#au where i fix his zipper instead

[swifty-fox]

❝  you’ve stolen my heart,  the least you could do is tell me what you intend to do with it.  ❞ for Outlaw AU bc it’s cheesy but I can see Bucky being cheesy and also theft outlaw au etc etc it all comes together

ohh i got so many prompts for this au where. Sorry this one got a little saucy.

read here!

"So what went wrong?"

They're camping just outside of Abilene, Texas. Pulled off the road into the desert and spread atop several old blankets John had fished out from the depths of the back seat. John's head is pillowed on Gale's stomach, rising and falling with his breaths and Gale wonders if he can hear the sounds of their last meal being worked over. He wonders if it's gross, but John seems content enough, hair sticking to the back of his neck with sweat and shirt bunched awkwardly up around his neck like a scarf to cool off.

It'll be cold come nightfall, especially with winter racing them westwards, but for now the evening heat is still an oppressive blanket. Gale has his braid twisted in his free hand, trying to keep as much of the heavy weight away from his skin as possible.

"I got shot is what," John mumbles, ashing his cigarette just past Gale's hip.

The hand Gale had been scratching through John's curls drags down John's shoulder and torso to finger at the near-perfect round scar nestled just above his left hip, smaller in on the back entry, a little wider on the exit round the front. John grunts slightly, though there's no way the scar could still be painful and Gale worries his thumb over it in small circles.

"You told me to never do daytime hits."

"If you wanted a rule-follower you shouldn't have run off with an outlaw, doll."

There's a pile of candy by Gales hip, twizzlers and sour skittles and dumdums. He plucks one at random, unwrapping the tiny lollipop and humming as sour apple flavor blooms across his tongue, makes a face and passes it off to John instead. The second is cotton candy and he works it over his teeth just to hear the click.

"I woulda run off with or without you. Just woulda ended up dead in a ditch in one scenario."

John shifts uncomfortably, rolling so they were face-to-face. His brow is furrowed, lips pinched. He's a good man, well-raised and well-mannered despite it all. Tender in ways Gale thinks was carved out of himself long ago, "No, you would have figured it out."

Gale strokes a thumb under John's eye, brushes across his lips until they relax into something less sad. He presses a kiss to the exposed jut of Gale's hipbones, nuzzles the tease of curls there and nibbles at the waistband of Gale's briefs.

Fingers knotting in reprimand behind John's ear, Gale bites back a whimper, "I'm not having this conversation with you with my dick in your mouth."

"Is it a conversation?" John asks, the sound of Gale's zipper loud in the night.

"Bucky."

John sighs heavily, drops his head back on Gale's stomach with a put-out air. Gale tries to ignore the way his breath puffs over the suddenly tight fabric of his jeans.

"There was a kid," John finally says, "A little kid and his brother. And I froze. They don't need to see that shit, you know? That's why I do nights. No innocents."

"You were standing in front of kids and the clerk shot at you?"

"Yeah," John spits in only the way an older sibling could, "Piece of shit."

They're silent for a while, John returning to licking the sweat from Gale's hipbones. Probably, they'll have sex, Gale thinks. It's just a question of when one of them will muster the energy to retrieve the lube and roll of condoms from the center console.

John's straddling him, thighs over his hips and sucking red kisses along Gale's chest when he sits up straight and fixes Gale with a calculating look. Gale watches him stare, content to let the other man work through his thoughts.

"You wouldn't have," John finally says.

"Wouldn't have what?"

"Frozen," John laves his tongue across the peaked bud of Gale's nipple, tweaks the wet skin after, "Would you ever get this pierced?"

"Focus. Please."

"That's the whole thought, you wouldn't have frozen if you saw those kids."

"What're you saying?"

John sits back with a sigh and fixes him with another look. The muscles of his arm flex sweetly as he brushes the hair off his forehead, "You got a cooler head than I've ever had. You don't freeze."

Gale thinks of the home he grew up trapped in and shakes his head, "I freeze plenty."

"Hmm," John answers, pushing up off of Gale's prone body and stretching his arms toward the empty sky, "No."

"No, what? Can y'quit bein' cryptic for one minute?"

John grins at him, eyes crinkling to vanishing, and offers a hand to haul Gale up, "No."

"I'm going to get the condoms," Gale says, "Get a handle on your lunacy in the meantime."

It doesn't surprise him that John's arms wrap around his waist while he's rifling through the mess of the car. They needed to clean it out, badly, and he doesn't pause in his quiet muttering when John's broad hand drags across his stomach.

"You'd be a better thief than me, if you tried."

Gale snorts, "Name one thing I've stolen that hasn't been a plan hatched by you."

"You stole my heart," John murmurs against his neck.

"Oh for-" Gale finally locates a single elusive condom under the passenger seat, "Jesus, John."

Bucky hums, tugging Gale out of the belly of the Corolla and pressing him against the closed backseat door, "I mean it," He insists, bumping their noses together and grinning, "The least you could do is tell me what you're gonna do with it."

Gale tilts his head back to allow for the kisses trailed down his neck, sighs up at the stars and allows himself to smile close-mouthed and faint, "I'm going to eat it, if you're not careful."

"That's hot," John remarks, falling to his knees in the dust

[juustozzi]

same anon who talk about wings au here are some more ideas/potential moments

winged people are rare and so they're aren't many stores for them so tenma has a few encounters with other winged players (like hayabusa) and or coach (like afuro) from a team that have to face next in a match

tenma , matatagi and minaho become friends more quickly cause they can relate so much with the struggles of taking care of their own wings and the feeling on flying through the air

it took awhile before tenma gave tsurugi another feather of his trust (because fake tsurugi had to where the feather to make sure tenma was convice he was tsurugi and accidentally took it when he left)

have fun with this, hope you enjoyed

hi! thanks for sharing more <3 (I went a bit overboard with this, sorry for a probably long reply...)

I like the idea of Tenma basically knowing (at least by face) a big part of other winged people of the area! Afuro made me thing about the customization of the clothes: with stretchy fabric, like jerseys and regulart-shirts, fixed wing slits work for pulling the wings through. with more formal wear, or fabrics that don't stretch, there could be different mechanics to get the fabric rest around the base of the wings; buttons like vests, or zippers/velcro, depending on the type of the clothing. I think Afuro would have very stylized and fashionable choices with these, showing off the tailoring instead of trying to make it look like a regular garnment!

tailoring can get expensive though, so I think outside of formal wear etc. the selection for kids and teens is mostly stretchy fabrics with standard wing slits. since the clothes won't fit them for long anyway, it isn't as usual to tailor clothes for youngsters. many also prefer baggy/loose coats and jackets, since stiff fabric can feel constraining for the wings, especially while they're still growing.

since the rarity of winged people, schools probably don't offer specific uniforms, but they're lenient with customizing it. I want to think that instead of paying a lot for a tailor, Aki helped Tenma to customize his gakuran! he can do the easy shirts himself, but the school uniform is from thicker fabric and sown to a specific structure, so it's a bit trickier to get neat. (Aki's not too crafty herself, but she does a good job with it!)

and yay for the galaxy bird gang! Tenma must've been so excited to get winged teammates, and even though the teams struggles to get together, they would surely bond a lot quicker than the rest. maybe Matatagi would get his character arc earlier, with Tenma getting closer to him faster, and pushing him more into the team?

also I think Matatagi would be a bit show-off with his wings, zooming too close past others and getting annoyed they can't keep up with him. he's very proud of his wings, and at first it looks as arrogance to others before they get to know him better. meanwhile, Minaho is kind of the opposite: he observes people and happenings silently and while he doesn't scare others on purpose by suddenly announcing his presence, he kind of finds it funny most of the times.

and oh, Tsurugi.. </3 sorry if this strays from your idea, but while I do think it would take a bit for Tenma to give out another feather, I can see it more as Tsurugi being devastated of losing his own in the first place (maybe he doesn't know the fake took it, and he thinks he lost it himself, and someone later tells him they saw the fake having it?) and he's feeling too guilty to tell Tenma about it.

at some point someone either accidentally reveals it or forces it out of Tsurugi, and after a bit Tsurugi and Tenma have a heart-to-heart and Tenma gives him another one. or something along the lines

thanks again! and if you ever get more I'd love to hear them!!

[electricbluebutterflies]

leto fixing jessica's hair/clothes just before they rush out the door

Three different people sent me this prompt so here we are. Modern AU / equivalent to late-era, PG-ish, also on ao3.

They’re going to be late. Worse, it’s her fault.

Jessica knows how these evenings go, how the slightest social misstep will ripple out and cause legitimate problems. The fact that she is not an involved parent by the standards of her son’s school has already been an issue this year, and apparently a certain species of divorcee doesn’t have the sense to ring-check before they try anything, and-

“You’re overthinking this,” her husband says, perched on the edge of their bed and watching out of… she’s not sure what emotion is dominant right now. Worry, probably, always worry, always-

“Either help me or go away.”

She’s trying to do better lately – it feels like she’s always trying to do better – but there are things she’s not good at. This month-into-the-school-year open house, for example, which always feels like a circle of hell for her, nothing but judgmental glances and maybe if she’s really lucky some oh-you-do-exist comment or two and-

“You’re on your fourth dress. I’m not sure-“

“This needs to be perfect. I need to be perfect.”

If she felt like she had a fairer choice, she’d aim for invisibility instead – she knows what colors make her blend into the walls, and she’s tried them already, and they don’t look right, not for this, not for-

“You’ll look fine whatever you decide. Whenever that happens.”

She twirls around to glare at her husband, trying to put all her emotions into things she won’t say because they’ll escalate too easily. “’Fine’ is not what I’m aiming for,” she hisses.

“Jess-“

“Don’t. Not right now. It’s either I look perfect or you get inappropriate comments every time you deal with these people when I’m not within reach for months and-“

“You have nothing to worry about. None of them are my type.”

There are days she’s amazed she is, she wants to say. This feels like one of them, indecisive veering too close to anxious, running late and fine the good thing about an open-house event is one doesn’t have to be on time but on the other hand she’s not into crossing a parking lot in heels and-

“Help?”

Onto dress number five, dark ocean blue with a zipper she hates doing on her own, and what’s the point of having a partner if she can’t ask for the occasional favor, and-

“I can feel your mind vibrating.”

“Not possible. My hair isn’t up yet.”

“It’s just an hour or two… you haven’t threatened not to go yet…”

“What, and ruin our son’s chances of making whatever social connections won’t stick past the first round of high-school-sweetheart weddings?”

“Like you care.”

She tilts her head and rolls her eyes, reminding herself that they never aim to wound, this is not who they are, this has never been who they are, this is not-

“You do,” she murmurs. “And that means I have to shut up and-“

“Overthinking.”

“Well aware and not helpful.”

“Not sure how else to-“

“I’m not asking you to calm me down.” Her hands slip up to where his is still anchored at the base of her neck, and she knows this is not the hard part, not anymore, not-

“I know. You’ll get through like you always do and then we’ll get home and you’ll pounce and-“

“Don’t give me ideas, love.”

She takes a step away from him and twists her hair up into a spiral bun, elegant and out of the way and oh that description could apply too much to her entire life, and-

“We’ll get through,” he repeats. “As long as you don’t threaten anyone…”

“That happened once, and I had my reasons…”

“I’m pretty sure it was more than once.”

“What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

The look he gives her doesn’t feel like agreement, but-

“Maybe there are advantages to how possessive you are.”

“You mean just slightly less of a bitch if you can hear me.”

“Something like that?”

She leans in and takes a heartbeat of a kiss, a promise of endings and motivations. “I can redo my lipstick in the car. This all look okay?”

“Yes. More than okay.”

“At least I know one person’s on my side…”

“Always.”

(They are, by technicalities, just slightly late but not enough that it matters.)

(Jessica does not threaten anyone, but she’s definitely not leaving the kid at that zoo for high school next year. That opens up a whole new world of private-school options, some of which are far enough out of current orbits that none of the other parents will have any idea about that one time a few years back that she tried to fight a peewee soccer ref.)

(Hopefully.)

[bratkook]

test drive. (m) pjm.

pairing. biker!jimin x reader , deep six!au genre. smut, pwp word count. 1.8k warnings. dirty talk, unprotected sex, spanking, they almost get caught by other club members note. requested by @imjustfanfictrash​ for thirst night, thank u!! i had to make this deep six related just a tiny bit lol

“Feels soft right?” Jimin chuckles behind you, playful smirk on his lips when he sees the way your fingers grip the leather seat of his new bike. “It’s high quality leather.”

You know he’s just teasing, knowing you don’t actually give a damn about the quality of leather, but you don’t have it in you to bite back with some quick response. Instead your face comes to rest on the same material, cool against your cheek as you moan out a slur that sounds like his name. 

When Jimin had called you over to the club’s shop, voice full of excitement as he gushed over his latest purchase, you hadn’t been expecting this to be the outcome. You were completely blindsided, too focused on the twinkle in his eye as he circled the bike and pointed at each of the features, too entranced with the way his stacked rings would glimmer in the bright lighting above. He knew exactly what he was doing, letting his fingers trail along the bike, trying to come off as innocent when he stood directly behind you, resting his hands along your hips as he slowly whispered into your ear. 

“Let’s take it for a test drive,” he had suggested, voice sounding way too seductive for you to believe he actually meant it. No, he had absolutely no intention of driving this thing out of here with you sitting behind him, that much was obvious as he slyly began kissing your neck. 

You were weak for him, all it took was a few strategically placed kisses and the right words murmured into your ear for you to agree instantly. Turning into a puddle as he slipped a hand underneath the hem of your dress, allowing him to tease you until you were begging for him to do what he wanted. 

“W-what if someone walks in?” you mumble, eyes focused on the door of the shop as he slowly pushes the head of his cock into you. He feels the way your pussy tightens at the thought of being caught, gripping the first inch of his cock so tight he has to pause to catch his breath. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he teases, ringed fingers coming up to push your hair over your shoulder, allowing him to see the side of your face as he pushed further into you. The warmth of your core has him groaning, teeth biting down on his plump lower lip, eyes dropping down to stare at the way you suck him in. 

Your light blue panties are pulled to the side to make room for his cock, the hem of your matching dress hiked up around your hips and he chuckles to himself when he notices the stark contrast between both of your outfits. Where you wore all pastels and dresses, he wore all black and leather. It was a constant reminder of how different you were, yet somehow Jimin managed to rope you in with his charm, allowing you to see past the rings and leather, past the red tombstone patch adorning his arms and back, seeing him for who he was: a man with so much love in his heart that just so happened to be directed towards you.

“No, don’t—fuck—“ you cry as he bottoms out, “don’t want anyone else to see me like this. Just you.”

He hums at that, letting his hands slide down your body until he was softly gripping your ass, thumb rubbing along the skin. “Don’t worry baby, I locked the door. You’re mine.”

His words make you relax, a shuddering breath filling the air as you adjust to his thick size, the familiar ache that came with taking him slowly subsiding. “Show me,” you mewl. “Show me I’m yours.”

There's a small beat of silence before he’s cursing under his breath, licking his lips over in thought, giving you a brief moment before he starts to rock into you. Slowly at first, inching back before thrusting forward, starting a smooth rhythm until you were begging for more. 

“My dirty girl,” he rasps, jaw slack from the pleasure, seeing the way you soak his cock in your arousal, thick strings connecting the two of you each time he pulls back. “Letting me fuck you in the shop like this.”

A small moan slips past your lips, fingers digging into the cushioned seat as you try to find purchase, the smooth body of the bike not giving you much to grab on to. You give up quickly after, allowing yourself to be rocked against the bike, hoping the stand it was on would hold against the force of Jimin’s thrusts. 

“Ah fuck,” you whimper, eyes screwing shut as he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you with precision, having grown too familiar with your body over the past few months. “Feels good—so good.”

Your mindless babbling has him smiling to himself, leaning over your body and cooing when he spots the way your mouth is dropped open, cheek still squished against the seat. “Yeah? Love my cock so much you wanna drool on the seats, huh?”

A small hum in confirmation is all you give him, succumbing to the pleasure, feeling each small jolt coursing through you as your skin slaps together. The leather of his jacket warms your back from his position over you, zipper of it ticking your waist when he stands back up properly. 

He could feel how wet you are, how it gushes out of you, coats the inside of your thighs and makes a mess of your skin. It has him speeding up his hips, snapping forward so quickly your breathing stutters, a gasp cutting through the air as he delivers a sharp slap to your ass, the rings smarting your skin, delicious heat spreading as you moan out. 

“Again,” you beg, arching your back and jutting your hips back into his, wanting to feel the slight pain that set your body alight. 

“I told you, you’re filthy.” He does exactly what you ask though, spanking you until your ass was sore and you were left slurring against his bike. Your mind felt light and airy, focused on each gasp he lets out, the groans of your name making your climax sneak up on you. 

You always liked it quick and messy, loved when he would sneak you away because he just couldn’t wait to sink into you, loved when you could feel the sweat coating your skin, especially loved when you could hear how fast he was fucking you. The wet squelches fill the air in the dirtiest way, mixing in with the low hum of music playing in the speaker a few feet away, blending in perfectly with the way you cry over his cock. 

“Aw baby, did I fuck you stupid?” his tone makes you shiver, stomach tenses as your chest hiccups when you gasp, only able to nod in a daze because yes, he had fucked you well and truly stupid. He always did, left you crying over it, too lost in the pleasure to do anything else but that. “You wanna cum for me, make my cock messy?”

“Yes, fuck Jimin, please.” you whimper, teeth biting down onto your lower lip so hard you could almost taste blood. The cool metal of his rings makes you shiver as he slides his hand around your body, fingers coming into contact with your clit, wasting no time circling the swollen nub. 

“Wanna feel you, wanna feel my dirty girl cum.” his voice drops as he speaks, thick with want and you wish you could see his face. You don’t have the strength to look back though, resting more of your weight onto his bike as the feeling consumes you, each flick of his fingers making you tremble, your hips bucking against his in search of your release. 

Jimin smirks when your walls tighten around him, making it harder for him to keep up his pace, having his own orgasm quickly approaching. A choked gasp comes from you, morphing into a desperate, drawn out moan of his name when he finally pushes you over the edge. Your mind blanks for a moment, a flash of light displayed against your lids as the euphoric feeling consumes you, your ears ring so loud you barely hear the words Jimin says as he coaxes you through it. 

“Fuck, just like that baby,” he groans, raking a hand through his orange hair, in awe with the way you quiver, weak thighs barely holding yourself up as you cream his cock. He’s fast to grab onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he quickens his pace, the aftershocks of your orgasm milking his own. 

“Gonna make you messier,” he adds on, so quietly, speaking to himself as he focuses on where you two connect. The way his cock shines in the light, your sensitive pussy pulsing around him, mixing in with the gentle cries of his name, it pushes him over too. With a handful of messy thrusts he’s spilling into you, curses filling the air as he feels the tingles crawling up his spine. 

You mewl against his bike at the warm feeling, whimper as he continues to fuck you in short, shallow thrusts before he’s pushing in as deeply as he could. The cool metal of his belt is felt against your ass, more warmth falling over you as he wraps his arms around your weak body, tucking his chin beside your neck with a gentle kiss to your skin. 

“Did you really lock the door?” you quietly ask, not minding the stickiness coating your skin. 

“Uhm, no,” he whispers with a grimace, cackling when you instantly stand up and push him off of you. His soft cock slips out of you as you adjust your panties and smooth out your dress, glaring at him when he motions towards your hair too. “Relax, no one comes to the shop this late anyways.”

Before you can even speak, the bells jingle a few feet away, a smirk on your face when Jimin’s eyes go wide and he turns around to cover his exposed self. Luckily it’s members of the club and not a person looking to get their bike fixed, matching patches on their own jackets, and when they spot your flustered expression and the way Jimin not so subtly adjusts himself in his jeans, they waste no time hounding him. 

They’re all laughs as they call him a dog, Hoseok and Jungkook shoving his shoulder in passing before politely greeting you and scurrying off to the back room to grab whatever it is they came here for. 

“No one comes here this late huh?” you repeat, brow raised and a playful expression on your face. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he pleads, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in to kiss your face, a smile on his lips because he knows you’re not actually upset. 

“Take me for an actual test drive and you’re forgiven.” Your hands reach into his back pocket to pull out the keys, twirling them around your finger with a sly smile. “I’m driving though.”

He doesn’t even fight it, agreeing without a thought, because as much as he liked to pretend he was this hardass, you knew he would do anything you asked him to.

[austajunk]

Au where Chiaki gets the Despair Disease instead of Nagito, but instead of becoming a liar, she becomes very… interested in the Ultimate Lucky Student. And she has very… unique ways of showing that interest.

Feel free to enjoy the rabbit hole I have dug for you.

Ooof this came out more so sweet. But so hot nonetheless! Thank you!

Some KomaNami sweet Despair Disease loving under the cut!

“The Obsessive Disease…you said?” Nagito swallowed, trying to pet his fingers through Chiaki’s hair as she kissed his collarbone.

“Sure did! Only I didn’t say what she would be obsessed with! Puhuhu… it looks like her need for a constant gaming fix transferred to you, ya lucky scoundrel!” Monokuma chortled. He watched the awkward display of heat and lust from one of the restaurant tables with his large head in his paws.

Nagito wanted to sigh, but he was already overwhelmed by Chiaki’s soft body nuzzling against him. His hand steadied up the small of her back as she eagerly left gentle licks and nips up his neck. Poor Chiaki was running a finger and shivering. She couldn’t stop clinging to Nagito for warmth and the Luckster didn’t have the heart to push her away.

“Nanami-San…” Thank goodness he had come to the restaurant so much sooner than the other classmates. They couldn’t see Chiaki acting like this. It was up to him to keep her safe from any perverted onlooker when she was vulnerable.

And at the same time, Nagito found his head swimming with Chiaki’s strawberry scent. Even with her in his arms, showering him in affection, he wanted her closer.

It was only when Chiaki’s palm brushed the front of his pants that he realized that he was hard for her. She was so delicate. So light to the touch. Such clever and dexterous fingers…

“Nanami… you shouldn’t… but I want to take care of you so badly…” He winced, spreading his legs. “Ahah… I’m really quite hopeless, aren’t I?”

Chiaki paused for a moment to glance at him with those glassy eyes. Nagito wondered if she was really in there, if she had coherent thoughts with the Despair Disease controlling her body.

“Komaeda-kun…” She uttered softly in his ear, giving the shell a sweet kiss. “Don’t hold back…” Her hand continued to massage the bulge inside his pants. “I want this so… so badly…”

Such a lewd gaze seemed impossible for someone as small and innocent as Chiaki but Nagito couldn’t stop staring at the desire she conveyed in her eyes. It was pure hunger. Those clever fingers worked at his pants and his zipper, bringing them down until his cock’s scent wafted before her nose. She inhaled him deeply and let the veiny cock prod her cheek.

“Mhmm…” The air around Chiaki had started to become too much to bear. Instead, she wanted to roll over like she was a loaf placed in an overheated oven. Her thighs came together and started bunching her panties up against her clit.

“It’s… so… hot in here…Ah…” Were her pink nipples always this big? They felt like they were on fire, like something was begging to be coaxed out of them as she brushed up against the fabric of her uniform. “Nghh… so sensitive…”

“It’s okay,” said Nagito. The world around them seemed to melt. “I know what you need…”Chiaki watched like a deer stuck in headlights as Nagito stood to offer her his thick, red shaft. It was nothing like she ever experienced. Sweaty and hot…

"Mhmm…" Her head was starting to get dizzy. But her tongue willingly licked the throbbing cock, eager to taste it for the first time. “Ah…”

“Nanami-san… is willing going down on me? On scum like me…?” Nagito’s cheeks went pink. His fingers twitched up to his lips to gasp as the pleasure shot through him. Her mouth was so warm… so inviting. “It feels so good…”

In the haze of the overbearing hot scent that was filtering through her head, Chiaki could barely hear the Luckster’s words about her. Instead, she was fixated on sucking her cock that best she could. As a first-timer, she was clumsy and struggled to fit even his head in between her cheeks. Her light pink eyes flickered up to glance longingly at her new lover as her hands desperately gripped his ass cheeks, giving them a bold squeeze.

“Beulah…” Her nose was plunged straight against her pubes as she sucked helplessly on her cock, unable to keep herself from licking the treat.

“N-Nanami—! Just like that… more…”

Nagito’s voice was low but his mind was drowning in the unforgettable sensation that Chiaki splurged on him. Something about Nagito’s cock was addictive to Chiaki in her feverish state, driving the desire to massage and worship him directly to her mind. Her breasts were still swinging in motion as Nagito pumped her cock to and fro down her throat, his hand finding the back of her head.

Finally…

A splatter of hot cream was shot into Chiaki’s throat which the gamer tried to swallow as fast as she could. She had always despised salty foods, but Nagito’s seed tasted so rich and creamy. Unfortunately she wasn’t quick enough and the rest was plastered on her lips and cheeks. Some strands of cum dribbled from her hair down to her chin and breasts.

“Mhmmm….Ah…” She licked her lips and swallowed the last of the salty excess.

Nagito opened his eyes after he was spent and shuddering to see the Angel before him spreading her legs and lifting her skirt for him.

“Aha… maybe… just maybe if I can try hard enough, I can hope to cure you, Nanami-san…”

Nagito’s hands felt up her thighs, keeping them apart as he peered down intently at the feverish girl.

“Just wait for me…”

[startanewdream]

Tipsy

Summary: Lily and James find themselves in need of a more private location — and there's nothing like having a whole place for them...

For the Anon who asked exactly for this.

Rated M, so mostly below the cut!

_______________

James’ mouth is hot over hers, demanding with a urgency that Lily hasn’t felt in a while. She can’t fault him; amidst all their worries — war, prophecies, fighting to survive — they haven’t had time to rest for a while. This is their first time out in months.

Maybe he longed for a moment of tranquillity too; maybe it’s all the alcohol they’ve consumed so far, in a silly attempt to play drinking games with Sirius — last seen over the dance floor, so attached to a blond that it felt nearly explicit, though Lily won’t fault Sirius this time. James had interpreted Sirius’ dance just as another drinking game and had decided to snog Lily in the middle of that nightclub as if his life depended on it.

Well, not exactly in the middle of the club. But he had taken her to the darkened halls leading to the bathrooms and ignoring the bored look of the security guards and the amusing looks of anyone who passed behind them, he had proceeded to pin her against the wall and snog her senseless.

Later, Lily will blame the alcohol for that very public display of affection, but for the moment she can’t really thinking in anything else than the way James’ tongue is dancing with hers, his hand everywhere — at one point holding her neck, burying themselves in her hair as if he wants to pull her even closer; then moving over the front of her dress almost distractedly, hand casually sliding over the swell of her breast as if he didn’t even notice what he was doing; or tugging at the edge of her dress, climbing over her thigh —

There is a cough, and they break away as little as they need, breathing hard, equally guilty and wanting looks on their faces.

‘So, you come here often?’ he asks, lips curved into that lopsided grin she loves so much.

‘Pick-up lines at this point, Potter?’ she asks in answer, watching his lips swollen, glasses crooked, all signs that his pick-up lines were not needed at all.

‘Back to using surnames now, are we, Evans?’

Lily giggles. Yes, she is more than a little tipsy.

And yet this supposed innocent sound makes his eyes flash darkly and she knows the look on his face — Lily is rather familiar with the expressions on James’ face before he moves to kiss her.

‘Hey,’ she stops him, putting her hand over his lips. It’s really hard to keep a chain of thoughts while he kisses her fingers, so obscene, but she must try. ‘Maybe we can take this somewhere else?’

‘Ohhh,’ that picks up his interest, eyes glistening with desire. He approaches her to speak at the base of her ear. ‘Back-alley?’

It’s also hard to think with the shivers his voice sends down her body.

‘I was thinking somewhere more private. I don’t want to be interrupted.’

‘Ohhh.’ He takes his time, breathing slowly, and Lily knows the prat is just enjoying the reactions he is causing over her skin. ‘My place is empty tonight.’

‘Your place?’ she repeats, amused.

‘I share with others sometimes,’ he answers without losing a beat. She laughs. ‘What do you say?’

‘Only if we can share dessert over the kitchen table,’ Lily replies boldly, and this makes him break apart to stare at her.

‘Merlin, I love you.’

‘Now, now, James,’ she places a chaste kiss over his lips, lingering long enough to make him crave for more. ‘That’s what you’ll say after.’

_______

They shouldn’t have apparated home, because drink and apparating don’t mix, that’s what James said more than once, stern...

But he can’t think right now, vodka and Lily twirling his brain into blissful oblivion as they land inside the house, all parts intact, thanks Merlin. He’ll deal with the consequences of all the vodka tomorrow morning, because for now all his concentration is focused on Lily, on the way her hands scratch his scalp and her legs wrap around his hips as he raises her, putting her carefully on the table of the kitchen, pushing the tablecloth away.

A glass falls to the ground — ops, maybe he thought he was being careful —, not breaking but making enough sound to echo in the darkened kitchen, but James can’t bother with it now. His hands are busy finding the zipper in the back of her dress, face buried in the cleavage of her dress, desperate for the moment he will finally kiss her breasts as he wanted ever since she first showed up in that dress, way too short and way too tight than he had seen her wear in a while.

She doesn’t help him with her dress, instead fighting a battle of her own with his shirt, opening the buttons there with easy expertise before moving to open his belt. Her hand slide down the zipper of his trousers just as he does the same if her dress, his hand brushing her skin and making goosebumps arise in the trail — though he knows she can’t be enjoying this as much as him, not with the way her warm fingers are enclosed over him, making him whimper — that’s okay, he tells himself, he will make her feel good too —

The lights turn on.

And for the first time in his life, James actually appreciates fighting two wars, because his reactions are very good. He jumps back, hands closing his trousers, just as Lily jumps from the table, her face impossibly red while she tries to close as much as she can of the zipper of her dress.

To their luck — or not, considering how occupied they were — Harry enters the kitchen rubbing his eyes, without his glasses, which gives them even more time to fix themselves — as long as their son doesn’t notice James’ shirt is buttoned all wrong…

‘Mum? Dad?’ he asks sleepily. ‘I thought you wouldn’t be back until dawn.’

‘I thought you wouldn’t be home, Harry,’ James answers, exchanging a look with Lily. It’s the week before Christmas and with Ginny and Hermione back for the holidays, Harry should be there spending time with his girlfriend and friends.

‘I was going to stay at the Burrow, but — Mrs Weasley places the weird charms —’ he blinks, seeming to realize he is oversharing, and he flushes, suddenly interested in looking at the ground. ‘Sorry, I just heard a noise here, I’ll be back to bed.’

‘Yeah, you do that.’

‘Night.’

‘Night…’

Five more seconds and they will be safe… Then Harry’s eyes find the glass on the floor and his gaze follows a path to the table, all messy, and then back to the ground, where there is a belt laying.

Harry’s eyes widen, and James feels suddenly old when he realizes his 17-year-old son understands what this means. Merlin, they grow up so fast…

‘COME ON!,’ Harry cries, pulling James away from his reverie. ‘Really? We eat at this table! Why?’

‘We are drunk,’ James says, and while this seemed like a good reason before, a part of him wonders if he should have admitted this to Harry.

His nostrils flare. James wonders if Harry knows he uses the same anger expressions as Lily.

‘Drunk? And you apparated home? Merlin, you KNOW you cannot do this! What if you had splinched yourselves?’

‘We are fine, Harry,’ Lily points out, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. ‘We just got caught.’

‘Yeah, by our son,’ James agrees under his breath, though everyone seems to hear it. Neither seems to find this amusing, though. ‘It’s not like he has never interrupted before.’

‘What?’

‘Harry, Harry,’ James grins. ‘Remember that time you caught us in your mum’s office and I told you I was just helping her take the potion out of her blouse?’

‘James —’

‘DAD!’ Harry backs away, looking properly shocked, his hand twitching in the direction of his wand as if he just wants to obliviate himself. ‘That’s it, I’m out. Locked in my room forever.’

‘We’ll place Silencing Charms next time,’ James promises, and this doesn’t seem to comfort Harry much.

He is still shaking his head as he vanishes in the stairs; James looks at Lily. There is a beat — then they break into a fit of laughter.

Yep, mostly tipsy yet.

_______

The next morning Harry makes sure to set the breakfast in the dinner table they never use, handling them a Hangover Potion without meeting their eyes. Lily notices he didn’t put the mint leaves to ease the flavour.

Well, they deserve it.

Notes: (Part of my Eyes Glistening - Jily Lives AU, which I didn't mention before to keep the twist a little! Anon asked for Harry to interrupt James and Lily, since Lily already interrupted Harry once - The Talk 2.0 | The other talk)

[sashi-ya]

Hello! I hope you are doing fine! Can I request the rough sex OS (the jealousy one) with Law? And with a shy s/o? I have a soft spot for a possessive Law.

Hi! 👋 I loved this request in specific, I love possessive Law too!. I wrote this little OS on a modern AU. She is a coffee shop barista, and Law of course is a surgeon. I hope you like it!! 💖 Thanks for reading! ~

NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Reader ~ Possessive & Rough Sex 🔥

TW: Explicit sex, violence, nosebleeding.

WC: 2064

A slow morning serving lattes and cold brews finds you bored, gazing several times at your phone screen, maybe your friends or your boyfriend Law sends something to pull you out from the boredom.

All the doctors, nurses and hospital workers are occupied with their duties, including Law. “He must be operating someone”, you think and simply grab a book, because these are the hours when no one enters your coffee shop.

The time flies by when you lose yourself in the written adventures of some books, so the workers begin to arrive at your shop hungry for lunch. You receive them happily, and despite you being a little shy, you always show a smile to your customers.

Mrs. Walker asks you for a special type of salad, but you don’t have it there on display. “I have more on the kitchen, wait a sec, I’ll bring you one from there!”, you tell her and head to the back of the store. When you come back, you see the only customer you wished never enters your store. He is an abuser, a stalker, a harasser. It is indeed Law's colleague. You haven’t told him, because you didn’t want to affect your boyfriend’s career as a surgeon, so you put up with that bastard's constant sexual advances.

You give Mrs. Walker the salad, and she walks away with a smile, because that son of a bitch looks and acts like an angel in front of the others, but when he is alone with you, he won’t stop telling how you should leave Law and instead try a good dick for once.

“Hello darling, have you already left Law?”, he greets you. You smile at him, you think you are not strong enough to confront him, so you just smile, close your hand into a fist and ask him what he is having. “Can I order you?”, he asks you shamelessly, approaching himself closer to you, laying his body against the counter.

You are disgusted, you just wish you had a gun to blow his head off. You smile again, and let a false giggle slip out of your mouth, but your eyes begin to get teary. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I saw you with a bikini on your Instagram post yesterday and I couldn’t resist!!. A vanilla latte would be awesome!”. He says, grinning at you. You nod, and head to the coffee machine and prepare his order.

You hand the plastic cup with the Latte served to the harasser, hoping, praying he would pay and leave as soon as possible. But this time, he goes too far. He has the audacity of snatching your hand when you give the cup to him. He pulls from you making your whole body hit hard against the inner part of the counter. Your face is really close to his, you start to panic, but you can’t make him let go of you. He keeps pulling, approaching his face even more to yours, “don’t act as if you didn't want to be kissed, come on, you little slut”, he says to you.

“She said no, bastard”, you hear Law’s voice and next the disgusting stalker receives a direct punch from Law’s tattooed hands. Yet, he doesn’t give up and stands up, hitting your boyfriend's handsome face. Drops of blood begin to stream down from his nose, and land over his white coat. Law uses his forearm to wipe the blood away and smiles at him. That son of a bitch was hurting, trying to steal what’s his. YOU. And he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

This time Law punches the guy on the stomach, and when he bends due to the pain he was experiencing, your boyfriend uses his knee to finish him. When the stalker finally lies on the ground, spitting some blood because of a pair of broken teeth, Law looks down at him and says “I told you to stay away from her. Get the fuck out of here”.

His colleague stands up and runs out of the store, threatening Law with suing him. “Heh...He’s not going to do any of that”, he says smirking, victorious and still nose bleeding.

You are crying, unable to move, astonished. He looks at you, and says, “Are you ok?”. “Y- yes. It's nothing…” you tell him, still not moving a single muscle. But Law, who had a different expression than he usually has, a more primal one, walks behind the counter and grabs you by your wrist.

“Why weren’t you saying anything to him? Why were you smiling at him? Stop crying”, he says to you, shaking your arm. “How many times I have to tell you you should be fiercer; I won’t be here every single time a bastard wants to fuck you!!”. You know exactly he wasn’t being unfair with you, but this was the way he had to tell you he was deeply worried by you… yet he continues. “I’m starting to believe you wanted him to do that to you, huh? you weren’t telling him nothing”.

“Law! that…. that’s not true”, you tell him. You have stopped crying, and you begin to get angry. “I must show you who you belong to, then”, he says to you with that grumpy voice and pulls you to the back of the store.

“L-Law… stop!! you are bleeding, let me…”, you try to say as he pulls from you, but he interrupts you. “Shut the fuck up!”. He was pissed, but… horny? You try to reach to his nose, maybe to clean him up, because he won’t stop bleeding, but he backs his head up, snorting his own blood. An evil grin draws on his face, and he licks the blood that slowly covers his upper lip.

“Oh…”, you voice, damn how sexy he looks. At first you feel guilty to feel so attracted to him bleeding, hurt, with his disheveled black hair and his white coat stained red. His intense grey eyes are fixed on yours, and shamefully, subtly, almost unnoticeable bit your lower lip…

��You are mine; don’t you know that?”, he tells you and begins to walk towards you. You remain still until his right hand starts squeezing your neck. “L-Law…” you gasp. “What?”, he tells you, pissed, approaching his face to the left side of your face. Your legs tremble, it’s not exactly because you are afraid…

He squeezes harder and harder the sides of your neck, you try to gasp for air and when you begin to feel lightheaded, he orders you to walk to the kitchen counter of the cafeteria. “Babe… the- the store is open. A client could enter…”, you tell him. “I hope so, so they learn who you belong to”, he says. “But…”, you try to complain.

“Shut up”, he tells you, and tangles your hair around his veiny hand, pushing you, in order to bend your body over the cold metal of the counter. He bends over you; you can already feel his hard rock sex against you. Law bites the shell of your ear, and then, without letting your hair go, turns your head to the side so he can invade your mouth with his wet tongue.

A ferrous taste from the blood lingers on your mouth as you make out. He moves his hips with a pounding motion. Your breasts are pressed against the metal table, and the thin fabric of your blouse allows the cold to hit and erect your nipples. “I’m in the mood to fuck you right now, no foreplay”, he says, and slide down your pants and panties with just one hand. You are left completely exposed to him, your ass up, you are ready to be penetrated.

He lowers his zipper down and frees his hard member. Law plays with it over your ass, pinning you to the counter, threatening to fuck you rough there. You beg him “please, no no”. “Haha, I know I know babe, I’m not gonna hurt you”, he says laughing with his lips pressed against your ear.

You are more aroused than you should be, but also really worried some customers might enter, so for a second your mind focuses on hearing if someone is there. But suddenly you are brought back to the kitchen, when Law roughly, violently, and with a grunt, penetrates you. Fast thrusts, fast and deep thrusts, stretch your walls, and the tip of his dick hits exactly that perfect point.

“So wet and tight… babe…”, he gasps as he feels your sex pulse around his dick. You can help but whine and moan his name, as he hits over and over that spot inside you.

You suddenly hear the bell of the door announcing a new customer entering the store. Panicking, you whisper Law “Babe… someone… e-entered…”. Your voice cracking with every thrust. “So what? you want to show them?”, he tells you laughing and fucking you even harder.

“Is anyone here?”, a man asks from the store. “Fuck fuck fuck”, you think trying to cover your mouth not to be heard by the customer. But Law has other intentions… “I got an idea…”, he says and pulls from your hair, still without detaching from you, to make you stand up. “Go tell him, you’ll be right there”, he tells you, with a devil grin. “What?”, you ask him, how are you supposed to tell him, being half naked, and with Law’s dick still inside you. “B-but Law… stop it” you tell him, mortified. “What? Are you ashamed of being fucked at work? Go tell him, don’t show your body…”, he commands and pushes you softly to the door.

Your heart races, your cheeks are red with that sex glow, your hair is a mess, you are sweating. Picking through the kitchen entrance, you greet the customer, “Hey, S-Sir… I’ll be right t-…” Law thrusts you, deep. “Theeeere… in a se-cond”. You barely managed to tell the guy those words, your heart -and your core- is about to explode. You have spoken to a customer while being fucked behind the thin wall that separates the kitchen from the counter…

“Good girl”, says Law enjoying your suffering and turns you around. He lifts you up and sits you over the table where you normally knead bread for the cafeteria. He takes off his white coat covered in blood stains from his nose hemorrhage and takes off his pants. He crawls over you on the table and begin to fuck you so rough, and while he does it with one of his hand, he pinches one of your nipples and twist the hell out of it.

He bites your neck; you carve your nails over his back. You are getting there, and he is too. Flour flying everywhere, your breasts look like cakes ready to be baked. Law has baking powder all over his nose. Pounding you, calling you “MY little slut”. You try to hold your moans, but Law slaps your cheek, and you are now whining, and crying his name. You have forgotten any shame, the customer, the food, the cafeteria.

You are about to come when you hear your name being shouted in horror. “Y/N?!”, your manager is right there standing, witnessing your spectacle… “What the fuck? a customer is waiting for you there… and you are... FUCKING OVER THE FOOD?”.

Law looks at you and hopes off. “Tch, I hate bread, fucking flour”, he says while brushes the rest of the white material off his shirt. You are sitting there, with your whole ass over the table, covered in flour, a white mess, half naked. You are a shy person… yeah… until today. “I’m sorry, boss. I’m leaving my apron and imma head out”, you tell him. “Right”, says your manager, still without becoming aware of what has just happened and walks away excusing himself with the customer.

Law and you quickly get dressed, both look at each other and begin to laugh uncontrollably. Once you are ready to leave, you bite the inside of your cheeks just to avoid laughing in front of your now -ex boss-. And while you are heading out, Law stands next to the manager, puts a hand over his shoulder and tells him, “Just for the record, she IS mine”.

You both leave, and continue what you have started at home… 💖🔥

[lcksndkys]

Title: Official

Pairing:  Namjoon x reader

Rating: 18+, smut, fluff

Genre: secret dating au

Word count: 1,467

Summary:  You can only hide your new relationship from your friends for so long.

Warnings: oral (m. receiving) + a ruined shirt RIP

A/N: This lil smutty piece was written for the ghostie drabble marathon. Song lyrics:  “Because all of this is not coincidence.” (DNA). Inspired by @jinpanman ​ ‘s post about "Namjoon fixing his zipper in the middle of the performance”. Also, by law, tagging @sahmfanficbts <3

You grunt quietly as Namjoon presses you against the wall, mouth sealed tight against yours as he kisses you deeply between racks of clothing.

Hand pressing against his chest, you push his heaving body off yours.

“You have to go on in like,” you look down to check you watch, “15 minutes.”

“Mmm, that’s ok, plenty of time,” comes his low rasp as he continues to lick into your mouth, grinding his hips into yours.

You let him kiss you languidly for another minute, basking in the pre-show privacy. No hiding from curious friends or judgemental peers. Just you and Namjoon for these precious, fleeting moments.

Namjoon had begrudgingly agreed to keeping your relationship private upon your request. What had started as a drunken hookup months ago had evolved into under-the-table hand holding, sneaky kisses, falling asleep on nightly phone calls. 

“Ah, Joon, you- they’re gonna come lookin for you,” you pull back, panting and trying to reason with him.

Instead of replying, he ducks his head burying face first into your neck where he suckles at the soft skin he adores so much.

Whimpering, you claw your fingertips up and down his sides, feeling the silky material of his top. You pull his shirt free from his pants and send your hands underneath to feel his bare skin. 

“Fuck,” you whine. “No marks, Joon” you gasp, feeling the sudden increase in suction against your pulse point, losing himself to the taste of your skin.

You feel the rumble of displeasure in his chest as he yields to your command. 

He knew you were exclusively dating him, but when no one else was privy to that information, it almost seemed negligible. He was tired of biting back his frustrations when your mutual friends would try to set you up on dates. (Not that you would ever agree to any.) He was tired of pretending the two of you weren’t more. He was ready for the world to know about your relationship, but he knew you were still hesitant. 

Namjoon detaches his warm lips from your neck to peck lovingly at your forehead.

Pressed against the length of him, you feel the evidence of his excitement prodding against your abdomen.

“And how exactly do you plan to hide that?” you giggle, cocking an amused brow at him.

He brushes your hair aside and lets his large hand rest against your throat. Possessive, yet gentle.

“Mmm, it’ll go down,” he mumbles as he reattaches his lips to yours. 

Kissing across his mouth and planting a few along his jaw, you make your way to his ear.

“Or I could help you,” you whisper seductively, cupping his clothed erection.

You smirk when you feel Namjoon shiver at your gentle fondling. His body is like a live wire, crackling and exposed at your electric touch.

“Oh shit, I- I can’t return the favor though,” he pants.

“Take care of me after the show,” you purr, hands unbuckling his belt and reaching for the zipper. “You want this?” you ask one last time to which he nods vigorously. 

Impatient, he pushes your hands away to free himself from the confines of his pants. 

You wrap an eager hand around his length and swirl a thumb around his flushed tip. You gather the moisture there and spread it in slow circles around the rim of the head making Namjoon groan deep in his chest. 

You spit generously into your hand to avoid chafing him.

Skin smooth and soft, you pump him quickly to jerk him to his full potential. 

Thunk. Namjoon’s head falls back against the wall, eyes closed in bliss, as you tighten your grip around him.

“Eyes on me, big boy” you whisper, sinking down to your knees for your man.

His gaze follows you all the way down until you settle comfortably between his parted thighs. 

Your hand continues jerking his cock as you pepper open mouthed kisses to his groin and lower stomach. Your otherwise unoccupied hand pins his hips against the wall.

“Love these,” you muse.

Caressing the supple skin of his powerful thighs, you feel him throb wantonly in your hand.

You sink your teeth into the muscle. All pressure, no pain. 

There’s a garbled groan from above you.

“Baby, please,” Namjoon pants, “We don’t have much time”

You inspect his cock as it pulses in your grasp. “Oh, I think you’re only gonna need a few minutes,” you cackle.

An endearing flush spreads across his cheeks, dimples flashing as he chuckles along goodnaturedly. “Well, my girlfriend is very hot,” he argues.

You gulp, trying not to go rigid while holding his length in your hand. Neither of you had explicitly labeled your relationship, opting to silently agree that you were exclusively seeing each other.

Rather than stutter out a response, you stuff his cock deep into the wet heat of your mouth, wrapping your lips around him the way he likes. 

Namjoon’s hands immediately push your hair back and hold it in a makeshift ponytail as you sink down his length. He’s not about to miss the visual of you blowing him.

Holding him by the base, you bob up and down, gagging lightly as he slides down the back of your throat. You try to relax, inviting him into the depths of your mouth and coating him in a sheen of saliva.

“Fuck,” he moans, feeling you increase the suction around his shaft.

Your hand begins pumping what won’t fit in your mouth, suckling around the crown and urging him towards his climax.

“Baby, look at me, eyes up” he pants over you, unraveling quickly with your enthusiastic servicing of his cock.

You lift your heady gaze up to meet his desperate eyes. Brows pinched with his lower lip held hostage between his teeth. He’s so close.

Your mouth focuses on his sensitive tip, hand furiously working his shaft. His legs quake with his impending release.

With an obscene groan, Namjoon cums, erupting in your mouth. You continue to suckle at him, hand slowing down but pumping leisurely to help him ride out his high.

You do your best to hold his load without immediately swallowing the unsavory fluid.

“You know what I wanna see,” he whines, encouraging you to open wide.

Namjoon moans in appreciation, seeing his seed fill your mouth as you swipe your tongue through his cum to lick at your lips. You swallow most of it and let the rest dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Namjoon-ah! Are you still changing?” comes the tinkling of Jin’s voice.

Fuck. 

You urgently flip through the rack of Namjoon’s clothing to find something to clean up with. Pulling a semi-plain shirt from its hanger, you wipe down his wilting cock and leave him to tuck himself back into his briefs as he pulls up his pants.

Cleaning off your mouth and chin and the residual cum off your chest, you haphazardly replace the top on its hanger and try to shake feeling back into your feet.

You check your watch again. Six minutes to show time. You smirk.

“Break a leg, bubs” you smile up at him and push him toward the door with a parting good-luck-kiss.

You watch happily from backstage as the group performs another stellar show. The crowd cheers when Namjoon makes a joke about his opened fly. Choreography and vocals all flow smoothly as the night unfolds, leading up to the final few songs.

The seven men pile into the dressing room for a final change for the encore when there’s a ghastly shriek.

“What the actual fuck,” Jin hollers. 

Several pairs of eyes look over to Jin as he gingerly inspects an article of clothing.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Jin looks from his soiled shirt, to you, and back down to the shirt he’s supposed to change into.

You had forgotten you had worn lipstick tonight. And it was smeared all over Jin’s top along with residual ejaculate and spit that had begun to flake as it dried.

Incriminating at best, evidence at worst.

“What’s your lipstick and whateverthefuckthisis doing on my shirt? Why was Namjoon’s zipper down all through the first half of the show? And why did Namjoon-ah get all pissy when I tried to set you up with Sejin-hyung last week?” he fires off suspiciously, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

The room falls dead silent and all you hear is the pounding of blood between your ears.

“Because all of this is not coincidence,” Jin continues, gesturing wildly.

“I'm with Namjoon,” you confess quietly. 

The room erupts in hoots and hollers, I told you’s, and all you see is Namjoon beaming at your admission, happy to finally love you officially and publicly.

[jaehyunhour]

34+35 ⭑ JOHNNY SUH

⭑ GENRE: fluff, smut

⭑ MEMBERS: fem!reader x johnny (mentions of jaemin and jeno)

⭑ DETAILS: yet another college!au, frat boy boyfriend johnny

⭑ WARNINGS: slight exhibitionism, mention of the word daddy, 69, oral [both f & m receiving], unprotected sex, lil bit of spanking

⭑ WC: 4,031

⭑ SUMMARY: as you're nearing finals week, you and johnny decide to help each other destress a bit.

⭑ AUTHORS NOTE: this is basically porn with little plot and is purely self indulgent, enjoy my babies <33

You straddle Johnny’s lap, hands placed on his cheeks as your lips connect with his. Your skirt rides up with each subtle thrust of his hips, his hands gripping onto your thighs tightly. It’s the middle of midterm season and you’ve booked a study room in the library to do work, but it quickly escalated as Johnny’s fingers trailed from your knee up to the wet patch on your underwear as you were trying to make flashcards for your Physics class. His hands reach up to grip onto your hips as his tongue slips into your mouth, fingers digging into your bones and forcing you to grind down against him and moan against his mouth.

“You might think I’m crazy, but you know what I’ve been craving lately?” You say, pulling back and tilting your head as Johnny’s lips trail down to your collarbones. He sucks the skin into his mouth, nibbling lightly and your mouth opens in a breathy moan. “To put it quite plainly—” you start, but are cut off by the doorknob jiggling. You groan, pulling yourself up off of Johnny and heading towards the door. You pull it open, not even bothering fixing your askew skirt or messy hair. You’re met with a group of boys you recognize from one of your classes and you flash a smile. 

“Can I help you?” You say in a sing-song voice.

“I-uh, we booked the study room starting at 2 and it’s already 2:15,” one of them says quietly.

“Oh! Sorry about that, we got a bit carried away,” you turn around to look at Johnny and fix your skirt. The boys push the door open a bit more, peeking into the room and Johnny throws his head back and lets out a sigh. He zips his pants back up, buckling his belt before picking his backpack up off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. You bend down to pick your backpack up, flashing both Johnny and the group of boys the way your wet panties are sticking to you. Johnny feels his dick stir in his pants and he quickly grabs you by the hand and drags you out of the library.

Once outside, you grip Johnny’s hand tightly as you aimlessly walk around campus enjoying his presence. He walks slowly, enjoying the uncommon quiet of the school and the feeling of your hand in his. “So what was that about you craving something lately, princess?”

Your cheeks heat up at his words. Despite it only being approximately seven minutes since you were grinding on Johnny in one of the private study rooms of the library, you had already forgotten about what you had said. Truth be told, in the moment you were thinking of the last time you had sex with Johnny, the feeling of him filling you making you feel warm and content.

“I don’t wanna say, someone could leave one of these buildings and hear us…”

“C’mon, princess, don’t get shy on me now. You were about 3 minutes away from riding me in the middle of that study room and now you don’t want to admit that you just want me to fill you with my cum?” He tsks.

“Oh my god, baby, stop,” You blush and hit his arm playfully. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Hmmm, well we have a chapter meeting tonight that’s supposed to last for a few hours and I have to study for some exams.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted and you know that,” you say with a slight pout on your face.

Johnny’s hand slips out of yours and he lets out a laugh. His hand then comes up to your face, gripping your jaw tightly and effectively wiping the pout off your face. He slips his thumb into your mouth, and your tongue swirls around it instinctively before closing your lips around it and sucking on it. “What did you want me to say, baby? That I am going to do you all night? Hm? Fuck you till the daylight?”

You nod eagerly and he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, wiping it clean on your cheek and you whine.

“How bout you come over tonight after the chapter meeting and we can watch a couple of movies instead of studying for finals? We haven’t had any alone time in a couple weeks… I’ll even keep the suit on for you,” Johnny suggests.

“Fine, but I should get home now then so I can rest before I get over there. We’re not watching aaaaany movies tonight,” you respond.

“Let me walk you to your car.” He slips his hand back into yours, pulling you towards the student parking lot quickly. Once at your car, he presses your back into the drivers side door and leans in to press a kiss to your lips.

You grab onto his hand and push it between your thighs and underneath your skirt. “Are you sure you don’t want to come into the backseat with me for a few minutes?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Johnny sucks in a breath as he pushes your underwear to the side and feels how wet you are. He rubs tight circles onto your clit and you let out a whine that echoes in the parking lot. He turns you around, pressing you harder into the car door and pushing his crotch against your ass. 

“Ten minutes, max.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, unlocking the doors and crawling into the back, but not without a harsh spank landing on your ass.

“You really can’t keep it in your pants, huh?”

“Only because you’re a dream come true.”

Back at your apartment, you begin packing your bag for your overnight at the frat house. Johnny invited you over for movies, but after not having spent any alone time with him in nearly three weeks you know there is absolutely no way you’re going to be watching anything. After packing your bag with fresh underwear, your phone charger, and a couple of other things, you change into a fresh pair of comfy pajamas before getting into bed. You lay in bed in the dark, eyes closed and sinking into your bed.

Your roommate comes home a few minutes later, raising an eyebrow as she walks past your room and sees you laying in the dark but obviously not asleep.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“Saving up my energy,” you respond. “I’ve got a long night ahead of me.”

“Are you pulling an all-nighter for midterms?”

“Nope. Going to the Sigma Chi house after their chapter meeting.”

“And you’re planning to fuck the entire house or what?”

“Just Johnny, duh. Although I wouldn’t mind getting some of the others in bed… Have you seen the new recruits? They’re absolutely delectable. There’s these two boys named Jeno and Jaemin, they’re best friends and my god are they pretty. I keep asking Johnny if we could invite at least one of them the next time we do stuff but he always says no.”

She fake sighs. “Your life is so hard. Have fun tonight, hope you can walk tomorrow.”

“Actually, my goal is to not be able to walk for the rest of the week. Rest of the month if I’m lucky.”

The drive from your apartment to the frat house is short. You park your car on the street in front of the house, not bothering to let Johnny know you’ve arrived. When you walk up to the house, overnight bag in hand, and knock on the door, you’re met with Johnny’s bright smile and it forces one onto your own face. You look him up and down; he’s still wearing the suit he’s required to wear for his chapter meetings, and it fits him perfectly in all the right places. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you take in his appearance. He lets out a laugh as he sees your eyes raking his body and he grabs your hand before pulling you into the house.

The inside of the Sigma Chi Frat house isn’t really what you’d expect from a bunch of frat boys. It’s fully furnished, neat, and most importantly: clean. Upon first glance, you wouldn’t think that around ten different boys all live here together — but then you walk into the kitchen to see they have a beer pong table in place of a dining table with a bunch of folding chairs around it, and realize that only a bunch of boys could live here. Johnny pulls you into the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on top of him as he presses play on the movie he was watching. 

You straddle his hips, making sure to grind down on him as you press an array of kisses onto his neck. His hands hold onto your hips tightly, helping you move as his eyes are focused on the TV behind you. He’s not actually paying attention to the movie anymore, but he loves to make you work for the things you want. He loves the way you get needier and needier with the lack of attention he gives you, the way your hips speed up against him, and the way you whine against his neck. You pull away from Johnny, scooting back to put some space in between your crotch and his, letting your hand unbutton his dress slacks and pull the zipper down. Your hand slips into his boxers, pulling his half-hardened dick out and he lets out a hiss when the air hits him.

“Right here, princess? Where anyone could see?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow as your hand begins to move up and down slowly on his hardening length. 

You nod, his dick now fully hard in your hand, and you drop your head to his, forehead to forehead, lips ghosting over his. “Yeah, why? You got a problem with that?” Your hand moves faster and Johnny throws his head back onto the couch with a groan. His hands fall from your hips to the couch, and he grips the cushions tightly as you continue your movements. His hips buck up every time your hand comes all the way up, thumb wiping across his tip, and you can tell he’s going to burst any minute. Johnny lets out a shaky breath, willing himself to calm down before he cums all over himself in the middle of the living room.

His hand shoots out to grab onto your wrist as he feels himself seconds away from his orgasm, and he pants as he tries to recollect himself. You tighten your grip on the base of his dick and he lets out another groan. Before Johnny can say anything, though, you hear someone coming down the stairs and within seconds are met with Jaemin. 

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming over,” Jaemin says excitedly, standing still at the bottom of the staircase and flashing you a smile.

The couch shields your lower half, and you smile back, continuing to move your hand discreetly over the length of Johnny’s dick, forcing him to bite his bottom lip to stop any noises from escaping. “Jaeminnnnn,” you coo. “I didn’t know you were home! I figured you would be out studying with Jeno.”

“Well, we were going to go to the library to study but figured we should just stay here instead. At least here we don’t have to put any pants on.”

“Riiiight,” you say. You focus your attention onto Johnny’s tip, moving your hand unbelievably fast, his head falling onto your chest. “If I had known you and Jeno were home, I would’ve invited you two to come watch a movie with us.” With your other hand, you grab onto the hair on the nape of Johnny’s neck, tugging his head back and giving him a mischievous smile. “Johnny, you should’ve told me that Jeno and Jaemin were staying in tonight. You’re so mean.”

“Yeah, hyung! So mean,” Jaemin echoes, walking into the kitchen without another glance at you. 

Johnny gives you a dirty look to which you can only giggle at. You slip out of his lap, your hand never stopping its movements, and slide in between his thighs, head meeting his crotch and tongue coming out to kitten lick the tip of his dick.

“You are such a tease,” Johnny says, hand holding the back of your head and bringing you closer to his aching dick. You laugh, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. Within seconds Johnny is finishing right onto your face, most landing in your mouth but a little bit getting on your cheek, and he lets out a loud groan as he finishes. His fingers collect what landed on your face, pushing it into your mouth and you swallow before sticking your tongue back out to show him everything is gone.

Johnny doesn’t even allow himself a moment to calm down from the mind-blowing orgasm you’ve just given him. Instead, he quickly tucks himself back into his dress slacks and pulls you up off the ground. He grabs your overnight bag from the floor and heads straight to his bedroom, you trailing right behind him.

Just like the rest of the home, Johnny’s room is not what you would expect from a frat boy. His bed is neatly made, there are movie posters all over the walls, and he keeps everything on his desk organized. All of his dirty clothes are in the hamper in his closet, where they should be, and he has all of his shirts and sweaters in his closet organized by color.

Once inside the room, you crawl onto the bed and get on your back, watching as Johnny takes his suit tie off and hangs it on the outside knob of his door before slamming the door shut. He peels his blazer off, putting it back onto a hanger and into his closet where appropriate. He untucks his shirt, unbuttoning it one button at a time and you slip your hand into your underwear, fingers circling your clit lightly as you watch Johnny undress. A soft moan escapes your lips when you put pressure, toes curling at the much needed attention on your clit and Johnny laughs at the sound. He pulls his pants off, setting them on top of his dresser, then saunters over to the bed.

You spread your legs as soon as Johnny reaches the edge of the bed, leaving enough room for him to crawl in-between. Within seconds, Johnny’s hand is replacing yours in your underwear as his lips attach to yours. Your lips move in sync, tongues coming out to play with each other, and you peel your shorts and underwear down and kick them off to give Johnny more room to move. He collects your slick on his fingers, inserting two fingers into you without warning, a surprised moan getting caught in his mouth.

His fingers move in and out slowly, lips moving to suck on the skin of your neck and leave red and purple marks in its wake. You tilt your head to the side to give him more room, bucking your hips up as a silent plea to get Johnny to move faster, which he does. He drives his fingers into you quickly, thumb circling at your clit and your jaw hangs open, letting out every moan that bubbles in your throat. He pulls away from your neck for a moment, allowing you to remove your shirt before he bends down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks harshly on your nipple, fingers moving even faster in and out of you and your orgasm starts bubbling in your stomach. He lets the nipple go with a pop and then moves onto the other one, all the while curling his fingers to hit your g-spot and tightening the circles on your clit.

“F-fuck, Johnny—” you say, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m so close, sososo close.” Your hips buck up in an attempt to get just the tiniest bit more of pressure that will push you over the edge, but Johnny pulls his fingers away from you as soon as he feels you beginning to clench around his fingers and you whine loudly.

“What was that for?” You say with a pout, kicking your feet and on the brink of throwing a tiny tantrum. Johnny laughs, bringing his fingers up to your face and forcing them into your mouth. You lick his fingers clean, sucking on them lightly and he smiles at you before pressing a kiss onto your nose.

“Good girl,” Johnny says in a low voice. “Don’t worry, princess, you’ll get to cum. I want to try something with you, though.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on the bedsheets and brings you in for a deep kiss. When he pulls away, you raise an eyebrow at him and he pets your head softly. “You want to try something new?”

Johnny nods. “You wanna 69?”

You let out a tiny gasp at his bluntness, but feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought. He laughs at your reaction, grinding his hips into yours and you can feel just how hard he is through his boxers. After thinking it over for a moment, you nod and Johnny gets into position, lying on his back and pushing his boxers all the way down. You get on top of his body, positioning your head just above Johnny’s dick, letting a trail of spit fall from your mouth and onto his tip. He groans at the feeling, hands gripping onto your hips and pulling your wet heat right to his face.

You wrap your lips around Johnny’s tip, hollowing your cheeks and sucking on it tightly. Johnny lets out a loud fuck, pulling your hips all the way down and licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance. The tip of his tongue pokes at your entrance and you begin to bob your head, slowly moving up and down and stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

He sucks your clit between his lips quickly and harshly, forcing you to moan around his dick. His tongue licks at your clit in quick strokes and you grind down onto him, chasing your orgasm from earlier. You pull your mouth off of his dick, using your spit as lube so you can stroke him quickly and resting your head on his thigh. You press your lips to the skin of his thigh, sucking the skin into your mouth to ease the sound of the moans coming out of your mouth. One of Johnny’s hands leaves your hip, two fingers slipping right into your wet heat as his mouth continues to abuse your clit. You bite onto his thigh, forcing Johnny to groan against your clit, and within seconds you’re falling apart around his fingers, clenching tightly as your hips stutter against his face and legs begin to tremble.

You release the skin of his thigh from your mouth, hand still stroking his dick so slowly he can barely feel it, panting as Johnny licks you through your orgasm. The sound of Johnny’s lips moving against you and tongue slurping forces a blush to rise on your cheek. the thought of someone walking past his room and hearing him eat you out coming into mind. Once you’re satisfied, you pull your hips away from him, thighs shaking violently as you try to hold yourself up over his body.

“You taste like candy,” Johnny says, licking his lips and delivering a harsh spank to your ass. “Do you think you can take another, babygirl?”

You nod, flopping onto the bed beside him and flashing a smile at him. “Are you even going to last?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to fuck you ’till the daylight, baby.” He steps off the bed, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Flip over, princess.”

“Yes, daddy,” you say jokingly, flipping over and pushing onto your hands and knees.

“Don’t say that,” Johnny says, pressing his tip against your hole. He pushes into you slowly and a moan gets caught in your throat at the feeling of his long, hard length sinking into you. You clench around him once he bottoms out and slaps your ass again.

“Why? You don’t like it?” You pause for a second. “Daddy?”

Johnny wastes no time, grabbing onto your hips and quickly thrusting in and out of you like his life depends on it. Your head falls onto the bed, your mouth hanging open and letting out a moan every time Johnny bottoms out and fills you completely. You start moving back, meeting each of Johnny’s thrusts as his hand travels from your hip, up your back, and digs into your hair. He pulls your hair, forcing your body up and off the bed and you let out a surprised scream at the feeling of Johnny tugging on your hair as his hips hit your g-spot repeatedly.

“You’re so fucking nasty,” Johnny says through groans as he thrusts into you harshly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is heard in the entire room, his bed frame hitting the wall with every thrust. “Jaemin and Jeno are right next door and here you are, letting them know how good you’re getting fucked. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

You shake your head ‘no’ as best as you can with Johnny still pulling your hair tightly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the mention of the younger boys. You clench around Johnny, and his hips falter for just a second before he’s back to his almost inhumane pace.

“J-johnny, I’m so close,” you say, clenching around him again. Johnny lets go of your hair, your upper body falling back down onto the bed, and his fingers move to rub your clit as he seemingly begins to thrust faster. 

“Come on, babygirl. Call out to them, give Jeno and Jaemin something to jerk off to tonight,” Johnny says, drilling into you and rubbing your clit harshly. 

You shake your head as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “I c-can’t, Johnny, I can’t.”

“Do it or I’m not letting you cum,” Johnny says, pinching your clit between his fingers, pushing you even closer to the edge. He angles his hips, tip perfectly hitting your spot and within seconds, you’re tumbling over the edge with a cry.

“F-fuck, Jaem-Jeno-o-Johnny, feels so good,” you babble, clenching tightly around Johnny’s dick as he continues to thrust, letting you ride out your orgasm. The feeling of you clenching around Johnny is enough to push him over the edge. He bottoms out, pulling your hips flush against his as he finishes in thick white ropes, filling you to the brim. You fall onto the bed, Johnny’s softening dick slipping out of you, and he crouches down to be level with your crotch. He watches as his cum begins to seep out of you, two of his fingers instinctively pushing it back into you.

“Too much,” you whine. Johnny laughs, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets. He slips into bed, pulling your body close to his. Your head rests on his bare chest, legs tangling with his as his arms wrap around you. He moves your hair out of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before letting out a satisfied sigh and sinking further into the bed. You close your eyes, snuggling into his side.

“I’m just going to take a quick nap,” you say.

“Quick nap? Baby, it’s nearly midnight, just go to sleep.”

“Nuh-uh. You said we’re going ‘till the daylight. Give me like 30 minutes and I’ll be good to go again.”

“You’re insane,” Johnny says with a laugh, his dick stirring at the thought of going for another around.

“You love it, though.”

“You got me there.”

[bangteamhyuk]

Seesaw (II)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: (NSFW! 18+) Car fingering while Yoongi drives, handjob, blowjob, cum licking/ spitting, Producer! Min Yoongi practicing SAFE SEX and ya’ll kids should do it too, mentions of bullying, suggestive abuse of power/ office boss being a d*ck, alcohol drinking and getting hammered, mention of sexist remarks, Seokjin being damn handsome AF just by walking in OC Y/N’s life like it’s okay because clearly it isn’t (I’m Jimin bias btw, I know you aren’t asking but I’m serving still) OC Y/N basically being unapologetically herself (living life in debauchery) and Yoongi knowing exactly what he needs in his damn life and he isn’t taking no for an answer.

Word count: 10,977k

SYNOPSIS: For months, you’ve been trying to hide your little crush on your neighbor who lives on the 18th floor. Until one night, you saw him drunk on the elevator with an empty bottle of Scotch, you asked if he maybe wants to have more of those in your place. And he did more than just agreeing.

Also thank you to these wonderful people: @flowerblu00​ @milkyshoooky​ @sugaaddiction​ 

“Of course, I’d love to….” you spoke low while taking a glass of water to drink. From the rims of the glass, you swore you could see Yoongi trying his best not to smile, playing it cool by pretending to struggle in picking the cooked meat from the grill. You bit the chopsticks to fight a smile, you must admit, that was pretty cute.

--

But Rush Hour. Of all the days you two choose to get laid was on Friday evening—a time where, unfortunately by default, everyone collectively decides to get laid as well. Thus, getting stuck in a sea of red lights. Needless to say, you two were bummed.

The traffic was so terrible, that it sucked you dry… literally. It’s as if a Dementor went around Yoongi’s car, found its way in, and unfashionably sucking you from underneath your seat. (Which by the way doesn’t look sexy at all. Seriously, who gets turned-on from that idea? Clearly not you) You were damn fine damp a minute ago, and now it felt uneventfully dry.

“You know what? This is ridiculous. I can see a motel nearby, why don’t we go there in the meantime?” you dramatically lamented from your seat. Yoongi, who was drinking iced coffee, almost choked to hear you declare your frustration so casually.

“Well, um…” he peered through the windshield “I can see the cars are moving in the next lane…”

“The motel is right over there” you pointed, emphasizing the short distance between the car and the building to his left.

He gulped “I uh-- I don’t like to take you to some sleazy motel. Besides, we have our own place” he starts counting by the finger “One, we don’t have to lie down on dirty sheets. Two, won’t clearly hear people moaning next door, and lastly no one’s gonna charge us by the hour…” facing you and concern

“Tell that to your friend who’s waning by the minute…” you pursed your lip pointing in his nether region. He instinctively closed his legs at your retort and chuckled “It’s fine, we’ll be fine… thanks for the genuine concern. Oh look, the light turned green! See, we’re moving?  I think the next lane is pretty lax...”

You can only huff as your dry reply.

As much as he wanted to leave with you right away and get to the nearest subway station the very moment you agreed, he couldn’t.  Because of all the days he decided to feel horny, he chose to go out with his car. He shut his eyes and dropped his head on the steering wheel to express his blowing resentment towards the cars, gradually becoming stationary on the said next lane. Thus, extinguishing any glimpse of hope that you two would arrive at his place, at an earlier time.

With an aching face, he wished that he could turn back the time and just to leave his damn car at the apartment building. Just so he could save his own balls from turning blue by the minute.

It was obvious that he was frustrated too, like you. Who wouldn’t? Being jammed in almost half an hour already? Still on the city street, barely moving? You had to deal with it.

Then it hit you: Yeah, why not deal with it?

However, you quickly realized that this may be a hit or miss. Not all people share the same interest or kink, but you were dying to have your back scratched, and so is he. So fuck it, you’re doing it.

You began to move your legs, slowly brushing it against Yoongi’s hand which was resting on the gear. He reacted, naturally. In fact, when the traffic light changed colors from red to green, he accidentally stepped on the gas pretty abruptly which partly shoved you down from your seat “Sorry…” furrowing his eyebrow apologetically, deep enough to find your pardon.

“It’s okay” fixing your hair from the center, and tucking it securely on your ears. Thankfully, you didn’t forget to put on a seatbelt, or else the plan you had in mind would have backfired. He sighed in relief, grateful that you accepted his apology.

Uncontented, you then pressed your hand on top of his. His hands suddenly turned cold as he tightened his grip on the gear, right before your touch. While you were certain that most men reacted positively to it, being open to a semi-public tryst, your expectations were not met. Instead, he cleared his throat and held your hands... held your damn hands.

He gently hit the brake as he approached another mob of halted cars on the next lane. Obviously flustered, he quickly moved his head to the side taking glimpses of whatever there was on his side mirror while withholding his smile. He momentarily pulled his hands away from you to shift his gear to neutral, then held your hands back. He even pushed his own finger in between its gaps and locked it. Locked your damn hands.

Slowly you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, not because your heart started to flutter, but because of your utmost disappointment at his response. This is clearly different from what you wanted to happen.

You took a mental note of the events and Yoongi’s actions, concluding that he was clearly a man who disliked beating around the bush. So, for the sake of being clear on your intention, you aggressively pulled his hand, opened his palms and let it slowly brush the skin hiding underneath your skirt.

He froze. Now you got his attention.

Nervously, he coughed on impulse. While his one hand remained clutched on the steering wheel and his eyes still focused on the road, the other hand was busy grazing your inner thigh. Surprisingly, he didn’t budge. He lets you take control, directing him where you want him to be while touching you gently. You then took his wrist, and guided his fingertips towards where you wanted it from the very beginning.

“Y/N, I just think it’s better if we wai---” for a moment, he had forgotten what he wanted to say to you next, because suddenly he felt his finger move to a place where he is afraid you'll lead it to-- your wet slit.

He swallowed, his mouth left ajar and brows lifted in absolute surprise. “Oh shit” was the only thing he could say.

Whining softly from your seat, he reluctantly moved his head to watch you introduce his fingers to the pleasure of your flesh. You then extended your arms, cautiously reaching for his legs and caressed it intently. His eyes blinked rapidly, as he turned his head back to face the road, refusing to look back. His mouth is still hanging from the air, as his head floats in uncertainty mixed with pure ecstacy.

No one asked but, really, this is what you meant by taking matters into your own hand.

It took him a minute to process what was happening, and as such, he began to return the favor. Now free from your control, he started pressing his finger on your sensitive bud and stroked it gently. He bit his lip right after he heard you moaned, “...Yoongi”

“Fuck” he suddenly saw the traffic light turn red to green. He slowly stepped on the gas pedal,  careful enough to prevent you being thrown from your seat again. He was now steering the wheel with one hand as he flicked your clit with the other at a steady pace. As acknowledgement on being gratified, you opened your legs wider.

He was game.

Yoongi briefly pulled his hands away from you to maneuver the car smoothly on the highway. He grunted at the view of another sight of flooded red lights. He wanted to get home so bad. All he could think of was to get on the bed with you with his cock finally warmed. But the highway had led this poor man’s dreams down in an instant.

Though, you refused to concede to the situation. You are willing to put up a fight against the status quo, ready to deny the world from preventing yours and Yoongi’s happiness from dying each second. Thus, like a good employee of this capitalistic world, you turn this deplorable event from liability to an asset: making this a great opportunity for you and Yoongi to bond closer. (Albeit, a different kind of bonding, that is)

As soon as he stepped on the brakes, you pulled out your seatbelt and moved towards his direction “Your car is heavily tinted right?” you asked while probing the cars around you from your window.

“Yeah, why?” He asked while putting back his hands to your slit, continuing to flick your bud, now significantly fast. You decided to turn it up a notch as you reached for the button of his pants. Slowly, unbuttoning it and pulling his zipper down. He started to pant, nervous to hear you reply.

“Safety first…” You then helped him shift the gear to neutral, and began pulling his pants and boxer roughly half way.

He groaned as he watched you grasp his stiff length, stroking it slow. “Is this what you meant when you asked if my car is tinted?” he quickly jerked his head up to check if the vicinity is safe, then briefly saw you nod your head to a ‘Yes’.

He choked when he sensed his tip poke on to your lips. It didn’t take a while for you to hear him moan when he felt his tip finally pressed the entrance of your mouth, gradually moving down on your tongue and on to your inner cheek. The warmth and wetness you’re giving him puts him in immediate joy.

He hissed at the sight of you taking him whole, and helped you fix your hair by putting it to the side, letting you breathe easy while you bob your head “Nngh… Y/N”

“Like that?” you part a bit and kissed his tip.

“Why do you keep asking the obvious?” he faintly chuckled as he tossed his head from his seat, right when he felt your tongue move from the bottom shaft and up to its head. Then quickly downed on him entirely again. His eyebrow creased automatically, as if contemplating today’s wisdom from the universe that all ‘good things come to those who wait’. He concentrated on that note like a mantra, as he shut his eyes tight.

Even when you were giving him a head, he was still kind enough to help you keep your hair away from your face. Holding it fairly light, trying not to pull. If this isn’t a gentleman thing to do, then I do not know what is.

“Y/N” He began sliding his two fingers in, which left you half giggling and panting at the immediate contact.

“Mm, you are doing me good hm?” you asked while stroking him slowly and watching his eyes closed, barely breathing as he mentally called to thank the universe for being blessed by you “You can add another finger if you want…”

“Damn, you are so hot…” His eyes then lit up, biting his lip and grinning with pride, thus displaying his perfect gummy smile that takes you to greater heights every time he does. “Yeah… I really appreciate your honesty, thank you for telling me you are horny” he replied as he prods his fingers in, progressively fast. Candidly making you clench and moan his name at the same time.

And like a good co-worker, you went back to hustle. Starting from the bottom to his top.

The tightness of your mouth in his shaft, the smell of your sweet perfume, the sound of his fingers squelching inside your very core, and the sight of you taking him whole, like a prized lollipop. Oh, and the fact that he pulled his (now) three fingers out from you to have a little taste…Yes, he nodded to himself. Licking every side of his fingers as if eating at KFC. Indeed, ‘it is finger licking good’.

It became apparent that all his senses were being satisfied when you finally felt him start to shiver. Everything was met, everything was good, everything became so overwhelming for Yoongi that even with his lids close, he can still see the light shine from heaven.

He gasped, leaving him marveled at your greatness by giving him a very good head. In fact, he found it so admirable that you start to feel him throb. Evidently, he is coming.

You were so good, that he barely withholds himself from coming. Along with the fact that he became unaware that his elbow accidentally hit the switch to dwindle down the window. “Fuck!” he writhed, thrusting his hip up spurting hard in your mouth.

“Yo, Casanova! Your windows are down!” The driver on the other side shouted.

His eyes widened, still sporadically shuddering from his high. “Shit!” He quickly pushed the button to raise his windows while his other hand pulled his pants and boxers up (at the least he managed to put his boxers up while in hurry, now 80% covering his ass) only it was too late.

Resisting to swallow his cum, you began to pull yourself up from your seat and look for a tissue stashed somewhere inside your bag. Upon seeing your head pop from below though, it didn’t take long for the other driver to discern what just happened.

“Nasty” was the last thing Yoongi heard from the grinning stranger before he finally put his window back up. Now completely shielded from his embarrassment.

Just then the traffic light turned red to green. Yoongi quickly hit the gas. Staying in this traffic was definitely the last thing he wanted to be in. He then thoughtfully swore to be mindful of his surroundings next time when another opportunity like this came, or maybe he would never (It’s too soon to decide)

But one thing is for sure, he swore he can never drive and see this road the same way ever again. Thanks to you.

--

A lilac lacy bra resting on his lampshade, matched silken panty hanging on the side of his headboard, black pants stuck in the middle of his bedroom door, an empty packet of condom on the edge of the bed, and his brief dangling, which managed somehow to reach on top his his TV.

Sitting with his legs crossed, his back resting on a pile of pillows with his hands supporting your weight. He happily watched you grind on him with great effort for a full whole blown minute. “Y/N” humming your name, in between his grunt.

“Yoongi” you recited his name in return like litany, hands gripping on his bare shoulders as you tossed your head back in trance.

“Fuck…” he began to propel his hips against you, meeting your every movement. One of his hands sneaked its way to your breasts cupping each and kneading it gently.

“Yoongi” you repeated, calling his name, spreading your legs wider to find your balance and continuing to roll your hips in synchrony with his. For a moment, the sound of slapping skin was all you could hear until it syncopated by his heavy breathing. He pushed himself close to you, hands now reaching towards your clit. Stroking and flicking it concurrently in full earnest.  

His head suddenly fell on to your shoulder, his gasp becoming audibly clear sending you into utter frenzy. In response, you pulled yourself back and began nibbling his ear, light and soft. He moaned. Yes, the kind that reverberates, delivering you to the edge. Thus reaching your high.

He snickered after hearing you whimper “For someone who initiated everything, I honestly thought you could last. I didn’t know just the sound of me moaning can send you to peak?”

With your mouth still open, you grimaced at his snide remark “Lie down, why don’t you? Let’s see if I can take you with me?”

“No need to, I’ll come any time soon” he tilts his head to the side and kisses you, simultaneously thrusting in haste. His sudden reflex jolts you in another course of delirium. As his movements became erratic, you held on tight to his shoulders taking it as a cue to give each other one final push to reach both your climax.

“Y/N…” He gagged as he squinted his eyes hard. Together, you both curse at the sensation, and deeply sighing together after hitting the zenith. You both lie down at the same time, panting. For a while it was silent, as if both of you were taking time to ponder on life in general like a hermit sage.

“…. Is this going to be a regular thing?” he suddenly asked, shifting on his bed to face the ceiling. Finally, he was asking the important question.

“Sure. You mean no strings attached right?” moving your body to face him.

He then pursed his lip to say something but quickly retracted. He figured he needed to ask it, so he just let it roll. A necessary query, he thought. “Is this going to be exclusive or….”

“Let’s not kid ourselves and make things easier for us, so no. Exclusive is quite foreign territory for me. Although I can still be monogamous, that is if you want it to… but don’t push okay? I can only go for a short period” you stretched your arm and rolled to the edge, taking the liberty to take his bottled water from the bedside table and drink.

“No, no, it’s okay. As long as we keep using protection, I guess that’s fine. We can see other people on the side, while we keep in touch? I think it’s a pretty fair deal…”

“It’s a good deal” you pointed out as he nodded in agreement.

“But what if one of us isn’t up for it any longer? Do we tell or do we not tell? Because honestly I’ll hope you’d pick the forme-- ”

“Latter” you quickly replied before he finished the word ‘Former’

He chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief with your reply.

“Fine, I can adjust. I totally understand that this isn’t just about me, so in all fairness, I’ll agree to your demands. But you have to agree with mine”

“That is?” He sat back up and pulled out his soiled condom, knotted it first before throwing it in the trash bin.

“Give me your number” you opened your palm to his direction

“Well, I thought you’d never ask” he picked up his cellphone he left from the edge of his bed, while you combed down on the floor to find yours. You two then exchange phones and enter each other’s number, and return it back. “That was easy” he raised one eyebrow smirking at you.

“With that, we can um… reach each other wherever, whenever” you pressed your lips together and gave him a smile.

He nodded “Sure, but only if you wanted”

“Only if you wanted it too” you replied, cordially mimicking his head.

“Everything sound’s good to me” he shrugged “So, Deal?” he stuck his hand out to you and you took it. “Deal” you both shook it, sealing the agreement.

--

Seesaw. It is one of your favorite playground activities. You enjoy the momentary high and the unpredictability of being dropped down. Although more than anything, you adore the power play. You get the euphoria from being intrigued, guessing each time who gets to take the upper hand.

You love taking predictions, you love calculating, but above all you love to wager. You wanted a brief scare from losing, only to shift the leverage to your favor. For you, Seesaw is a game of dominance. And in the game of dominance, of course you like to be the one in control.

Even when you were little you were so engrossed at that thought, obsessing to declare yourself to be the winner. You were so competitive, that it made you fall on a sandbox one time, when you were playing with your next-door neighbor, Hee-joon.

Seeing from afar, your father quickly ran to you and held you close for comfort. Although when he was dressing your bruises, you remember vividly how he warns you not to cry in front of boys, because little boys always relish seeing a weak girl cry. You always have to emerge as the victor at all times. Hence, you never did. Even now as an adult. You fight back, you always do.

That’s why Hee-joon grew up hating you, because the last time you two played Seesaw again, you managed to put him up above and watched him revel in the air. Until he realized you refused to put him back down, not until he cried. You watched him weep and plead above you. Only then you decided to put him down when his mother came. To say the least, your mother was upset with your action, but your father felt proud.

Seesaw is the game that taught you how to take the highs and lows, but more than anything, it taught you how to be the one in supreme.

Every time you deal with men, you remember every word your father told you. As such, when you reached the epiphany that love is nothing but just an illusion, you decided to take things to the sheets instead. You’d rather be engulfed with pleasure rather than unnecessary emotions under the guise of romance.

And yet, somehow deep within you, you were too scared to admit the rationale why you vehemently refuse to lose. Because at the time when you fell and your father ran to you, you saw it in his eyes. He was looking at you, fearful to see someone he loves dearly be in so much pain. He was terrified to let you know how far the depths of a wound can go, until you can no longer feel… and you’re afraid to know it too.

It is the precise reason why, right now, you are watching Yoongi cover his face on a Sunday morning. Leading him to his high, watching him revel in absolute bliss, under him… literally. Yoongi pleaded for you to stop giving him another god-tier head, and let him breathe easy, before you could deliver him any further to his overdrive. While you indeed followed his plea by halting, you decided to tease him a little by pulling yourself up from the covers and went on top of him. You took his wrist and pressed his palms against your bare chest.

“Wait” he paused as he sat up and furtively looked for a condom in his drawer. “Thank God, we still have one last…” he pulled out the shiny foil packet. You took it from his hand and helped him put the rubber on.

And just like that, Yoongi again was on a roll. For the past few weeks, neither of you resisted sex. Monday night? On your couch. Wednesday? On his kitchen counter. Friday after work? Inside his car on a dark alleyway. Saturday night? Inside his shower. Now Sunday, back on his bed.

Sex with Yoongi is great, but you already expect that.

But just like a play of Seesaw, you know that this kind of arrangement will definitely have some highs and lows. You know that one day, you and Yoongi’s sex drive will decline, frequent calls will become rare, until it’s gone. So, keep them coming right? Not that you are worried, but really what is there to lose? Especially if the sex is good and you two are on an equilibrium, like that in the game.

Well, not until Friday.

---

“Hey, good work!” someone tapped your shoulder lightly after closing the meeting room, you turned around to see who it was.

“Oh, Hoseok. Thanks!” you grinned, happy to see one of your best friends attend your team’s presentation for a Cereal Company. You’ve known Hoseok since college, and even worked with him on your first job. Even if both of you left and went to a different company now, you two still find time to catch up. It just so happens that you two are now working on the same project.

Dipping your head a little low, you whispered to his direction “I was genuinely surprised to know you work for this company, I thought you hated their cereals?”

“Unfortunately, beggars can’t choose” he replied softly as you nodded in agreement, while walking with him on the office hallway towards the elevator lobby “Great to know they promoted you as the Event’s Manager huh?”

“As long as they pay me well, I can manage whatever shit the world throws at me,” you said, twitching your lip to the side and shrugging, making Hoseok hysterical.

“Cheers to being a slave for money”

“Cheers” you both tossed an imaginary goblet from each of your hands when suddenly, you heard your phone buzzing, so did his. Both of you stopped from the elevator lobby to read the message. You rolled your eyes “Seems your boss and my boss are going to announce their engagement?”

He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure they’re straight, Y/N. But I can’t come to this ‘Night After-Work Drink’…” he put his phone back in his pocket after reading it.

“Aw, C’mon it’s going to be the weekend tomorrow! Plus, I’m going to introduce you to my colleagues, we’ll have fun! Just come, let’s go Hoseok! Don’t leave me alone, please?” you whined before him, trying your hardest to convince one of your closest friends to come by using your pleading charm.

Hoseok just stared at you and breathed.

“Why? Have you not forgiven me for that time I accidentally left my hairbrush on your car and your ex thought you were cheating on her? Hence, leaving me now on my own to suffer?”

You stepped forward to face Hoseok before he could enter the elevator with you.

He rolls his eyes “Still dramatic as always. I told you, that’s been long forgotten. Besides, I am dating someone new”

“Oh” you said inaudibly, finding Hoseok slightly displeased with your overly critical reaction.

“Hey, I know that face!” he narrowed his eyes while expressing his distaste to see your silent retort “And no, I have no plans in introducing you to her… Yet! Not until we’ve established whatever we are” he continued while pressing the elevator to the ground floor.

“Hm, still sounds trouble to me”

“We’ve only known each other for a week, Y/N. Give her some slack.”

“Then why are you cancelling extra working hours? When can you drink to your heart's content, hm? Beer will taste good, especially if you’re not the one paying” you bobbed your brows and smug “Just admit it Hoseok, she got you wrapped around her fingers. I told you, you can’t do this on a regular. Women like a little chase…”

“First of all, we’re not paid to kiss ass. Second, you also hated the idea of having to go there too and third, she’s not like you…”

You opened your mouth, clearly taken aback to hear his remark. Hoseok quickly clarified “I meant to say, you’re frighteningly the almost perfect girl…but she’s not the fooling type.”

“That’s what we all say, that’s what we all want you to believe Hoseok...” You retort incredulously “it’s better be uncompromising forthright than give you false hope. Go choose!”

Hoseok sighed deeply “Look, one day you are going to meet someone who will probably prove to you that not all men are shit.” he said while crossing his arms and stared at you, admonishingly.

“I already did. I have you” you pouted. The elevator stopped as Hoseok waited for you to step out first then followed.

“Besides me” leading you now to his car in the parking lot. His eyes flickered as he remembered something… or someone “Know what? there’s Seokjin-hyung”

“Oh, you mean Seokjin the half-god from the Film Department, in our Uni? Seokjin is infinitely out of question. Have you seen his latest drama on TV? Park Bo-gum even sent a coffee truck to congratulate him” You sighed resentfully.

“How’d you know?”

“Instagram. Okay don’t judge”

Hoseok chuckled, stopping at his car to turn it open with his car keys “I clearly am doing it right now”

“Technically, he is untouchable. You’ve seen how the girls reacted then when they saw me and him together on a couch? When we were literally just talking about Chinese Philosophy class during that frat party. And like some teen-romcom movie, rumors started to fly the next day and they multiplied by the hour” You opened the door to his passenger seat and secured yourself with a seatbelt.

“Easy A. It’s Easy A.” He stressed as he entered and adjusted the side mirror’s on the driver’s seat .

“The difference between you and Seokjin are that we’re friends… and he and I just happened to be in one class”

He starts the engine of his car, offering to drive you all the way to the bar where your team is having this week’s celebration “My point is… theoretically speaking, that there are men who are as nice, like he is. Plus, he knows those nasty rumors weren’t true. Won’t you forgive those girls?”

“They’re basically my creators? Shouldn’t this present slut thank them instead?”

“You and I both know you were once a college prude, and you never slept with any of those rumored men… Seokjin-hyung knows the truth. Even if he was conscripted to the list, unlike other men who took advantage of that, he fervently denied”

“Because that’s the truth. We never slept, Hoseok. Above every one, you know I didn’t have the guts. Wow, I am still not sure whether to feel offended or happy about it. Am I not worth it?”

“Y/N, seriously? Seokjin’s a true gentleman, that’s it. That’s the tea. I can even swear he was into you that time, until her groupies held an emergency meeting to evilly conspire against you… I’m actually glad they’ve been dealt with. This is why we can’t have nice things”

“Hoseok, okay, granted that he and I ended up dating each other back then… It is still going to fail because lov-- ”

He started to turn on the radio, loudly “What? I can’t hear you! Know what? Have a talk with your pessimism when you get to the bar. Here, I’ll even give you extra money so you could offer it a few more drinks” he pulled a few coins from his pocket and handed it over to you.

You chuckled, batting your eyes to his direction “Aw, ever the romantic Hoseok. Well, keep them I’ll collect it soon enough”

“She is going to be great, Y/N. Don’t jinx it!”

--

“Fuck capitalism!” your boss shouted.

“Fuck capitalism!” you all repeated and shouted it while drinking another shot all together.

“Y/N! Lara! Do that soju bomb thing together!” Your boss suddenly made his way to sourpuss the night by ordering you two to do a party trick which is gravely against your will.

Lara gave you a look and you just shrugged, telepathically and ironically accepting defeat from capitalism itself, by giving in at your boss’s request. You two were compelled to act normal as if nothing happened. Honestly, no one really needs to know about you, her, and canker Joe. As a matter of fact, you don’t want anyone to know that you tried to sleep with canker Joe from your office. Besides, didn’t Lara hide the fact that he was seeing Joe too? Maybe she was too embarrassed about him as well. Regardless, he is definitely a thing in the past and should be kept inside a box, six-feet underground for good.

“Hey!” Lara plastered a smile and handed you the glasses, as usual, to prepare both your famous tricks.

“Hey, hey!” you faked cheered as well as you helped her open more beers to spray on each glass, half filling the glass. Lara then filled each shot glass with a fair amount of soju, while you meticulously placed them strategically close so by the time you shove one, the other shot glass would follow like dominoes (dropping to beer glass like a bomb).

This never fails to amaze your boss for some reason, to see you two do it each time, much to you and Lara’s chagrin. Truthfully, if you’re being asked, you two would wish you weren’t forced to entertain anyone outside office just to have a favorable treatment by the day.

“Y/N” your boss called as he pulled out a newly opened bottle of soju to your direction, handing out your glass politely to him as a reflex. “You really did a great job with your presentation; I really like it! Don’t be too shy alright? You deserve to celebrate!”

“Thank you, sir,” you turned away from his direction and downed the alcohol in one go, respectfully showing everyone on the table that you’ve accepted the harsh reality of the need to kiss ass so you could get cash.

“Too bad, Hoseok’s not here. He’ll probably have fun” Hoseok’s boss, who joined your team, commented while watching you have another at your boss’s behest. You nodded to his direction, to feign agreement. Considering the amount of alcohol he could bear in a single night, of course not, he definitely would not have fun.

“Y/N” someone murmured on the table, after your boss moved his attention to the recently hired employees. You turned around and saw Lara staring at you “Y/N” she repeated.

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow clearly befuddled to hear her and have your attention.

“I know you can’t handle alcohol well, just gently decline next time he offers. He has more people to oppress now” she lowered herself so you could hear her clearer and puck her lips subtly to point at the poor new recruits.

“Oh, I thought you said you didn’t want to be friends with a slut like me? Are we also going to pretend I didn’t hear that too?” you whispered back

“Whatever, just don’t come hurling at everybody and then throw up”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you”

She was right. She’s always right. By the time you downed an nth shot of soju or whatever it is they gave you (and add that fancy cocktail you wanted to try on their menu) your surroundings gradually revolve and appeared hazy. Somehow, you decided to take drunken shots of the bar and record random moments for you to post something on your social media account. Nothing too wild or nasty, just enough to flash for your friends online that you were having a great time on another Friday night.

“Y/N, is it okay if you come with me to the restroom and help with something?” Lara asked distinctly from her seat, loud enough to hear your superiors to cut you lose from drinking.

You nodded submissively, plopping down from the stool and followed Lara. By the time you two arrived at the girl’s restroom you quickly went into the nearest cubicle and threw yourself against the toilet and vomited.

“I told you so, even Hannah Montana can’t get the best of both worlds. Y/N, stop acting tough.” She crouched down and held your hair up while patting your back.

“I’m feeling fantastic Lara!” you deadpan reply while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay, you are welcome” she rolled her eyes while burrowing something from your bag, then you heard something thud. Suddenly everything went blank.

--

The smell of musk, leather and a little bit of smoke. The feeling of the heat of a skin nudging on your nose. Your hands pressed against someone else’s chest, and the air breezing under the soles of your feet, as if you were levitating. You blinked your eyes twice and opened it wide from your stupor… finding yourself in the middle of the busy street of Itaewon.

You shook your head a little and realized you were resting on someone’s back. “Don’t move too much, you are starting to get heavy?” said someone in a timbre filled with objection.

You knew that voice, and you knew that scent too well too “Yoongi?” you asked weakly.

“Are you gonna throw up? Just tell me…”

“Yoongi, why are you…” you shook your head, that wasn’t the right question “Why are we here?”

“You butt-dialled me, it’s been so long since you called so I thought you’d invite me over but I only heard random noises then it ended… Until you began sending me weird pictures in the dark. So, I was kind of worried and called… But it was your officemate who answered and just told me to come pick you up”

“My what?” you asked, trying to process everything you heard.

“Know what? You’re too drunk to have this conversation and so I’m just going to take you home. Don’t move too much, you are slipping” he paused for a moment while he jerked to keep him adjusted to the weight that he is carrying. “Cutie from the 18th floor huh?” you heard him snickered as he asked.

“You saw my phone?”

“No, your officemate told me. Actually she asked me if I was ‘Cutie from the 18th floor?’ She apologized instantly because she didn’t know how to address me when I came to the bar to pick you up”

“Okay, that’s it. Put me down!” you tried to shimmy your body away from him

“Are you sure about that? She took your shoes from you; said she’ll leave it on your desk tomorrow”

“God…Must be Lara…”

“Is she the best friend you told me about before?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s worried about you”

“Mmm. Right.” You shut your eyes from the blinding neon lights passing from your sight.

“…Hold on to me tight” he reminded, as you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him while he trudged with you on his back.

In clear disorientation, right in the midst of the crowd, you wonder—why above all things, he is carrying you home without any question. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed while clutching on his chest a little bit tighter. You rest your head again on his shoulder, burrowing your nose on the fabric of his shirt. (Not to be weird, but if someone demanded what you’re doing at a gun point you wouldn’t think twice confessing that he genuinely smells so good, and that’s the whole reason) Somehow, whatever this was, it made you feel at ease.

And he wasn’t complaining.

--

“Y/N…Y/N” Yoongi rouse you from your mini-slumber “We’re here, we’re at your front door” He gently put you down on the floor and help you stand upright, waiting for you to enter your apartment so he could drop you home with his conscience at peace.

You crouched down and narrowed your eyes while pressing on the numbers on your door lock, offering it with great effort.

‘Access Denied’ it buzzed.

“Shit!” cursing on your poor concentration to get it right.

Yoongi sighed “Whisper me the number code, and I’ll do it for you”

“What? And enter any time while I’m sleeping?” you replied while unnecessarily glaring at him.

“Okay, that’s it… I can leave you here or you can stay at my place…” he put his waist on each side of his waist, like an old lady giving you an ultimatum.

“Fine... it’s wait…” You pointed a finger to Yoongi and pulled out your phone, pressing down the number sequence on the screen but in full labor. Yoongi, who was losing the endmost ounce of his patience, finally pulled you up to drag you back to the elevator lobby of your floor.

“Okay, okay, it’s 5991!” you spoke harshly, demanding him to put you down. Yoongi quickly turned around, to see if anyone heard. Fortunately, no one was around your hallway to hear you blurt your code so casually. He then swiftly pressed the numbers and opened your door and pulled you in.

“Oh! I forgot my RFID is on my wallet” you raised your hand belatedly after being dragged by Yoongi inside your apartment “Wait, what? You could’ve told me this earlier!” he groaned in utmost frustration, while helping pull your blazer off and beginning to question his choices in life.

“Yoongi” you grin at him with your eyes barely open “it’s been a while yeah? I miss your cock! Let’s have sex!” you squeaked quite happily. He then dropped you pretty harshly on the bed, not that you mind since you were too inebriated to care. “Mmm. Are you into rough play tonight Mr. Hit-song Producer, sir?” You reached for him, tracing your fingers against his shirt.

“I’m not…” he replied directly, rejecting your advances while he turned away from you busily searching for something. “… unfortunately for you miss, I don’t get turned on with drunken girls on the bed. Scurry over and try to seat on your back on the head board”

Obediently, you followed his demands despite not making sense, or at least because you are too drunk to comprehend anything. You shut your eyes waiting for him to do something to you until you felt something damp on your face “Yoongi?” you slowly opened your eyes.

“I am taking the liberty…Close your eyes” he asked sternly. It was beginning to make sense now.

“Are you helping me clean up?” you asked, feeling him gently brush your eyes with a damp facial cotton. “How’d you know which one is a makeup remover?”

“I’m not dumb, Y/N. I can read” he adjusted himself to mildly take your mascara off you. Flustered, you begin to turn your head slightly away from him. As if in a snap, the effect of alcohol was beginning to wane. Just because of the thought that Yoongi was doing things for you that you never expected. “Y/N, look I’m trying!” he clicked his tongue by pressing his thumb and index finger on your chin, securing you steadily “I heard, it’s not good to sleep with a makeup on… there’s a good chance you’ll turn blind from bacteria build-up if this is left unclean for hours”

“Says, who?” trying to dissipate the towering feeling of being embarrassed. “Your ex?”

“No, the idols I get to work with who came in late. They were trying to justify their tardiness because of their face after a night of drinking. Honestly, who cares? They have a lot of fans who love them”

“It’s a girl thing, you’ll never understand”

Smoothing another batch of damp cotton on your cheeks, he finished the conversation by telling you “Well, I do. You are pretty even without it…” he said while dabbing one last time on the side of your lips until you felt his thumb pressed on the edge of your lips.

Yoongi froze, did he just? He started to wonder. You slowly opened your eyes to see his face close to yours, just a few inches away from each other's lips. He cleared his throat and immediately shifted himself away from you again, keeping distance. “Good night, Y/N”

You watched him turn his back and dimmed the lights off your room, leaving only with a soft glimmer from your bedside lamp. Feeling stunned at the chain of events, you cowered down to see your clothes still on and your chest beating heavily. You jerked and shook your head reminding yourself that ‘No, we refuse to be your victim, Yoongi’. Then you felt it, clearly your body is still jaded, realizing on its own that you still had too much alcohol in your system. So, you tried to hurry over to your bathroom, only to find your face falling flat on the floor.

Gratefully, Yoongi hasn’t completely left you yet. When he heard, he abruptly went to check on you in your room. “Just how many have you had?” he helped you up and hiked you over to the toilet. You immediately hurled yourself to it and threw whatever you had in you. He groaned mournfully, while patting your back. He knew the answer to his queries, he’s going to need to stay by your place for the night.

And he did, but on your couch. He thought, it would be awkward to be placing himself beside you on your bed if you two are not having sex. Thankfully, your couch had enough space for him to lie down, yet he couldn’t seem to find his sleep. Not when he began questioning himself as to why you had him worried for the night, he shifts to the side staring blankly on your ceiling deeply sighing at the thought. He wished he knew.

--

The sound of fizzle, the touch of your dried lips, and the scent of butter, emanating from the kitchen towards your room. All of those, woke your senses. You looked at your phone and find it’s 7am on Saturday. Normally, Hoseok would gladly walk into your apartment to send you over hung-over foods, but guessing at the fact that he’d be with a lady friend you assumed he’d be unavailable for you in a time of need…. And cooking? Hoseok cooking? For the longest time you two had been together as friends, he never once attempted to put himself in the kitchen. So what changes?

You took your satin robe and swiftly wrapped it around to see who it was in your kitchen. You ran out of your room with a pillow on your hand and shrieked at the familiar figure. It was Yoongi cooking in your kitchen

He pulled out his airpods and asked “What, were you calling me?”

“No, I just… I didn’t expect you’d still... be here…Are you cooking?”

“Um, yeah, why are you always asking the obvious?” he knitted his brows, eyes darting from left to right, perplexed to even answer your query. “Look, why don’t you sit down and let Chef Min do the cooking for today”

You silently sat on your island stool and watched him prepare food. “Is this what you do to everyone you sleep with?”

He stifled a smile and pursed his lips to think. “I wish I did. Unfortunately, no. Just you, for now”

You folded your arm and poked your tongue from the inside of your cheek “Well you can’t do this…”

“Huh?” He asked with his back to you, busily chopping more onions and garlic then mixing it to the cooking pan.

“Rules.”

“Rules? What part of the agreement is cooking prohibited? If my memory serves me right, you failed to mention it, so I guess this is pretty legal”

“Okay, fair point. Then why are you doing this? On my apartment, on my kitchen, on my food? Is it all for me?”

Yoongi was taken aback, but he needed to answer promptly “What, you think I’m starting to like you more than a neighbor… with benefits?” he scoffed “Such confidence, woman” he turned around to snicker, playfully flailing his arm with a cooking chopstick on hand.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help it” you merrily bemoan in retrospect and shrugged. “Didn’t you say you’ve always fancied me?”

“Naked, I fancied you naked” he corrected.

“I don’t know, sounds the same to me” You watched him perfectly toss the food while cooking, like a pro. “Hmm, impressive. Are you trying to make me weak on my knees?”

“Well, are you?” he asked stoically, as he turned the stove off and finally served you a hung-over breakfast he made out from the ingredients available in your refrigerator.

“Almost, but not quite” you playfully bite your lip, fretfully eating your smile.

“You’re welcome for the breakfast Y/N” he winked, putting his share on a plate and sat on a stool right in front of you.

“Thank you, Chef Min Yoongi” you ducked your head, to tamper down whatever you were feeling in the morning. You weren’t a prayerful person but today you decided to whisper one from your seat. You needed it, a whole of it, before chowing down your freshly cooked food made by the Chef himself in front of you. Testing you by the minute.

He watched you while you shut your eyes and chant something inaudibly, and without you knowing-- he smiled.

--

“Min PD nim?” one of the staff knocked on his door. Yoongi, as usual, was busy listening to the tracks he made from last week now that it is back to being Monday again.

“Han Young-woo-ssi said he wanted to talk to you sir…”

“Oh, what about?” He abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

“It sounded like it’s a personal matter sir… so I didn’t ask him any further. He is waiting outside your office sir, would you like me to tell him to come back after lunch?”

He shook his head “No-no, it’s fine. I am a little bit stressed too, I was just looking for the right lyrics to the melody but maybe talking to him might help” he went out from his seat and decided to see his visitor from the same company but in the Accounting department. Was it about his demands against the company for paying for his daily coffee needs? Or was it about denying his request to fund him for another set stereos?

“Yoongi! My friend!” Young-woo delightedly extends his arm to give him a quick hug and pat on his back.

“Hey Han!” he sat on the couch and Young-woo followed, sitting on a chair adjacent to Yoongi.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I saw you last Saturday night in the streets of Itaewon”

He chuckled “Yeah, I decided to do some carrying as part of my daily workout routine”

Young-woo nods solemnly “I know the person you were carrying. She’s bad news…”

He furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment to comprehend the sudden change of his tone.

“I knew her from college, she’s been sleeping with a lot of men... maybe until now. Just avoid her if you can. She might give you STDs or something… Just stop Yoongi. I don’t know if it’s because she slept with Seokjin? Which probably made her impertinently bold and decides to slut around”

Yoongi thwarted him from finishing his sentence. “Seokjin? You mean Kim Seokjin?”

“Yes, your high school best friend and my frat brother, Seokjin. Did he never tell you about her?”

“He mentioned a few girls, but I don’t remember her being mentioned at all.”

“Well, I guess it’s because she’s not worth mentioning”

Yoongi pressed his fingers on his temple “Do you really see girls that way, Young-woo?”

Young-woo was left fazed at his question “I-Uh…”

“Cut to the chase Young-woo, I have a lot of things on my table. It’s not my cup of tea to entertain sexist conversation especially during working hours…”

“I’m just warning you. As friend, that’s it”

“Well, if that’s all there is” He stood up and tilted his head, locking his gaze against Young-woo fervently “I’m an adult who knows exactly what I’m doing. It’s none of your business who I want to deal with day and night, unless it’s about work. I appreciate you being worried and all, but clearly at the end of the day I’ll be responsible with who and when I’ll be fucked and who gets to fuck me over.”

Young-woo conceded and sighs from his seat “I love your tenacity, my friend. But she is different from the girls you used to date, especially your ex” he stood up and walked towards the hallway

Yoongi just nodded. “Okay, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Past remains in the past. Live in the present brother, worry about your future... not mine. Well there goes the exit door, if that’s really all you have to say to me. I don’t like entertaining sexism as a visitor” he points him through the exit door as he watches Young-woo leave.

He rolled his eyes, regretting the fact that he gave Young-woo his precious time so conveniently, just to listen to a back story he was clearly uninterested in. What’s the point really? If everyone is living now in the present, what’s there to huddle over in the past? One thing’s for sure, he’s going to spend a few more minutes at the receiving area to look at his phone and find some inspiration over his social media.

Randomly scrolling, he ended up in Seokjin’s profile, entertaining himself with his random pictures with witty captions, illustrations of cute alpacas and his daily dad jokes on his Instagram stories. His eyes suddenly widened when he shifted it to the next photograph and saw a familiar face from Seokjin’s story.

“Was it true?” he breathed.

--

“Yeah, that sounds about right, I assure you Madame Song. Tomorrow is going to be epic” you nodded.

“I’m looking forward to it Ms. Y/N” she giggled, standing up from her seat, ready to leave.

You did the same and bowed before your client, displaying your gratitude and respect. You took a quick glance from the window beside the seat and saw the sun glaring hard on the pavement “Are you sure, is it really okay if you leave right now? Didn’t you say you just had your facial? The sun is pretty hard. Do you at least have an umbrella?”

“Oh, do you? Sorry I forgot mine, can I borrow? I promise to return it to you tomorrow” she asked a bit warily. Of course, they never do.

“Sure” you pulled out your foldable umbrella from your bag and handed it to her.

“Thanks dear. Oh, if you must, bring your plus one” she winked.

You dropped your head and chuckled “C’mon Madame Song, you know I don’t do plus one. I’ll ask Lara to cover that for me instead”

She paused. Her attention was momentarily stolen by something, or someone in front of the cafe window “Well, why don’t you go ask him?” she puckered her lips and pointed out towards the man entering inside the café from its door way.

“What?” you chuckled in disbelief “I can’t just go ask a random stranger and tell-- ” you turned around to see who she was referring to, until you stopped mid-sentence choking on your words.

A man in black shirt, black leather jacket, and a black baseball cap? It must be….

“Seokjin?”

He turned around to see who was calling him “Y/N?” He raised both his brows in genuine surprise.

“Mm...Seems, everything’s pretty planned out now don’t you think?” Madame Song whispered to you close before leaving you on your own. Grinning from ear to ear, knowing she made a lucky guess to find you a prospect date, who isn’t after all a stranger.

“Hey, it’s been so long! It’s nice to see you here!”

“Must be cupid’s work, huh?” Madame Song winked at you both as she left the cafe with your umbrella. You shook your head a little, embarrassed to hear her tease. Then faced the half-god handsome man before you.

You sat back on your chair and offered Seokjin the vacant seat on the front.

“Hm, I honestly don’t know what to say to that, are you working? Was she a client?” he watched you write something down on your planner for a moment.

“Yeah, and we just finished” you clicked the pen and threw your arms up to stretch “and now I can relax. What’s up Kim?”

“Ikseon-dong is where I usually take my walk for coffee and look for inspiration.I like it here, it’s traditional and yet still a very relevant place” he turned around to look at the menu board, attached above on the counter.

“Ah, I see you’re working too…” you nodded. “You know their dirty chai latte is pretty good.” You pointed it out. “So, how’s your agency treating you? I’ve seen you in TDN channel the other night, and got to the scene where you were crying after being left by Park Shin Hye… that was pretty moving”

He laughed with his eyes wrinkling, charming as always. “It was hard convincing myself to cry over a fictional argument revolving over me leaving a Peanut Butter open for long...”

“In her defense, she thought you were cheating on her over Yoon Eun Hye. But before replying to that, tell me who you will end up with, is it her or Yoon Eun Hye? Because if you asked me Yoon Eun Hye might be evil, but I totally understand where she's coming from. So yeah, I’m Team Yoon Eun Hye all the way!” You lowered yourself on the table and leaned towards him.

He squints his eyes and went forward “Not if you watch until the last episode, or you could bribe me with the most expensive thing on the menu”

You shot at him and sighed “Fine, you leave me no choice Mister Celebrity, sir. One Eggs Benedict and House Coffee, on me” he chuckled, knowing fully that those were the cheapest on the menu.

“It’s nice to know you didn’t change at all, Y/N” he gulped and smiled at you.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be disappointed if you found it to be untrue.” You stood up and ordered something for your old flame, well almost… or so you would like to think, if it wasn’t for his groupies who extinguished before it even began.

You two tried to catch on a lot of things, while taking a few photos together. Seokjin has an insane amount of following, compared to the number he had back in college (but was still considerably huge). Yet he wasn’t bothered at all, he still posted whatever he pleased.

Although he was now hyper-aware of everything online, especially the fact that some things might get him in trouble or even getting others into trouble. He made sure to explain things about what was happening in his caption before posting anything. Just to spare them from unnecessary and unfounded hate from his fans.

“Fancy bumping to a college friend *insert smiley emoji*” he said out loud while mindlessly typing it as he hit the post button.

“Why didn’t you put a sticker on my face?”

“Why should I? I already spare you from being tagged. That way, you can still keep your identity hidden, but this face?” He pouts “Too pretty to be kept away”

You blushed, abruptly shaking your head ready to say something as your defense retorted “Is this your way to get in my pants, now that you’re some big shot?”

He folds his arms and twitches his lips to the corner “You thought so lowly of me, I could’ve dated you. Should’ve asked you out 11 years ago, but I didn’t because I was afraid you’d get in to trouble because of me… yet, still you did”

You paused for a moment. “Seokjin. I—”

He batted his eyes and smiled “That night at the frat party, I was about to ask you... but chickened out last minute. I should be the one saying sorry, Y/N. I wish I was there for you; I could only imagine what your college life might have been. How are you holding it?”

You croaked, left momentarily speechless at the sudden revelation that was gradually unfolding before you “I—I’m fine. Thanks to Hoseok, my life from there became bearable. I’m sure he’s the one who shut all the people who were spreading rumors, he just wouldn’t tell”

He nods. “What if he truly wasn’t? Like maybe, somebody other than Hoseok did it for you?”

“You?” you opened your mouth in disbelief.

“It’s the least I could do. Besides, I’m partly to blame '' His phone suddenly buzzed as he pointed a finger to excuse himself for a moment to receive it. “Hey baby, yeah. I’m just here in Ikseon-dong? I’m in “Flower Yard Cafe” Meet? Where?... Okay. I love you, see you in a bit”

You lump on your lips, suppressing a chuckle. For a moment you thought you had a chance with Mr. WorldWide Handsome himself, but man you were eons late. Certainly, there are many times you want to hurl yourself over him regardless if he actually wants you too.

You were then so close to not giving any more damn to the ladies who would build a fort to push any of his prospects away. Yet maybe that’s how the world works, maybe you don’t deserve all the nice things because that’s how you were designed to live your life… or maybe it’s how the world chastises you for choosing to live a life in debauchery. Either way, You and Seokjin will never happen. That’s pretty much engraved in your destiny, if that’s not obvious enough.

“I’m sorry I got to go, my girlfriend’s having a fit”

“Hm, maybe you should delete your post about us?”

“Girl, you think I’m doing this for you? I want to annoy the girls who shit on my chance with you…”

You laughed. “Hm. Openly flirting with me still? You are playing on dangerous water, sir… How about we try next life Kim, yeah?”

“Ofcourse, just don’t get swoon with my face alone when that happens.”

You nodded in between chuckles as you bid goodbye and watched him leave the cafe. You began fixing your things and putting everything on your handbag when suddenly you heard the sound of drizzle.

“Ugh, should’ve known! That blaring sun definitely looks like it’s gonna invite rain soon... I gave my umbrella to Mrs. Song!” you complained to no one, whining softly from your seat.

Not wanting to spend another hour inside, especially when you needed to send a few paperwork to your boss for a report, you decided to just throw yourselves over the harsh rain “Know what? Fuck it, let’s just run and get wet again” you pushed the door away from you, ready to run while holding on to your handbag that was barely covering your head.

As the door swiveled far, you began to notice that the rain that was supposed to be falling over your head wasn’t just…there. You turned around and found Yoongi. His arms extended to you, holding an umbrella for you. You watched him smile despite slightly getting showered.

“Yoongi?”

“Why are you always asking the obvious? Hey Y/N” He scooted over inside the umbrella, arms pressing and pulling you close to him. His free hand held on to the handle slightly tilted, making sure you remained dry than he is. You stood there, completely frozen. Too stunned to see him at a time when you needed someone.

“You certainly like to get wet often, huh?” he snickered, trying to diffuse the momentary silence.

“It depends on the situation… I-uh… what are you doing here?”

“I was just having a walk. The weather looks good” he subtly gulped, eating his lie. After seeing you on Seokjin’s instagram, he immediately called and asked where he was. Seokjin, knowing Yoongi fully for years, did not bother to ask any more questions as he simply answered where he is currently located.

“Oh yeah?” you tilt your head to look at the dark sky.

“Well, it was, until it suddenly started to rain. Where are you headed?”

“Back in my office, just a few blocks from here. You?”

“What a coincidence, I am too”

“You also work there?” you chuckled

He rolled his eyes and sighed “Okay you got me, just let me take you there unscathed. I’ll go back to strolling around the city  looking for inspiration for the song I am working on. But until then, I have to see you get there, so that I could put myself at ease knowing you went to your work completely dry.”

“Aw, that is so gentleman of you. You better credit me when you find that inspiration you were saying” you playfully teased, knowing fully well you’ll give zero contribution to his work.

He chuckled. Making you suck an air to see another gummy smile from him, which he is very frugal of him to do.

“Perhaps I will,” he shrugged, smiling weakly as he faced the street. You swiftly turn to face him, bewildered to see his sincere intent. Will he really? Thoughts were starting to run around your head.

Clearly, when was the last time you’ve been held by a man? Was it yesterday during sex with Jinyoung a fellow regular from the cafe next to your office? Or was it during a dodgeball game during 8th grade where Taecyeon, your crush pulled you away from getting hit by a ball? Or perhaps the time when your father took you in his arms when you got bruised? You could no longer remember, because right in the middle of the rain, underneath the transparent umbrella, you watched the rain fall while Yoongi was there holding you in his arms…and that was all you could think.

For the very first time, you felt safe and secured. It was warm and seemed full of ardent affection. You failed to put words into what you were feeling, because evidently you had nothing on it from your catalog for inner feelings. Yoongi remains to hold onto you close, while continuing to walk on the streets under the heavy rain... And you yielded unto him.

The feeling was so foreign and novel that you were starting to feel scared. You are so afraid of the feeling of this unfamiliarity, and perhaps the thought of it that it might one day become … too familiar.

Suddenly it dawned on you, in this seemingly game of feelings like seesaw, he was now taking the leverage because you were starting to get your high.

And for the first time in years, you were unsure how this would turn out.

A/N: Ahhhh THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING TIME! I can finally share my song inspo for this  chapter. I know the lyrics isn’t appropriate to the story, but I was just vibing to this while I was watching this video when I was doing my cardio on a machine. I quickly thought of THAT scene and I was all too UwU the whole time. Anyway, hope you all have a great day! THANKING MY BETA READER FOR GIVING HER PRECIOUS TIME FOR THIS 🙃 love you! you know who you are 😉

[cloudytamaki]

so, this is how the summer ends • k.denki

⤷ genre: fluff, angst - quirkless au, everyone’s 21, set in LA

⤷ warnings: mentions of sex/implied sex, mildly suggestive, alcohol

⤷ summary: a casual drunk hookup between two young strangers became something ... more than sex.

a warm breeze blows a curl of hair from your forehead and you exhale, corners of your lips lifting into a small smile. it’s almost the end of august; the leaves on the trees are becoming orange and the warm summer winds are cooling down.

the end of an era, and the start of another.

you subconsciously turn your head and look beside you, almost wishing for someone to be there. he isn’t – the cushion of the porch swing is empty. the small smile slips off your lips and your brows furrow; you close your eyes as if the sight’s painful, turning back to watch the trees and sun.

you can’t help the tingling heat that begins to spread through your nose; the promise of tears yet to come.

your mind drifts back to the start of your summer – june 14.

the neighborhood nightclub music is loud, likely booming throughout the area and annoying the neighbors.

but the old neighbors don’t seem to matter as much as the glass of alcohol in your hands and the prickling heat in the back of your skull. there’s a lazy smile sitting upon your lips as you survey the club, taking sips of your drink every few seconds.

ah — there’s your friend, out twerking on the dance floor, getting cheered on by men who are whooping and waving their fists in the air. you cross your legs, the thought of shaking your ass in front of many men seeming unappealing to you.

“hey! can i get another, please?” a golden blonde stranger is suddenly beside you, left arm on the bar counter, a wide grin on his face as sweat runs down his temples.

the bartender sighs, slides him a filled cup, then goes back to cleaning the other glasses with a towel. the energetic looking guy plops down onto a stool beside you, nice white teeth catching the light.

“hey, why aren’t you out dancing?”

your lips flatten into a thin line as you turn to him, “don’t feel like it. it’s nice sitting over here and watching, though.”

“i guess.” he furrows his eyebrows in thought, lips scrunching a bit, “you come here alone?”

“nope.” you sigh, taking a bigger sip this time. “i had a friend come with me, we’d had a few drinks before she’d gone off to the dance floor.” you tiredly gesture towards the crowd, “so yeah. what about you, where’s your friends? you look like you should be over there partying rather than talking to me.”

“they’re all over the club.” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “some of them didn’t come, others’re just.. around.”

“that makes sense.” another sip and you turn away from the blinding lights, “parties are fun for me, just not when i’m the center of attention.”

“i get that,” he chuckles, takes a sip of his own drink, “i know a guy exactly like that. 8:30 pm bedtime, 6:30 wake up.”

“are you serious? 8:30? i go to bed around 12.”

“yeah, i know right? he’s super strict on it too, we all make fun of him.”

“damn, that sounds fun.” you exhale before taking a bigger sip, the burn of the alcohol stinging a trail down your throat. “you have a name?”

he laughs at that, running a hand through his golden tufts, “denki kaminari, pleased to meet you, madam.” he jokingly places a kiss against your fingers and you let out a squeal of surprise, laughing as you pull your hands away from him.

“(y/n) (l/n), pleased to meet you too, denki kaminari.” you nod at him, drinking the last of your empty glass.

you both ask the bartender for more, and when you both stumble on your words in fear of interrupting each other, you decide to go against each other in a drinking challenge – five shot glasses filled with the second strongest liquor on the shelf.

you manage to down four glasses, determination the only thing keeping you going at this point; your cheeks are hot from the alcohol, brain fuzzy, surroundings beginning to blur every few seconds.

“y-you good?” denki doesn’t look all that good either. shit, he looks terrible – happy, but terrible nonetheless. five empty glasses are at his side and his golden eyes are focused on you.

“yeah, i’m fine.. round two?” you give him a challenging smile and he pouts, pushing out his lower lip as he asks the clearly tired bartender for more, once again.

you crack your knuckles and take a deep breath, picking up the first shot glass as you look at denki, nodding at the same time. you bring it to your lips and suck all the liquid down, almost feeling its burn in your spine when it goes down your throat.

another shot glass, then another – before you know it, you’re swaying on your feet like an idiot, brain spinning, muscles loose. you glance towards denki and you wonder why you’d let yourselves get so inebriated.

“damn, that was fun!” he’s slurring on his words and you bring a hand to your head, sighing.

“jesus christ, i need to sit down.” you both stagger towards a staircase, not caring about how idiotic you look while doing so.

you’re about to pop the dreaded question—how’re we getting home?—when he speaks instead, tilting his head back with a yawn-sigh.

“i’m horny.”

and that’s when you really notice something about him; his jawline is sharp and young, his lips pink and parted, his skin flushed from the drinks, his golden eyes piercing.

you find yourself saying something you’d never imagined would leave your lips, “i can help with that.”

“really? you?” he turns his head towards you and points to you almost accusingly.

you shrug, “i think it was the drinks, but yeah, me. don’t wanna pass up a good offer.”

he seems to think about it while you take a quick look at your phone. “11:48 pm – you stay horny or not, your choice.”

“okay.” denki does some jazz hands and you roll your eyes, “sure. i think there’s some upstairs rooms over here.” you both stand and turn, ascending up the stairs, deciding to walk into a decent looking room.

“so ...” you stand there awkwardly, surroundings spinning but you manage to look over to denki, who’s equally confused. “you said you were horny.”

“and you said you could fix that.” the both of you are standing there, looking at each other, not fully knowing what to do, so you decide to get the ball rolling.

walking over to him, you begin to plant kisses along his jaw and down his neck. he lets out a small whine when you pull away, but you’re feeling more confident when you look at him again.

“kiss me.”

you almost laugh at your confidence that night; you started off sitting alone with a cup of alcohol, not even planning to get drunk – where the fuck did that even come from?

a cooler breeze hits your skin this time, carrying the scent of nearby cooking. smells like some sort of pie, you guess, rubbing your hands over your thighs in remembrance of that drunken hookup. deciding to go inside, you slide off the porch swing, walking over to the back door, twisting the knob and heading inside.

the elevator comes surprisingly fast when you push the button; stepping in, you punch in the number five and wait as you’re lifted above all the other floors.

you take out your keys and step out of the elevator when it dings, walking down the hall to your door, inserting the keys and walking inside.

it’s cold, as expected.

sighing, you toss your keys onto the counter and open the cabinets, rooting around for some food. you come out with a packaged ramen cup; you open it and fill it up with water, then pop it into the microwave.

you lean against the stove as you wait; two minutes and the microwave beeps, you take out your hot food and grab a spoon, walking over to the kitchen table, switching on a light.

you eat alone, in silence.

“oh shit!” you practically throw yourself out of the twin-sized bed; your bare ass is on the cold floor and you’re frantically gathering as much of the sheet as possible, pulling it against your naked chest.

from the other side of the mattress, there’s a girlish scream and a head of golden blonde hair pops up, amber eyes wide with surprise and panic.

“who are you?” your hand comes up to your forehead to ease the pounding in the back of your head. “wait.” something clicks and some tension leaves your shoulders as you point at him, “aren’t you that kid from last night?”

“i’m 21, thank you very much.” he scoffs in disbelief, “how do you not remember me? you were literally moaning my—”

“okay!” you cut him off quickly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment as your brows furrow, “i ... drank too much.”

“same here.” he stands up, unintentionally putting himself on display, “where are we? i can’t remember going—”

“denki!” you practically scream, shielding your eyes, “please put some damn pants on!”

“sorry.” you hear some movement and rustling before the sound of a zipper, “there. what about you? you’re naked too.”

“i know, give me a minute...” you look around and locate your underwear and jeans. you slip them on, clasping your bra and throwing on your shirt.

you stand up, face to face with denki; his neck is spotted with love bites, his hair tousled, cheeks a light pink. “we.. should probably get going.” you grab your dying phone and check the time, “oh my god, it’s 10:15, i’m late for work.”

“you work on saturdays?” your relax at the question, exhaling in relief.

“no, not on saturdays. i thought it was friday or something.” you laugh but a stab of pain shoots from your head all the way through your body.

“how much did we drink last night?” you turn to the golden blonde, who sighs as he opens the door.

“i have no idea, i was gonna ask you. but we drank something strong.”

“i’m surprised we didn’t puke.” you both walk down the staircase, surprised to find that the club’s empty; pretty sunrays peek through the windows and dust floats in the air around you.

“well, i didn’t, but you did.” denki’s hand is at the back of his neck and he turns away from you in embarrassment, shuddering.

you cringe at what he’s insinuating, closing your eyes for a brief second. “um.. i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” he feels kind of weird asking, “where are you going?”

“well, i was planning on heading to my apartment, which you don’t typically do with a one-night stand, but i guess i can make an exception for you.”

“i’m getting special treatment? i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes as you open the door, squinting when the sun hits your face, “it’s the least i can do in exchange for the fun last night.”

denki bursts out into laughter, wiping faux tears from his eyes while you stand there, watching him. when his laughs finally slow down and he’s standing upright again, you elbow him in the ribs.

“looks like we’re gonna be walking a few blocks. we’d better hurry before it gets hot.”

“you don’t have a car?”

a glare from you is enough of an answer for him.

you throw the empty cup into the garbage, the spoon into the sink. you walk into your bedroom and water your plants on the windowsill, wishing that night would come fast.

it’s only 6:52 pm, and the sun sets at 7:30. before, time never felt so slow – probably because you had someone to spend it with. 

your lips pull into a frown and you place the green watering can back on the windowsill, huffing out a sigh. when had you gotten so damn lonely?

the second week of knowing denki and you’re holding onto his hand tightly as you walk through the dark field, ignoring his protests of ‘it’s dark!’ and ‘what if there’s wolves out here?!’

“calm down already! look, we’re almost there!” you point ahead and he shrieks.

“but there’s no light! seriously, we’re gonna get eaten by wolves or maybe even hawks!”

“jesus christ, denki. there’s no wolves out here, and hawks can’t grab us.” you aren’t fully sure about the wolves, but it’s just a white lie.. that he doesn’t need to know.

“are you sure?”

you stop, turning to him, looking him directly in the eyes. “come on, have some faith in me.”

denki slowly nods, visibly relaxing. you keep walking; it’s silent for the next few minutes, and eventually you finally come to a stop in an area where you can perfectly see the moon.

“why’d we stop?”

he stands before you, watching curiously as you grab a branch and wink at him.

“just watch.”

slowly, you sweep the branch over the grass, and fireflies rise in the air around you. a faint buzz fills the air as they float around you both; you sit down beside him.

denki’s eyes are half-wide in appreciation, lips parted. he turns his head to you, voice much calmer than it was earlier. “it looks.. magical.”

he was right, it did look quite magical that night. you check the time on your phone, 7:05 pm – just a little longer, you can make it.

placing the phone on your chest, you sigh as you close your eyes, letting your mind wander again.

“uhh, i don’t know about this...” this time you’re the one who’s hesitant to do something with him, worry consuming your mind as you sit on the side wall of the apartment.

“come on, you can do it! just glide.” denki excitedly holds a hand out to you and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth in worry, but you reluctantly nod and grab it.

his hand’s warm and soft when he pulls you up onto your feet, flashing you his all too familiar grin. “you’ll be fine, i’ve got you.”

your skin warms at his words and you decide that rollerskating with him is worth the effort. “okay.. so you just go forwards and gently push off each time?”

“pretty much, look.” he demonstrates proudly, you give him some applause before copying his exact movements, and surprisingly, you don’t fall.

“there you go! okay, come on, i wanna show you somewhere cool i found earlier!” he grabs your hand and skates forward so quickly you panic, unable to do anything else but glide with him.

“oh my god, don’t go so fast! you’re gonna run into a streetpole!”

“no, i won’t, i’ll be fine! come on, i think you’ll like the boba place i found!”

you open your eyes, checking your phone again – 7:32, just in time for the sunset. you get off your bed and start to walk out of your room, but a red gleam catches your eye – you turn to see the red rollerskates you wore with denki.

ignoring the pang in your heart, you grab a jacket and head out of your apartment, locking the door behind you before heading into the elevator.

you’re heading to the highest floor; up there, you’ll be able to get to the roof.

after punching in number eight, you lean against the wall, looking at your hands. a ding alerts you that you’ve arrived; you step out of the elevator and open the door at the end of the hall, walking up the small metal staircase – finally, you’re here.

you don’t make any moves to sit; that’s something new. instead, you stand on the roof, hands in your pockets as you watch the swirling plethora of colors dissolve into darkness in front of you.

“how long have you been living here?” denki shakes his head, droplets of water hitting your skin and you release a small laugh, stepping away from him.

“about four years or so.. it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“yeah, it is. it’s.. always awake, you know?”

“oh yeah,” you chuckle, understanding what he means about the city, “always. there’re cars going at 3 in the morning all the time. so many places are open to eat, it’s nice they cater to people’s late night cravings.”

“true.” he looks up at the leafy branches in thought, “i like citylife. it’s kinda boring if everything’s slow paced and sleepy.”

the rippling lake water catches the sunlight, glittering in the late afternoon sun. the field’s light green and grassy, all flat except for the few lone apple trees that dot its surface.

“sometimes you have to step away from the city to really enjoy nature.” you stand up and grab a red apple off a lower branch, taking a bite and offering it to him.

“they’re sweet, y’know.”

denki gives a huff, “i know what apples taste like.” he bites into the fruit, humming at its taste. he hands it back to you and you take another bite, savoring the fresh, crisp taste.

you sit down beside him, tilting your head back to look up at the different branches above you. your hair’s still damp from the swimming, your skin dewy with droplets of water.

“should we go back in?” you question, looking out towards the lake.

“only if we’re skinny dipping.”

“it’s.. light out. you’re supposed to go in the dark.”

“so?” denki grabs your hand and brings you up, “come on, it’ll be fun!”

you lay back with a sigh, arms crossed behind your head as you stare up at the cloudy night sky, unable to see any constellations due to the clouds and city light.

the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, almost shy to reveal its full light.

a rush of sadness fills your chest and you move your feet, not wanting to remember the particularly painful memory made right here.

“you’ve been silent all night, denki. what’s up with you?” his hand finds yours and gives it a squeeze.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for not telling you something i should’ve told you sooner.. i’m heading back to japan tomorrow.”

you don’t respond but your heartbeat quickens as you look up at the sky. “why are you going to japan, denki?”

“because.. i live there. i come here every summer from the beginning of june to the end of july with some friends.”

“so you won’t be able to...” your voice fades in realization.

“we can call and text! we both have phones, right?” he’s trying to be cheery.

“it’s not the same,” you say, voice suddenly strained, “you’re.. what, sixteen hours ahead of me? it wouldn’t work, it’d be inconvenient for both of us.”

“here, i have an idea. give me your phone.” he hands you his, which is open to the ‘create a new contact’ page; you do the same, now sitting up.

you type in your phone number and a small note, then hand it back to him.

denki seems quite invested in his typing; it takes him a few good minutes before he’s finished. “don’t open the note ‘til i’m gone, okay?”

it seems you’d never opened it. why not? you take out your phone to open it, reliving your last memory.

“call me, okay?” denki’s grinning again, giving you a tight hug before getting on the plane. you’re wondering why he’s so happy – it’s a facade, of course. smiling always fends off the tears, right?

when he’s about to pull away, he realizes how you’re not letting go, head buried in his neck. “denki, be safe. don’t forget anything on the plane, okay?” your voice is light and you’re trying to joke with him, but he can sense that unsteadiness.

he hugs you tighter, tears forming in his eyes. “i love you.”

a weak sob escapes your lips and the tears start rushing out of your eyes. “i love you too, please be careful.”

you hadn’t spoken to him since that morning – three weeks ago. why hadn’t you stayed in touch?

the note opens and you immediately read it, tears welling up in your eyes.

‘to y/n, the most amazing girl i’ve ever met.. i’ve enjoyed it all, from the most awkward morning of my life to the first time i’ve ever gone up on a roof with someone. it’s been really fun, i’m going to miss this. i get it if you don’t wanna stay in touch; it’s too painful sometimes, you know? but aside from our adventures, i’ve really enjoyed bonding with you as a person. you’re funny, sarcastic, and all around amazing. i love you - see you next summer.’

he was right in his message; it is too painful to stay in touch sometimes. you exit the contacts list, wiping at your eyes and smearing your makeup as you open the messaging app, beginning to type out a message,

hey, i miss you.

taglist // @sobaluvr​ @bbytamaki​ 

[angelfishofthelord]

my life is a song for you

(a 15x18 au where Billie isn't in the picture, set before Chuck snapped everyone away)

I don’t think I can sing this song to you

Hold my lips and power through

Think about a different day

It starts with anger, of course; most of the ideas Castiel has have been met with that. This time, though, instead of the anger coming solely from the elder Winchester, it is a united chorus from all of them. Together the choir flows into bargaining, eventually being backed by a full orchestra of third day denial. The percussion of depression comes soon after the fourth day. By the time they reach acceptance on Saturday, the conductor has already put down his bow.

They end up agreeing to Castiel’s plan without actually saying those words. They just stop.

Stop arguing, stop researching, stop fending off each other’s stubborn reasoning with weak excuses.

The room stops thrashing to and fro and sits there, hands on its knees. Jack is staring at his shoes, the line of his throat bobbing up and down. Sam brushes an arm across his face, pretending it’s to wipe the hair of out his eyes, and then stands up, saying I’ll get you a bag for the trip. After he leaves Dean clears his throat and mutters about going to fill the tank on Castiel’s truck. Jack, come on, come help me, he says and the boy follows him without a word.

Castiel stands alone in the library and carefully folds up the map spread out on the table. His fingers move rigidly, like they are already paralyzed by mourning. The relief that they’ve finally accepted the plan and everything it entails is drowned out ten times over by the reality of what happens next. It has be done tomorrow night; he has less than twenty four hours to spend his family. He has to go do it alone; their presence would derail the entire plan.

No one is hungry during dinner that night, even though the burgers smell exceptionally good. After the dishes are done Dean puts on a movie that none of them are really watching. Still they huddle together on the sofa, letting it play loudly anyways because otherwise the quiet might shatter them.

I don’t think I can do this without tears

Pick a moment, fly the years

What can there be left to say

The hour before Castiel leaves the next morning Sam comes into the front room and puts a beige duffle bag down on the table. Here, he says, fumbling uneasily with the straps. I put a charger in, in case your phone runs out of battery. Castiel peers into the bag and sees different parcels of the spell ingredients, all wrapped and marked individually in Sam’s neat handwriting. There’s also a new mixtape, probably from Dean, and a little plastic bag of nougat candy, fruit roll ups, and gumdrops that Castiel knows is from Jack’s secret movie-watching snack stash.

They’ve all added a little farewell gift for him. A lump the size of a watermelon swells in his throat.

Sam is still standing there, fidgeting with the zipper of the bag and Castiel just reaches over and grabs his hand and holds it for a moment, long enough to pull himself together. And then Sam tucks his fingers around his and they hold for several minutes more. When they eventually have to let go it hurts, physically, like someone just sliced open the veins on his palm.

Dean comes by a few minutes after Sam leaves. He stands next to Castiel, looking at the map spread out over the table.  The clock clucks loudly in the background and Castiel stands there, motionless, as if he can will time to pause just by sheer determination. If he feels a weight on his left side that is Dean resting s head hon his shoulder then that’s just another reason not to move or even breathe. The pressure lifts, eventually, and Castiel feels the vacancy like part of him has been sliced off.

Ten minutes before he leaves everyone else is going about the Bunker as usual. There’s been an unspoken decision reached by them all that there will be no speech, no goodbye, because otherwise Castiel simply won’t be able to go. It’s for his sake that they’re pretending to be researching in the library, or cleaning up the kitchen, or fixing the Impala.

Castiel slips the straps of the duffle bag over his shoulder. He checks his right coat pocket for the truck keys. The front room is empty but from where he’s standing he can see Jack reading at one of the library tables. Jack hasn’t come up to him yet today; Castiel understands why. He’s been avoiding the boy for the same reason.

But against his better judgement Castiel walks into the library and stands there at the edge. He watches Jack silently for a few minutes before he realizes that if he lingers even a second longer he’s going to throw down the bag, pull Jack into his arms, and never ever step out the door.

So he moves forward, quickly, and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. He closes his brimming eyes and presses a kiss to his son’s forehead, ignoring the teardrops rolling down his cheeks and onto Jack’s forehead. The boy’s fingers immediately close around his coat sleeve and Castiel lets the boy cling to the fabric for just a second before he pulls away hard and goes, one foot after the other, because he knows--he knows that Jack is watching him leave and it takes all the strength he never knew he had to not turn back.

When the Bunker door finally slams behind him Castiel jumps a little. The lock clicks in place like hinges on the side of a coffin.

(oh, my life is a song for you)

(oh, my life is a song for you)

He breaks down at a cafe, over a coffee refill.

For the past four hours of driving he’s managed to keep himself stitched together. The threads stretched but did not burst. Not even when he put on Dean’s new mixtape at the second hour; not when he ate one of Jack’s nougat bars while getting a gas refill at the three and a half hour mark. His phone has been plugged into Sam’s charger the entire time, even though the battery is blinking at one hundred percent.

But around noon he decided to stop for some coffee. He didn’t need it to stay awake for the drive ahead, and he didn’t need to stretch his legs, but he pulled over by the diner anyways.

He needed to breathe. That was all.

As he took a table in the corner the waitress came over to pour him a cup of black coffee and he thanked her. His phone sat warm in the right pocket of his coat. Sam and Dean were only a phone call away. The thought prickled in his chest like a bouquet of needles. He tried to focus instead on the hot bitter liquid moving down his throat, drowning the temptation out.

When the waitress returned to refill his cup she told him he needs to order something to keep the table. “I’ll be on my way soon,” he said, motioning to the tip he had placed under his cup. “Could I stay for just a few minutes longer?”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bill. “This coffee ain’t worth that much,” she laughed.

“No,” Castiel admitted, talking without thinking. “Dean makes a better cup anyways.”

And just like that, a blade cuts through all the neat knots in himself and he unravels, face buried in his hands, deaf to the fumbling questions of a slightly puzzled but concerned waitress.

A cup of coffee is enough to almost make him turn around. Almost.

keep reading on a03

[nomadicauthor287]

The Ghost AU

The Bad Batch leaves the orphanage in a hurry after finding out a terrible truth. When they flee they leave one of their own behinds. They find an abandoned house in the middle of the woods.

The children in the orphanage are being sold off as child soldiers to the highest bidder after being implanted with inhibitor chips

So the Headmaster enlists some supernatural help to retrieve their most valued subject. Omega is the experiment of the Head Doctor who was obsessed with supernatural abilities. She is an empath, she’s able to understand the emotions of others and creatures. A hunter enlists the help of the demons and otherworldly creatures to track them down. The demon of the house in the middle of the woods agrees to a deal with the Hunter. In exchange for the capture of Omega, the demon gets the souls of Bad Batch.

Once settled into the house, Omega meets a kid named Boba while wandering the forest. He tells her the house she now lives in is haunted by ghosts and demons of those who went missing in the woods. They bond over exploring the forest to find a well at the end of a cliff.

When she returns only Tech is home working on his computer. She recounts to him how she nearly fell down a well but he doesn’t really pay attention. Then she finds a doll wrapped in newspaper that looks exactly like her. She pays no mind to it while she explores the house. As she explores the house she discovers a tiny door and asks Tech to help her open it but Tech passes the task to Echo.

Echo finds the key and opens the door for Omega. But the door was all bricked up until that night.

That night Omega is awoken by a white rat taking her beloved doll to the tiny door in the living room. When she passed through the door she found the room to be brighter and homey. Then there was the delicious scent coming from the kitchen

Omega finds Hunter cooking in the kitchen but when she turns around she sees he has buttons for eyes. The Other Hunter tells her that he’s the Other Hunter, the “Better” Hunter. Then he tells her to go retrieve the Other Crosshair in the study. She doesn’t think twice about it and runs to the study.

When she goes into the study she finds the Other Crosshair playing the piano. He turned around to reveal that he too, had buttons for eyes. The Other Crosshair sings a song to her which makes her happy. But she didn’t know it was meant as a warning.

After the song, he gives her a piggyback ride back to the kitchen where a delicious dinner was waiting for them. From chicken to mashed potatoes, all the food she couldn’t have at the orphanage. For dessert, there was a cake just for her that said “Welcome Home”

She was confused until the Other Hunter tells her that they have been waiting for her to return. Before she could question it the Other Crosshair cut the cake and served them

By the time that dessert was done Omega felt tired so the Other Crosshair carried her to bed. He tucked her in and read her a story. To her, the normal Crosshair wouldn’t do that.

When she woke in the morning everything was back to normal. The same dreary house she started living in. She tried to convince the others that it wasn’t a dream but they put it off as a childish fantasy.

That day she tried to get Wrecker to help her start a garden but he tells her he has to help fix the van with Tech while the others go to town for food. This leaves her to her own devices with her doll which leads her to the attic.

In the attic, she finds an old projector and decides to fix it up. After fixing it up she sees a film of two brothers flying in the air like trapeze artists. It reminds her of all the stories Echo told her of his twin brother Fives.

She spots another white rat and it leads her back to the little door in the living room. Before she could go in she’s startled by a black cat named Tup. Boba greets her and asks her to go slug hunting with them. They have a great time hunting slugs until Boba is called home by a bell.

By this point, the others have returned and are making dinner which is basically some really bad casserole made by Hunter. She eats it to make Hunter happy but doesn’t eat much.

That night after Tech attempts to read a story normally but ends up overanalyzing the story she sets a trap for the rats. The trap will alert her if they take the bait.

The trap works and soon Omega finds herself back in the other world. This time the Other Hunter cooked her breakfast for dinner. But the Other Hunter tells her to go fetch the Other Wrecker from the garden. Before she could protest about them not having a garden, the Other Hunter gives her some waffles to eat on her way to the garden.

When she gets outside she sees Wrecker riding a giant grasshopper that he uses to help plow the fields and gardens. He shows her that the garden is actually shaped to look like her.

After dinner with breakfast food, the Other Hunter tells her the Other Tech wants to take Omega to a show. She asks what kind of show it is but they tell her it’s a secret.

When the Other Tech arrives she sees that he too has button eyes with a zipper mouth. The Other Hunter assures her that it didn’t hurt him. The Other Tech gestures it doesn’t hurt and has her open his mouth. When he speaks he speaks in plain English. The Other Tech leads her to the basement which turns out to be a theatre

The show they watched was actually a trapeze act with Echo and Fives. The twins pull Omega into their act. She has the time of her life but the Other Tech is uneasy

When the Other Tech was returning Omega she was met up with the Other Hunter and Crosshair. The Other Crosshair brigns Omega to bed but the Other Hunter turns to the Other Tech and makes a gesture for him to smile. In this world the Other Tech is less sassy and a bit more timid.

The next day she gets frustrated with the others when they lock the door because they found rat crap and things going bump in the night. This makes her lash out at them. She tells them that the little door is the best thing that has happened to her in a while. They took away her fun and “everything” she liked.

“I WISH I NEVER LEFT THE OTHER WORLD! THEY TREAT ME BETTER THERE AND ACTUALLY SPEND TIME WITH ME! THEY ACTUALLY CARED FOR ME UNLIKE YOU! AND THEY DIDN’T LEAVE CROSSHAIR BEHIND!

2.) She runs away to a treehouse where she finds another door to the other world. She breaks the lock and goes through it. Boba finds the treehouse and launches a rescue mission by himself.

lil-medic

During all this Echo tells Hunter that Omega needs space. Wrecker suggests they look through the door and they get kidnapped and put into a jail cell in the Other World.

Omega wakes up in the other world in her room but with 3 new plushies in her room

A T-rex, hyena, and a wolf with a bow on its ear

“Why the hell am I wearing a tutu and bow on my ear?” Wolffe growls angrily

They try to talk her into going back to the real world. The world that she is in is a lie and that her real family is in danger.

Before she could question them more the dinner bell rings and she runs downstairs excited.

The trio groans and tries to follow her but ends up falling off the bed.

Omega runs downstairs and accidentally falls down the stairs in front of the Other Crosshair. He rushes to her aid and gently takes care of her. He gives her warm hugs and is more affectionate of her than the real Crosshair according to her.

Eventually, he takes her to go see a circus in the attic with his rats. He gives an outfit for her to wear to the performance while he goes and gets the rats ready.

The plushie trio tells her that their names are Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor. They’re friends of Hunter and try to warn her that she is walking straight into a trap. They tell her that they are just like her but their abilities came from great pain.

She doesn’t heed their warning and instead takes them with her to the attic for the show.

Turns out the show is a rat circus with Crosshair as the ringleader. They did little tricks for her and pulled her into the act with her.

After the show Crosshair brought her to dinner where the whole Other family was waiting for her. There was a lavish meal set out for her.

They ask her if she likes this world and she says yes and wants to stay forever. With that answer, they hand her a box that contains buttons with needles and thread.

A chill ran down her spine but she thought about her life in the other world, the real world. Right as she was about to say yes to the buttons Boba rushes in to save her while the trio of dolls cause a distraction

Omega gets mad at Boba while he drags her through the door to the real world.

Then he explains to her that there was a demon trying to capture her. She asks him how he knows that and he says Tup told him.

She is skeptical until Tup jumps onto the two and explains the whole ordeal.

Tup tells the two that the house demon is a spider demon that traps its prey with illusions. Then he tells Omega that the demon has taken her brothers. Tup pulls the dolls of the Bad Batch out.

Omega finally believes him and asks the others to help her save her real family

When they return to the other world Omega asks to play a game with the Other Hunter. In each of the wonders made for Omega, there is a treasure that belonged to her real family. For every treasure, she finds she, in turn, saves her family’s soul.

Tech and Echo’s treasures are found in the basement theatre and upon finding their treasures they have to fight the Other Echo who is conjoined at the hip with the Other Fives. Meanwhile, the Other Tech lures Omega away and hands her a note saying how sorry he is, and hands her the real Tech’s glasses. After their defeat, the Other Tech and Echo+Fives are reduced to dust.

The real Tech and Echo are released from their prisons within the treasure.

Boba gives the two a rundown of what happened so far and immediately the two hug and checks the kids over for injuries.

The next person they go after is the Other Wrecker and he fights hard. It takes all of them to take him out in order to retrieve Lula from the giant grasshopper.

In the end, they retrieve Lula and Wrecker is returned

The next person they go after is the Other Crosshair in the attic but when they get there he begs Omega not to fight. He tells her that the real Crosshair is not there and that he is just rats. The real Crosshair is back at the orphanage waiting for them to save him

The Other Crosshair tells them that the last of their family is being held by the Other Hunter.

The Other Hunter only allows Omega to come in and play one final game for the soul of the Real Hunter

Now the Other Hunter looked more grotesque now. His skin was cracking and stitches were showing now. He challenges to a game of hiding and seeks with him as the seeker and Omega as the hider.

The others are spectating except for Tup. He helps Omega find where Hunter’s bandana is but the demon doesn’t let her escape.

Omega rallies the souls of those who died to attack the demon for revenge to give her and her family a chance to escape

As they escape the house falls apart on itself. Hunter is in a daze as they escape the house. When they hit the woods Boba leads them back to his home.

Boba lives alone after his father died. The Bad Batch decide to take him with them after the whole ghostly demon ordeal

Then they hatch a plan to go after Crosshair after they find books that Boba was keeping. It was a book about the supernatural. From there they learn everything they can from the supernatural in order to save their brother.

@itsjml @dreamy-day-daze @agentmarymargaretskitz @kratosfan6632466 @eyecandyeoz @echoy-naak @zaffrefox @soundwavetherav

[missaudreyhorney]

The Big Game

Modern AU where Jim Hopper is at your parent’s house for a Super Bowl party. That isn’t a plot so much as it is a very flimsy excuse for me to write out some dirty thoughts I have after seeing this photo of David Harbour looking like an absolute DILF.

Content Warnings: Rated M for age gap, kissing, over-the-clothes touching, a bit of Daddy kink, a little physical intimidation. All that good stuff. Female Reader. Slightly OOC for the sake of funsies. 1.6k words.

Tagging @t-u-m-s​. Anyone else want to be tagged when I post something new? Let me know.

“I know you said not to bring anything,” you announce as you walk into your parents’ house from the garage, “but mom told me the doctor said you should be watching your diet.” You place the tray of vegetables on the kitchen counter and turn towards the living room. “So I brought you some ve-” your words are cut off by the sight of an unfamiliar man sitting on the couch.

He’s wearing jeans, a dark grey polo shirt, and a black baseball cap that’s on backward. Just his profile alone is stunning. Thick eyebrows, an adorably pointy nose, and a strong jaw covered by a short, scruffy beard. He turns to look at you and it feels as if your heart stops.

“Hopper, you’ve met my daughter before, right?” your father says as he stands up from the chair to greet you.

“No,” the man answers coldly, eyes now fixed on the tv.

Your father comes into the kitchen and gives you a hug. “That was very nice of you, sweetie, but your mom’s been making me eat vegetables every day. This is the Super Bowl. All I want today is wings and potato skins.”

You hear his words clearly but they don’t register in your head. You’re much too distracted by this Hopper person you’ve never seen or even heard about before.

“Where’s everybody else?” you wonder aloud.

“They’re not here yet. This is just the pregame stuff,” your father clarifies.

Hopper glances at you again and you feel like you’re melting as you lean into the countertop. He’s so hot. Nothing like the boys you go to school with. Nothing like a boy at all. He is one hundred percent man.

“You wanna get a snack and join us?” your father requests in a jovial tone.

“Um, I have to, uh, put this other stuff away,” you point to the bag of groceries on the floor next to you.

“Oh, right,” your father acknowledges.

“Where’s mom?”

“Getting a couple of last-minute things for the party. She’ll be back soon.”

You roll your eyes. “I told her I would do that.”

“You know your mother, “ he says, walking back into the living room. “She never listens.”

You take a moment to admire Hopper before removing the food you’ve purchased from the bag. His arms are tantalizing, with the type of muscle not built from going to the gym, but from moving furniture, fixing cars, and other forms of manual labor. Seeing the veins in his hand as he drinks a bottle of beer makes you lick your lips. You can’t stop yourself from shooting him more glances as you finish putting the remainder of the groceries in their rightful place.

There’s no way you can sit in there with that gorgeous man and pretend to be calm or make casual conversation. Instead, you slowly and carefully make your way upstairs to your bedroom, or rather, what used to be your bedroom before you started college. Leaning against the inside of the door and taking a deep breath, you pull your phone from your pocket to distract you.

Your mother arrives about ten minutes later, with a football-shaped ice cream cake, and you admonish her appropriately. Soon after, more people show up to the party and the game starts.

With increasing frequency, your eyes drift over to the handsome stranger still on the couch, and within time, his begin to drift towards you as well. You try to keep busy by topping off people’s drinks, refilling the chip bowls, and putting more snacks in the oven but it’s ultimately no use. You can’t avert your gaze for longer than 5 minutes at the most.

Every time you catch him looking at you, heat rises in your chest and radiates out through your limbs. Under normal circumstances, you would welcome this feeling, but with so many sets of eyes surrounding you, the feeling is almost embarrassing. You don’t know how much more of it you can take and you have to get out of there. Not necessarily out of the house, but just away from Hopper.

During a detergent commercial, you try to sneak back upstairs. When your mother asks where you’re going, you tell her that you’re not feeling well and you need to lie down. It is at least partially the truth.

Sitting down on the small bed, you begin to scroll through Instagram to get your mind off of him and you quickly lose track of time. A while later, you hear someone ascending the staircase. Standing in the doorway of your room and looking down the hall, you see Hopper’s impossibly long legs lumbering up the steps.

“What are you doing up here?” you question quietly.

“It’s halftime,” he declares as he closes the space in between your bodies. His scent is so manly, like tobacco and aftershave.

You take a step back. “Don’t you want to see...whoever it is that’s performing?”

“No,” he answers, entering the room. “I want to see you.” His voice is low and deep, causing your thighs to gently quiver.

“H-Hopper, right?” you stammer, breath getting caught in your throat.

“You can call me Jim,” he offers. It's not until you're this close up to him that you see how incredible his eyes are. They're such an unusually dark shade of blue.

“Okay...Jim.” You can feel your cheeks flush as you utter his name.

He looks around and takes a sip of his beer. “Is this your old room?”

“Yeah,” you answer, “haven’t lived here in years though.”

“Who’s Troy?” he asks you with a slight chuckle.

You give him a confused expression, completely unaware of who or what he’s referring to. He points to the wall behind you and you turn your head to look.

“Oh,” you laugh nervously, seeing your old Troy Bolton poster. “It’s Zac Efron. I used to have a crush on him.”

He nods his head in recognition.

“My tastes have…matured since then though.”

“Have they?” he asks with his curiosity piqued.

You nod vigorously as he approaches you like a lion stalking a young gazelle. Attempting to be coy, you back away, until your legs hit the bed and there’s nowhere else to go.

He puts his beer bottle on the nightstand. “What’s your taste in men like now?”

“Older,” you admit, looking up into his beautiful eyes.

“How much older?” His hands clasp around either side of your waist.

“I don’t know,” you answer breathlessly as your hands move up to his shoulders. “About 20 years?”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, his lips are on yours in a fiery kiss. Something about this feels wrong, but at the same time, oh so right. You do have a genuine preference for older men, but one that’s friends with your father is really pushing it. As much as you hate to admit it, part of that excites you. It turns you on that he’s in his 40’s and there are a dozen or so people downstairs who could catch you two together at any moment.

Your mouth gasps against his when he shoves you backward and you both fall onto the twin-sized bed. He tastes like beer, a flavor you’re not fond of, but the absolute last thing you want to do right now is to stop. Suddenly, his left hand pulls your hair, yanking your head to the side to give his mouth better access to your neck. He kisses and sucks your sensitive skin there, making you squirm with equal parts pleasure and arousal.

“Oh, Daddy,” you breathe as he nibbles on your earlobe.

“Did you just call me Daddy?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you confess. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I liked it.”

You moan as his teeth graze your skin. The way he’s biting and sucking on you, it feels like he’s going to leave a mark, and at this point, you don’t even care. You don’t care about anything at all other than the way your body feels underneath him and his wanton mouth.

Another moan tumbles from your lips as run your fingers up his hairy forearms and grasp onto his biceps.

“Not so loud, huh? They’re gonna hear us.”

“You should have shut the door,” you reprimand halfheartedly. The sensation of his beard scratching the flesh over your collarbone has you pushing your hips into him.

“Too late for that now,“ he dismisses as his palm presses just below the zipper on your jeans.

Again you let out a moan, this one strained as you try and fail to be quiet.

“Why haven’t I seen you here before?” he inquires, his fingers now massaging against the denim.

“I’ve been at school,” you pant out.

“Well, you’re just going to have to come over here more often, aren’t you?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy!” you moan as the fingers of his free hand start to slide up the back of your t-shirt towards your bra.

“Hey, Hopper. You up there?” your father calls from downstairs.

Slapping a hand down on his head to keep his hat in place, Hopper jumps up from the bed and sprints to the door. “Yeah, I’m, uh, just looking for the bathroom.”

In a daze, you close your eyes and stay on the bed. It’s not until now that you notice how much your blood is pumping and your heart is pounding. With a resigned whimper, you realize that you’re aching with an overwhelming need left by his immense hand rubbing you through your jeans.

“Hurry up. The game is about to start again.” The sound of your father’s voice is a massive buzzkill.

“I’ll see you later, alright?” Hopper suggests to you as he stands in the doorway.

You don’t know what that means exactly but you’re looking forward to finding out. “Alright,” you sigh.

READ PART 2 HERE!

[shyvioletcat]

for striking matches au: "It looks like you have more fun with them than with me."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here’s a little bit of Firefighter fun for your day.

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

Rowan sat slumped on the couch, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for Aelin to finish getting ready. It had taken him minutes to get ready, with his dark jeans and button up white shirt, a pair of lensless glasses frames tucked into the chest pocket. They were going to a Halloween party at Aedion and Lysandra’s place, and very honestly, Rowan didn’t want to go.

He and Aelin had only been going out for just a little over a month and he had met her family and friends a few times, but they definitely weren’t his friends yet. He knew what would happen tonight once they got to the party, and he would be left with two choices. One, he could follow Aelin around the whole night as she lit up the room and thrived on all the social interactions. Or two, he’d sit in a corner with a beer and watch. Considering that he’d just come off a hard shift, Rowan was feeling more inclined to do the second. The subject of him staying behind had been broached but Aelin wasn’t having it. She said it would ruin their ‘matching’ costumes and added that her friends wanted to spend more time with him. So of course Rowan relented for her. Only her.

“Alright, ready,” Aelin sang as she appeared from her bedroom. She was wearing a long black coat and a pair of black boots, her golden hair in soft waves with the ends chalked a vibrant red.

“You’re wearing that?” Rowan asked, not bothering to get up yet.

Aelin grinned at him. “No, I”m wearing this.”

She opened her jacket to show him what was underneath, and Rowan felt his eyes go wide. Aelin had decided on their costumes, they were going to the party dressed as each other professions. Rowan’s costume had been all too easy to put together, all he had to buy was a pair of cheap glasses from the discount store and pop the lenses out. Aelin had bought the entirety of hers new, unless by some design of fate she had this firefighter costume lying around. But Rowan seriously doubted that.

His eyes started at the black boots she wore – and maybe he had seen those before – but her long legs were mostly bare except for a small pair of black shorts with a trim of red on the legs and a yellow belt. A strip of her stomach was bare as well, the shirt hugged her waist and upper torso, and zip ran up the middle instead of buttons, leaving it open in a deep V as it precariously contained her cleavage. It was all topped off with a pair of suspenders that she had her thumbs hooked under as she still grinned at him.

“So, what do you think? Reckon Lorcan would let me join the team?”

Rowan blinked once before he managed to look up her face. The neckline was proving more of a distraction the longer he looked.

“Do we have to go?” Rowan blurted and Aelin tipped her head back and laughed.

“We most certainly do.” Aelin did her jacket up and grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter as well as a plastic firefighter hat. “Come on, Mr Whitethorn. Let’s go have some fun.”

Rowan was about to tell her they could have fun here, probably better fun too, but he just sighed and closed the apartment door behind him.

Aelin left her coat in the car. Rowan had parked and within seconds Aelin had deserted the car only leaving a heap of black material behind. He was quick to follow and the elevator arrived just as he got there. 

“Look at this fancy apartment building with it’s elevator,” Aelin mused as she pushed the button and then lent on the railing. “You never answered my question. You think Lorcan would let me on the team?”

Rowan turned, seeing that teasing look written on every feature of her face. “Definitely not. But that has nothing to do with the costume.”

Aelin laughed again. “You haven’t even told me if you like my costume or not. You make a very sexy Teacher if I do say so myself.”

He moved, they were chest to chest and almost touching. Then Rowan gave her a lingering once over that made Aelin breath just a little faster. Leaning in he kissed her, and he felt her smiling against his lips before she fully committed to it. The only sound was the mechanisms of the elevator, then there was the definitive sound of a zipper being pulled.

Aelin let out a comical gasp. “Mr Whitethorn, keep your hands to yourself.” 

Rowan chuckled and kissed her again, quickly, and stepped away, hands raised. 

“I was wondering how long it would take you, that was damn near obscene,” Aelin laughed, readjusting her suspenders.

He hadn’t been pulling the down, he’d been pulling it up to try and give him a little more peace of mind when he walked into the party. It was a stupid, jealous thing to do, and he expected Aelin to rip into him for it. But he was mistaken, it was all a ploy from Aelin to get his attention it seemed. The elevator arrived at the right floor and she pulled his glasses from his pocket, slipping them onto his nose before grabbing his hand and leading them out. They walked down the hallway, arriving at a door with music pulsing behind it. Aelin didn’t bother knocking and walked in, almost running into the hostess herself. Lysandra was dressed as Red Riding Hood, a bright red cape over a short green dress.

“You made it!” She nearly yelled as she hugged Aelin, obviously already a little drunk. Then her green eyes landed on him. “Nice lipstick, Rowan.”

Confused, Rowan rubbed at his mouth, his fingers coming away red. He gave Aelin an accusing look but she just grinned and rubbed away what was left of the lipstick.

“You look great,” Lysandra said, then she pointed between them. “I get it. You’re dressed as each other. Clever.”

“Thank you,” Aelin said, tucking into Rowan’s side. “Where’s Aeds?”

Lysandra waved behind her. “Somewhere. You guys have fun, now!” 

She was gone through the crowd and Rowan held onto Aelin’s hand as she led them to the drinks. He spotted Elide and a few other familiar faces, but overall there were a lot of people hadn’t seen before. Aelin waved to people she recognised, saying hello here and there, but she never let go of him. She found him a stool in a corner, letting him sit while she leaned into his chest. Aedion eventually found them, as did Elide and Lysandra, the women begging Aelin to come dance but she declined. 

Rowan could tell that she wanted to, so he leant forward and kissed her cheek. “Go have fun love, I’m fine here.”

She turned to face him then said hopefully. “You could always come dance with me.”

“I don’t think so,” Rowan said, shaking his head. 

Aelin pouted at him but she didn’t push him. “I’ll be back soon I promise.”

True to her word Aelin came back after a few dances, Rowan’s eyes had been drinking her in the whole time and she made sure to send him flirty smiles as she did. That costume combined with the way she moved was nearly driving him insane. But soon after she arrived she was dragged off again for a game of beer pong with Aedion. As a team the two cousins were unstoppable and by the time she wandered back to Rowan again she was definitely a little tipsy. She threw her arms around his neck, leaning fully into him.

“Come dance with me, please?” Aelin begged. 

That smile was almost his undoing but then a voice he actually recognised sounded from behind her.

“There you are. Not surprised to see you hiding in a corner, Whitethorn.”

Looking up Rowan saw Fenrys and Aelin turned to face him as well. 

“You made it!” She exclaimed.

It was then that Rowan took in exactly what Fenrys was wearing… or not wearing. He had worn most of his work uniform, just about everything except his shirt. Even with the jacket over the top Rowan could tell that he’s taken care to oil up his bare chest beneath, only ever so slightly covered by his suspenders. He lent his elbow on Aelin’s shoulder, and looking at the two of them they were the ones that looked like they had come dressed to match.

Fenrys tilted his head. “Who are you supposed to be? Clark Kent?”

Rowan crossed his arms over his chest but it was Aelin who answered. “No he’s a teacher. You get it?”

“Oh, yep yep. I get it,” Fenrys said nodding. “You’ve swapped professions. And, might I just say Miss Galathynius, you make a fine firefighter.” 

Aelin shoved him. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.”

Getting a drink turned into a few dances, followed by a game of magnetic darts and then at least three songs worth of awful karaoke. In between the activities Aelin and Fenrys wandered away from each other, but always seemed to find the other again. At one point Fenrys came over to drop off his jacket now that he was getting a little warm, Rowan had even rolled his sleeves up to his elbows for a little relief.

Rowan fixed his coworker with a look. “You know you’re not supposed to wear your uniform outside of work.”

Fenrys’ reply was a shrug and a grin.

“You look like a stripper,” Rowan added and Fenrys let out an incredulous laugh.

“We all gotta live a little sometimes,” Fenrys said before disappearing to Aelin’s side again.

Rowan felt himself getting more sullen by the second, watching how Aelin and Fenrys smiled and had fun together. It was moments like this that Rowan wished he was more… sociable. More willing to put himself out there in situations like this, but instead he was sitting in a dark corner by himself, with only Fenrys’ jacket for company. Aelin wandered back to him, her hands immediately going to his face to make her look at him.

“What is it?” She asked him.

“It’s nothing,” Rowan said and she tried to shake Aelin off but she kept hold of him and just lent in closer.

“What. Is. It.”

Rowan sighed. “It looks like you have more fun with him than with me.”

Aelin smirked. “And him meaning Fenrys.”

Rowan nodded.

That smirk turned into a coy smile and she slotted herself between his legs, his hands finding her waist. “Well maybe if you got off this stool and came out to play.”

Rowan started to frown but Aelin kept his attention. “Hey, I’m kidding. I get it. Funny thing is that I invited him so you would have someone to talk to. Maybe I should have invited Lorcan instead, except he’d never say yes to me.” Rowan managed a laugh at that. “And I definitely don’t have more fun with Fen, trust me.” Aelin added earnestly.

“It certainly looks like it,” Rowan grumbled.

Aelin slid that much closer, her mouth right by his ear. “Oh yeah? Well, would I ever let him…”

She whispered in his ear, so close the breath that accompanied her words tickled his skin, making him break out in goosebumps. They were words that described something obscene about sliding on fire poles, on his fire pole to be exact. When she pulled away Aelin’s smile was feline and Rowan felt his cheeks heat.

“Can we go now, please?” Rowan’s voice was nowhere near as smooth or confident as he wanted it to be.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Aelin said. Rowan stood and went to take his glasses off but Aelin stopped him, her hands running up his arms to where his sleeves were rolled up. “You’ll be leaving those on. All night, if you please, Mr Whitethorn.” 

~~~~~

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this silliness. 

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[visander]

Promises to Keep | Ao3.

When Alec adopted a warlock, he expected that people would be watching him closely. He didn't expect the High Warlock to follow him while he was running errands.

This is my ‘Spy AU’ square for @shadowhunterbingo.

Spying on a shadowhunter wasn’t exactly how Magnus intended to spend his evening but when you were the High Warlock, sometimes you found yourself doing things that you wished desperately you could pass off on someone else. Yet, there was no one to pass this off to. So, Magnus found himself dawning a glamour and following a shadowhunter around New York all evening.

See, the shadowhunter in question wasn’t just any shadowhunter. The shadowhunter was Alexander Lightwood, Head of the Institute and as of recently, caretaker to a baby who had only been discovered to be a warlock in the past week. Magnus offered to take the child as soon as the news reached him. It was part of his job after all to take any warlock children found in New York and relocate them to somewhere suitable but Alexander had declined.

He told Magnus that the child being a warlock didn’t change anything for him and that he had been caring for Max for months and he would continue to do so. Which was a lovely sentiment but a shadowhunter caring for a baby warlock? Even if Alexander himself was an abnormally strong ally to the downworld, which he was, a warlock growing up in an Institute tended to lead to problems. Malcolm had grown up in an Institute and that story had gone sideways, even if it had taken years for it to do so. Magnus wasn’t looking for a repeat of that situation with this tiny new warlock.

Now, Magnus liked Alexander and he was sure that the man had the best intentions but the child in his care being a warlock undoubtedly changed things, if not for him then for the people around him. Magnus was spying on Alec to make sure the child was being cared for and to make sure that none of Alec’s colleagues took it upon themselves to fix the warlock problem on their own. If he had any reason to think the child didn’t belong in Alec’s care, it was his duty to rectify the situation.

Magnus would feel bad about invading Alec’s privacy, if there was not a child involved. Because there was, Magnus was entirely guiltless as he followed behind Alec into the city. Alec had left the Institute a few minutes earlier with a bundle of blue skin curled onto his chest, attached rather carefully with a piece of fabric that Magnus had never quite understood how to wrap. Alec carried a small bag with him and even from where he was standing, Magnus could see a bottle peeking out of the zipper.

Magnus found himself a little impressed. Clearly, Alec was prepared but that didn’t exactly change anything. Even well prepared shadowhunters could fail, especially when they were doing something as impossible as raising a baby warlock.

The baby blabbered happily against Alec’s chest as he walked and Alec cooed softly to him, hushing quiet tender words that Magnus was too far away to hear. If it warmed his heart a little - well, no one needed to know that and it was certainly not something Magnus was going to be telling anyone.

Alec’s walk took them to a small store, where Alec bought baby food and other essentials that Magnus supposed the Institute did not stock for him. Outside, Alec took a moment to carefully put everything into the bag he was carrying. The food went into a specific pocket, the diapers into another, until everything was put away carefully and neatly.

The baby, Max as Alec had named him, chewed on the pacifier Alec had given him and watched what Alec was doing with a wide eyed interest that Magnus only associated with babies. When Alec finished, he shifted to push the bag onto his back, pull the baby closer and head off again. Magnus had expected Alec to go back to the Institute but he didn’t. Instead, he started walking towards a small park that Magnus had always been particularly fond of.

Magnus had never thought of shadowhunters enjoying simple pleasures like parks and he found it a little hard to believe that was where Alec was going but when they reached the park, Alec did stop. He settled at the base of a tree after peering around for a contemplative moment. He stretched out a small blanket next to him and then, he started to unwrap Max from his chest.

The moment Alec lifted the baby off him, the baby’s legs started kicking through the air at the newfound freedom he had. Alec laid the gleefully child onto the blanket next to him and then, he slipped a blade out of his back pocket and placed it down carefully on the opposite side of him, far out of the baby's reach. The discordance of seeing a deadly weapon on one of Alec’s sides and a baby on the other almost made Magnus laugh but Magnus wasn’t sure what else he was expecting from a shadowhunter.

Magnus was about to settle against a tree or decide to leave Alec to the privacy he thought he had for the rest of the night when Alec spoke without looking over.

“You can come sit, if you’d like,” Alec murmured.

Magnus froze and it took him too long of a moment to realize that Alec was in fact talking to him. He had to be. There was no one else in the park, besides the baby who he could not be referring to. Magnus shifted uncomfortably as Alec lifted his eyes and peered towards Magnus at last.

Magnus expected him to look angry but there was something in his eyes that was subdued and just a little amused. Alec held his hand idly over the baby, wiggling his fingers as Max reached his blue hands up to try to contain Alec’s fingers in his tiny grasp.

Magnus hesitantly took a step forward and when Alec said nothing further, Magnus took a few more steps until he was only a few feet away from the pair he’d been following. “I’m sorry to have invaded your privacy,” Magnus said finally. He and Alec had a strong professional relationship up until this point and if this ruined it… well, that would hardly be productive at all and it would certainly make it a lot harder for Magnus to keep an eye on Max.

But Alec didn’t seem exceptionally concerned by what Magnus had been doing. Instead, he waved his free hand vaguely in Magnus’ direction. “It’s fine. Come sit,” Alec said again, nodding his head to the spot across from Max, pointedly away from the weapon Alec had laid on the ground.

Knowing now that Alec had known he was there, Magnus wondered if he’d put the weapon down to make him more comfortable. Magnus didn’t ask. Instead, he walked around Alec and settled to the ground, watching Alec idly play with the baby who seemed so distracted by Alec’s hand that he hardly noticed Magnus’ arrival.

“I was trying to check on- '' Magnus had been about to go on and explain that he’d only been trying to keep an eye on Max, who was a warlock in his jurisdiction but Alec made a soft noise and Magnus fell silent before he could finish his sentence.

“I know what you were doing.” Alec looked up at Magnus and offered him a soft, bittersweet smile. “I expected someone to be checking up on us. Though, I didn’t quite expect to be followed running errands.”

Magnus swallowed a little uncomfortably. He wasn't embarrassed to have been following Alec. It was his job. He was making sure the child in his care was being cared for, something that was of grave concern in this odd situation. He was a little embarrassed to have been caught so easily and not even have known it but with a shadowhunter, Magnus wasn’t really sure what he expected.

“Well, I can’t exactly watch you while you’re in the Institute. My spying options were a bit limited.”

Alec shrugged. He had let Max grab his hand at last and the baby was happily chewing on one of Alec’s fingers. “You could,” Alec said simply. “You have the clearance to come in whenever you’d like. I don’t mind if you want to come watch.”

Magnus fell silent at that. Finally, he cocked his head, “I don’t know many people who would be so welcoming at the prospect of being observed.”

Alec lifted his eyes up to meet Magnus’ again and when he smiled this time, there was some genuine amusement on his face. “I don’t know many shadowhunters who adopt a warlock baby.” Again, Alec shrugged as he looked back down to the baby still clutching his hand. “I get why your people might be concerned. I’d rather you stop in and be able to assure everyone that I’m caring for my child.”

“Your child?” Magnus questioned. Magnus knew Alec’s intentions to keep the child but Magnus still found it hard to believe that a shadowhunter would so willingly accept a child into his life that was not a shadowhunter like they’d thought when they’d first found the baby on the steps of the Academy months before.

“My child,” Alec confirmed. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in his tone and Magnus found himself pressing his lips to suppress the small smile that had threatened to come across his face.

“Well, perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow morning. If you’re not incredibly busy?”

Alec looked up and Magnus could see instantly that he was relieved. It took a second for Magnus to think over the conversation they’d just had and see why. Magnus’ question of Alec’s wording, to Alec, might not have seemed like an inquiry into Alec’s intentions like Magnus had meant it. It might have seemed like an attack on Alec’s claim on this child.

Alec had expected Magnus to try and take the baby, Magnus realized. He’d thought Magnus was going to challenge him and demand that he take the child to someone more suited to care for him.

“You can come even if I’m busy,” Alec insisted. “When I’m working, he stays with my siblings but you can come anyway. I’ll tell them to let you in.”

Magnus nodded and he could have left it at that but there was something about the hopeful, earnest way that Alec spoke that made Magnus frown. “I hope you’re not offended if I take you up on that,” Magnus said finally.

“Of course not,” Alec said instantly.

Magnus frowned a bit deeper. “Your situation is a little… unorthodox but if you are caring for him, I don’t see any reason why that would be a problem,” Magnus said at last. Truthfully, there were some who thought Magnus should go and take the child anyway. He would be well within his right to and Alec would be able to do nothing about it.

Some thought Magnus should do so before Alec could raise a warlock to do the Institute’s bidding. Some who had met Alec and like Magnus, had a professional respect for him, admired his intentions but still thought Magnus should take the child away. An Institute was not a kind place for a baby warlock and Magnus would be lying if he said that wasn’t a concern for him still but Magnus didn’t think taking the child away would be best.

Even if Magnus did take the child, finding someone to care for a young warlock was not easy. Few warlocks wanted the task themselves and few people besides a warlock could handle the uncontrollable magic that came with a warlock who was so small. It might not be the best situation but as long as Alec stepped in the moment any of his people thought it appropriate to bother the boy, Magnus didn’t really see a problem with it.

The Institute was warded and protected. If it wasn’t for the shadowhunters themselves, it might be one of the best places for the small warlock to be.

At his words, Alec’s hand fell still as the tiny baby continued to play with his fingers gleefully. “Lorenzo Rey doesn’t think I should be able to keep him,” Alec said simply.

Magnus almost scoffed. “It’s not up to Lorenzo to make that decision,” Magnus assured him quickly. “Lorenzo hasn’t been in New York long anyway. He’s not very well acquainted with you or your family. If he knew you a bit more, he might feel otherwise.” Truthfully, Magnus doubted that Lorenzo would feel otherwise. Lorenzo was an aggravating pest of a man and he’d probably protest to a warlock being cared for by a shadowhunter regardless of how progressive said shadowhunter was but Magnus didn’t think it would be helpful for him to tell Alec this.

“I’m not worried about Lorenzo specifically but I’d just like your people to know that I’m taking care of him.”

Magnus processed that for a moment before he spoke. Even knowing Alec, Magnus found himself a bit surprised by that sentiment. He didn’t know many shadowhunters who would be worried about what the warlock population thought about anything they did, especially when Magnus had already assured Alec that the child would stay in his care, unless Magnus was given a reason to think he shouldn’t.

“Show me that you’re taking care of him and I will tell them,” Magnus promised.

A moment later, Magnus rose to his feet, brushed his pants off and moved to turn away, intent on meeting Alec the next morning, like he’d said he would. It was only when Magnus had taken a few steps that Alec called out to him, making Magnus pause and turn back to look.

Alec had pulled the baby into his lap and was in the process of shoving the blanket back into the bag with one hand as he cradled the baby tenderly in the other. When Magnus looked back at him, Alec smiled soft and grateful. “Thank you,” he said. “I will take care of him,” Alec assured.

Magnus smiled himself and nodded. Magnus still had his doubts. One rather personal meeting with a charming shadowhunter who made grand promises was not enough for Magnus to feel assured of anything. Alec might think he could do this now, until the child’s magic started to manifest fully for the first time. Alec might think he could do this until his people started to protest at the presence of a warlock who was no longer a baby in their Institute.

Alec might just be lying to him. It wouldn’t be the first time a shadowhunter had hid their true intentions from Magnus but beyond his reasoning, Magnus found himself hoping that Alec meant it. He found himself hoping that Alec did intend to care for the baby like it was his own.

Alec would be a good father and Magnus knew more than most how much warlocks deserved and rarely got someone like that in their lives.

Magnus walked away and he hoped that Alec Lightwood would not come to disappoint him.