#him in that fit with that hair desperately needed an electric guitar

[jkpng]

band drawing update: taehyung looks so fucking cool i have to make sure i finish this so i can show off taehyung. jungkook looks a lil weird and jimin is fucked up and needs work but taehyung looked good IMMEDIATELY 😤💪 i feel like ill be more likely to finish if i yap abt it here. accountability yipee

[upsidedownwithsteve]

hello! first I wanted to say that I absolutely love your fics! you’re one of my fav authors!!!!

for the camp requests, could you write something about eddie and reader’s first time? if it’s okay of course! ❤️ lots of love!!

It happened after a shot of liquid courage. Just one, a tiny glass of whisky that burned, shared with Eddie and his table of friends.

It was a Friday and you’d let him after class, a hole in the wall bar where he’d introduced you to people you’d yet to meet. They were as warm as he was, just as welcoming, band mates and old school friends, kids he’d grown up with. They all greeted you with recognition, knowing smiles and kind eyes, ‘cause this was the girl that stole Eddie’s heart. This was Michigan. This was the girl from camp. Eddie’s girl.

And after that one drink, a band from town you’d never heard of came onto the tiny stage and the lights dimmed. Eddie let you lean on him, your back to his chest so he could wrap his arms around you. His touch felt different, more intense, purposeful, more lovely than ever. But with weeks and days and hours spent kissing and touching, making out on your sofa, stealing silent orgasms from his fingers and tongue in his bedroom, you were fit to burst, craving the slide of his hands along your bare skin, his lips at your neck promising more.

Maybe it had been the way you’d looked up at him, neck craned back, eyes heavy, bottom lip tucked between teeth. A shy smile exchanged, his gaze turning warm, his hands skating over your stomach to sit on your hips and well—

You both stayed for two songs, the second barely over as you said your goodbyes to Eddie’s amused friends over the sounds of an echoing guitar.

You made it back to your place before Eddie had you up against the door, the wrong side of it, too impatient. He kissed you in your hiding hallway, door handle digging into your spine but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Something silent had been agreed, a knowing between the both of you that felt like the unravelling of a tightly wound knot.

Eddie swallowed your whines, tongue dipping to slide against yours, your hands pulling a little too meanly at his curls and you both tumbled into your apartment when you heard Mrs Crookston open her neighbouring door and tut in disapproval.

You barely made it to your bed.

Something was knocked over in the kitchen as you passed through, Eddie swearing when he kicked the leg of your coffee table, laughs pressed into mouths over the impatience of it all, the eagerness, the need.

But then clothes were shed, a breadcrumb trail of desperation, leading from your narrow hallway to the bedroom: a shirt left on the sofa, a shoe by the refrigerator, its twin at the bathroom door.

Everything else went slow from there, hands - guitar string calloused and wide - ghosting up your legs to nudge open your thighs and then a tongue, soft and flat, licking up into you with an electric touch.

That was familiar, that wasn’t new. That was all Eddie, greedy and moaning into you, sucking and kissing, bringing you upupup until you hung over an edge no one could see but shit, the boy could feel it, the way you clenched down on his fingers, the way your stomach tightened under his palm.

You tugged hard at his hair, whining out a soft apology that Eddie missed away when he crawled back up your body. Then there was the careful tear of foil, square packet discarded somewhere in the sheets as Eddie kissed you soft and lovely, whispering against your cheek as you arched all prettily into him.

Things like, “shit, sweetheart. Yeah? Are you sure? This okay?”

And you replied in a shaky voice, almost too breathy to be recognised as your own. “Yeah, yeah Eddie, please,” you whispered back.

He slid in inch by inch, a hot stretch that made you both let out dirty sounds, your nails digging into his waist, his hands warm as they held your thighs open for him and then, and then—

Bliss.

It was a slow roll of hips, the soft sounds of skin on skin until patience wore thin and things got a little too much. Eddie’s hands shook when he tangled them with your own, both of yours in one of his as he held it above you on the pillow, his free one hitched underneath your knee. He pressed himself into you, a dirty grind that had you throwing your head back, eyes shut tight.

But Eddie gasped out a protest, voice a low and rough rasp that made you loft your leg higher around his hip, desperate to get closer.

“Open your eyes, baby, please,” he’d begged, hips pumping faster. “Wanna see you, let me see you.”

Baby.

“Babybabybaby,” Eddie had groaned, losing what little control he’d held onto, ‘cause you were close and he could feel it. “Yeah? Shit, you gonna come for me?”

You’d nodded, lips parted in a silent gasp, pupils blown wide as you stared up at him. Then Eddie let go of your hands and swore when you scrabbled at his shoulders, pulling him down to you, nails scratching over the nape of his neck and the press of him against your clit made you keen high, falling apart almost too easily.

Eddie followed, gasping out your name like a prayer, like something to be worshipped. Then it was all shyness and soft hands, Eddie’s pink cheeks and kisses that made you feel like spun sugar. The boy was gentle when he wiped a warm cloth between your thighs, smiled a little smug when you pulled on some clean underwear and his camp sweater. It smelled like your perfume now, your laundry detergent, void of campfire smoke and splashes from the lake.

But the boy beside you still smelled like summer and rain and he let you wrap yourself around him, his hand running along your back until your breathing returned to normal.

[veeples-archive]

musicalis interruptus

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles ship: specialist agent mason x faustus word count: ~800 warnings: minimal suggestive text 🤷 set around general book three-ish. it's summer.

Cutting Faustus’s hair hadn’t been in their plans.

Plans weren’t really structured a thing, but they’d established a pattern. Expectation. Watching some shit ass horror movie Faustus dug out of a bargain bin. A pack of cheap beer shared on the warehouse’s roof with only each other and the stars for company. Sometimes not talking to each other at all, only the sound of Faustus picking his guitar and scribbling notes between them.

It was all pretense for one thing, really: a bed or a couch or an alley if they were both desperate enough, Faustus under him, or him under Faustus, tallying each time they’d made the other come undone.

(Faustus is in the lead by two. He doesn’t play fair, especially when it comes to his mouth, but Mason finds it hard to fault him for playing dirty when it does it so damn well.)

They know the game, they play it well. 

Yet here is instead. In Faustus’s kitchen because the bathroom was too small to fit them both, a halo of black hair around his feet, an electric razor pressed into his hand to clear the overgrown backside Faustus couldn’t reach. At least Faustus had clipped and sheared the front and top himself.

“Gonna miss this fringe on you.” Mason runs his pointer finger around the black hair curling down Faustus’s neck. When Mason first met Faustus four months ago – Had it already been four months? Had it only been four months? – it’d been short and neat. “Like having something to pull.”

Mason catches the eye roll in the mirror Faustus propped on the kitchen table. “Me too, sunshine, but you don’t have to put up with the dumbass way it sticks up in the morning. Besides, it’s getting too hot to have it this long.”

Mason understands. He’s started pulling back the bulk of his hair into a loose ponytail to stave off the summer heat encroaching down on them. It didn’t explain why Faustus had decided that Mason of all people needed to cut his hair in the middle of Reanimator.

“No shit.” Mason thumbs the switch of the razor. He hates to say he’s hesitating, but most of his experience with tending to his own hair was trimming the dead ends, and even then it was only something he did every few months. “You know I’ve never done this crap before, don’t you.”

“It’s just hair. Even if you manage to fuck it up it’ll grow back.” Faustus shrugs one shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me this backwater town doesn’t even have a lousy barber.” 

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’ve trusted you with more than just a pair of fucking clippers, Mason.” Faustus twists in the worn kitchen chair to grin up at him. One hand hovers close to the one holding the razor, as if in motion to take it. 

Mason pulls the razor away and sneers at the smirk he receives in turn. “If you end up bald in the back don’t blame me, handsome.”

“Unless you fuck around with the settings I won’t. Anyway, wouldn’t I look hot as a cue ball?” Faustus bats his eyelashes, voice all plastic sweetness.

“No.” Yes. “Are you going to turn around so I can do this or what?”

Dramatics aside, Mason knows there’s a nugget of honesty hidden in it. Faustus trusts him. It’s a more plain show of truth than he’s come to expect from the detective who lies as easy as he breathes. Mason figures he can at least put in some amount of effort to not screw up his hair for it.

Lengths of hair fall away as Mason pushes the razor up the curve of Faustus’s head with no real grace or finesse. Mason goes slow, methodical. Faustus offers some direction, telling him where to stop, taking the razor to change the setting, and giving it back. They pass twenty minutes like this, swapping banter with the razor, until finally Mason does his best to neaten the back into an even line.

It’s not bad. It’s not great, either. The back’s a little choppy, but so are the bangs that Faustus took a naked razor to. Messy, punk, but fitting; Mason feels proud enough that Faustus doesn’t look like he went through a wood shredder. 

“You’re done.”

Faustus’s fingers reach back around his neck, skimming the jagged half circle scarred into his skin, feeling the sharpness of freshly cut fuzz. He sighs his approval, rolls his head back. Upside-down smiles at Mason, all syrupy laziness.

“Thanks,” Faustus says, reaching for him. Mason shuffles forward, leans down when Faustus tugs the loose flap of his shirt. “Feel better already.”

Faustus kisses him with a curious gentleness Mason is becoming more familiar with.

He’d kissed him like that after they saved that fortune teller woman in Mason’s bedroom when he’d been expecting fire instead of warmth. Mason had kissed Faustus like that at the bakery without understanding why. He still doesn’t. He doesn’t care to explore it either.

It’s enough to know Mason never liked kissing anyone more than he likes kissing Faustus.

“C’mon.” Faustus says as he rocks forward out of the chair, hair fluttering around him, immediately ignored. “We still gotta finish Re-animator so we can put on Bride of Re-animator.”

[n1cholaswang]

CHERRY WAVES — HHJ

nonidol!au — bestfriend!junhan x afab!reader (sorry for my guys & non-binary pals)

cw: absolute FILTH. the idea of face fucking. exhibitionism. mutual pining. drinking. speeding. rough sex. breeding. idk lemme know if i missed something

wc: 1.9k (istg i thought it was longer)

a/n: xdinary heroes' cb stage got me actin a damn fool 😭 next up is gunil i swear.

you and hyeongjun have been friends since you were in diapers, living next to each other and growing up together.

you were there when he found his passion for music, when he bought his first electric guitar, when he had his first gig, and he was thankful for you.

everybody in both your families and at school thought you were a couple but that simply wasn't the case.

or at least, it wasn't for you.

hyeongjun was desperately in love with you, but your crush for his bandmate seungmin was the only thing standing in the way of him asking you out.

one night when he was doing a gig at a small bar, he noticed you in the crowd wearing an outfit that was perfect for your body.

it showed off all your assets and made you resemble a succubus.

his grip on his guitar tightened as his cock hardened under his jeans, unintentionally playing a short sour note. the note went unnoticed by the crowd but not by gunil who looked over at him briefly with eyebrows furrowed.

hyeongjun was not one to mess up, not in practice or on stage. it just wasn't in his nature but how could he play perfectly when a breathtaking sight was standing in front of him?

you couldn't help but notice his never ending, unchanging gaze. a stare that was unfamiliar to you as he has never looked at you this way before.

he somehow was able to manage to get through the show without any more slip ups, but now his lower half was painfully hard and he needed to get off that stage as soon as possible.

usually he'd hide away in the bathroom and be able to get one off before having to go home but there was such a long line for the bathroom, he couldn't wait.

he helped his band members put away their instruments to the van in the meantime though his cock was screaming for attention.

then, you came outta nowhere.

"you guys did amazing, per usual", you squealed while giving each of them a hug

"but i suppose i can't expect anything but perfection from y'all"

when you hugged hyeongjun, you felt a hardness poking at your skin and he cursed at himself in his head for letting his sinful thoughts get the best of him.

all he wanted to do was push your precious head down and fuck your mouth in front of everybody, especially seungmin.

he decided to (awkwardly) hug you back, his hands going down from your shoulders to the small of your back then to your waist, lightly pushing you away.

his featherlight yet stern touch lingered on your skin and you couldn't quite figure out why.

your eyes scanned hyeongjun up and down over and over again with each look making him delicious in a way you couldn't explain.

his fluffy wavy hair all in the way, making him shake it out of his eyes or move it manually, his half zip-up, half button-up shirt fitting his slim frame gracefully, his reddish-orange jeans hugging his thighs and the outline of his cock beautifully.

holy shit.

you didn't notice how god-like he was until now.

the you from 5 years ago would be beating you up right now if they knew you were practically drooling over your best friend.

to distract and distance yourself, you made your way inside the bar again. you sat on one of the stools and asked for a shot of their darkest and strongest liquor.

one shot became two, which became three, then four, five, six, seven...

and here you were, "singing" along to rihanna and "dancing" around with some stranger.

the stranger's hands were all over your body, not that you minded. simply because you in your drunken state thought those hands were hyeongjun's.

you moaned when those hands gripped your waist tightly and pressed your ass against a hard-on.

you grinded against it, feeling yourself getting warm. but the warmth wasn't too long as you were pulled away quite quickly.

you looked up and seen the thing that pulled you away wasn't a thing at all.

it was hyeongjun.

he leaned down into your ear, "what the hell are you doing?"

"enjoying myself!"

"maybe a little too much", he wrapped two fingers around your wrist, "i'll take you home"

"i can take care of myself, thank you very much!"

you yanked your arm away and turned to walk away but you didn't get far. he pulled you back into him, colliding with his chest.

"that wasn't a question nor was it a suggestion"

his voice low but serious matched with how his fingers stayed glued to your hips and his cock poking you from behind made your mind go blank.

next thing you know, you're in the car with him, hyeongjun's knuckles turning white with how harshly he's gripping the steering wheel.

you look over and notice he was going 100 in a 45.

"jun...", you slur, "slow down"

"are you insane? dancing with someone you don't even know?", there was anger laced in his usually soft voice, "who know what would've happened to you if i wasn't there"

"but im- fine"

he scoffed and shook his head, turning the corner so sharply you thought you were gonna fly out the window.

somehow, you made it back to your place alive. you notice your roommate's car wasn't there and you smile to yourself, finally getting hyeongjun alone.

"d'you wa'a come inside?"

"considering i don't think you can make it out of this car without falling on your face? yes"

hyeongjun turned off the car and got out, your eyes following him as he walked around the front of the car to the passenger side, opening the door and helping you out.

you purposely tripped over air to get closer to him, his natural scent and cologne mixing with the stench of alcohol made you even more drunk.

"my point exactly: you just tripped"

you fell back into the car door, shutting it and pulling hyeongjun into you, then the two of you began to stare into each other's eyes.

if the sexual tension wasn't obvious before, it was definitely obvious now.

your hands gripped onto his blouse tighter, pulling him slightly closer.

"what is it, [name]?"

his question was asked in such a small tone, you thought he was whispering. but really he was just trying not to crack.

"tell me what you want"

you whimpered softly and rubbed your thighs together, hoping he'd get the hint.

and he did.

hyeongjun's arms trapped you in between his body and the car, not that you minded at all. you just wish he'd get closer.

and your wish was granted.

his lips brushed against your cheek to get to your ear, "i won't do anything unless you tell me what it is you want"

your breathing became uneven. he was so close, you could've swore he could hear your heart pounding.

"i want you", you breathed out.

"yeah?", one of his arms slid down and wrapped around your waist, "finally you want me? after all these years?"

you decide to play his game and bring one of your legs to his waist.

"you can either fuck me or you can leave, i'll just get seungmin here"

his eyes flashed an angry stare before he turned you around and bent you over the car hood.

hyeongjun let his hands roam from the soft material of a light jacket around your shoulders down to the cropped vest to the black undershirt then to the flimsy dark striped skirt that didn't even reach your mid thigh.

he flipped the skirt up and admired how your ass looked in the tights before taking them in his hands and ripping it perfectly to access your core.

hyeongjun let two fingers slide up and down between your folds, gathering the never ending wetness to taste.

the bittersweet taste of you intoxicated him, made him drunk on pussy that he hasn't properly tasted yet. and if he wasn't in such a rush to cum, you two would be out there for hours, his head between your thighs as he slurps up all the juices dripping from you.

he unbuttons his jeans and pulls them, along with his boxers, down enough for his hardness to spring out.

he tapped himself against your wetness, arousal messily coating the tip of his cock.

hyeongjun couldn't wait any longer and neither could you, reaching around and lining him up with your desperate hole.

the moment he pushed himself in was the same moment he fell apart as a man.

he thought jooyeon was kidding when he said pussy can make a man fold in seconds.

his ringed fingers tightly wrapped around the skirt and bunched it up around your waist, fucking himself into you at a speed that made your head fuzzy, eyes heavy, and vision blurry.

you didn't know he could fuck like this: so rough, so calculated, so mind-blowing.

his cock was angled so perfectly, he was teasingly brushing against that gummy spot that made you wanna cum instantly and you know he knew it.

the way your walls pulsed around him only made him thrust deeper as he laid on your back, nibbling on your neck.

"is this what you wanted?", he sighed, "just wanted me to put you in your place huh?"

the way his hips smashed against yours had you seeing stars and moaning like a porn star.

hyeongjun put his hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds you were making.

"hush now my dear. don't want your neighbors callin' the cops"

"more importantly...", he started pounding into you, your body sliding up the car hood with each harsh snap of his hips, "don't want nobody else hearin' how good you sound for me"

you reached back with a shaky hand and turned your head, kissing him with much passion, desperation, and love.

he kissed you back and hummed into your mouth, feeling how you tighten around him.

hyeongjun's skillful fingers lightly tapped your clit which, between his relentless fucking and the little bursts of pleasure, threw you over the edge.

your knees buckled, pussy burying his cock deep inside of you, and moans being swallowed by hyeongjun's mouth. your legs shook beneath his but he didn't stop.

he felt a wave of wetness cover his cock from inside, but he still didn't stop.

he wanted you withering around him; entire body shaking in pleasure, begging him to stop but quickly tightening around his cock every time he tries to pull even an inch out.

but, he remembered you were outside so it's not like he could fuck you into oblivion here. so, he pulled out, much to your dismay as you sobbed from the sudden disappearance.

"wanna fuck you properly, on a bed"

you didn't hesitate to pull yourself up from the hood and walk to your front door with his still rock hard cock in hand.

hyeongjun was not good at keeping his word. he didn't even wait to get to the bedroom before he bent you over and started fucking you again as harshly as before, making you cry out in pleasure and your legs give out.

he grabs your hips and helps you stand on shaky legs all the while he's still pounding into you.

you have no idea who this man was and what he did with the real han hyeongjun but you weren't complaining, especially when he was cumming a seemingly uncontrollable amount inside of you, muttering and whimpering about pumping you full of cum every day until you're pregnant.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[bangtangalicious]

death valley (m) | part 5

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: yoongi x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 6.9k (hehe)

warnings: reader discretion advised. multiple & explicit smut scenes, rough sex, oral sex, coersive sex, yandere behaviors, heavy drug use, sex while intoxicated, implied use of date rape drugs, GUNS, shootings, breast play, a literal fire (bultaoreune lol), begging, dom!yoongi, softdom!taehyung, choking, manipulation, kidnapping, feelings of fear, crying, unwanted advances, cuddles with jin, reader needs a shower damn, jin calls you a dumb fuck (in the nicest way possible?), everyone has abs

a/n: rock with me baby ;) this one’s short n steamy bc full disclosure streaming butter became my full time job for a hot few days, but ill make up for it. make the next one nice n spicy

part 0 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | series navi | masterlist |

F L A S H B A C K—

The clink of the ice cubes against the plastic rim of your rum and coke fade against the pounding electric guitar, echoing through the enclosed walls. Red dice tumble onto the wood floors and cherry lips smack against bated breaths. Your attention is lost in the swirl of your bendy straw as you gnawed away at the flaccid tip.

The leather jacket felt snug around you, and you were unsure if it was the skewed ratio of alcohol in your drink or the blushing reminder that this was Park Jimin’s jacket around you that had you feeling a deep glow within yourself. You waited, hoping he would come claim back what was his. After chasing him for so long, he finally noticed you.

“How you doin love?” Your head turned to meet a sweet, dark chocolate gaze. Just bitter enough to leave you wanting another taste. His plaid shirt was tight around his slim figure, flowing over tight black jeans. You felt his hand on the small of your back, laying a bit lower than you would’ve liked. His other hand tugged the straw from your chapped lips to bring it to his own as he sipped your drink before letting out a heavy sigh. “Sweet” He licked his lips, grinning at you.

“Hey there. You part of the crew?” You batted your eyelashes at him, letting your naughty fingers fiddle with the collar of his shirt. Maybe if Jimin saw you with another man he would get jealous. It was worth a try. The man smirked. 

“Yeah. My name is Min Suga, I’m one of Jimin’s sound engineers” He ruffled his white hair, the ends of which were damp with sweat, “Enjoy the show tonight?”

And so commenced a flirtatious conversation, while you buttered up the young musician, he slid a white powder into the drink he offered to make you. The haze of the night was remembered only by fits of giggles and the hot touch of the stranger and his gorgeous silver rings as they touched every part of you, leaving you a mess of small pants and eager moans. It wasn’t long before he pulled you into his lap and you could feel his desperate arousal pressing between your legs. 

You watched as he lit a cigarette and pushed the tip between your lips. The pout of your lips as you inhaled had him grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him. You twirled the bud in your nimble fingers before he took it from you, taking a hit himself. A few puffs later, the alcohol was hitting you strong, and in the grey smoke that clouded your eyes, you began to see another face entirely. 

“Minnie” You groaned, forcing your chest to squeeze against his as much as you could. You wanted nothing more than to burn the clothes off your body and feel him, every inch of him in every way. You nibbled his ear. He took the burning end of the cigarette and pressed it into your shoulder.

“Wanna get out of here, love?” You nodded your head, a wave of tiredness hitting you as you fell limp into his arms. 

He brought you to a nearby motel, chaining your arms to the headboard before diving into you like a starved man. You only remember feeling pure bliss, finally having the man you had dreamt of ravish you like you always wanted. 

He choked you, muffling your desperate sounds into a pillow as you cried out “Faster Jimin….please go faster I need...I need you…please”

You had fallen asleep right after, completely unconscious as he fucked you over and over again. He pounded your tired body feverishly before he heard angry knocking at the door. The door burst open and he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Get the fuck out of here before I call the police you bastard”

When you finally woke up, he was gone. The headache you were left with did nothing to distract you from the piercing guilt in your heart when you realized what had happened. You barely remembered anything about the boy you had just slept with, but as you looked at Jimin’s jacket tossed on the floor, you knew that the man you had fucked had definitely not been him. 

P R E S E N T   D A Y—

No...it couldn’t be. Please don’t let it be true. A feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach. You desperately tried to get your mind to stay ignorant to the reality that was now showing you its face. Yoongi. 

He glanced your way with those alluring eyes, unbothered as always. Even now you yearned for a reaction. He gave you nothing. You were rendered useless, confused, dazed, and utterly lost.

“Don’t worry it’s just me” He leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. His lips lingered slightly, and you could hear him inhale sharply as he placed his fingers on your chin. 

In the cool moonlight, his dark eyes glimmered. In his gaze was a fantasy you wanted to slip away in. You couldn’t help yourself. Every fiber of your being was screaming for you to turn away -- but you couldn’t. Stings of that night pierced the top of your back. The aching pain still between your legs the morning after. 

You heard him curse under his breath. His lips barely touching yours before he softly spoke “I’m sorry if I scared you love” He turned away briefly, “Taehyung told me that someone was threatening Jin with your life. I had to make sure you were safe.” 

You gave Taehyung a look, praying that somehow he could read your thoughts and give you some answers, but he didn’t meet your eyes. His eyes were glued to the road. You had never seen him this serious ever. 

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you. Let’s just go home okay?” Yoongi sighed, tracing his nose down your neck, breathing you in. You squirmed as his hand slid beneath your collar and softly clenched your breast. 

You let out a soft moan as he squeezed you. “Wait d...don’t” The tone of your voice contrasting your pleads as your eyes fluttered shut, fading away in the sensation of his electrifying touch.

“Yoongi” His advancements halted at the sound of Taehyung’s stern voice. “She said don’t” He growled lightly. You see a glimpse of Yoongi rolling his eyes in the mirror before he sank back into the seat. You turn to Taehyung, who’s jaw was clenched tight. Knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He pulled up in front of your building, you tried to reach for him, shaking his knee slightly. 

“Taehyung” You whispered as Yoongi stepped out of the car, “Hey...what’s really going on?” You see him gulp. Yoongi tapped on your window expectantly. “Taehyung please” He shook his head, chuckling bitterly while covering his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Yoongi finally got impatient and opened the door, dragging you out. He pulled you into a light embrace, kissing your forehead before waving to Taehyung.

Back in his apartment, Yoongi led you carefully back to his bedroom. He pulled down the back of your shirt to look at the scars he had given you the previous night. You had almost forgotten about them. He ran his finger over the tender flesh, causing you to wince. He pressed his lips behind your ear, causing them to flush with heat as he pulled your shirt off of you. 

“W...what did you write on me?” Your voice wavered with fear.

Tossing the garment aside, he turned you towards him, stroking his fingers over your cheeks gently. “My name”

You blinked as his fingers, “You...what?” You felt his tongue glide against your lips. “Yoongi what the fuck?” He sucked harshly as you tried backed away from him. “Are you crazy why would you...” He broke away and sighed, turning his back to you.

You watched as his silk shirt slid down his toned shoulders, revealing a beautiful tattoo. The one you had seen glimpses of. The prospect of which turned you on beyond reason. Y/n. It was your name.

You were trembling, unsure if you should feel afraid or not. “Yoongi...why?”

He smiled at you softly, and you watched as he began to pull the silver rings off of his fingers and set them onto his bedside table. From the same surface he grabbed a lighter. He advanced towards you, backing you against a window. The cool surface on your back did nothing to ease the overwhelming heat radiating within you. 

“When you’re young, it’s easy to do things that are really impulsive. So easy to get caught up in fantasies...you know how it is” Yoongi snapped the lighter between your faces, and you stared at the dancing flame. “Don’t you remember me?” The lighter began to flicker, on and off. As the fire captured your focus your mind began to digest his words. You met his eyes again, and everything clicked. You felt like someone punched you in the gut, all the air escaping your lungs instantly.

“You were a part of Jimin’s crew. I...I hooked up with you” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anything. Yoongi reached into his back pock and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it before tossing it aside. The smoke blurred your vision. He inhaled deeply before blowing out onto your neck. He smirked, setting it down and allowing his arms to circle your waist.

“Yeah you did. But you said the wrong name, so I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t forget again. A little payback if you will” You raised your eyebrows at him before he chuckled slightly, “Mm kidding love”

Yoongi’s fingers pulled at the back of your bra, bringing his forehead to your to see your eyes more clearly. The straps on your shoulders went loose as he unclipped the garment, allowing it to fall flat on the ground. He tilted your face to his. He hummed softly against your lips, savoring your taste, “It’s all in the past now. I’m sorry I hurt you but...I really want you. I want you so much. Do you want me love?”

You gulped, eyelashes brushing against his as you nodded slightly. An approving growl escaped him, giving you goosebumps as he kissed you deeply. 

He pulled away from you, moving his lips down your shoulder and your arm until his was sucking on your fingers. He took your hand and led you to the bed--to your surprise sitting himself down first, spreading his legs wide and bringing you onto his lap.

He grabbed under breast softly, pushing the tender mounds up with his palms and looked up at you. "I want you to show me” He spit on your chest, using his saliva and rubbing your nipples with his thumbs, “Show me how much you want me.” You arched your back as he pinched you harshly. 

“Yoongi” You clenched his black hair, digging your nails into his scalp. You pushed his face into your chest, falling over him. You felt his gasp for air between your breasts as he clenched your ass, dragging your shorts down. 

“Fucking goddess” He mumbled, the vibrations from his deep voice hitting you between your legs, making you melt into his lap. You rolled your hips, feeling his clothed cock against your damp folds. 

“I’m...so wet” You squealed, not caring how pathetic you sounded as you began grinding on his lap. Yoongi’s tongue wrapped around your right breast as you bounced on him. “Yoongi...Yoongi” You cried out, the sensations pushing you over the edge. “Fuck me please. Please.” You hear him laugh as you came, watching as a wet patch appeared on the crotch of his pants.

“That’s right, beg for me” Yoongi let his hands slide behind him, holding himself up as he watched you fuck yourself onto him silly. 

You felt tears well in your eyes, the frustration building in your core as it clenched down on nothing, desperately trying to ride out your high. “Want your cock. Please. Please Yoongi fuck...”

Yoongi reached back for his cigarette and took a quick puff as you began to sob. “Go ahead” He regarded you with a shrug. You wiped your tears and unbuttoned his jeans, scrambling to pull them off his long legs. With one hand holding himself up and the other twirling the cigarette, Yoongi watched as you pulled out his long, throbbing cock.

You dropped down, licking your lips before wrapping your tongue around his length. His eyes fluttered shut, leaning back as you filled your throat with him. “Fuck love...justttt like that. There you go” You could feel him thrusting up into you, pushing so deep down your throat you choked, gagging all over him sloppily. “You’re so beautiful” He pulled you back to him, tossing his cigarette aside to guide your hips so his cock lined up with your entrance.

"Wait...wait” You gasped, mixed emotions overwhelming you. You pressed your forehead against his, breathing in his hot breath, lips parted. He carefully sank you down onto him, the push of his length filling you to the brim “Oh fuck Yoongi” You could smell something burning, but your senses were too occupied with the feeling of Yoongi inside of you. He felt so incredibly right, and you wanted to just bask in the amazing fullness of him. His eyes were glued to yours. “I'm scared” You cried out softly. Yoongi froze as tears streaked your face.

“Scared of me?” He asked sincerely, eyes soft as you latched onto him, trembling. His heart clenched as you nodded, sniffling. “Why? I won’t hurt you” He stroked your back affectionately. 

“I like you...a lot. But there’s just...so much going on and I” You gasped, melting into him as you broke down. He shushed you softly, rocking you in his lap slightly, dick still shoved deep inside you. “It’s too much”

He kissed away your tears, bouncing you on his cock in light thrusts, “It’s okay...ssh...” You buried your face into his neck, hugging him tightly as he began to move your hips faster, up and down, squelching onto his cock as you cried. “Fuck your pussy is so perfect love, squeezing my cock like that”

Your eyes fluttered open as his thrusts became frantic. A small set of flames had collected around where Yoongi had thrown his cigarette. Your pussy clenched down as your blood ran cold, causing Yoongi to groan out in pleasure. You pat his back urgently, “Yoongi...stop.” His grip on you tightened as he began thrusting into you even faster, “Yoongi...LOOK.” Your words were lost. You tried to pull away from him but his hold on you was strong. “Yoongi!” You screamed, “There’s a fucking fire”

“Fuck” He cursed out bitterly, placing a hand over your mouth “Just shut up and let me finish” He shoved his fingers into your mouth, causing you to bite down as he hammered his cock up into you, hot cum shooting out and leaking down his length. The flames had spread across the bed, but Yoongi was quick to lift you up in his lap. He kissed your lips quickly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The flames grew bigger as Yoongi kept his lips glued to yours, eyes widening as you felt him get hard inside you again.

He pushed you against the wall, thrusting wildly, sweat dripping from his forehead as the heat increased. “I love you” He bit down on your lips, making you squirm in discomfort. “Say it...” Your eyes quivered with fear as the flames were getting closer.

“Yoongi we have to get out of here” You screamed. He smacked your thigh, thrusting you so hard that the back of your head was pounding against the wall. You felt dizzy, the burning scent overwhelming you. You felt like you wanted to puke.

“We will, once you say it” His words were soft, unlike the way he was fucking into you like a madman. You gasped for air, feeling dizzy and losing sense of reality. “I’d do anything for you...you know that right?” You gulped. Yoongi began laughing, his words making less and less sense as he chatted away hysterically, “I love you. I love you so much, you understand don’t you? Just say it back. Don’t be cruel. Just say it dammit.” He grabbed your neck and banged your head back onto the wall. Black spots appeared in your vision. You felt him cum again, filling every crevice of you with his sticky cum. You panicked, trying desperately to open you eyes. The carbon monoxide began to suffocate you, you began coughing out--desperately gasping for air.

Yoongi set you onto the ground before you heard a familiar spritz of a fire extinguisher. “Let’s get you in the cell” He mumbled, carrying you princess style and heading over to his second studio. He kicked the door open.

In the dimly lit cellar sat a ruthlessly beaten Jin looking back at him, his eyes full of rage. Yoongi set you down across from him before passing him an amused glance. “I told you I wasn’t messing around” He pulled out a silk robe, wrapping it around your naked body before walking out, locking the door behind him.

-

“Got it” The cheers of the arena echoed through as Hobi slipped his phone back into his pocket before grabbing his gun quickly before hopping into the ring, aiming it right at Jin. Jin growled, blood strained on his wrapped hands as he lifted them up in surrender. He looked down at Namjoon’s unconscious state and spat on him. “You’re a fucking idiot. You realize we’re gonna kill you and Y/n now right?”

Jin rolled his eyes, “Oh come onnnn Jung Hoseok. Do that and I’ll tell Jimin who really caused his little car accident and then watch how he fucking breaks hell on you”

Hobi stiffened, “How do you know that? Who the fuck told you that?”

“I know that, and I also know you drugged and kidnapped Namjoon and Y/n you sick fuck. Jimin’s gonna kill you first, I can almost guarantee it.” Jin sneered.

“W...who are you?” Hobi glanced around, “Do you work for Jimin?” He clicked his tongue, “Doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me” He pulled the trigger. A bullet shot into Jin’s leg and he tumbled to the ground. Hobi grabbed him, lifting him onto his back before motioning to one of his men. “Get Namjoon to a hospital. Fast. Then have someone bring me Jungkook”

“Yeah um, sir...Jungkook was stabbed earlier this morning. He’s at the mansion under medical care, but things aren’t looking great”

“Stabbed? By who?” Hobi’s heart skipped a beat as he heard Jin stifle a dark laugh. 

-

You woke up in a fit of coughs, jumping as you felt a cold hand stroke your back. You scrambled to your knees, a soft red silk robe lying loosely around your body. Goosebumps spread across your body due to the chill air of the small room.

“Are you okay?” You flinched at the sound, squinting your eyes in the faint light to make out Jin’s broad frame. “Here” He hands you a plastic water bottle. You desperately drink, drops trickling down your chin as you try to wash down your smoked out throat.

The second you’re done you throw the bottle at Jin with as much force as you can conjure, “You fucking liar. Why didn’t you throw the fight?” You backed away from him as far as you could. You looked around, unable to make out much except that the room was small, dark, and essentially empty aside form a few boxes lying around. You continued to cough lightly. “They would’ve killed me if Yoongi hadn’t saved me”

“He didn’t save you. Yoongi was the one who threatened me you dumb fuck” Jin scoffed, making no attempt to move towards you. “And I won because I was made aware of some...new information. I knew they wouldn’t actually kill you, okay. I told you I’d keep you safe and I did” 

“No.” You shook your head, “Yoongi...he’s not a part of this. He cares about me, and he’d never threaten me.”

Jin’s eyes widened, “Cares about you? He had someone at the hospital ready to blow your fucking brains out”

“That’s impossible. At the hospital was just me, Taehyung and Hobi”

“Okay yeah, Hobi...he’s definitely involved. He fucking shot me, look” Jin pulled up his shorts to show you a gushing wound, from which blood was pouring out. 

“Oh my God Jin, quick” You looked around frantically for some sort of cloth. Finding nothing you sighed, “Take off your shirt”

Jin shifted uncomfortably “Uh” You rolled your eyes, crawling over to him and tugging his muscle tee off of him yourself. His chest was supple with sweat, bruises lightly scattered over his skin.

“We gotta stop the bleeding. Who’s the dumb fuck now?” You snapped. He watched with interest as you wrapped his leg tightly, wincing in pain. “Hobi did this? No way. I mean...I believe you, but I’m just...”

Jin sighed in understanding, touching your arm affectionately “It’s okay. I get it. It’s a lot” You smiled at him gratefully. “I think Hobi was the one Yoongi had on standby to kill you at the hospital. They’re both working together” You finished tending to his wound before sliding up to sit next to him

“Yeah they literally work together. But I dunno...I’ve never seen Yoongi at Death Valley before” You crawled over to the boxes, hoping to find something to prop Jin’s leg up. Brushing the packed dust off of one before opening it, your eyes went wide “Holy shit” You looked down to find stacks and stacks of cash filling the box to the brim.“What the fuck” You mumbled, flipping through a wad.

“Y/n. I guess you might be blinded by love or whatever, but Yoongi is definitely a bad guy. He threatened me. He threatened you. AND. We’re literally locked up in his apartment” Does that mean this money is his? You knew music production paid well but...

“Ok.” You set the money back into the box before crawling back to sit by Jin. “Let’s assume for discussion’s sake that you’re right, and Yoongi is this big fucking Death Valley gang kingpin or whatever, which sounds like more bullshit as I even fucking say it out loud but...whatever, let’s assume you’re right” Jin nodded, “He threatened you because he needed Namjoon to win the fight. That doesn’t make sense because Taehyung was with me, and Taehyung works with Jimin” You reasoned. “Then...Hobi. Maybe Hobi is part of the Death Valley gang, and works with Yoongi. But honestly, I’ve seen the two of them at work and they aren’t that close. And also...if Hobi was the one who kidnapped Namjoon and I and beat him up. That doesn’t make sense because he shouldn’t want to hurt Namjoon”

Jin furrowed his brows, “No yeah, you’re right, that is all valid. Hobi did seem pretty worried about Namjoon.” You sighed in defeat. “I still think it could be Jungkook honestly. He technically has a ton of influence because he’s the one on the street, dealing the drugs. He drugged Namjoon, meaning that he was willing to turn on him.”

No. It’s not Jungkook. There is just no fucking way it’s Jungkook. You felt defensive, but you inhaled deeply, arguing wasn’t going to be helpful in your situation. “He could be playing both sides. And also simultaneously screwing both sides over to benefit” Jin continued. You clenched your fists.

“Okay enough. Let’s just...” You tilted your head back against the wall, “I’m exhausted.”

“Oh yeah I heard Jungkook got stabbed. Hobi seemed to be working with him too”

“I said enough” You snapped before his words registered, “W...wait. Jungkook was stabbed? Is he okay?” You felt like you swallowed a rock. Jin shrugged.

“One of the gang members told Hobi that he’s at his place getting medical care. So I assume he’s not dead or anything” You bit your now trembling lip. Jin noticed your unease.

“Hey. Maybe you should get some more rest Y/n. You’ve had a rough couple of days.” Jin gently slid his hand over yours, “You can lean on me if you want” You nodded slowly, letting your head snuggle into the crevice of his neck.

-

Jimin was surprised at himself. He glanced in the mirror, his body still looked weak but he was eager to return to work. No, not to work, but to see you. He had tried calling you ever since Taehyung had dropped him home. He knew the two of you had gone to the fight but hadn’t heard from you since. Taehyung told him that you had visited. That you even were sad that he was hurt, and he hated to admit it, but that fact alone had him grinning ear to ear. His stomach was full of butterflies. He had never felt this excited about anything in such a long time. He felt no desire to smoke, to drink to party, none of it. He didn’t even care that his single had broken a new Spotify record, it was all just noise. The only thing he wanted to do was see you. 

You could imagine his frustration then, when he walked into Yoongi’s office to find out that no one knew of your whereabouts. “What do you mean you don’t know?” He planted his hands on Yoongi’s desk angrily, Yoongi continuing to ignore his tantrum, “If she called in, she must have at least given a reason? Where the fuck is she?”

“Jimin. Even if she did, I wouldn’t fucking tell you. Stop harassing her, and for God’s sake, go home” He rolled his eyes. Hobi entered, eyes widening upon seeing Jimin.

“Oh wow. You healed fast” Jimin scoffed.

“Yeah, it’s called being rich. You should try it sometime” Hobi grabbed his shirt angirly, ready to punch his pretty boy face in. 

“Boys” Yoongi glared at them, “Jimin, just go home. There’s nothing for you to do anyways. Your album doesn’t come out for another 2 days.” Jimin shoved Hobi off of him, using all of his self-restraint his best not to kick the man in his balls. 

“Okay where’s Namjoon then? He would know where Y/n is, they’re like friends or something right?”

Hobi gulped, “Namjoon’s feeling a bit...under the weather” Jimin squinted at him suspiciously. Do these fuckers even know what Namjoon does in his free time? 

“He lost” Jimin concluded, biting back a smile as he turned to Hobi, “Namjoon lost didn’t he?” The look in his eyes gave him the answer he needed. “FUCK yeah baby. Papa is RICH” He did a smooth twirl, mimicking a moonwalk as he left the office. Hobi simply grinned. He won’t be smiling for long.

Jimin made his way back to his car, dialing up Taehyung. “Yoooo, where’s Y/n? Also why didn’t you tell me Joon lost? We gotta fucking celebrate man”

“Jimin”

“God I haven’t felt so happy in so long Tae. Like, shit is finally falling into place you know?”

“Jimin”

“I can probably find you a cute girl too, I’ve got these fucking girls at the office throwing themselves at me all the time. Or maybe Y/n would be down to share, obviously she’s mine first but I’d be down for a three--”

“JIMIN” Taehyung snapped aggressively. Jimin made a face, glancing at his phone in surprise before pressing it back to his ear, “We didn’t win shit. Someone out bet us. And Y/n is missing”

“Missing? The fuck you mean missing?”

“Okay apparently someone threatened Seokjin to throw the fight, but he didn’t”

“Good boy” Jimin mumbled.

“Jimin, they threatened Seokjin with Y/n’s life. She could be dead.”

Jimin’s mouth went dry, fists clenching so tight that blood began collecting under his nails, his phone almost combusting in his grasp. “Taehyung.” He whispered bitterly. “I’m heading to Jungkook’s. Meet me there ASAP. This shit ends now. This is war” Jimin rolled down his window and threw his phone as hard as he could, watching it shatter into pieces on the concrete road. He slammed a fist into the steering wheel, screaming out in frustration. “Y/n.” He sobbed, “Please be alive. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry”

-

You woke up to the sound of soft snores. Looking around, your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized your face was pressed up against Jin’s rock hard abs. He hand an arm lightly around your waist, holding you to him as you had been practically on top of him. You carefully rose, trying your best not to wake him up. You admired his sleeping figure briefly. He was cute, thick lips in a focused pout, lips parted slightly and drool trickled the ends of his mouth. 

You also couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his shorts. Probably just morning wood. Is it even morning? The lack of windows in the room had you confused as to what day, or time it was. How long had you been asleep? How long had you been locked up? Was anyone looking for you? It was unlikely.

Your mind wandered immediately to Jimin. You wondered if he was doing okay now. You wondered if he would think of you, if he would wonder where you were and look for you. But then again, it was also possible he knew exactly where you were and wanted you there. You no longer knew what to believe.

You subconsciously began to trace patterns on Jin’s chest, thinking about what all Yoongi had said to you. You had fucked him once, years ago, being so drunk that you thought it was Jimin. He had gotten a tattoo of your name. And then burned his own name into you. You reached your hand to the back of your neck to trace your fingers over the mark. It didn’t hurt anymore luckily, but you could now make out the letters. 

“Mmm morning” Jin rubbed his eyes, before sliding up the wall slightly. You quickly removed your palm from his chest, and he noticed with a smirk. “You feeling better?” You couldn’t help but notice how sexy his morning voice was. It was low and husky, and had your core tingling. 

“I guess so. I’m fucking hungry though” As if on cue, the door opened. You shielded your eyes at the aggressive display of light that outlined a dark silhouette. You could tell the person was wearing a suit, labeling him as Taehyung right away.

He knelt down tossing Jin what seemed to be a McDonald’s bag. “Breakfast” He said simply, his voice confirming your suspicions, “How are you?” He reached his hand to you. You hesitated, glancing at Jin who pursed his lips, an angry glint in his eyes. “Come on Y/n, I’m getting you out of here, let’s go” He waved his hand slightly to prompt you to take it.

“What about Jin?” Taehyung sighed, leaning forward to take your hand by force. 

“Jin will be fine. Let’s go Y/n” He pulled you up to your feet, taking a moment to tighten your robe before leading you out of the stuffy studio. You glanced back at Jin, who sat helplessly, unable to move. 

You looked around, your heart dropping as you realized that Jin was right. You were still in Yoongi’s apartment. Taehyung hugged you tightly. “Let’s go to your apartment and get you in some clothes okay?” He bent down to look at you, and you nodded. You noticed that he hand a gun in one hand as he took your hand with the other, leading you out of the apartment. Yoongi appeared to be gone, likely at work.

Taehyung somehow had keys to your apartment, but you were too excited to be in your own home to even question it. You ran inside, heading straight for your ravished bedroom. You dug out your favorite pair of jeans and hugged it to your body. “My clothes” You sighed in temporary happiness. Taehyung giggled, watching you jump into the garment, not bothering to wear anything under it. You were feeling oddly bold as you removed the robe before digging through to try to find a comfortable top.

“How about this?” You turned to see Taehyung holding up a leather corset top.  You rolled your eyes, hands folded over your exposed breasts. He tossed it to you, and you reached for it, realizing the trap as soon as the air hit your taught nipples. Taehyung grinned.

“Not a bad idea.” You winked at him, turning to your mirror to put the top on. You reached your arm back to zip it up, but Taehyung beat you to it. You watched him through the reflection as he zipped up your top, proceeding to rest his hands on your hips, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Hot” He chuckled, letting go of you, “Alright come on let’s g-oh--” You turned around and pushed your lips onto his. He tumbled back in surprise, catching you at your waist before the pair of you fell onto the pile of clothes on the floor.

You kissed him feverishly, sucking on his bottom lip before pushing your tongue into his mouth, which he accepted eagerly. The two of you wrestled for dominance, Taehyung breaking into fits of laughter as he pushed you onto your back only for you use every ounce of strength and momentum to return on top, pinning him down with your knees on his thighs. 

He scooped his hands around your ass, squeezing it lightly before lifting your body up so he could push you down again. You tussled around, kissing and grinding up against each other like kids before finally Taehyung grabbed your waist and lifting you into his lap “Fucking tease”

“Oh you love it” You taunted him. He slapped your ass hard, making you squeal. You let your tongue glide over to his ear, nibbling and tugging at it as Taehyung moaned unabashedly. His eyes switched from yours to your lips as he kneaded you ass, your body and his bobbing together in waves. You sucked on his neck causing him to curse out. 

Using his strength, he wrapped an arm around you and pushed you back, climbing up your body to grind his hardening cock against you. You wrapped your legs around him, meeting his lips again as you cupped his face.

You arched your back, wanting to feel more of him but he wanted to take things slow. You felt him smile against your lips, kissing them softly as he unzipped your top. “Why did we even bother getting you dressed?” He chuckled. He tossed it aside, moving his lips to your breast. He left rough kisses all the way down your body, before he unbuttoned your jeans, raising your hips to yank them off of you. 

He dove between your legs, but you tugged his hair to stop him. He blinked at you expectantly, looking almost puppy-like. “You know you don’t have to eat me out every time.”

“But I wanna” He pouted. 

“Well fuck okay, be my guest” He grinned, watching your reactions as he kissed the inside of your thighs. His familiar hot tongue jutted inside your folds, slurping up your slick arousal. He ruthlessly moved the tip of his tongue around to every crevice, making you twitch and squirm as he  licked at your nerves, sending you into a spiral of moans. You bucked your hips into his face, prompting him to keep going as you caressed his dark hair. 

“So good Taehyung. So fucking good baby” You cried out, tilting your head back. Taehyung licked his own lips, before climbing back up your body and removing his own trousers. It was interesting, being fucked by a guy in a suit when you had been dressed like a drunk college girl. But you definitely didn’t mind how hot he looked as his blazer tightened around his thick arms as he fondled your breasts. Especially not with that fine watch of his.

Yoongi. Your entire body went rigid, remembering the sensual night the two of you had shared that almost ended in you dying. Taehyung noticed the change in your demeanor, stopping quickly. “Baby? You good?”

You gulped, “Yeah. Yeah. Keep going” He looked at you with doubt, so you took matters into your own hands, reaching for his cock. You realized that you had never actually seen it, and you were so glad you could because he was beautiful. It was the prettiest cock you had ever seen, long and veiny, blushed and so eager. You wanted to pop it into your mouth and choke on it. Instead you guided it to your folds. Taehyung lips pressed against yours as he pushed in all the way, groaning at the way your dampness engulfed him so easily. 

“You’ve been having a lot of sex lately huh” He commented.

“Maybe, why?” He shrugged, as he thrusted into you, cock easily gliding in and out of your pussy.

“Just a guess” He pecked your cheek as he set his pace. You loved the way he fucked you, the sound of his thrusts and the way your wet pussy sloshed against him had you reeling for more. He was slow and sensual, rolling his hips up to hit you just where you needed. Heat coiled deep within you, and it was mere seconds before you came on him intensely.

“Oh fuck Taehyung, ohhhh fuck” You met his thrusts as a wave of bliss washed over you, “Just like that baby” Taehyung growled, pleased at the way you were unraveling for him.

“I missed you” He mumbled into your neck as he sped up, “I missed you so bad baby” He cupped your face tightly, hands moving up to clench your hair before he came.

Your body twitched as his cum spilled out of you. He rolled off of you with a deep sigh. The two of you exchanged a quick glance, realizing how silly you must look, on a pile of dirty clothes, now stained with sweat and cum and burst into laughter. Taehyung pulled you in for another kiss.

“I hate how they treat you Y/n” Taehyung confessed softly. “You deserve so much better. Yoongi. Jimin. Hobi. Jungkook. Namjoon. They don’t do it right. You know?”

You sigh. “Taehyung?”

“Yeah baby?”

“How the fuck do you know I’ve fucked all of them?”

-

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open. The golden light from his crystal chandelier shone down on him. He turned to see Namjoon lying next to him, covered in ice packs and bandages. “What the hell?” He looked around frantically. His medical staff was hard at work. “Did you lose the fight?” 

“Yeah I did” Namjoon croaked weakly. “Don’t remind me ugh, I fucking hate myself”

Jungkook shook his head in confusion, sitting up in shock. He looked down at his own state, a bloody bandage around his abs where he had been stabbed. The pain was numb, but his ego was far more damaged. “There’s no way you could have lost dude. I thought they were blackmailing Seokjin”

“Blackmailing him with what? We barely know the guy” Namjoon muttered. “Besides, isn’t he like a fucking cop or something?”

“There’s no fucking way he’s a cop. He knows way too much, and none of us have been arrested yet. Dude. Come on. The fights themselves are illegal and he’s in them”

“You have a point” Both Jungkook and Namjoon turned to see Jimin leaning in the doorway. The staff took the cue to leave, closing the grand double doors of Jungkook’s expansive bedroom behind them. 

“Alright bitches.” Jimin clapped his hands playfully, “Enough with the bullshit. Where’s Y/n? Tell me or I fucking am calling a war on you Death Valley rats,”

Namjoon tried to get up but Jungkook stopped him, “What do you mean where’s Y/n? We don’t fucking know?” 

Jimin laughed bitterly, “Are you shitting me? Tell me where she fucking is right now” He pulled out his revolver, aiming it at Namjoon, “Or fighter boy dies”

Jungkook gulped, looking from Namjoon to Jimin. Namjoon was shocked, fists clenched and expression confused. 

“Okay okay fine.” Jungkook sighed deeply, “I’ll tell you where she is. But you’re not gonna like it”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: ok i know i said there’d be a jin scene but, i need to build his character more so, next part i promise. smut pairs will be up on the mlist. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! who stabbed kook? what is taehyung’s deal? i love hearing your theoriesssss and getting your asks ;) see you next week & thx for reading my loves~

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie​ @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies​ @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel

[katsukikitten]

WARNING 18+ BIRB NOT BIRB SMUT! Band AU, harem collab. In which reader meets her favorite faceless singer. Little over 3k

Sweat trickles down your spine as your favorite song is blasted from the large speakers. Fog from the stage lingers just above your head as you feel as if you were in a dream. The setting is surreal especially since you actually managed to WIN those rare radio tickets to see a band in concert. And not just any band, your favorite fucking bad.  

TOKYO MOB

The band consisted of four people, Bakugou Katsuki, the drummer who was angrier than any person you'd ever seen wearing nothing but skinny black jeans and a perpetual frown. Jiro, so cool and sleek in anything she wore as she tore up her guitar as side vocals. Then there was Denki, funny, cute even, on the bass with his electric blonde hair and killer smile. Lastly there was "Dark Shadow", the lead vocalist. 

No one knew his real name or what he looked like, he chose to wear a headpiece in the shape of a raven or crow. You loved him, even without knowing his face. 

He was so fit, strong arms and deadly abs that could be seen from beneath his cut off band tee crop top, much like you were wearing now. His voice was soothing as a bird's song, whether he was screaming or singing. The sound so uniquely beautiful it brought tears to your eyes the first time you heard it. And standing here with nothing but a small barricade and stage separating the two of you was a dream made in heaven. 

He sings your favorite song, looking out into the crowd, body drenched in sweat from the high energy show as he jumps to the beat. He pauses to hit a long note and while the guitar riffs he looks into the VIP section. You swear you feel as if he is looking dead at you. The next few lyrics are packed full with emotion as he gets onto his knee, one hand holding the microphone while the other gently floats towards outstretched hands. 

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

But it's yours that his fingers brush, intertwining his fingers with yours as tears prick your eyes. 

"Mine. Forever miiinee~" 

The world stops, his silky voice smoothing over your skin before it erupts in goose flesh, he holds on to your hand as he sings the chorus again. The screaming people around you fade away as you hear nothing but his sultry voice. 

As if he were serenading you in the kitchen of your home. 

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

"Mine. Forever miiinee~"

He squeezes your hand as he finishes the note, releasing your hand slowly before starting to stand. The music begins to fade as he huffs, trying to catch his breath before looking over the band. He sees that ever might need just a second more to take in some water so he brings the mic close to his face as he shouts. 

"Are we having a good time tonight?!" 

The crowd erupts into a scream, so loud you can barely hear the one tearing up your throat. 

"I can't fucking hear you, extras!" Bakugou shouts into his own mic. The sold out stadium shakes rivaling the bass of the sound system as they all play off random notes and beats. When the deafening roar becomes a hushed, dull roar Bakugou sets the beat, Jiro and Denki join in as their most popular song begins to bump through the speakers. The song sets a heavy, hype beat that can get anyone to bang their head to. You start along with them, booze lighting up your system and causing you to ignore the charged air around you  

Some of the bystanders, some of the women especially were jealous of the fact that you were holding hands with none other than the DARK SHADOW. 

"Stupid bitch." They murmur amongst themselves, "Let's really fuck her up." 

One says before shoving her unsuspecting and overly excitable boyfriend into another guy while shouting. 

"MOSH PIT!" The crowd follows suit, putting you in the thick of it. Normally you could handle a little mosh, staying on the fringes to avoid too much damage but being in the center was beginning to spell trouble. The world spun as body after body began to slam into you, turning you this way and that before someone begins to take advantage of the situation. A sleazy guy you had hoped to avoid "falls" into you, rough palms grabbing a handful of your ass, beneath your skirt. A yelp lost to the crowd leaves your lips, tears burning in your eyes as this man set out to ruin what was possibly the highlight of your life. 

He was going to ruin it with his disgusting cigarette breath, lips sloppily kissing at your throat as he moved the two of you closer to the barricade. His fingers dig into your ass, spreading your cheeks as he shouts into your ear. 

"These fishnets for me slut?" He slurs, chuckling as he presses your back into the cool biting metal, "Love the crop top baby, do you got a bra on underneath?" 

A sob threatens to rack through your body as your elated high quickly turns into stomach churning nausea. Desperately you look up to the stage, anything to distract you from the fingers that try to venture between your thighs, while the other rips at your favorite top.

Tokoyami jumps, stopping to adjust his feet for steady ground to do the screaming part of the song, he glances down into the crowd, silently looking for you. The woman who made his heart flutter for the first time in years and when he sees your face tilted up towards him with fear and pain twisting your features he loses his cool. 

"Fucking stop!" He shouts, the lyrics gone for now as the music abruptly stops, the man holding you startles as the light follows Dark Shadow's accusing finger. He is illuminated by the stage light as bystanders rip him from you, he punches one guy and makes a run for it. 

 "Aye yo security. Get this asshole!" Dark Shadow shouts, leaning down for your now outstretched arms. Pulling you on stage with ease as his fingers flutter over your shoulders and sides for injuries.

"You okay my sparrow?" He coos softly and you nod, and he guides you towards the back of the stage, leaving the two front members to appease the excited crowd. He presses a cold water bottle to your hand before pulling up a chair a few feet from the drum kit. 

"Stay by Bakugou okay? He'll take care of you." He wipes some sweat from your face before squeezing the nape of your neck. Bakugou glares your way with mixed emotions before doing his show starting beat to get the crowd jumping. 

"Anyone else wanna act like a fucking douche?" Denki asks, walking up and down the front of the stage waiting for Tokoyami to return to the forefront. 

"NOOOOO!" The crowd shouts, Denki offers a cheeky smile before adding. 

"That's my good fans!" He blows a kiss to the crowd and the screams fly up an octave. 

"Alright let's start this shit from the top!" Jiro shouts, letting out some hypnotic notes before looking towards Tokoyami. 

"Actually, let's give them a sample of the new album. Let's give them a tease. Do you wanna be teased?" He asks the crowd aiming the mic towards them as if he needed to. 

"SHOW US! TEASE US!" The crowd chants before Tokoyami looks towards his band members. 

"I dunno do they deserve it?" Bakugou prodes and the audience lets out a dejected whine. 

"Promise to behave?" Jiro teases and the crowd collectively screams out desperately "YES!"

"Well keep your hands to yourself and listen up cause you're only gonna hear it this once til it drops!" Tokoyami shouts before Jiro starts playing that hypnotic sound, shortly after Denki joins in. Bakugou twisting his drumstick as he waits for his cue impatiently. Dark Shadow takes in a deep breath before singing the haunting first lines of their new song. 

"What do you do, when it's stalking after yoouuu? What do you say when it's just a breath awaaay~? Coming closer and you can't seem to get awaaaaay?" 

"Always watching, always loooomming-" 

Bakugou slams his sticks down hard onto the kit, foot tapping the bass drum at an alarming speed as everything seems to be hitting a climax. 

"WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN ITS COMING FROM INSIDE OF YOU? WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN IT SHARES YOUR NAAAAME? 

WHEN YOU CAN'T HIDE THE DEMON THAT'S LURKING INSIDE!" 

The last line he screams and the crowd is overcome with emotion. The height of the music and the new song that the band pours their hearts into, sends the crowd into a frenzy. Sweat dripping from everyone as their black shirts dampen around their collars. 

The song the crowd wanted to last forever comes to an end and you find yourself standing to scream, tears in your eyes.

"That was amazing!" Curling your fingers into a fist, Dark Shadow turns back to see you, out of the millions of people there tonight, in that moment he could only hear you.  

"Well I think we gave them a good show huh?" Denki asks into the mic, Bakugou drums a heavy beat as he shouts. 

"FUCK YEA WE DID!" 

"HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!!" The band members shout in unison before waving and slowly backing off stage. Tokoyami rushes towards you, hand slipping around your natural waist as he guides you into the darkened stage towards his dressing room. Your heart is racing in your ears as the silence becomes deafening. Being this close to Dark Shadow you couldn't help but notice the little cushion that keeps his helmet from damaging his throat and the intoxicating smell that rolls off of him like a cool breeze. He smells like cedar and pine at twilight while the wind brings with it the threat of snow. 

You shiver despite the warmth of his touch. Swallowing the lump in your throat you force your tongue to cooperate as he steps in front of his door politely opening it for you. His small silver chains clink from the motion.

"You must be tired, are you sure you want...company?" If you could see his face you imagined he'd be smiling. Pressing his hand at the small of your back to urge you inside. 

"I'm sure." He walks in, waiting for you to follow before he slumps onto a worn leather arm chair. Your platform converse move on their own as you cross the threshold of the room, closing the door behind you. 

"Lock it, would you sparrow?" All you can do is nod as you turn the lock until you hear a soft click. He gestures for you to sit on the couch beside him before his broad hands go towards his helmet. 

The blood rushes from your face as a moment of honor and horror wage war in your gut, pulling your heart down towards your feet. 

"Wait!" You shout, startling both of you and you feel heat rise into your cheeks and throat, "I don't want you to feel obligated to take it off. We can just...talk." 

Nervously you fidget with the hem of your skirt, thinking he was going to kick you out for being so lame. 

Boring. 

He stands and you flinch before he sits beside you on the love seat. If you could see his eyes you wondered if they were sparkling. His winter woods smell tickles your nose and you smile. 

"I'd love to just talk. But first." He must notice your ripped shirt as he stands again. Rummaging through his suitcase to find the first edition band tee ever made for TOKYO MOB.

"I couldn't!" You half shout and then squeak, "I shouldn't" 

"I insist." He says softly placing it on your lap before giving you his toned back. The cropped tee he wears shows off the dimples in his lower back that has you thinking of what it would look like while those hips piston into you. Quickly you toss your ripped shirt aside and slip his over your head, relishing the present smell, heart stirring.

"It's safe." You say softly and he turns around taking the seat beside you again. 

After a small awkward silence the two of you begin to talk, the conversation coming easy as you gushed over his voice and where you went to college when he asked. Him wanting to know more about your life and the night ended up being about you instead of him for once and it was nice. 

Nice to not have someone prying or clawing at his neck to find out just who he was and what he looked like, suddenly heat rushes to his pants. His hand comes to rest on your knee just below the hem of your skirt, ringed fingers sliding beneath the black fabric. You swallow, looking into the face of the bird mask and softly speak. 

"How- how would we kiss?" It feels stupid, embarrassing that you would even think that. He kills the light by the love seat flooding the room in total darkness before he takes off his helmet with a clatter. 

"Like this." His lips are by your ear now sending ecstacy through your body in the form of a spine tingling shudder. He kisses at your lobe working his way down your throat and then up to your jaw, avoiding your lips as he tastes every inch of you he can. His damp hair tickles your nose as he moves you to him, hovering over you as he kisses the plane of your stomach beneath his lifted shirt. 

"You look damn good in my shirt baby." He trails his tongue up your sternum causing you to moan, he smirks against the bone before sucking at the supple skin of your breast. Choosing them for his canvas to paint in blacks and blues that you would soon come to wish would last a life time. His free hand twists your nipple, pulling it as he scrapes his teeth against your other. Tongue flicking against the sensitive nub another moan escapes your lips as he plays with you for what feels like hours. He doesn't even go to touch your aching cunt until you're covered in a sheen of sweat. Begging for his hands to move lower as your vision spots in the dark from his sensual touch alone. Your own hands explore up his defined abs and torso occasionally catching the cool metal of his chains, this time you decide to pull him into a kiss. Your lips touching his for the first time all night and you feel like a live wire. Hungrily and aggressively trying to devour him as you feel music dancing through your blood, humming in your bones, he groans amplifying the feeling as his clothed hard on presses into your core. His tongue swipes over yours and the thought of not even knowing what he looks like arches your back into his touch. 

Finally he flips your skirt up, his fingers venturing between your thighs and when he finds no fabric and the satisfying sound of your slick he bucks his hips, biting at your breasts. 

"So wet sparrow…." His voice is soft breath and a little desperate causing your cunt to clench. He circles your clit until you're crying, his fingers occasionally checking for a stream of tears. When he feels the droplets on your face he chuckles shoving his fingers knuckle deep going agonizingly slow until you're fluttering around his thick curled digits. You cum hard and he whispers praises in your ear, several times as your body shakes and you think you won't be able to make it through the night. 

"Ready for my cock babe?" He asks gently swiping his thumb over your swollen and heavily abused clit. You perk right up, ready for the finale silently thanking the gods for a band members stamina. You notice him shaking as he leans down for a kiss, his stomach sweaty and sticking to yours. You fist his hair, pulling him back just a bit. 

"You'll be okay?" You can just make out the gleam of his teeth from his smirk before his voice comes out as pure sinful husk. 

"The question is, will you sweet sparrow?" 

Too stunned to answer he swallows your silence with a kiss before he sheaths himself inside you. Relishing the moan in his mouth and the fluttering of your velvet walls as they adjust to him. You were so wet, so ready for him as he slowly rocked his hips. Your half wish from earlier coming true as your hands fly to the dimples of his lower back, trying to urge him to quicken his pace but he keeps it languid, deadly. Each stroke hitting with purpose. The head of his cock hitting that cushy spot as his pelvis snapped against your clit. The sensation sends you into a never ending moan. Each gasp his stage name as he marks you as his, nails raking down your arms as he praises. 

"Such a nice pussy you have. Taking me so fucking well." He lingers by your ear, his tone the opposite of his lustful words. Your own nails claw down his back in viscous lines as he keeps you on the edge. The coil, steady and tight as you feel the pressure in your stomach growing. He can feel how tightly you're squeezing him and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He press his fingers into your stomach as his thumb swipes over your clit, his hips snapping faster and faster as he waits for what he hopes is coming. The pressure becomes too much he overstimulates your body, shaking as you cry out. 

"I can't, I can't…" 

"You can, just for me. Don't be shy, cum for me baby." His deep voice sends a chill through your body, you go rigid, quiet before your body jerks and releases a clear liquid onto his pelvis and cock. Shaking as he fucks your through it before his voice comes out strained as you milk him. 

"Imma cum baby, where do you want it?" 

"In me, I promise I have an IUD just fucking cum Dark Shadow!" You gasp and he obeys, adding to your pleasant after shocks, filling you to the brim with his hot seed with a husky grunt. He collapses onto you fixing your shirt before he gently withdraws, keeping his face to your chest as your fingers find his hair. You try not to let your thoughts wander and as if he could read your mind. 

"I promise you, you're the only one who's made me do that." He kisses your throat gently before his hand searches for your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours before he hums. Slowly singing you to sleep. You welcome the feeling as exhaustion blankets you in darkness.

"Uh miss." The voice comes as a shock as a large man tries to wake you from a distance. You startle, grabbing at blankets to cover yourself although you're fully clothed.  

"Hate to wake you miss but we're locking up. The venue is closed and the band is…" Although he looks a brute he clearly has some sort of heart. Unable to say what you know.  

"Gone." Tears burn your eyes as you think of how stupid you were. To ever think you were special enough to be anything more than a groupie. A note sits on the bedside table. 

"Should we cross paths again, Sparrow. I'll make you forever mine" 

The note blurs as you recognize the lyrics to the song. You look down at his band tee and wonder if your favorite song was more of a gimmick to pick up fans than some fated promise. 

And so life moves on.

You can only tell that time has passed from the fading color of your bruises. Slowly they melt from a cold bluish black into cool greens and warm dotted yellows. You sigh, looking in the mirror before you head towards your room for clothes.  Finally mustering up the courage to wear that stupid band tee he gave you again. It still smells faintly of him, of the winter woods suspended in forever twilight. Of musk from your sweat and his. You fight back the tears as you remind yourself you just put on mascara, finally choosing to participate in a social life after having your heart broken for being a fool. You decided to get ready sooner rather than later, otherwise you would have backed out from the plans and mopped around the house. You figured some coffee would help kill the time as you lace up your converse thinking of your favorite shop. You head out and walk leisurely to the cafe off the beaten path of downtown.  The street is full but not overly so as people browse the shopping district of the huge city you call home. Everyone fades into the background until your eye catches against a handsome man, dressed in tastefully torn black jeans, and an onyx turtleneck. You would be concerned for his attire in this weather if he wasn't so damn handsome. You must catch his eye as well as his face instantly lights up when he makes eye contact. He beats you to the cafe door, holding it open for you with ringed fingers like a gentleman waiting for you to enter. The gesture feels familiar causing your heart to squeeze in your chest, feeling trapped beneath your too small rib cage. As you walk past him you think you smell something familiar. 

Like cedar and pine, dancing on a snowy wind as the sun sets the world on fire. 

Your world on fire as you grip at the front of Dark Shadow's shirt trying not to cry. You just wanted your fucking macchiato and to move on with your life. You had lived every fan's dream of sleeping with your favorite band member. Tasting Dark Shadow's blackberry mouth. Shouldn't that be enough? 

Your aching heart said otherwise. 

Suddenly warmth is behind you, radiating off of a thick body as the handsome man bends over to put his profile to your ear. Goose flesh prickles your skin in late August as he says with a voice that drapes you in sinful black silk.

"You look damn good in my shirt, sparrow." 

[forthehpfanboys]

Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

-

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame. 

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead. 

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit. 

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling. 

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours. 

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily. 

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead. 

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny. 

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but  he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry. 

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.” 

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers. 

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him. 

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give  George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back. 

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

[beth-yeet365]

“We’re not finished” - bws

Pairing: Bradley Simpson x reader

Summary: you’re Tristan’s cousin and you’re as close as brother and sister. When he says that he has an extra room in his flat that he shares with his bandmate, Brad, you decide to move in... What’s the worst that could happen?

Word count: 2.1k+ 

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, Brad being forward which ight cause ome awkward situations, like one or two curse words and mention of boner ;)

Disclaimer: I don’t know if any of this is true either way it’s an imagine so don’t expect anything that’s super true... also you play drums like Tris but that is because that’s the only instrument I can play lmao and you’re 2 years younger than Tris so that makes you 3 three years younger than Brad

It all started with a facetime call with your favourite and only cousin, the one and only Tristan Evans. 

You’re moving into his flat that he also shares with his bandmate Brad. They had extra room and you have been complaining about how expensive rent is in London to live on your own and you don’t want a creepy roommate so Tris saved your ass and offered the room.

Moving in wasn’t as hard is you’d expected. Mostly because you had the other vamps helping you carry stuff to the flat. 

You of course carried some of your stuff up but not being the strongest person in the world made it pretty difficult.

You especially needed help with carrying your electric drum kit cause that shit’s heavy.

“Right, Y/N, I think you’re pretty settled in.“ Tristan said, carrying the last box into your new room. 

“Yeah, but I still need a bed to sleep in.“ You said.

“You can sleep on the sofa tonight and we’ll go to IKEA tomorrow.”

“Yeah from what we’ve witnessed from the times you’ve visited us on tour you can sleep pretty much anywhere,“ Connor started. “And definitely not as tall as Tris so you’ll fit anywhere.“ He then added, laughing as the other boys laughed at his comment.

“Ha ha, go on mock my height when you don’t have an awful lot yourself.“ You fired back, patting his shoulder. 

“She’s got you there, Con.“ Brad said to him chuckling to himself.

“Oh, you can’t talk either, Bradley.“ you told him.

“You wound me, darling.“ He acted offended and put his hand over his chest in mock hurt. 

“Hey! Don’t be flirtin’ with my baby cousin!“ Tris exclaimed jokingly.

We all laughed and decided to drink some well deserved beers after carrying all the boxes up. 

Soon enough James and Connor left to go home to their own places.

You started to unpack the boxes with your clothes and putting the closet and dresser that were already in the room. 

While unpacking your clothes you came across a small cardboard box you keep all your printed out pictures of you visiting the boys while they were on tour. You were like a sister to all of them. 

You took the pictures out of the box and looked at all of them while sat on the ground. They were all a mixture of selfies with all the boys, pictures of the places you’ve been and pictures have taken of you playing drums. All of the good memories. 

You smiled at all of them and moved to collect them and put them back in the box when a voice spoke. 

“You always look so concentrate and content.“

You looked up to see Brad leaning on the doorframe of your room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

He looked good. He always does though. 

To be honest, you’ve had a huge crush on him ever since you stepped onto the tour bus when you were 19 and he was 22. 

“Sorry, what?“ You asked in confusion. 

“When you play drums you just look concentrated but also content and happy.“ He said while pointing to the pictures of you playing, then moving to sit across from you on the floor. 

“Well playing drums is such a reliever, you know? It’s just you and the sound of the drums.“ You explained to him. 

“Yeah I get that.“ He said nodding. “It’s the same when I start singing or start playing guitar or piano.“

“It’s one of the reasons why I brought the drum kit with me just in case I get tired of you two.“ You said with a joking smile.

“Very funny, Y/N,“ He said. “Well I’m happy you brought it.“

“Why?“ You asked the curly haired boy in front of you, while you absentmindedly sifted through the pictures. 

“Because it’s hot.”

You snapped your head up to find his brown orbs staring right back into yours. 

You could feel the blood rushing to your face. 

Clearing your throat just to do anything to relive the now awkward tension in the room. 

“Where’s Tris?“ You diverted the conversation from the awkward situation from before. 

“He popped over to the shop to get something I didn’t quite catch.“ He answered and moved to stand up. 

“Oh.“ Was the only thing you could say, mentally hitting yourself. 

he was now standing up, looking down at you and offered a hand to help you stand up from the ground. You gladly took it and he practically heaves up. 

“Y/N-“

“I’m back!“ Tristan hollers from the entrance of the flat. “Where are you guys?“

“Coming!“ You shout back at him.

Dammit, Tris.

Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t as comfortable as you’d hoped. 

It was weird not being able to move freely because of the backrest on it but at least you had Jesse to cuddle you while you were on your phone. 

Jesse is Brad’s golden retriever and a national treasure to be preserved. 

She proved to be very cuddly at 1 a.m. 

You then noticed you were thirsty so you decided to get up and make some tea in the hopes that would make you sleepy enough for you to sleep after. 

You never noticed how noisy turning on a kettle was until you had to turn it on in the middle of the night where everything seems noisier. 

When the kettle boiled you found a random mug and some classic English breakfast tea in one of the cabinets. 

“You awake, too?“ A voice startled you. 

You jump in fright and turn around only to find Tris. 

“Jeez, could’ve announced your presence without scaring me.“ You tell him, putting the tea bag into your cuppa. “But yeah I’m awake how else would I be making tea?”

“Don’t get smart on me,“ he playfully scolds you. “Why you awake, though?“

“Simply couldn’t sleep.“ 

“Sucks, but now you have me to keep you up as well.“ He smiles at you and walks to the kettle making himself a cuppa. 

“Oh gee, am I supposed to be happy?“ You ask him making him roll his eyes at your questions. 

You both moved to the sofa and sat down to talk.

Late night talks with Tris were always the best especially since you were so close and therefore could talk about everything from playing drums and nerdeing about that to mental health. 

“Okay, Y/N, I have a question for you.“ He tells you making you furrow your eyebrows. He doesn’t really announce that he has a question unless it’s something or serious.

“Shoot.“

“Do you like Brad?“

Now that was a question you didn’t expect. Like never.

It caught you off guard, making it difficult for you to answer his question.

“What would you say if I told you I did?“ You ask him back.

“I would tell you to fess up ‘cause you both like each other.“ He responded.

“Is it really that noticeable that I like him?“ Your eyes widened with your ask.

“Umm, if it wasn’t you guys’ obvious flirtin’ it would be you completely snappin’ out of it and getting distracted when he walks into the room.” He explains making you put your head in your. 

“Oh my God does he know?“ Your question comes out muffled because of your hands. You also avoided his amused gaze in embarrassment. 

“No no, he’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.” He informs you, making you relax. You also decided to ignore Tris’ confirmation of Brad’s mutual feelings for you. 

“I’ll tell you what,“ Tris starts again. “James, Con and I all agree you’re good for each other but I’ll go back to bed so you can sleep ‘cause you look like you’re tired now,“ he continues and moves to collect your mugs. “and say goodnight to you.“ he finishes when he put the mugs in the dishwasher.

“Goodnight, sleep well Tris.“ You tell him and he kisses your cheek.

“Sleep well, Y/N, we’ll try to keep it down when we wake up later on.“ He tells you and he proceeds towards the hallway

“Thanks.“

You lay down on the sofa again with Jesse coming to lay at your feet and you were out like a light.

You were aching.

You had been assembling a bed, a desk and a chair from IKEA with Tris, Brad, Con and James since you came home.

IKEA manuals were gonna be the death of you.

Tris, Con and James had gone out to the shop to get some champagne to celebrate you officially moving in since you also got your own copy of the key to the flat from the landlord.

Brad had stayed behind mumbling out some excuse for not going. 

You?

You had stayed behind because you still had to move things into your room and make your bed and all that fun stuff. 

“Need help?“ Brad’s voice interrupted your movements in making your bed.

“Um, not right now but thanks.“ You answered politely.

You felt awkward as you remembered what Tris had told you during the night. Even though you had ignored them you still acknowledged them.

He’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.

You finished making your bed with Brad’s burning gaze on you.

A phone pinged and both of you reached to check your phones.

“Tris says that they’re gonna be late ‘cause traffic’s bad.“ Bard said.

You could only nod in acknowledgment as you read the same text but on your own phone.

“Well what do you wanna do?“ He asked, desperately trying to break the awkward tension.

“I’m quite tired, actually,“ you confessed. “Assembling really drains the energy outta ya, ya know?“

“Yeah yeah, I get that.“ He answered and looked around your room. “Should we see if we made the bed as good as the one in the shop?“ He suggested.

“Smooth, Bradley,“ you laughed out. “But yeah, let*s.“

You both jumped onto the bed. 

“This is almost better than the one in the shop.“ He says, wiggling around.

“Yeah it is.“ You hold your hand up for a high five which he high fives and let’s his hand stay there, moving to thread your fingers.

You smiled at his actions and reciprocated. 

He released his hand and moved it to your face to brush some hair out of your face, making your face heat up.

You decided to make a bold move and move your face just mere centimeters away from his face.

You were both breathing hard in anticipation, trying to figure out who would kiss who first. 

Fuck it, you thought and kissed him.

He immediately caught on and moved on top of you, his arms caging your head.

It felt amazing.

Lips moving together, teeth clashing, tongues exploring your mouths.

You threaded your hands in his hair and tugged at it eliciting a moan out of him.

On of his hands started moving from its position at your head down to your waist making you giggle cause you were ticklish. 

He moved away from your face agonizingly slow.

“That was-“ he started saying but looked at loss for words. “Wow, just wow.“

“Yeah,“ you agreed. 

You couldn’t think straight as his now swollen lips moved down to kiss your jaw and neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He would suck, then lick your skin to soothe it.

To say the boy was talented was an understatement.

You could feel him smile against the skin on your collarbone when he found that spot that would’ve made you fall if you were standing up.

“We’re home again!“ Tris’ holler interrupted your little session, making Brad groan and fall on top of you. 

“We brought the champagne!“ James then hollers.

You both moved away from each other and sat up.

“Coming!“ Brad yells back at them which you were grateful for because you didn’t trust you own voice.

“You go ahead,“ Brad tells you. “I have to just sort something out.“ 

You snicker at him.

“We’re not finished,“ you tell him before walking out the door, smiling like an idiot ‘cause you couldn’t contain your happiness and the feeling of bliss.

One thing you forgot before greeting them was checking yourself in a mirror before greeting the guys.

“Hey guys!“ You greet.

“Uh, hey Y/N,“ James greets you back, holding back a chuckle.

Connor turned away to try and calm his laughter.

“Brad! Why does Y/N have hickeys down her neck!?“ Tris shouts while walking to your bedroom.

The smile fell off your face as James and Con couldn’t contain their laughter anymore.

Oh shit.

[vetrubius]

ANONYMOUS AFFECTION

CHAPTER 1: ACKNOWLEDGING EXISTENCE/

W.C:1,624

Summary: Y/N L/N is a 24 year old bartender who owns a small bar. The usual life of hers is about to change after meeting the Hero Associations Chairman, Izuku Midoriya. She’s in charge of the afterparty of the Sports Festival for the Hero Association. Watch her as she falls in love gracefully with one of the strongest hero.

Warnings: Aged up characters, SMUT, Alcohol, Cigarette, Hook ups, Slight Name-Calling, Nudity :)))

The bar at the corner of the road had a warm aura in it. Any new comer would be welcomed at the sight of young adults lost in a mist of dense smoke, and liquor. The laughter resonating through the small bar established the happening atmosphere in the space. The humongous bar on the left did the space justice. The glowing bottles of alcohol with yellow encompassing it was a view worth dying for. The row of bottles stacked up from top to the bottom shelf was balancing the small live stage on the opposite side of the wall. The large floral stained window did justice to the space. The chairs and table in the middle were filled with people as the live performance was ongoing. The warm light flooding the room and the task light above the live stage ensured that the attention would remain to the girl singing on the stage.

You watch Jirou sing on the stage with her purple satin dress whose thin straps held up the dress and the fabric draping along her curves, highlighting them beautifully and enlarging every detail possible. On the stage with her was Mina, gracing the wooden floor with a green satin cage bralette and black latex which complemented her skin tone. Her sex appeal bursting through the whole space, kept the audience thoroughly involved with her. Behind the two ladies were Kirishima and Denki on the guitar and the drums. Kirishima adorning the little bow tie he’d tied over his white shirt and his low rise ripped jeans which lowkey showed his V through his shirt (not that he minded the way the college girls threw themselves at him). As Kirishima played his guitar, your gaze was fixed on the yellow haired friend with a black highlight who was playing his drums. 

You and Denki had been friends for a while which had led to the build up of sensual energy between the two of you. There had been nights where your head was settled between his crotch, engulfing his manhood in your mouth as sweet moans escaped his mouths. His hands leaving marks on your ass and whimpers leaving your mouth and him filling you up to the point you couldn’t even talk or walk properly. Tonight might be another such night where you’d be under him with a guarantee of sore legs the next day.

“Hey Y/N,” your eyes darted towards the voice “Looking pretty in the trousers and shirt. Going for a gender neutral look?” Tenya said as he made himself comfortable on the bar chair.

“Yeah, trying that but clearly isn’t working on the person I want.” You said a smile creeping up your cheeks. 

Tenya and you had been college best friends and the pact of not dating each other had already been made. The beauty of you two was the fact that both of you upheld it. You’d never thought about Tenya that way and he didn’t too. 

“A shot of bourbon, please” he said as he shuffled in his seat to remove his wallet. 

“Ah, don’t worry about it, the first one is on the house.” You said, sliding the shot glass towards him which he downed in almost an instant. 

“Tough day at work, huh?” You asked, resting your chin between the palms of your hands as your elbows rested on the black granite table. 

“Yeah, too many bad guys out there you know,” he said, signalling for another one “Keep the bar and yourself safe, Y/N.” 

Your eyes returned back to the yellow-head on the stage. “So, Denki huh?” Tenya said while taking the second drink.

 “Yeah, he’s a good plaything.” you said smiling at Kaminari from behind the bar.

“Don’t get emotionally involved with him. He’s a great guy. But not someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with” he said while keeping the shot glass down. 

“I don’t plan to. But I do plan to keep him on the toes until you get your official hero licenses. It’ll be a good motivation for him.” you said, looking back at Iida and grinning. 

“The typical Y/N card. Always baiting other people to do their best using her body.” he said looking at the table and smiling. 

You looked around the bar. The college kids sitting in front of you. Some were pursuing their education but most of them had to appear for their heroes licenses exam in six months. You too had dreams of becoming a hero when you were a kid. Until you realised your quirk was useless. The one idea of developing an amazing quirk that you desperately wanted was snatched away from you. The terror in your eyes when the doctor said to your guardians “Her quirk is being immune to alcohol poisoning” It felt like the world had collapsed. What could a 6 year old like you do with a quirk like that? The children in your school kept name-calling you. Drunk hag, alcohol creep were some of the many. You were so used to it. 

Now that you were 24 and owned a bar, it’s not like your life had any spice to it. Just one night stands, your everyday customers and your best friend. Of course that didn’t mean you didn’t have ambitions. You did want a family and to be reciting your vows in front of the stained glass window. But you weren’t sure if you were available emotionally for anyone yet. Also, the acceptability of your quirk in the other households was not something you anticipated. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Tenya’s voice “Are you facing any problems in the bar?” he asked after downing his third drink. 

“Yeah, the liquor prices are becoming slightly expensive, the electricity units are skyrocketing and I need more furniture,” you sighed. “I want more customers but where will I accommodate them?” your eyes returning to the stage but this time at Jirou. 

“Actually our firm was planning a after UA festival afterparty, only for adults.” he said tapping his fingers on the cold platform. “Could we use your bar? There won’t be a lot of people. Only official members and the boss. Do you think you could handle that?” he glanced towards you. 

A party? You pause to think a little. 

Your brainstorming lasted roughly about 45 seconds. 

“Yes, but I’ll need advance payment.” you say, looking at Tenya with fire in your eyes. 

“I’ll ask for permission from my higher ups and let you know.” he said, picking up his bag “Meanwhile, you deal with him.” he said, tilting his head behind you.

You flip to be face in face with Denki. 

“Hey sexy, ready to go?”

The door unlocked only for Denki to push you against the wall with his lips attacking yours. With one hand he grabbed your face while the other worked on locking the door. 

“Aren’t we feisty today” you said as he made his way on your neck, as you tried to unbutton him with one hand and the other grabbing his hair. Denki was quick to pick you up in bridal style and make his way to the dining table. Before he kept you down, he unbuckled your trousers, removed and dropped them on the side. 

Placing you softly on the table without breaking the kiss, he starts to slowly drag his fingers along the slit on your wet panties. “Oh Kaminari~” your back arching and your hands on his back, scratching every edge you can get. 

Denki enjoying every little bit your body reacts. The small whimpers, the bite on his shoulder blades, most of all the way your mouth steams on his. It makes him almost lose whatever little composure he has out of the window. 

“Ah gorgeous.” he said while breaking the kiss and taking a step back to admiring your body. 

The little protective crystal dangling on your boobs. The black bralette, the white shirt covering your arms and your sides and your panties soaking wet for him. You looked sinful

“Beg.”

“Can you please eat me?” you ask, grabbing your one boob in your hand and the other one in your mouth. 

“Try harder.” 

“Sir, could you please eat me out?” you say between the moans, with one hand circling your clit, the other hand on your boob.

He picks you up again and takes you to the bedroom and dumps your body on the mattress. 

“Come sit here, I wanna try something.” he said, clambering behind you. You don’t waste time trying to fit the pocket of his arms. 

The second you make your way, his lips made his way on your ears as the walls witnessed your undoing. 

With one hand, he played with your tits a little more and the other made his way inside your panties. This unholy sensation made your soul leave your body. His thumb rubbing your clit and his index and middle in your pussy. The squelches and your moans were absorbed by the walls. He knew you were at your limit. 

Kaminari stopped abruptly, breaking a protest whine from you. “More, please” You said through your broken voice. 

Meanwhile in Hero Association:

“Hey Tenya, how have you been?”

“I’ve been great. Hey, I got a venue for the afterparty. It’s a bar of one of my best friends. It’s down by the old man's shop.”

“I see. Y/N L/N, was it?”

“Yeah, her.” 

“I’m interested. Could you book the place for 25th November?” 

“Alright. I’ll email her. And Izuku?” 

“Mhm?”

“You’ll find her interesting.” 

“I hope so. It’s been a while” the putting out of a cigarette and footsteps towards the window was audible as the green haired hero overlooked the city.

series masterlist

[writesfic]

吃飯去 - ch 342

The photo sits weightlessly between his tremoring fingers, his knuckles white from pinching the picture tight. He Tian’s writing is really neat, and despite free-handing the tiny hanzi on photo paper in marker, each stroke is perfectly balanced and unsmudged. Mo scowls, rubs a finger against the pen as if to smear it himself, but the message stubbornly remains pristine. He Tian’s message is loud and clear, and he hates it.

Mo’s slow to admit it, because he’s paranoid and won’t stop second-guessing He’s hot and cold behaviours, but He is always good to him. Does unnecessary shit out of the blue, like blowing 8000 RMB on the latest electric guitar like it's nothing, just because Mo stopped to glance at it for two seconds, has him feeling mortified and angry, despite the accompanying swoop in his stomach.

The feeling almost passes for dread, because he knows he shouldn’t. Shouldn’t lose sight of his priority to make things better for his mother, to make sure that the only parent that was willing to sacrifice so much in order to raise him didn’t have to suffer through unstable income from a distant son. It was easier to excuse his desires when he didn’t have the money for a guitar. It’s so much worse now, that He Tian has given what he’s wanted for so long. Mo hates it, the fact that He can come into his life as a whirlwind and uproot it so easily for him.

Mo shuts his eyes, raising his thumb to cover He Tian’s irritating, fox-sly features on the glossy paper, “you just don’t understand.”

"Really? If you don't have the courage to change, you shouldn’t be holding on to any dreams, then,” the words startle Mo - he hadn’t realized he was there. His dark grey eyes piercing, and Mo feels so transparent against them. 

He scoops him up, and they just fit. Seamlessly, he sits in the crook of his arms, the rest of his body tilted forwards so that he has an excuse to harshly twine his fingers into soft, dark hair, only partially mean-spirited. Mo likes how easily he can bully into He’s space; not that he wants to, but that he doesn’t have to pull his punches; it's easier to communicate like this, rather than try to compose from the tangle of dark, desperate thoughts in mind.

“Let me take you to dinner. It’s like you don’t understand me well enough,” and though its said with good nature, Mo knows it to be true, “I guess we’ll just have to get to know each other better in the future.”

Wilful insistence that he doesn’t want to seems contrary, at this point, when he sinks his cold-tipped nose against the warmth of He Tian’s nape, and covers the rising blush by stretching out the collar of his jacket.

Still, Mo figures he understands enough. He Tian spells things out for him like he’s stupid, but he’s not. Mo sees the vague outline of He Tian’s future ahead of him too well - it’s written in the fabric of his eight million thread-count sheets and the cold window walls that display the picturesque, metropolitan skyline.

Mo feels the heartbeat countdown at his ears, where the blush has risen fiercely like a tide, and in the steady pulse at He Tian’s stomach, where his arm has hitched his leg to, immovable. It aches him fiercely because he knows that these feelings are on borrowed time, and his lease is up the second his father steps foot out of prison, right into their life again because he’s not strong enough to stop him, and his mother is too kind to do anything but endure.

Mo thinks that He’s words are nothing but empty promises, future loose ends, but right now the sting at his eyes are soothed by their proximity, and it's easier to breathe in the lingering scent of his shampoo that’s also on his hair, sit back against the crook of He Tian’s arm and trust him to take Mo where he needs to be.

[cosmiceverafter]

My @malexsanta Secret Santa gift for @gra-sonas 🎁🎄 I was thrilled to give you a Malex gift this year. You're one of my absolute favorites and such a dear friend. You wanted all the holiday cheer: Christmas ornaments, cookie recipe, market, and FLUFF! I hope this domestic fic truly delivers, brings joy to your holiday season, and fills your heart with warmth during the hiatus. I love you, hun! Xoxo.  ❤️️💚

(PS: there's a little surprise in this fic, just for you, inspired by you)

***

Christmas Cookies & Holiday Hearts 

"You know, this will be our first Christmas together. Officially." 

As Michael says the words, Alex glances over at him, and his heart skips a beat. How is it that his alien still manages to take his breath away after so much time? 

Alex smiles and gradually runs his fingertips up and down Michael's strong arm, feeling the smooth skin there. "You're right, even though I know you've tried to get me under a mistletoe for years." 

"I mean, yeah...." Michael beams. His tan shoulders shrug as he kisses Alex's chest softly, "You aren't wrong, babe. Who could deny those luscious lips?" 

Michael's fingers slowly trail up Alex's chest, which currently has imprints of his lover's glowing handprints left lovingly due to their intimacy with each other.

When he sees them, Alex knows with certainty that their love can move mountains and is capable of expanding through galaxies. 

As Alex feels the calluses of Michael's hands on his body and now his lips, he closes his eyes to embrace the effect it manages to bring. It's as if a spark of electricity courses through his veins and ignites his soul. That's the only way he can explain it. 

Nothing ever compares to this—what they have together in these silent moments. Alex will always cherish this peace with his loved one. 

After a moment of soft loving caresses, Michael's smile disappears. Alex knows he's traveling deeper into that intelligent mind of his, the way he always seems to do these days. "But here's the thing, I want it to be special, meaningful. Christmases were never something to be excited about for me, you know? Just another shitty day."

Alex holds his breath but nods. Unfortunately, he knows precisely what Michael means. Though different, the events of their past, parallel each other in many forms worth forgetting. Alex's upbringing was painful in its way. Still, Alex wishes Michael, his sweet, brilliant alien, could have been spared the misery. 

All Michael Guerin has ever wanted was a home, to feel like he belongs on this planet, and Alex wants to spend the rest of his life giving him precisely that. 

"So, you've never done anything memorable during the holiday season? Not once?"

Michael raises an eyebrow as if to announce come on, but then he suddenly laughs as a memory resurfaces, "Well...there was that one time Sanders and I attempted to bake Christmas cookies for his customers." 

Alex smirks as he imagines how that scene played out. A younger Michael Guerin, who was in-and-out of the foster system, and the older man with one good eye, baking in a small trailer. "And uh, how did that turn out?" Even though he can take a wild guess.

Michael shakes his head as his golden curls bounce and sway. He holds up his arm, "Badly, I have a battle scar from the process."

There is a slight white mark on the inside of Michael's arm, which looks a bit like a four-leaf clover. Alex has always wondered about it. "Damn, and here I thought that was a lucky birthmark."

"Darlin', the only good luck charm in my life is you. Never forget that." Alex feels his heart flutter in his chest at Michael's words, and Michael gently kisses Alex's forehead. But before Alex can return the sentiment, his love continues, "But yeah, Sanders' oven was old as hell at the time, and I guess no one taught me not to stick my whole damn arm right on the rack. Sanders felt awful about it. Poor guy." 

"Were the cookies at least good?"

There's a sparkle in Michael's eyes as he says, "You know what? They were. I need to find that damn recipe—it has to be somewhere. Then maybe I can take the old man one, even though you are the better baker." His fingers lace together with Alex's, and Alex gives him a loving squeeze. 

"You're right, I am," Alex smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. "But I would be happy to help you. Sanders would seriously love that!" 

Alex looks down at their hands still together. He is so happy that Michael now spends so much time with Walt. It is not a boss-employee type of relationship, but more of a familial one. After everything they had both been through, this progression felt natural. And if he's honest, Alex loves seeing Michael finally opening up to others, the way he does with Alex. 

Michael nods and grins, "Done." His caramel eyes gaze at Alex, and he turns over to his side. "But I want new memories, too. Truthfully, besides the cookie disaster, I've never had anyone to share the holidays with."

Again, Alex knows all too deeply what he means, "I know the feeling, my love. I've always admired Christmas from a distance, and it seemed...well, always on the outside looking in." He squeezes Michael's hand tightly through the sheets once more, "I'm thankful to have you by my side. We're both on this journey together." 

"Baby, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share the memories with." Michael brings the back of Alex's hand to his lips, "Always and forever." 

****

The next day, Alex and Michael decide to go Christmas shopping for their friends, who were more like their found family at this point. 

Roswell had turned festive overnight, and it warms Alex's heart as if he were sitting by the crackling embers. 

Truthfully, he loves the magic that comes with Christmas: The twinkling lights aglow; the cheerful, upbeat, and often, repetitive music; the smiling faces of those who don't wait till the last minute to shop; the smell of cinnamon sugar baked goods; and the falling snow—when they were lucky enough to get some. 

For the first time, Roswell has even set up a Christmas Market like the ones you'd see in Europe. Alex's desert town has turned into a quaint storybook village.

Somebody has strung up multicolored lights between the small buildings, with brightly colored booths, side-by-side. There are reindeer attached to strings high up in the air, and a magnificent tall Christmas tree is sparkling within the town square. Above the tree is a halo of orange lights, symbolizing their golden desert sun. 

It brightens both their spirits to witness the magic created. As Alex and Michael walk around, they hear the soft holiday music surrounding them, which only rekindles their melody passion. 

They travel to each booth as they look for treasures to buy for their loved ones. Alex also keeps his eyes open for something unique he can get his Michael, but nothing quite captures his glance. 

"Look at this!" Michael calls in the distance. He's standing in front of a lovely booth with peppermint designs on the awning and dangling glimmering white lights.

Alex sees what Michael is holding—it's a beautiful guitar ornament. Painted on the guitar are swirls of green, blue, and black, sparkled with stars symbolizing the night sky. 

"Wow..." he says in response. "It's breathtaking."

Michael winks and bumps his shoulder lightly into Alex's, "Pretty cosmic, eh?"

"I'll say," Alex agrees as his grin widens. 

"It was clearly made for us," Michael acknowledges as he wraps a strong arm around Alex's waist, "I think it would be the perfect ornament for our first tree together." 

Alex kisses Michael softly on the lips, "I couldn't agree more, my love." 

****

"So, you have no idea what you're getting him?" 

Michael looks over at Isobel feeling exhausted, not at all how he felt when shopping with Alex, "Obviously not, that's why we're here, Iz." 

"Michael, Christmas is less than one week away, and we're sitting in some random store, shopping for the love of your life, and you don't have a clue about a special gift for him?" 

"Yup, that sounds about right."

Isobel shakes her lengthy blond hair back-and-forth. "Have I taught you nothing over the years?"

Michael groans, "Remind me again why I asked you to come with me?" 

His alien sis just shrugs, "Because I'm brilliant, and it's obvious you need me. I would even add the word 'desperately.'"  

"No...I don't recall that being the reason," Michael teases as he slings his arm lovingly over her shoulders. "You just love this stuff." 

"You're right, I do. It's the best holiday these humans celebrate!" They both laugh, but Isobel kisses his cheek, "Listen, deep down somewhere underneath that dirty white tee of yours, you've gotta have an inkling of what you want to get him." 

Well, if he had a clue, he would know it, wouldn't he? 

But then Michael freezes as he sees something across the store, "Um, wow...that was fast, but you're right, I do."

 Isobel pops a hip out, "Told you so." 

"Yeah, the only problem is I'm not sure how he'll react to it." 

Isobel smiles genuinely, "You know your man; you always have. Go with your instinct, Michael. I mean, word around this town is that they call you a genius or something." She gives him a look as she ruffles up his curls. "But pull away from that mind for once and go with that heart of yours. I, for one, know it's a pretty damn good one." 

Michael snickers but truthfully feels loved, "You could write a self-help book, you know that?"

She winks and bites her red-stained lip, "Who says I haven't already?"

"Give your brother a signed copy. He'll appreciate it." 

"As if," Isobel rolls her eyes, "You know Max wouldn't read it. That poor miserable fool who I love dearly." She pauses but adds, "So, Mr. Guerin, what'll it be? You going to listen to your heart?"

Michael narrows his eyes at the prize. Already knowing the answer to her question, he decides to let his heart follow the lead.  

****

"A little to the left, babe!" Michael calls out to Alex as they attempt to fit the oversized tree through the cabin door. "Darlin', my left." 

They spent the evening looking for the perfect tree, as it was their official first Christmas together. However, they ended up going with a taller sparse, and lopsided pine because, truthfully, life wasn't perfect, and neither were they. 

Life is what you make it, and Michael is confident they can make this tree as bright as his heart feels when he's around Alex.   

"There, perfect spot by the window," Alex smiles beautifully, pulling Michael back into the present moment as he nods in agreement. 

"I should've tried harder not to get it through the door, though. Those muscles of yours are worth staring at a bit longer." 

"Well, hold that thought, Guerin, because I'm hungry for food at the moment," Alex replies as he wraps his arms around Michael. "I'm thinking of soup; it's chilly tonight. Maybe it'll even snow." 

Michael runs his fingers on Alex's thick biceps, feeling hungry for something else, "I doubt it. The forecast didn't show it. And knowing our little city, we'll probably end up having a heatwave tomorrow." 

"Hey now," Alex remarks, looking deeply into Michael's eyes, "you never can know future outcomes." 

Michael smiles mischievously, "I dunno...I think your future looks pretty damn bright tonight, babe." 

"Is that a promise?" Alex asks, clearly flirting back. 

"Always, darlin'.'" 

They lean in to share a long lingering kiss, but before it turns too heated, Michael's belly moans in betrayal. Alex pulls back as he chuckles, "Raincheck for later, okay? I'm going to start dinner. Can you set up the tree so we can decorate afterward?"

Michael glares down at his stomach for the interruption but nods, "Absolutely." He moves his fingers, "I do know how to use these hands."

Alex grins in that sexy way of his as he walks into the kitchen, "Don't I know it." 

Michael loves this. He loves that he decided to take the leap of faith and move in with Alex. This cabin has become their oasis, his true home. And here with Alex, he feels like he finally has a place here on earth. 

Everything they had been through, even the pain, was worth it to get to this moment. Michael can't help but feel tears form in his eyes as he feels overwhelmed in gratitude. 

While Alex moves around in the kitchen, Michael cheats a bit to get the tree set up. His powers hover the pine in the air as Michael uses his hands to set up the tree stand. As he moves the small box of ornaments and lights over from the closet, Michael smiles as he hears Alex humming a new song as he cooks. 

Michael wants to live here in this domestic bliss forever.

Alex brings out his home-cooked meal, and damn, Michael thinks as he eats, his man knows how to cook. After they eat the delicious soup, Michael scrubs the plates as Alex makes them each a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, just the way Michael likes it. When the kitchen is clean, they sip on the chocolatey warmth as they string lights and decorate their tree. 

"Here's our new one," Alex says as he holds their new cosmic ornament in his hand. 

"That's a special one that needs to go right in front," Michael replies, as he hangs it up, hand-in-hand with Alex. "There." 

Alex leans over and kisses his cheek, which warms Michael's heart. "It's perfect." 

"You're perfect," Michael states as he leans his head onto Alex's shoulder. Alex slides his arm around his waist. Their movements are continuously in sync, and they are always somehow touching. 

As Alex's fingers softly graze over the skin on his hip, Michael knows what kind of touch he desires right this moment, "Now, how about we curl up by the fire, and I show you just how talented my hands can be?" 

"Yes, I could use the reminder," Alex responds with a slow grin.

They quickly light the fire, then Alex gives Michael the look as he pulls him towards the couch. 

Being so helplessly caught up in each other, they miss the first few snowflakes that fall in Roswell. 

****

It's cold out, but worth the trip. Alex gives the nod towards Michael, who taps gently on Sanders' trailer door. 

Michael shifts uncomfortably, but Alex is proud of him for facing the emotions he knows his love feels inside. 

After Sanders admitted to trying to adopt Michael, it indeed did something to Michael's heart. He opened up more, and Alex knew that Michael slowly realized he was always wanted and truly loved where it counted. It did something to Sanders too. Alex could almost see the young boy Walt coming through when they spoke now. There was a twinkle in his eye, and he would share memories with a smile instead of sadness. 

They felt like a family. 

That's why they had talked before coming to the old man's house with the cookies. There is something big that Michael wants to do, but Alex knows he's scared. 

Alex is by his side the entire time. 

Sanders opens the door with a smile, "Oh, Michael! Alex! Welcome! I wasn't expecting you." He shakes his shirt with a look of embarrassment. 

"We wanted to surprise you!" Alex says with a grin. He shakes the old man's hand. 

Sanders pats the back of his hand lightly, "I'm glad you did. Please, come in, you two. It's actually cold out." 

Michael takes a big breath and follows Sanders inside. 

When inside, Michael hands him the cookies, "Merry early Christmas." 

"Oh! These look delicious," Sanders says admiringly. 

"I'm not sure if you remember, but these are the exact cookies we made that one Christmas together." 

Sanders looks up at Michael with surprise, "Truly? The... 'burn on the arm' year?"

Michael nods with a jokingly wince, "The very one."

Sanders blows out hard, "Well, it always pained me that you got burned on that damn old oven of mine, but I must say, those cookies were superb, weren't they?" 

"They were, burned and all." 

"And you baked these all by yourself? Uh, should I be scared?" Sanders teases with a nudge. 

"Nah, I had some guidance," Michael mentions as he casually puts his arm around Alex. 

Alex shrugs, "I barely helped at all. Michael here did an excellent job. I tried one, so I can promise you that you'll survive." He winks at Michael. 

"Oh, phew! That's a relief," Sanders chuckles. "Michael, where did you find the recipe?" 

"In the garage, it was in a wooden box on one of your shelves. The one that's slightly tilting. I remembered you putting it in there." Michael taps his head, "I'm pretty observant if you haven't already noticed."

Sanders sighs with a lopsided grin, "You get it from me, I think." He pops one in his mouth. "Wow, absolutely delicious." After he chews, he looks towards Michael with an expression of gratitude. "Well, thank you, son, this means a lot to me."

Alex knows what the word son does to Michael, its effect on him, and Michael shifts awkwardly. He looks over to Alex for reassurance, and Alex holds his hand, comforting him the best way he knows how.  

His strength, after all, is linked to Michael's. They go together in every way that matters. 

"That's not the only thing I brought for you," Michael whispers. He reaches into his back pocket and hands Sanders the envelope. 

"Oh, a Christmas card?"

"Um, well, not exactly," Michael replies as he squeezes Alex's hand tighter. 

Sanders puts on his reading glasses and switches the lights on brighter in the trailer. He opens the envelope and starts to read. The small smile on his face begins to fall, and he becomes nonplussed.

Alex acknowledges that Michael gets uncomfortable, maybe even nervous, but Alex knows that Sanders is touched. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sanders looks up, and his eyes are full of tears. His voice comes out raspy and hoarse as he asks, "You sure? You want that?"

"More than anything," Michael responds, his voice also full of emotion. "If you'll have me, of course." 

"It would be an honor, son." Sanders sets the adoption papers onto his small wooden table and pulls Michael tightly in his arms. "You've always felt like mine, anyway." 

"I think my mom would be happy about this," Michael cries, letting the tears fall down his face. It's the most beautiful sight to witness, and Alex can't help but let go, too. 

Sanders nods and closes his eye as he holds his son, "You know, my boy, I think she would." 

****

A few days before Christmas, Alex and Michael decide to throw a little festive party at the cabin. They spent the morning stringing up lights outside, getting the drink station ready, and preparing their friend's gifts around the tree. 

It was perfect. 

Isobel is the first to arrive, of course, and she brings so many gifts, she can hardly get through the door, "Hello? A little help here, Michael?" 

"I'm coming. I'm coming!" 

Alex finishes up in the kitchen, and even though the feast smells delicious, Michael's man looks good enough to eat. 

Soon after Isobel has her martini in hand, the others follow suit. 

Liz and Kyle come together, hand-in-hand, and Michael prays it won't be awkward with Max. Gregory shows up, and Isobel immediately wraps her arms around him. Michael and Alex share a knowing smile, especially when she holds a mistletoe above his head. Then Maria and Mimi head inside with a few bottles of wine. With holes in the top, Rosa brings a large box inside, making Michael wonder what it is, but Arturo follows with a banana cream pie from the diner, and the rest is history. Sanders joins, of course, and Michael can't help but hug him longer than the rest. And finally, his boy Max. 

Luckily everyone gets along perfectly. The group has been through so much together that they make a toast for a fresh new beginning. 

Everyone at the party finally knows about the aliens being, well, aliens, and swore to protect them. The secret has bonded and united them in ways Michael never expected.

The group mingles as they sip their drinks, and Michael looks around the room at his friends and family, feeling lucky. He made a life for himself in Roswell, and as he looks towards the love of his existence, Michael knows it's time. 

He takes a moment to just stare at Alex, and suddenly he's beyond grateful he listened to his heart. 

Alex is the one for him. Michael now understands that this human was his reason for coming to this planet—they were written in the stars long ago, destined to be together. 

This is why Michael stands up bravely, walks towards Alex, and gets down on one knee. 

Michael opens the little black box he got in the store with Isobel and reveals a silvery gray tantalum band, one he knows will fit Alex perfectly. 

Isobel hushes everyone down and clasps her hands together as she sends Michael a wink from across the room. Max also gives Michael an encouraging nod, which provides him with the strength he needs at that moment. 

Michael stares up at the man he adores, and Alex's perfect mouth falls open. Taking his love's hand, Michael finally finds his voice, "Alex Manes, you are my whole world. When we were teens, you looked at me in music class and sparked something deep inside me; something I didn't quite understand, but it was there with me all along. And when we kissed for the first time, you woke me up to the life I had always dreamed of having. You are that dream, Alex. You are my family, and you've given me a place to call home. I have loved you from the beginning, and I'll love you to the very end." Michael takes a deep breath, "I would be the happiest alien on earth if you would yes. So please, darlin', will you marry me?" 

Alex gleams as tears fill those beautiful eyes, "We truly are linked...." 

"What...what do you mean?" Michael whispers, but Alex immediately joins him on the floor, kneeling in front of him. 

Alex pulls out an emerald velvet box and opens it. Inside is an engraved bronze band that matches the color of Michael's eyes. He holds his breath as the rest of the world fades away. "I mean, you beat me to it even though I've had this ring since we officially got together." Alex places his hand to Michael's face and strokes his cheek gently. "I was waiting for our first Christmas together because I wanted to give us both a happy memory to erase all the bad ones. The plan was going to ask Walt for his approval, which he wholeheartedly gave." They both look at Sanders, who nods with a loving grin. "And then I'd get down on one knee in front of all our loved ones and ask if you'd continue to create this life together with me, a true home." Then Alex holds Michael's hand again, "All I can say is that I love you more than I could ever begin to put into words, and I'm asking you if you'd do me the honor in marrying me?"

Michael doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the drops land on his outstretched hand. "Oh my God, Alex...." 

"Is that a yes?"

Michael laughs softly as he strokes the back of Alex's hand gently, "I believe I asked you first, darlin'." 

Alex nods with a breathtaking smile, tears flickering those beautiful dark eyes, "Of course I will. A hundred times, yes!" He leans in closer to Michael, "And you?"

"That would be a hell yes, baby!" He hears a whoop from one of his friends in the background, but then Michael gets serious. "It's always been a yes for me." Michael cups Alex's face, "You're my human, Alex Manes." 

"That's Alex Sanders if you don't mind."

Michael looks over at his adoptive father again, who's now wiping his eyes and positively glowing. Michael kisses Alex's lips, "I don't mind a bit." 

As they finish their first engaged kiss, their friends cheer, cry, and hug them both tightly, then Isobel giggles, "Is now a good time to give you two our gift?" 

"Go for it, Scooby Squad," Michael exclaims as he takes Alex's hand in his own, never wanting to let go. 

Isobel looks to the room they had closed, "Okay, Rosa, bring her out!" 

Michael and Alex exchange a look. Bring who out?

And before Michael can overthink it, Rosa comes out holding a beagle puppy. "It's a rescue. The shelter I volunteer at found her abandoned on the side of the road." 

"We thought it would be perfect for you two, plus, remember that dinner we had a couple of weeks ago?" Isobel says as she looks towards Alex. "You practically said you were going to start looking for one. I remember you saying, 'the cabin is much too quiet, I think we need to get a dog.'"

Alex laughs and takes the small puppy into his arms, "I don't recall those were my exact words, but it doesn't matter; she's perfect."

"Lost without a family," Michael says, petting the puppy's long ears, "sounds like the two of us all right."

"You mean a found family!" Liz calls out. "Just like all of us."

Alex looks at Michael and nods. Michael smiles back, "We love her. Thank you, everyone!"

"I knew this pup would be a part of your future," Mimi exclaims, and Michael watches Alex wink at her. "She's a gentle soul. I'm happy she'll have you two." 

"Best dog daddies ever," Maria smiles happily. Everyone in the room has what seems to be permanent heart-eyes. "We will miss her, though! She's been staying with us." 

"Well, you know you all are welcome here anytime!" Alex says. 

"What will you name her?" Gregory asks as Isobel leans back into his arms. 

"How about Kyletta?" Michael laughs as he looks towards Kyle. "Kyletta Barklenti." 

"Real funny, alien boy," Kyle responds, as he rolls his eyes looking reasonably amused. He looks over at the food, "How about Bagel? You seemed to be pretty obsessed with those today, Guerin. I mean, how many did you actually eat?" 

"I was hungry!" Michael retorts, "You didn't bring nearly enough to share." 

"Okay, okay," Alex intervenes as he shakes his head. Michael enjoys ruffling Kyle's feathers, but Michael doesn't mind the guy beneath his human annoyances. He's a good friend to Alex, making him a good man in Michael's book. 

"So, what are you going to name her then?" Max asks from across the room.

"Yeah, I mean, you don't actually have to name her after a food," Kyle teases. 

"No," Michael grins, "you know what, Doc? I like it. Bagel. It has that—" 

"Bagel! Yes, call her Bagel. I love it!" Isobel interrupts. 

"Not again..." Michael groans quietly. Isobel + anything bagel = interruptions, which is a no-go, especially when it comes to Alex. 

After they finalize the name, everyone gushes over the puppy and their rings. They eat, share stories, and finish opening gifts. 

The day is perfect in every way. Even on the Hallmark channel, they don't make them better than this.

Michael holds Bagel in his arm and takes a break from the crowd. He sits on the couch in the living room, and the puppy folds up into his lap, falling asleep as Michael rubs her ears. 

After a moment or two, someone strokes his shoulder lightly, and he looks up to see his fiancé's beautiful face. Michael feels immensely grateful, not for the first time this holiday season.

Alex scoots in close and whispers in Michael's ear, "So, my love, would you say this Christmas is worth remembering?" 

Michael pulls Alex in his arms, "Yes, darlin'. I've never been happier in my life." He takes Alex's hand with the ring and kisses it. "Our family is already growing."

"It sure is," Alex says, putting his forehead against Michael's as he strokes Bagel's soft fur. 

They sit there for a while, just the three of them, with the comforting hum of loved ones surrounding them. 

"Wow...Look, Michael." Michael looks out the window to see it snowing.  The snowflakes fall to the ground in a swirling dance. It reminds Michael of their life together, new and old memories, coming together in a story of love. 

Michael feels complete peace in his heart as Alex says, "Merry Christmas, my love."

It was merry, and their future, well, Michael knows it will be very bright as long as they always have each other. 

"I love you," Michael answers. 

Alex's reply is the kiss they share and would continue sharing for the rest of their days. 

[stxrshxpxd]

a gra fic! :)

*

Pairing: 2010s graham coxon x reader

Word count: 2.383

Warnings: smut, age gap (45ish/20ish)

Requested by anon x

(ok so i didnt really know how to premise this but i decided to make it like an au where hes not famous and hes just a guitar teacher, to avoid any dodgy family friend relations or whatever for the ppl that feel uncomfortable with that heh (bc famous gra probably wouldn’t be teaching guitar to someone whos not already a friend in some way, if he was still a famous successful musician, you know???)) anyway enjoy this very very unrealistic fic x

* * *

“Try that for me,” Graham asked in his usual small voice. He was sitting across from me - his knees almost touching mine - with an electric guitar resting on his thigh. I was holding one as well and desperately trying to focus on what his hands were playing, rather than the details of the veiny pattern on the back of them.

“Uh,” I mumbled and tried to place my fingers like he had placed his on the strings, but quickly getting confused. I had been taking guitar lessons with Graham for a few months and it was getting harder and harder to push away the inappropriate thoughts.

I had never really had a crush on a teacher before, but of course a guitar tutor would conjure up those feelings in me. Musicians really are a whole different breed.

“Like this,” Graham helped and moved my fingers to the right strings. He was leaned in closer to me and I could feel my heart beating harder behind my ribs.

“Ah, sorry,” I apologised for my inability to pick up such a simple pattern. I caught a second of eye contact with Graham before turning my head down to hide my hot cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be,” he said with a cute concerned tone in his voice. “That’s why you’re here, to learn.”

I nodded and desperately continued to try chasing my inappropriate thoughts away. I played the chord progression almost flawlessly, and mentally beat myself up for the small errors I did. I hated failing in front of Graham. He was one of the sweetest and understanding people I’d ever met but he still intimidated me because when he played guitar he was a completely different person. I just needed his approval so bad.

“Good,” he mumbled and nodded his head. I looked up at his face again. His glasses had slid a bit further down his nose and his dark fringe laid messily across his forehead.

“Y/N.. Is there something wrong?” Graham asked after a short moment of silence and me getting a bit lost in his dark brown eyes.

“What?” I asked back and shifted in my seat. The awkward tension grew between us and Graham stared back at me with a puzzled expression and a small confused smile on his lips.

“You seem distracted,” he explained.

A war broke out in my head. One part of me wanted to just spit it out and admit to being extremely attracted to him, and another wanted me to shut up and stop acting so odd and pathetic. I settled for a stiff shrug of my right shoulder and an increased heartbeat.

“You’re probably not gonna learn much if you’re thinking about something else… Has something happened?” Graham asked. Concern had completely taken over his voice now and he was still leaned in close to me. It made my chest tighten with infatuation for him and the way he was genuinely worried about me.

“No, I’m just.. thinking,” I shrugged again and looked down on our knees that were even closer to touching now. 

“About?”

I could tell was being as careful as he possibly could and he really didn’t want to put any pressure on me. And he didn’t. All the pressure that was on me I put on myself. At last the impulsive side of me won and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Your hands.”

Graham was taken aback a bit and laughed nervously. He leaned back again and I felt like throwing up. Why did I have to be so stupid?

“What about them?” he chuckled.

I had already dug myself a hole that was impossible to get out of, might as well keep digging.

“They’re, uh.. attractive,” I mumbled and swallowed nervously. I couldn’t think of a single adjective that felt appropriate to use. It felt like I was sweating from every pore and there wasn’t a single cell in my body in which I felt sexy or like I was capable of seducing this forty-something year old man.

“Attractive?” He asked and sent the ball right back to my court. To be fair, I was the one who had started this whole thing. I deserved to feel this uncomfortable.

“Yeah, like.. I-want-them-on-my-body attractive. That sort of thing,” I kept digging my hole and Graham’s cheeks were now getting a bit red too.

He stared at me in silence for four seconds. I counted them carefully and slower than normal, so it was probably even longer in reality. He then looked down for another few prolonged seconds. I began lining up all the curse words I knew in my head and threw them at myself.

“Okay,” Graham said quietly as he slowly looked up again. He was still hugging the guitar and his hand tightly clasped the neck of it, rather nervously.

“Well,” he continued uttering words, but not forming a sentence that carried any of this agony forward or backward or in any direction really. I couldn’t speak because I knew whatever I said I would make everything worse.

“Would you like to do something about it?” he asked cautiously and suddenly took a giant leap in the conversation. His head was tilted downwards slightly but he was looking me in the eye as my stomach turned over with nerves. I knew I should’ve said no and he knew he shouldn’t have asked that but here we were and I couldn’t think of any other answer but yes.

“Yeah,” I answered in a weak mumble.

Graham reached out to put the guitar back in its stand and I figured this was one of those times when actions speak louder than words. I did the same and sat back again with my clammy palms resting on my thighs. Graham had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he reached his hand out. He touched my leg gently with his fingertips and lifted my hand from my thigh. The notion that all this was highly inappropriate was forgotten as soon as he loosely held my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. I felt like I’d been holding my breath for the last ten minutes.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. Graham held my one hand a bit tighter and reached out for the other one. I took it as a sign and took a giant metaphorical leap of my own. I stood up on wobbly legs and clumsily straddled his lap. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and I was wearing a pair of tight black ones. Even with all this fabric separating us, I could feel Graham harden a bit under me as I slowly grinded my hips back and forth a couple times. His hands let go of mine and immediately held my face, making me look into his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s weird,” he whispered. I could’ve sworn his lips were already touching mine - with the way I could taste his breath - but I soon realised they weren’t. I wanted them to be.

“You tell me,” I said with a nervous laughter. “I started this,” I joked and looked away from his eye contact. I was caught in a feeling more conflicting than I had ever felt before. Half of me wanted to tear every part of clothing from our bodies, while the other half was terrified and wanted to run away and never have to expose my body to Graham. The thought that he was old enough to be my father crossed my mind fleetingly and I was turned off for a minute, but at the same time I couldn’t keep from kissing him for much longer.

Graham’s hands were calmly resting on my hips now. I pressed my sweaty palms against his soft stomach under his shirt and watched his gaze fall to eye me up and down - or down and up, rather. He helped by raising his arms and I pulled his striped t-shirt off. I threw a glance at the, closed but not locked, door. We had about fifteen minutes left of the lesson, but I knew there was still a risk of another tutor or student walking in at any second. It made me more nervous and more excited.

I realised I would have to step down from his lap to take my jeans off. Now when I had finally gotten it I never wanted to break my contact with his body. I stood up hastily and struggled to get my tight jeans off. I then tore my hoodie off and felt completely naked. I was still wearing my pair of mismatched, yet oddly flattering, bra and pants as I stood frozen to the ground and allowed myself to stare at Graham’s bare torso. He looked even more handsome without a shirt than I could’ve ever imagined. His shoulders were broader than his waist and his stomach looked smooth and warm with a few soft hairs around his belly button and his chest.

“Help me out of these,” Graham suggested and both our gazes fell to his crotch. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the bulge inside his jeans.

I nodded and kneeled down in front of him, placing my hands on his firm thighs. I could see a modest grin begin to form on his lips. He was clearly enjoying the sight of me on my knees in front of him. As my breathing picked up, I undid his jeans and pulled them all the way off his legs as he stood up to help. My hands were back on his thighs as he sat down again and I let one of them wander up to cup his prominent bulge outside of his underwear. A quiet moan fell from his lips. There was something raspy in his otherwise soft and gentle voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” Graham mumbled, the newfound rasp still apparent in his voice.

“Thank you,” I breathed shyly and kept rubbing his erection for a few more intense seconds before I decided I needed him inside me.

I stood up again and Graham pulled his pants down to the middle of his thighs. I didn’t mean to sound so defeated or in absolute awe - even though I was - but I exhaled sharply at the sight of a nude Graham with his hard cock in his hand. My reversed gasp made him smirk again. It looked out of place on his face but I liked it.

“Come here,” he mumbled softly and leaned in to give my stomach a few wet kisses as his large hands held my waist. His grip around me was just as gentle yet firm as his grip around his guitar.

He pulled me onto his lap again and kissed up my body, until our lips finally connected. Graham pulled my underwear to the side and my whole body twitched lightly as I grinded my clit against his length. He dropped a mumbling comment about how wet I was and I giggled nervously. I refused to believe I had made him this hard.

“Do I make you this hard?” I asked. I realised right away that it was a stupid question to ask.

“Yes, clearly,” Graham chuckled. There was a bit of struggle in his voice again as he was just about fed up with my slow teasing hip movements.

Graham held my hip as he finally guided the tip towards my entrance. I sank down slowly as his size stretched my walls out and made them ache. A few whispers fell from my mouth and I could feel him watching me. I opened my eyes and looked into his. They were large and round and just as dark and beautiful as always. I kissed him again and we both moaned quietly into the kiss. Graham’s left hand was still on my hip and his right was gently cupping my  breast. I was still wearing my bra but he pulled it down slightly and moved his lips from mine down to my nipple.

“Do you mind if I leave some marks?” he asked and kissed around my nipple softly as he waited for me to answer.

“Not at all,” I breathed. 

I had fully adjusted to his size and rode him faster and faster as I came closer to my climax. Graham sank his teeth into the skin on my chest and sucked hard on it. It prompted an even louder moan from me and even made Graham hush me as he laughed quietly. It was a smug laugh.

With the wonderful pain from his teeth sinking into my skin and his cock as deep as it could go inside me, it wasn’t long before the orgasm built up inside me. It came quickly and almost caught me off guard when it washed over me, contorting my whole body and making me exhaustedly fall down with my forehead pressed against his shoulder. Graham held both my hips now and thrusted a few more times before he pulled out suddenly and came all over his hand and thigh. Seeing his veiny hand all covered in his own cum and hearing his heavy breaths almost made me want to go for another round right away but I contained myself and backed away from him. 

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I buttoned my jeans and pulled my hoodie over my head. Graham had found some tissues to wipe his hand with and was standing faced away from me. His back was broad and beautiful and I wanted to kiss every inch of it.

“Well, I’ll.. see you next week then,” I said awkwardly and Graham turned around. The apples of his cheeks were still tinted pink and I could imagine mine were as well. He laughed lightly and walked back up to me. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and smiled.

“Yeah..”

I grabbed my stuff and awkwardly waddled out of the room with sweaty palms and a small grin that was untameable. My skin was still burning with the feeling of his teeth and lips on it. I knew there were already bruises and marks all over my chest and neck.

***

❤️❤️❤️

[kirishimaskousin]

Finding Out His S/O Can Sing

Please enjoy these fluffy head cannon/one shots for Bakugou, Kirishima, and Denki. I linked all the songs, and 100% recommend them. 

Warnings: none

A/N: I don’t think each student has their own bathroom in the AU dorms,,,,but I’ve taken creative liberties. fight me. Also, I tried not to be too specific about gender or race, but Kirishima’s is about wash day sooooo. (my blackness is showin....not sorry) 

Bakugou Katsuki

Song: Kiss You Right Now by Duckworth

It was Saturday evening. You had come to Bakugou’s dorm earlier that morning to study for a big test. 

Bakugou sat at his desk and you sat cross legged on his bed, surrounded by notes and books.The studying was going well...

Until you fell asleep. 

“(Y/N) Do you have notes from chapter–”

He turned around to see you sprawled out on his bed. If it was anyone else, he’d be mad that they were wasting his time. Instead, he just looked over your frame. He studied the rise and fall of your chest, the slight twitch in your lips, and the small sliver of torso that peeked from under your tousled shirt. 

He picked up the notes you were laying on so that you didn’t crumple them any further and left you to go train. 

When he returned, he expected you to still be asleep or to be gone to study on your own. 

So, when he heard a muffled voice coming from his room, he stood listening for a moment. 

The voice was mellow and effortlessly enchanting. He’d never admit it, but he wanted to stay there listening forever. 

He cracked open the door just enough to see you sitting at his desk and wearing one of his large hoodies with your headphones in. You were facing away from him, doing more singing than studying, so he stepped inside to watch you dance around in your seat. 

You fell silent for a moment, and Bakugou opened his mouth to speak. Before he could call you out though, you began to sing in a more sensual tone. 

“I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody, right now.”

A blush crept up bakugou’s neck, and a crooked smile played on his lips.  He rubbed the hairs on the back of his neck as he tried to make a decision. 

“I think I wanna miss you, purposely leave so I can come back to you, right now.”

Part of him wanted to keep listening, drinking in your buttery voice. 

The other part of him wanted to wrap his arms around you from behind and give you the kisses you sang about. 

And a teeny tiny part of him just wanted to scare you.

“That's some holy matrimony, how we joining our lips. Holy moly the one and only to grip on yo hips.”

With those exciting words, your dark voice, and the languid motion of your head, he made up his mind.

With two large strides, he crossed the room and spun you around in his chair. 

The sudden movement made you jump and clutch your chest, but you barely got the chance to scold your smirking boyfriend before he planted a harsh kiss on your lips. 

One of your headphones laid on the desk, still playing as Bakugou kissed your breath away.

“When I kiss you, Right her in front of everybody, right now.”

As if he could hear your lungs screaming for air, Bakugou pulled away and walked towards his shower. 

“If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just said it.” And he shut the bathroom door behind him. 

Denki Kaminari

Song: Electricity by: Sam Pinkerton

Class 1-A was still riding the high from the school festival. Everyone had worked so well together and had so much fun showing off their talents that they decided to have their very own class talent show. 

Chatter and giggles filled the common room as everyone piled onto the plush couches. You were running a bit behind, so all the seats were filled when you got there. 

You scanned the group, looking for a seat on the floor with the best view of the “stage”. Before you could find your seat, Denki called out to you.

“I saved you a seat right here.” He patted his lap and you chuckled a little. 

Kaminari never really cared about PDA. He was so proud to call you his girlfriend and he took every chance to show the world that you were together. He’d hold your hand in the market, pull you close when you shared a booth at a restaurant, and even stole kisses on your strolls. 

For the most part, you were okay with his affections, but you rarely let him do such things around your classmates. You knew they’d tease you relentlessly, and mineta would definitely be a perv about it. 

But, everyone was focused on their conversations, so you took your seat in Denki’s lap.  

“What’s cracking cutie?” He laughed, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Excited to show off your talent?” 

“Um, not really.” You held up your hand to show your trembling fingers. “I’m a bit nervous.” You’d been a part of the technical team for the school festival, so no one had to see you, but today there'd be so many pairs of eyes on you. and Shoji’s quirk didn’t help 

Denki grabbed your hand and brought it to his cheek. “Don’t worry babe, I know you’re gonna be great”  

“You don’t even know what my talent is.”

“That is true,” he let out giggle “but everything you do is amazing. I believe in you.” He gave you a quick peck on your cheek. You weren’t sure if it was your nerves, your heart, or Denki’s quirk, but you felt a spark where his lips had been. Denki pulled you in tight, as everyone began to perform.

The talent show was almost over, and it was your turn. You looked to Jiro, who was plugging her guitar into an amp. She nodded to you once you were ready, and you took the stage. 

Looking at all your classmates made your stomach flip, so you looked to your boyfriend instead. He sat there in his pikachu onesie  I couldn’t help myself clapping his hands with the biggest smile on his face. 

A smile that eased your nerves.

Jiro began to play, you closed your eyes, and let the words fall from your lips.

“I remember the first time that I ever looked you in the eye”

The smile on Denki’s face slowly melted into an amazed gasp. He’d call you an angel before, but he was starting to think there was more truth to that pet name than he originally thought. 

The lyrics dripped off your tongue like syrup, and your voice wrapped him in a warm embrace.

‘I love you like I never stopped. I need you not to break my heart”

 You opened your eyes, staring into Denki’s. Everyone was leaning forward in their seats, but you only noticed Denki. 

“The electricity between you and me”

A blush dusted the tip of his nose as you shared sickeningly sweet stares. His proud gaze filled  you with confidence to sing harder. As long as you were singing to him, everything would be fine. 

Before you knew, the song ended and Denki was released from his trance.

“WOOOOOOOHH!! THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND EVERYONE!” Denki ran up to you, pulling you into a suffocating hug and jumping up and down. Heat rose in your cheeks. His praise meant the world to you.

Eijiro Kirishima 

Song: If I Was Your Woman cover by: Alicia Keys

Kirishima had heard you sing many times before. You two would sit down to play a video game or watch funny videos, and end up singing silly made up songs until Mr. Aizawa came to yell at you about breaking curfew. 

Kirishima hadn’t heard your real voice though. Whenever you sang together, your notes were broken up by fits of giggles and silly dance moves. 

He didn’t know how well you could sing until the day you brought all your hair and skin care products to his room. It was one of your few days off from hero training, and you were in desperate need of a wash day, but you also wanted to spend time with Kiri, so you decided to compromise. 

Wash day in Kirishima’s room!! 

He just sat back as you connected to his speaker, played your washday playlist and disappeared into his bathroom. 

The songs on the playlist were all soulful and rhythmic, something Kiri wasn’t used to.

This guy def listens to EDM and rap 25/8

He just sprawls out on his back and savors the domestic symphony. The sweet melodies, the sound of your shower, and your light hums all wash over him.

Kirishima is at peace, and nearly falls asleep. But, his ears perk up as he hears your voice spilling under the bathroom door. You weren’t humming anymore. You were actually singing, and it was heavenly. 

“If I was your woman and you were my man”

He had definitely underestimated your talent. Your voice was soft but textured, like you were pulling the lyrics from your very core. He turned the speaker down to hear you better. 

“You're a part of me but you don't even know it. I’m what you need but I'm too afraid to show it.”

You were filling the song with passion and heartache, but it came so easily. Your voice was so strong and clear, unlike anything he’d ever heard from you.  

Kirishima, captivated by the song, got up to stand by the bathroom door. You hit every note, rode every riff, and blew him away. Your voice reverberated through the walls as he anticipated the song’s climactic bridge. 

“If I were your woman. If I were your woman, here's what I'd do. I'd never, never, stop loving you.”

The words rang in his chest, and tears welled in his eyes. He wanted to suck the tears back up, but even Crimson Riot, the manliest man, would cry at your performance. So he let the droplets fall. 

The song ended, and the water turned off. He could hear you padding around the bathroom as you continued to hum to yourself, but He was stuck there, replaying your song over and over in his mind. 

You stepped out of the bathroom, steam pooling at your feet. “Why are you standing at the door, Kiri?”

He didn’t answer. He just took in your smaller frame, clad in fuzzy shorts, one of his band tees, and a towel wrapped around your head. How could you be so casual after singing your heart out?

“I- I’m just glad to be your man.” He pulled you into a hug that nearly crushed your ribs. 

It took a moment to click, but when it did, you let out an airy chuckle. “Oh you heard me? Oops.”

“Don’t apologize, you sounded so beautiful.”

“Thanks Kiri. I’m glad to be your woman.” You left a soft kiss on his lips then pulled two packages from behind your back. “Now,” you said, excitement bubbling inside of you, “Time for face masks!”

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 5

this is still a working title. I just can’t decide if it fits or not, so feel free to offer any suggestions! once I finish this fic I’m going to go back and reblog it in it’s entirety and I promise I will finalize and update the title for all the reblogs to make it easier to find in the future. I’m probably also going to post the completed fic to AO3, possibly with some slight editing updates. I’ll add the link once that’s active.

also, I want you all to know that I almost missed a typo in this chapter that would have had Julie biting her nip instead of her lip so you’re welcome for that. 

also also, this chapter solidified my decision to write this fic from Luke’s perspective once I finish Julie’s. my god, the things happening in this boy’s head during this scene had me taking a bath and calling my husband for cuddles at 2pm. HE’S JUST TOO SOFT. Reggie and Alex will be more prominent in his story. their characters are so fun to write, but harder to work into Julie’s story until it’s closer to the end. 

to be fully honest, I’m not entirely happy with the cut-off on this chapter, but I felt like y'all deserved all 3,084 words after a 6 day hiatus so I had to pick a slightly more awkward end spot. hope it makes up for taking so long to update!

tag list (lmk if you want me to add you!): @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​

Julie didn’t expect to see Luke the next day. When her alarm went off at 6:45 that morning, she woke up with a start, heart racing as memories of last night flooded back. She had been ready to defend herself and Luke to her father, but it had been business as usual in the Molina household. Her father had gotten up like normal and gone about his morning without any hiccups from a very cute, unexpected teenage boy showing up. Julie could hear him leaving for work now, calling up a loving goodbye to her in between shouts at Carlos to hurry his butt into the car. When she peeked out of her window at the studio it looked exactly the same as it always did, empty and still. For a moment, she was sure that she dreamed the entire thing.

Something felt different in her soul though. Realigned, like a part of her she didn’t realize was missing had finally made its way back home. Everything in her body felt lighter as she got dressed and floated down the stairs to grab her breakfast. She was riding high on cloud nine, humming actually humming! under her breath as she moved around the kitchen, when a loud rap at the back door startled her. Flynn would have just walked in so it couldn’t be her. Her dad, too, would have simply run inside if he had forgotten something. It wasn’t until she was already reaching for the door handle that she recognized the electricity sparking in the air. She opened the door to a now familiar pair of puppy dog eyes waiting on the other side.

“I thought I told you to leave by 6:30 so my dad wouldn’t see you.”

Julie tried to make her voice snappy, but it was so hard when he was standing there, bobbing and weaving in the early morning sunshine, eyes shining, lips curved into the sweetest smile. He took her words in stride. His smile stretched as his head dipped with a charming amount of bashfulness. She realized with a jolt that he had been doing that for days now, ever since she ran into him after her meeting with Ms. Harrison. Just rolling right through every punch she threw at him like it was nothing. Her walls slipped a little lower.

“I thought I could make you breakfast. You know, as a thank you for last night.”

Her brain short circuited. Luke Patterson...wanted to...make her breakfast? She had to turn the words over in her mind a few times before they began to make sense. Julie studied him for a moment, noticing that he seemed much more like his normal confident self this morning. Gone was the unsteady boy that had stood in her mom’s studio doorway last night. Still, one shoulder was hitched a little higher than the other, his fingers flexing against the backpack strap slung over it. His face was open and eager, but she could detect the hint of nervousness that he was trying to cover up. She caught a faint whiff of jasmine as a slight breeze blew past them and immediately zeroed in on the damp wisps of hair curling around his neck. The thought of Luke in her shower, using her soap was almost her undoing. Desperately trying to get a hold on the situation, she leaned against the open doorway, crossing her arms across her chest in what she hoped was a nonchalant movement.

“I thought we were going to pretend last night didn’t happen.”

His smile faltered a little bit, his free hand flying up to scratch at the back of his neck. His bouncing shifted to rocking, and Julie felt the change in his demeanor like a punch to her gut.

“Yeah...okay...I mean if that’s what you want. I’ll uh, see you around, Molina.”

His voice lacked its typical singsong quality, rejection flattening the lilt she had become accustomed to. Pain bloomed in Julie’s chest, familiar and foreign all at the same time. It wasn’t like the pain she was used to, wasn’t connected to her mom or her music. This pain was all about Luke and the fact that she had just hurt him for no reason at all. Shame rolled through her stomach in a nauseous wave. Luke was already adjusting the bag higher on his shoulder, turning away from her, body language all but screaming “leave me alone”. It didn’t stop her from reaching out and laying a hand against his shoulder.

“Luke.”

His name was a plea and an apology rolled into one. She felt the ripple of his muscles as his body reacted to it, dropping her hand only when he turned to face her. Their eyes caught, the air sparking between them.

“What were you going to make?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes never leaving hers. She knew she had to do better, but God, it was hard to face your feelings after bottling them up for so long.

“For breakfast. I usually just grab a Pop-Tart to eat on my walk to school. Do you actually cook every morning?”

Luke was still staring. Julie bit her lip, the tail end of a nervous giggle that she couldn’t quite suppress all the way slipping out. The sound seemed to jolt him out of whatever trance he was in. In two seconds, he was back to bouncing on the balls of his feet, arms loose at his sides once more.

“Yeah, I do.”

The shy smile on his lips did something to Julie’s insides that she wasn’t willing to investigate just yet.

“Usually eggs, but sometimes waffles or pancakes on the weekends. Bacon if the boys are coming over. It’s the most important meal of the day, ya know.”

His eyes were bright again, practically glowing like they usually did when he started talking about something he was passionate about. Julie had only ever seen him like this when he was going off on another music related rant in class. Who knew breakfast foods could be so inspiring?

“Well, that sounds a lot better than strawberry Pop-Tarts.”

She turned, leaving the door open as she started to walk back towards the kitchen. She could hear Luke hesitate in the doorway, but all it took was one look over her shoulder and he was rushing in after her, quietly closing the door in his wake. They walked to the kitchen in silence, Julie trying to figure out what the hell was happening in her head and heart the entire time.

The instant Luke entered the kitchen it was like she was seeing a completely different side of him. He was quick and sure with all of his movements, taking only a few minutes to find everything he needed without even asking her for guidance. The muscles of his forearm rippled as he whisked the eggs together, the flick of his wrist just as mesmerizing now as when he played guitar. His confidence on stage had always been awe-inspiring, the way he moved and the energy he gave off undeniably cool and sure, never an ounce of doubt that he was anything other than amazing. It was a way for him to prove he was the best of the best, show that he had fully earned the title of “Rockstar”.

This moment in her sunny kitchen showed a quieter confidence. Nothing flashy or showy, just Luke doing something he clearly enjoyed for no other reason than the fact that he liked it. The rock god attitude had always been surface-level hot, sure, but this kind of domestic comfortability was an entirely new level of attractive. Julie felt her mouth go dry, the tips of her ears growing warm the longer she watched him. He hummed under his breath, the sound reverberating in her soul and sending little shivers up and down her spine. It wasn’t until he was sliding a plate of steaming scrambled eggs and toast in front of her that she finally recognized the melody. Her breath caught and he met her eyes with a gentle expression.

“I told you already, it’s an incredible song.”

He grabbed his own plate and lowered himself into the chair next to hers at the bar. He immediately began shoveling eggs in his mouth. Julie took a few bites of her own food, pleasantly surprised at how good it was. Then an ugly thought took over her brain. She dropped her fork, turning to stare at Luke with a dark intensity she couldn’t control.

“Did you...did you play my mom’s song?”

She couldn’t keep the betrayal out of her voice. It echoed in the room, low and hollow, like the sound of tomb closing. Luke’s own fork fell with a clatter.

“Julie, no.”

His voice was just as desperate, filled with pain and apology.

“I swear to you, no. I wouldn’t do that. I knew what it was as soon as I found it. I couldn’t hurt you like that. I never even showed it to Reggie or Alex.”

She believed him. The look on his face, the tone of his voice, proved to her that he wasn’t lying. Then, his cheeks turned a very light pink.

“I just...sometimes...I would read it. Not around the guys.”

He was quick to add that part in there, like he was assuring her he could protect the things that were important to her. Like he was promising to protect her. She could tell he was a little uncomfortable with the revelation, but he pushed through anyway.

“Just like...at night before bed...or when I was stuck on a song and needed some inspiration.”

His eyes rose to meet hers, some tender emotion she couldn’t identify lurking in their oceanic depths.

“I meant it when I said you’re an incredible songwriter. Sometimes...”

His cheeks darkened, ears flaming red to match.

“Sometimes...it was almost like I could hear you playing it.”

The last part was said so quietly she almost missed it. She felt her face go slack. Who was this guy and what had he done with the normal, cocky Lucas Patterson? The gentleness of his words, the way his eyes were drilling into hers like he could see all the way down to the depths of her soul, had her blinking against the sudden emotion clogging her throat.

“Last night was the first time I ever played it.”

The confession sprung from her lips without second thought. She had to do something, anything to break whatever tension seemed to be thickening between them with each passing second. Luke tilted his head, another warm smile gracing his lips.

“You were even more amazing than I could have ever dreamed. You’re like a human wrecking ball, Julie. It’s insane how talented you are.”

So much for breaking the tension. Julie sucked in a breath, her heart stuttering in her chest. It was only then that she realized how close their bodies had become, each one leaning farther into the other as their conversation went on. There were only inches between them now, Luke’s lyrical voice curling into her ear with a delicious intimacy she couldn’t help but crave. If she got any closer to him their foreheads would touch, their nose would brush, their lips would...

And just like that she was on the ground, her backside stinging from slamming into the hardwood so abruptly. Luke blinked down at her, eyes still swimming with that damnable affection, but also tinged with confusion. In her desperate attempt to bail, she must have leaned too far back, falling off the barstool before she could even realize what would happen. She shook her head to clear the spell Luke had been spinning before looking past him to the clock on the oven.

“We should probably leave for school now unless we want to be late.”

She ignored the breathy way her voice came out, pushing herself to a standing position. Without making eye contact, she wove her way around Luke. He was like a block of ice in his chair, still poised to lean into her completely. She scooped up their half-eaten breakfasts, plopping them loudly into the sink before slipping her arms through her backpack straps. Nowhere left to hide, she turned back towards the brunette boy.

He stared at her for a long moment, the hot frustration in his gaze burning through her and making her want to squirm. For a second, she thought he was going to push it, but then his eyes closed for what felt like an eternity. When they opened again, he seemed resigned. She could detect just a hint of his previous fiery intensity, the rest of it shrouded behind an almost forlorn veil of acceptance.

“If that’s what you want.”

There was a deeper meaning to his words that Julie wasn’t prepared for. Her breathing faltered, the silence between them heavy with the things he was leaving unsaid. She almost gave in. Almost asked him just what, exactly, he wanted right now. But she didn’t need to ask him because she could read it plain on his face. It terrified her. And Julie had become an expert at avoiding things that scared her in this past year. So, instead, she gave him a tight nod and zipped out the front door to wait for him outside.

In the clear sunshine of another beautiful LA day, she was finally able to breathe again. Out here, away from the thick tension of the kitchen, it was easier to tell herself Luke was just being nice. Easier to pretend their little moment inside was just some friendly banter. Easier to ignore the implications of Luke’s serious words and caring tone. She gulped in deep breaths, willing her head and heart to cool down. She heard the click of the door latching shut behind her, turned to see Luke standing there, a small pout on his lips, face entirely unrepentant. Good lord she was in trouble.Then a realization hit. She clung to it, desperately hoping it would get them back on a more neutral page, pull them out of whatever had been simmering between them all morning.

“Where’s your car? I know you didn’t drive over here last night.”

Luke’s face changed immediately, chagrin taking over every feature. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he shoved his hands in the front of his jeans.

“I uh...I only live a few houses away from you...”

Now it was Julie’s turn to gape like a fish. Luke Patterson was her neighbor? Since when?

“My parents...we moved to the neighborhood a couple years ago. I...uhm well...”

His hand rose again to scratch at his neck, and she had never wanted to grab at him more than in this moment. That movement was slowly beginning to drive her crazy. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and blurted it out in one garbled sentence.

“Iusedtohidearoundthecornerandlistentoyouandyourmomplayinthestudiopleasedon’thateme.”

Julie was so stunned she nearly tumbled off the top step as she staggered backwards. Only Luke’s quick reflexes saved her from falling flat on her back for the second time that morning. His eyes darted around her face, clearly trying to figure out if she was about to lose it on him or not. Julie struggled to process the info dump she had gotten from Luke in the last couple of days. All of her preconceived notions were slowly being proven wrong and she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with that. Life was easier when Luke was just another selfish, swaggering upperclassman. How long had she been in his orbit? Years it sounded like. The realization was staggering.

“You...you listened to us play? Why?”

Luke still had his hands wrapped around her wrists. Julie couldn’t find it in her to break the connection. Her voice came out more broken than she intended, memories of sunlit days singing with her mom invading her mind. Luke remembered those days too?

“Haven’t you been listening?”

His voice was strained, his eyes boring into hers like he was trying to telepathically force her to understand. His fingers flexed against her skin, the movement causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in her stomach.

“You’re a star, Julie Molina. I couldn’t help getting sucked into your orbit.”

Julie felt her eyelids flutter, her chest squeezing like it was going to burst from the rapid inhale/exhale she couldn’t seem to calm. He said her name like a prayer, his lips turning it into something holy and sacred. She was drowning in Luke’s gaze, a riot of emotions swirling around in her brain. Somehow, because he was Luke and apparently he knew her better than she ever expected him to, he could tell that his declaration had gone a little too far. Easing back, he released his hold and rocked away from her just a bit to give her the space she so desperately needed. His eyes were still impossibly soft, bordering on adoration as he watched her come to terms with his bold announcement. Finally, once Julie was pretty sure she had come back down to Earth, he jogged down the front steps.

“We can still drive if you want to, but I think it’s a pretty nice morning for a walk if you’re up for it.”

“Okay.”

It felt like the smallest possible acceptance she could offer him, but the way Luke lit up in response made her want to melt. Head still swimming, she made her way down the steps on shaky baby deer legs. Luke didn’t push, just fell in step with her as easy as pie. Every once in a while, his fingers would brush against her hand, and it took every scrap of will power to keep herself from just reaching out and linking their hands together.

They passed a house bursting with flowers out front. Julie’s eyes caught on an explosion of bright red in the corner of the yard. Dahlias. Her mother’s favorite. It felt like a sign, and another part of Julie’s soul slipped quietly back into place. The next time Luke’s hand knocked against hers she shyly allowed their fingers to tangle. She didn’t need to look to see the smile break out on his face. She could feel the warmth of it filling the air around her like her own personal sun. He squeezed just once. Just enough to acknowledge the move for what it was. She didn’t let go until the school appeared in the distance.

[otonymous]

Moving Violation (MLQC Shaw - NSFW)

Description: Public transportation gets a lot more exciting when a gorgeous stranger decides to give you a hand 😉 Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  SPOILER for chapter 17-1 only.  Trigger warning(s): public fingering Word Count: 1698 words (~8 mins of shameless smut) AO3: read here Author’s Notes:   This story contains SPOILERS for chapter 17-1 ONLY.  If you don’t want to be spoiled at all, now would be a good time to stop reading 😆

As soon as this guy made an appearance in the game, you know I had to write for him.  Although I don’t even know his name, I DO know he’s hot AF LOL.  The events in this story are based on chapter 17-1; I just added my own smutty take on things.  Please note the potential trigger warning in the tags above, and happy reading! 🥰

Nb) Lyrics taken from Green Day's "Holiday" are marked with an asterisk. (song written by Michael Pritchard / Frank Wright / Billie Joe Armstrong. © Warner Chappell Music, Inc)

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

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Clang.

The metal links of a wallet chain hit the steel trim of the seat beside yours, the sound so jarring it immediately pulled you from your thoughts.  Turning your gaze from the window, your senses are assailed:  

Hair that fell in devil-may-care directions over features all at once delicate and masculine — lavender grey, like the colour of a gathering storm, accentuated with silver like streaks of lightning blazing across an unsettled sky.

Metal studs embellishing a black leather jacket brushing against your arm, cool and sharp even through the sleeve of your cardigan, making you press closer to the side of the bus on instinct.

A hint of cinnamon, spicy and sweet each time the bubble in his mouth deflated with an audible pop, only to reemerge after a few subtle movements of a defined jaw and the push of his tongue through a thin, pink membrane.

And although the vehicle lurched forward each time the lead-footed driver stepped on the gas, the young man managed to keep his skateboard balanced against the back of the seat in front, the underside of its deck covered in a dizzying array of colourful but faded decals.  Worn and treasured, like the mp4 player he suddenly produced from the pocket of his jacket, elegantly long digits in fingerless leather gloves fiddling with dials whose details had rubbed off long ago.

The stranger leans back in his seat, long legs spreading wide until one brushes the hem of your skirt…waves of heat emanating from the skin of his knee beneath ripped denim to send tingles up the bare flesh of your thigh.

Brows furrowed, you stare sharply in his direction from the corner of your eye.  You had done your best to ignore that twinge of annoyance when he first chose to sit next to you on an otherwise empty bus.  Brushed it off when it grew with the knock of his shoulder into yours.  But the continued rubbing of his knee against your thigh — each bump of the rough ride sending it higher up your leg — was something you found unsettling.  And stimulating.

Nonplussed by your reaction to the invasion of personal space, the stranger fits buds into ears boasting several piercings each, thumb tapping the scratched up player until all you could hear was the tinny refrain of Green Day rocking at insanely high volume over his headphones:

“I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies This is the dawning of the rest of our lives On holiday…”*

Suddenly, perfect eyebrows arch over amber eyes that train on yours to transform your annoyance into surprise.  He leisurely looks you up and down, tongue sweeping over the edges of white teeth as he does…slow, as if considering some complicated calculation.  Then, as the corners of his lips pull up into a devastatingly handsome smirk, you are similarly devastated to find yourself incredibly turned on by a man you knew absolutely nothing about.  

Removing an earbud, the beautiful stranger slides up even closer to whisper in your ear, “Wanna listen?”

His voice is deep and playful, the heat of his breath electric on your skin and charged with an eroticism that effectively shuts down any protests you may have had.  So you let him carefully position the bud in your ear, feeling goosebumps bloom wherever he touched, guitar riffs accompanying fingertips that drag from your lobe to your neck, traversing your shoulder and down your arm…before finally coming to rest on the top of your thigh.

Nipples hardening beneath the lace cups of your bra, you tense at the embarrassing possibility of your arousal being on full display through the thin front of your blouse.  He slides his arm around your shoulder in response, pulling you flush against his side as the undertones of that husky voice switch from teasing to a soothing coo:

“Baby, relax.  Just focus on the music, yeah?”

The hand on your leg begins to move, inching up your skirt, fingers tracing circles as they caress the skin of your inner thigh — so sensitive he grinned to watch you twitch at the sensation of his nails grazing flesh as he sought the moist warmth in the space between.

Soft lips smooth across the line of your jaw, the stranger's voice dropping even lower, as if revealing some illicit secret: “Focus on how good my fingers will make you feel.”

That beautiful face nuzzles into the nape of your neck, and you feel his chest expand against your arm when he breathes in deep — his exhalation masking the gasp you failed to contain when the tip of his finger made its first brush across your clit, swollen beneath a layer of silk.

Already impossibly hot, you glance at your surroundings once more to ensure you were the only two passengers on the bus during the early morning commute.  You wondered if the driver heard your shuddering pants as the young man played with your pussy over your panties, wondered if he could smell the heady musk of arousal that was surely suffusing the immediate vicinity.

Wondered if he noticed the spread of your legs from that distance in the rear view mirror, growing wider in response to the lust that glazed over amber eyes to hold you captive.

Suddenly, the stranger retracts his large hand, its absence leaving the space between your legs cool and wanting.  Past the point of caring about masking your desperation, you implore the stranger with a look that dripped with need.  He smirks, eyes crinkling with mischief as he winks at you before proceeding to lick his digits — pink tongue swirling about the index…middle…then ring finger in excruciatingly slow turn.

To your relief, he brings his hand down once more.  But this time, your panties are roughly pulled aside before you feel those spit-moistened fingers sliding along your folds and glancing at your clit…exploring bare flesh.  At first contact, you hear the breath hitch in his throat.  Hear the thick arousal even he couldn’t hide behind teasing banter when he says, “Looks like I didn’t need to lube up my fingers after all.  Guess this excites you more than you let on.”

You couldn’t even argue, nor did you want to.  Lips parting as shaky lungs drew in much needed air, your head falls back, the black cord of your shared headphones the only thing grounding you to reality when it pulls taut against your movement.  A reminder that although his fingers sent you to the heights of ecstasy with the way they plunged in and out of your pussy — almost frictionless with how turned-on you were — you still had your skirt bunched up and legs spread wide on a public bus in broad daylight, a complete stranger’s talented fingers fucking you so hard and fast your thighs trembled and your underwear became a soaking mess, absorbing slick moisture that dripped in copious amounts.

“This is the dawning of the rest of our lives...”*

The music crescendoed just as the tension in your body swelled to breaking point, the thumb rubbing circles about your clit relentless like the fingers diving deep to push you over the edge of desire.

All of a sudden, the bus lurches as the driver slams on the brakes.  Momentum continuing to drive your body forward like a rag doll, the muscular arm around you tenses to keep you from smashing face first into the seat in front.  But the driver’s careless technique had another unintended consequence: the young man’s fingers drove even deeper inside you at just the right angle to make you fall apart completely.  Spasming within his embrace, you thought nothing of burying your face into his chest to bite at his collarbone through his shirt, trying to muffle your screams.

“Sorry about that!  Everyone ok back there?"  Still descending from a higher plane of bliss, the driver’s voice seems so far removed.

“Yeah man, just take it easy next time," the stranger shouts back, fingers leaving a wet trail along the inside of your thigh as he finally pulls out from your trembling body.

He makes a show of examining his fingers, slick under the warm rays of sunlight filtering in through the window behind you.  But nothing compared to the heat in your cheeks when he traced his lips with the tip of his index, the shiny coat of arousal accentuating pink flesh before his tongue swept out to savour every last drop.

And as the bus pulls up to the next stop — much more smoothly this time around — the handsome stranger leans in close, removing the headphone from your ear before he says,

“Sweet, just the way I like it.  Be seein’ you around."

Readjusting his earbuds, he tucks his skateboard under one arm, amber eye winking at you beneath lavender grey strands one last time before he exits, the sound of his skateboard hitting the pavement the last thing you hear before the pneumatic doors shut and you slump back in your seat.

You didn’t even know his name.

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Guess what?  We STILL don’t know his name in the English server LOL!  As always, thanks for reading and check out more of my work here! 📚