs down his arm and over his fingers in a stream. “You doing all right up there Romeo?” Zav: --I grunted as she made a long deep slice in my forearm. It’s funny how that same injury in the heat of battle is numb but sitting here, knowing what she’s going to do, it hurts like a bitch. – I’m fine. Let it flow little witch. You’re just sad because it isn’t real blood. Bryn: “Ok, I take that as an insult. And it’s never a good idea to insult the lady with the knife.” The truth is, I /have/ done blood magick before. It’s ancient and powerful and the more powerful the subject, the stronger the magick and the less you needed. Which is why I usually used my own, but there had been times when I’d needed volunteer donors. And I always used volunteers only. Anybody that has to kill somebody to get enough blood for the spell is either an amature or not using powerful enough blood. Shifter’s were good, as were vampires, other mages, fae and phoenix. All those beings’ blood had earth magick that blended nicely with my own. Zav’s grace, though, is a different story. Grace is empyreal, coming from the Creator of both the divine and the earth. He’d made empyreal magick and earth magick each unique in their powers, and they weren’t made to mesh. That’s why the white god had gone apeshit when the Gregori had fallen in love with humans and chosen to have children with them. The children had grace, yes, but they also had a soul and the soul is at the essence of earth magick. If one of those chosen by the Grigori had been a being of power, their children would have been a threat to the white god’s view of himself as top of the heap. So he’d had them killed. All of them. Grigori, their human mates, children, infants, babes in the womb...it hadn’t mattered so long as it was bloody and violent and sent the message to other angels what happened when you broke the white god’s rules. Not that I’d been around to see this, mind you. But Sin had, and he’d shown it to us when he formed our cadre so we would understand how dangerous an enemy the white god was. And –frowning at this thought,- once I completed the grace stone Sin was going to use it combined with his own human soul and reaper magick to bring down the Horseman. It was going to make him very, very powerful. I’ve got to wonder if that isn’t going to draw some unwelcome attention, but –mentally sighing- one disaster at a time. Zav: --snorting a laugh – You’d never hurt me. You love me and you know it. --As the iridescent blue fluid begins to flow my I turn my mind back to Truely, trying to ignore the sensation of my grace flowing down my arm. It isn’t the same as a mortal’s perception of blood flowing on their skin would be. Blood is warm and sticky, but grace is cool and slick. Everywhere it touches it tingles like sparks flaring. It was the raw magick in it, the power, the essence of life. And I can feel that essence seeping out of me. It’s like I’m falling backwards into a black velvet night. Fighting against the darkness, I twist my head to look down at her and force a cocky note in my voice— We about done here? I got a woman I need to call. Bryn: The deep bowl is nearly half full, with what I estimate is at least 2 pints. In a human I’d have stopped well before this, but I needed everything Zav could give for this to work. Glancing up at his question, I start to pop off a smartass response, but I pause. The skin under his tan is pale and he has sweat beading on his upper lip. He should have said something, dammit. His body is smarter than he is, though. The slice on his arm is already closing up on the ends, the flow of grace slowing naturally. “I think we’re done here, Romeo.” Standing, I reach my hand out and call the gauze from his counter to me. Lifting his arm, I lay it on the chair armrest and bind the wound to stop the ooze. “Gotta love reaper physiology. In a few hours that will be healed and, so long as you don’t head to the coast for an ocean dip, you won’t even have a scar.” Zav: --Swinging my legs over the edge of the reclined chair, I sit up. And almost immediately grab the edges of it as the world sways.— Bryn: “Hey, watch it big guy!” Grabbing his arm to steady him... “I really don’t think you want me to tell Sean and Adrian that you broke your nose falling on your face after losing a little grace. They’d never let you live it down. C’mon, lay back down in the chair for a while.” Carefully easing him back down on the reclined tattoo chair. Zav: --muttering as I ease back onto the chair— Fuck it. Hand my the phone in my backpack, will you? Bryn: Sighing, I grab his backpack from the floor beside his counter and rummage through the pockets until I find his cellphone. Turning back to him, I hold it up in the air. “You get this on one condition. You don’t try to leave that chair for the next two hours and if you need anything, you don’t try to materialize it yourself. You ask. I need you to be up and alert when I start on the grace stone. You taught me the magick, but I want you there if I need back up. And don’t worry, it doesn’t hold anything up. I’ll do the wards and start on the bracelets to the protect our forces from the trap. I just need you to send me the warding against angels and reapers. Demons are done already.” Zav: --raising my head in a mock glare — Tyrant. Give a person a little power and next thing you know they’re telling you what to do. -- with a sigh, I rest my head back on the padded head rest. The truth is, I probably couldn’t walk six feet right now, let alone swing a sword, so her plan’s good. Mentally I open to here and visualize the symbols in the order she’ll need them.-- Everywhere but the main doorway. I noticed there’s a place for a bar on the inside of the double doors that can be used to barricade the doors. The church must have initially served as a last ditch sanctuary against indigenous peoples when the land was being colonized and the brackets were left when the church was turned into a ballroom. Find the bar and put them on it. That way we can bar the door while we’re working and not have to be on high alert all the time. Now give me the damned phone. Bryn: Leave it to Zav to come up with that. After he’d become a reaper, the only way he’d really used his angel’s magick was to protect. He’d become an expert in defensive protocols using empyreal magicks and he’d studied strategy. Definitely our cadre’s go-to guy for this. The images he sends to me mentally are slender, and some are intricately drawn, but I’ve got an ediectic memory so I’m good to go. “Got it.” Zav: Leave no more than an arm’s span between them and repeat them in a line around the walls, on the ceiling and on the floor. And Bryn?” -- Lifting my head to look at her with a grin, because I’m about to get some of my own back.— It needs to be in blood. --laughing as she gives me a death stare and easily catching the phone she throws at my head.— Bryn: “FINE!” Zav: --Smirking as she walks off to take care of it, I settle back on the chair and Google “Truly Good Sweet Treats” in Pascoe on my phone, only to have it correct me on the spelling. Even though Sin’s pretty dismissive of technology, I’m grateful to it at the moment. The correct spelling of her name, Truely Goode, would have taken me a few minutes to puzzle out. Google had a website for Truely Goode Sweet Treats, and hallelujah, the website had a phone number! I punch it in and take a deep breath as it rings.— Hello? Can I speak to Truely, please?