#my fics not standing a chance this halloween lol

[emjiroki]

What is it with everyone doing vampire fics this year?!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Me again😗 I wanted to request a bully BakuKirix cubby reader. I’m more than sure it’s been done BUT like I’ve said I love your writing and can’t wait to see what you do with it (if you choice too🤍)

Smile, Sl*t! (Bully!KiriBaku x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Eijirou x Black!Fem!Chubby!Reader

Synopsis: When your friend drags you out to a costume party in a slutty angel costume that you reluctantly agree to wear, she doesn’t tell you that it’s a party thrown by the same two frat boys that you can’t stand…who also happen to be your longtime bullies. When they take notice that you’ve decided to attend their party, they’ll definitely make themselves known and give you a Halloween that you’ll never forget…because it’s all on camera.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Bully!Fratboys!KiriBaku; Nerdy!Reader; College AU; Semi Public Sex; Sex on Tape; Mean Dom!KiriBaku x sub!Reader; Noncon/R*pe; Dubcon (later); Oral (Giving & Receiving); Reader Cums 2x; Creampie + Throatpie; Facial; Cum on Ass; Slutty Angel Costume; Chucky!Kiri; Ghostface!Bakugou; Namecalling; Teasing; Big Ol’ Dicks; Spitroasting; Cumming on Camera

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Thank you so much for your patience & for requesting this, @po1sonn! I really hope you enjoy this one! I had so much fun writing it. For those reading, PLEASE read the warnings. Kiri & Bakugou are VERY mean in this one shot. I was shook even writing it lol. Enjoy! -Jazz 🥰

T/W: THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS NONCON/R*PE & DUBCON. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. I DO NOT PERSONALLY CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTS WRITTEN IN THIS ONE SHOT. IT IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION & FANTASY.

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“Well, well, well…look at what we have here.”

The tall, buff, sexy redhead deviantly smirks at you, his fake bloody scars, ripped overalls, and striped, blood-soaked “Good Guy” shirt giving him a menacing feel. You never knew a Chucky costume could be so damn terrifying. The long, spiked red locks he sports brings out his crimson eyes that are trained firmly on you and your tight, slutty costume that you instantly regret wearing.

“Would ya look at what we’ve got tonight, Bakugou,” Eijirou Kirishima aka Kiri cackles, a menacing look in his eyes. “An angel has come to bless us! Wonder what good deed we did.”

Bakugou Katsuki turns to look at his longtime boyfriend behind his Ghostface mask. Seeing the ghostly mask makes you shiver in fear, but nothing scares you more than when Bakugou reveals his hardened vermillion eyes and unfortunately handsome face as he takes off the mask. “Hardly good,” he huffs. “I don’t remember puttin’ you on our guest list. What, you sneak in?”

He cocks his head to the side as he sizes you up, staring you down like you’re no more than an ant. Kiri stares you down too, his pierced lip caught between his teeth as his eyes crawl over your body.

You look between the two men, so tall, big, and buff, your nerves frazzled. You never would’ve expected a night of fun for Halloween to turn into one of terror when you’ve found yourself stuck in a locked room with the two most popular athletes and frat boys on campus...

Who also happen to be your high school bullies.

God, how you hate them! They used to poke fun and pester you any chance they got back in high school. They’d pull at your skirt and try to lift it in the hallways. They’d steal your books and write dirty notes in them. They’d laugh at your embarrassment and humiliation when they’d call you in gym class and tell you how tight your uniform was on you.

They seemed so hellbent on making the four years of high school a living hell for you. It got to the point where you’d skip classes they were in or hide in the bathroom at lunch to avoid running into them. You were so happy when you finally graduated. Now you can go to college and be away from them!

However, you were wrong. So, so wrong. You should’ve known they’d apply to the same university to continue their education. You should’ve known they’d form their own fraternity with Denki Kaminari and Sero Hanata, your friend and roommate’s boyfriend. While they were kind to you, Bakugou and Kiri were anything but.

You made it your mission to avoid them at all costs. You thought that you were doing a pretty good job until your friend decided to drag you out of the house for a costume party and decided not to tell you that it was being thrown by her boyfriend’s fraternity. You could choke her!

You stare down nervously at your high-heeled boots, black and sexy. “N-No,” you whisper.

Bakugou slams his hand against the door above your head, nearly knocking off the fake, glittery halo attached. “Huh?” He barks. “I can’t hear you, girl. Speak the fuck up! We’re the only ones here!” You flinch at the aggression, your pulse jumping wildl.

“Chilllax, Bakubro,” Kiri chuckles, pulling the blonde back. “She’s just a little nervous. It ain’t everyday she’s in one room with two guys, I’m sure.” A sly smile appears on his lips, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly. “Or am I wrong?”

You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to be here. Oh, God, why did your friend have to bring you here? Why did you have to venture off to find a bathroom and walk into the wrong room? “No,” you softly repeat.

Kiri’s eyebrows, one of them pierced, raise in interest. “No, I’m wrong?” He cackles, nudging Bakugou in the side. “Damn, sweetheart, you get down like that?”

Your face flames and you quickly shake your head. “N-No, I mean…I didn’t sneak in. My friend brought me here.” You revert back to your high school self, shy, awkward, and nervous. Just wanting to go through each day without any trouble.

Bakugou’s brows narrow. Like Kiri, one of his brows is also pierced. Both frat boys are littered in piercings and tattoos that ink their muscles. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he growls. “What, you didn’t wanna come? You too good for us?”

Your eyes, framed by faux lashes and glittery silver eyeshadow, widen at the assumption. “No!” You immediately reply.

Kiri tuts, crossing his beefy arms over his broad chest. “Ooooh, I think she’s lying,” he sing-songs. “I think she thinks she’s a lot better than us. A lot more…innocent.” He says the word in a lecherous fashion that makes your skin crawl. “Why else would she dress up in this? Damn, can this skirt get any tighter?”

“And shorter,” Bakugou adds. “Bend over just an inch and you’ll be flashin’ the whole party. Little slut. Just like all the bitches in here.”

Referring to the guests at their party, you were met with dozens of slutty cats, devils, schoolgirls, and cheerleaders when you arrived. Your friend came as an angel, similar to you, and made you wear a skimpy white corset top paired with a mini skirt that barely covers your ass, white pantyhose, boots, and fake angel wings that track glitter everywhere.

You knew this costume was a mistake. You never should’ve worn it. You don’t wear “barely there” outfits or even go out of your dorm unless you can help it! Why’d you have to listen to your friend’s “YOLO/you deserve to let loose” speech?!

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whimper, looking away from your bullies. Bakugou’s jaw clenches at your back talk and he leans in, getting in your face. “What’d you say, extra?” He growls, using that insult you always hated. “You wanna argue about it? I hurt your little feelings?”

You press yourself further against the locked door, your heart pounding like the bass of the music downstairs. “I know all about your kind,” he scoffs, a dry smirk on his lips. “You act all innocent and prudish, but in reality, you’re just a sick, nasty little pervert. Who else wears an outfit like this?”

He tugs on your skirt, nearly pulling it down. You squeak, snatching it away from him. “It wasn’t my idea!” You protest, unshod tears stinging your eyes. “M-My friend made me—“

“Uh-uh, don’t blame your friend,” Kiri interrupts. “You’re a big girl. You could’ve said no…but you didn’t want to. You wanted to come here and get the eyes of all the boys.” His vermillion eyes narrow at you. “Didn’t you, you slutty bitch?”

You flinch at the insult, the tears rising. You cannot cry in front of these two. You won’t!

“Speakin’ of that guest list, Bakugou is right: we didn’t put you on the list. Your friend, yeah, ‘cause she’s dating Sero, but not you.” Kiri laughs to himself, his eyes glazing over your body. “I’m shocked you even came out of your boring little dorm and got your nose out of them books.”

Bakugou sniggers, his eyes also grazing over every part of your body—your legs; your stomach peeking out from under your corset; your soft breasts; your thighs. You’re not sure if you like it or not.

You’re not sure if you like being the center of attention of these two hot and powerful yet menacing forces. You’re not sure if you like how they’re making your body feel either—tight nipples, tingly skin, pounding heart, and wet pu—

“I-I’m sorry, okay?” You stammer, putting your hands up in defense. They’re shaking. “My friend dragged me here and Sero let me in, but I can leave.”

Quickly, your hand moves to dig into your sparkly silver bag for your phone. You need to text your friend. Sero. Anyone. “I’ll just go and—“

“Whoa, whoa!” Kiri says. His big hand shoots out to snatch your phone away, holding it out of reach of you. “Hold up, sweetheart. Just where do you think ya goin’?” You try to reach for it, but he holds it up and dangles it, grinning down at your short stack self.

Distracted, Bakugou takes the opportunity to snatch your bag away, holding it hostage . You panic, your breathing coming out in puffs. The door is locked. Your phone is gone. And now your bag is in your bully’s clutches too!

Can you scream? Are you brave enough to do that? Would anyone even hear you?

Bakugou’s narrow, sharp eyes stop you short from trying. “You think you can just walk into OUR house, into OUR party, drink up OUR booze and then leave?” he snarls. “You’re not even a guest…more like a trespasser.”

Kiri slowly nods in agreement, sizing you up like a wolf about to pounce and eat you alive. “And we don’t like trespassers,” he hums. “We teach people like you a lesson.”

Like a deer caught in headlights, your eyes widen. What are they going to do to you? Suddenly, Bakugou grabs your arm and snatches you away from the door. You gasp, nearly tripping over your boots, but you manage to steady yourself. You now stand in the middle of the room with both of your bullies surrounding you, Bakugou’s big body blocking the door.

Now the tears begin to rise. You can’t stop the stupid, fat, salty things from dripping down your cheeks. Bakugou laughs at the sight. “Oh, she’s cryin’!” He guffaws. “Damn, it didn’t take much, did it?”

The two surround you like predators. You’re a gazelle in the Savanna, weak and fragile—just what the big, bad, vicious animals hiding in the jungle want. “Please,” you whimper. “Stop it.”

Kiri coos, gripping your chin to force you to look at him. “Stop what, mama?” He teasingly asks, smirking at you. “We ain’t even do anythin’ yet and you’re shakin’ like a leaf. C’mooon, don’t be like that.”

His hand drops from your face to hold your hand, his grip tight and firm. “Show us that pretty costume, huh? Give us a twirl.” He grins at you, flashing you his sharp, pearly whites.

You turn to Bakugou who stares at you like he’s deciding whether or not to slice and dice you. “Do as he says,” he demands.

Sniffling, you do as they want. Kiri twirls you around slowly, showing you off to himself and Bakugou. He makes a show of flipping up your skirt and smacking your ass, moaning at the sight of your red thong underneath. “Nice undies, baby girl,” he condescendingly comments. “And here, I thought you decided not to wear any panties.”

He continues to show you off, both him and Bakugou laughing at your expense. You silently cry to yourself, feeling humiliated. You’re standing on the auction block now, about to be sold to the highest bidder and—

Click.

You abruptly turn to Bakugou who is holding his phone up, a bright light washing over you from the camera “W-What’s that?” You gasp even though you already know. “No, please! Why are you recording me?”

You race to stop him, but Kiri roughly pulls you back. “O-Ow!” You shout, his fingers digging into your arm.

“Ah-ah, hands off,” he tuts, his crimson eyes narrowed. “That isn’t a very angelic thing to do, baby girl. This is just your apology to us for not followin’ our rules.”

Bakugou tsks, finally stepping away from the locked door still holding his phone. “Nah,” he grunts. “She needs to be serious. I want this slut to really regret her decisions.” He shoots a look at Kiri who returns it with a wide, lecherous smirk.

You think you’re scared now? Girl, you’ve never been more terrified than when the two men begin to strip. You watch them with wide eyes, drinking in their naked bodies. They truly are big.

Big pecs. Big forearms. Big thighs. Big shoulders. Big everything, including those big, fat cocks hanging between their tree-trunk legs. You gape at them, unable to process what you’re seeing. You can’t believe it! Your bullies are naked and hard for you!

Bakugou stares at you with a lustful, dark expression that makes your stomach flip, his camera still on you. “Get on your knees and suck us off,” he demands. “And if you make us nut real good, maybe we’ll let ya go and forget all about this little video…unless you wanna become famous.”

A large smile appears on his lips, indicating that he has very bad intentions. “We can airdrop what we’ve got to our brothers and every single person at this party right now. I’m sure they’d think you look sexy too. The girls would even be jealous that you’re here with us instead of them.”

Fear bubbles inside of you. They wouldn’t…they couldn’t! ”No!” you beg. “No, please don’t! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Your two bullies stare at you expectantly, smirking. “Anything?” Kiri asks. Defeatedly, you nod.

The redhead then wraps a hand around his thick cock with its heavy balls and starts pumping. “Then start by gettin’ these cocks in your pretty mouth. Let’s give that mouth somethin’ else to do.”

Despite everything in you telling you no and the tears refusing to stop falling, you do as he demands.

You’ll find yourself on your knees minutes later pumping, stroking, slurping, and sucking your bullies’ thick cocks for what feels like hours. As they moan and voice how good, wet, and sloppy your mouth is, feeling pleasure, you’ll feel discomfort.

You wince as they grab your hair, knocking off your halo, forcing you back and forth between them. Your jaw aches from the constant stretching as they fuck your throat, filling it up with their length and girth. They use your mouth like it’s a fleshlight, sloppily and roughly fucking it until your throat is raw and your gag reflex nearly kicks in.

“Nicely done, angel,” Kiri chuckles as he watches Bakugou pound your throat. He holds Bakugou’s phone up, recording you getting your throat fucked. “I think she’s done this before, ‘Suki. She’s waaaay too good at suckin’ cock.”

Bakugou grunts in response, his hips pistoning away. You do your best to avoid grazing him with your teeth, not wanting to find out what will happen if you do. “Nice fuckin’ mouth,” he groans, his balls slapping against your chin. “You have done this shit before, haven’t ya, princess?”

“Mmm-mmm!” You protest, mumbling around his cock. Bakugou grips the back of your neck and forces you off of him before slapping you in the face with his cock. “Ya lyin’ little bitch,” he growls. “Don’t play with me. You know you’ve sucked dick before.”

Kiri begins to slap his big cock against the other side of your cheek, both of them coating your lips in pre-cum and spit. “Open wide, angel,” he teasingly coos, the camera in your face. “C’mon, give us somethin’ for the camera. Give these dicks a kiss and a nice suck.”

They continue to slap and tap their cocks against your cheeks and tongue, laughing cruelly at your trembling lips and mascara-stained cheeks. “You look so pretty like this, angel,” Kiri groans as he sinks back into your mouth.

“Such a good little slut, ain’t she?” Bakugou asks, taking his phone back to shove it in your face. “Wonder if she’s wet from all of this.” Kiri smirks at his boyfriend, a glint of interest in his red eyes. “Wanna find out?” He whispers. Bakugou smirks back and you know what you’re in for.

Minutes later, you’re spread out on the floor with your thighs forced apart, Kiri and Bakugou’s hands gripping either one to make sure you don’t close them. Kiri is between your legs first, slurping greedily at your pussy and nibbling at your thighs with his teeth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet, angel,” he mumbles into your cunt. “You’re givin’ me so much.”

You whine in response, trying not to writhe under Bakugou’s grip on your soft, fleshy thigh. “That’s ‘cause she’s a little slut,” he growls. “Just look at that expression. She’s so fuckin’ cumdrunk.” He looks down at you, his phone recording all over your lewd expressions. “Does it feel good gettin’ eaten out by your bullies?” he asks. “Tell the audience, princess.”

You open your eyes, looking into the camera lens. Bakugou shut off the flash so it’s easier on your sight and he can get the perfect shot of your pretty face. “Y-Yes,” you whimper just as Kiri sucks on your clit. You moan louder, unable to stop yourself. “Fuck, Kiri, please!”

Kiri laughs as he sucks on your clit with his soft lips, pulling away to give you a grin. “You beg so pretty for us, angel. Almost makes me feel sorry for pickin’ on ya.” His tongue gives you a long lick from your clit down to your asscrack and back up again to slurp on your clit. “Almost,” he adds, making Bakugou laugh.

While Kiri is still gentle with his pussy-eating, he is also merciless. Playful. Teasing. He knows just what spots to tease and stimulate until your body is writhing and twisting in pleasure, your core too tight and too warm. You feel like you’re about to burst, a sensation similar to needing to pee overtaking you. “W-Wait, Kiri!” you plea. “You’re goin’ too fast! I-I don’t wanna—“

Bakugou grips your throat, squeezing the words out of you. “You’d better not cum,” he demands. “I haven’t even gotten my tongue in there yet. Shitty hair, ease up and switch with me. She won’t be doin’ shit when I’m tongue fuckin’ her.”

Kiri pouts, but stops anyway and lets his boyfriend take his spot. Bakugou delivers on his promise as he sits between your thighs. He has them hiked up over his broad shoulders, his fingers digging into your ass as he greedily slurps at your gushing pussy. He doesn’t allow Kiri to touch any part of your cunt, rubbing your clit with his nose himself while he tongue fucks you.

“Katsuki,” you moan. “F-Fuck, please! Slow down!” Bakugou smacks your ass in response. “Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” The blonde continues to greedily and evilly eat your pussy, his tongue moving quick and his lips so soft that they feel like silk against your clit.

Kiri cackles above you, one hand on one of your juicy tits while the other is holding Bakugou’s phone to record you. “Don’t talk back to him, mama,” he sniggers. “Bakugou gets reeeeal mad when someone talks back to him. He’ll edge you for hours if you’re not a good girl.”

He stops groping your tit at the same time Bakugou pauses in his pussy-eating, staring at the redhead. They both share the same devious expression before looking down at you with lust and evil in their gazes. They’re like horror movie villains to you now. Demons. They are who to be afraid of.

You know exactly what comes next, but no mental preparation does much to prepare you for your bullies putting you through the wringer…and all on camera. But not before they make you cum with their tongues. They do it back to back, taking turns playing with your pussy and clit with their tongues until you have no choice but to gush all over them.

“That’s a good slut,” Bakugou moans into your cunt. “Fuckin’ cum for us. Cum for the camera, ya little whore.” He continues to eat you out as you moan and sob, tears once again pricking your eyes. The orgasm is explosive, drawing every ounce of energy out of you.

Kiri pulls away from sucking your clit to shine the light from the phone in your face and on your cum-slick pussy, moaning in appreciation at the sight. “So pretty,” he cackles. “Betcha needed that, didn’t you, angel?”

You only whimper in response, unable to speak. You feel so humiliated. But your humiliation only increases when your bullies scoop you up and finally use you as they intended while the embarrassing sex tape continues to record on Bakugou’s iPhone.

Bakugou props his phone up against the wall so he doesn’t have to hold it while he fucks you from behind. His cock is bigger than you thought just by looking at it and sucking on it. When it’s inside you, the pleasure mingles with the stretching sensation you feel as he pushes himself deep, deep, deep inside of you.

So deep that you feel his balls slap against your clit every time he pistons his hips against your ass. “Fuck!” you cry out, unable to hold back. You struggle to hold yourself up on your arms. Your body grows the weaker the rougher Bakugou fucks you, grunts of pleasure escaping through gritted teeth.

He uses you as he would use a toy, slamming into you with abandon. His rough thrusts cause embarrassingly wet noises to drift through the sex-scented air and your entire body to jiggle with the force of them—your ass, your tits, your thighs, your stomach.

Kiri grips all of you with his greedy hands, his cock surging at the sight of you getting fucked. He kneels down in front of you, making sure he is in the camera frame too. “C’mon, angel, you can take him,” he coos. “You can take both of us.”

He wraps a hand around his fat cock and you stare at it, wide-eyed. His dick piercing glints at you the same way his teeth do, almost mocking you. “Open up for me while Bakugou fucks that slutty pussy.”

You have no choice. You do as he demands and nearly choke as he shoves himself deep in your throat. Together, he and Bakugou begin to fuck you at each end in both of your holes, their moans and grunts filling the dark bedroom and all on camera footage.

He spreads your asscheeks apart as he pummels into your wet heat, forcing you into a deeper arch. “Yeah, that’s right,” he growls, smacking your ass. You wince at the sting. “Take that fuckin’ dick, princess. You needed this so badly—just some cock for a nerdy little slut.”

“Oh, you know she did,” Kiri chuckles, hissing in pleasure at the way your throat clenches and flexes around his shaft. “She was just hopin’ and prayin’ we’d see her in that sexy little costume and wreck her.”

“She ain’t been wrecked yet.” Bakugou suddenly pulls out of you, making you whine at the sudden feeling of being full and then not. He gives your ass a hard smack, the video definitely catching the sound. “Take shitty hair’s dick now,” he orders. “I wanna see your eyes this time. I’m gonna fuck your throat till I cum and you’re gonna take all of it.”

This isn’t a suggestion. This isn’t your decision. He is telling you exactly what you’ll be doing. Kiri laughs, delighted. “Handin’ me over her pussy? You must be feelin’ generous, babe.” He playfully kisses Bakugou on the cheek before the two switch, their attention back on you.

They both slap their cocks against your holes, laughing at your agonized expression. “Please,” you whimper, the only word in your blank mind. Blank from the constant fucking. Blank from the orgasm. Blank from the situation.

“Please what, slut?” Bakugou asks, tilting your chin up. “You want us to go again? You need us to fill you up?”

You don’t know how to answer him. You want them to stop, but you also want them to keep going. You need to cum like you need to breathe air. Like you need to eat. Like you need to blink.

Unfortunately for you, your hot, sexy, and extremely malicious bullies take your pathetic whimpering for a yes and slide in at the same time. Their moans of unison as they sink into your wet pussy and hot mouth are worthy of the best porn ever made.

“Fuck, angel!” Kiri moans, wasting no time pounding your pussy like there is no tomorrow. “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had…no offense, ‘Suki.”

He grins toothily at the platinum blonde who is too busy watching the way you take his cock in your mouth to look up. “You say that now till I’ve got my dick in your ass,” he growls. “Now shut up and keep fuckin’ this slut. We need some good shit for the camera.”

Kiri’s grin widens as he grips your fleshy hips and smacks your ass in between his thrusts. “Riiiight,” he draws out. “A nice scene for our movie. You’re the star of the show, angel.”

He leans over you, sinking his cock in deeper and drawing a muffed moan out of you. “This is your big break, baby girl,” he whispers, nibbling at your ear. “Now take these fuckin’ dicks like you’re about to win an award.”

The two begin to fuck you in unison—rough, hard, and fast. They use your body and holes like you’re nothing but a sex doll to them. A toy to be used for their pleasure alone. Kiri grips your skirt as he fucks you, nearly ripping it apart, and Bakugou yanks on your hair, knocking the fake halo off of your head.

You feel a mess. You are a mess. Your costume is destroyed, your makeup is ruined, and you know that you’ll feel every inch of this in the morning. You would’ve preferred they steal your books or pull at your clothes in the hallway than this.

Because you can’t live this down. You can’t push this memory to the very far back of your mind. You can’t escape it through self growth, partying, or studying. Because it’s all on camera.

Your eyes shift to Bakugou’s phone screen where, sure enough, you see yourself. All of your soft, chubby body is being groped and gripped by big, rough hands calloused by endless training and sports. Two thick cocks piston in and out of your dripping pussy and mouth dripping in saliva. All for the camera.

If anyone else saw this, they’d see nothing but a slut.

A slut who is soon about to meet her end. You can feel the cocks inside of you swelling, signaling that your two bullies are about to peak. “Fuck, angel, I’m about to cum!” Kiri warns, gripping your ass and stroking your stretch marks. “You gonna cum too, aren’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm!” You hum around Bakugou’s thick cock. You don’t know if you’re saying yes or no. But your body betrays you regardless, your pussy squeezing around Kiri’s cock that continues to bully your insides.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls, pulling his cock out of your mouth. He grips your chin and forces you to face his phone. You look back at you, mascara running and lip gloss and spit all over your mouth. “Look at the fuckin’ camera,” he snarls. “Say you like bein’ our slut. Say you like bein’ fucked on camera.”

Pants and moans leave your lips as Kiri continued to fuck you, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. Smack! Bakugou leans forward to smack your ass, leaving it stinging. “Say it!” he hisses. “Say it if you wanna fuckin’ cum or I swear to God you won’t.”

“I…I…” Tears spring into your eyes as the embarrassing, betraying words leave your lips. “I love it!” You shout. “I love being your slut! I love getting fucked on camera by you! I want your cum!”

“Yeah?” Kiri teasingly asks. “You want our cum? You gonna take these loads in both of your holes like a good little girl, angel?”

“Yes!” you wail, getting closer and closer. “Yes, I promise! Please give me all of your cum!” Your two bullies grin devilishly, happy and satisfied with your pathetic answer. The two begin to fuck you like their lives depend on it, chasing their highs with rough thrusts and rutting that pushes you to your end.

When you cum, you cum HARD. It takes you a moment to make any noise as it takes over your body, making you shiver, shake, and tense up as each wave of pleasure overwhelms you. Your pussy tightens around Kiri’s cock and strokes it with your walls as you cum all over him, dripping down his heavy balls and your thick thighs.

“Oh, fuck!” He groans, still pummeling into your heat along with Bakugou. “Gonna cum! Gonna fuckin’ cum!” Finally, with a loud moan that rings in your eardrums and bounces off of the walls, he shoots a warm, creamy load deep inside of your pussy.

Bakugou follows, cumming deep down your throat with a guttural groan as if he’s an animal. He tilts his head back as his thrusts become sloppy and slower, still pumping rope after rope of cum along your tongue. You weakly moan as you’re filled to the brim with their spunk, feeling wet from both ends.

“Not yet,” Bakugou growls. “We ain’t done with you yet.”

He and Kiri pull their cocks out of you and begin pumping them on your face and your ass. You gasp as you feel Bakugou’s warm droplets of cum splash onto your face while Kiri enjaculates on your asscheeks, spreading his cum around the soft globes.

Once they finish, the two pant and sigh in satisfaction and exhaustion. Their toned bodies glint in sweat and their cocks are still semi-hard, but you’re sure they won’t want another round…or you hope not.

“Whew!” Kiri whistles, placing his hands on his hips. “That was…so, so fuckin’ good.” Bakugou wipes sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily. “I haven’t cum that hard in forever,” he chuckles. “Consider yourself lucky, princess.”

You lie on the floor between them, semi-naked and coated in cum. You are wrecked. Totally and completely. Kiri cackles, patting you on your ass. “Guess this she couldn’t handle it,” he jokes. “We ruined her.”

“Good,” Bakugou growls. “That’ll teach her not to go snoopin’ around our house without permission.”

“Oh, hold up!” Kiri suddenly walks over to pick up Bakugou’s phone and comes back, kneeling down in front of you. Bakugou forces you up and onto your knees, and like a rag doll, you allow it.

“Look up for me, angel,” Kiri coos. Despite the cum dripping off of your face, you do so and stare up into your bullies’ grinning faces and the white light of Bakugou’s phone.

“Smile, slut!” they both shout in unison. They broke your mind just enough where you do, flashing a wobbly smile at the camera.

THE END.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hex: Smile Like You Mean It

guys I'm sorry I have no self control- enjoy my brain worms thinking that there needs to be a Hazbin/Dead by Daylight crossover (you can blame/thank @fraugwinska for encouraging me)

Tags: mentions of murder, blood and gore; brief mention of tentacles but not anything fun lol; vaginal sex; female reader

I have like two more parts planned for this fic specifically (and maaayyybe a little something planned for Halloween with my beloved Frau ❤️)

There was something weird about this new killer.

It took a while to notice the pattern- between the different trials and trying to repair generators and not get sliced to pieces or shoved onto a meat hook from the other killers- but once you got the idea in your head, it was impossible to ignore. You hadn’t mentioned anything to the other survivors yet, wanting to be sure before you brought it up and potentially pissed off all of the men and made them sulky and irritated in the other trials.

But it’s confirmed for you when the Radio Demon gives you a cheeky wave on your way out the exit gate after hooking Dwight, Gabriel, and Felix, his red eyes glowing in the darkness of the swamp and his antlers silhouetted by the light from the incomplete generators, having opened the gate for you as you were searching for the hatch.

He was sparing the women every chance that he could. The only time he even swung at one of you was if someone was trying to get him to drop one of the guys, and it was more like the batting away of a fly than him trying to inflict any serious damage. He would chase for a while before diverting or slipping into shadows to go after one of the men, he tutted disapprovingly when you dropped a pallet on his head, he would stand menacingly off to the side while you worked on generators, pleasant jazz in your ears in lieu of a thudding heartbeat. You had only been hooked by him one time, in a trial with four female survivors, and he had offered you a static-y “awfully sorry, my dear” as he pierced your shoulder, fading into shadows and giving Sable plenty of time to safely unhook you and heal you with her medkit. You all escaped- Nea even hung behind to find the hatch while the rest of you ran out the gate. When she returned to the fire she told you that she hadn’t seen a glimpse of him; the only sign that she wasn’t alone was the distant sound of jazz echoing across the farm.

You should have just accepted it. Told the other girls so you could coordinate and plan your trials when you arrived in them, so they all had some sense of peace in this hellhole. A killer that showed as much mercy as was possible in the Entity’s realm was a rarity- sure, every once in a while Ghostface would ease up and let everyone escape, enforce the completion of generators, encourage you all to help each other and drop pallets and cleanse totems. But the next trial he was always right back to merciless slaughter, like the generosity he had shown was just to change the pace a little, make things more interesting for himself, or maybe give himself something to be angry about the next time he faced the survivors.

But it burned in your mind. Why was the Radio Demon like this? Why was the Entity allowing it? You had just as little information about him as you did any of the other killers; some of them at least had a realm that they were linked to, that could provide some sort of clue. But with him there was nothing- he flitted between maps as trials changed, he never spoke to anyone, and he only went after the men when he could help it. The curiosity, the need to know consumed you.

So this time, when you spawn into the Racoon City Police Department, you work on the generators alone and avoid David, Nancy, and Leon as they run from the strange deer demon. A few minutes and some agonizing screams later, two loud booms ring out as Leon and David are sacrificed to the Entity.

Moments later, the exit gates open, spindly pikes coming up out of the ground to cover the generator you had been working on, and Nancy is at your side. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she cries, her clothes stained in blood from trying to heal Leon before the Radio Demon downed him, and she’s pulling on your arm towards the gates.

“You go on,” you tell her. “I’m gonna try to find the hatch- I’ll see you back at the fire.” She doesn’t hesitate, only a single anxious nod before she’s off. As soon as you hear the vague humming of the hatch, you abandon the generator and search for the Hex totem- you know he has one, even if you don’t know exactly what kind of powers it grants him. But you do know that cleansing it, dismantling it, will alert him to your presence and hopefully save you the trouble of having to hunt him down. 

You stumble across him before you can even really start searching for the totem- seated at a desk off the main room of the police department, sipping at a mug. “My my, how brave you are!” He says, without turning to look at you, the jazz that he emits soft and somehow soothing in the quiet of the building. “Your little friend has escaped now- why don’t you run along with her?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” you tell him, and drop yourself into one of the nearby rolling chairs as a bell rings out, signaling that the exit gates would be closing soon. One of his ears perks up- and you’ll have to tell Feng that they are ears, because everyone had been debating and she was dead set on thinking that it was just strangely styled hair- and he swivels the chair around to look at you, eyes trailing up and down your much shorter frame. “Why do you always let the women go?”

“Ha! I had wondered how long it would take for one of you to notice.” He smiles, teeth razor sharp and dangerous, reminding you that despite his demeanor and how politely he speaks and the antlers atop his soft and fluffy hair, he’s still a predator- chosen by the Entity for his bloodlust to fuel these forsaken realms and inspire fear. “I merely operate by my own rules, that’s all!”

“And the Entity is okay with that?”

He leans forward so suddenly you almost don’t move back in time, jerking away as he appears in your personal space. “She prefers sacrifices, but she feeds on the emotions,” he says, delighting in the way that your heart rate increases and you grip the arms of your chair. “The uncertainty of not knowing if you’ll live or die. The adrenaline of a chase and knowing that if I catch you, you’ll be tossed on a hook like cattle. The terror in wondering if your luck has finally run out, and that perhaps this will be the time I acquaint you with my knife.” The mentioned blade is at your cheek then, materializing in his hand from the shadow and swiftly moving; not pressing in but merely resting on the soft skin there. “Don’t worry, darling,” he says softly at your sharp intake of breath. “I don’t need to hurt you. You’re already feeding her now- curious, don’t you think? That despite the trial being effectively over this realm hasn’t collapsed and sent us back to our respective areas with the others? It’s like a delicacy to her, a spot of curiosity and intrigue and excitement instead of the usual droll. She wants to see how this plays out.” 

The knife disappears. “Anyway, you’re correct in your assumption- I avoid the women when I can, because the emotions alone are satisfactory. The Entity knew about my… hm, let’s say ‘moral guidelines,’ when she brought me on board.”

You’re still frozen in place, the volatile nature of the situation making you cautious in your intrigue- he was unpredictable, and apparently the Entity was too. “You can’t do the same for the guys, then? If the emotions are enough?”

“Well, I have to bring something to the table, don’t I?” He finally moves back, settling back into his own seat. “She’d hardly have chosen me if she thought I would give her nothing- unfortunately for your male friends, they align more closely with those I targeted in life. In exchange for being able to spare you lovely ladies, the men cannot be allowed to leave.”

“I see.” You sit in companionable silence for a few minutes- imagine that; companionable! With a killer! - before you realize that the sound of the gate timer has stopped. Time is effectively frozen in the realm, like the Entity waits with bated breath to see what will happen next. “So, what happens now? Now that I know for sure, I mean. I don’t imagine you’ll just let me go.”

He regards you through narrowed eyes, the smile never leaving his face. “Hm, a curious situation we find ourselves in to be sure! I don’t presume you would keep my little secret out of the goodness of your heart?” He takes your silence as an answer. “Well, I can’t very well have you running off to tell your little friends, can I? If they know the game there goes all those delicious anticipatory emotions for the Entity, which puts me back at square one of having to kill everyone- despite my own moral obligations, I do fear that She can make me do her bidding if she’s not getting what she wants.”

As if to agree with him, the realm creaks and shakes, pictures falling from the walls of the office you sit in and shattering on the floor. “Quite the conundrum then- what to do with you!” He waves his hand and a tendril emerges from the darkness, circling you in the office chair, applying pressure to spin you in a slow circle before the demon. “Perhaps you could be persuaded to accept a deal for your silence?” Alastor rests his head in his hand, legs crossed at the knee as he watches you closely.

The atmosphere changes, dark shadows growing up the walls that surround you, never taking your eyes off Alastor. “What kind of deal?”

Your chair jerks forward, the wisps of darkness wrapping around the wheels and tugging it forward, tipping you out of the chair and effectively into Alastor’s lap, arms on either side of his head to hold yourself up. “As I mentioned, she feeds more off the emotions than the true sacrifices,” he murmurs, a tight grip on your arm and the other curling around the back of your neck to bring your face closer. His breath tingles against your lips as he speaks. “I believe we could provide her with more… pleasant emotions, if you’re agreeable to it.” The grasp on your arm loosens, sharp claws trailing delicately across the skin, sending shivers through your body. “A bit of a palette cleanser for all of us! Something to look forward to once in a while among all the carnage and death- in return for your silence and playing your usual part, of course.”

He couldn’t be proposing what it sounded like- and yet, his fingers are carding gently through your hair, the softest touch you’ve felt in months since coming to this place, his nails scratching pleasantly at your scalp as you tremble in his hold; fear, adrenaline, anticipation all spiraling and settling somewhere so low in your gut that it feels like arousal despite this world that you’re in, seated in the lap of a man with teeth so sharp they tear through flesh like knives. You should leave while his guard is down- you had no idea if the hatch would still be open but it seemed like the timer had stopped on the gates-

“H- how often?” You ask, instead of fleeing, and the fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin settles onto your waist, claws prickling through the summer dress you had been dragged into the Entity’s realm in.

“I believe that would be up to Her,” he says, and drops his head to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sharp teeth gently brushing across your pulse point, where your heartbeat makes itself known. “We can’t have our private moments too often I would think; what would all your little friends say if you were missing so frequently? We can sort out the sordid details later, darling- focus on me now.”

And with that he pulls back far enough that his shadowy tentacles can slip between your bodies, pulling your dress up over your head and leaving you perched in his lap in just your panties. Alastor is leaning back in before you can cover yourself, his mouth latching on to the swell of your nipple and sucking it hard into his mouth, tongue swirling around the tip with a free hand coming down to tug at the flimsy fabric of your panties, the mere suggestion of his claws reducing them to scraps. His grip back on the soft curve of your hip, he pulls your body down against him to grind against the wet heat between your thighs, a reverberating groan against your chest that sends heat rocketing through your body.

It’s the most perfect thing you’ve felt in ages- firm pressure against your clit where his erection strains against his slacks, the slickness of your arousal irreparably ruining them. You hope for both of your sakes that despite the strangeness of the trial you were in, your clothing would be reset like it usually was; showing up to the fire completely naked wasn’t something that you wanted to be subjected to, nor was what would be unavoidable scrutiny from your teammates at taking so long in the trial and then showing up unclothed.

“You’re far too preoccupied with whatever is in that lovely head of yours,” Alastor says around a nipple, giving it a parting kiss before moving to the other side. “Am I not adequately entertaining you, my dear?” He continues to rut his hips up against you as he speaks, the tinkling of a belt buckle making you look down to see more of his tentacles undoing his pants so he doesn’t have to take his hands off you. That’s the thought that finally has you releasing the shaky breath you’ve been holding back, hands coming off the back of the armchair to tangle in his hair and clutch him closer to your chest. Sudden, burning heat presses against you, a moan suppressed into your skin as Alastor pulls back, kissing along your collarbone. “I’d so hate for you to be bored,” he says politely, and starts to shift you backwards off his lap.

“Wait!” You resist the pull, sliding forward again until the folds of your cunt rest against his cock, his hissed intake of breath sending your heart rate skyward. Hands braced on his chest now, you place your forehead against his. “Please, I want- fuck, Alastor, please…”

His grip tightens, tilting and lifting you enough that the tip of his cock presses insistently at your entrance. And fuck, you knew he was strong- he had to be, with the ease that he lifted the others, men entirely comprised of dense muscle, onto the hooks; how deep his slices cut with one swing; how easy it was for him to bust pallets and walls and fuck up your generators- but the demonstration of it now as he prepares to fuck you shoots arousal into your bloodstream, sharp and dangerous while he merely holds you aloft like its nothing, the drip of your arousal coating him where you hover in his grasp. “Go on,” he whispers, his lips brushing tantalizingly against yours. “Let me taste what you sound like needing me.” 

So you plead- you let the words fall from your lips like a prayer, to him, to the Entity, begging for release, for the pleasure that he’s promised you as a reprieve from the usual torture of these realms. “Please fuck me, please, Alastor, I need it- oh God, yes…” Your words dissolve into a drawn out whimper of his name as he pulls you down, sinking you onto his cock with such steady pressure that your limbs tingle with the feeling of being so perfectly filled. Your moans echo in the empty halls of the police department, no one to hear you as you settle fully into his lap, his length reaching deep inside you and brushing against that soft sweet spot that many back home struggled to hit with any accuracy. He stills and allows you to adjust to him, claws still gripping the plush skin of your thighs while you breath deeply and force yourself to move slow to start.

Alastor exhales harshly through his nose when you rock your hips against him, a slow grind that has his cock dragging deliciously against your inner walls. The way he’s watching you, the feeling of his tight grip against your skin- it’s all such a contrast to the feelings you’ve been plagued with since the Entity abducted you. There’s still a tinge of fear but with it- burning, glorious pleasure, anticipation that grows in your gut along with the distant ache of an approaching orgasm, the satisfaction of a curiosity being sated. You use the little leverage to have to lift up a couple inches off his cock before rocking back down, a desperate whine escaping you when he bucks his hips to meet your thrust. You establish a rhythm, slow and firm with the pressure exactly where you need it even without a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. You were sure if you snaked a hand down now it would be over, cumming in Alastor’s lap as many times as you could manage before he finally finished himself. But you were in no rush- you could stay like this forever, you think deliriously, riding this demon’s cock without a single thought to the world outside this room, the dangers of the Entity’s realm that normally lurk around every corner.

Like she can hear the thought as it enters your head, a bell rings out- the world shakes around you as the end-trial timer starts again, shadows that are different from Alastor’s growing up the walls and dismantling the realm at the seams.

“Oh dear,” Alastor says, his hands tightening their grip on your body even as he ceases his thrusting. “It would appear that we now have a time limit, darling. Perhaps you’d better run along now- we wouldn’t want you to get caught in the Entity’s clutches, would we?”

He knows as well as you do what happens when the timer runs out- dark spikes that emerge from the ground to spear the unfortunate survivor that took a second too long in finding the hatch or opening the gate, like the Entity was throwing a tantrum at them not playing her game the way she wanted. And he’s not wrong- if you had any sense of self-preservation you would climb out of his lap and stumble with your weak legs back towards where you had heard the hatch earlier. Fuck, you wouldn’t even still be here if you had any true survival instincts, because where was the logic in staying in a confined space with who was, despite his honeyed voice and thick cock, a confirmed killer?

You didn’t want to risk being caught when the timer ran out, impaled in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were- but maybe the buzz of pleasure was making you a little careless in your decision making. You were so close to orgasm, you didn’t think it would take you long to get there.

He starts to lift you from his lap and you clench your inner walls in protest, stealing the groan from his lips with a fierce kiss. “No, wait- I have enough time, let me keep going.”

You feel him smile against your lips. “I admire your dedication, my dear, but time is fleeting- I’d hate for you to feel rushed, there’s always next time.”

That should sound promising, the knowledge that you can have this again, but instead it spurs you into action. “Fuck, no, need it now-” You rise up and slam back down onto him, your legs digging into the sides of the chair, your thighs straining with the effort you’re now exerting as you properly ride him, fast and sloppy. It’s desperate now, the need that you feel- as the world around you continues to shudder and quake you make quick work with your fingers, finally reaching between your bodies to slide your fingers through the slick of your arousal and rub at your clit, engorged and throbbing in your need. Alastor lets out a soft noise as your walls flutter around him in time with the flickering of the lights, cumming with a whine into his mouth as your body tenses in his grasp, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt in an imitation of his claws. Your vision goes dark- which might be an effect of the realm disintegrating, now that you think about it- and everything is crackling electricity and white-hot pleasure that drowns out everything but the sound of Alastor grunting as he continues to fuck up into your pliant body, soft and soaked in the remnants of your orgasm.

Black oozes down the walls surrounding you, the full collapse of the police department imminent as Alastor stands suddenly, tentacles sending papers and binders scattering so he can lay you across the desk, thrusting in time with the ringing of the bell. He bucks his hips once, twice, before spending himself with a couple long pulses, the last spilling across the bare skin of your pelvis as he pulls out.

You know that the collapse is going to happen now, that you wasted any chance you might have had of escaping in favor of cumming on Alastor’s cock, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Alastor pants softly, brushing your hair from your forehead and standing, helping you get your feet under you before he takes a step back. “Until next time, my dear,” he says, and before you can even inquire what he means there are cool, ghost-like hands wrapping around your ankles. A glance down reveals that in the chaos of the collapse Alastor had moved the pair of you- shifting through the shadows until you stood outside RCPD instead of the office you had been occupying, the hum of the hatch ignored despite being so close to you.

His shadow grins at you from the fading sidewalk and tugs hard, sending you sprawling through the hatch with Alastor’s glowing eyes watching you from above.

You land hard on your back beside the campfire, immediately swarmed by your friends- Nancy in particular is teary, worried about having left you alone with Alastor after she escaped. After covertly confirming that you were clothed- because thank God, showing up late would be one thing, but late and naked was another- you shoo them off with some fabricated story about Alastor chasing you away from the hatch whenever you got close.

Everyone’s minds at ease, you settle onto a log by the fire, Meg and Laurie on either side of you as they tell you about their own trials; no one else seems to notice the wispy shadow that lurks on the edge of the woods, or the way that it grins and winks before fading into the fog.

[langfield]

so in the text messages it’s shown that max and safi attended vinh’s halloween party before the events of the game and my mind has been spinning about how that went lol. i know both max and safi ended up getting wasted by the end of it but i was wondering if you had any headcanons about that particular night? specifically with how max and vinh interacted with each other considering how they would most likely still be in the early stages of getting to know each other.

i also wonder what their actual costumes were?? especially considering how safi seemed to really want to show vinh up in that department lmao.

aha. well! it’s very funny you mention the party, because i am drafting up a fic that takes place after and during it for a safi/max piece … so i’m afraid i’ll have to be pretty tight lipped about some aspects.

though the costumes i tentatively picked out for this fic and vinh’s halloween party is from a real world show called yellowjackets : a two season show about girls being stranded in the wilderness and losing their minds … to be as vague as possible. i personally love the show, so this is minor indulgence on my end! but there is some significance to my pick even if some fans won’t understand the reference. safi attends as ‘the antler queen’ and max’s outfit is more basic, given the fact the texts imply she was sort of spacing her own costume … she’s just a yellowjacket, a teenager, so they both look something like this ( with modifications of course, they made these outfits from scratch ) :

i’ve always found the antler queen’s design to be rather mesmerizing in terms of how haunting it is, so i think safi’s arts-and-crafts project for it would definitely show up vinh at the party. it’s not just the costume either -- it’s the energy she’ll carry while wearing it. and if there’s one thing safi is so good at, it’s silently commanding attention without much effort and maintaining an aura of mystery. point is : she’ll kill it. max’s is more low effort ( it’s just the jacket you see in the second picture, and her project doesn’t even look nearly as good, i’m afraid ) but being attached at safi’s hip helps! i could go on and on about why i’ve picked these outfits for them, though i’ll shut my trap for now because the fic touches upon it lightly … but if you’ve seen the show, you probably have an inkling as to why they’re wearing what they are, and why this show would be so up safi’s alley. vinh lang stands no chance!

but as for how vinh and max interacted during that night, i sadly doubt they brushed shoulders much solo. safi and max showed up together in matching costumes and i’m sure they hardly left each other’s side the whole time, what with max being such a loner initially ( she didn’t even hang out with moses one-on-one back then ) and safi being obsessed in turn … they likely existed in their own bubble and anyone who talked to one basically talked to them both. vinh would likely be jealous of this, given his admission of such feelings to max in spin when he confessed that safi would talk about max ‘all the time’, so this is a similar situation : where vinh wants safi’s attention and time desperately, but she is eagerly orbiting around the new blood instead. very complicated! this is also a vinh who is posturing still in many ways and is stupidly jealous, meaning that there wouldn’t be much going on between him and max besides some catty pettiness on vinh’s part, and total obliviousness on max’s. he likely would avoid her if possible back then, despite his own conflicting feelings about everything surrounding her -- since i do firmly believe vinh was always attracted to max in ways he couldn’t quite explain, outside of a vague ‘we could hook up’ feeling. which makes being jealous of her more complicated than it should be. for all his sleuthing and bitter stewing, i don’t think he could ever properly hate her, so instead it’s an odd game of sore looks and snide remarks. they knew of each other ( vinh knew more about max than she knew of him, given safi’s rambling ), perhaps talked in passing, and max clearly saw vinh enough in her day-to-day to have his photo on her photo wall … but their beginnings were still curt and bittersweet. it’s important to remember that!

[zanysmurf]

13 aaaaand 4 &-VANITY

@vanitysmurfs

13. What are your lore/ worldbuilding headcanons?

i have to admit my other friends in the fanbase are sooo much more well versed with their own lore and worldbuilding headcanons than i am. i've always been more character-focused when it comes to smurfs. but the minimal lore i had was stuff like this:

after the monster smurfs episode of the 80s cartoon, spook-a-smurf day was never brought up again in canon. my hc is that, as years go by, the holiday gradually matches how humans celebrate halloween. the smurfs give smurfberry candy (the same kind from smurfette's sweet tooth) to other smurfs whenever they like their costume. the amount they get in total determines who wins at the end. (fun fact: greedy never ranks very high)

this is ripped straight from an au fic i never finished (also imagine smurf village not getting DESTROYED every 5 mins) but if it counts: i really liked the idea of clumsy's house being one of the most lived-in houses in the village. like the outside has small cracks here and there or anything else that's relatively unnoticeable unless you look real close. it makes it stand out as "old" compared to the others, yet it's just a regular smurf house. smurfs can get picky about where their house is after a while, become unsatisfied with it in general pretty fast, etc. but clumsy? he seems to be content right where he is.

cont. handy is always doing work on it or anything else clumsy owns that's breakable (yeah no kidding) but clumsy always declines when he asks if he'd like a new house (unless it's like literally in shambles lol) and that's just how it is. handy does a good job despite clumsy's infinite accidents

if you look closely at the great oak, it's covered in hundreds of wood carvings by many different species of tiny creatures. a lot of it is the typical Couple's Initials Surrounded By A Heart stuff (a lot of those are made by the smurfs of course) but there's also so much else like words of wisdom and poetry and some pretty neat art. it's essentially one of the forest's most beloved chalkboards. even if it wasn't allowed/frowned upon, i feel that it'd happen anyway

a lot of the smurf myths (ie. their.. skin? bodies? can cure every known disease) aren't true, but there's a chance any of them Could be. smurfs are just not killed often enough to prove any of them, or any real studies got lost in the rumors long ago. maybe stick to using them for gold. i also feel some rumors are either caused by other creatures that hate them, or just humans making stuff up about them believing they're fictional. there's not much they can do about it without revealing themselves y'know? even the pixies had heard rumors, more specifically "smurfs turn into hairy red-eyed monsters when they're angry"

[sturmdunkel]

🧡❄️ I mean I wouldn’t mind some longer fic recs ;) I think the chances of me reading anything are 50/50 regardless of length, so just recommend away!

And nice! Let me know if you get any of them and what you think of them <3 (I really wish I didn’t have to be on anon because I’ve been really enjoying talking to you and I feel like it would be so much easier if we could just DM…one day…when December rolls around…)

Anyway: Klara and the Sun: absolutely. I had to read a bunch of Kazuo Ishiguro for different classes and I always enjoy his stuff. Have you read Never Let Me Go? It’s technically sci-fi, and it’s one of the saddest books I’ve ever read. Very, very good, but so god damn heartbreaking.

Love, love, love Studio Trigger. I got into them because of Dungeon Meshi, then watched Promare because it looked really intriguing. I really wanna check out the rest of their stuff as well because it all looks so good and I think I would really love it…just gotta find the time lol.

Pacific Rim: Love it! Been forever since I watched it and I should probably rewatch it soon. Also love Guillermo del Toro. Such a cool dude and his stuff is amazing (still need to watch more of his works but yeah. Love GdT). 

I have heard of the murderbot diaries and they do sound fun. I’ve got too many books on my tbr already, but I’ll try to keep them in mind. Same for all the anime/manga recs. They sound really good and I’ll try to make at least Pluto a priority! (podcasts are unfortunately not really my thing, but I heard of that one and it’s supposed to be good, so, glad you enjoyed it!)

Trigun: Watched it, loved it, almost mentioned it in my previous ask and then decided to just stick to robots with my recommendations. I absolutely adore the kind of run down, in this case almost western sci-fi vibes (early Star Wars has it too…love it when things are a little dirty and a bit gritty) and that’s definitely an aesthetic I’m thinking of bringing to the Secret Snowflake fic ;) 

And speaking of that kind of aesthetic, can’t believe I forgot to mention Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. It’s the novella that Bladerunner is based on (in case you don’t know that already) and I thought it was really interesting? It’s more noir in its grittiness, but the way it considers the humanity of androids (and really any dehumanized group that they basically stand in for) really stuck with me. 

Lastly re EVA and the Kaworu figurine: I feel ya. I really want a build kit for Unit-01, and while I found one that’s only like 40 euros, that’s a reissue and so won’t come out until march. Which is soooo long still >_< Gimme my girl now! …anyway, do you wanna hear about my aftg eva au? Because that’s all I could think of while I was watching the og anime asdfgh

…this ask is all over the place lol, but thank you for all the recommendations! I love getting recs, so no need to apologize! And I hope you have a good night (or rather good morning, since that’s probably when you’ll read this because it’s late now and you seem to be European like me)! ❄️🧡

HELLO I AM BACK!!! I am sorry for what follows,,,,recommendations!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979563. this is my favorite fic and it makes me cry but it's also like,,,so far removed from canon lmao

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52511275 this one is a Buffy au!!! I was unsure how it would work but it's super fun!! :DDD and good for the Halloween mood

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339167 this is the fic I mentioned last time!! It's very fun and also mostly centered around kevin (and the fic that made me like him when I read it a few years ago lol)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301118 this one is a very good jerejean fic but it doesn't follow much of anything that happened in tsc since it got published in 2018 lol but I absolutely love it

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148854/chapters/52870225 also a good jerejean fic!! If you know german and want to read a 400k monster

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383520/chapters/40910960 this one is also one of my favorites but it's once again like 7 degrees removed from canon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118755 the josten minyard rivalry,,,,that's it,,,,(very fun)

I actually got Exhalation by Ted Chiang yesterday but I'm not sure when I'll have the time to start it,,,,hopefully soon if work and uni don't become too hectic :P (and I also need to finish entangled life by merlin sheldrake) (December!!!! Can't wait >:DDD also don't worry I don't mind making a fool of myself publicly so we can chat like this too!!!)

I have not read never let me go but it is now a priority on my reading list!!

Dungeon Meshi!!!! Trigun!!!! Aaaaaa!!!! I love them so much,,,,,I made an aftg au for both at some point lmao,,,, :" no series is safe with me,,,

Also yes I did read do androids dream of electric sheep and so far the only other person who I know has read it is a friend who for some reason despises it lmao :"

Oh??????? Eva01 kit,,,,only 40 euros,,,do you perchance have a link for it? Haha

EVA AU????? PLEASE TELL ME MORE!!!!

I believe one day we will write normal sized messages,,,until then it's pretty fun to write letters haha :P (also yes I am definitely from Europe)

[ticklystuff]

Hello! Sorry If you weren’t taking requests because I don’t really know-

But.. can I request a lee venti fic with zhongli as the ler, maybe zhongli tickling venti as a punishment for talking about him behind his back? Idk but feel free to ignore this

HEWWO sorry anon you sent this months ago so i hope you're still around to see this but i totally forgot that you had an idea in mind for this pairing, so what i wrote isn't really related to what you asked lol sorry but i decided to make it halloween themed! i wrote this in an hour so it's kinda rushed but i wanted to get it out before halloween is over but i hope you enjoy!

"Zhongli, trick or treat?!"

"Neither."

Venti huffed as the other man continued to flip through the book in his hand, unwilling to look up at him as he spoke. "C'mon Zhongli! I didn't come all this way from Monstadt for you to be a party pooper." Granted, Venti didn't have much of a choice. This was the year Monstadt decided to be more kid-friendly for Halloween and as a result, the bars had swapped from free taste testing to just giving away candy like all the other stores. Since his own region was of no interest to him for the season, why not make a trip to Liyue to not only experience their Halloween, but also visit an old friend?

"I'm too old for these games, as are you," Zhongli replied bluntly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. "The funeral parlor is a hotspot during Halloween night, so why don't you entertain the trick-or-treaters that stop by instead?"

Venti crossed his arms with a sigh. "I didn't come all this way to do your job for you."

"Well, I'm not sure what you want from me."

"I want you to choose trick or treat," Venti whined incessantly. "Please? It'll be fun!"

With a sigh, Zhongli finally looked up at Venti, closing the book in the process. "Very well. I'll go with treat."

"Ooohh, sorry," Venti giggled to himself. "I actually don't have any treats on me because I had to eat them while I made the journey here, so you'll have to choose trick orrrrrr.. trick!" He had to stifle his laughter as Zhongli gave him a blank stare, clearly unamused by his usual antics.

"Alright, trick," Zhongli said through his teeth, clearly on the verge of losing his patience.

"Okay, okay, stick out your hand for a handshake," Venti explained excitedly, watching as Zhongli reluctantly did as he was told. Before the older man could change his mind, Venti grabbed the hand with his own and held firmly, bursting out into laughter as he watched Zhongli nearly jump and quickly retract his hand, his face morphed into an expression of shock.

"W-What was that?!"

"It was my buzzer!" Venti said, holding up his hand to show the button that was strapped to his palm. "It gives someone the tingles when they press the button."

Zhongli blinked twice, his face emotionless as Venti continued to giggle in front of him. "It was my fault for expecting you to be above these things."

"Oh, come on! It was funny!"

"Alright, how about you then? Trick or treat?" Zhongli spoke, folding his arms at Venti. The bard took a moment to scan Zhongli's face for what mischievousness he might have within him, though, it'd certainly be out of character with how stern Zhongli usually was. 

"Treat," Venti said once he deemed it safe. "Please, surprise me."

Zhongli stood up from his desk and began to walk to the front door. "We only have the candy by the front door," he said over his shoulder and Venti sighed in response. Well, at least it was something.

 While Zhongli rummaged through the basket by the door, Venti took the chance to flip through the book that Zhongli was preoccupied with earlier, even sitting at his desk as he did so. This didn't last, though, as the bard deemed the book to be too boring for his tastes. He couldn't fathom why Zhongli would bother reading about Liyue's history, especially considering he lived through it. 

Soon enough, a large shadow creeped over the desk and Venti looked up to see Zhongli standing beside the desk, looking down at him. "What'd you get me, good sir?" Venti spoke with a cheeky grin to contrast Zhongli's stone expression.

"My apologies," Zhongli began, kneeling down to Venti's height as he spoke. "It appears we're all out of treats."

Venti quirked an eyebrow at the older man, puzzled by the empty-handedness. "Wait, hold on, when I got here, there was some by the- aHH! ZhonghlihiHIHIHI! WhAHAHahahat ahahahare-!"

"A trick for a trick of course," Zhongli spoke over Venti's laughter as the other wiggled in the chair, trying to avoid the hands that had suddenly attacked his sides, squeezing and prodding freely to make the bard sing. "You should know how things in Liyue work by now."

"NOHOHOHOHO!" Venti shook his head, squirming every which way to avoid the fingers that began to run up to his ribs, nearly toppling off the chair on multiple occasions, though, Zhongli made sure to hold him steady, ensuring he had no chance of escape. He threw his head back in as little squeaks of laughter flew out of his mouth every time Zhongli's fingers nipped at his ribs, kicking his legs at the desk in protest.

"It seems we both find this much more amusing than your juvenile trick," Zhongli mused, much to Venti's chagrin. His fingers began to spread out to the sensitive underarms and Venti did his best to clamp his arms down, but Zhongli was determined as he snuck his fingers through. "Aren't you glad you made the trip?"

"HehehehEHAHAHA! Zhonglihihi! PleheheHAHEASE!" He was barely able to comprehend the question over the sound of his own laughter as Zhongli went in for the kill, prying Venti's underarms open to really make him squeal. The older archon was much too strong and all Venti could do in response was hunch over in the chair, slapping uselessly as Zhongli continued to exploit his worst spots, his forced laughter echoing throughout the old building.

Thankfully, a sudden knock came from the door, followed by a tiny voice that rang "trick or treat!" prompting Zhongli to remove his hands from Venti in order to head for the door.

"Ah, it seems that my job for the night has begun," Zhongli remarked with a sigh, opening one of the drawers of his desk and reaching for a pair of cat ears. "I hope you enjoyed the trick. Feel free to try for more, if you'd like."

Venti slouched over tiredly at the desk as he watched Zhongli fit the headpiece atop his head, before opening the door with a forced "Happy Halloween!" for the children outside. The idea of getting Zhongli back with his own tricks to embarrass him in front of the crowd rolled around in his head, though he figured that'd pretty much be a death sentence for himself. Still, the holiday had been more eventful than the last. He smiled to himself, thinking of all the possible tricks he could play on Zhongli next year.

[hrina]

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

      October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

      October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

[allwaswell16]

This is part two of my One Direction University/College fic recs as requested in this ask. I was just going to update the rec, but then I had so many new, amazing fics to add not to mention a few favs that I left off the last list that I decided to make an entire part two to the rec. You can find the first rec here. You can find all my other fic recs here. Please leave kudos and comments for the writers if you enjoy the fic! 

Happy reading! 

Larry

🎒 A Distant Hazy Light, @greenfeelings / green_feelings (M, 76k, uni au, a/b/o, alpha Louis, omega Harry, music industry, music mogul Louis, uni student Harry, mating cycles, pining, sexual tension, slow burn, soul bond, angst, part 1 of series)

🎒 thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in, @absoloutenonsense / nonsensedarling (E, 52k, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, frat boy Harry, emotional hurt/comfort, uni au, pining, scenting, Louis wears Harry’s clothes, fluff, friends to lovers, dirty talk, smut)

🎒 Say It Back, @quelsentiment / wordsnnotes (T, 39k, uni au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, research lab, coworkers, loneliness, past character death, grief, social anxiety, friendship, asexuality, no smut)

🎒 Take A Chance On Me, @peachypetalhazz / Etoilenoire (E, 39k, uni au, crush, pining, insecure Harry, shy Harry, house party, secret admirer, blind date, concert, smut)

🎒 You Don’t Have To Be Lonely This Christmas, @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (T, 35k, Advent fic, uni au, roommates, Christmas, library, household disasters, getting together, humor, sick Harry)

🎒 Compete Against the Stars, @daggerandrose​ / amomentoflove (M, 30k, uni au, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, arranged marriage, pining, nesting, scenting, fluff, angst, smut)

🎒 Introduction to Dynamics, @juliusschmidt (E, 29k, uni au, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, outspoken Louis, rut, heat, coming of age, presenting, masturbation, knotting, smut)

🎒 Campus Creatures, @kingsofeverything & @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (E, 25k, uni au, vampires, werewolves, fae, fraternities, pranks, vampire Harry, werewolf Louis, lab partners, enemies to lovers, smut)

🎒 (summer is over) and i wanna leave you satisfied, @doncasterkitten / patdkitten (M, 25k, college au, royal au, one night stand, ballet dancer Louis, hockey player Harry, miscommunication, smut)

🎒 Anonymous Said, @alivingfire (T, 21k, uni au, bookstore, coming of age, coming out, homophobia, tumblr, anonymous messages, mistaken identiy kind of)

🎒 blend into my favourite colour, @rainbowninja / rainbowninja167 (T, 19k, coffee shop, social media, tumblr, fandom, uni, pining, fluff)

🎒 pink like the paradise found, @disgruntledkittenface​ (M, 18k, girl direction, uni au, student Harry, student Louis, bartender Louis, lesbian bar, flirting, fluff, pet names, sexual awakening, first time, smut)

🎒 (It's New) The Shape of Your Body, @fallinglikethis​ (M, 18k, uni au, enemies to friends to lovers, uni au, roommates, mpreg Louis, accidental pregnancy, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, football, mutual pining, no smut)

🎒 I couldn’t face a life without your lights. @louisandsass (M, 15k, uni au, exes to lovers, flashbacks, enemies with benefits, jealousy, getting back together, angst with a happy ending, smut, bl)

🎒 Smells Like Omega Spirit, @lululawrence (NR, 11k, college au, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, scenting, neutralizers, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort, mating cycles, nesting, flirting, pining, no smut)

🎒 if you're lost just look for me, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same (T, 9k, uni au, strangers to lovers, drama student Louis, sociology student Harry, LGBT group, motivational quotes, stress, no angst, no smut)

🎒 Shine, @littlelouishiccups (E, 8k, girl direction, uni au, pining, friends to lovers, roommates, coming out, fluff, first time, smut)

🎒 streetwise hercules, @bottomlinsons (G, 7k, uni au, coffee shop, friends to lovers, fake/pretend relationship, jealous Harry, idiots to lovers, oblivious walnuts)

🎒 i’m sticking to you like glue, @hugoweasley / peanutbutterapple (G, 6k, Halloween fic, time jumps, uni au, pining, sick Louis, fluff)

🎒 Tastes like Strawberries, @sadaveniren (E, 5k, uni au, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, grad students, mistaken identity kind of, rimming, nesting, heat, bed sharing, smut) 

🎒 you're safe like spring time, @soldouthaz​ (E, 4k, uni au, library, enemies to lovers, storm, pwp, dry humping, grinding)

🎒 What a Difference a Day Makes, @phd-mama / phdmama (M, 3k, college au, frat boy Harry, pre med student Louis, house party, enemies to lovers, first impressions, oral sex)

🎒 I don't want a taste (I want it all), @thedaggerrose​ (E, 3k, uni au, avocado toast, Facebook post arguments, hipster Harry, fluff, humor, banter, booty call, smut)

Lilo

🎒 Heart Skips A Beat, harriet_vane (T, 27k, Louis/Liam, Harry/Zayn, uni au, meet cute, meet drunk lol, alcohol, club, first time, kissing, Harry pov, getting together)

🎒 Hesitate, @allwaswell16 (E, 3k, Louis/Liam, uni au, breakup, fwb, best friends, childhood friends, getting back together, house party, flirting, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, smut)

Tomlinshaw

🎒 Not Your Fault But Mine, @magicalrocketships / sunsetmog (E, 152k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw, uni au,  friendship, depression, anxiety, hurt/comfort, drinking, panic attacks, minor self harm, mental health issues, jealousy, angst with a happy ending)

Ziam

🎒 If you let me be your man, @lightwoodsmagic (E, 5k, Zayn/Liam, uni au, a/b/o, alpha Liam, omega Zayn, heat, strangers to lovers, bonding, pet names, fluff, smut, nesting)

[yuzukult]

from home 04 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 7.4k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: so so so thankful that from home 01 has reached over 400 notes! this is a huge milestone for me so thank you all that reblogged, liked, and replied to my chapters because it means so much to me! so grateful for all of your support because i never thought any of my fics would get any attention! honestly, not my best chapter, but i have plans for from home 05 that are more exciting to write lol please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup ← previous chapter || next chapter →

You’d never invite him over to your apartment without the company of Hoseok. So why did you ask him to come over and just him?

Jungkook is anxious. Other than the fact that you've requested for his company on a Friday night, he hasn't really spoken to you alone ever since that weekend at his parents' estate. You weren't avoiding him, at least that's what he speculates, but there wasn't much 'alone time' and he was starting to feel insecure about how you felt about your relationship.

Rephrase. Fake relationship, he means.

The brisk, heavy wind smacks his face when he steps out of his apartment, ready to be on route to your house with the address you sent over just minutes ago. Cheeks flushing crimson, he pulls his denim coat with sherpa lining closer, suddening wishing that Hyungjin was still driving him on days like this, oh how lucky Old Jungkook was. 

15 minutes is what the GPS on his phone says, grateful that his mother hasn't cut off his line with the money because he honestly wouldn't have known what to do if he didn't have it. What did people use back then when they needed to go somewhere they've never been to before? He'd have to google that later. His hands are occupied, looking for warmth in his pockets. 

His fingers are curled frozen by the time he reaches the front of your apartment, face pale with only the tint in his nose and cheeks. There's something swirling in his gut—whether it's gas or he's just plain nervous, he's not exactly sure, but he knows that this is the first time he's ever been to your apartment and it's not the same feeling he gets when he's at his one night stands.

Once you receive his text, the buzzer goes off, allowing him to enter into the hallway of your apartment building and how different it is compared to his is astonishing. Other than the fact that the wallpaper was tearing off and the carpets look like it's been years since someone last vacuumed it, the lights were dim, giving off a spooky aura despite Halloween being a month ago.

"Apartment 344," He reiterates to himself from your message, following the instructions underneath that had been oddly specific. "Don't go into elevator car six. Six breaks down after floor two, and five is missing a button for floor three, so only car eight works without a chance of you being stuck in it. There's a smell, so you'll just have to hold your breath."

Weird. So Elevator Eight then?

When he finally reaches your floor, he nearly faints when he walks out. It smelled like a combination of pee and weed with a sprinkle of air freshener which wasn't much help. 

344. The black printed numbers are inscribed in the gold plaque that isn't real gold because it's peeling and the surface underneath it is brown. When you come to the door after he knocks, he can't help but gush at the sight of you. 

Oversized hoodie and shorts with your hair tied in a low bun, strands that fall out effortlessly and frame your no-makeup face, his heart almost jerks out of his chest. It's not fair that someone so mean can be so pretty.

"Hey," You say, breathless. "Come in. I'm in the middle of cooking up dinner. Have you ever had a home cooked meal?"

He furrows his brows. "Uh, the chefs usually put something together at the estate."

"Is it even called home-cooked if you call your house an estate?" 

"Well—" You wave him off, stepping aside for him to enter. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Your apartment is you in a version of a place. Outside entering in, he thinks it's intimidating and tends to throw people off, with the impression that it's not somewhere you'd want to be at. Yet your home itself— he finds that the confined space between where the TV sits on the shelf, books residing in the cubes beneath, across from where a grey love-seat couch is placed is a resemblance of serenity. The kitchen is relatively small, even smaller than his current studio apartment, but everything about it here feels cosy. "It's nice," He hums in content, slipping off his jacket to hang on the coat rack nearby. "I never thought your place would be so... comfortable."

"What'd you think it was going to be? A white void?" Well, you're not wrong, but he fears you so he figured it was best to not respond to that. "So... what are you cooking?"

"Couple things, actually. I even cooked some rice. What did you usually eat when you were living at home— I mean, the estate?" Leading him into the kitchen, which didn't really need much guidance with the short square footage of the apartment, he still can't believe that this place is your own. "American food? Italian? Just generally European? Our chef is from England, and studied somewhere in France. Not much Korean, if I'm being honest."

"Then... is it even home cooked? Take a seat."

He sits at the little round table centered in the middle of the kitchen, a couple recipe books stacked to the side, just enough room for the two of you to work with. "I guess not. You never answered my question, what did you make?"

"Mm... Kimchi Jjigae, bulgogi, and some stir fried veggies. I even baked something for dessert."

Something about this view of you working over the stove, plating the food and side dishes onto the table that makes it feel so domestic. He likes you like this—clear faced without trying so hard, despite thinking how beautiful you looked during the charity event, this felt refreshing.

"Alright," You cheer, handing him a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks. "Let's dig in."

"Can I ask you something?" You're in the midst of putting some beef into his serving before looking up. "What is it?"

"Why... Are you being so nice to me? I haven't heard a jab since I got here. And why did you invite me over? Not even Hoseok joining in, just us two. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were trying to avoid me ever since you got to see what it was like to be in my family but then you asked me to come over. I’m a little confused."

Chewing on your bottom lip, your shoulders slouch as you drop your body back against the seat. "Honestly?" He nods. "I've been putting you in a weird spot. I don't like you because you have money, look down on other people who don't have those opportunities, and to be fair, you're very ignorant to this life stuff. You almost bought something from the Supreme drop until Hoseok stole your phone away from you." Fiddling with the kimchi sitting in it's plate, you poke at it with your chopsticks. "You took me back to your family house but it wasn't a house. You called it an estate then you proceeded to show me that you have no real relationship with your brothers. I get why you'd come to those events drunk, and I felt bad."

He scoffs. "So you pitied me."

"Well— no, I just... I just wanted you to know the feeling of home. What home really feels like, and how it's a place you find yourself wanting to come back to. I'm trying somewhat to show it through food—" You gesture the meal that you spent hours on. "—and possibly other ways. I'm not pitying you, I just don't think it's fair."

Jungkook's face softens. "You... don't think it's fair for me. You've always said things aren't fair for you, how I get all these things and I'm provided with so many advantages and now... you're siding with the rich?"

"No, not siding with the rich. Siding with you, Jeon Jungkook. Or, Kookie, whatever your sister-in-law calls you." He can’t help but laugh, as embarrassing as the nickname is to him because he’s too elated that you see him in a different light now. Maybe Hoseok was right. Learning a thing or two from you would be beneficial for him, if anything.

“Here— have some more of this,” You say before hauling a load of veggies into his bowl and he can only smile at the gesture.

“So,” Jungkook begins, finishing washing the last dish in the sink. Truth be told, he offered because you so kindly prepared a delicious dinner for him, but he needed guidance on how to actually do the chore. “What’s the dessert?”

It’s cute— the way you squirt the bottle of dish soap into the sponge in his hands, teaching him how to properly clean after himself. He feels like a baby being taught how to do the basic life tasks, low-key wishing that he could just ask Hana or Nayeon to do it instead— but it’s you beside him, telling him he needs to thoroughly scrub in order to get the tough grease stains out. He’d say, “how can you tell if it’s still greasy?” and despite you rolling your eyes and responding back, “by touching it?” something about tonight feels different than when you do it at the grocery store.

“Cinnamon rolls!” There’s a sparkle in your eye, exuberant about getting a target to fixate on. “I can pop it back in the oven for a couple minutes to get it all warm again.”

He agrees, wiping his hand off on a rag hanging by the sink, watching as you eagerly pop two buns on a tray, slipping it into the pre-heated oven. “I want you to try the things I bake from scratch... since you’re kind of investing in me.”

“It’s an exchange, more like I’m paying you.”

You grumble, rubbing your face in your hands. “No, no, no, don’t just give me money, Jungkook. If anything includes you putting cash of any form into my palms, it means you’re investing in me because you believe in me.”

Jungkook frowns. “But I do believe in you. Why do I have to keep saying that? You have the characteristics of a trustworthy person. Why else would I have asked you to be my girlfriend?”

“Pretend girlfriend,” you rectify, pointing in his direction, “... you chose me to be your pretend girlfriend. Even so, what if I’m a bad baker?”

A chortle escapes from Jungkook’s lips, shaking his head in disbelief. “OK, ok. Keep baking me goods. If in the end, I think you’re a horrible baker, I won’t ‘invest’ in your business, but I’ll invest in you instead. You keep the money. Do whatever you please with it, even if it means opening a really bad bakery. You’re helping me out here by fake dating me. My father has already personally called me on four occasions, asking when we’re visiting again.”

There it sits. The cinnamon bun. Or roll. Whichever it is— but there you are, directly leaning against the table across from him, eyes watching him attentively. Thoughts start running in his mind like; what if it actually tastes horrific like the possibility you mentioned? What would he do then? You both had already gone as far as meeting his family, he’s too deep in. 

“Stop thinking and just eat.” You say discernibly, impatient with his indecisiveness. Using the fork you provided, he pierces through the the pastry and the cut is buttery smooth, requiring no effort. When he brings it to his mouth, the moment it touches the tip of his tongue, it practically melts, dissolving in contact with his saliva, awakening up his taste buds. It’s sweet, the cinnamon with the brown sugar and butter, yet not overwhelming enough to turn it away because something about it just brings life into you again.

His mouth parts open, gaping in awe. “Oh my god,” he mutters with his cheeks full of the pastry, “W-what, oh my god. Did you drug me or something? Because there’s no way it tastes that good.”

“No— but then I made a home-made yeast dough where I added some more ingredients to transform it into an enriched dough, and that contributes to it’s soft interior with a more fragile crumb. Then the filling, I brushed on butter after rolling the dough out to a rectangle—“ 

“I-I don’t need the details,” Jungkook stutters with a nervous laugh but you were going to go off for hours if he hadn’t stopped you. “I think if all the things you make taste just as good as this, I’m impressed. You’ve sold me. But... I have to ask, why a bakery? I looked up what it means to be someone in your field with your degree and people go off to do product development, maybe research in processed foods— this isn’t necessarily close to being a baker. I honestly don’t know why my father asked you to take part of the restaurant chain he’s planning on building.” 

“Oh,” Pursing up your lips you tap your fingers against the wooden table, heaving out a sigh. “I’m surprised you did some research.”

“Well, you taught me to do some extensive exploration before I invest in something.” He shoots back.

“I wanted to go to culinary school, simple as that. I told you, I love Guy Fieri and wouldn’t it be crazy if he went to my bakery and put me on his show?” Jungkook is keeping this in his back pocket for future teasing, but you seem so dazed when you talk about your dreams that he has to refrain himself. “But I couldn’t just go to culinary school, no, my parents would kill me. So, I chose something as close as possible and so here I am. I should get into product development, maybe I can be part of something that could be preserved and easily accessible to help feed third world countries but— I don’t know how long I’d be able to sit in a lab for. I want to make people happy, see them walk through the front doors and hear the bell ring along with their footsteps, see their faces lit up when they eat what I made.”

There’s a lot of things he can point out in your expression when you talk about your dreams, them being how your eyes become the pools of chocolate cupcakes, swirling dark and sweet, and how your lips look so pillowy pink like a fluffy buttercream frosting. Within your voice, there’s so much certainty that holds it, credence along with each syllable you sing, words rising like the yeast in bread. Wholeheartedly, he wants to back you up on your aspirations, solely from the way you’ve sold them but at the same time, he feels this green-eyed envious being within him that wishes he had something to be equally as passionate about.

Money can only be ardor for so long, an inanimate object that can eventually lose its meaning if the world goes to shreds. It’s value will be there when emphasized but what if it didn’t exist? What did Jungkook like?

It’s a constant battle he finds himself placed in, especially when he absentmindedly scans the groceries for the customers, reiterating the same phrases every couple minutes with a new total tailing behind it. His uniform fits too well these days, stability making a name-tag on the chest pocket of his apron, and he’s not sure what to make of it. 

He has an ivy league degree in international business, but what does he do with it? Currently, he’s asking customers how their day was, what the end price of their shopping run is, and hoping the rest of their day is well. Four years grinding hard at a prestigious university and for what?

He used to look down on people like you and Hoseok, with a belief that their placement in the supermarket was a controllable decision on their part, but visually seeing and hearing the other employees speak about their struggles of the inability to access higher education or finding difficulty in providing for their families so they throw away their dreams for a daily life in the deli section— he wants more because he’s able to, and he doesn’t want it given to him.

Yet, Jungkook still doesn’t have a dream. And according to you, he doesn’t have a home either.

Obviously, Jungkook has been through many flings. He's even said so himself and the women who have stirred up scandals on media outlets are evidence of it but never in your life did you think that you'd find yourself in this position, blankly staring at a girl weeping in front of you as you're in the midst of restocking laundry detergent onto one of the shelves in the middle of an aisle.

"He's supposed to love me," She bawls, eyes swollen from her crying previously. The girl is barely a couple inches shorter than you with long, straight black hair that stretches down to her lower back, waist so small you could wrap your hands around her. "Jungkook told me that I was the only girl for him and nobody else. So who are you? What'd you do? What's so great about you?"

"Uh, beats me," Rubbing the back of your neck in consternation, you're not sure what to do. There's about a handful of these supermarkets in Seoul alone, so how did she even find which one you worked at? "Um... Have you talked to him about this?"

"N-N-No," The pretty girl stutters, lips quivering. "I went to the estate and they kicked me out, said he doesn't live there anymore but I think they're lying to me."

"Jungkook doesn't live there anymore." You confirm, typing something into your price gun. "He moved out into the city."

"H-He did?" She retorts, eyes glimmering in hope. "That means they didn't lie to me just to kick me to the curb. He really moved out, he's not living there anymore?" You nod, glancing up at the girl who is supposedly Jungkook's ex-girlfriend or in his eyes, one late night affair. She really fits his ideal type—one that you've accidentally discovered when you came across an article of his on one of those gossip magazines... that you googled. Nonetheless, you learn that he's into girls like her—skinny, long straight hair, feminine with a soft, high-pitched voice. Nothing wrong with those things, you just observed that none of those things are you.

"Maeri?" Why does that name sound familiar? 

Jungkook rushes his way down the aisle to stand by your side, gaze immediately glued onto you. "Hey, you alright? Did she say or do anything to you?"

"No," You respond, blinking rapidly at his sudden action. There's a girl who's crying her eyes out right in front of him and yet he's asking if you were okay? "But she claims to be your current girlfriend or ex—whatever it was, I don't remember. Kind of your problem and somehow I'm roped into this."

"And you picked her? Even though she speaks to you like that?" Maeri whimpers, nose pink and lips swelling. "She doesn't even treat you the way that I do. I can't understand why you would just drop us and pick her!"

"Maeri," He says, voice soft and gentle, completely different from what you're used to. Jungkook leans over, hand flatly pressed against her mid-back, rubbing soothingly to calm her nerves. "You're also my dad's assistant. It would've never worked out. He would've found out what we were up to and be completely against it." So that's why the name sounded so familiar, Jungkook's dad requested him to make an appointment with him through his assistant, Maeri.

... Question is, why would he do something so risky and get involved with his dad's personal assistant?

"B-B-But..."

"Listen," You quickly interject, dropping the price gun onto the car where the array of laundry detergent bottles sit. "This feels like a private conversation. You can finish this after you talk with her, I'll just find something else to do."

"Wait—" But before Jungkook could even grab you, Maeri already has her grasp tightened around his wrists, pulling him in close. "Jungkook, don't go. Talk to me, please?" He sighs when he sees you don't even glance back.

It's a bit infuriating, you think, to hear some girl complain about how you're not worthy enough for a guy that you'd previously thought wasn't even good enough for you. You were somewhat decently looking, right? Or so, that's what you thought.

"You good?" Hoseok interrupts your thoughts, brows furrowed in confusion. "Seem kinda lost there."

You hum, resuming back to stacking up the apples in the produce section because Jungkook was doing your task instead due to the incident. Truth be told, you hated here in produce, because since you first stepped foot into this section, six old women had already tried starting small talk. But anything to get out of that conversation between him and Maeri. "Well, I just saw Kim Maeri over there with boogers dripping from her nose because Jeon Jungkook suddenly has new arm candy."

Rolling your eyes, you threaten to throw the apple in your hand at him. "Not arm candy. Girlfriend."

"Ohhhh," Hoseok teases, hands slipping into the front pocket of his apron. "Not arm candy but rather girlfriend. Not so fake anymore? So, who confessed first? You or our clueless Kook?"

"Hoseok, not in the mood. I just dealt with some weird girl crying over a guy I'm not even really dating, weeping on for twenty minutes about how I'm not good enough for him."

"Why? Are you sad because you think it's somewhat true?"

Your glare nearly kills him. "No, but it's not easy to hear. I mean—he's this guy who doesn't even know what to prioritize in his spendings, can't even properly do his laundry without dying some of his whites, and he doesn't know how to clean after himself. And yet she thinks he's too good for me?" Scoffing in disbelief, you slam an apple onto the pile and Hoseok grimaces, hand on your wrist. "Please don't bruise the apples."

You sigh and he lets go of his grip. "Sorry. But am I that mean?"

"No, no, don't say it like that, of course you're not. Sure, you sound sorta insensitive sometimes but you mean well. Or else Jungkook and I wouldn't willingly spend time with you, right?"

"I'm your timesheet approver and Jungkook is using me to get back at his parents. I don't know about that."

Hoseok rolls his eyes, handing you the apples from the inventory cart as you continue to organize them onto each other. "If that's the case, I wouldn't actually help you out when we're not at work. You don't have enough authority here for me to kiss your ass my way up for a promotion here. And Jungkook— although, true, yes, he's asking that from you but he wouldn't just willingly see you or try to spend time with you outside of work. Stop being so insecure because some pretty girl came by."

"Uh, Hey." Jungkook appears out of thin air, startling both you and Hoseok. "I... restocked the detergent like you asked. I can take over this if you'd like, I know you don't really like working in the produce section because the grandmas like to start conversations up with you."

A smile tugs on the edges of Hoseok's lips, suggestively eyeing you before stepping back. "I'm gonna go find myself elsewhere..." Then he jolts before you can get a word in.

"I'm good," Turning back to the pyramid of fruits, you're content with how it looks so far yet Jungkook doesn't seem to share the same pleasant expression. "I'm almost done anyways."

"She's not... we've never dated," He says, swallowing his nerves. In all honesty, he's unsure why he feels the need to justify his relationship with her and elaborate the story behind it, but he gives into the urges nonetheless. "Just a fling. We slept with each other a couple times because I liked the rush it gave me, knowing that if my dad knew I slept with his favorite assistant of all time, I'd be done for."

Silent and brushing your hands off from the debris, you avoid chiming into his story. Was he telling this to you because you’re his supervisor or because of the weird relationship that’s going on between the two of you? “Uh, it’s fine. It happens. Wasn’t necessarily your fault, it was unavoidable. At least that over with, right?”

Jungkook scratches the back of his head quietly, the ponytail on his head bouncing slightly. “About that... there’s an event this weekend.” After brushing over the details, you don’t say much, striving to finish the pyramid of apples, Jungkook assisting by taking over Hoseok’s spot. “I have a question.”

“What’s up?” You don’t shift your attention away from the red fruit.

He clears his throat. “Are you and Hoseok a thing?” Letting out an airy laugh, your eyes finally meet his. “Of course not. He’s just a very involved and caring friend. Nothing more, and he isn’t really my type. Plus, I’m sure he’s not over Hyeri.”

Jungkook nods, pulling his lips into a straight line because he’s trying to hold back a smile. You and Hoseok were not a thing, which meant that there was one thing less he didn’t have to worry about.

Maeri found you through the instruction of Mr. Jeon; he said that his wife had mentioned your current employment at two of her chains and this was her second attempt after wailing over at the coffee shop, hoping that the second location was a charm. Meeting Jungkook there was really a coincidence, in all fairness, because apparently Mr. Jeon didn’t say anything about Jungkook being there—his main target had been you.

“He wants you to come with me to another event... but it requires some travel.” Jungkook told you, feeling a bit guilty because you had just spent a weekend at his parents estate barely a couple days ago. This means begging your supervisor at the supermarket and the café to let you call off for the next week. Hopefully in the end it’s all worth it...

When Jungkook says travel, this is not what you thought it was going to be.

“We can either take the private plane there with my family or ride the train.” You don’t hesitate to pick the latter option, evading the potential family argument that would blossom in seconds if you were to be stuck in a cabin full of the Jeons. 

You don’t recognize the awkward position you put Jungkook in until you’re standing on the platform, waiting for your train’s arrival with a duffle bag in hand, body hidden underneath a heavy winter coat. “Oh. Have you ever rode on the train before?” He shakes his head ‘no’ and you frown. Maybe you should’ve taken the plane there, Jungkook would’ve been more comfortable. And as if he read your thoughts, he nudges you with his elbows, hands dug into the pockets of his jacket. “Since you’re popping my train cherry, take it easy on me, will you?’

He’s perhaps a little funny, but you’re not going to cave into that.

Busan— is what your ticket says, from Seoul to Busan. Honestly, you had never been in Busan before but you recall Jungkook saying that it was his birthplace and he’d be more than happy to guide you through the nooks and cranny of the largest port city in South Korea. 

Once you reach the city, it’s completely different from Seoul. The buildings are condensed, there’s so many markets yet at the same time, there’s just as many people there are in Seoul. Hyungjin is holding a sign that says, “Jeon Jungkook,” written on it in bold letters, bowing when he sees your fake-boyfriend, just as eager as Jungkook. “I’m glad they asked you to pick me up again.”

“Well, I requested it, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh please, I’m sure you didn’t. You hated having to drive me home whenever I was partying.”

Hyungjin shakes his head with a grin plastered on his face. “I did, perhaps. However you are a new man now with a very intelligent woman by your side, so I can almost guarantee that you’ve changed. Much more likable, Mr. Jeon. Please, let me take you to your hotel.”

You nearly have a nosebleed just from the view from your room.

The sea is beautiful, despite the grey clouds that hover the water from the colder weather but the charm could never be hidden. Apparently, the hotel that Jungkook’s parents had booked for the two of you was a 5-star hotel, spas, pools, restaurants and everything included and some that you can see from your balcony. 

“Holy shit, Jungkook, is there where you grew up?”

“No, not in a hotel.” He laughs, watching as you move around the room like a little kid to see every trinket the hotel had to offer. “My grandparents’ house is just down the road, and I’m sure they want to meet you. We can do some stuff beforehand and meet them for a late lunch with the rest of the family. How’s that sound?”

Jungkook is your tour guide for the day— taking you to the market where they sell merchandise with idols faces on it, snacks, and so on. He takes you to see the Gamcheon Culture Village, a place where homes are condensed that are splatters of the rainbow and filled with painted murals. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and everything is just a bit more enjoyable with a tall little kid standing by your side.

He takes you to the Haeundae Beach, where a story he tells is a place he recalls biking with brothers when he lived there during the summers. Once they were a bit older and found interest in girls, he stopped going since the only thing he looked forward to was spending time with his siblings there. 

When you meet his grandparents at their humble home, his brothers are already there with his parents, paying their respects and doing their ‘routine’ to visit them at least once a month, apparently. You assumed the family would have neglected their grandparents with the presence of wealth, but it was nice to see that his parents still kept their roots.

“This is Jungkook’s girlfriend?” His grandma says in a mixture awe and disbelief, glancing back at his mother and you. “I’m so glad, he hasn’t been here to visit me in a long time. Did you convince him?”

You shake your head in response, bending down to sit across from her. “No, he asked if I’d like to come.”

“He wants to introduce his pretty girlfriend to his grandparents, of course! Why else?”

From the corner, Jungkook can see Jongseok twitching in annoyance at the attention you were gaining from their grandparents, complimenting while pinching your cheeks, pleased with who Jungkook had ended up with. “Smart and beautiful, will you wed her soon or else someone else sweeps her off her feet?”

“I’ll try,” Jungkook says with uncertainty, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “It’s really up to her though.”

“Then make it so that she can’t say no!” His grandfather chimes in.

Lunch had been nice with his family; it had been a lot tamer than the conversations at the dinner table in the Jeon’s. For one, it seemed like if anyone had anything bad to say, they refrained themselves from doing so in respect for their frail grandparents.

Back at the hotel, you stand with your arms rested against the rail of the balcony, your hair blows with the wind, strands getting into your face as you attempt to push them away, only for Jungkook to lean in, gently brushing them out your way. He’s close— so close that you can feel his breathing against your cheek and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath when you exhale after he steps back. “There,” he grins, proud of his work, “looks good.” Was he talking about how he completed the task well or that you looked good?

“It’s... really nice here, Jungkook.” If it weren’t for this arrangement, you never would’ve found the time or money to come here unexpectedly, especially with how much money you were trying to save to open up the bakery. Enjoying the finer things in life proved burdensome since one of the things on the list of adulting was knowing what your priorities were. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten the chance to explore Busan if it weren’t for you.”

“You... you should take a break every now and then,” Jungkook suggests, leaning beside you. Everything about the sea at night is striking; the gusts of wind from the waves, the lights at the pool from the hotel, the sky, sparkling with stars from above that causes a glimmer in your eyes, swirls of mocha full of wonder and excitement. “You overwork yourself to death. You’re completely burnt out. Yet at the same time you keep making time for Hoseok and I when what you really need is a spa night.”

“It’s... it’s not that easy,” You frown. “I just have so much to do.”

“I told you, let me take care of you. If I can prove to my family that I’m capable, I get the money back. I can pay you for all the things you’ve done for me, all the things you’ve taught me, everything. You need to enjoy your life before you’re old and wrinkly because by then, you won’t have the energy to do the things you want to anymore.”

“Jungkook—“

“No, let me teach you something this time around. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I think I know everything now, I just... with chilling and relaxing, I think you should let me take it from here.”

“I just—“ Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he forces you to face him, pressing them together for your lips to purse up. “No arguments. No disagreeing with me, no more of that. I need you to listen to me for once and not tell me what to do.”

Assertive Jungkook is an inconsistent version of him that’s usually feeble in comparison to you. But something about Busan’s air and water gives him the confidence he needs to stand up to you for once, and it makes your heart skip a beat. You nod in compliance, caving into what he demands. His eyes shift, trailing from the bridge of your nose to the tip, oh how he wants to give it a peck, but once they reach your lips, he realizes that’s what he really wants. 

He swallows, releasing some pressure off of his hands as you survey his distinct expression. “Jungkook, are you—” hastily, he pulls your jaw toward him, lips crashing into yours and it’s more than he expects. He swore in a not dramatic way that it felt like there were fireworks being set off behind him.

Noticing what he’d done, he quickly lets go, hands dropping at his side. “I’m sorry, I just, I couldn’t help myself but I know I said boundaries—”

Hands flying up, your thumb brushes against the soft flesh of his cheeks, hopping onto the tip of your toes, reaching up to meet as much of his height as you could, eyes hooded with your breath fanning his lips. Fingers slipping to the back of his neck, you tug him down, gingerly pushing your lips against his.

It’s gentle— the kind of kiss that Jungkook isn’t familiar with when he comes across his flings, but the way you ease your way into his parted lips and how your tongue brushes against his, it makes him feel hazy, drunk on your scent. His hands find purchase on your waist, tugging your hips to rest on his as your fingers run through his luscious hair. The length is something you’ve grown to love, a huge step from forcing him to tie it back because it hadn’t been ‘professional’ enough. And here you are, making out with your trainee on the balcony of your shared hotel room. He lets you lead the kiss momentarily before you break away, foreheads against each other, you’re both panting with tinted cheeks. “Don’t hold yourself back, please,” you beg in a whisper, completely intoxicated by everything radiating off him. 

Reaching down your thighs, he puts those muscles to use when he grabs onto them, wrapping your legs around his frame as you yelp, arms immediately hugging around his shoulders. He slides the balcony door shut with his feet, dropping you onto the bed, falling along in unison. 

There’s a smile upon his lips, a genuine one filled with admiration. Just when he’s leaning closer to you for a second round, there’s a knock on the door.  Jungkook groans, dropping his face into the crook of your neck as laughter erupts from your chest. “Go get the door.”

“Whoever it is, they just ruined this moment.” He grunts, untangling your legs from his waist to open the door.

Jongseok is leaned up against the door frame, eying his younger brother suggestively. “What were you doing?”

“None of your business,” Jungkook hisses in return. He doesn’t need to say it though because Jongseok knew from his sibling’s disheveled locks, swollen lips, flushed cheeks and labored breathing. Jongseok wasn’t going to look, but he could already tell that Jungkook was supporting a boner in those sweatpants. 

“Hm,” Jongseok hums, narrowing his gaze. “Alright then. Stopped by to tell you that mother wants us to have dinner with family tonight in about 30 minutes. Should be enough time for you to finish, right? How long does 3 pumps take?”

“Get out!” He responds through his gritted teeth, slamming the door on him.

Quickly standing up, you brush your clothes off and fix your hair in the mirror. “We should get ready to head out, I don’t want your mom to wait on us.”

“You sure? I mean we don’t have to go—“ 

“I still need to impress your parents too, right?” Hand pressed against his chest, he calms down at your touch and nods in conformity. “Alright then.”

When the two of you return from the trip, you don’t mention anything about the kiss and what it would’ve led to. Fearing that you’d back out from the agreement, Jungkook doesn’t bring it up either, despite having so many questions running through his head, discovering that there’s a small chance that he’s fallen for you.

Hoseok throws something in Jungkook’s direction, a confused expression on his face when he catches in his hands yet his body doesn’t move from the couch. “What’s this for?” He asks, opening his cupped hands to see a shiny gold key.

“That’s my apartment key,” Hoseok responds calmly, shuffling through some letters that sit on his counter. “For whenever you want to come over.”

In the past month, he found himself gravitating toward not just you, but Hoseok as well, a friendship blooming from being acquaintances. Reminiscing to a time where they would only say ‘hi’ in passing, mostly for politeness because their parents had worked together before, there had never been a real bond between the two of them. And ever since he started working at the market, their friendship had escalated to hanging out with each other on the weekends or any available free-time they had.

Jungkook has friends now.

Real friends, he notes. Ones he never thought he had, ones he had only ever dreamed of, and ones that he didn’t have to bribe for them to become. He admits that whatever he has with you is a bit rocky and unknown, but after having that home-cooked dinner with you that night, he feels like you’re opening up to him. 

An action from you that he rightfully earned, he likes to repeat to himself, because he can’t believe he’s able to obtain relationships with people that didn’t include money.

“You’re giving this to me? You trust me with it?”

“Well, yeah,” Hoseok nets his brows in confusion, making his way to sit beside the other male on the couch, switching his PlayStation 5 on, handing Jungkook a controller as he stares dumbfoundedly. “You come here almost every weekend, or well, recently almost every other day since I got the PS5. You’re a bro now, we’re not just some dudes that acknowledge each other at parties anymore.”

Jungkook feels like he’s soaring. His feet are hovering in the air, and his heart feels light. If this is what it feels like to have a friend who cares and enjoys spending time with, he doesn’t need to get high and wasted to obtain that feeling anymore.

“Mom, I’m not really in the mood to come back so soon.” You sigh, fingers raking through your drenched locks. It’s supposed to be a relaxing Friday night in; Jungkook bringing the pizza with wings and Hoseok grabbing the beers from the supermarket when he finishes his shift tonight. Figuring that you had some time, you’d give yourself a relaxing shower, knowing damn well you were going to need some peace and quiet temporarily with two rowdy boys coming later.

“Please,” She begs, attempting to raise her voice in a baby-ing manner. “Your sister said she was coming tomorrow morning. I would love to get the family back together. And you said so yourself last week, you’re free this weekend!” You’re starting to regret calling your mom with life updates.

The door swings open, the sight of Jungkook hauling in bags and a box in his hand. “Jeon, you can put it on the coffee table,” Pointing in the living room, he nods as you trail behind him. “You can move the books off the table and put it by the TV.”

“Jeon?” Your mom reiterates, suddenly intrigued by whomever you were at your apartment with. “Who is Jeon?” Ignoring her, you press the phone against your shoulder and cheek, freeing your hands in attempt to help Jungkook clear out the table. “Oh, Jungkook, can you close the door? It’s cold for some reason.”

“Jungkook?” She gasps the name into the phone, squealing afterwards. “You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

“What?” You reply sharply, Jungkook coming back from your request, brows knitted in confusion. “Who’s on the phone?” He mouths, you retort, “my mom” back faintly. 

“I heard you calling some guy named Jungkook. It’s just him in your apartment alone, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have some guy with you unless he’s your boyfriend, right? Oh my god, I thought you were going to be alone forever—” She yammers on, not even taking a second to breathe. “You know what? Bring him tomorrow. Don’t say no, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. I’m letting your dad and siblings know. Goodnight, dear! Sleep well! Tell Jungkook I said hi!” And with that, she hangs up.

Throwing your phone on the couch, you grumble, hands rubbing your face. “I’m assuming she thinks I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, plummeting your body onto the couch. “As much as I don’t want to do this, she’s going to attack me nonstop if I don’t bring you. Are you free tomorrow? Would you... like to meet my family? If not— it’s totally fine, I mean we’re not even really dating anyways and—“

“Of course,” He grins, settling down beside you. “This doesn’t have to just apply to my parents, you know. I am your boyfriend, not just you being my girlfriend.”

In all honesty, he finds this as an opening. Ever since your trip to Busan, he couldn’t help but see you differently out of the blue. He admits, maybe right now isn’t necessarily the best time for him to start a relationship, especially one where a business deal is involved, but he can’t help it. Something about you, since that night, he saw you underneath those lights and you’re not the same mean supervisor that he thought you’d been.

And don’t even get him started on the way you kiss.

[questinwitchface]

For WIP game! would love to hear about 6. Questionable Decisions and 7. Yellow Brick Road

Thanks for asking!

So, Questionable Decisions doesn't have much written beyond a few lines of dialogue, but I do have it plotted out. It's a stand-alone spin-off from one of my other fics, and it's about the growing relationship between Peter Parker and the trans gay guy (Oli) he met in the first fic, Pride Brought Us to Bad Decisions. The basic premise is that Peter is a freshman at MIT and living with Ned and MJ. Oli's roommate moves out to live with her boyfriend, so Oli ends up needing a place to stay, so Peter invites him to stay with them. *probably gonna be emotional parkour*

Yellow Brick Road is actually a SamSteve Halloween fic, but I didn't get it done in time for Halloween lol. I don't even really ship SamSteve, but enough of my friends do that I wanted to try writing it for them. It's... something. Here's a (long) snippet:

Then he’d met Steve and Nat. Then a lot of shit happened in a very short amount of time, and he became an Avenger. A few months later, Nat was one of his closest friends, and Steve was his boyfriend. That Halloween, for the first time since Sam was a teenager, he had the chance to do a group costume.

To Sam’s surprise, Nat had been extremely easy to convince—who knew she loved Halloween almost as much as he did? She wouldn’t go into details, just vaguely mentioned a deep cover op that had allowed her an opportunity to experience Halloween once before, when she was a child.

Steve had resisted a little at first—apparently Halloween wasn’t as big a deal for him growing up—but then Nat had pouted and Sam had done his best puppy eyes, and Steve caved almost instantly. Steve had put up with not only the group costume, but also the horror/Halloween movie marathons with Nat, the decorating, and the two attempts at making some old mulled cider recipe (even though Steve insisted he never drank the stuff back in the day). He hadn’t even complained when Sam dragged him into taking a two-day trip down to Massachusetts to tour a list of supposedly-haunted locations Nat had found online. It was the most Sam had enjoyed Halloween since he was a teenager.

Sam sighs, thinking about it. He and Nat had so much fun that year. Last year, he corrects himself. Was their first Halloween together really just last year? Things move so fast these days, it’s hard to keep track, especially since they’ve been on the run for a few months now. Days just blur together when you’re hunkered down in Nondescript Safe House #11 (or is this #12?) with little to do.

But they’d celebrated Sam’s birthday just last week, which had kind of reset Sam’s understanding of the passage of time, and he’s only too-aware of it now that his birthday’s over and he can feel that crisp, constant chill in the air.

Sam leans his head back against the arm of the couch, looking up at the living room ceiling in Nondescript Safehouse #12. It’s October first, and he’s going to end up missing Halloween this year.

[fandomcelery]

hi so I found out that there's a byler autumn event yesterday and it's a one-day event, which so happened to be today aaa!

I wanted to contribute with a fic until I realized that most of the day is already gone and I don't think I'd have time, so here's a bunch of soft byler autumn headcanons that I came up with!

-they both love wearing sweaters (so what if they're each others sweaters??) and so they live for the cool air that comes with the fall season

-will loves crunching leave, like jumping onto them and gets severely disappointed if it doesn't have that satisfying crunch, mike loves watching him light up when it crunches, and even joins him with jumping onto piles of leaves

-i've seen other people say that horror doesn't affect will, and it's actually his favorite genre and I kind of love that?? because mike definitely gets scared really easy but won't admit it lol

-they base their halloween costumes off of what the other persons going as so they can match or at least go as a pair

-haunted houses my beloved omg i have a few for this:

-lucas and max are definitely the ones that suggest they go to a haunted house (or maybe it's like a spooky forest walk or something someone in hawkins puts on every year) and el is confused because "why would people put that on, what if there was real danger???" and dustins just like "oh it won't be too scary, and besides we got to start doing adult things" and mike of course is agreeing with dustin, about how they're too old for trick-or-treating, but they can still do spooky things for halloween

-when the party gets to the entrance will grabs mikes hand because he figures it's really dark, no one will be able to see it, and they go through the entire thing holding hands and standing close to one another

-if a stranger gives them an odd look they kind of play it off like the one was scared and the other was comforting them (which sometimes is accurate lol)

-dustin was scared through all of it (not with the help of max, who kept scaring him), lucas jumped a few times, and mostly el was amazed because of the whole thing, and max was having a blast (okay i'll stop with the haunted house/forest and go back to more byler things lol)

-one halloween will got sick (i got this because i'm sick right now and just thought of it) and the party had plans to go to some party that steve is hosting, but mike went over to the byers house instead to watch horror movies and cuddle with will all night ("mike you're going to get sick" "i don't care, it's freezing and you're warm")

-because the weather is getting cold they go over to each others houses to hang out because "that's the best option right??" and so what they do is either watch movies or play games, but they always cuddle with each other because it is cold and they keep stealing kisses from each other any chance they can

-everyone in the party knows they're together and support them 100%, so do joyce, jonathan, nancy, steve, robin, etc

that's definitely not it, i could probably go on, but i'll end it now so i can start working on my homework lol

if some of these don't make sense or there's a bunch of grammar mistakes, sorry <3

[jeonggukingdom]

house of cards (m)

pairing  ⟶ jungkook x fem!Reader (feat. Namjoon & the rest of the boys)

synopsis  ⟶ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

genre  ⟶ smut, angst, apocalypse!AU, zombie!AU   

rating  ⟶  18+

word count  ⟶  17.453 words

warnings  ⟶ graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, hair pulling, marking each other with admittedly too many hickeys, teasing, couch sex, fingering, dirty talk, pounding, kind of soft sex but also rough sex?, multiple orgasms, a little tiny drop of chocking because why not, oral sex (receiving) because we all know I can’t resist and have to put this literally in every fic I write lol. Death, violence, blood, gunshot wounds: all of which include graphic descriptions. [I AM TERRIBLY SORRY].

author’s note ⟶ this fic has been written for the “Bulletproof Bingo” project created by @ficswithluv​! You can find the card I received here (click!) but to make things more fun and keep the surprise I blurred out all the songs except for the five songs in the same row that I’m going to write first ;)  A special thank you to @inkedxclouds​ for reading the opening scene and encouraging me to keep on writing it! Your words (and advice!) really helped me so really, thank you again ♥

song title ⟶ House Of Cards - BTS [ lyrics that inspired the story the most:  “A house made of cards, and us, inside / Even though the end is visible / Even if it’s going to collapse soon / A house made of cards, we’re like idiots / Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more /  As if there’s no such thing as tomorrow / As if there’s no such thing as a “next time” /  Right now, in front of my eyes, everything without you / Is a terribly pitch-black darkness” ]

tag list ⟶   @mrcleanheichou​​  • @ayujaded​​ • @vera6483​​ • @peterrogers15​  • @ggukkieland​

The city is on fire.

The flames dance in the air, tint everything black and red and menace to reach up the sky, bring that down as well so that truly nothing is left unscathed in the entire world. The heath burns his flesh, makes his eyes water, turns his throat dry and he doesn’t need to look behind his back to know you can feel it too, to know how fast your heart is beating inside your chest, thumping hard against your ribs like a trapped hummingbird inside a cage. He doesn’t have to look to know your chest is heaving, that fatigue and panic are taking over your entire system. He doesn’t need to, but he still tilts his head slightly to the side, fixes his gaze on your face for a whole second before turning back around to take in the destructive scenery all around you.

His legs move faster. They hit hard on the dirty and sleek bitumen, seemingly indefatigable, but the truth is that the only thing propelling him forward is self-preservation and the knowledge that if he stops, even for a second, he’ll be dead and you right along with him.

But Jeongguk is not stupid. He knows you’re both reaching your breaking point, that you won’t be able to keep on going much longer and that knowledge turns him desperate.

There has to be a way out. He refuses to believe this is the end. No, no, he will not allow it.

His fingers are wrapped tightly around yours and he tugs on them harder, pulls you closer to him so that he can feel the warmth of your body, your heavy breath hitting the back of his neck every now and then. Like this, he knows you’re alive, that you are both still here and most importantly, still human.

Neither of you dares to take a look behind your backs and truth is, you don’t even have to. All it takes is for you is to close your eyes—or even blink—to see them.

Skin of a sickly ashen grey. Eyes void like an abyss, black as coal. Mouths open wide in a perpetual silent scream that haunts both of your dreams every single night. Teeth ready to bite, rip the skin off and let the blood soil the bitumen and fill their monstrous mouths. Arms outstretched to grasp you, to pull you into them to scratch and rip the skin until nothing of you is left, not even your soul, and you are one of them. Another little piece in the ever-growing army of walking corpses.

All it took was two weeks.

Two weeks for the whole world to crumble down, splinter into tiny frail little pieces of glass and all by the hands of monsters that only used to live inside TV screens on Halloween: zombies.

Jeongguk curses under his breath, swiftly turns to the left in a vain attempt to confuse the brain-dead creatures right behind your backs but he knows it won’t work, not this time, not when there is so many of them.

He dares another look at your face and the utter terror he reads on your features turns his heart smaller inside his chest.

He swore to protect you.

One year ago, in front of your families and friends, he made his vows. What was it that he promised? To love you and cherish you until the end of his days, to protect you and grant you a happy life. And now what? What happened to all those pretty words that filled his mouth back then?

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Everyone you ever cared about and loved is gone. Everything you ever knew is gone. All in the blink of an eye. There were no goodbyes, no mourning, no nothing. And he can see the toll it has taken on you whenever he looks inside those beautiful eyes of yours. Once upon a time, they used to shine like stars in a night sky but not anymore—just another thing to add to the list of what those monsters have taken away from the both of you.

Your legs are tired. Your lungs are begging for air and all you can think about is just letting go, just let your body fall and claim the desperate rest it needs. When was the last time either of you had a proper night of sleep? When was the last time nightmares didn’t wake one of you in the middle of the night and successfully kept you awake through most of it until the sun was back up in the sky?

Jeongguk curses, his voice quivers around the edges alongside his limbs and he can hear your breath catch, get trapped inside your lungs.

Is this the end?

He gulps down heavily, bites on his bottom lip like he always does when he is focused on something, when he is so deep in thought the whole world disappears. But this time, the look on his face is one of panic and dread.

There is no way out.

Jeongguk curses under his breath again, forces you to take another swift turn to the left and you both know it’s futile and desperate but what else is left?

You don’t want to die like this, in a dark alley of a city you’ve never seen before, helplessly running away from the nightmares behind your backs. So you pray. You pray to all the deities known to mankind, even those you’ve never believed in because truthfully, this is all you have left, isn’t it? The hope for a miracle.

Jeongguk falters and you almost bump right into him. His name leaves your mouth like a shrill but it falls on deaf ears because right there, in the middle of the street, shining like a beacon, lies a car.

A car.

Amidst all the smoke and fire, standing amidst all of this wreckage with barely a single scratch on its surface, that car almost looks like a mirage, a freaking miracle. Or a curse. Too good to be true, too-fucking-good to be true. And yet, it is a chance. Perhaps your only chance. So he takes it. Because this is what your lives have been reduced to. A fucking gamble.

So he takes courage, treats this as a round at the Russian roulette where you don’t know whether you win or lose until you pull the bloody trigger and shoot yourself right on your temple. He takes courage and tugs on your arm, yanks it forward as he aims for the car ignoring both the yelp of pain and the shrill of panic that erupt from your mouth.

He ignores the way you call his name in question and horror as your eyes land on what to you looks like nothing but certain doom. He ignores the way you try to yank him in the opposite direction, the way your hand trembles in his grasp with nothing but fear, the way your breath catches as the creatures get closer and closer and closer.

You can almost feel their breath on your neck, you can almost feel their hands on your skin, their claws sinking inside the tender flesh to bring you down with them.

"Hurry!"

His shrill cuts through the air like a knife. Your heaving breaths fill the silence left in its wake and they mix with Jeongguk's and the monsters’ right behind your backs.

What happens next is nothing but a blur.

Curses and screams fill the air, your bodies pressed together inside the car as you pray to all the Gods somewhere up there in the sky to spare your life just this once, to not let the both of you die like this, in a city in ruin with not a single person you ever loved alive to mourn you.

You pray and maybe, maybe someone is really up there, listening and granting wishes because while the monsters surround you, while they shake the car and hit the glass with their fists and open mouths, Jeongguk turns the key and the engine roars to life.

An exhilarated laugh escapes his parted lips, shakes his thin body to the point he’s jolting on the seat whilst pushing with all his might on the pedal to propel the car forward.

Your hand searches his and finds it around the gearshift. Your fingers automatically lace together as if that is the very purpose they were created for and then, you close your eyes and the world turns black and subdues as you will it all away. The flames, the monsters surrounding you, the smell of fire and death that still fills your nose… they disappear just like magic as you push your thoughts far away from here.

You fill your head with images of your past life, one that almost looks like a dream now, something you’ve only seen while sleeping and not actually lived through. You fill it with laughter and kisses under the sunlight on that beach in Busan where you and Jeongguk finally confessed your feelings for each other. You fill it with the sensation of his warm hands against your naked flesh, you fill it with his beautiful, endearing smile. With the sound of his voice as he softly calls your name first thing in the morning or when he whispers it in your ears while you make love. You fill it all with him so that you can ignore the way the car shakes, the sounds of the monsters falling on the ground as the car drives into them, pushes them down on the bitumen and steps on them.

Slowly, silence envelops you whole and in return, your heart stops hammering against your chest like a caged bird and yet, it is still not enough to prompt your eyes to open because you know that the moment you do so, no matter how far away from the madness and horror you currently are, you’ll never be distant enough because this is your new life and all the happy images filling your head right now are nothing but long-gone memories.

Jeongguk’s eyes are trained on the empty street and yet he can almost see you sitting right next to him with your eyes closed and your cherry lips parted, breathing ever so softly and drifting inside your world of memories. He knows that world oh too well, being a frequent visitor himself. It’s easy to forget the nightmare when you close your eyes and just drown yourself in the past, push your entire body so down under the deep waters you can’t even hear a peep from the world raging outside. Easy and comforting.

It scares him. It scares him how effortless it is to just let go and pretend, to let your consciousness slip away long enough you could almost forget how to get back.

He calls your name ever so softly then, his voice sweet and rich just like your favourite filled chocolate doughnut—your usual breakfast on a weekend, when he’d purposefully get out of bed before you just to go buy some for the both of you to consume in the comfort and warmth of your bed.

The memory makes a small smile stretch on your lips but it quickly fades as stripes of bleeding red and violent pink start burning its edges, slowly reducing it to nothing at all.

The sun is setting in the sky, falling rapidly behind the hills ahead of you and bringing all the light right with it. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine for there is nothing you dread more than the night and the nightmares sleep always brings right along with it. Another day has passed and if only there were a set date, a fixed moment in time you know to mark the end of it all, maybe you’d be able to rejoice then but that is just another luxury you don’t have.

Jeongguk’s eyes move on your face then, just in time to catch the way your expression inevitably falls and your smile disappears as quickly as it had formed. The peaceful expression, the little glint inside your beautiful eyes still present a few seconds ago are once again broken by the cruel reality and Jeongguk hates himself a little for shattering the dream, for pulling you back inside this Hell right along with him but even that deep sense of guilt can’t overpower the relief of having you still right next to him, alive and well and… present.

So he offers you a little smile, a tug of his hand to prompt your eyes to shift away from the bleeding sky and rather fix them on him and the moment they do oh, how they make his heart beat loudly in his chest, how do they so easily bring warmth to his cheeks and limbs.

“We’ve made it, baby.”

Yes. You’re alive.

You laugh and nod your head a couple of times for him. And Jeongguk could swear you illuminate the entire car, hell, even the whole road ahead of you with that smile full of sunshine he fell in love with so many years ago, when you were still kids. And the more you look at him, at the way his eyes shine like stars and his nose scrunches up in that adorable bunny-like way of his, the bigger your smile gets and Jeongguk is certain that you, like this, are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on.

Deep down, you both know this is temporary, that this feeling of victory will be gone in a matter of a few hours when you’ll inevitably face another one of those monsters and yet, you allow yourselves to bask in the little joy you feel, in the glimpse of normalcy right within your grasp. For once, you decide not to care and rather live to the fullest inside this little bubble of happiness. A bubble so small and delicate even a breath could easily burst it.

“We did, didn’t we? Wow… I can’t believe it,” your voice is soft and filled with a little hint of the mirth that turned your lips upwards for the first time in days and Jeongguk can’t help but smile even further while focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Me neither,” he confesses, shaking his head a little for it does still feel absolutely incredible and so unbelievably lucky there must be a catch about the whole ordeal somewhere. He pushes those type of thoughts away with all his might, though, as he tries to enjoy the opportunity he was given to live another day right next to you because he hates this part of himself, the pessimistic side that everyday swallows a bit more of the person he used to be before this nightmare started.

It is the middle of the night when you finally come to a halt in what looks to be an abandoned city. One of many, you think to yourself as you scan your surroundings waiting for that telltale sign of danger that comes with the grunts of the famished walking corpses. The silence of the night welcomes the both of you, though, as you help yourselves out of the car and before you can even glance towards Jeongguk, he is standing right there, by your side, fingers laced around yours to keep you as close as possible. You smile at the tender gesture. It’s one of the few habits of his that hasn’t subdued just yet.

You know.

And even though most of the times you pretend you haven’t noticed the way he has changed—nor the way you have—you know he has and sometimes it is hard to ignore how empty his eyes look when they are not fixed on you, how thin his lips look now that they are always stretched into a harsh line and not pulled into a gentle smile and most importantly how often you catch his hands shaking and him balling them into fists to stop their incessant tremor.

You tug on his hand, offer him a gentle smile the second he looks at you and you imprint the sight of his smile in your memory, the way his eyes light up with a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. You map every single inch of his face just so you can remember him like this the most. Your Jeongguk, not the one the army of dead bodies has created.

You have never walked on a minefield before in your life but if you had to guess how it feels you’d bet he’d be a little like this as you walk through the empty streets in the middle of the night without having a single clue where to go, where to hide. Potentially, every turn could signify your demise. With every step you take, you feel like shrinking inside yourself, turning a little smaller inch after inch whilst your body quivers ever so slightly in fear and your heart aches as it pounds hard against your ribs.

It is Jeongguk that spots the abandoned building first.

The city has been turned to ashes, set on fire like your own and the one you saw after that, and the one after that too and so on into a trail of smoke, fire and destruction that has left barely anything unscathed. Yet this building looks somewhat decent, with the door still there—albeit swung open—and a few windows with the glass still intact to protect you from both the drop in temperatures and any unwanted guests.

A little winning smile forms on his lips then and he tugs a little on your arm so that you can hurry your steps, get to what promises to be your safe haven—at least for the night—as quickly as humanly possible without making a single sound so not to stir awake the creatures surely lurking in the dark.

Your steps are full of uncertainty and fear as you step into the abandoned building and walk on the broken tiled floor. With each step you take, you tug a little harder on Jeongguk’s hand in fear of what you might meet at the end of this long corridor and seemingly endless string of doors.

If it had been for you, you would have stopped at the first apartment with it being close enough to the exit to make a quick escape if needed. Instead, you keep walking and you only stop when there’s only a set of doors left and even though you know this is probably for the best, that it would be harder for anyone to find you here, that the brainless creatures are less likely to sense you so far away from the streets, you can’t shake the uneasiness prompted by the fear of getting trapped inside this place and not being able to leave it with your humanity still intact.

The door opens easily. Just a little tug from Jeongguk’s hand and it swings open to reveal a simple apartment with minimal and mostly-ruined furniture. The signs of struggle, of a hopeless fight, of the loss of other human lives, taint every inch and corner of this place that probably used to be filled with love and warmth once. You can almost sense the pain, the fear and horror. You can almost hear the screams as your fingers brush against the door, the walls, the little objects filled with memories on the furnishing. It’s just like echoes from ghosts that beg to be heard, to be remembered so that at least this little part of them can live on, forever human.

You gulp down heavily, force your eyes to tear away from the picture of a happy family still hanging on the wall and rather focus it on your boyfriend’s back as he walks inside the apartment just to make sure no surprises are waiting for you inside any of the empty rooms. You follow his every movement, you mirror every single step and fill your thoughts and sight with him so that it’s easier to bare everything, so that it’s easier to ignore and move on, to live and fight for your chance at survival.

His soft voice breaks the silence just to call your name and draw you next to him and you easily comply letting him lace your fingers together. He places a tender kiss on your forehead then before opening his arms to welcome you in his warm embrace. You feel your body relax into the familiar sensation of being completely engulfed by his strong arms, you feel your heart slowly melt as his scent fills your nose the instant you hide your face in his broad chest. He holds you like this for what feels like hours and he doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to know what fills his head and moves his heart. Fear, relief, love, guilt—you’ve felt them all, sometimes even all at once while looking towards him in the midst of one of your escapes and, inside this embrace, you can sense them all, hanging above your heads and weighing on his heart and shoulders.

Your arms wrap around him, tuck underneath the green jacket so that your fingers can fist the thin black shirt under it and pull him into you more so that not a single breath of air can come between your aching, broken bodies.

Jeongguk’s lips quiver, a trembling breath escapes his mouth as he lets himself break within your embrace knowing oh too well that you’ll help him put back together every single splinter of his being. He breaks without a single word or sound and yet you mend him over and over again until he’s whole once more and he can smile at you anew and mean it.

He doesn’t have to say anything. All it takes is one look from his glinting eyes and a nod of your head and in an instant, you’re sitting on the couch ignoring the ripped fabric and the dark stains on it in favour of the little food in your backpacks.

When you had it all, you had taken for granted many things: a roof on top of your head, an endless source of running water, good food on your table every single night. Now, you don’t even have half of that and yet, there’s a little smile on your face as you consume your dinner with your boyfriend sitting right next to you and that’s because even the stale bread in your hands tastes heavenly after days of pure starvation.

His mouth is still filled with bread to munch on when he fishes out the map from his backpack and his eyes start scanning the names of the cities you passed on your desperate run to safety. His eyes are eager and filled with hope and excitement and he looks so breathtakingly beautiful in this moment—even with dirt on his hands, dried blood on his clothes and dishevelled hair—that you can’t help but stare as you force down your throat the last bite of your meal.

You watch his eyes light up in recognition, you watch them scan the map again and again just to make sure and then you see his mouth open to form a little “o” of surprise and… excitement?

His beautiful eyes of coal fix on you then and the most dazzling smile twists his lips up to the side. An exhilarated laugh escapes his mouth, shakes his chest as he points at the map with the excitement of a little kid in a candy store.

“We’ve made it! Fuck, we’ve actually made it!”

You dart forward, steal the map from his hands to fix your gaze on it and see it for yourself. The safe haven, the refuge Yoongi and Hoseok had heard about and dreamed about every single night before they lost their fight is near, so fucking near you can almost see it now if you close your eyes and squeeze them hard enough.

The Refuge.

“How far is it from here?” Your voice trembles, coming out as soft as a whisper as you tilt your head a little to the side just to fix your gaze back on him.

A grin welcomes your words and you can swear stars are shining in his eyes as he bumps his shoulder into yours so that he can point at the map, show you the road you’ll have to walk on to get there.

“If we’re lucky and the car doesn’t run out of fuel we’ll be there by the end of tomorrow.”

Just a breath. That’s the fraction of a second it takes for you to lean forward and crush your lips on top of his, claim his mouth at the height of your euphoria. The colony of humans, the safe haven your friends talked about every waking hour you spent together is just miles away and the promise of safety and normalcy erases everything else in an instant.

In this moment, all that exists is you and him and the hope for a better, brighter future and with your heart beating so frantically in your chest, all you can do is get lost in him, in his sweet scent, in the heavenly sensation of his fingers wrapped around your frame and his lips roughly moving on top of yours.

You grab his face to pull him into you even more and Jeongguk gladly follows, moulds under your touch to fit on top of your body as you let yourself fall on the couch while still kissing his lovely lips. Your hands are eager, your tongue relentless as it seeks his own through his parted lips and the excitement and adrenaline mix together and build until what is driving your every movement is passion and desire and need.

A low grunt moves past his lips as you tug on the long strands of hair on the back of his head and he doesn’t have to open his eyes to know there’s a wicked smirk painted on your lips, a little knowing smile prompted by the fact that you know way too well how much he likes that, especially when he’s far deep inside of you, rocking his hips furiously to reach his high and bring you down with him.

Your fingers leave his curls in favour of his jacket to move it past his shoulders, let it fall along his arms until he’s unceremoniously throwing it away. But it is not enough to satisfy your desire of seeing him, touching him, claiming him. So your hands hook around the hem of his shirt to lift it off of his head and Jeongguk follows your desires, lets you guide him and take control over him with the barest touch of your fingers. A single brush of your digits on his feverish skin is enough to gather goosebumps on the flesh and blood deep down his crotch. His cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral under your gaze as you bite down your bottom lip while your eyes move up and down his half-naked body. It’s a sight you’ve seen countless of times before and yet, it still makes your mouth run dry and butterfly flutter in your stomach like the very first time.

A small smile spreads on your swollen lips the moment you catch sight of the necklace dangling from his neck. It glints under the artificial white lights of the streetlamps filtering through the windows, looking as if it were made of the purest glass on Earth. You reach out to touch the sharp point of the feather and then you take it within your grasp and tug on it until he’s falling back on top of you and your lips are tasting each other once more.

You drag your nails across his naked back ever so softly yet the sensation of the teasing touch makes him grunt and roll his hips into yours once in a form of retaliation that has you calling his name in a mix of a warning to stop and a plea to keep going. Jeongguk clearly decides it is the latter for he does it again, and again, and again until you’re fully whining his name inside the kiss and digging your nails harder into his naked flesh.

“You’re such a tease,” you whisper atop his mouth the instant his lips leave yours just so that he can look inside your eyes and oh, that little smirk on his lips is so enticing you have to fight against yourself not to kiss him senseless right then and there.

“Look who’s talking.” His voice is rough around the edges, laced with the desire coiling in his stomach that is making his blood boil and gather right between his legs.

You tilt your head a little to the side and let your fingers roam against his chest, stroke ever so softly the fine line of his abs just to watch them contract under your touch. You drag your hand further down his torso and you can hear the way his breath catches the moment your fingers are ghosting over his belt. Your teeth sink into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and Jeongguk curses under his breath as you let your hands move past that belt, get inside his jeans and palm his bottom cheeks through the fabric of his boxer briefs. You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his jaw slacks as you tug on his hips so that he can press his confined member against your aching core.

Your body seems to catch on fire, turn into liquid flames right underneath his intense gaze and it takes again all of your willpower to not strip him naked in a second and push him deep right inside of you. But no, you want to savour this moment, make it last throughout the whole night so that you can rekindle properly with each other’s bodies after spending so much time running for your lives, out in the streets, unable to let yourself go and touch each other like you used to every single day before all hell broke loose. It’s been too long. Too long without his fingers on you, without his lips on your neck, without his sex battering yours in ways bound to make you forget your own name. Too-fucking-long.

He calls your name, wets his lips and begs with his eyes to give him more, in whatever form you prefer and you grant his silent wishes with the slow drag of your hands as they inch back towards his belt in order to free him at least from the confinement of his jeans. He releases a soft breath as you unbuckle it for him and then slowly unfasten both the button and the zipper and that same breath seems to hang in the air as your fingers palm him for the first time in weeks. His eyes close in bliss, his head tilts a little back and you drink up the sight of him like this, already getting ruined before you can even touch him properly. Oh, the things you’d do to him and let him do to you all at once and until neither of you can keep on going any longer.

That’s when you attach your lips on his skin, suckle on the firm flesh of his abs until a purple rose blooms there to mark your passage, followed by another and then another until he is whining and growing stiffer under your digits.

Your hands leave his groin and far too quickly for his liking judging by the little grunt of frustration that leaves his parted mouth but that one is quickly replaced by another as you push on his chest until his back is hitting the couch instead of yours and you are the one towering over him, ready to take control.

Your mouth easily finds his weakest spot on the side of his neck and attaches right there just so you can bask in the way his body catches on fire underneath yours, in the way he can’t help but arch his back a little into you, call your name and dig his fingers on the supple curve of your ass. His skin is tender and sweet and it takes so little effort for you to mark it with your eager lips and teeth that you can’t help the deep desire of wanting to mark all of him and turning it into a painting of roses in the shape of your mouth. You close your eyes and let your lips trace every corner of his neck, his clavicles and shoulders and you almost turn deaf to his pleas and whines and sighs of ecstasy. You almost lose yourself completely in the effort of mapping every inch of his skin until nothing is left for you to claim any longer and you have no choice but start all over again.

It takes his hands tugging on your shirt to rip it off of you for you to stop and it takes his mouth on your neck, his hips twitching underneath yours, his voice calling your name, for you to subdue completely and let him strip you of all of your clothes once and for all.

Jeongguk’s fingers tremble with the excitement growing stronger and stronger in his system and they turn rough on your tender skin as they finally get the chance to stroke and pull and feel it under his digits. It’s your turn to close your eyes and tilt your head back, it’s your turn to surrender to his desire-driven touches and mould and melt underneath it. It is your turn to whine and sigh and call his name and Jeongguk drinks up every second of it just like you did and the more he watches you like this, the more he touches you like this, the drunker he feels and the drunker he wants to get because hell, he had almost forgotten how sweet you taste on his lips, how heavenly you feel tightly wrapped around him, how breathtakingly beautiful you are like this, towering over him with nothing but desire filling your gaze.

The bare thought of your walls squeezing him oh so blissfully is enough to make him groan and claim your lips once more while his hands start inching down to where you desire them the most. The touch is simple and slow and yet you arch your back for him, roll your hips on top of his just to feel his length brush against your sleek core. His teeth grasp your bottom lip, pull it down in a way that has you hissing in both pain and excitement and you can’t help but roll your hips once more, bask in the sensation of his turgid member right between your southern lips. You tilt your head back as his lips find your neck once more, attach to the soft spot underneath your jawline to leave his mark there—something he knows to be your utter weakness.

A breathy sigh of elation escapes from your lips and you feel him smile against your skin, you feel his teeth dragging across your neck just so he can playfully bite your jawline next and tease you further. You whisper his name and it sounds like a plea to his ears and one that he is more than glad to take on because damn, he has missed touching you like this more than he even realized. The more his mouth kisses you, the more his fingers brush against your delicate flesh, the more he feels compelled to. So he explores your body more, basks in the way you sigh for him, arch your back, roll your hips, call his name and abandon yourself to his every touch. It is at the apex of your arousal and frustration that his fingers finally find the treasure right between your legs, the sweet spot he had been craving all this time.

The pads of his fingers brush against the sleek skin to gather your juices and slowly bring them up to his mouth so that he can taste them and hum as he sucks his own digits like he would if they were covered with honey instead. The scene is so lewd it prompts a grunt to leave your parted lips while the arousal deepens right between your legs, coiling down to his own turgid member. You watch his eyes zone in onto your dripping sex, you watch them light up with wanton desire and it is then that you beg him, truthfully beg him to lay his hands on you.

“Touch me, please.”

The plea is nothing more than a pained whimper and yet it rings loud and clear into his ears and, oh God does it work because in a fraction of a second, those fingers that were inside his mouth find your core again and this time, they are there to stay. His digits press hard against your swollen clit and draw deep circles onto it while his eyes fix on your face to catch the way it morphs with pleasure.

He drinks up every little whine, every flutter of the eyes, every tilt of the head, every single bite of the lips, every little quiver of your body on top of his.

“Lift your hips, baby.” His voice is hoarse as he speaks those words, laced with all the arousal clouding all of his thoughts and the fire you can see in his eyes makes your head spin and your mouth run dry. The way he wants you, the way he plans to claim you over and over again on this ragged couch are so clear in his gaze you can’t help but whine in utter anticipation and follow his every instruction.

So you leave his neglected cock and lift your hips high enough for him to drag down his fingers and play with your folds instead. His touch is soft at first, tentative even, but all the more enticing. It makes your desire grow deeper, it makes your body quiver with impatience and expectancy and he loves every little second of it. To torture you like this, to slowly drive you insane before throwing you over the edge of utter bliss makes him feel absolutely dizzy and just like an addict, it keeps him wanting more of it.

“You’re so wet,” he mutters under his breath and you let out a strangled whine in response that has him chuckling lightly underneath you. The teasing glint in his eyes, that little smirk that pulls his lips slightly upwards to the side make you want to lean forward and kiss him until you run out of breath but oh, that thought gets swiped away in an instant by the sudden intrusion of two of his fingers right inside your sex.

Your head falls backwards, your muscles tense and your jaw slacks as your walls contract around his heavenly fingers, adjusting to the stretch so quickly he has another finger plunged deep inside of you in an instant. You call his name once more, let a trembling breath escape your parted lips and Jeongguk takes that as an encouragement to pump his fingers in and out of you. The pace is torturously slow and it has you wetting your lips over and over again whilst your arousal grows bigger and bigger, trailing down your thighs.

His fingers curl into you and you hiss, bite your bottom lip and go rigid on top of him and the sight is so beautiful he does it again and then once more just to see you crumble and tremble and give in into the impossible pleasure spreading through your limbs like liquid fire.

He lifts himself up enough to bring his mouth to your naked breasts and envelope one of your nipples with his soft rosy lips. You gulp down heavily and find purchase onto his raven locks with one of your hands while the other one ventures out between your lifted legs to seek his erection and brush your fingers against it.

The little grunt of appreciation that comes with the simple touch spreads a smile on your lips, encourages you to wrap your fingers around it to pump it a few times, spreading your juices all over his hard length.

“I want to feel you,” you mutter under your breath and Jeongguk’s teeth pull a little on your turgid bud making you hiss in both pleasure and pain.

When his eyes fix on you, a long shiver runs down your spine. Goosebumps gather on your flesh and your heart turns rampant in your chest, “Then ride me, baby.”

The pressure of his fingers inside your core disappears as quickly as it came and it leaves you startled, contracting around nothing but thin air and mourning the sudden loss. His invitation, though, hangs in the air heavy like stones and thick like fog. And it is that invitation, the temptation in taking the lead that prompts both of your hands to push on his chest until he’s flat on the couch once more, looking up to you with all the desire burning deep inside his stomach.

It is still him that guides you, though, encourages you to take command and make him yours. It’s his fingers that wrap around his length to align himself to your dripping sex. It’s his free arm that wraps around your stomach and pulls you down so that you can finally meet his member and it’s still him that pushes you down just enough for the tip of his cock to brush against your sleek folds.

Wetting your lips, with your eyes pointedly fixed on his, you sink onto him then, ever so slowly, just so you can bask in the sensation of being filled up to the brim for the first time in weeks and let it last for as long as possible. Jeongguk lets out a sigh underneath you, his eyes closing as he lets go to the blissful sensation that is your walls contracting around him, welcoming him back with a tight embrace that already menaces to cut his oxygen intake short.

His free hand finds the supple curve of your ass and wraps around it as you sink completely onto him and let out a pleased sigh at the sensation of him filling you whole. You find purchase on his chest as you lift your hips back up ever so slightly and when his eyes find yours once more and lock you there, you start moving on top of him.

The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin fills the empty apartment, quickly followed by your soft sighs, readily amplified by both of his hands squeezing your bottom cheeks.

Jeongguk’s mouth hangs open, his eyes fixed on your face as you quicken your pace on top of him, rolling your hips every now and then just to hear his grunts, just to feel his nails dig into your flesh more and in a way that is bound to leave half-moon shaped marks scattered across it.

You arch your back a little and lean back to rest your hands on his knees instead and roll into him faster, pushing him deeper until he’s brushing against your cervix in that delicious way that always brings you crumbling down in the span of a few minutes. The guttural sound that escapes from deep down your throat makes him desperate to hear more and to feel the delectable way your walls would squeeze him at the apex of your high. It is then that one of his hands leaves your bottom cheeks in favour of your swollen bud, the very trigger of your pleasure.

The way you call his name then drives him absolutely insane, convinces him that his name has never sounded so beautiful before and oh, it turns his fingers fervent, prompts his hips to roll up into you to meet you halfway, faster and deeper and that’s how you lose your battle for control, that is how you end up giving in to him and letting him claim you with everything he has to offer.

Jeongguk’s hips snap into yours in time with the furious pace of his digits atop your clit, drawing perfect circles on to it that turn you blind and deaf to your own screams and mewls of ecstasy. He calls your name with a deep grunt but you cannot hear it when your ears are ringing so loudly, when your heart is beating so fast inside your chest it might explode soon, when your vision completely disappears and your body starts to quiver on top of his as you lose control.

The pleasure hits you like an unexpected wave of cold water and it steals your breath and sanity away. You come all around him mewling out loud his name and in that moment it doesn’t matter that you might stir awake some monster, that you might reveal your location to the nightmares waiting for you, no, all that matters is the pleasure and how absolutely paradisaical this moment feels.

Jeongguk’s eyes of charcoal are the first thing you see when you finally open yours, when the pleasure subdues and you come back down on Earth, to the here and now. And it’s those eyes of fire that make you rock your hips into him, that make you lift your ass and slap it back onto his thighs hard and fast.

The sounds that erupt from his mouth are like music to your ears and they guide your every movement and oh, you’d bring him down with you like this over and over again but Jeongguk begs you to slow down, to let him enjoy this moment a little bit longer until he has no choice but to paint your walls white.

“Turn around, baby,” he instructs after wetting his lips, his voice deep and hoarse and filled with the passion and desire driving his every movement, his every word.

His legs spread to welcome your ass right between them and as you find purchase on the couch, you let your sex sink back onto him, rejoicing in the new stretch this position provides.

A string of curses escapes his mouth drawing a little wicked smirk on your lips and prompting your hips to snap into his harder. Your hands are both sprawled on the couch to keep yourself standing enough to keep this perfect angle that is bound to turn the both of you absolutely insane. Your body is still quivering with the aftermath of your first orgasm and the lightheaded sensation that still lingers in your system makes your hips move furiously on top of his, drawing all kind of beautiful sounds from his parted lips.

You turn your head back enough to fix your eyes on his face, watch the way it morphs with pleasure. You call his name once, twice in a row and Jeongguk grunts and snaps his hips back into you, hard and fast to the point he’s about to erupt deep inside of you. You can see it in his eyes: the desire, the wanton need, the desperate search for his own release and the more you look at him like this, the more he fucks into you like this, the faster your heart beats, the harder your blood flows in your veins.

Jeongguk’s hips slow down, his bottom lip trembles with the breath that escapes from his lungs and he doesn’t have enough time to utter his next words, to explicitly say what he so desperately desires from you because you push your hips back once more, roll them onto his turgid shaft and fuck yourself on him, impale yourself on his cock until you are crumbling, breaking to tiny pieces right within his grasp. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of your quivering limbs, off of your ass still bouncing up and down in front of him, off of his cock plunging deep in and out of you. It is then that he takes the lead once more, pushes you flat on the couch so that he can stand on his knees and pound deep inside of you.

His hips snap into yours so hard and fast you don’t have a spare second to catch your breath, to allow yourself to come down from this impossible high. You mewl his name as his hands find purchase on the small of your back and he roughens up his pace, grunts your name in a row, tells you how impossibly good you feel so tight around him, squeezing him to madness. And you drink up all those words, eat them up like a famished woman on a deserted island and oh, do you galvanize him even further with your sighs of ecstasy, with your pleas for him to fuck you harder, faster, stronger.

If you close your eyes you can almost see his luscious thighs, the way his ass snaps with his hips as he pushes deep inside of you, the way his back contracts with the effort of keeping himself standing right above you, the way sweat shines on his golden skin like fine pearls. You can almost see his raven hair getting wet and stick to his forehead and to his neck and oh, how you’d love to tug on those strands, elicit a hiss out of him and throw him over the edge just like that but instead, it’s Jeongguk that leans forward to grasp your hair, tug on it until you have no choice but arch your back and tilt your head back.

Your eyes open to bore into his as you bite your bottom lip for him, heave out a sigh of ecstasy that is quickly followed by a string of pleas for him to cum right inside of you like this, fill you up to the brim on this ragged couch inside an apartment that isn’t your own, in a city you have never seen before.

Jeongguk grasps your neck then, pushes his fingers on the soft skin deep enough to cut the oxygen intake in half and then he kisses you fully on the mouth, claims your lips with the same ferocity set right between your legs and just like that, you come once more and as your orgasm coils down your thighs and soils the couch further, he shoots his pleasure deep inside of you. You feel his hips snap and still as he lets out a deep grunt of liberation, you feel his hands quiver on your neck and on the small of your back, you hear the stream of little curses that leave his mouth as his orgasm just keeps on coming and coming and coming and you don’t have to look to know his eyes are trained on your sex, dripping with the mixture of both of your pleasures.

The sight of you like this leaves Jeongguk breathless, it leaves him wanting more of this, more of you, it leaves him wishing he could fuck you just like this for the rest of your lives without having to think about anything else outside those four walls. His fingers leave your neck then, allow you to breathe in freely as he slowly drags his cock out of you in favour of his mouth because hell, ever since you started undressing him, this is all he could think about. His tongue brushes against your sleek folds and a deep shiver runs down your spine, followed by a whimper. You call his name softly in question, you tilt your head a little to the side just so you can glimpse at his face but Jeongguk’s answer comes in the form of his tongue flattening completely atop your sex and in the deep grunt that erupts from deep within his throat. The taste of your pleasure mixed with his own is inebriating, quite potentially addicting and so very sweet he just can’t help but gather it all on the tip of his tongue, careful not to waste a single drop of it.

“You taste so good, baby,” he mutters under his breath and you shiver at the lewd words, at the way his eyes are still trained on your sex with all that passion burning deep inside of them. Your body falls completely on the couch then, your ass slightly tilted upwards to offer him the perfect view and angle to keep tasting you like this with his relentless tongue. He laps at your folds, lets his tongue move right between them to gather the nectar he so desperately craves right from the source, oh so delectably deep within you and when you start trembling slightly, when soft sighs start leaving your pretty and swollen lips, he decides to attack your clit too, suckle on the sensitive bud until you are fisting the couch beneath you and begging him to keep on going even though you know you cannot take much more, even though literally every single muscle in your body is aching right about now.

His hands grasp your hips, keep you perfectly still as he devours you whole and he doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath, until you’re a quivering mess all over again, mewling his name and coming all over his face. And Jeongguk, oh, he loves every second of it and still makes sure to welcome every drop of your pleasure on his tongue to gulp it down and feed on its sweet and sour taste as if this were the very first time.

Your body gives out and you let yourself go completely, close your eyes while coming down from your high and every word that leaves his mouth is muffled by the loud ringing in your ears, by the heavy breaths that leave your heaving chest, by the loud drumming of your heart.

It’s the tenderness of his touch, the way his arms envelop you whole that bring you back to the present, to the empty apartment and it’s his lovely lips on your forehead as he pulls you up to welcome you in his tight embrace that keeps you from falling into a deep slumber.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he whispers, chuckling slightly at the way you hum while closing your eyes, genuinely fighting against the need to just shut down and recharge.

He hums then, places another soft kiss on your temple and tangles your limbs together while making himself comfortable on the raggedy couch.

“Sleep then, baby. We have a big day ahead of us and I want to leave as soon as we can after going out to find some food.”

A smile forms on your lips then and you nod your head a couple of times. Yes, for a second you almost forgot about your dream and how it’s about to become reality, how close you are, at last to the final destination.

So tonight, you fall asleep with no fear of tomorrow, you fall asleep in the blink of an eye without having to trick yourself into closing your eyes and shutting down all of your thoughts. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, you sleep peacefully in his arms without a single nightmare coming to haunt your dreams. Tonight, the happy memories running through your head behind those closed lids do not burn and turn to ashes, no, they shine brighter than a thousand suns because, for the first time in weeks, you actually believe they could turn into reality soon.

There are some things you can feel in your guts long before they happen. They just sit there, on the pit of your stomach, to make you nervous, nauseous and restless even though you don’t know what they are just yet.

When you wake up and lift your head from his naked chest just so you can stare at his beautiful, peaceful face, you instantly know it’s one of those days. The nervousness sips into your system all at once, cutting your breath short, turning your heart into a caged bird eager to escape. Yet, you don’t utter a single word because today it’s a big day. The day.

You don’t say a word when he kisses you as soon as he wakes up nor when he makes plans for your departure. You don’t even say anything when he puts his almost-empty bag behind his back and walks out the door to scout for some food to bring with you on your trip to salvation.

A lot of words are wasted and gulped down, trapped in the deepest recess of your being where no one can see them or hear them except yourself. And those words menace to choke you, to burn you and consume you until nothing but ashes are left as you wait for him sitting on that same couch you made love on top of last night.

You wait. And wait. And the seconds tick by turning into minutes that turn into hours and the longer you wait, the worse you feel and it’s when your head is starting to spin, when it becomes too hard for you to breathe, when it’s impossible for you to focus on anything else that isn’t the worst-case scenario that you finally get up from the damn couch, pull the backpack on your shoulders and leave the apartment.

Smoke welcomes you back into the real world outside your happy bubble. It stings your eyes, it makes them water and has you coughing out in desperate need of clean air and you know the wiser thing would be to run back to the relative safety of the apartment but the uneasiness in your stomach grows bigger and bigger, dilating like oil at sea, menacing to take over every single cell you’re made of. So, you walk. Walk away from your pretty perfect house, the one you built out of cards last night even though you knew it was going to inevitably collapse soon, the one where you sought peace and happiness and hope for a bright future. You leave it all behind because you have no other choice but to.

The eerie silence of the city is one you’ve experienced countless of times before and therefore you know it’s nothing but the quiet before the storm hits, a trap to make you lower your guard enough for the monsters to attack and take you down with them and as you walk through the deserted and unknown alleys, the feeling of being followed and watched takes over, prompts your legs to move faster just in case you need to start running for your life.

You’ve never been out on your own before. You always had Jeongguk to guide you, to protect you. It takes just a few minutes on your own out there to realise how much you depend on him, how bloody helpless you are on your own out here in the real world where nothing goes according to plan and you can’t count on anyone except for yourself. Again, you realise how lucky you had been all your life, how many little things you took for granted and it makes you wonder if this isn’t some sort of punishment or even a lesson being taught to whole humanity so that one day, the few survivors can learn from it and not repeat the same damn mistakes they’ve made before.

The sound of your name breaks the silence, cuts it in half, rips it to shreds. You whip your head around in the direction of the sound and it’s Jeongguk that you see right there, running through the wreckage the monsters have left behind in that unmistakable way that can only mean one thing: run or perish. So you outstretch your arm for him, lace your fingers together and start running right alongside him without asking a single question and without even looking behind your back.

Your heart soars with relief and gratitude for his salvation and that emotion slightly subdues the uneasiness in your stomach, slowly puts it to sleep as your feet hit hard on the bitumen while you trace your steps back to the apartment, its four safe walls and most importantly the car waiting for you there, that very car that promises to take you the hell away from all of this once and for all. Your grasp around his fingers tightens and as it does, his eyes land on you and that little smile of his twists his lips, at last, to bring warmth to your heart and body, to bring peace to the raging war inside your head.

The apartment’s door slams shut behind your backs and you both press your bodies on it to keep it firmly shut as you try and catch your breath. It is only when you feel his body relax against yours that the words come out.

“What happened?”

Jeongguk grimaces, shakes his head while closing his eyes while a little sigh escapes his lips, “I let my guard down. I was so sure those fuckers were far away deep down the city’s core I was surrounded in an instant. There were so fucking many…”

Your hand comes to his cheek and he leans into the touch immediately, without even noticing. The warmth of your touch placates his heart and brings his eyes on you. They are sweet and filled with love and you can’t help but lean in to kiss his lips.

“It’s ok. We’re alive and we’re about to get the hell away from here.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, nods his head a couple of times before pulling you fully into him, wrapping his loving arms around you and then resting his head in the crook of your neck. He insists that your perfume still lingers there up to this day and it doesn’t matter how much you tell him it is not possible, that any trace of your favourite perfume has long gone, he still claims that as his favourite spot that tastes and smells just like you.

Your fingers find purchase on his shirt, tug on it to bring him even closer, so close there is not a single inch of your bodies that is not touching and it’s right then that the bubble bursts, at last. It takes nothing more than a small touch, a little brush of your fingers against his skin.

Jeongguk hisses in pain and your heart stops.

Jeongguk releases you from his embrace and his eyes full of horror and dread fix on your face, cutting the air out of your lungs.

Jeongguk lifts his shirt up to reveal a red, bloodied mark on his left hip and your world crumbles for the second time in just two weeks.

Jeongguk takes in a sharp, trembling breath and tears start rolling down your cheeks as you furiously shake your head, frantically denying to yourself the truth laid out right before your eyes.

Jeongguk calls your name, puts both of his hands on your cheeks to brush the tears away but it’s a lost battle when they keep coming and coming like water pouring out of a splintered dike.

Tears fall from his eyes too. Thick as pearls, clear as glass, rare as diamonds. And you hate them because the more you look at them rolling down his cheeks, the more real it gets.

“N-no, no, Jeonggukie, no,” your bottom lip quivers, your voice breaks, your body trembles under his gaze as if an earthquake has been trapped right inside of you and it’s now breaking loose, erupting deep within you. You choke on your tears as you grab both of his arms with all the strength you have left in you, pull him into you as if that would stop the venom from spreading and taking his beautiful heart away, “Please.”

You don’t know if your plea is for him to tell you that it’s going to be ok, that this is just a nightmare, nothing to be scared of when you’ll soon open your eyes anyways and realise how stupid you were being or if it’s for some deity up there to help you, to grant you another miracle.

You don’t know but either way, it falls on deaf ears and it doesn’t matter how much you cry and scream and beg and pull him into you, nothing changes. You had your chance, didn’t you? You were granted a wish, a proper miracle back inside that car less than twenty-four hours ago. That was it, that was your first and final ticket and you carelessly used it, without even thinking, without even… You break. There are a million tiny pieces of yourself right there on the ground, sprawled across the dirty floor like an impossible puzzle to rearrange.

“Baby.” His voice is soft. No trace of the fear he feels right inside his heart, not a single trace of the anger and despair running through his veins. His last gift to you, the only thing he has to offer, it would seem, is his feigned peace of heart and mind, “Baby, listen to me.”

You don’t want to listen because deep down, you already know what he’s going to say and you do not want to hear those words, you don’t want to have to remember them ever leaving his mouth. So you fight him, yank away from his arms, try to run from him and the new reality that you’ve been thrown into but there is no hiding, no running this time. It’s game over, right there above your heads, written in crooked and red all caps.

“Listen to me!”

It would be easy to close your eyes and let yourself drift inside that happy land full of memories you retract to whenever things get too intense and heavy but his eyes are filled with raging fire, dancing flames of coal that hold your gaze on him, trap you there so that you can’t escape, not even for a second, not this time.

“There is a gun inside my bag, I want you to take it and—”

“NO!” The scream that erupts from your mouth scratches your throat, burns you from the inside out with the same force of those flames still trapping you there, within the tight grasp of his hands on your shoulders.

“Please, baby,” one of his hands moves to caress the top of your head and you close your eyes to relish into the touch knowing it will probably be your last. You lean into his hand as it reaches one of your cheeks once more and the softest sob escapes your parted lips as you try with all your might to deny the fact that it is over, that this is it and there is no going back.

“Please don’t make me do it,” your voice breaks, quivers helplessly as you open your eyes once more, fix them back into his beautiful, shining ones. You can see the pain there, the guilt and despair laced with the fear of doom but what you see is nowhere close what Jeongguk really feels.

He’s scared. Scared beyond belief and far more than he has ever been. He’s scared of the unknown, he’s scared of the pain, he’s scared of leaving you behind like this, of what will happen to you once he is gone and nobody is left to protect you. He is scared of what you’ll do to yourself after he… but he has no choice, he has no fucking say in all of this and he hates himself for everything. He hates himself for being weak in his final moments, for not having the courage to do it himself but most importantly for allowing this to be your last time together. It shouldn’t be like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

But all these thoughts, all those words, they never leave his mouth. No. What comes out of his mouth is a reminder and a plea, all in one.

“You promised. We promised.”

It hits you just like a slap across the face, one so hard it would tilt your head to the side and turn the skin tender and boiling hot to the touch.

You remember that night. Sleeping under the stars in a dark alley trying to breathe as silently as possible to not gather the attention of the monsters roaming through the city, you laced your fingers together and promised with nothing but the night sky as your witness to never let yourselves become one of those soulless monsters. You promised while praying in your heart it’d never come the day either one of you would have to abide by it.

And now here you are.

“Don’t let me become one of them, baby, please. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Tears roll down his cheeks, harder and faster than ever before and each droplet breaks you a little more until truly, you feel like nothing of you is left. In this moment, you give up everything you’ve ever been. In this moment, you rip your soul to shreds and part ways with it knowing you’ll never be reunited with it in this life.

The sense of void engulfs you, swallows you whole and all you can hear are his words on repeat and oh, all you can see are those beautiful eyes of his pleading you to do it and you don’t know if it’s your hands that reach for his backpack to seize the gun nestled inside of it or if someone—or something—else is guiding your trembling fingers but, in an instant, the gun is there, right within your grasp and pointed straight to his head.

Jeongguk is looking at you and he tries to smile, tries to regard you with all the warmth filling his heart but he can’t hide the fear that is trapping him there, cutting the air out his lungs, turning his heart restless against his ribs. He fears everything but what he fears the most is what he’ll become if he doesn’t die right here, right now. So he forces himself to smile, he forces himself to nod, he forces his eyes to close and a sigh to move past his lips.

The bang echoes in your ears.

The bullet goes right through his head and yet you can fill it stuck right inside your heart instead, twisting into the flesh until you cannot breathe or think and all that is left is the pain and the scream of agony that leaves your trembling lips.

The gun slips from your quivering hands and hits the hard ground and your eyes fix on it long enough to notice the pool of red tinting the floor, soiling the carpet, slowly reaching for your shoes.

His blood.

You fall on the ground and break into tiny frail shreds of porcelain, so sharp they could cut deep into the skin, infiltrate under it and kill you from the inside out.

Your quivering hands are lost inside your hair, fisting them so hard you might pull them from your skull but you do not care nor feel any of the pain spreading through your body. No, not now when your eyes are fixed on what remains of his beautiful face. Those eyes that used to hold galaxies in them are void now, dark and lifeless like a night sky without a single star. Those pretty rosy lips you kissed until yours ached are now pale and turning cold, stuck in a perpetual “o” of utter shock. Those warm and delicate hands that used to hold you, caress you, explore you are now grasping nothing but the thin air and you open them to lace your fingers with them one last time.

One.

Last.

Time.

The desperate cries come then.

You are deaf to your own screams, blind to the tears coiling down your face, oblivious to the way your body shakes with each strangled breath, with each inconsolable sob. You throw yourself on his motionless body, rest your head atop his chest as if he were nothing more than asleep and you cling to his shirt begging him to hug you back just like he used to, reassure you that it’s all going to be ok, that this is just another one of your crazy nightmares, that none of this is real.

But when you open your eyes he’s still lying motionless on the ground, his eyes are still void and staring up at the ceiling and his arms are still sprawled on the floor and not tucked around your body to keep you safe. And the worst part of it is that this is all because of you. You did this to him.

The bang echoes in your ears again, louder and louder with each passing second and closing your eyes doesn’t work anymore because now, all you see behind those closed lids is his dead face and those bottomless black eyes.

Everything breaks inside of you, everything shatters and falls helplessly on the soiled floor to join him and fly away with him to a place far away from here. And oh, how much you wish you could join him, that you could pick up that damn gun, point it to your head and just let the last remnants of your soul go so that you won’t have to face this or live through this a second longer but you don’t and you try to tell yourself it’s because you are a coward, that it’s because deep down you want to survive no matter what because it would be easier to accept that, it would be easier to just loathe yourself and think the most despicable things about yourself but, alas, it wouldn’t be the truth. No, even now, even when his eyes cannot see you anymore, even when his voice cannot reach you, and his hands cannot hold you, you’re still doing everything for him.

If you close your eyes, if you focus on the silence surrounding you hard enough to tune out the loud bangs ricocheting through your consciousness, you can almost hear him begging you to keep on living, to keep on fighting for your dream so that his death is not in vain, so that not everything is lost. But even still, it is not enough for you to lift yourself up, for your legs to move and bring you out of this apartment, out if this forsaken town. It is not enough for you to actually stand up and fight for your life, for a chance at survival, for an actual future. So you stay there, on the floor, with your arms wrapped around him and your head resting on his immobile chest. And you remain there for hours, crying until there are no tears left to cry, until your eyes burn and your throat aches, until the sun goes down and you are enveloped in darkness.

You stay there, motionless just like him except for the steady rise and fall of your chest and not even the noises coming down the hallway, not even the sound of steps startle you, prompt you to leave him behind and run to safety.

Your eyes move to the door as it swings open and you’re almost ready to welcome your end without even trying to put up a fight but it is not a monster that stands right there, on the edge of this apartment door. No, it’s a human and that human is pointing a gun straight to your head.

“Fuck!”

The man curses, takes a step back and pulls his gun away from your face to point it on the floor instead.

“You’re human.” He says and you notice how deep his voice is, warm like honey and comforting like a lover’s hug, “I almost shoot you in the head.”

The man’s eyes look kind even though the shock is still written all over his face but that warmness disappears in an instant as he finally takes in the scenery before him: a pool of blood, a pair of void eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, a gun abandoned on the floor not too far away from your feet.

It is clear from the way he looks at you that he’s seen this before, probably even lived through it and the tenderness in his gaze, the way he takes careful steps towards you, the way he softly calls for you with a simple ‘hey’, oh, they all bring the tears and despair back and within seconds you are sobbing all over again and so hard your body shakes and menaces to actually splinter with the force of your pain. It is then that this stranger’s arms engulf you, surround you just like the tallest and safest towers ever created by mankind and you let him because you need this, you need someone to hold you together even for just a few seconds and even if you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours.

“Joon, the whole floor is clear, looks like we found somewhere for a good night’s sleep tonig—oh…”

There’s another man standing at the door now, his eyes big as saucers as he takes in the scene before his very eyes and you watch how his mouth opens and closes as he struggles to put together the whole thing and honestly, if this were a movie it would almost be amusing and comical but even the hope to wake up and discover it was all part of a nightmare, a recreation of your mind after watching a stupid horror movie alone in the middle of the night is now gone, completely erased.

“Yes, bring the others in, we’re going to stay.”

The other boy looks up at the stranger still holding you—Joon?—with questioning eyes but doesn’t dare to speak a single word and instead retreats to the end of the corridor in utter silence.

“It’s just four of us,” he says then, looking down at you with a tender smile, “We need somewhere to stay for the night and you probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”

He welcomes your silence with a slight nod of his head and then his arms are gone and you almost reach out for him to beg him to keep you in his embrace until you’re sure you’re not going to break apart into thousands of pieces but you don’t. Too afraid to ask, too scared to even dare to.

“We’re headed to the Refuge. Have you heard of it? It’s quite close at this point, if the rumours are true. It’s a community of humans that has successfully kept those fuckers out.”

“We…we were going there too.” Your voice is small and croaky, barely above a whisper but in the silence of the apartment, he hears your words loud and clear and responds to them with a hum.

“You could come with us.”

His words are simple yet they startle you, they prompt your eyes to fix back on Jeongguk’s lovely face and suddenly you are hyperventilating because no, you can’t leave him behind like this, you can’t leave his body here for those monsters to feed on. You just can’t.

The stranger’s arms are around you in an instant once more, his voice is soothing in your ears as he tries to calm you down, to stop the tears and the choking sobs but all his words fall on deaf ears as you start breaking apart all over again. You scream and cry your heart out and he lets you, he doesn’t leave your side again though, no, he keeps you right there within his embrace and he doesn’t give up and it does not make sense for someone you’ve barely even met to care so much about you, to have this much patience but maybe, maybe after seeing so much horror, after parting with so many different people just like you did he decided not to leave anyone else behind if he can, not even random girls met in an empty apartment in a forsaken, nameless city on a crumpled map.

“I know it’s hard but it’s going to be ok, I promise. You can’t give up now, ok? We’re so close, so freaking close and I didn’t know him but if he cared about you just as much as you evidently care about him, I’m sure he’d want you to move on, he’d want you to fight and win this battle and survive.” His words do come through this time and they should probably soothe your heart but they break it harder because no, he didn’t know Jeongguk but then why do his words match him so well he could have said them himself? You know he’d want you to follow them, to bring yourself to salvation and wasn’t that exactly what you told yourself while embracing his dead body all those hours ago?

The stranger breaks the embrace enough to look inside your eyes, to tentatively reach out to dry your tears and there is so much affection in his gaze, in the careful way he touches you, in the little dimpled smile he shows you and you already know, you’ll never be able to thank him enough for all of this.

“Who are you?” Your question comes out as a trembling whisper yet he catches on to it and smiles harder, pulls his gaze away from your face as his cheeks turn a lovely shade of coral. What you meant to ask was if he’s an angel, someone sent from up above to save you and guide you through this difficult path and maybe he gets what you mean or maybe he doesn’t but still, he replies and it’s the easiest answer he could ever give you, “I’m Namjoon.”

It is then, as you whisper his name and get acquainted with it that the other boy returns, followed by two more young men and their belongings which, just like yours, fit all inside a single bag.

“This is Jimin,” the boy next to you points to the shortest one of the bunch and you watch him blush as he slightly bows down while chewing on his bottom lip. He was the one that found you and Namjoon on the ground and his eyes still spark with curiosity but he doesn’t dare ask any questions and you are grateful for that.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon says, pointing towards the guy standing right next to Jimin, his fingers laced around the other boy’s in an unequivocal way that reminds you in an instant of the way Jeongguk always used to hold your hand any chance he got, especially the past few weeks.

“And that is Seokjin.” The last boy waves at you and the discomfort in his features is enough for you to pull your gaze away from him and fix it back on the ground.

No matter how much you try, you can’t shake the fact that this is wrong, that all of this is just wrong. You staying here, those boys standing here all around you, invading the privacy of this place and what it holds in it and you hate that this is somewhat normal to them—and to you—that it doesn’t shock humans anymore to find others with holes in their heads or even worse.

Silence envelops you and none of them breaks it and it stretches on and on until you can’t take it anymore, until it feels like you cannot breathe anymore.

“He was bitten,” you utter then, voice trembling and tears falling on your cheeks slowly like fat, translucent pearls. “He asked me to… I had no choice but… He—His name is-was Jeongguk.”

The boys bow their heads when you lift your head up and you can see the sadness in their eyes, the recognition and understanding that comes with experiencing all of this on your own skin, with your own eyes and maybe that’s why you don’t say anything when Namjoon slowly pulls Jeongguk away from your arms, maybe that’s why you let Seokjin lift you up from the ground in favour of the couch, maybe that’s why you let them touch him, close his eyes, pull him away and clean his blood off of the floor the best they can.

“We’ll bring him with us, we’ll bring him to the Refuge and spread his ashes there, away from all of this. What do you say?”

“Why are you doing this for me?” You look up to Namjoon while you hug your legs close to your chest and in that moment you don’t realise how ungrateful you must sound to him, questioning him and his motives over and over again instead of thanking him with all that you’ve got but he doesn’t comment on it, no, he offers you a gentle smile and a little sigh that holds all the exhaustion he must feel in it.

“Because there’s too little of us left to not care about each other at this point.”

Those words warm your heart, they warm your shivering body and move you in ways you didn’t think possible anymore. That little part left of your soul holds onto his words, onto the hope he provides and it hangs on to it with both nails and teeth refusing to let go and it’s that part of you that makes you open your mouth once more but this time, it is to offer some help and not just throw more burden to the mix.

“We found a car. It still has fuel in it and we planned to use it to reach the Refuge.”

Maybe this was all meant to be. Maybe, you were meant to meet and save those boys and they were meant to find you and pull you back together in the darkest hour of your life. Yes, maybe it was all written in the stars and it might not be fair because life, you’ve learned, hardly ever is but when your eyes land on the tall white walls of a city hidden in the mountains the following night, all the puzzle pieces fit together.

You watch the flames dance, feel the warmth of the fire on your hands, rising up to your arms and slowly reach your face like comforting hands tying to caress your body.

The heat makes your eyes water, makes your skin feel impossibly hot and yet you don’t move a single inch and find yourself almost wishing those flames would actually reach out and claim you right along with him, burn you until there’s nothing but ashes to remind the world that once, you existed. But it’s not you that burns, no, it’s Jeongguk. You watch his lovely body disappear inside those flames: his strong arms that used to hold you, his rosy lips that used to kiss you and call your name so sweetly whenever you were together, those beautiful eyes of coal you always got lost in, that luscious raven locks you loved to run your fingers through or tug on depending on the mood… you watch it all burn and disappear.

There is a comforting hand on your shoulder. The touch is delicate and sweet, enough to soothe your aching soul without it being too invasive and you are glad for it, for his presence by your side. Kim Namjoon saved you in more ways than meet the eyes. He saved you two nights ago when he found you holding Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he saved you when he put you inside that car with his friends, he saved you when he successfully brought you here, to the Refuge, where you can now freely mourn your loss and do it right. This is the first proper goodbye you were granted ever since it all started and in this moment you part ways with the love of your life but also with your family and friends, with everyone you’ve ever met that turned into an impossible monster or perished before the venom could turn them into one. And you allow yourself to break a little because it’s ok, you’re allowed this one moment of weakness now, you’re allowed to cry your heart out for all the things you’ve lost during this fight.

Your knuckles turn white against the necklace around your neck. The sharp ends of the feather dig into your skin and you let it, hell, you even grasp it tighter as if trying to merge your hand with it as if that could somehow bring him back or let him live right inside of you to his fullest. The tears run faster down your cheeks because this, right within your grasp, is all there’s left of him: a necklace and your memories. Nothing more.

All that Jeongguk was, his past and present and future, they were all swept away in an instant, like dust under the force of the wind and you are the only one that remains to remember him, to tell his story to the world, to let him live on so that he won’t ever be forgotten amongst the millions of lives that were lost.

Just you, a necklace and a fist of ashes.

It’s with trembling fingers that you release them all in the air, let his entire being be swept away by wind so that it can cover the land all around you and be reborn in this field in the form of beautiful flowers, majestic trees, droplets of water to fill the river running down the hills.

The breeze is warm against your skin and if you close your eyes you can almost imagine his fingers caressing your body just like the wind is, you can almost imagine him embracing you through this air surrounding you, playing with your hair and enveloping your body.

For the first time in days, you smile. You smile at the thought of him being finally free and at peace right where he wanted to be, you smile at the thought of him looking down at you with his beautiful eyes, with pride shining in them. You smile at the thought of him nodding his head while patting yours, you smile at the idea of his fingers lacing with yours one last time as he says his goodbye with the promise of always looking down on you, of always protecting you, even from up there where nothing goes unseen. You smile and you thank him for loving you so much, for saving you countless of times even before the zombies arrived, even before you realized you were being saved and that you even needed to.

You thank him and tell him how much you love him, how you will never forget him, how you’ll keep cherishing him and keeping him right inside your heart for every second of your life from here moving forward and you repeat those promises you shared one year ago, on that altar, so that he knows you are his forever and no matter what, you’ll always belong to him just like him belonged to you until his very last breath.

When the touch of a hand warms your shoulders and brings you back on Earth, for a second you startle and foolishly hope to turn around and see him standing right there, smiling at you with his head slightly tilted to the side. But when you turn it’s not Jeongguk that welcomes you, no, it’s Namjoon with his timid smile, with eyes full of wonders and understanding and this time, your smile, incredibly, does not falter nor disappear.

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word and he doesn’t need to because you know, even though you’ve barely met him, that he is simply there for you, that he is offering you his support and friendship amidst those difficult times and you don’t tell him how grateful and touched you are but a part of you suspects he already knows.

Your eyes drift away from his face and it is then that you notice the other three boys standing a few steps back from the two of you, their eyes fixed on you and the deserted land right behind your back.

They came.

You don’t know when they arrived or if they’ve been there the whole time but either way, you are grateful for their presence too because at least, someone else besides you is here to say goodbye to the wonderful man that was Jeon Jeongguk and it does not matter that they never met him and that they never will, they are still here to accompany his soul somewhere far away from this nightmare and the smile on your lips spreads while tears run down your cheeks once more.

You thank them, your voice nothing more than a trembling breath and they smile back at you, nod their heads and join you right there, at the edge of this green cliff where it’s easy to imagine a new world full of peace and love.

You look up at the sky once more and as the silence envelops you and the boys once more, you whimper out your farewell.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk.”

The grass is soft and ticklish under your feet as you walk through the empty path that leads to your favourite spot: the edge of the hill.

A warm smile spreads on your lips and you unconsciously fasten your pace as your eyes land on the vast sea of green, the clear sky up ahead, the dozens of flowers scattered all over the valley.

“Hey there, handsome.”

Your voice breaks the silence of the heaven-like place, gets carried away by the gust of wind that welcomes you right there, in front of the marble stone where you are bound to be found every single day, right when the sun rises up in the sky and shines brightly on everything in sight.

Your fingers reach out to caress the marble, feel the crevices that make out his name right under your digits. You’ve done this countless of times before and yet you still hope one day they’d get engraved in your digits and stay there to accompany you every single hour for the rest of your life.

You heave out a little sigh as you let your body fall on the ground to hug your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them.

You know this is futile, you know that there is absolutely nothing of him right there, under the ground, that this is just a symbol of his existence, of the fact that once, a great man named Jeon Jeongguk walked the Earth and yet, you still come here every day to talk to him, to see him and remember him like he used to be before everything crumbled down and burned.

This time, it feels different though. Your smile falters a little, you divert your gaze and fix it on the ground to play with the grass, pluck with your fingers whilst you search for the right words to speak because you know, the moment they’ll hang up in the air they’ll become real and part of you is still not ready to face it all, to embrace the inevitable change coming your way.

“Today is the day,” you say then before biting down your bottom lip whilst lifting your gaze back up. In an instant, the tombstone disappears and sitting right across from you is Jeongguk. His eyes are sparkling, his lips are twisted a little to the side in a gentle smile and he is nodding his head in encouragement, urging you to speak up.

“We’re leaving in an hour.” Your voice is small and full with the uncertainty you feel blossoming right inside your heart.

Five years have passed since that night in that city in ruin. Five years spent in this Refuge trying to save and rebuild humankind. Five years of battles and uncertainties and pain, so much pain, but also joy and relief and victories and now, now the nightmare is over and what awaits for you outside this safe haven is a world similar to the one you left behind before the zombie appeared. A normal world rebuilt by those that were left behind, a world full of normalcy and opportunities and peace.

But you are scared. Scared of the future, scared of leaving this place that has kept you alive and safe for so long, scared of leaving him behind even though there is nothing of him left in this place anyways. But Jeongguk smiles at those words and it’s one of those dazzling smiles that used to make butterflies dance in your stomach, that used to turn your heart into a hummingbird, that used to make you feel as warm as the sun itself. You can almost hear his voice then, telling you how happy he is and that you should not be afraid, that he’ll still be right here for you, watching over you every step of the way.

It’s then that the tears come and fall down your cheeks. It’s then that you nod your head and promise him you’ll be back, one day, to sit just like this on this spot of grass in front of his tombstone. It is also then that a pair of small hands comes up your face, hides the sight of Jeongguk from you, throwing you into a pitch-black darkness that instead of fear brings nothing but laughter.

“My, my, who is this? Could it be my little monkey, by any chance?”

Yoona’s laugh fills the air as you turn around and welcome her in your embrace to tickle her to the point of tears. Her eyes shine as she looks up at you and you can see so much of him in there sometimes it’s almost painful to look at her but today, today it serves as a reminder that you’ll always have a part of him right beside you, no matter what.

“I’m sorry, _______. I tried to buy you a little more time but she just wouldn’t sit still.”

Namjoon’s voice reaches you then and as you lift your eyes you watch him stand there with his apologetic smile, dimples in full display as he shakes his head while watching your daughter struggling under the torture of your fingers on her belly.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. I was done anyways.”

You smile at your kid, bump your nose together with hers and hug her tight to your chest. She’s your little miracle, the very last gift he left behind before turning into ash and when you thought all of you was gone, when you thought you’ll never be able to love anyone else anymore, she came your way and filled your heart with all the love of the world.

You hear Namjoon’s steps as he walks away, allowing you one last moment with the love of your life and this is just one thing more to add to the list you are immensely grateful to him for. At this point, you are convinced not even an entire lifetime will be enough for you to be able to repay him or thank him enough for all that he has done for you all these years.

“Are you ready to leave, baby?”

Yoona nods her head in excitement. She’s the adventurous type, just like her dad used to be, and the thought of seeing the outside world thrills her so much she could barely sleep last night. This place is all she’s ever known, all she’s ever seen but you told her about the world outside those high walls made of stone, you told her stories about faraway places that look nothing like the Refuge, you told her fairytales from your childhood but also memories of yourself, her grandparents, her father and now that this world she’s been dreaming about is suddenly within her grasp all she wants to do is reach her little arm out and grasp it with all her might.

“Are you sad, mommy?” Her little palm rests on your cheek and it is then that you realise a few tears have escaped your control once more. You quickly brush them away but that is not enough to bring the smile back on her lovely face, to erase the worried expression twisting her features. “Is it because of daddy?”

She turns around towards the tombstone then before reaching out her little arm to feel the characters that make out his name under her digits, just like you always do. You know she is caressing his face now, that she’s making sure he knows how much she loves him even though she has never seen his face before, even though she has never heard his voice before and all she can do is imagine, fantasize and dream about him.

“Will daddy be sad if we leave?”

Her voice is small and your heart breaks a little and oh, it takes all your strength to keep the tears from falling now, to hold the pain deep inside of you where she can’t see it. You tighten your grasp around her, rest your chin on her tiny little shoulder so that you can place soft kisses on her cheek and reassure her that it’s ok, that you’re going to be ok and that no matter what, he’ll always be right beside her and all she’ll ever need to do is close her eyes to see him and feel him all around her.

“No, baby girl. Daddy will always be with us, no matter where we go and he’s happy, so so happy we’re going on a little adventure.”

She smiles a little, nods her head a couple of times before diverting her gaze to the necklace around her neck. She grasps the feather with her tiny fingers, brings it to her lips to kiss it lovingly and then she turns to you and the storm seems to have passed, just like that.

“Because he’s right here, right?”

She brings the necklace towards your face and you nod a couple of times before pointing right to her heart, “And right here.”

Yoona smiles her brightest smile and untangles from your embrace in favour of the tombstone. You watch her throw her arms around the marble stone and hug it tight to her chest and then you hear her whisper her farewell words—Goodbye, daddy. I love you.—and oh, your heart breaks all over again in an instant. And you would break too, right then and there, if it weren’t for her little smile and for Namjoon’s voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We have to leave soon.”

His voice is apologetic and full of understanding and you offer him and your daughter a gentle smile as you finally rise up from your spot. Your baby throws her arms around your neck as you lift her up and warmth spreads through your body as you hug her closer to remind yourself why you are doing this, why you are leaving all of this behind. For Yoona.

Namjoon’s hand finds your shoulder then as he throws one of his arms around you and even though he doesn’t speak a single word, you hear all of the things he wishes he could say to you and when you look at him, you silently thank him over and over again like you have been doing every single day of these past few years.

But your last words in this place are not reserved for him, no, they are for Jeongguk and only for him to hear.

Goodbye, my love. I will always love you.

A gust of wind caresses your cheeks then and you smile at the bright sky above your head because deep down, you know this is him touching you and when you close your eyes, just for a second, you can hear his voice through the gentle breeze, whispering right inside your ears.

Don’t fear, my love. I’ll always be by your side. I love you.

Copyright © 2020 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved. Do not repost, do not steal, do not translate without consent.

[jawritter]

Happy Halloween

Summary: It’s Daddy’s favorite holiday. So what’s a good girl gonna do, but let him blow off some steam after a successful hunt?

Warnings: Daddy kink, hair pulling, consensual name calling, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, spanking, light edging, orgasm control, language, rough sex, oral (male receiving), mouth fucking, hint of a pain kink maybe? I think that’s about it. This is just porn with a crack ass plot. I’m not sorry lol.

Word Count: 3092

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: You guys ask for some Daddy!Dean for Kinktober? Well, who can say no to that? This fic was beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

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Dean had always been the aggressive sort. He didn’t take shit from very many people, and if you were one of those  who he did take it from, you counted yourself as lucky. He’d even gone off on Sam more than once, and Sam could get away with more than most. 

It was one of the side effects of dealing with the life that you all were thrust into when you were just children. Your father had been hunting partners with John for years, off and on, when you were children, so you had known the Winchesters for a very long time, long enough to know you did NOT push your luck with the eldest Winchester.

Even though Dean was always hard in a sense, there was a time when he wasn’t as hard as he is today. Back then, the hardest thing he had to do in his life was impress John Winchester, and that had been more challenging than any monster he’d ever faced. 

 Life was as simple then. A vamps nest, the occasional Djinn.You killed the monsters,  you saved a few lives. That time was long gone for the both of you. John's death had opened up a whole new world of monsters, demons and dick angels. Things that you weren’t prepared for, and neither was Dean. Dean spent what was only four months to you, but was forty years to him in Hell. Literal Hell. Sam jumped in the cage with Lucifer. Life became a downward spiral that just went on and on, until you found yourselves here today. 

God had it in for you.The son of Lucifer was dressed as the Devil, courtesy  of Dean’s twisted amusement, in the backseat of the Impala he’d deemed “Baby” years ago. You were on your way to a Halloween party that was expected to go south thanks to one of those rare simple vamps nest your unconventional group  had been investigating.

“Dean, I don’t know about this,” Jack said, looking at his own reflection in the rearview mirror where he caught the look of Dean's amused gaze. The red paint on the boys face was a little much in your opinion, but hey, you weren’t in charge of this shitshow, so you decided to keep your trap fucking shut.  

“It’s simple Jack,” Dean said.You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, and you were determined to look dead ahead of you, and not in the backseat where you would probably die laughing. “You go to the party, just stand back, watch, find a chick maybe. I don’t give a fuck, but just make sure that no vamp gets inside that fucking house until Y/N and I can take care of the mother fuckers. If one does show itself, lure it out to us, and we will take care of it.”

Dean made it sound so simple, and you could only imagine how nervous Jack was. He didn’t have the conventional upbringing of most people as it was. Technically, he wasn’t even 12 yet, he was just advanced because of his race, and somethings just didn’t come quite so naturally to Jack as Dean had thought that it should. That, or Dean just didn’t give a shit, because he was never really going to forgive him for Mary’s death. He just wasn’t.

“You will be fine Jack. Just keep a low profile, and watch out for vamps. Dean and I can take care of the rest,” you told him in what you hoped was an encouraging tone. “This will be a piece of cake, and we will be back at the hotel before you know it.” 

Jack fell quiet as he looked at the landscape flying past the backseat window, and your eyes trailed Dean's still amused face as he drove down the  farm road to the old ranch house the teenagers were attending for  tonight's festivities. 

Dean loved Halloween. It was one of the only holidays that he really did enjoy. Sam, on the other hand? Well, Sam hated it, and when Dean found this case, Sam decided to stay behind with Eileen while you, Dean, Jack took care of this small little case that was only three states over.

Dean had tried to convince you to dress up for the occasion, but quickly changed his mind when you told him that there was not a chance in hell you could hide a machete in the slutty nurse costume he’d picked out for you. That’s how the plan to dress Jack up ,  and place him in the party watching the party goers was born. 

You and Dean  had a history.That history had started when he’d taken your virginity when you were only 18 years old. Every time you got a chance after that, you found yourselves between the sheets, in the back seat, and against the walls of bars in dark alleyways. Dean had a “healthy appetite”, and even in his forties he still carried the stamina of a horny teenage boy. You weren’t complaining either. 

Somewhere around thirty, he’d discovered his Dom fetish, and that  literally  fucking ruined all other men for you. You should have known Dean’s “take no shit” attitude would have translated over into the bedroom eventually. It was the one place he could have complete control, and the one place he could let off steam with someone he trusted.That someone was you. 

Since tonight was his favorite holiday, you had decided when this small little hunt was over, Dean would get to see you in that slutty nurse costume he’d wanted you to wear so bad. After all, daddy always gets what he wants, and that’s why you had jumped up and suggested the kid get his own room. 

You watched the sky turn dark as Dean speed towards the party and the hunt, your mind on just what Dean was going to say when he discovered you had kept the costume. 

Three hours later, you found yourself standing in the hotel room that you and Dean  would be sharing for the night, staring down at the nurse’s outfit on the bed before quickly sliding the towel that was covering your body to the floor, and picking up the  costume. You only had a few minutes before Dean would be done with his shower, and he’d already ordered you to be in position when he returned to the room. He just didn’t know about the costume. 

Dean was usually in a good mood after a good hunt, and this hunt was the first easy thing they’d done in a long time, so therefore Dean was in a very good mood. 

You had just slipped the last strap over your shoulder, and got into the kneeling position on the bed that he required you to be in when waiting for him, when you heard the shower cut off, and the door to the bathroom open. 

The room was dark.The only light that came into the room was coming from the bathroom and it flooded the small room as Dean rounded the corner to see his prize. Judging from the predatory growling sound he made when he saw you waiting for him, he was very pleased, but you knew better than to look up from your submissive stance and make eye contact without permission. Dean wasn’t going to take your shit, and you wanted to cum tonight. Slick already gathered itself between your spread thighs in anticipation of what was to come, and Dean hadn’t even laid a hand on you yet. 

Dean’s eyes shamelessly raked over you as he made his way towards the bed.You could feel his piercing gaze, even though you couldn’t see it, and you waited with bated breath for Dean’s approval, which came in the form of the Dean’s rough thumb reaching out, and running across your red painted lips. You reached your tongue out and swept over the tip of his thumb, twirling it  around this thick digit as if it were his cock before sucking it into your mouth, and letting it go with a pop. 

Dean groaned at the sensation as he watched your lips around his thumb, and his dick twitched in interest as his eyes roamed the barely there costume that you were wearing for him. 

“Such a good little slut, waiting for Daddy, all dressed up so pretty,” Dean said, his rough voice causing a shiver to visibly roll through your body, and land in your already aching cunt. 

Dean chuckled at the reaction and he brushed his fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear to get a better view of your face. It was a move that was almost too intimate for what was to come, but it was his way of asking you if you trusted him and you did.You trusted Dean with your life. 

When he noticed you lean into his touch, it was the only permission he seemed to need. That and the high adrenaline made him more impatient than what he would have normally been . His large hand fisted your hair almost painfully as he jerked your eyes up to meet his darkened gaze. His bare chest and body was on display for you, as his hard length twitched on its own from it’s proud position. A bead of precum was already forming at the tip, and you licked your lips as you watched it bob there. He needed this. He needed this just as much as you did tonight, and damn, you wanted to taste him so bad. 

His eyes followed your gaze, and if you would have not forgone the underwear you were sure that the smirk he gave you would have melted them clean off your already overly heated body. 

“What is it, sweetheart? Daddy’s little cock slut wants to have a taste before I ruin that pretty little pussy of yours tonight?”

The needy wine that left you lips wasn’t the answer Dean was looking for, so he gripped your hair impossibly tighter, and growled as he looked down at your  form as you all but squirmed underneath him. 

“Use your words. I want to hear you beg for it,’ Dean said, lowering his face so close to your own that his lips brushed yours with every word, and his whiskey kissed breath fanned warm over your skin. 

“Please Daddy, please let me suck your cock, I’ll be a good girl, please let me taste you,” you begged him in a small voice that surprised even you. Dean’s mouth meet yours in a clash of lips, tongue and teeth that ended with his perfectly straight teeth sinking into your lower lips before he pulled away to soon, leaving you breathless and at his mercy, his grip still tight in your hair as he guided you to his impressive length before tapping your mouth with his swollen tip. 

Reaching out with your tongue you lick softly at his dripping slit. The salty taste of his precome filled your mouth, and you moaned as he gave your hair a sharp jerk, sending the jolt from your scalp to your pussy, that was literally dripping down your leg onto the already stained bed sheets under you. 

“No teasing, Bitch,” Dean spat, his teeth gritted against the shiver of anticipation that rolled through his own spine. “Hands behind your back, you know the rules. No touching yourself. I’m gonna fuck that filthy little mouth, and then I’m going to split open that pretty little cunt.”

As ordered, you opened your mouth and Dean pressed himself into your waiting lips. You sucked at him as he slowly pressed himself into your open mouth. Your tongue ran along the vein under this shaft as he adjusted to the feeling of your mouth around him, stopping when the tip touched the back of your throat with a grunt,  his teeth biting into his own lip.

Your fingers dug into your palms as arousal coursed through your body with renewed fervor. Dean’s cock laying heavy on your tongue as you gulped in oxygen. You knew that would be the last easy breath  until he was satisfied with your mouth as his eyes locked with your own.

“Eyes on me pretty girl,” he commanded as he started to thrust himself slowly in and out of your mouth. “I want to see the look on your face when you choke on my dick.”

Giving him a hard suck in response, Dean started to fuck your mouth with harsh thurst as you tired desperately  to relax your throat and hollow out your checks to take all that he was giving you. Your cunt pulsed with every thrust of his hardness into your mouth, and it was all you could do to keep your hands behind your back, and not give yourself the relief you so desperately needed. The only balance you were able to maintain was on your knees, and Dean’s hand still pulled your hair tight as he fucked himself into your mouth over and over again. 

You did all you could to keep your eyes on him as your throat contracted around his tip as it assaulted you over and over again. Tears were streaming down your face, and your lipstick was ruined as drool dripped from your mouth, but you dared not break eye contact with Dean. 

He was beautiful when he lost control like this. His green eyes rolled in pleasure every so often. The vein he loved to let you bite showing in his throat as he strained to keep from spilling into your mouth. 

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself. Taking my cock so good baby girl.”

You moaned desperately around his length at his praises and he shivered above you, his pace faltering as he pulled himself from your mouth just before he could fall over the edge.You gasped desperately for air as he let go of your hair, and you fell down to your hands and knees on the mattress and he positioned himself behind you. 

A hard smack to your ass caused you to whimper as you felt him slide his thick cock through your slick, not entering you, just teasing your throbbing clit with his tip, his fingers leaving delicious little bruises as his large hands held you in place. 

“Look at you,” he moaned as your warmth edged around him just enough to make him nearly lose it right there on the bed sheets. “So wet, so needy.” Another harsh smack to the other cheek made you jump and a scream left your lips as frustration and arousal created the needful ache between your legs. Dean’s slow thrusts against your clit pulled you to the edge, but never let you fall over. “What do you want? Tell me.Tell Daddy what you need.”

“Please Daddy, please, I need you, need your cock, please,” you begged him, and he moaned behind you as his hand ran up your back, over your barely there costume, and into your hair again, giving it a hard jerk as his tip breached you, waiting for heat. “Then take it, slut.”

That was all the warning you got before Dean was pounding you almost flat on your stomach, each thrust hitting your G-spot with mapped out precision.You were a screaming, moaning mess as he pounded you into oblivion.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean said, smacking your ass and never losing pace as each swat of his large hand made you moan, and your pussy spasm around his length. “You better not cum yet bitch! If you do, you know it will be the last time for a week. Do you understand?”

You moaned as you fought against the orgasm that had you shaking on the edge of delirium, and Dean gave your hair a hard pull, bring your back up to his chest, ripping your top down so that your tits flopped freely as he continued to pound into your ruined pussy, giving your exposed tits a harsh twist to get your attention. “Use your words Y/N, or I’m stopping, and I’ll finish myself off while you watch.” 

You knew he’d do it. He’d done it before, and Dean didn’t take shit from you, or anyone else, and he wasn’t afraid to take care of himself, and leave you waiting. 

“Yes Daddy, I understand,” you squealed as his fingers dug into your hips, his hand never letting go of your hair. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy,” he said as he picked up pace, until his hips started to stutter after what felt like an eternity, your own body buzzing as the orgasm you’d been holding off was becoming almost painful. 

“Touch yourself baby, I want to feel you come on my cock,” Dean said, his voice strained as he raced to his own end.

Your hand traveled down your still costume clad body, and to your swollen aching clit, matching his pace in rough circles. 

It didn’t even take a full minute before your pussy clamped down around his pulsing cock, and your orgasm rocketed through your body as he spilled deep inside of you. Dean pulled you both up as your bodies seized around one another, until he was able to remove his softening length from your body, and lay you gently down on the bed. 

Your body was still quaking slightly when you finally came back to yourself, as Dean cleaned the mess up between your legs before helping you out of your costume in silence. You watched as Dean crawled over you body, and pressed a sweet kiss to your swollen lips before cleaning the lipstick off your face. 

“You okay?” he asked  as your eyes met his. There was your Dean again, always worried, always concerned for someone else above himself. Even in this aspect of your relationship, he was always the nurturer that you had fallen in love with under that rough exterior so long ago. 

“I’m good Dean,” you tell him as his lips pecked at your own again, and he lay down next to you to pull your exhausted body against his own, tucking the covers in around you.

Maybe one day you’d tell each other you loved each other, but not today, for now this would be enough.

“Happy Halloween Daddy,” you told him, feeling him chuckle behind you, before his teeth bit playfully into your shoulder, leaving his mark on your skin. 

“Happy Halloween Baby Girl.”

Forever Tags: @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @rain-dance-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​

[shayberri789]

I posted 6 393 times in 2021

45 posts created (1%)

6348 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 141.1 posts.

I added 602 tags in 2021

#mha - 103 posts

#show meep - 90 posts

#deltarune - 88 posts

#aftg - 81 posts

#loz - 56 posts

#tloz - 47 posts

#pjo - 41 posts

#shay posts - 34 posts

#pied piper fic - 31 posts

#deltarune chapter 2 - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i’d do the tag but what i last wrote was character profiles for oc’s lmao i don’t even know what the last bit of creative writing i did was

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Okay but also, what if in the rwrb movie we get shots of Henry’s point of view during events? Please for the love of god I want to see henry Doing some royal bullshit in the palace or eating Jaffa cakes or whatever the fuvk they are at 3am and losing his shit at the weird texts Alex sends him.

OR OR OR. Henry’s reaction to the emails during meetings

And the TURKEYS. From an outside perspective. JUST IMAGINE

Like the directors don’t even NEED To change the plot to make the movie interesting to ppl who’ve read the books 6 times. Just make it the rwrb from Henry’s perspective. It’ll tick all the boxes for a great adaption:

- faithful

- yet new and interesting

- fulfill the undying desire of the entire fandom

- two hours of gay pining and panic

Like I would seriously kill for it sidndkdnd

108 notes • Posted 2021-10-20 02:54:51 GMT

#4

Ok but this shouldn’t be a surprise for anyone (but for some reason I have yet to see someone else say it) BUT.

Andrew’s love language is acts of service.

I don’t think I need to make a case for this; look at how/what he gives ground:

the halloween party

helping neil with his injuries both after christmas and baltimore

the time he spent with neil at the police

how much effort he goes through to keep his promises

his quietly doing things for people he cares for without a word 

80% of what he does for kevin

giving up crackers

I think a similar case could be made for gift giving. I know Nicky says that “Andrew isn’t one for giving gifts” in tfc but like. 

the keys. Come on. 

he gives neil cigarettes without being asked

the clothes he buys neil

bee’s figurines

he gives renee the keys to help jean

I’m blanking but there’s more, feel free to add lol

155 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 01:15:25 GMT

#3

Alright it’s been about 2 months since I read Carry On because Life but anyway from what I’ve seen the fandom is COMPLETELY sleeping on that part in CO when Baz returns to Watford after being kidnapped and he is LITERALLY like “I’m gonna announce myself before anyone else does and I’m going to be a Dramatic Gay™️ about it” and used magic to fucking FLING the cafeteria doors WIDE FUCKING OPEN while dressed all fancy like “I hope Simon notices me” Boy PLEASE

163 notes • Posted 2021-11-02 19:13:54 GMT

#2

If you think about it, the scene at the Hemmick’s house and Nicky’s relationship with his parents is a lot sadder when you consider what the foxes stand for.

In tfc, wymack said (paraphrased Bc j can’t remember it word for word) “it s about given you another chance - second, fourth, sixth, seventh I don’t care so long as it’s one more than you would’ve gotten otherwise”

That’s the foxes’ thing; second chances, they know they’re all fucked up and messing up and triggering each other left and right but they have faith in one another and even if they don’t always forgive they do give new chances. Nicky sees the benefit of it, he does it with his teammates and it rewards him, and they give him.

But he kept giving his family second chances, more than the other foxes would’ve, more than I would’ve (I would have never given them a second chance if they sent me to conversion camp, even if I had to live in the same house as them) because he hoped they’d do better like the foxes did, because surely they’re not as screwed up as the foxes right? But he didn’t fully realize that being fucked up is not the same as being filled with hate, and he didn’t realize they didn’t deserve his chances until they did something that made that fact apparent: they hurt Andrew, the person who Nicky gave second chances to and Andrew made them worth it, while all his parents ever did was hurt him further. And the parallels are just sad, ya know?

171 notes • Posted 2021-09-09 07:29:03 GMT

#1

My favorite thing about the aftg fandom is that we collectively decided Andrew has pierced ears and the twinyards have freckles.

266 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 20:46:30 GMT

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[junjungsunwoo]

2 kids, Mi Amor, Teardrops on my Tulips, Guns, Roses, and a Broken Promise  Vasílissa Mou (My Queen), Ruined Innocence ,The Work Of You ,The Ghost Of You

for the wip game love~

Sarah, my Queen, the Clyde to my Bonnie, my love <33

2 Kids: This story was (clearly) heavily based on Taemin's "2 Kids", more specifically the line "We were just 2 kids, too young and dumb" I had the idea for it out of nowhere after I finished read a really good angst fic (idk remember what it was tho), and I just wanted to hurt someone's feelings so that's really what made me want to write it lol

2 Kids:

The story starts with us in the reader (y/n)'s point of view. The reader and Eric was a couple in high school, childhood sweethearts if you will. The reader is completely in love with Eric, while Eric on the other hand is starting to feel 'weird' and so he starts to ignore the reader and soon the reader couldn't take it anymore, and they break up.

The next flashback ends (the part where we are reading as the reader) and we are now reading the story in Eric's point of view. Eric is remembering all of the times where you would tell him you loved him and how he never really responded with an 'I love you too', and he's regretting everything now.

And I can only give you that much for 2 kids hehe, Moving on!

Mi Amor I've already answerd! You can read that here!

Teardrops on my Tulips: This story wasn't based on anything really, but I had a really good idea for it and I had this title in my head for a long time so I finally had the perfect idea for the title!

Teardrops on my Tulips:

The reader was a Flower shop owner. She loved flowers, every color or every kind. She was always careful with her feelings and was known to be quite cold to the people she doesn't know.

One day, this man comes into her small shop, and the man was one of the most handsome men the reader has ever seen, and she didn't know it, but her heart skipped a beat the moment she landed her eyes on him.

The reader learns that the man's name was Jaemin, and soon, she starts to see him in her little shop every Saturday, buying different types of flowers and talking to her about the meaning of flowers. Slowly, the reader starts to fall for him.

Annnd I can't give you more before I ruin the (not so surprising) plot twist! ;)

Guns, Rose, and a Broken Promise: I'm not gonna lie, this plot came out after reading this really good mafia fic one day and after watching Sunwoo in the "The Stealer" MV because damnnnn that man's got me whipped. The story starts off really cliche but then it gets pretty intense lol.

Guns, Roses, and a Broken Promise:

The reader finds Sunwoo injured in an alley one day and she helps him out. The reader is very suspicious of Sunwoo and doesn't really trust him but little by little they get closer until one day they fell in love. One day, the fact that Sunwoo was a mafia boss was revealed and the reader is stuck in a place where she either has to break up with Sunwoo or she goes with Sunwoo to the mafia.

And I'm gonna stop there since I'd like you to read the story to find out what happens hehe, anyways, moving on-

Vasílissa Mou (My Queen): This story literally came out of nowhere. It's going to be written for a collab of mine (I'm pretty sure it's for Meraki. but don't quote me on that.) and I really just wanted to write about Greek god! Juyeon cause like, that man is *chef kiss*. If you didn't know, Vasílissa Mou is greek for (well if isn't obvious,) "My Queen". This story is heavily based on the Greek love story of Hades and Persephone.

Vasílissa Mou (My Queen):

Juyeon was a very lonely man. He was very powerful and a single word from him can destroy the whole world but he was very lonely. He had no companions other than his beloved dog, Cerberus- the guard dog of the underworld.

One time, while on a walk above the underworld, he stumbles across a beautiful woman- you. Juyeon was love struck. He didn't know what he was feeling. It felt warm and...soft- something Juyeon thought he could never feel. He knew he would do anything to get you, that he'd do anything for you.

He couldn't get over the sudden feeling that bloomed in his heart, and he starts to obsess over you. He would away watch as you interact freely and happily with the other god while he just watched on the side, too afraid that he would scare you. But he just couldn't take the feeling of being empty anymore- he needs you to fill him up, he needs you. Now.

And that's all I can give you mjsbgskdbjgkrsg You'll have to read to find out what happens hehe

Ruined Innocence: This highkey was also inspired by Sunmi's "Tail" because damn Queen slayed that comeback. I really wanted to flip the stereotypical roles around and have Younghoon as the innocent figure and the reader the "bad influence" so that's what I did, btw, this is set in a superhero/villain world.

Ruined Innocence:

The reader and Younghoon meet at a mutual friend's party. The reader was intrigued by Younghoon's innocence and she finds it amusing when he would shy away from her. She makes it her mission to turn Younghoon into a baddie. She takes every chance she gets to get close to Younghoon and spend time with him.

Little by little, Younghoon begins to fall under the reader's influence and starts to slowly turn more and more rebellious.

That's all I'll give you, for now, hehe, I'm super excited to write this out!

The Work of You: I've already told you about this one Sarah, but I'll post it for those who don't know because why not hehe. This wasn't really inspired by anything, I just liked the gore that will be in the fic hehe

The Work of You:

Kevin was a natural-born artist. It was like he had the touch of the Greek god Apollo. Any Canvas he touched was turned into paintings worth millions of dollars and all the songs he produced and sung were as if angels were hosting a choir. Kevin had only once muse- you.

You were everything to Kevin. Without you, Kevin wouldn't be where he is right now. Kevin loved you. He loved you so much. So much that it hurt him every time you were out of his sight. He couldn't stand being away from you even for a second. He loved you. He'd do anything for you to make you stay with him.

Anything. As long as you stay close to him.

And that's all I'll write for this one ljsbsldbg Sarah knows what's up after this but I' not gonna say, so please don't spoil in the comments Sarah~

Annnnd onto our last one!

The Ghost of you: I had this idea for a while when I started writing for my other WIP "Death of An Angel" but I wrote the other one for Jacob because baby is an angel, and when I joined Luna's Seventeen Halloween collab I knew I had to write this!

The Ghost of You:

The reader goes through a series of horror-filled situations the day before Halloween, and everywhere she looked, she could only see ghosts of the dead flying around excitedly. The reader was then dragged into an investigation by her boyfriend- Jeonghan, who acts very suspicious throughout the entire investigation. The reader spends the entire night and day of Halloween trying to help her detective boyfriend solve a case with her necromancy abilities.

And that's that! That's all I can give you!

I finally finished all of the ones you ask after about what? An Hour? lgnsgnsegk

I hope these caught your attention!