#dark smoky background

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Ethereal Woman in Surreal Canadian Landscape' 5735 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

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[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Million Dollar Man"

Ok yall..... I know I said it was gonna be another chapter of "I bet on losing dogs" but @lilithquillete sent in an ask about Reader interacting with Harvey Dent and I couldn't help myself. This is the same AU as Older, and it's the prologue. Sorry if they dont make sense together butttt I couldn't stop myself, Hope yall like it!!!!

The Pink Pony Club was Gotham’s underbelly, dark, seedy, and full of people who either wanted to forget their past or embrace it. Jazz played faintly in the background, a vocalist crooning somewhere in the distance, as smoky air curled up toward the dimly lit ceiling. The dim lighting and murmur of conversation created a sense of anonymity. For you, this was heaven.

A place where you got on stage and no one knew you, your first taste of freedom outside your family. Here, you weren't Bruce Wayne's least favorite child nor were you the failed Batgirl or useless sister, here you were just you.

Your voice enchanted people and on stage in your heels, you were unstoppable.

Only a couple nights ago, you packed your things and walked out of Wayne Manor, as if the years of being part of that family never existed. It wasn’t just that Bruce and the others had been ignoring her for Tiffany all these years; it was the cruel realization that you was never important to them. Not like they were to each other.

You tried. You had given them everything. But Tiffany’s presence had overshadowed you since she came into the manor on your 14th birthday. It was as if you'd been erased, the little attention you got diverted and multiplied to someone who was more useful, more important.

You couldn’t even get a text from Duke anymore, let alone a casual chat with Dick or Tim. Forget about Damian or Jason, or any of the girls really.

So, you left. And now, you found yourself at the Pink Pony Club, a dive bar with no judgments, just an escape.

The club was packed tonight, filled with people who seemed to have their own agendas and distractions. You took a seat at the bar, watching the crowd. It was your first day off and you had nowhere else to go.

Tonight, you weren't singing, didn't want to be noticed, but Gotham had a way of drawing attention to its wounded.

You weren't sure what you were doing anymore. This was't you. You were never a party girl, you would never be caught dead in a place like this. Bruce would kill you, if he could look away from Tiffany long enough to see you here.

Maybe you were trying to spite you family. Maybe trying to drown the anger that simmered within you. Anger at the Batfamily, who had all but erased you from their lives. Anger at yourself, for allowing it to happen.

But mostly, the anger at Bruce. You had spent years trying to live up to his expectations, only to realize that Tiffany had took his love in a day.

But tonight, you weren't thinking about them. Tonight, you were here to forget.

As you sipped your drink, you noticed a familiar figure at the back of the room. Harvey Dent, the once-proud district attorney, now the infamous Two-Face, sat alone in a booth, nursing a drink. His face was partially scarred from the acid, and his expression, even now, looked like he carried the weight of Gotham's filth on his shoulders.

Selina Kyle, Cat Woman, Bruce's ex- lover who got you the job had mentioned he frequented the club. And if you were being honest, you couldn't help but be curious about him.

"Rough night, sweetheart?" a voice purred from beside you. Speak of the devil.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. You knew that voice too well. Selina Kyle. The only person who never treated you like a pawn or an afterthought. The only one who didn't care about the petty squabbles of Gotham's rich, the same Gotham she had spent most of her life trapped in. Your only friend in this god-forsaken city.

You half-turned in your chair, giving Selina a wry smile. “You have no idea.”

Selina perched herself next to you, crossing her arms, sizing up the tension on your face. "Let me guess. The Batfamily still ignoring you? Haven't even noticed you moved out? Too busy obsessing over the golden child?"

Your mouth twisted bitterly, but you said nothing, Selina always knew exactly how to get a rise out of you. Your eyes flickered toward the back of the bar again where Harvey Dent, still sat in the shadows, his burnt face half-hidden under his usual dark, grim expression.

Selina followed your gaze, the slight curve of her lips pulling into a mischievous smile. “You’re looking at him again, huh? You know, I never took you for the bad-boy type. Never thought you'd betray Superboy like that.”

"I'm not thinking of Clark tonight." You said, suddenly tense at the mention of your unrequited love.

A dark, playful smirk crossed your lips. You weren't looking for anything serious tonight. Just a distraction. And Harvey would be perfect for that.

Bruce would be pissed.

You slid off the stool and made your way toward the half-handsome man, the tension between them thickening as you approached. He looked up, his eyes scanning you for a moment before he smirked.

“Is there something I can help you with, sweetheart?” Harvey asked, his voice low and rough, the raspiness of his tone sending a jolt of heat through your chest.

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms. “Saw you sitting here all by yourself, thought maybe you could use some company.”

Harvey's lips curled into a dismissive grin, but his eyes were cold, calculating. “You think I need company?” His tone was sharp, sarcastic. “You're a little young for me, don't you think?”

You grinned, unbothered by his coldness. “A little age never hurt anyone, mind if I sit?” You asked, your voice dripping with feigned innocence as you slipped into the seat opposite Harvey. You could feel his sharp eyes on you, scanning your every movement, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he took a sip of his drink, his jaw tight.

“Sure, if you’re into wasting your time,” he said flatly, not even bothering to look up again.

Reader’s lips curled into a playful smile. “I don't think anything to do with someone like you is a waste.”

Harvey glanced up slowly, his sharp gaze scrutinizing you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes lingered on you for a beat too long, his lips tight with something unreadable. “You’re bold,” he remarked, his voice heavy with condescension.

You tilted your head, leaning against the back of the booth, watching him through half-lidded eyes, peering at him innocently through your lashes, “What, is that a problem?”

He didn’t answer immediately, taking a long sip of his drink, his eyes now trained on her lips before sliding up to meet her gaze again. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with, little girl.”

You didn’t flinch, though a hot flash of insecurity pierced through your facade. You’d had enough of people underestimating you. “Maybe, but i've always had a thing for lost causes.”

Harvey smirked, his expression a mix of arrogance and indifference. “I’m not exactly your type, kid. You want a pretty boy, go back to playing in your Batcave.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and pushing out your chest. “Did you just call me a kid?”

Harvey’s lips thinned, and you could see his eyes momentarily flicker to your chest. All men were the same.. “That’s what you are, sweetheart. You’re out of your league, go home to daddy and stop trying to play with the big boys. You don't belong here.”

You let out a low chuckle, leaning in just a little closer. This was a challenge now, he thought he was too good for you, too strong to give in, you'd show him how convincing you could be. “You think so? I’m not the one sitting in a dark corner of a bar brooding. Seems like I’m doing just fine.”

Harvey’s eyes darkened, and the tension in the air thickened. He took another sip, this time with a little more force, the sound of the glass clinking against the table ringing out. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don't really care.”

He smiled, sharp and predatory, "This won't play out in your favor. You think you're in charge here, you're not."

The words hung between you, charged with something dangerous.

For the next hour, you exchanged glances, words, and cold retorts, every time Harvey tried to shut you down, you would respond with something even more bold and charming, pulling him in. The man was harder to read than a stone wall, but you knew one thing for sure: the tension was building, the air crackling with the kind of heat that made your heart quicken.

Finally, Harvey broke, leaning forward and offering you a sardonic smile. “Alright. What’s your angle, sweetheart?”

You leaned in as well, matching his intensity, never backing down no matter how hard he tried to intimidate you. “Just here for a good time. You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine. But I think we could both use some fun. A way to let loose.”

Harvey’s jaw clenched, but the flicker of interest in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not interested. ”

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?” You shot back, your voice low, sharp, and breathy.

Harvey’s lips tightened again, the words bitter in his mouth. “Because you’re trouble, you're a mess. And trouble’s what I wanted tonight.”

The words stung, but you didn’t let it show. “Then we're on the same page.”

For a moment, his jaw tightened, his face betraying a flicker of frustration. He reached for his glass, swirling it absentmindedly before taking a long sip. Then, after a beat, he placed the glass down with a deliberate slowness, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t have time for games, little girl. Why don’t you take your flirtations somewhere else?”

But there was something in his voice—something that cracked, a faint whisper of desire beneath the tough exterior. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“I don't want much,” You replied, your voice low, leaning in slightly, your noses almost touching. “Just tonight. A distraction.”

He smirked at that. “A distraction, huh? You think you can handle me?"

The words were slow, dangerous, suggestive. The tension between them had become thick, charged with the weight of things neither of them was willing to admit.

“Nothing permanent. Just... for tonight. What happens after doesn’t matter.” You'd never fall for someone like Harvey Dent.

Harvey's lips twisted, amusement in his eyes. “What would your daddy think?”

A week ago, that would've mattered. Back when your life revolved around him and his stupid family. But now? Now, it didn't matter, nothing mattered other than getting Harvey Dent in her bed tonight.

You chuckled darkly. “I'm a big girl now Harvey, I choose who my daddy is."

His gaze sharpened, his grin widened, and you could feel him moving under the table. “Really? Do you now? Does that mean I have to prove myself?" He said his Gotham accent coming out as he swiftly slid out the booth and began walking away, only glancing back at you once in a silent invitation.

The night bled into the morning as you found yourself in your bed alone, the only evidence of last night being your scattered clothes and the rumpled side of the bed that smelled of a deep, earthy cologne. Harvey, nowhere to be found, though you're sure he stayed the night.

You found a note on your nightstand with a number and a single red rose. You threw them both away.

The intensity of the night, of Harvey’s dangerous allure, his cold, hard demeanor that eventually gave way to something more primal; had left you breathless. You hadn’t exchanged any promises, but there was no mistaking the way he’d looked at you afterward. There was an intensity that had simmered between the two of you, a powerful connection of mutual darkness.

Later that day, as you met up with Selina to apologize for ditching her last night, you couldn't help but notice the sly smile on Selina's face.

"So, how was it? Life altering? Mind numbing?" Selina asked innocently, but her voice had a knowing tone.

“Fun,” you replied smirking, “Just what I needed. No strings attached.”

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I heard Harvey’s been looking for you. Asking around. Seems like you’ve left an impression on him. He's not the type to give up.”

Your chest tightened, but you pushed the feeling down. “He was just a distraction. That’s all. i just needed to forget Clark for the night.”

Selina knew of your childhood crush, she was the first you told. You approached her as an awkward, chubby 13 year old, asking how to make Superman your boyfriend.

Selina smirked, clearly unconvinced. “You tell yourself that. But I think Harvey’s not done with you just yet.”

You shrugged, "I'm done with him."

Selina faltered, her mischief giving way to concern, "I'm serious. You need to be more careful, men like that, men like Harvey Dent, they don't take kindly to being ignored."

As the days passed, you felt the weight of your choices, of the things you’d told yourself you could leave behind. And yet, you couldn't help but feel the pull of Harvey’s gaze every time you closed your eyes and went home with a different guy.

You were still angry at the Batfamily, still haunted by the echoes of Tiffany’s presence, but now there was something else. Something dangerous, something that wasn’t just about anger anymore.

A few nights had passed since the night with Harvey. You found yourself with a strange feeling, lingering like smoke on your skin. Like someone was watching you, following you.

It started with small things, when you sang at the club, you could feel his eyes on you. When you flirted with customers and they didn't look you in the eye anymore. When even your charms and seduction couldn't pull anyone in, Harvey was trying to put you in a dry spell. Punish you for ignoring him.

A week after the night, you came home from the club to your apartment exhausted and what you saw shocked you. Dozens of red roses were in your living room and kitchen, with notes and pictures attached to each boquet. Everyday you ignored him, your apartment would be flooded with red roses, by the 4th day you were sure there were no more red roses in Gotham. You would read the notes, each day a different one, more vague and kind of threatening.

“I see you every night, whether you want me to or not. - H”

“You think I’m going to give up? Not when I’m this close. - H.”

“You can’t hide from me. I’ll always find you. - H.”

You rolls your eyes, but can’t stop the flicker of something—danger, excitement, anticipation—from flashing through you. The usual defiance is still there, but now it has a slight edge. It’s hard not to feel compelled by his power, and you pick up a card that has his number on it, and you call.

Two months. Thats how long you've been something to Harvey Dent.

Since that night you called him, you've seen Harvey Dent everyday for two months. You either saw him at the club, he never missed out on watching you sing, or at your apartment, or he'd wisk you away for a candle light dinner. The only exception of his constant attention was the two weeks you were sick, and even then he called you and sent you flowers.

Thats why when he started getting distant it hurt, you were in love with him.

Like a fool, you fell for Harvey "Two-Face" Dent.

You wrote songs for him, stayed up on the phone talking to him, baked him cookies and cakes, you didn't care about his scars or his mood swings, you put up with his sometimes hurtful comments because you could feel his love for you.

It was in the little things. Little displays of affection like knowing how you liked your coffee, your favorite fruit, how he would play your favorite movie whenever you were down and watch stupid rom-coms all night, without complaint. How he would laugh at all your stupid jokes and help you with the dishes.

Everything changed when Selina dropped a bombshell. You were just finishing your shift at the Pink Pony when Selina came up to you, leaning against the bar, a rare seriousness in her voice.

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to have to tell you this” Selina said, looking at you with eyes full of love and concern. “But I think you need to know . You’re not the only one Harvey’s been after.”

You froze, heart dropping to your feet. “What are you talking about?” You asked, chuckling at the unfunny joke, Harvey would never. He loves you.

Selina’s gaze shifted toward the back of the club, where Tiffany fucking Wayne, was standing at the bar with Harvey. The way she leaned into him, the flirtatious, familiar touch on his arm, made your heart drop. That was all the proof you needed.

“When you lost your voice last month, Tiffany came here every night, working him over. She’s been coming in, feeling him, and leaving with him. She’s been playing him like a violin. And he's been two-timing you.”

Your stomach twisted. Tiffany. Your “sister”, the girl who always took everything from you, the girl who you cried to him about, who you told him stole everything from you, stole him too. The image of Tiffany and Harvey together was enough to break something inside you.

Your voice cracked. “I... he... he was mine.”

Selina raised an eyebrow, sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry. You know Harvey’s not the only one she’s after. She’s always tried to steal everything from you. She’s always been good at that.”

It hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Tiffany had taken Harvey, too. she wasn’t stealing brothers or sisters from you; she was taking the one place where you had ever felt wanted.

He loved you, at some point, you were sure. But could love be so easily swayed?

Before she came and stole him like she stole everything else in your life, Harvey Dent loved you

In the two weeks you were sick, Tiffany Maverick stole the one man who loved you.

The next night at the club, the weight of Selina’s words followed you like a shadow. You stepped onto the stage, singing as best as you could, but the usual thrill was gone. Tiffany was there again, standing too close to Harvey. Every laugh they shared, every touch, was like a knife to your chest.

You couldn’t help but notice how Harvey had changed. The way he looked at you now felt different—distant, colder. There was no longer that spark of attraction, just the lingering sense that something had shifted. That someone else had taken hyourplace.

Tiffany had won. Again.

You finished your set and stepped off the stage, throat tight. You caught Harvey’s eye as he turned toward you, but there was no warmth or love in his gaze, like there was two weeks ago, only disappointment. He was looking at you like you were just another face in the crowd.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t stay. It wasn’t just the loss of Harvey—it was the realization that Tiffany had taken your spot in their world.

Her betrayal felt too familiar, like an old wound that never healed. It wasn't enough for her to have your family, she wanted everything.

That night you quit the club and broke your lease to your apartment. You wouldn't let Tiffany or Two Face run you out of Gotham, out of your city, but you couldn't stay where you and him shared all your memories.

You would forget about him. You would never mention Harvey Dent again, you would never even think of him again. Nor would you acknowledge that he was the first man that loved you. Harvey Dent did not exist anymore.

[dmitriene]

john price that deals with constant dark urges inside his head everytime he thinks about you, looks at you, eyes darkening and body buzzing and itching with the urge to see you at his feet, at his disposal, no matter that you already belong to him.

he wants you between his muscular thighs, your legs at either side of his foot, humping at his old combat boots that he found hidden deep in shoe rack, your puffy and slick with drool lips stretched around the full girth of his fat cock.

your mound glides right against the the toe of his boot, bumping against your clit rapidly, your drenched panties leaving a shiny wet path, slick folds parting with john's foot tapping up just slightly, making you mewl around the thickness of his cock buried deep in your throat.

it makes his heavy hand at the back of your head, tangled in the locks of your hair, tighten their hold and the head of his cock throb and glide past your gag reflex, your eyes fluttering with brimming tears.

nose in john's pubic hair, thick mush heavy at your senses with your cunt fluttering and pulsing, still sopping wet all over his boot without faltering the movements of your hips, tongue moving heavily, licking at the underside of his veiny, sopping length, mouth watering at the taste of his precum.

he mouths some praises, the one that barely stores at the back of your mind against the background of his stiffled, smoky groans and wet sounds of both your mouth and cunt, stuffed full.

you don't even notice how john's hand leaves your hair to grasp at your neck, tightening his hold just slightly, imagining the way you would look with a collar there, bolds letters of — “property of captain john price„ engraved possessively.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴.

[rezwrites]

𝓝𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓮 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓼

Vampire!Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, consensual non-consent, blood, stalking, knife play/knife-fucking, pervy!rio, choking/breathplay, double-ended strap, classic vampire cliches

a/n: happy halloween!

Stepping into the library, you're greeted by the soft creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet drowned out by the mellow music that plays in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. Ancient bookshelves tower towards the lofty ceiling, dust particles dancing in the slivers of sunlight that penetrate the stained glass.

You make your way to the cafe ordering your usual coffee, the strong aroma wafting through the air, mingling with the crisp scent of old books.

Scaling the winding staircase, you delve deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of books and tomes, until happening upon your favorite cozy, nook by the window that overlooks the town square. Settling in, cautious not to spill your drink, you surround yourself with the new murder-mystery series you’re ecstatic about. The hours slip by unnoticed as you’re immersed in the numinous atmosphere, unaware to the pair of eyes that occasionally lingered on you.

“Don’t you have any friends to hang out with?” Rio’s smoky voice startled you out of your trance, questioning orbs probing you. She seemingly appeared out of nowhere, wavy, auburn hair fell over her tweed jacket.

“You always ask that, Rio. The answer never changes. I just enjoy reading.” You placed your bookmarked in between the pages, closing your book.

Rio pulls up a chair at the small table, “I know. It’s just that you’re here all the time. Always staying late.”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows at her, ”Well, what about you? You don’t ever seem to take off or anything. Besides, don’t you have other customers to bother?”

“Everyone’s gone home.” she motions to the window behind you. Turning to see the sun long gone, the near full moon high in the sky casting its brilliant glow unto the earth. Looking back at your phone you notice it’s almost 8’oclock. Slipping your books into your bag you gave Rio a sympathetic smile, truly feeling bad for losing track of time and hindering her from closing the library.

You gazed at her as she acts uncharacteristically nervous, shifting from foot to foot. Before you could ask what’s wrong Rio blurted out, “Can I walk you home tonight?”

She hates knowing the fact that you’d rather walk home alone at night than take the bus, you had mentioned something about carbon footprint. While she admires your dedication she anguishes over the idea of harm coming your way. Since you’re always the last one to leave, she closes the library as quickly as possible to watch and make sure you get home safely.

You nodded smiling, grateful for the offer. The library was normally quiet, of course, but as Rio led you through the bookshelves it has a different more eerie, quietness to it. You just chalked it up to the fact that it’s nighttime outside. You waited by the front desk while Rio finished up the rest of her duties, returning to you surprisingly quickly, you noted. Watching the lights go out one by one you clutched your tote bag, the darkness of the library was slightly unpleasant. Before any panic could stir Rio called you over to the front door so she could lock up.

The cool air feels crisp and refreshing against your skin as you both stepped outside. Small puffs of breath flowing into the night each time you exhale. The twinkling stars in the sky seem to shimmer and dance. The night is calm and peaceful, enveloping you in a sense of tranquility. The faint rustling of leaves in the wind carrying the scent of petrichor. The streetlights lit your way as you traverse the suburban roads.

“What book are you on now?” She asked, hands in her pockets as she walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

“That new murder-mystery series I’ve been telling you about! The bookstore across town had it out just in time for Halloween, I’m already on the second book.” Rio just chuckled at your enthusiastic ramblings, you’ve been raving about this series since late-May.

Rio doesn’t understand why you like Halloween so much. In all her time alive and the countless Halloweens that have passed her she has never grasped it. She just doesn’t understand Halloween, much like how she doesn’t understand why she’s so drawn to you. You were just a regular customer in the beginning, and even though you both built an acquaintance you’re still just a regular person. She tells herself it’s because you’re an easy meal but if you’re such an easy meal then why hasn’t she fed on you yet?

“So, why a librarian?” You inquired

“Quite, mundane. Books make decent weapons.” She laughed before quieting again, “Honestly, books provide a solace no one else can.”

“I get that.” You nodded along, “That’s really why I’m hidden away in the corner all day. My friends all moved to the city a few months ago and even though I just settled into my new job, I still have time on my hands.”

Rio listened intently, holding your front gate open, “Books are great way to lose yourself for a while.”

“Exactly!” You both shared a laugh, coming to a stop at the bottom of your porch steps, “Thanks for walking me home.”

“It’s not a problem.” You bid her a goodnight, fiddling with your keychain trying find your house key. Before you could enter your home she calls out, ”Do you want to go on a date?”

Spinning on your heel, shock evident on your face. Rio’s eyes widened at your shocked expression, clearing her throat, “I mean I might as well close for Halloween. We could watch horror movies all night. What better way to take a break, right?”

“I can make us dinner!” You instantly piped up, so many recipes already swimming in your mind, “it’s the least I could do walking me home.”

“Nothing with garlic, please.” She requests, playing coy. Faking an embarrassed chuckle, “I’m actually allergic.”

Bidding an each other a final goodnight, Rio watches you disappear inside your home. Hearing the click of the lock Rio checks her surroundings, before dipping around the back of your house. The lights in your bedroom already on by the time she crouches in your bushes. Peering through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window Rio watches you undress, noting every curve, dip, and mark on your body. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of mapping your body, it’s her favorite thing since developing this routine over the last month. She knows it’s morally wrong, but when she sees your angelic body she doesn’t dare stop herself from indulging in fantasies.

As you step into the shower Rio’s mind wanders to the thought of her hands roaming your warm body. Images of you shaking in bliss underneath her, arousal clear in your blood as she tastes you dance in her mind. Rio grunts lowly when you emerge from the bathroom instantly turning everything off and crawling into bed, upset she isn’t able to gaze at you a little longer. Rio makes her way home after listening to your breathing slow, confirming you fell asleep.

—

Buzzing with excitement when Thursday finally rolls around, you don’t hesitate to log off of work the second the clock hits four. After queuing up the movies for tonight you dash into the kitchen to get started on dinner and desert.

Rio stands in your walkway, staring at the fake cobwebs hanging from the porch banisters. After knocking she counts the fake spiders in your door wreath as she waits for you to answer the door.

“Hey!” You open the door with a cheerful smile on your face, “come in, come in.”

“All deck out for Halloween I see.” She closes the door behind her taking in all the decorations around your house. Little skeleton animals, pumpkin, and witch decor littered every inch of your living space, “My god, it’s like Halloween threw up in here.”

“I made bloody brownie bites for dessert!” Rio rounded the corner into the kitchen with her eyebrow turned up. Setting the brownies on the rack you turned to her, “Brownies with a little cherry filling. I also found a lasagna recipe that doesn’t have garlic in it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Rio walked closer to you, the rich smell of tomato sauce and cheese filling the kitchen.

“No. You’re my guest, just sit and relax.” Pulling a chair at the table gesturing her to sit. Setting two glasses of water on the table.

"Are you really wearing plastic fangs right now? They look so realistic!” Taking in her dark makeup noticing the sharp canine teeth poking out.

She took in a sharp breath, holding a hand to her chest in offense. "These are my real teeth! This is just the one time a year nobody freaks out about them!”

You laugh, “Sure, sure.” Fixing two plates you place one in front of her, sitting down. A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke up again, “So do you sleep in a coffin or?”

“No. Ugh, those stupid movies never get vampires right!” She breathed out exasperated. She takes a sip of her water, “Call me crazy but I actually live above the library. There were a few rooms on the third floor, so I decided to renovate them as a living space.”

Cackling you held your stomach as it starts to cramp, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you living at the library. Your commitment to the vampire character is convincing.” Taking a deep breath you wiped a tear from your eye.

“Dinner was delicious.” Rio complemented, handing you her plate, “How about we skip the movies for right now.”

“What did you want to do instead?” You placed the dishes in the soapy water, grabbing a towel to dry your hands.

“Let’s go for a walk. We can come back and finish the night with the movies.” Rio suggested, pushing her chair back in the table. Agreeing, you grabbed a light jacket before heading out.

—

The streets were alive with costumed children and their parents darting from house to house, colorful outfits glowing in the moonlight. The air was filled with the laughter and excited chatter of eager trick or treaters, blending with the rustle of leaves under their feet. The street lights were off letting the glow of Jack-o'-lanterns illuminating the street, casting eerie shadows on the houses and adding a touch of mystery to the atmosphere. The feeling of anticipation hung in the air.

“I’m sure the werewolves are having fun.” Rio stated, gawking at the large full moon.

“What?” You casted a pointed look at her, “There’s no such thing.”

“You really don’t believe in them? Just werewolves or all monsters?” Her face contorts with confusion. She’s not sure why she’s displeased. The fact that you don’t believe in the supernatural despite all your love for Halloween, and folklore upsets her.

“Like ghosts, spirits, stuff like that yeah, but vampires, werewolves, that’s where it gets tough.” you notice the streets getting quieter the longer you two walked. Rio perked up once you neared the graveyard. Running ahead she pushed open the grand metal gate, creaking as it gave way.

“Why in the world would we go in there?” You freeze on the sidewalk, goosebumps breaking out all over.

“Because it’s spooky,” she teased, bringing her hands up making them into claws. Cackling she turned, already walking onto the grounds. Huffing you followed after her eyes downcast, making sure not to trip over any tree roots protruding from the ground. A knot of dread slowly twisting in your stomach as you traversed the rows of tombstones. Rio gasps turning back towards you, “I hope no zombies wake up while we’re here.”

“That’s not funny.” you admonished, pressing a hand to your chest, attempting to soothe your racing heart. Glancing around, wide eyes darting all over, you hear Rio behind you, “Let’s play hide and seek.”

“What! no.” Turning to find yourself all alone, Rio nowhere in sight. How did she even disappear so quickly and quietly? It suddenly dawned on you how much silence there was, save for the crickets and occasional owl hoots. Shouting her name you searched around for her, quietly apologizing to each headstone you passed. Each passing second fear and anxiety welled up in your chest.

Frantically combing every inch of the graveyard, tears welled in your eyes. Coming to halt you let the tears fall, gathering your scattered thoughts. Fear turning to anger when you heard Rio’s laughter. Glancing up you spot her hanging upside down from a tree branch, your fists balling realizing that she just watched you run around the graveyard like a crazy person. Jaw clenching, you yelled at her, “Get down here, Rio! Stop kidding around!”

Rio stopped laughing, her face deadpanned. Dropping to the ground Rio stared you down, not uttering word as she advanced. Your blood froze when Rio’s eyes turned red, lips curling into a sinister smile, baring sharp fangs. Frozen in place, captivated by her hypnotic gaze. Time seems to slow as Rio leans in, breath brushing against your earlobe, “Your turn to hide.”

Immediately turning tail, you bolted out of the graveyard, your blood-curdling screams filling the air. Your breaths heave, heart pounding against your ribcage as adrenaline courses through your veins. Feet hitting the ground as fast as your body could take you, not caring how people looked at you as you ran past them, you just needed to get home.

Rio watched you run away, laughing to herself as she started the long way to your home. Now that you’ve invited her in your home she can come and go as she pleases. By the time she reached your backyard she was surprised you hadn’t made it home yet. Shimmying a library card under your window, she slides it open. Climbing into your bedroom, she heard the lock of your doors clicking. Cautiously closing your window she slipped behind your door, lying in wait.

Checking to be sure all the windows and doors were locked, drawing all curtains you made your way to your bedroom. Turning your on the bedroom light, you felt the cold steel of a blade on your neck. Rio grabbed you tighter, pressed the blade closer to your throat, her singsong voice floating through your ear, ”I found you.”

The blade of her dagger dangerously glinting in the light, swiftly slashing through your shirt. Peeling off your bra, Rio held you down on the bed. Hand on the middle of your back, wrestling off your pants. Hastily ridding herself of her own clothes Rio was thankful she’d forwent undergarments tonight. Every swing of her strap causing the end inside of her to press against her walls, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.

Flipping you on your back Rio caught both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. Trailing the knife down your neck and across your collarbones, she stops the knife nicking the skin above your breast. Rio made a series of rushed, small cuts down your torso, the sweet sting of each one increasing the wetness between your thighs.

Rio fixated on blood bubbling up to the surface of your skin. Moaning each time she dipped down, warm tongue lapping at the fresh wounds. Rio’s eyes lit up with enamor as she licked your blood from her lips.

She dragged your panties up pinching your clit, jerking your hips towards her. The pulse in your clit growing stronger as she presses the blunt side of her blade on your bundle of nerves.

“Look at this mess. It’d be too easy to just-” voice trailed off as she gathers your slick on the hilt of her dagger. Head falling back as Rio lines the handle to your entrance. A pleased hum passes your lips as the icy steel stretches you out.

You shiver under Rio’s predatory gaze, her hand moving to cover your neck, lightly squeezing the sides. Head feeling light and fuzzy as she thrusts the hilt inside you, the curve of the handle passing over that soft, spongy spot perfectly. She can feel your pulse fluctuating under her fingertips as she tests the pressure around your throat.

Yelping at the sudden emptiness in your core, you squeaked watching her bury her dagger into your headboard. “Absolutely soaked,” she husked out spreading your juices on her shaft. Holding your panties to the side she inched into you, both of you moaning in unison. Sharply inhaling when Rio sped up, deft fingers squeezing your neck again.

It’s such a power trip she thinks, gazing down on you. Your life is in her hands, but your face shows pure blissed-out pleasure. Releasing her hold on you she uses her thumb to push your head aside. Teeth scraping against your earlobe, “Depraved slut.”

Her hips thrusted at a near inhuman speed, nails digging into her wrists as her gripped tightened. Pussy clenching around Rio’s cock, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the thought of bruises forming on your throat. She swallows your moans, sneaking her other hand between your bodies, thumbing your clit. Each hard thrust sending electrifying, shockwaves through you, heels digging into her back. The squelching sound of her cock pounding you fills the room, mixing with the filthy moans you’re both emitting.

White spots blotted the edges of your vision, warmth rolling over you in waves. Shrieking, a sharp pain radiating as her teeth pierce your skin. Hearing her sucking on your neck realization hits you like a ton of bricks that Rio wasn’t masquerading as a supernatural creature for the night. Dragging your nails across her back leaving red trails in their wake, a loud moan escaping her. Rio latched on tighter, tasting your delicious blood as you convulse in her arms.

She doesn’t want to let go, wanting to stay in this moment for the rest of her eternity getting drunk off your taste. You weakly try to push her off as she licks at the hot liquid trickling down your neck.

Sucking in a deep breath when she relaxed the hand on your neck, her face remaining buried in your neck. Rio stilled inside you, collapsing on you. Shifting around to get comfortable, feeling the sheets soaked through beneath you. Rio found the way your heartbeat gradually slowed to normal rhythm calming, reveling in the way it grounded her. She felt your chest rise before you spoke up, “I know we talked about the- the sex and everything, but you’re actually a-”

“I tried telling you before.” Rio interjects, voice unusually small.

“I thought you were kidding! I thought you were alluding to your Halloween costume and was just super committed! You’re an actual-,” facepalming yourself, “Oh my god. Am I going to become a vampire?”

“No.” Rio rolled off you as you shot up, eyes bulging as you look at her. She figured you’d be screaming more, freaking out. You opened your mouth to ask another question but she beat you to it, “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you looked away from her, fingers reaching up to feel the puncture wounds she left. Watching you flinch, she propped herself on her elbows, “…Are you alright?” Rio felt more vulnerable with each passing second of thick silence, mentally trying shove herself in a grave. Boring holes in the back of your head, awaiting any form of reaction from you.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, too quick for you to grasp and focus on one. Despite Rio being a vampire she still felt like a haven. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is. Exhilaration, that a creature that’s portrayed as this evil being can deliver you such a cathartic experience. Fear, shame, embarrassment, feelings of the like surrounding the erotic fantasies you have, gone with Rio around. The ache in your neck and core solidified one thing: you wanted this again. The thrill of the chase as you ran home, arousal already forming knowing what awaited you the second you locked your doors. Eventually you straightened up, turning back towards her, an excited grin on your face, “Let’s fuck in the library next year!”

Rio’s eyes darkened, a smirk on her face, “Why wait?”

[joonberriess]

animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th

⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant

⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k

⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆

You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.

The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.

Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.

Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”

“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”

“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..

The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.

“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.

“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.

The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.

And to think that it had been just another random day..

You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.

And that’s what you intended.

+

“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.

By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.

You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.

A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.

You were far too deep to stop now.

You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.

“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.

So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.

“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.

The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.

With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.

“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.

Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.

“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.

As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.

Nothing happens until you hear it..

A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.

You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.

The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.

Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.

The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.

You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.

You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.

When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.

He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.

It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.

“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.

“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.

Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.

He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.

“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.

Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.

He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.

“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.

You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.

“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.

You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.

“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.

Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.

“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.

You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.

Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.

“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.

“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.

Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.

“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”

“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.

“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.

After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.

Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?

“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.

“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.

Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.

He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.

“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.

“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”

You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.

You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.

The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”

“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.

“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.

You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”

“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.

“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.

You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.

“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.

“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.

The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.

Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

+

You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.

“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.

The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.

“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.

You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.

Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.

“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.

“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.

Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.

Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”

When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.

“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.

You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.

They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.

You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.

The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”

“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.

Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.

Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.

A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.

Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.

Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.

The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.

You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.

+

5 months later..

Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.

It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.

They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.

Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.

You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.

“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.

Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.

At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.

Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.

You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.

Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.

The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.

“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.

You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.

“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.

He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”

You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.

“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.

Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.

You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.

“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.

“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.

You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.

“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.

Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.

Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.

“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.

You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.

“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.

Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.

You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.

You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.

The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.

“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.

You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.

“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.

“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.

Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.

You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.

“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.

“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.

That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.

It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.

The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.

The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.

When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.

You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.

Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.

“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.

Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.

His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.

“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.

You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..

+

Something’s off…very off.

For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.

“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”

Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”

You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”

Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.

You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.

“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.

“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.

Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”

“On it!”

You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.

“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.

“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.

Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.

You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.

“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.

You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.

“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”

Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.

“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.

Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.

“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”

Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”

You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..

“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.

You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.

Please wait for me..

+

The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.

“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don’t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.

It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.

The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.

“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.

The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”

Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.

You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.

“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.

You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.

“G’night pretty.”

.

Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.

Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.

“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”

His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.

Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.

“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.

You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”

Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.

You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.

“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.

He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”

His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”

You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.

“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.

Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.

.

The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.

Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.

“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.

You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.

Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”

You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”

“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.

Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”

You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.

The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”

And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.

As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.

The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.

Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.

“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.

Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.

Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.

“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.

“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.

Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”

The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.

Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”

“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.

You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.

‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.

“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.

You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.

“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.

Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.

“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.

“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”

+

Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.

With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.

“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.

Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.

Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.

You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.

But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[halloween m.list]

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, hers | Aaron Hotchner

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: A rainy night in a bar, an undercover task, coquetting with your boss — what else could you wish for? After days of trying to catch the murderer, and one stagnant investigation without any solid leads, the team ultimately uncovers how their unsub targets his victims. You could only think of one strategy: set up an ambush. An ambush that put you and your supervisor in an uncomfortable position, leading in the need to engage in flirtatious interactions.

warning: boss x subordinate, age gap, MUTUAL PINING, pre-established rship, mentions of alcohol, rape, killing.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who would allow himself to be distracted from a task, much less a man who enjoyed sitting and sipping beer in some smoky bar, flirting with women — even if it was just for show. His work always came first — that was why he agreed on this charade. He was devoted to work more than his own self, always his number one priority, and his now ex-wife could attest. So knowing that fact and knowing himself, there was absolutely nothing that could distract him from work. Or there ought not to be. So what had changed now?

In his line of work distractions were never good. They could be, what one would say, fatal.

Chilly droplets of dew trickled from the glass surface, down into his pocket where he tightly grasped the bottle, giving him the sensation that it was his own cold sweat running down his temples.

He might not have even noticed it was getting overly hot until the moment you sat down beside him. About to ask you for a drink, his what was supposed to be a flitting gaze paused on you and in that agonizing moment he watched as you took off your jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, leaving you in a red t-shirt and jeans that hugged you around your waist and hips.

The taste of his cold beverage was not enough to quench the fire in his throat.

What on earth was the matter with him!

He swallowed, his eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Irritated by the mere idea, with a frown on his face as dark as the weather outside, he looked back at the bottle he was holding. Why was he staring? Why was he even thinking about it? He needed to focus. You were embarking on a mission that held importance for the whole team. The case was put on hold due to a lack of information and leads for days, weeks. Until two days ago when you showed up in his office, with newspaper in your hands and sugary crystals glued to your lips — why did he remember that? — and finally provided him with the first solid lead in a long time. Concluding this case meant a sense of relief and a good night's rest for the team.

God, he didn't even notice or hear when the bartender approached. Or when in the midst the cacophony of noise you ordered your drink, then how could he carry out this task?

He stole a side-glance at you, only then wishing he didn’t.

There was something almost hypnotic about the way your fingers tenderly curled around the glass and brought it up, pressing to your lips. Despite the surrounding and background noise that busted around the bar — clink of bottles, soft music playing, the hum of conversation, the men cheering for their football team playing on the TV — Hotch found himself able to discern the sound of that shot sliding down your throat in a slow motion, just momentarily tingling beneath the sensitive skin on your neck.

While you were not paying attention, he allowed his gaze to move from your face, down the skin of your neck and arm, to the glass held in your fingers, then finally settling on your lips.

“Just one." You made two promises there.

You promised the first time, setting your glass down on the bar counter once you felt his glance on you, disapproving your way of handling. However, much to your shock, he remained silent.

Just one. You promised the second time — but this time to yourself — once you caught a glimpse from the corner of your eye that he was giving you one of those looks that initially shook the earth beneath your feet and then stabilised you.

Just one because one was needed to put you in a right mood — the ideal ambiance in a corner of your mind, not as distant as one might assume. Just one because you were scared to risk how’d you behave yourself in his presence in this atmosphere.

And he let you take just one because he knew the two drinks did the charm for you.

One was absolutely harmless.

Two… made you into a fiddler.

2 days ago

"Advertisement?" He paused in the middle of flipping a page in his file, glancing at you skeptically from beneath his dark eyebrows, weighing the possible veracity behind your words. Then, you watched as his gaze dropped to your lips only then being hyper-aware of how you’d left your office.

You found yourself muttering an apology, glancing sideways, your fingertips ever-so-slightly brushing the sticky sugar away. And offered, "Take a look."

Minutes ago, inside the privacy of your office, surrounded by 4 walls, you were enjoying your lunch break.

To be quite frank, it was not how you typically chose to spend your time off. You would be out or in the cafeteria with the rest of your team, but the situation in the last few days was a little different. Venturing outside — past your office — provided a great opportunity to run into your boss, which you’d been attempting to steer clear of recently. And so you were sitting in the comfort of your chair, your legs crossed on the table, a doughnut in one and the newspaper in the other hand.

Rising fuel prices.

California wildfires.

British police find car bombs in London.

You found it impossible to continue reading. The purpose of a lunch break was a time-out from work. So you flipped through a couple of pages to reach the back section of the newspaper where the advertisements were located. You’d been wanting for quite some time now to find yourself another car. And so, you skimmed through some advertisements, while others you carefully read, until one finally caught your attention.

It was one of the less prominent ads, and the yellow letters and caption were the one that allured you every time. Every 4th of a month.

Find love! Find gay friends! Find you! FIND OUT! If you are looking to find more about sex, love, or relationship with other guys — congratulations! You've just found it!

You sat upright in the chair, the heels of your boots echoing off the tile floor. With the doughnut firmly gripped between your teeth, you held the newspaper with both hands now and brought it closer to your eyes.

An ultimate guide on how gay men get guys.

"Oh, God!" You exclaimed, hastily taking the doughnut out of your mouth and putting it back in the box on the desk, grabbing the newspaper and making your way to Hotch’s office.

“That has to be it.” Leaning back deep in his chair, Derek played with the pencil in his hands. "We have already analyzed and investigated into all the rational methods that the unsub could’ve used to reach the victims.”

"Absolutely." Garcia added and hurriedly continued speaking in a barely understandable manner, as if reluctant she might acknowledge her mistake. "I checked everything: their online activities, credit cards, surveillance footage... Nothing."

"We know that none of these victims used online-blind-dating sites, or whatever. We know they've never set foot in a gay bar before. So how did the killer get to them? Their family and friends never suspected, let alone knew, that they were gay." Rossi explained. "The victims themselves weren't aware of their homosexuality.”

“And this ad right here…” You unfolded your arms and leaned forward on the desk, glancing at Hotch briefly before focusing down where your finger tapped the new, textured paper. "It provides exactly that. To find themselves from within. This has to be it.”

“We also know the profile." Hotch finally replied, not taking his eyes off you. "I want you to find all the previous newspapers in which these ads can be found. The meetings’ location, time and place, must be announced somewhere in there. There’s a possibility the messages will be encrypted, so take Reid with you. And Garcia…” You nodded in agreement, and he stared at you for a minute longer before shifting his focus to Garcia, who stood behind you, picking at her nails. “Find everything you can about this ad and how the victims were able to contact the advertiser."

The murder seemed linked to the ad, and Hotch’s instincts were usually accurate because they were not mere guesses, but predictions based on numerous factors, all considered in light of his experience.

Gathering all the needed information, the team agreed on the strategy.

“We need someone inside. Someone who will play a confused young man, curious, eager..." Rossi didn't even get a word out, and everyone's gaze — some sneakily, some more openly — were fixed on Reid who was ready to protest but decided otherwise. Arguing with all of you was pointless. Besides, he was the only young man around — he’d remember this and gladly rub it on Derek’s nose.

On the other side of the table, Derek and Emily quickly agreed on teaming up.

"I agree. But if possible, I would like to avoid this long-awaited undercover mission, and be the one to stay behind with Garcia. My stomach still hurts." Waving his hand at his stomach, Rossi grimaced.

“Do you realize we are discussing a man who managed to overpower four men, rape them, and then kill them?" Reid objected.

"Y/L/N and I will join." Hotch said expressionlessly, interlocking his gaze with you just for a second.

Join how? You wondered, your elbow on the armrest, your chin resting on your fist. Garcia stood up, placing documents atop each other, muttering under her breath. "Nothing easier… just be the two of you, but together."

Hotch's eyebrows snapped together, meeting your eyes briefly once again before he looked to the side at Garcia with barely tamed fire in his eyes. "I'm sorry?"

“I- um- sir…” Garcia stuttered and you seized the opportunity to leave the office before Hotch unleashed that smoldering fire on all of you.

Glancing behind your shoulder, Garcia ran after you with a swift pace you'd never seen her take before. Together you both hurried down the stairs and rushed through the glass door, cursing each other before parting ways in the hallway — each heading to your own den.

And that was how you got here.

“So… A gay man in a straight people’s bars.” You finally spoke, trying to sound casual even though this meeting wasn’t. “Finds his victims who are also gay and kills them the same night. At first glance it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Without knowing what we know — it doesn’t.” Hotch replied, then took a sip from his bottle. The victims had never before crossed the threshold of the bars in which they met with the unsub. The unsub found them the same night, and then killed them. “But it was a smart move to throw the cops off to a wrong path.”

“Definitely.” You agreed. “In this modern digitalized world who’d even bother to check the newspapers.”

When he didn’t say anything in return, you sighed, leaning towards the bar, pushing the empty glass away.

"You two look like a date gone wrong." Even with the music playing, Derek's amused voice could be heard loud and clear through the small earbud piece. You leaned back slightly to catch sight of Derek and Emily dancing lavishly together.

“Like every date Y/N goes to.” Emily added, smirking at you.

That earned them a reproachful look from their boss.

Nice, now your boss knew how lame your dating life was.

But nonetheless, you laughed, and the warmth of your laughter enveloped Hotch's heart. Looking back at you, he softened and watched as you swirled the ice cubes in your fresh Coke with a small red straw. Then bringing the straw up to your lips, you took a sip. Now it was his jaw that clenched.

“Incorrect…” you playfully remarked, your eyes sparkled as you held his gaze determinedly over the rim of your glass, and that victorious grin on your face transitioned into something affectionate, something intimate. “This one takes the cake."

“Sir! I told you gotta act!”

"Garcia." Aaron warned.

“I can multitask, sir.” She quickly added, with a hint of reverence. “I have a reputation I intend to keep. So no, no developments as of now."

"Could he possibly know we've found out?" You asked.

"I doubt it."

While talking, Aaron usually had the tendency to look around the room, examine the faces and look for any signs of trouble. The bar had an overall sense of amusement, with sporadic bursts of loud chatter and individuals savoring drinks such as beer, neat whiskey, or some mixed drinks and sodas with straws. Couples, friends, loners — everyone was busy either drinking, dancing, or... kissing.

His hand trembled, holding onto the beer tightly as he brought it to his mouth and chugged, grimacing. "What happened with Brad?" He finally asked, taking you aback just a little.

It’d been a few days since that conversation with him about Brad, and it had quite bothered you that he hadn’t asked you anything about your final decision.

"Who is Brad?" You chuckled, your head dropping slightly before looking up at him again, a warm smile forming on your lips that... It stole something from him, something he couldn’t express crisply enough. In this very casual manner, you appeared …beautiful while brushing back the hair that skimmed your cheeks.

He frowned, glancing down, collecting his thoughts. At some point along the way you had become a distraction. Pushing that realization aside with a blink, he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He looked at the beer he was holding like it was an escape — a safe haven from your gaze. He had nearly consumed all of his drink. Hotch had been refraining from alcohol for some time, now it was starting to affect him. He did drink stronger drinks alone in his apartment or at Rossi’s after his divorce, and even then he noticed he couldn’t keep up with it the way his younger self used to. Yeah. It had to be it.

“Well, I suppose it was the right thing to do.”

“Well, in fact it was you who helped me realize. Some mistakes aren’t worth repeating twice. So cheers to that, sir.” You swivelled sideways and towards him, holding your glass up before taking a sip.

Sir. There that came again. It was not that he hated being called ‘sir’, damn, Garcia called him that too many times and the thought never appalled him. He was just not used to hear you call him ‘sir’. It was mainly ‘Hotch’, sometimes even ‘Hotchner’, or if you were being a little tease then you referred to him as ‘boss’.

“Sir!” Garcia’s voice came through, cutting his thoughts in half. “He’s here!”

You shared a knowing glance.

And then suddenly, some guy sauntered in, physically placing himself between you and Hotch. The action was unexpected, quite bold. However, you then realized that to most outsiders, the two of you probably didn't appear to be a couple. In this very bar, couples around you were doing…things, and the two of you hardly spoke at all.

“Hey there sunshine.” He drawled, leaning against the bar, looking down at you. The tall man didn’t mind or acknowledge Hotch at all. He had black lush hair, probably devastatingly blue eyes, in his late 20s – early 30s. Closer to your age than Hotch was anyway, he thought to himself. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Finding yourself in this awkward position, before you could even answer, Hotch cleared his throat. The latter turned around peevishly just enough to give Hotch gray glares, and arching an eyebrow, replied disgusted. "I didn't ask you... pal." And he turned to you again, a jolly smirk on his face.

So Hotch was right. The man had devastatingly blue eyes.

Aaron glanced annoyedly at his beer. If he could have, he'd have smashed that bottle on his head. But decided to go with a more rational option and patted the man’s shoulder.

"It's showtime." Derek's voice sang in the bug.

"She's busy... pal." Your boss countered, his voice low and tinged with warning.

"Doesn't seem so..." He now addressed Hotch over his shoulder, choosing not to let your companion bother him or to take his eyes off of you. “…pal.”

The man’s finger made way under your chin and he tilted your head backwards, hovering over you.

“Oh ‘xcuse me…” You scoffed disapprovingly at the boldness of his action, moving your head away from his touch. Bristled.

The crease between Aaron’s eyebrows deepened further, keenly resolute. He felt the bubbles of anger simmer inside him, waiting for the right sign to explode. He smothered a sigh, steeling himself. If he had been on assignment somewhere on the field — any other, or on a real date with you — he'd have handled the situation in a much different way. Instead, he put his hand on the man's shoulder again, but this time firmly, and pushed him away from you.

"I said..." The baleful timbre of Aaron’s voice carried the same threat evident on his face. He reached out and grabbed the stem of your chair. The tiles beneath creaked as he dragged the chair towards himself, closing the gap between the two of you. Your knees accidentally brushed against his leg and the familiar warm sensation returned to your stomach, causing your pulse to quicken. "She's with me." Something ickered in Aaron’s eyes. You were unsure how to interpret it.

"And what could a woman like her want with a grump like you?" You heard the guy say, stepping towards Hotch, his chest puffed out.

You had to stop it before it escalated.

Deliberately, you inched closer, your gaze meeting Aaron’s. Behind your flashing eyes, he could see both — a permission and an apology for what you were bracing yourself to do.

“It’s okay…” You began gently, swallowing as you placed your hands on Aaron’s knees, stroking his legs. You couldn't look away from your boss's eyes, and as you smiled, subtly wrinkling your nose at him, you could have sworn that the muscles under the denim fabric hardened even more than they had just a moment before. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Being in such proximity, it was impossible to ignore all the things Aaron noticed about you — the depth of your bottomless eyes, shiny lips, the peachy scent of your hair was the only scent worthy in this noisome crowd. He was definitely drunk, a bit tempted. Never had he ever been intoxicated solely by the subtle scent of a shampoo.

"Well, if you wanna have real fun, I'll be sitting over there." He winked at you, pointing somewhere behind you.

You both watched as the man walked away, only then ending the charade. An awkward tension set between you two that made you feel every beat of your wilding heart. In a profound quietness, you both swivelled around and towards the bar. In a deafening silence, both of you, reflected on it without acknowledging that you longed for that intimacy.

“I-…”

“Do you see him?” Hotch spoke over you, back to business. You quickly glanced over your shoulder and back to Aaron, nodding.

“Ok. Good.” He pressed the earpiece with his finger. “Morgan?”

“He’s talking to Reid.” Garcia spoke instead.

“It’s definitely him, Aaron.” Rossi confirmed.

“We have a bit of a situation here.” Both of you looked at where you last saw Emily and Derek. You couldn't get the proper view at the two of them sitting in the booth now, but it looked like a group of women stood beside their desk.

Morgan, you rolled your eyes playfully. And then…

"Wait..." You frowned, and Hotch watched as the gears in your head turned before recognition dawned on your face. You looked up at him. “Isn't that Joseph Moetski?"

Hotch glowered, thinking. The newsdealer. He still hadn’t had a chance to look back and see for himself, but it would make perfect sense. After all, Joseph was a newsagent and the team had known about him —you had worked with him in an occasion or two when you first started working for Hotch. He had the access to all the media: magazines, newspapers, television, and so on.

Aaron drew closer towards you, not wanting to blow your cover away, now his whole body facing you. You felt a dangerous flutter in your heart as you looked at him squarely into eyes, never anticipating what he was about to do. He reached forward to move the hair from your face back over your shoulder and then tucked some behind your ear. His gaze was dark and intent — you could see the concentration in there, maybe even slight tenderness, and it sent your mind in wild directions.

Your hair was very silky and soft under his palm, the focus of his vision shifted from the man who was seated beside Reid a few meters behind, to you.

“Garcia?” His spoke coolly, professionally. But there was nothing professional about the way he was watching you. You ducked your head and gently stroked the skin on your neck, a lively red blossom of color rose up your cheeks, a hesitant smile stretched across your face. It was such a small gesture. And then his big hand rested on the side of your neck, using the opportunity to feel your skin — something he’d never admit to himself. Hoping he couldn’t feel your telltale pulse, you had to remind yourself that he was your very professional never-crossing-a-line boss.

It was a dangerous game to even think about something like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. For years you’d been harbouring feelings for him — platonic or not, and this was not going to help.

“Bingo! It’s him!”

“Sorry to interrupt you, birdies.” A bartender interrupted and you both turned around, almost jumping from your seats. “The politics around here are: you have to order another drink… or get the hell out of here. And as I can see, you drank all of yours.” Crossing her arms on her chest, she asked. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

As Hotch took the chance to order new drinks, anxiety creeped up your back, and you looked back over your shoulder just in time to see Spence holding the back of his head as well as the unsub running toward and past the two of you.

Gripping your gun close under your clothes, you reached out and tugged on Hotch's shirt. “Hotch!” You promptly got to your feet and chased after the suspect.

You heard a chair fall onto the dark tiles of the floor somewhere behind you, disgruntled and angry shouts and remarks from people who were bumbed or knocked down by the man you were running after.

Fortunately, the unsub cleared a way for you, allowing you to quickly catch up with him, grab him and push him. His face met the ground, and hastily you sat on top of him, pushing his hands and securing them on his upper back. But to say you were struggling would be an understatement. The unsub was a strong man, twice your size, so when he managed to free one hand from your grasp it was a no surprise. He attempted to pull you upwards and you sat unsteadily on his back, swaying like you were at a rodeo, a quick "whoa" slipping out of your mouth. Hotch rushed to help you, kicking the unsub’s feet, and without a second thought, his chest pressed against your back as he leaned closely from behind you, his arms wrapped around you as he assisted in restraining the suspect before Emily approached and put the handcuffs on.

The third party — Reid, watching it all unfold in front of his eyes, couldn’t help but smile at you both even through the throbbing pain in his head. You were just like Mulder and Scully. Tangled and messy, unable to see it, yet still fantastic as a team.

Now the only thing left was, he concluded, for you two to realize it finally.

In all that rush and adrenaline kicking in, neither of you did have time to process or relish the way your bodies melded together.

But this whole night was something that would keep you both up tonight and wouldn’t let you get that well-deserved good night’s sleep.

[littlelamy]

𝙖 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩

𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝐱 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞

The warm glow of vintage Edison bulbs bathed the room in soft, intimate light. Rafe Cameron lounged on the velvet couch, his eyes scanning the dimly lit space with curiosity. His anticipation simmered, and he was more than ready for whatever you had planned. This wasn’t just another night. It was his night, his birthday, and he knew you had something special in store for him.

The door creaked open, and the faintest chill of cool air filled the space. Rafe’s lips quirked up at the sight of you, your figure framed by the soft light behind you, casting you as the center of his world. There you stood, wearing nothing but confidence and allure. A 1940s burlesque dream—silk stockings hugging your thighs, impossibly high heels clicking against the floor as you stepped forward, a deep red velvet corset cinching your waist, pushing up your breasts in just the right way.

“Jesus,” Rafe muttered, a breathless awe edging his voice.

You smirked, tilting your chin, red lips curving in a teasing, seductive smile. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The slow, smoky tone of your voice matched the sultry pin-up vibe you exuded, and it was like you stepped out of a dream. Rafe’s breath caught in his chest. You tilted your head, your gaze dark and predatory, and you were ready to work your magic on him.

“Don’t move,” you teased, your finger gently pressed to your lips, commanding him to stay still.

Rafe barely suppressed a groan, hands clutching the cushions beneath him. His body tensed with the hunger building inside, but he wasn’t one to rush. Not with you. Not when you were giving him such an unforgettable birthday gift.

You swayed your hips to the rhythm of the slow jazz music that crackled to life in the background. The song felt made for this—made for you. With every movement, you captivated him. Your hands traced down your body, slowly unhooking the garters, inch by inch, while his eyes followed every deliberate move. His grip tightened on the seat, fighting every instinct to pull you down onto him.

You turned, giving him a view of your perfect curves as you arched your back, your corset laced tight, highlighting your natural shape. Then, with a slow, practiced motion, you slipped the stocking from one leg, letting it drop to the floor. You lifted your other leg onto a chair, slowly stripping off the second stocking, teasing him as you moved, your body a display of seduction and confidence.

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the sight of you—perfectly crafted, utterly intoxicating—burning into his mind. “Fuck, baby,” he rasped, voice already rough with need. He had barely any control left, his eyes dark with desire.

You gave him a sultry glance over your shoulder. “Liking your birthday so far?”

Rafe was practically panting now, hands flexing at his sides, but he didn’t move. Not yet.

“Come here, and I’ll tell you,” he groaned, voice low, rough, completely undone.

You smirked, gliding toward him with purpose. “Patience.”

Rafe groaned at the word, but his resolve crumbled when you straddled his lap. Your heat pressed against him, making him groan with hunger. His hands shot to your hips, gripping you tight as he pulled you closer, needing more, but you kept your distance, letting him feel the weight of your body without fully giving in.

“Go on, baby. Say it,” you challenged, leaning close to him, your breath brushing against his lips.

“You’re killing me,” Rafe muttered, his hands now desperate, fingers digging into your skin. He pulled you closer, the friction making you both gasp in unison. “You’re so fucking...”

You silenced him with a kiss, slow and deep, pressing yourself into him. His lips parted, allowing you to explore, your tongue teasing against his. He groaned into the kiss, his hands finally traveling up your body, moving under the sheer lingerie you wore. You couldn’t hold back your soft moan as his touch made you shiver.

You broke the kiss with a smile, your voice sultry. “You gonna be good for me tonight?”

Rafe’s head dropped back, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. “I’ll be as good as you let me, baby.”

You moved again, your hips rolling in time with the rhythm, the friction between you two building. His hands were all over you, his touch possessive and eager, yet still gentle, like he was savoring every inch of you.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his neck, sending sparks down his spine. “Gonna mark you up tonight,” he whispered, his voice rough with lust. “You’re mine.”

The words sent a shiver through you, your body tightening as the tension built between you both. You kissed him again, your hands sliding down his chest, teasing the button of his pants before you slowly undid it, pulling him free of his restraint.

Without warning, you ground your hips into him, the pressure building as you took control, riding him slow, your body rolling against his in perfect rhythm. Rafe’s hands tightened around your waist, urging you to go faster, to take what you both needed.

“I want to hear you,” he breathed, his voice a low growl in your ear as his fingers slid up your spine, finding the base of your neck and gently applying pressure.

You gasped, your breath hitching as he pressed harder, the slight pressure making everything inside you spark. “God, yes,” you whispered, your voice breathless. The heat between you two was unbearable, and you could feel yourself unraveling with every move.

With each thrust, your body clenched tighter, spiraling higher and higher until you couldn’t hold back. The tension snapped, and you both fell over the edge together, your name tumbling from his lips as you cried out in bliss, your body trembling as you collapsed against him, your head nestled against his chest.

You both laid there, breathless and content, your bodies tangled together. His hands traced the marks he’d left on your skin, the evidence of his claim on you. His lips kissed your temple as you sighed, utterly relaxed in his arms.

Rafe’s voice was a soft murmur as he pulled you closer. “Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You smiled, curling into him, your voice gentle as you kissed his chest. “Only the best for you, birthday boy.”

From there, the evening blurred into moments of pure indulgence.

The drive to dinner was a game of teasing and anticipation. Your hand slid up Rafe’s thigh, your fingers skimming the fabric of his jeans as you leaned closer, brushing your lips against his ear. His breath quickened as you inched your way closer to where he needed you most. The highway stretched out before you, but all Rafe could focus on was your warm breath on his skin, your lips grazing him as your hand crept higher.

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight, trying to steady himself as you leaned over him. The rush of the moment was enough to send a wave of heat through his body, and he couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped him as you gave him exactly what he wanted, your red lips wrapping around him, teasing him, driving him insane.

After dinner, the night only intensified. Back at home, Rafe couldn’t hold back. His lips descended on you with a hunger that nearly consumed him. He worshipped you, his hands roaming over your body, tracing every curve and contour, taking his time with each tender touch. Your breath hitched as you clutched the sheets beneath you, your body trembling as his mouth found every sensitive spot. Rafe wasn’t a man who left things half-finished.

The way he coaxed you to the edge, again and again, had you gasping his name like a prayer. Your back arched off the bed, a cry escaping your lips as he brought you to the brink of madness, only to pull back and start again. He didn’t stop until you were a quivering mess, your legs shaking from the intensity of it all.

Once he’d had his fill, you were on top of him, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. You rode him slow, taking control as your hips moved in a fluid rhythm. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer with every movement, as your back arched at the overwhelming closeness of it all. His lips found the column of your throat, brushing over your sensitive skin, and you could hear the ragged groan that escaped him. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he rasped, his voice low and strained.

And just like that, you both reached another peak, your bodies entangled in the heat of the moment, lost in the pleasure you created for each other. There was no rush, only the slow burn of desire and the deep connection that tied you together. The birthday celebration was far from over, but for now, there was only you and Rafe, flying high on the waves of each other’s touch.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @nemesyaaa

credits to @anitalenia for the divider <3

[reveryfics]

Marvelous

Charles Xavier x Male Reader

Summary: Charles and Eric's need for new mutants brings them to a mutant owned Burlesque club, introducing them to a particular shape-shifter.

A/N: I'm back earlier then expected, but hopefully this and the Valentines Day fic make up for when I was gone. Requests open.

The velvet curtains parted with a sigh, releasing Charles and Eric into the smoky embrace of the Burlesque club. The air hung thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation. A sharply dressed maître d' immediately recognized them, his eyes widening slightly before a professional smile smoothed over his features. "Gentlemen," he murmured, ushering them through the crowded room. "Your table awaits."

They were led to a plush, dimly lit booth nestled near the grand stage, a prime vantage point for the evening's entertainment. The murmur of the crowd, the clinking of glasses, the low thrum of the music – all of it faded into the background as the house lights began to dim, casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. A hush fell over the audience, a collective intake of breath before the show began.

Then, you appeared.

A single spotlight pierced the darkness, illuminating the stage and revealing your striking presence. The shimmering blue of your skin seemed to absorb and reflect the light, an otherworldly hue that immediately captivated the eye. A cascade of luxurious blonde curls framed your face, contrasting beautifully with your unusual blue skin tone. A delicate pearl necklace rested against your chest, the creamy orbs glowing softly against your skin. The undeniably scandalous outfit you wore, a masterpiece of shimmering fabrics and strategically placed embellishments, clung to your body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and line. You moved with a mesmerizing grace, each step, each gesture, imbued with a confidence that radiated outwards, filling the entire room. It was as if the stage were your own private domain, a world where you reigned supreme. You danced with a passion that transcended mere performance, lost in the rhythm with the other Burlesque dancers, each movement a story told in the language of the body.

Your eyes swept across the audience, a slow, deliberate survey that took in every face, every expression. Then, your gaze locked with theirs. A slow, knowing smile spread across your lips, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. You danced closer to their booth, your hips swaying rhythmically, your eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings as you dipped low, your eyes locking with Charles's. You knew exactly who they were, and precisely why they had come. And you were damned if you wouldn't offer Charles a private showing of your… talents.

The crowd erupted in cheers, a wave of voices chanting your name, a testament to your popularity. As the music reached a crescendo, your body began to shift and change before their very eyes. The transformation was seamless, fluid, almost magical. Feminine features melted into masculine contours, delicate lines hardened into powerful angles. It was a breathtaking display of control and artistry, a testament to your mastery over your own form. The audience gasped, captivated by the spectacle unfolding before them.

Charles visibly licked his lips, his eyes glued to the stage. For a moment, he seemed to forget Eric's presence beside him, lost in the mesmerizing performance. "He's quite… marvelous, isn't he, Charles?" Eric murmured, his eyes fixed on you.

Charles could only nod, his breath catching in his throat. His gaze remained locked on the stage as you shed the last remnants of your costume, revealing a skin-tight ensemble that accentuated every curve and line of your newly formed body. The performance was hypnotic, a captivating blend of power and grace.

When your show concluded, a stagehand approached Charles, discreetly gesturing for him to follow. Eric gave him a knowing look, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as Charles was led through the club, the pulsating music and excited chatter fading slightly as he neared your dressing room.

The room was small but luxurious, decorated with plush velvet drapes and ornate mirrors. You were seated on a silken chaise lounge, a robe loosely draped around your form, a picture of relaxed power. A half-empty bottle of champagne sat on a nearby table, along with two crystal glasses. "Charles Xavier," you purred, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I knew you'd come."

Before Charles could even speak, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand before closing around his wrist, tugging him closer. Your eyes, intense and knowing, looked up at him through your lashes. "Crawling back to a shapeshifter, after Raven left you," you whispered, your voice laced with a playful challenge, a hint of vulnerability beneath the bravado. "So scandalous, yet I have a feeling you enjoy it."

Charles felt his cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue swirling within him. He couldn't deny the similarities between you and Mystique, but there was something different about you, an undeniable spark, a magnetic pull that drew him in. "Perhaps," he admitted, his voice a low murmur, his eyes searching yours. "But something tells me you aren't like Mystique. Although we could use someone of your… talents."

A throaty laugh escaped your lips, the sound both seductive and playful. Your body began to shift and change once more, the transformation as seamless and captivating as it had been on stage. It was a display of power, a demonstration of your complete control over your own form. "How could I say no to someone so… persuasive?" you purred, your voice a silken caress.

You released Charles' wrist, rising to your feet and backing him against the vanity. One hand cupped his cheek, your touch surprisingly gentle, while the other rested on the cool surface behind him, trapping him in your gaze. "We're going to get along nicely," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. Then, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tantalizing kiss, a promise of more to come.

You pulled away, licking your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a graceful turn, you walked out of the dressing room, offering a playful wave to Eric, who was waiting just outside, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Charles touched his lips, a small, involuntary smile playing on his mouth. He knew he was a sucker for people like you, for the thrill of the unexpected, the allure of the unknown. He was drawn to your confidence, your power, your undeniable charisma.

"I'm so screwed," he muttered, a mixture of amusement, apprehension, and a touch of excitement swirling within him. He knew he was walking a dangerous line, but he couldn't resist the temptation to follow where you led.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

Stoner suguru makes me absolutely feral :3

girl me too, this one’s for you xo [prev] [next]

tl;dr rolling up for stoner!suguru getou

the past few months have been infinitely more enjoyable thanks to your special arrangement with suguru. you call it that because neither of you has dared to define whatever it is you share. all you know is suguru is fine as hell, laid back, and always pulls up to smoke without expecting anything in return. every time you link up, you bring your smallest purse, holding just a few dollars and a couple of lip glosses. sometimes, you forget to bring a purse altogether—what can you say? you’re just a girl. at least, that’s how suguru makes you feel. he never lets you lift a finger and constantly checks to ensure you’re comfortable.

it’s magnetic, really. in the smoky confines of his car, you often find yourself mesmerized by him. more often than not, you end up in lap. 

it’s a welcome escape from your otherwise stressful life. you met suguru at a uni party—both part-time students. now that you’re close, you’ve learned he’s majoring in business, pursuing a degree to aid his ventures as co-owner of a cannabis greenhouse. outside of school, you work at a corporate office—a job you loathe. it pays well, but everything about it—the people, the monotony—is soul-crushing. your time with suguru is the kind of thrill you’ve been craving.

which is why you’re sick to your stomach when suguru tells you he’ll be tied up with greenhouse business for a couple weeks. he’s got back-to-back meetings lined up with shoko and their team about new prospects. of course, you tell him it’s no problem, but you’d grown used to seeing him. the last time you hung out, he made you promise to take a t-break until you see each other again.

“it’s not just about building tolerance,” he’d said, smirking. “it builds anticipation. trust me, it’ll hit so good next time.”

two slow weeks crawl by before he finally texts on a friday night. you’re in the middle of your self-care routine—sage burning, fresh out of a steamy shower, a face mask drying, and trashy reality show playing in the background—when your phone buzzes.

sugu 🔌

you giggle at his contact name, your dried face mask preventing a full smile. you unlock your phone to read:

hey, I’m free again. ik it’s been a while. wanna come over tmr? I’ll smoke u out ofc

you stare at the screen, giddy. just as you’re about to lock your phone, another message pops up:

missed u

your stomach flips. quickly, you set the phone down and rush to rinse off your mask before you send something completely unhinged. when you finally respond, you simply heart the “missed u” message and agree to come over. he tells you he’s planning to sleep in and hit the gym tomorrow, so he’ll pick you up at six. as always, you offer to pitch in for the bud, and, as always, he responds with a simple:

no need.

sure enough, suguru pulls up the next day at six on the dot. for someone who calls himself a stoner, he’s ridiculously punctual. his bass thumps outside as your phone lights up again:

sugu 🔌

I’m here. hop in

you glance in the mirror one last time. playing it safe, you’ve gone for grey leggings, a white tee, and cropped sweatshirt. your curls are extra juicy from yesterday’s wash day, and your lips glisten with an overabundance of gloss—you already know he’ll make you take it off later. 

hopping into his car, you eagerly take him in. the fading sunlight casts soft shadows on his face. his dark hair is in a high, loose bun, a few strands sticking to his cheek. he’s swapped his usual silver studs for black diamonds that twinkle in the low light. he’s wearing a black adidas tracksuit, unzipped revealing a hint of the white tee beneath. and, as always, he smells incredible.

you think he greets you with a “hey,” but you’re already leaning over to press a glossy kiss to his cheek. “hi,” you say, voice soft.

a faint blush spreads across his tanned skin, and he touches his cheek, smirking as he rubs off the residue.

“eager, huh?”

feigning innocence, you tilt your head. “what? I’m just happy to see my plug. you left me high and dry.”

his smirk falters. “am I really just the plug to you? I bring so much more to the table.”

you laugh, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. “so bring it,” you tease, gesturing at him. “I’m not stopping you.”

he chuckles, resting a hand on your thigh as he starts the car. “I’m holding you to that. you look good, by the way… as always.”

the drive to his place doesn’t take long—ten, maybe twenty minutes. unlike you, suguru lives in the heart of the city. as you near his building, the streets get busier, lined with sleek modern apartments and flashy cars.

he parks expertly, flexing his arm as he reaches over your seat. you pointedly avoid watching, focusing elsewhere as he cuts off the engine and steps out. once you’re both out of the car, he guides you by the waist toward the entrance.

on the stoop, a couple of older men sit chatting. one, is absolutely shredded, with a cigarette hanging from his lips, sporting a scar cutting through his mouth’s corner. the other, slimmer with a faint mustache, sips a beer.

“yo, nephew!” the scarred man calls out as you approach.

suguru’s arm tightens around your waist before he pulls away to dap him up. “what’s up, toji?” he nods to the other man.

“same old. baby mama’s on my ass again.” toji sighs dramatically before adding, “actually, can you text her for me? I’m blocked—again. just wanna see my kid. promise it’s the last time.”

suguru groans, kicking at the doormat. “whatever, toji. remind me later.”

with that, he steers you inside, his hand finding its place on your waist again.

you spend the elevator ride up to suguru’s apartment cracking up over his deadbeat neighbor. suguru keeps shaking his head, muttering about how he has to move out because everyone in the building is a headache. you try to rub his back soothingly, but your laughter keeps betraying you—his kid’s probably better off away from him.

once inside, you’re struck by how spacious and well-kept the apartment is. it’s a two-bedroom, two-bath, the vibe is homey yet modern. sleek black furniture contrasts with a soft gray couch, and various plants are scattered throughout, adding a touch of warmth. it’s impressively clean, especially for a guy’s place. suguru heads to a drawer, pulling out a lighter, while you settle onto the couch. he lights a stick of incense sitting on the coffee table, the scent quickly filling the air.

the two of you visibly relax as the calming aroma spreads. you ask suguru about his week, and he leans back, stretching his arms lazily across the back of the couch. he starts telling you about a new strain he’s been developing with his roommate, gojo—whom he’s mentioned before and who, apparently, is a cannabis breeder and geneticist. they’re working on a sativa strain with a thirty percent thc level, aiming to create something both calming and invigorating. suguru’s eyes light up as he explains the process, even describing how they’re infusing the strain with a sweet blueberry flavor.

in the middle of his explanation, suguru gets up, rummaging through the fridge before returning with a plate of shortcake.

“speaking of—something sweet for a sweet thing like you.”

you wrinkle up your nose, “you’re better than that suguru.”

he laughs, placing the plate on the armrest, and in one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap. you gasp, caught off guard by the sudden move.

“don’t tell me you’re shy now,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his tone.

you playfully swat his arm but adjust yourself, leaning against the armrest while your legs drape across his lap. suguru reaches into his pocket, pulling out a zip, then grabs a matching sage-green rolling tray and grinder from the coffee table.

“I’m thinking four blunts to start off,” he says.

you place a hand over his. “suguru, let me roll. it’s the least I can do.”

he sighs, brushing his bangs back. “alright, but I’m watching closely,” he says, gesturing toward your freshly done acrylics.

confident, you start grinding an eighth. he puts on some soft r&b, the mellow tunes filling the space, and even feeds you bites of shortcake while you work. you hum in delight.

“’s really good,” you mumble between bites.

you crinkle up the black raw paper, carefully line up the bud and begin rolling, suguru clears his throat, shooting you a critical look.

“something wrong?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“it’s tight enough, but you didn’t pack nearly enough. looks malnourished.”

you groan, unraveling it. suguru leans in, guiding your hands as he sprinkles more weed into the paper. his fingers linger, wrapping around yours to ensure a perfect roll.

once finished, you run a lighter along the seam, sealing it tightly. suguru ruffles your hair, whistling in approval.

“much better—such a fast learner.”

rolling your eyes, you shove a big forkful of shortcake into his mouth. “think I like you better when you don’t talk.”

the two of you make quick work of the rest of the blunts. you light the first one, taking a long, satisfying hit before passing it to suguru. ever the showoff, he ghosts the smoke, exhaling thick clouds with practiced ease. on his third exhale, he casually pulls the tie from his bun, letting his hair cascade over his shoulders. you shift slightly on his lap, trying to play it cool.

suguru notices but doesn’t comment, smirking as he passes the blunt back. after a few more passes, you’re both sunk deep into the couch, heavy and relaxed. the conversation meanders, jumping from complaining about uptight professors to fantasizing about post-grad travel plans. 

somehow, australia comes up, and before long, the topic spirals into an absurd yet passionate debate over whether suguru could take a kangaroo in a fistfight.

“I’m telling you, sugu, they’ve got hands! they’d body you.”

suguru chuckles, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his bicep as he flexes. “please—these arms could easily drop a kangaroo, I’d sneak it”

you laugh. “If you wanted me to feel you up, just say that.”

he’s about to respond when his phone vibrates. his amused expression darkens as he reads the messages.

toji (neighbor/nuisance)

wsg neph dnt forget to hit up my bm I owe ya btw I peeped tht pretty thing u brought home I’d hit it

suguru’s jaw clenches, and he tosses the phone aside with a scowl. “he’s such a dick.”

you place a hand on his thigh, trying to bring him back to the relaxed vibe. “forget him. he’d never get the chance.”

you lower your voice jutting your lips into a pout, “he’s lucky you entertain him at all… wish you’d entertain me instead.”

your fingers trail through his hair, and his mood shifts. his eyes meet yours, dark and heavy-lidded. he hums, leaning closer. his hand slides up your thigh as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. the gentle kiss quickly turns into something more intense—lips, teeth, and tongue working together to leave a mark.

you’re just starting to lose yourself in the warm sensation when the door bursts open.

“‘m back, roomieee! ya miss me?!”

you freeze as a tall figure with white hair strides into view. this must be the aforementioned gojo. he leans over the couch, blue eyes wide—grinning like he’s caught you in the act.

“having fun, aren’t we?”

suguru groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. unsure of what else to do, you start introducing yourself, but gojo waves you off.

“no need. lover boy here talks about you all the time.”

“easy,” suguru warns.

gojo’s eyes sparkle mischievously. “shortcake good? made it myself.”

“it was amazing,” you admit, and his grin widens.

suguru cuts in. “gojo, what do you want?”

gojo pulls out a bag of bright blue nerds rope edibles, his eyes gleaming. “wanna trip?”

fuck it, let’s see where the night takes us. you nod. “I’m down. suguru?”

he shrugs, plucking the bag from gojo’s hand. “product testing.”

you each take a piece, the sugary sweetness masking any trace of weed. as suguru lights another blunt, gojo squats in front of the tv, powering on the nintendo switch. he glances over his shoulder, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

“mario kart?” he offers, but it’s less a question and more an expectation.

you slide off suguru’s lap to grab two controllers, giggling when he swats at your ass on the way. He exhales a slow puff of smoke, smirking.

“gotta warn you,” he says lazily. “gojo gets super competitive. we’re talking bets, wagers, and he’s got a tendency to rage-quit.”

you snatch the blunt from his fingers, sticking out your tongue. “think I can match that energy.”

it doesn’t take long for the edibles to kick in. soon, you’re blissfully hazy, six races deep into the game. gojo’s antics—hoarding red shells, dropping banana peels right at the finish line, and pausing the game at the worst possible moments—have all of you shouting over each other. 

somewhere around the seventh race, your high starts to pull your focus to the vivid chaos of rainbow road. neon colors blur together, mesmerizing you, and before you know it, you’re in dead last. meanwhile, gojo and suguru are locked in a heated argument over whether using bullet bill counts as cheating.

by the eighth race, suguru overtakes gojo, and without a hint of remorse, gojo slams the pause button. “fuckin’, cheating prick,” he mutters before quitting the game entirely. 

suguru stares at the blank screen in disbelief. “seriously?”

without missing a beat, gojo powers off the switch and saunters toward the kitchen. “just got bored,” he calls over his shoulder, casually opening cabinet doors and leaving them ajar. “anyway, just remembered I’ve been craving those candied grapes I keep seeing on my timeline.”

you stand, stretching your legs, about to offer help when suguru grabs your wrist and tugs you toward his room, muttering something about giving you the “full tour.”

before you can say a word, gojo waves a hand without even looking up. “don’t forget to use protection!”

suguru groans, slapping a hand over your ears as he steers you away. 

“god, shut up, satoru.”

suguru’s room is just as you’d expect—simple, cozy, and meticulously organized. the black bedspread and pillows match the two chairs and the sleek vanity along the wall. white walls, otherwise bare, are adorned with a single collage of photos beside the vanity. some are easy to pick out: suguru and gojo over the years.

suguru flips a switch, and the room bathes in soft purple light. you sit at the edge of his bed, watching as he stretches his arms overhead, a yawn escaping his lips. he unzips his jacket, tossing it over a chair, and settles against the headboard. you pick at your fingernails, a nervous habit, until a pillow hits your back.

“don’t do that,” he says softly. “c’mere.”

for the second time tonight, you crawl onto his lap. his hands find your thighs, gripping firmly.

“one more?” he murmurs, fishing a blunt from his pocket—another one from earlier. you toy with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m tapping out,” you reply, shaking your head. “that’s all you.”

he smirks, placing the blunt between his lips, and reaches for a lighter on the bedside table. with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he hands it to you. “light it for me?”

you flick the lighter once—twice—before the flame steadies. leaning in, you carefully burn the tip of the blunt. his hands slide up to your hips, settling on your waist as he inhales deeply, the paper crackling and glowing red. smoke billows from his lips, and he blows it over your face, making you hyperaware of the solid warmth of his body beneath you.

suguru lifts your chin with a gentle touch, his half-lidded gaze locking onto yours. “I don’t know what’s more addicting—you or this high.”

your fingers trace the curve of his lips. “yeah?” you whisper, bringing the blunt back to him.

he nods, maintaining eye contact as he exhales a lazy cloud of smoke. he takes the blunt from your hand, continuing to take slow, deliberate hits. meanwhile, your hands roam. a manicured nail glides over his brow, down his cheek, along his sharp jaw.

“you’re so handsome,” you say, almost dreamlike. “don’t know how I went two weeks without you. couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

suguru’s lips twitch into a small smile. “yeah?”

“mhm.”

the air between you feels electric. he exhales another smoky stream, and you lean in, pressing your lips to the soft skin of his neck. you bite down gently, earning a low groan, then soothe the mark with your tongue. his hands explore, slipping beneath your sweatshirt, skimming the skin under your shirt. the cloudy air thickens in the room as you trail kisses along his neck, messy and wet.

his voice is husky, laden with desire. “feels good.”

your hands wander further, brushing beneath his fitted tee. along his chest, your fingers graze something cool and smooth, he tenses.

“fuck,” he mutters.

realizing it’s a piercing, you tease it with your fingertips, watching his reaction. you giggle, bringing his hand to cup your own chest, brushing over a similar bump beneath your shirt.

“we’re matching,” you say with a smirk, he tugs gently at your piercing. the sensation sends a jolt through you, and you grind down against him instinctively.

“shit,” he breathes, gripping your hips as he meets your rhythm, slow and intoxicating. his lips, plump and slightly parted, draw your attention.

“suguru,” you whisper.

“hm?”

“kiss me.”

he doesn’t hesitate. his lips meet yours softly at first, then quickly deepen with urgency. each kiss hungrier than the last. his teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging roughly, sending a shiver down your spine. your breaths come in heavy, ragged pants, the air between you growing hotter, stickier, charged with every second that passes.

“YEEOW!”

the moment shatters with a high-pitched yelp and a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by the clatter of pots and pans.

both of you freeze, processing the interruption.

“FUCK!” gojo’s unmistakable voice echoes through the apartment.

suguru buries his face in his hands, groaning. “no. fucking. way.”

you scramble off suguru, your heart pounding for entirely different reasons now, and rush to the kitchen. gojo is sprawled on the floor, clutching his head amid an array of toppled pots and pans.

“oh my god, gojo! are you okay?” you ask, crouching beside him.

he winces, his cheeks flushed as he avoids your gaze. “yeah… sorry. slipped on a squished strawberry. decided to candy all the fruit in the fridge. way too ambitious.”

you glance at the counter: sugar everywhere, an empty box of strawberries leaking juice, and a pan of candied grapes slowly dripping onto the floor. gojo props himself up on his elbows, surveying the chaos with wide eyes.

“damn,” he mutters. “didn’t realize how messy I got.”

you help him to his feet, brushing sugar off his clothes. suguru appears in the doorway, flushed and disheveled, clutching a pillow to his front.

“wish I could help, satoru,” he deadpans. “but I’ve got a situation.” he gestures vaguely at himself. 

“also, I want to strangle you.”

gojo raises his hands defensively. “spare me, please!” he turns to you, “scaary.” 

he smirks, whispering “look out for suguru’s choking kink.”

suguru’s expression darkens. “I’m going to kill you.”

unable to resist, you squat back down and pop a candied grape into your mouth, savoring the sugary burst of flavor. at least something good came out of this chaos. gojo joins you, stealing a grape and offering one to you in return.

suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I really need to get my own place.”

[liyue-harbour]

just this once (again)

gojo satoru x reader. friends with benefit, non-curse au.

summary: satoru wasn't supposed to stay this late— him dropping by your place was routine by now, just like the unspoken rules you two had followed since crossing that line years ago. friends since childhood, friends with benefits since... well, neither of you cared to pinpoint when.

warning: a little nsfw, minors dni

the city hummed outside the window, the soft glow of neon lights casting fragmented patterns across the hardwood floor of your apartment. the faint scent of his cologne— something woodsy and just a little smoky— lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of freshly opened beer and the warmth of lingering summer heat.

you sat cross-legged on the couch, one hand gripping the neck of a sweating beer bottle while the other aimlessly flipped through a magazine you weren’t actually reading, a halfhearted playlist played in the background.

satoru leaned against the counter separating the kitchen from the living room, arms crossed, his gaze entirely too sharp for someone who was supposed to be relaxed. his hair was damp from an earlier shower, a few loose strands sticking to his forehead. he was in a plain black shirt and gray sweatpants, the kind of casual look that should’ve felt unremarkable but instead felt maddeningly intentional, like he knew exactly how good he looked.

“do you ever sit still?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.

“do you ever stop asking questions?” satoru shot back, grinning. the kind of grin that managed to be both teasing and infuriatingly charming.

“touché.” you went back to your magazine, feigning nonchalance, but you could feel his eyes lingering on you. it wasn’t unusual— satoru had always been a flirt, his attention as natural and effortless as breathing. but tonight, it felt heavier, less playful.

the silence stretched again, and you hated it. not because you didn’t like silence, but because silence with satoru had a way of digging under your skin. he had a knack for looking at you like he was peeling away layers you didn’t know you had.

“you’ve been weird all night,” he said finally, his voice breaking the tension like a knife. he pushed off the counter and waked over, plopping down on the couch beside you. his body heat was immediate, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“i’m not weird,” you said, still not looking at him.

“you’re weird,” he insisted, leaning in closer. “you’ve got that look.”

“what look?”

“the one you get when you’re either really pissed off or really turned on.”

your head whipped toward him, heat rushing to your face. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and you didn’t deny it.” satoru smirked, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back of the couch, his fingers barely grazing your shoulder. his legs spread out like he owned the whole space, the picture of infuriating confidence.

“seriously, what your problem tonight? did some guy piss you off?” his tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, something possessive lurking beneath the surface.

“no,” you said quickly, too quickly.

his eyes narrowed, his smirk deepening. “ah, so it was a guy.”

you groaned, setting your beer down on the coffee table with a clink. “it’s nothing.”

“doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“satoru-”

“ careful,” his voice low and laced with amusement. “you’re starting to get angry…or is my best friend really keen on having hate sex tonight?”

the words hung in the air, heavy, and your breath hitched despite yourself. “you’re such a jerk,” you said, but your voice lacked bite, betraying the flicker of his words sparked in you.

“and yet, you’re still here,” he countered, leaning closer, his eyes dark and teasing. satoru’s hand slide along the back of the couch until his fingers grazed your neck, a light, teasing touch that sent shivers down your spine.

“satoru,” you warned, but it came out softer than you intended, more like a plea than a threat.

he tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to solve. “you’re always so tough, so composed. but right now…” he let the sentence hang, his thumb brushing lightly against the curve of your jaw.

your breath caught, heart pounding against your ribs. you should’ve pulled away, should’ve told him off, but instead, you stayed rooted to the spot, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“you’re impossible,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“and you’re beautiful when you’re mad,” he shot back, grin softening into something more genuine, more dangerous.

before you could respond— before you could even think— satoru closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as much a challenge as it was a question.

you kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him like he was the only solid thing in a world spinning off its axis. satoru’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap, the kiss deepening into something hotter, more desperate.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, foreheads resting against each other. “this is a bad idea,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“probably,” he agreed, his hands tightening on your waist. “but since when have we cared about that?”

you hated how much sense that made.

and his lips found yours again, all thoughts of right and wrong disappeared, swallowed by the heat of the moment.

© liyue-harbour 2025 masterlist

[b38rman]

IS IT NEW YEAR’S YET? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ollie Bearman

tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, meet-cute, beach fic, holidays, strangers to lovers, fluff

synopsis - You’d originally planned the trip as a romantic getaway, but now, stuck alone at a beachside bar and haunted by what could have been, you chose to face the season head-on. Then, a chance encounter with a charming stranger and a stolen drink turns the night on its head.

rating - teen and up

warnings - alcohol consumption, swearing

a/n - the five-minute drink and the overall setting is loosely based on a place called flotsam and jetsam in la union ! here is what the five-minute drink is and here is what the vibe is like 🏝️❤️ merry christmas and happy new year everyone (: based on the sabrina carpenter song of the same name

The holiday cheer felt more like a taunt than an escape. The bar’s radio played another overplayed Christmas song against the crash of the waves in the background, and you fought the urge to groan.

The whole trip was starting to feel like a mistake—everything about this season just reminded you of what you didn’t have. Couples crowded the beach outside, string lights twinkling over beach blankets like some cruel reminder. December was supposed to be magical, but all it felt like was a prison, locking you in with your own thoughts.

“Why am I even here?” you muttered under your breath. Maybe it would all be easier if you could just fast-forward to next year.

This was supposed to be a different kind of trip—a romantic getaway for two, a toast to the year that was, and everything that could have been. You’d booked it far in advance, fighting for one of the few coveted rooms in this hotel with those views. A balcony overlooking the endless stretch of perfect blue ocean, the kind of place designed to take your breath away. It wasn’t easy to get, but back then, it had felt worth it.

You could still remember the way your ex had smiled when you showed him the reservation far before the -ber months. And now? Now that smile only lingered in fragments, fading into the glow of your phone screen as you scrolled past holiday posts you didn’t want to see. The reservation had been non-refundable, but somehow it felt like that wasn’t the only reason you’d kept it.

“One five-minute drink,” the bartender announced, sliding the glass across the counter. You muttered a quiet thanks, your mind elsewhere, watching the waves beyond the window as the opening chords of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” replaced the Christmas music.

A moment later, you reached for your drink—only to find a distinct lack of one.

“Oh, that’s not good,” a British voice muttered beside you. You turned to find a guy holding your drink, his brows furrowed as he realized his mistake. “I don’t suppose this is mine?”

“It’s not,” you said flatly, crossing your arms. You could almost ignore how his hair fell perfectly in waves atop his head or how his eyes glistened like the endless shoreline. His shirt fit him well too—damn it, you were supposed to be furious.

He winced and set it down like it might bite him. “Sorry, I thought service was absurdly quick here. Guess I’ve just nicked your drink.” He smiled sheepishly, an apologetic tilt to his head.

“That was supposed to be my five-minute drink,” you said, gesturing to the glass.

“Five-minute drink?” he repeated, looking intrigued.

“It’s their strongest drink,” you explained. “And the rule is you’ve got to finish it before the song ends.” You tilted your head toward the speakers as Axl Rose’s voice hit another high note.

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Well, that’s quite a rule for a drink. I’ve ruined it for you, haven’t I?” He waved to the bartender before you could protest. “Let me get you another one—you’ve got time to set a proper record before the guitar solo.”

You let him order another five-minute drink for you, and when the bartender brought him a glass filled with what you guessed was his own—dark, smoky, and definitely a classic old-fashioned—you smirked and took it in stride. Once the familiar pink concoction of your own drink arrived, you humored him with a brief “cheers” motion and knocked it back in record time, finishing in far less than five minutes—closer to five seconds, really.

He raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed. “I don’t suppose I’ve had enough to ask why you’re here downing your five-minute drinks all by yourself?”

A laugh escaped you, though it was bitter, not amused. “I guess some people thought I was better off alone this season.”

He paused, his gaze softening as he studied you, the edge of his smile fading slightly. Something in his expression lingered, as if something clicked, but he didn’t press—just kept his thoughts to himself as you quietly sipped your drink, feeling strangely lighter than a few minutes ago.

“Ex?” he asked, gently probing, clearly giving you the space you needed to decide how much to say.

You nodded, letting the edge of a grim smile touch your lips. “Yup. Well, it’s a blessing and a curse that he couldn’t even wait ‘til the air got colder to break up with me.”

For a moment, it felt like you’d given him a little more than you intended—an insight into just how much this holiday season was grinding you down. But, for some reason, his silence felt comforting instead of heavy, a rare feeling among a sea of well-meaning but annoying sympathy.

He shifted in his seat, as if deciding to shift the subject just enough. “I’m Ollie, by the way,” he said after a beat, offering his hand. You gave him a sideways glance but took his hand nonetheless, feeling the casual warmth of it. “I’m here with my family, actually. Parents are off doing their thing, and my siblings are off… well, let’s just say they’re not big fans of hotel bars.” His smile was wry, clearly unbothered by the family activity you might’ve expected to be mandatory for holiday time.

“Ah, the classic ‘doing my own thing while the family enjoys their own’ situation,” you said with a teasing half-smile. “Sounds like a good deal. I’ll trade you—family chaos for solitude, no problem.”

Ollie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s not always that simple, but yeah, I figured I’d come check out the vibe here… and, you know, after seeing someone finish that drink in five seconds, I thought I could probably take a break myself. The family does seem to want some space.” His smile deepened, the kind of easy, friendly grin that was making you reconsider the chance you’d almost passed on by leaving earlier.

“You’re right,” you replied, setting your drink down and meeting his gaze. “It’s a bit of a mess if I’m being honest. But maybe this whole ‘holiday escape’ idea wasn’t a total wash.”

“Well,” Ollie said with a teasing twinkle in his eyes, “I’d say it’s officially turning into a good night. Just don’t finish your next drink in five seconds… don’t want to set the bar too high for me.”

You raised an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You’d be surprised, Ollie. Five-second drinks are practically my thing.”

He leaned back in his seat with a mischievous smirk. “Guess I’ll just have to find something else to keep you entertained.”

You looped your arm through his as he guided you back to your room. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him—especially not when the alcohol buzzed in your head, making you giggly and a little off-balance. But there was something about him that felt trustworthy, like the one stable anchor in the midst of the chaos. He seemed to have a solid head on his shoulders, even though he was caught up in the same holiday madness as you.

“Your ex-boyfriend must have been real boring if he left you while you were this fun,” Ollie said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone.

You tried to suppress the small pleased smile that pulled at your lips, not wanting to be too obvious.

“And you’re fun, huh?” You poked him lightly in the rib, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Only good reviews so far from what I’m seeing.” He met your gaze with that same steady look, and for a moment, it was just the two of you—no pretense. “Let me guess, he was some super-serious finance guy?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. “Shut up. Like your job is any better.”

Ollie slowed his steps, pausing in the hallway with a thoughtful look on his face, like he was weighing something. It was brief, but you could tell he was considering what to say next.

“Not really boring no,” he said, his voice softer now. “Well, I’d say my job doesn’t really define me does it?”

“Yeah, well, people don’t always fit the box,” you quipped, still feeling that comfortable sense of ease between you, despite the night’s whirlwind.

As the door to your room neared, Ollie paused just before stepping inside, his hands still holding onto yours. He looked at you like he had one last thing he wanted to say—and then it all happened in a moment.

He kissed you.

It was warm, slow, lingering. Not a rush to start the year or check something off your list. It was simple—something genuine in the press of his lips against yours. When he pulled away, he smirked slightly.

“But it isn’t New Year’s yet,” he said, his voice low with a soft edge.

You hummed in reply, a smirk playing on your lips as you tugged him closer, brushing your mouth against his once more before answering.

“Don’t need it to be.”

With that, you pulled him into your room, the door clicking shut behind you, and a wave of unexpected excitement took hold.

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into—but for once, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

[causeimhappinesss]

Confidentiality (part 1)

Warnings: one night stand (no smut), manipulation, angst, drama, unplanned pregnancy

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x reader (Joseph Quinn x reader but you won't see her)

Words: 2,2k

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language (I’m french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

PART 2

-

The energy in the ballroom has shifted. The earlier buzz with the endless chatter, the effervescent laughter, the clinking of champagne glasses, has dulled into something softer, more intimate. Conversations have turned low and private, exchanged in shadowed corners and over the last remnants of half-finished drinks. The chandeliers overhead cast a golden glow, but it’s dimmer now, as if even they are growing tired. The scent of expensive perfume still lingers in the air, mixing with the deeper notes of whiskey and the faint, smoky trace of extinguished candles. The waitstaff moves silently between guests, clearing away glasses, smoothing tablecloths, restoring order.

I exhale, my shoulders dropping as I roll my neck from side to side. The ache in my feet has settled into a dull throb, a reminder of how many hours I’ve spent weaving through the crowd, making sure everything runs seamlessly.

Making sure he has everything he needs.

Joseph.

I spot him near the bar.

He’s alone, one hand braced on the polished wood, the other rubbing the bridge of his nose. His tuxedo jacket is missing, abandoned somewhere between handshakes and photo ops. The crisp white of his dress shirt is slightly rumpled. His dark eyes are shining while he scans his surroundings.

He looks… worn.

Not drunk, not exactly. But there’s a weight in the way he stands, a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there earlier. I move toward him, the hum of the room fading into the background, and I clear my throat.

“You okay?”

He lifts his head at my voice, blinking as if pulling himself back to the moment. His gaze finds mine, and up close, I can see the tiredness etched into the lines around his eyes.

“Yeah…” he says, though his voice is quieter now, rougher than earlier. His weight shifts slightly, like he’s steadying himself.

“Just… a headache. And I think one of the drinks hit harder than expected.”

His words come slow, deliberate. I study him for a second, noting the slight flush creeping up his neck, the way his fingers flex against the edge of the bar. Warm skin, glassy eyes. Not wasted, but close enough to feel it. Does he know how gorgeous and magnetic he is? No wonder so many women dream to meet him and especially to date him… As quickly as possible, I shake those thoughts away.

Yeah, I guess the champagne is hitting harder than I anticipated!

His team is still engaged in conversation a few feet away, laughter bubbling up between them. They haven’t noticed him pulling back. Or maybe they have and assume he’s fine. Alas, he doesn’t look like he wants to be fine right now.

“You want to head up?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then, after a pause, he gives a small nod.

“Would you…?” He exhales a soft laugh, barely there, as if amused by his own hesitation.

“Just walk me up? Make sure I don’t get lost in some hallway on the way?”

His attempt at humor doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but there’s something else there. Something quieter.

Gratitude.

Trust.

My stomach tenses in a way I don’t fully understand.

I should direct him to someone else, one of his assistants, maybe, or someone from the team who’s actually on payroll for this.

But I don’t.

Instead, I nod.

“Of course.”

The ride up is quiet. The soft chime of the elevator punctuates the silence, the polished brass doors reflecting our figures back at us. Joseph leans against the mirrored wall, eyes closing for a second before he straightens.

“Sorry… I usually handle these things better.” He mutters.

“These things?”

He tilts his head, a ghost of amusement passing over his features.

“Long nights. Too many people. Too many drinks I didn’t really want.”

I watch him, the way his fingers flex against the railing. The tension still sits in his shoulders, in the faint crease between his brows.

“You don’t have to apologize for being human, you know. Your body is probably just very tired.”

His lips twitch, like he wants to smile, but it seems he doesn’t quite have the energy. The chime sounds again. The doors slide open to a quiet hallway, thick carpet swallowing our footsteps as we step out. Then, with a card, he unlocks a door and waves me to follow him inside.

For a second, silence settles. A thick, heavy quiet, disrupted only by the distant hum of the city through the window. The suite is dimly lit, a soft amber glow spilling from the wall sconces, stretching shadows across the sleek furniture. The air carries the faint scent of cologne and the sharper bite of whiskey, remnants of the evening clinging to his skin.

Joseph exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“Well…” he says, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “That was an evening.”

I let out a breathy laugh.

“It definitely had its moments.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand why people assume actors love these things. Fancy rooms, stiff conversations, pretending to care about a canapé that tastes like cardboard.”

I smirk.

“So you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy every second of making small talk with strangers who only know you from their Netflix queue?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Shocking, I know.”

His fingers brush over his temple, rubbing lightly.

“It’s all a bit much sometimes.” He sighs, before he licked his lips.

I watch him for a moment. The exhaustion sits deeper in his features, in the faint crease between his brows, in the way his large shoulders don’t quite relax even now.

“Well, thanks for making sure I didn’t pass out in the elevator. You didn’t have to.”

I shrug and chuckles, seeing how the big man saw me as his “savior”, which seems a bit ridiculous.

 “It’s technically my job.”

His lips quirk, but there’s something softer behind it.

“Still. I appreciate it.”

He moves toward the armchair, shrugging off his jacket as he does. The fabric slides down his arms, revealing the crisp white of his dress shirt, the sleeves already slightly rolled. He tosses the jacket onto the back of the chair before undoing the first few buttons at his collar, exhaling slowly as if he can finally breathe.

I shift my weight, suddenly aware of the way my heels dig into my feet. With a small, relieved sigh, I reach down and slip them off, curling my toes against the plush carpet. A shudder of relief rolls through me.

“That bad?” Joseph teases, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You have no idea.”

I flex my foot, wincing slightly.

“I think I lost circulation somewhere around dessert.”

He grins, leaning against the table, watching me. The air between us shifts. Not tense, not yet. Just different.

“Drink before you go?” he asks, already reaching for the small bar cart.

I hesitate. I should say no. I should call it a night, slip back into the professionalism I’ve worn all evening. But then his fingers graze mine as he hands me the glass. A slow, deliberate touch. Just enough to send a shiver running down my spine. I look up. His eyes are already on me, watching, waiting. The glass is warm in my palm, but his touch lingers longer than it should. The silence stretches, a beat too long. A look too much. He steps forward slightly, close enough that I catch the faint trace of whiskey on his breath, the warmth of him seeping into the space between us.

“Maybe you should go…” he murmurs.

A challenge flickers in his gaze.

“Unless you don’t feel like it.”

My pulse trips. His voice is quiet, but it hooks into something deep, something reckless.

I should leave.

I don’t.

His fingers brush against mine again, barely there. A whisper of contact, but enough to send heat curling low in my stomach.

Something shifts.

The space between us disappears.

*

The scent of coffee lingers in the air before I even open my eyes. Warm, rich, slightly burnt. Something sweeter lingers in the air, like pastries, maybe fruits, or the last trace of cologne on the sheets. The bed feels too good, huge. I shift slightly, the sheets cool where he no longer lies, twisted in soft folds around my bare skin. My body aches, not unpleasantly, but insistently. A reminder of last night. My eyes remain closed for a moment longer, breathing in the stillness. If I don’t move, if I don’t look, I can pretend the moment won’t slip away.

But then I hear it.

The faint clink of porcelain. The subtle rustle of fabric. And I know I’m not alone.

I open my eyes.

Joseph sits on the edge of the bed, one leg bent, the other foot planted firmly on the floor. He’s already dressed? At least partially. His black pants hang loose on his hips, the hem of his white dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the hollow of his throat. Wrinkled fabric clings to his frame, sleeves rolled up carelessly.

He looks up from his phone, as if sensing my gaze.

“Morning.” he murmurs. His voice is rough, lower than usual.

I swallow and rub my eyes. The lack of sleep is hitting more than I expected… It’s not like I had a lot of sleep.

“Morning.”

My throat is dry. I push myself up onto my elbows, the sheet sliding down my body. His eyes flicker briefly downward before he glances away. I follow his gaze to the bedside table. A silver tray sits there, a pot of coffee, two cups, a small selection of pastries. Not extravagant. Not intimate. Just fuel.

“You… Uh, ordered breakfast?” I ask.

He nods, picking up his coffee.

“Figured you’d need something before heading out.”

Heading out.

The words settle uncomfortably in my chest.

I reach for a croissant, tearing it apart carefully. Flaky layers crumble beneath my fingertips. The butter melts against the warmth of my skin. We eat in silence. Not awkward, but not easy either. Like something unspoken lingers between us, just out of reach. Joseph scrolls through his phone, thumb moving absently. The quiet stretches. Something about it sits wrong. I sip my coffee, letting the bitterness coat my tongue before setting the cup down.

“Mind if I shower?”

His gaze flickers up, as if surprised I’m still here.

“Go ahead. Towels are in the cabinet.”

I slip out of bed, wrapping the sheet around me as I walk toward the bathroom. My dress lies in a crumpled heap near the door. I don’t look at it.

Not long after that, the shower is hot, almost scalding. Steam curls around me as I stand under the spray, letting the water rush over my skin. My body hums from the heat, muscles sore in places I don’t want to think about. I press my palms against the cool tiles, inhaling deep, steady breaths.

Last night shouldn’t have happened.

I know this.

And yet, in the dark, with his mouth on my skin, his hands gripping my hips, none of it had felt wrong. I let the water wash over me a little longer before finally shutting it off. By the time I step out, the mirror is fogged, the air thick with the scent of his shampoo. I grab a towel, wrapping it tightly around me before opening the door…

I freeze.

Joseph sits on the armchair by the window, a pen in his hand, a piece of paper resting on the table beside him. His face is unreadable. Detached. Cool. He taps the pen against the paper, then gestures toward it.

“I need you to sign this.”

I frown, stepping closer. Water drips from my hair onto the plush carpet. The towel clings to my skin.

A contract.

No.

A confidentiality agreement.

A slow, heavy weight settles, in my stomach.

I stare at the words, then at him. My fingers tighten around the edge of the towel.

“You’re joking.”

His expression doesn’t change. He looks at me with his big brown eyes as if I was too dumb to understand his words.

“It’s standard.”

“Standard…” I repeat, my throat tight.

I let the word roll on my tongue, tasting the weight of it, the hollowness. I laugh, the sound so sharp and humorless.

“Right. Because sleeping with me was just another PR risk to manage, wasn’t it?”

His jaw tightens and he frowns.

“That’s not…” He exhales, shifting slightly. “It’s not personal, okay?”

Not personal.

A simple thing, really. Just another signature on another paper, as forgettable as a bar tab. I reach for the pen. My pulse pounds in my ears as I sign my name with slow, deliberate strokes, each letter carved into the paper like an open wound. And then, just beneath it, I scrawl:

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on bragging.”

Joseph watches me. He says nothing.

I cap the pen, setting it down with more force than necessary, then straighten. The towel feels suffocating now, heavy against my skin.

“Thanks for breakfast. And the hospitality.” I say, my voice even. Almost pleasant.

I move past him, grabbing my dress from the floor. The fabric is cold against my fingers, the weight of last night still clinging to it. I step into it without care for grace or poise. My hands don’t shake as I zip it up. I don’t look at him when I reach for my heels. I don’t say anything when I walk toward the door.

Of course, he doesn’t stop me.

Why would he?

I was just to stupid to hook up with the “great and amazing” Joseph Quinn.

-

PART 2

-

Hey! Here’s the first chapter of the series I had announced about my drama/angst idea with Joseph Quinn. Now, there's so much tea that I don’t even know if I’ll continue… Let me know if it’s worth it!

Taglist : @ali-r3n

[goldenhazelnut]

En Pointe || Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc had always appreciated the electric hum of Monte Carlo’s nightlife. The city’s glittering skyline, the clinking of champagne flutes, and the rhythm of deep house music were a familiar backdrop. Yet, tonight, his mind was elsewhere as he wandered into a discreet, high-end club tucked away on a quiet corner of the principality.

He wasn’t a regular here, but the place had a reputation for its elegance and exclusivity, far from the clichés of a smoky dive. The club’s atmosphere was dimly lit, sleek, and intimate, with a stage in the center of the room that seemed almost magnetic in its pull.

The moment the spotlight lit up the stage, Charles froze. She was there again—the pole dancer.

She moved with a grace he’d never seen before, her body flowing like liquid gold under the spotlight. Her routine wasn’t just a performance; it was art. Strength, poise, and elegance combined into something breathtaking. He recognized her instantly. He’d seen her a few times before—once at a private event and again through a chance visit with friends. Each time, her presence left an indelible mark on his mind.

Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light as she twirled effortlessly, every movement precise yet ethereal. Her confidence wasn’t arrogance; it was quiet power. And the way she smiled at the audience—not coy, but genuine—made her seem untouchable yet entirely real.

Charles’s pulse quickened as she moved. There was something magnetic about her, something beyond her beauty. It was her focus, her artistry. She performed as though no one else in the room existed, completely immersed in her world. And, for a moment, Charles wished he could be a part of it.

When her performance ended, the audience erupted into applause, but Charles remained seated, rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes away.

For the next hour, he barely heard the conversations at his table. His friends nudged him, teased him, but he didn’t care. He was still replaying the performance in his head, the way she made him feel—like time had stopped.

When the crowd thinned out, he found himself wandering toward the bar. His thoughts raced. He wasn’t the type to interrupt someone’s evening, but tonight, he felt compelled. Then he saw her—standing by the bar, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she chatted with the bartender. She was out of her stage outfit, dressed casually in jeans and a black tank top, her hair tied back.

He hesitated, his heart hammering in his chest. He was Charles Leclerc—confident on the track but suddenly unsure here. Gathering his courage, he approached.

“Hi,” he started, his voice softer than usual.

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his. They were warm, curious.

“Hi,” she replied, her smile lighting up her face.

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, a rare sign of nervousness. “I’ve seen you perform a few times. You’re incredible.”

Her smile widened, and she tilted her head slightly. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

He introduced himself, though he didn’t need to. She chuckled softly. “I know who you are, Charles. Monte Carlo isn’t that big.”

He laughed, relieved by her easy demeanor. “Fair point. But I don’t know your name.”

“Lena,” she offered, extending her hand.

Her grip was firm, her touch sending a spark through him. They talked—first about her performances, then about their lives. He learned she had a background in ballet but fell in love with pole dancing for the freedom it gave her. She spoke with passion, her eyes lighting up with every word.

Time slipped away as they talked, and for the first time in a long while, Charles felt like he was truly connecting with someone beyond the surface. There was no pretense, no fame, just two people sharing a moment.

As the night wore on, he found himself smiling more than he had in weeks.

When it was time to leave, he hesitated. “Would it be okay if I saw you again?”

She looked at him for a moment, her gaze searching his face. Then she smiled. “I think I’d like that, Charles.”

And just like that, under the soft glow of the club’s lights, something began—a connection as electric as the city itself.

[homunculus-argument]

handy red goffik smoky eye tutorial: OK so a smoky eye is just a punk gradient. it's a gradient that gave up and went to do something else.

you're gonna want like 3 colours, highlight lowlight background, they just have to blend semi well (light grey dark grey red, for example).

first you apply your lightest colour just like all over, up to your browbone. background goes on the eyelid but not the browbone unless you want it there, then dark on the outer corner, highlight on top of the inner eyelids. now you just blend it outward from the highlight with your fingers (go in one direction or it fucks up the gradient). mess it up a little bit et voila: smoky eye.

the most important thing is to have fun and be yourself. channel cher. be cunty with it. later you can experiment with mascara and different eyeliners, but try this way until you get the trick down with how strong your gradient should be.

hope this helps 🤘rock on!

Neat. Does this also work on hooded eyelids?

[bkgsbratt]

Sweet Like Candy

Warnings: cursing, light smut, probably mischaracterization (If I’m missing any warnings please tell me!🫶)

Background: Bakugo hated sweet things, he thought they were a gateway to give people diabetes. So it wasn’t weird for his class to see him not even eat more than half a slice of his own birthday cake. It’s not like he hated sugar, he just didn’t like the gross aftertaste in his mouth, the way his hands get all sticky depending on what he’s eating (fuckin neat freak), the aching in his stomach that could come if he ate too much, what idiot would put themselves through that much torture just for 5 seconds of deliciousness? You. You would. So when Class 1-A decided to visit a sweet shop to celebrate a big rescue, best believe he grumbled about the suggestion until he arrived and saw- you.

After their latest mission, Class 1-A decided to celebrate, and someone suggested a sweets shop. Bakugo’s reaction was immediate and definitely wasn’t sweet.

“A damn candy store?” he grumbled, arms crossed, glaring at everyone like they’d betrayed him. “We just kicked ass, and you wanna celebrate with a sugar high?”

“Oh, come on, Bakugo!” Mina insisted, practically dragging him along despite his protests. “It’ll be fun! This place has everything—chocolates, pastries, even dark chocolate. You might like something!”

With a scowl, he stepped into The Sugar Nest. Pastel pinks and blues covered the walls, fairy lights twinkling around the room. The warm scent of baked goods filled the air, and Bakugo looked like he’d just entered his worst nightmare.

And then he noticed you. You were behind the counter, handing a cupcake to a kid who immediately took a big bite, grinning as frosting smudged his nose. When you looked up at the group, you greeted everyone with a bright smile. Class 1-A stampeded toward the displays, but Bakugo kept his distance, arms crossed, shooting death glares at the cakes and cookies.

You noticed his sour expression and couldn’t help but tease. “Not a fan of sweets?”

Bakugo scoffed. “Hell no. I don’t eat sugar-coated crap,” he muttered, practically daring you to argue.

You didn’t back down. Instead, you leaned on the counter, smirking. “Maybe you’ve just never had the right kind.” You reached into the display and picked out a small square of dark chocolate with sea salt. “Here. Dark chocolate—no sticky fingers, no sugar overload. Just the good stuff.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him a grenade. But he took the chocolate, biting into it like he wanted to hate it. Only he didn’t. The bitterness and salt were perfectly balanced, with no sugary aftertaste.

“It’s… fine,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

“See?” you teased. “Not all sweets are just sugar bombs.”

From that day on, Bakugo told himself he was only at the shop to “keep the idiots in check.” But every time Class 1-A ended up at The Sugar Nest, he somehow found himself in front of the counter, accepting whatever dark chocolate creation you’d saved for him. Then, one day, he came in alone. You noticed him walking in, arms crossed, pretending it was a coincidence.

“Back again, huh?” you greeted him, a small grin on your face.

He shrugged, attempting his usual scowl. “Nothing better to do,” he muttered.

You handed him a dark chocolate truffle dusted with smoky sea salt. He took a bite, his eyes narrowing slightly as he savored the intense, smoky flavor.

“So, do you really hate sweets, or do you just hate everything on principle?” you teased, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Most sweets suck,” he replied immediately, then shrugged. “Not all of ‘em.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Guess that’s as close to a compliment as I’ll get.”

He rolled his eyes, but you saw a flicker of a smile, which felt like a victory.

In the weeks that followed, Bakugo kept showing up, sometimes with his classmates, sometimes on his own. Each time, he’d lean on the counter, muttering about whatever new treat you handed him. You fell into a routine, chatting about anything and everything, and he started bringing things for you, too—a rare spice he thought you’d like, an herb he’d grown, even a small cactus he’d claimed was “just in the way.” He’d hand them over with a gruff “figure you’d know what to do with this,” and each time, your face lit up, and he seemed secretly pleased.

One afternoon, he stayed after the shop had closed, leaning on the counter as you finished cleaning up.

“What?” you asked, noticing his intense gaze.

He shrugged. “Didn’t know you’d be workin’ this late.”

“Well, I own the place. Sometimes, I’m here all night,” you replied, glancing at him. “Why? You sticking around for something?”

He paused, his usual glare softening. “Maybe,” he muttered, looking away, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Gathering your courage, you handed him a last treat—a dark chocolate infused with chili. As he bit into it, his eyes widened, the smoky heat mingling with the bitter chocolate. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t think I’d like this.”

“Oh?” you teased, stepping closer. “So you don’t hate all sweets after all?”

He looked at you, his cheeks tinged with pink. His hand brushed against yours almost unconsciously. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “you’re the only sweet thing I’ll ever want to taste,” his voice dropping as his gaze fixed on you.

Your heart skipped as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was unexpectedly soft, his rough exterior melting as his hand found your waist. You could taste the chili chocolate on his lips, and you smiled, feeling his grip tighten.

When he pulled back, he smirked, his eyes glinting. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though the way he lingered, his hand still holding yours, told you everything you needed to know.

You smiled, whispering, “Guess you don’t hate all sweets after all.”

[sombaf]

I see fire (let me burn)

The room hums with warmth, the remnants of the evening curling into the shadows like the fading embers of a fire, still glowing but no longer roaring. Cards lie scattered across the table, the glasses drained and abandoned, catching the last shimmer of light as the night deepens. The intoxicating scent of the alien liquor still lingers in the air, sharp and heady, mixing with the richer, darker notes of Lena’s red wine—a perfume that clings to the room, stirring something molten and untamed in Kara’s chest.

But all of that—the remnants of the night, the echoes of conversation—slips into the background, eclipsed by the presence of Lena standing just a few feet away. Bathed in the soft glow of the dim light, Lena’s dark red blouse shimmers like the glowing embers of a fire, clinging to her body in ways that make Kara’s breath falter. It feels as if the night itself seems to hold its breath, as though the very air between them has thickened, charged with an energy that buzzes just beneath the surface, waiting for release.

Kara feels it—a pulse of heat, slow and deliberate, building with every glance, every second that passes. It isn’t just desire; it’s something deeper, something sacred, as though Lena is the flame and Kara stands at the precipice, teetering on the edge, feeling the heat lick at her skin but fearing to let it fully consume her. The fire has been smoldering all night, but now, with the room empty and only the two of them remaining, it feels inevitable, like a spark waiting to ignite and burn them both.

Lena moves, each step deliberate, her presence magnetic, pulling Kara closer with every shift of her body. There is something almost ritualistic in the way Lena gathers the empty glasses, her fingers brushing the smooth surfaces with a reverence that feels intimate, even in the simplicity of the act. But it isn’t the glasses or the table that holds Kara’s focus—it’s Lena. The weight of her gaze, the way her eyes flick up to meet Kara’s every few seconds, tests the boundaries of the tension that hangs between them, tightening the space, inch by inch.

Kara’s breath hitches as Lena’s eyes linger, tracing over her like a caress, pulling her deeper into the fire. Her body responds before her mind can catch up, every nerve alive, every sense sharpened by the weight of Lena’s attention. It is overwhelming, but in the best way—like standing too close to a flame and feeling the heat seep into your skin, knowing you should step back but not wanting to.

“You didn’t have to stay and help,” Kara finally says, her voice lower, huskier than she intends, thick with something she isn’t ready to name.

Lena’s head lifts, her eyes locking onto Kara’s with a sharp, piercing intensity that sends a tremor through her. Her lips curve into a slow smile, soft but edged with something more dangerous, like the flicker of flames in a hearth. “I didn’t mind,” she replies, her voice smooth, smoky, curling around Kara like tendrils of fire, pulling her closer. “Besides, I think you could use the company.”

The words settle over Kara like a challenge, feeding the fire already threatening to break free inside her. She swallows hard, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter as if grounding herself, but it does nothing to cool the burn spreading through her veins. Her hands move on their own, pouring the last of the liquor into her glass. The liquid burns as it slides down her throat, but it is nothing compared to the burn that Lena ignites within her. It’s Lena who sets her alight. Always Lena.

Lena’s movements are slow, deliberate, each step feeling like a dance, drawing Kara closer without ever touching her. And when their fingers brush as Lena hands Kara a dish, the world seems to tilt. The contact, as brief as it is, sends a spark of electricity through Kara’s body, a jolt that ignites a blaze she can no longer ignore. Her breath catches, her pulse quickens, and for a moment, everything narrows down to that one touch—the warmth of Lena’s fingers against her own, the softness of skin against skin, like kindling finally meeting the flame.

Kara freezes, her heart hammering in her chest as the fire inside her roars to life, consuming every rational thought. The heat between them is unbearable now, the space between them too small, too charged with the tension that has been building all night. Her body screams for release, but she hesitates, caught in the burn of restraint, afraid of what will happen if she lets go. She wants to let go, she is yearning to surrender to whatever this burning ache is. Her mind races, battling between the need to give in and the fear of what it means if she does.

Lena’s voice, low and teasing, cuts through the haze, but beneath it is something darker, something that smolders like a slow-burning flame. “You’re staring,” she says, her tone playful, but her eyes are molten, daring Kara to step closer, to let the fire consume her.

Kara’s breath stutters, her throat dry as she struggles to find her voice. “I didn’t mean to…” she begins, but the words falter on her lips, her mind too clouded by the heat of Lena’s nearness to form a coherent thought.

Before she can finish, Lena moves closer, her smile deepening, transforming into something more dangerous, more intoxicating. The space between them is almost nonexistent now, the air thick with unspoken desire. Kara’s hands grip the counter behind her, again, desperately trying to ground herself as Lena’s presence overwhelms her senses, pulling her into an orbit she can’t escape. It’s too much, too intense, too perfect, too Lena—and yet, it’s not enough.

“Kara…” Lena’s voice is a whisper, soft and smoky, her breath warm against Kara’s skin. “Why do you always hold back?”

Kara’s heart slams against her ribs, her body trembling with the force of her restraint. She wants—needs—to close the space between them, to feel the heat of Lena’s skin against her own, but something keeps her rooted in place, the fear of losing control gnawing at the edges of her desire. She can feel the fire burning inside her, but she is terrified of letting it consume her, terrified of what it will mean if she does.

Lena steps closer still, her hand lifting to brush against Kara’s jaw, her touch so light it sends shivers racing down Kara’s spine. Her fingertips trace a slow path, lingering as they sweep over Kara’s lips—soft and warm, her skin barely grazing the fullness of them. Kara’s breath falters, her mouth slightly open, and Lena’s touch follows the curve of her lower lip, feather-light but filled with intent. The sensation sends a wave of heat through Kara’s body, making her pulse quicken, as if Lena were igniting a fire with the gentlest stroke. “You don’t have to,” Lena whispers, her voice a breath against Kara’s lips, her eyes dark and smoldering, filled with a quiet intensity that leaves Kara utterly breathless. “Not with me.”

Kara’s resolve begins to unravel, fraying at the edges, until it finally shatters. The restraint she has clung to, the walls she has built around herself, crumble under the weight of Lena’s words. The fire that has been simmering beneath her skin explodes, and in that moment, she gives in, surging forward as her lips crash against Lena’s in a kiss that is raw, desperate, a release of everything she has held back for so long.

Lena responds instantly, her hands sliding into Kara’s hair, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until it becomes something more—something primal, something sacred. Kara can taste the wine on Lena’s lips, the sharp, sweet tang of it mingling with the fire that burns between them, and it is intoxicating, overwhelming.

Their bodies press together, the heat between them growing with each heartbeat, each caress. Kara’s hands, trembling slightly, find the edge of Lena’s blouse. Her fingers hesitate for a fraction of a second, feeling the silken fabric beneath her touch. She swallows hard, her breath uneven as she begins to undo the buttons, one by one, with a slow reverence, like unveiling something sacred. Each release of a button feels like an offering, a prayer whispered into the quiet night air, and with each parting of fabric, more of Lena’s glowing, pale skin is revealed to her.

Kara’s fingers brush against the newly exposed skin, tentative at first, but as Lena gasps softly at the touch, Kara’s confidence surges. She pauses, savoring the sensation—the way Lena’s skin feels under her fingertips, warm and smooth, the way Lena’s chest rises and falls in anticipation.

With each button, Kara’s lips follow, pressing soft, lingering kisses to the skin she uncovers. Her mouth traces the hollow of Lena’s throat, moving with slow, deliberate care, as if Lena’s body were something to be worshipped, something she isn’t worthy to touch but can’t resist any longer.

The fabric slips further apart, and Kara’s hands explore the delicate curve of Lena’s collarbone, the subtle dip just below her neck where her pulse beats rapidly. She kisses it, tasting the faint salt of Lena’s skin, a mixture of sweat and warmth that makes her head spin. Kara’s fingers continue their journey downward, trembling slightly with the weight of her restraint, moving with a deliberate slowness that is both maddening and exhilarating. Her breath catches in her throat as the next button reveals the swell of Lena’s breasts, her touch faltering only for a moment before she continues, undoing each button with aching precision.

Lena’s moans are soft, almost inaudible, but the sound alone sends waves of heat coursing through Kara. The more skin she reveals, the more Kara finds herself drawn to it, her lips trailing wet kisses down Lena’s chest, the soft fabric of her blouse barely clinging to her shoulders anymore. Kara’s hands move lower still, tracing the lines of Lena’s waist, the curve of her hips, as if every inch of her is a map that needs to be memorized. Each touch is achingly slow, achingly deliberate. It‘s almost torturous in its sensuality, like a devotion to something far greater than desire, something sacred and untouchable.

Lena’s breath hitches, her body trembling beneath Kara’s reverent touch, arching into her hands as though offering herself completely. “Kara…” Her voice is a breathless plea, her body burning with the need for more, and the sound of it sends a surge of heat through Kara’s veins, intensifying the slow, steady burn between them.

Kara’s breath comes in short, ragged gasps as her hands continue their exploration, her lips never straying far from the skin they kiss. The smell of Lena’s perfume mixes with the scent of her desire, creating an intoxicating blend that clouds Kara’s mind, making her crave more, making her want to worship every inch of Lena’s body with the same slow intensity. It feels like touching fire, like her hands are pressing against the very heat of a flame, and yet, instead of pulling away, Kara only wants to immerse herself deeper, to feel the burn of Lena’s skin against her own.

Her fingers trace the soft dip of Lena’s waist, the way her body curves and fits perfectly beneath her touch. The blouse hangs loosely now, slipping from Lena’s shoulders, revealing more of her glowing, radiant skin, and Kara’s hands move as though in a trance, reverently, exploring every newly exposed inch. It is as if Lena’s body is forged from fire itself, each touch sending sparks of heat racing through Kara’s own body, building and building until it feels like she might combust. Kara has never wanted anything more than this—this burn, this oblation.

Lena moans again, the sound a soft, breathless plea, her hips instinctively lifting toward Kara’s touch, urging her to continue. Kara’s fingers trail lower, grazing the waistband of Lena’s skirt, her breath trembling as the intensity of the moment threatens to overwhelm her. She kisses the curve of Lena’s neck, trailing down to her shoulder, her lips brushing against the fabric of the blouse that clings to the edge of her skin. The heat of her breath mingles with the warmth of Lena’s body, making her dizzy, intoxicated.

“God, you’re beautiful.“ The words tumble from Kara‘s lips unbidden, but they feel like the only truth she can speak in this moment of sacred intimacy. Lena is breathtaking—an offering, a goddess, something too divine to touch yet something Kara cannot deny. Lena’s response is a soft, breathless moan, her body trembling beneath Kara’s hands, her fingers gripping Kara’s shoulders as though to anchor herself to the world, as the blaze between them swells to an unbearable crescendo.

As the last button falls open, Kara lets the blouse slip from Lena’s shoulders completely, her hands tracing the path down Lena’s back and up her ribcage. Her fingertips brush the delicate lace of Lena’s bra, lingering for a moment as she leans in, her lips pressing a soft kiss to the swell of Lena’s breast. The warmth of Lena’s skin and the delicate fabric beneath her lips send a shiver through Kara, her breath hitching as she moves with purpose. Her fingers find the clasp, and with a gentle click, the bra loosens, slipping away like a whispered surrender. The lace grazes Lena’s arms as it falls, and now, every inch of Lena’s skin is laid bare to Kara’s reverent touch. It feels like a sacrament—a moment too holy to rush. She longs to worship every inch of Lena, to be consumed by the fire they’ve ignited throughout the night.

Kara pulls Lena closer, their bodies pressing together, the heat between them palpable, the flames that have been simmering all night now roaring into a blaze that threatens to consume them both. Kara’s breath catches as her lips move downward, pressing slow, wet kisses along the swell of Lena’s breast. Her mouth hovers, her breath warm against Lena’s skin, before she finally closes her lips around the curve, her tongue tracing a slow, languid path that makes Lena’s entire body tremble. The softness of Lena’s skin against Kara’s mouth feels like silk, yet burns like fire.

Lena’s breath comes in shallow, trembling gasps, her fingers digging into Kara’s hair, urging her closer, needing more of her, more of this fire that Kara fans with every touch, every kiss. Kara’s lips linger, her tongue tracing the edges of Lena’s sensitive tip in lazy circles, while her free hand squeezes the other breast with more pressure, her thumb brushing over its peak with the same devoted attention, her fingers squeezing gently, eliciting another soft moan from Lena’s parted lips. Every movement is deliberate, slow, sensual, meant to worship Lena’s body as though it’s the most precious offering Kara’s ever known.

Lena’s moans turn breathless, desperate, her hips lifting as though her very skin is aflame with desire. Kara can feel it—the pulse of heat beneath Lena’s skin, the way her body responds with every flick of her tongue, every press of her lips, like they are stoking a fire that will consume them both.

Kara’s fingers slide lower, her touch slow and deliberate, and Lena gasps, her body arching into her, her breath coming in shallow, trembling moans as Kara’s hands worship her, as Kara’s lips trail kisses along her skin like the prayers of a devotee to her goddess. Kara feels as though Lena is offering herself to her, Lena’s body a sacrifice on the altar of desire.

“God, Kara…” Lena’s voice is a whisper, a plea, but beneath it, there is something more—something desperate, something primal. “Take me to bed.”

The words ignite something deep inside Kara, something uncontrollable, and yet she maintains the slow, deliberate pace, unwilling to rush this moment. She wants to savor every touch, every breath, every heartbeat. It is an act of devotion, of surrender.

Kara’s hands slip lower still, and she can feel the heat of Lena’s desire pulsing beneath her skin, can feel the way Lena’s body responds to her touch, each caress a spark that fans the flames between them. Lena’s body feels like a live wire, crackling with electricity, the fire between them now an inferno.

Kara’s hands slide down to grasp Lena’s waist. But the tight pencil skirt clings stubbornly to Lena’s hips, refusing to give way under Kara’s grip. Without thinking, Kara tugs harder, and with a sharp rip, the fabric tears, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

Lena gasps, her body jerking at the sudden sensation, but it isn’t fear in her eyes. No, it is something else—something darker, more dangerous. She likes it. She likes the raw power Kara holds, likes the way Kara could destroy her but chooses to handle her with such care, such reverence. It makes Lena’s pulse quicken, makes her body tremble with the anticipation of what is to come. She wants to feel it all—the fire, the burn, the devotion.

Kara pauses, her gaze flicking down to the torn fabric before meeting Lena’s eyes, uncertainty flickering for a brief moment. But Lena shakes her head, her voice barely more than a whisper, “Don’t stop.”

That is all the permission Kara needs. In one fluid motion, she lifts Lena effortlessly, her hands firm but careful, as though cradling something sacred. Lena’s legs wrap around Kara’s waist, her arms snaking around Kara’s neck, and their bodies press together—skin against skin, heat against heat. The sensation of Lena’s bare skin against hers sends a shock of pleasure through Kara’s body, her pulse racing, her breath coming in shallow, trembling bursts.

Lena feels weightless in Kara’s arms, like an offering held aloft to the gods. The strength beneath her fingertips is undeniable, and it sends a thrill through her. Kara’s muscles flex beneath her touch, each movement powerful yet controlled, and Lena can feel the fire in Kara—the fire she herself has ignited. Kara could destroy her, but she doesn’t. Instead, Kara’s hands are gentle, soft, treating Lena like something fragile, something sacred, and it makes Lena’s heart race, her body tremble with anticipation.

Read the full one-shot here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59779708