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gotta-winwin · 1 day ago

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⭐ starring: jeonghan

💌 genre: angst, fluff

💬 preview: jeonghan held your heart in the palm of his hands, his fingertips connected to the heartstrings that led to your chest.

tw/cw: fwb!jeonghan x reader, timeskips, abstract sex, messy love, mentions of grief and depression, growing old together

🪽fic rating: 18+

☁️ masterlist & a/n: based on the song black friday by tom odell, i've always loved the idea of finding the right person yet always having to wait for the right time. this is a part of my 500 followers celebration event -- our last instalment before february!

p.s thank you so much to @lovetaroandtaemin and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading ! my lovely wife tara also made the banner <33

Breathe in.

It was the middle of the night but you were still awake, hovering by your phone as you waited, humming some nonsensical tune as you eyed your phone.

Tonight was Black Friday, and Jeonghan might’ve been able to scrape by the afternoon, but you knew he wouldn’t survive the night. Not without you.

The phone rang. Two sharp notes. Just like you expected it would.

“Hello?” You raised the phone to your ear, listening carefully to the other end. Harsh pants and deep breaths reached you, as distant music echoed through the phone.

“Y/N.” Jeonghan’s voice was scratchy and harmed, not at all like his usual angelic tone. “I-”

“Send me your location.” You knew what he was here for.

Breathe out.

Jeonghan encroached on your territory like old companions would, chucking his shoes off in a lonely corner before enveloping you, arms closing around your waist as he buried himself close. And as much as you knew he did not belong to you, you couldn’t help but relax. It was neither your fault or his that the embrace always felt similarly shaped to home.

“Y/N.” Your name fell from his lips in a breathless whisper.

The skin around his eyes were colored the shade of red.

“Hannie.” Pulling him into your living room, you gently pushed him down onto the couch, moving into the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. Green tea. A splash of sugar. No lemon. Just the way he preferred it to be.

Silence was a precious commodity in your time with Jeonghan, as the two of you fed off each other's silences alone. Jeonghan would feel his mind slow, his tears fade, his lungs unruffle and breathe once again. You would feel waves of heartache and lingering pain.

Jeonghan was that vice of yours, something unattainable and unjustified. Jeonghan came to you in moments of grief -- and you knew it wasn’t right to take advantage of that vulnerability.

You told yourself again and again, maybe next time. Maybe next time you’d see each other in a better setting, one where you could approach him and tell him how you felt.

The time never came.

And so, you loved Jeonghan from afar, gentle hands tending to invisible wounds as your heart laid out on the table, bruised and fresh for the picking.

Breathe in.

Jeonghan worshiped you like he was trying to forget himself. Fervently, desperately, hips thrusting in time with your shared moans, his eyes trained on you like it was only the two of you in the world. Grief would be washed away with mind blowing pleasure and the first spark of love, if only momentarily.

When all was finished, he’d collapse beside you, sweaty skin pressing against your back as he whispered his quiet thanks, the well meant praises he promised were only for your ears to hear. He’d run his slender fingers through your hair, basking in the light your happiness gave him.

But like many good things, you and Jeonghan were always momentary.

Breathe out.

Your breath hits the cold bitter air as you watch his back profile, overnight bag slung over his shoulder as he hailed down a cab. His smile is taunt and weak as he waves, the nostalgia of your face already sinking deep into his bones.

He’ll miss you. Just never enough to call.

Breathe, again.

By the time the next Black Friday rolls around, you’ve moved apartments. No longer being in the same city as Jeonghan irks you, the feeling is strange and unsettling. You worry about him more than you’d care to admit. How he’s doing, what life currently looks like for him. Jeonghan lives in your mind far more than someone who’s just a friend should.

The phone rings. Once. Twice. While you’ve changed everything about your life ten times over since you’ve left highschool, your number is the only thing that stays constant.

Your finger hovers over the green. You hesitate. You know who’s on the other end of the line. Your sleep paralysis demon. Your ghost. The boy who’s been haunting you all your life.

“Jeonghan?” You speak into your phone.

You pick up. You always do.

“Y/N.” He breathes out. “I’m in your city.” A pause, and you hear the sound of partygoers behind him. “Can I come over?”

The cycle repeats.

Breathe, for the last time.

Jeonghan asks to fly you over. There’s a slight shift in the way he frames his words, a bit more bashful than you were used to him being.

“Can you come over, baby? I’ll fly you to my city.”

Jeonghan had never once crossed the line of calling you baby.

But of course you had said yes. You always, fucking, did.

“Of course.” You had replied, already looking at how many shifts you could cancel for the weekend. “I’d love to come see you.”

Breathe, bitch.

“I think I fell in love with you.” He admits, halfway through a bottle of red wine. “A little bit. Somewhere along the way of-” He gestures at the air between the two of you. “-this.”

“What?” Your heart beats, so loud you swear he could hear it.

“I’m in love with you.” A cheeky smile graces across his face and his eyes twinkle under the dim kitchen lights of his high rise apartment. The moon is full tonight.

“You’re-” You choke on your words. “You’re in love with me? Since when?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just sort of, happened.”

And although you’ve played out this moment in time a hundred times in your head, what you feel next surprises you. You don’t feel love, no. You feel red, hot, anger.

“You’re in love with me?” The words come out loud, unrestrained and full of disbelief. “Oh, why? Because it’s now convenient for you?”

Jeonghan stares at you with his mouth parted.

“I know you were grieving- but I don’t know- it didn’t hit you that maybe it was wrong to keep me on your every beck and call for these past ten years? Showing up whenever you need a woman’s comfort and touch to help you forget?”

“You didn’t have to pick up.”

A rippling laugh escapes you, along with a scoff. “I love you, Yoon Jeonghan. Of course I always picked up.”

“You love me?” Because of course, that was the only thing he heard.

You blink, taken aback by how soft his voice suddenly is. “I do.” It wasn’t hard to admit it anymore, not when it had been the one thing defining you for so long.

Worlds collide when your lips touch, his chapped ones clinging onto every inch he could taste. It felt different -- entirely whole and innocent. Like playground lovers learning what intimacy felt like for the first time.

“I wanted to wait before I could let myself love you.” Jeonghan tells you after, lying in bed as he once again, threads his slender fingers through your hair. “To pull myself into some semblance of a man, a man that deserved to love you. Who could.”

You stared into his eyes, knowing he wasn’t finished talking.

“Tell me.” You whispered. “Let me in your head.”

But the grace period his grief had given him was gone.

“I love you.” Is all he says, turning over to pull the sheets closer around him. “Remember that.”

You would look back, and recall how it felt as if he was trying to remember it himself.

Breathe deep.

It was only decades later did Jeonghan finish his thoughts, the same ones he had begun when the two of you were still bumbling adults, stumbling through life with your hands outstretched.

“I was jealous.” He voices out one day, a seemingly unimportant wednesday evening. He sits on the rocking chair with his cup of tea, an old woolen blanket tucked over his lap. His reading glasses lie delicately on his nose as he looks at you.

At first you don’t understand. “What?” Perhaps you hadn’t heard him correctly, your hearing had been worsening with age.

“Back then,” Jeonghan continues. “When we were still in our twenties. I was jealous of how brightly you shined. You could walk into a room and light it up like a beacon.” He laughed, his body shaking with energy. “You woke me up better than any medicine could. I was this- dark ball of hatred and grief and uncertainty towards the world-”

Jeonghan had changed over the years since then. Marriage, kids, and growing old had changed him. Falling in love with you had changed him entirely.

“You were my buoy.” He says definitively. “And I’m sorry that it took me nearly ten years to realize that I needed you. Loved you.”

It felt like another lifetime.

Reaching over from your own chair, you took his hand in yours -- his fingers no longer perfect but still just as slender. “That was eons ago, my love. And we have spent much more than ten years together.”

Breathe.

#svthub #seventeen imagines #svt #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen event #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan

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nayeonara · 2 days ago

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could you do a thanos squid game fic, where the reader dislikes him/rejects him: but he's so delusional - convinced she's just playing hard to get

HARD TO GET ! ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

pairings: thanos / choi su-bong x fem!reader

summary: where rejection just simply seems to fuel his delusions into believing you’re playing hard to get.

CW: kissing, thanos being thanos, the word ‘señorita’ used several times.

word count: 0.8K

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The air is thick with tension as you stand among the crowd, heart pounding in sync with the eerie lullaby playing over the speakers. The massive mechanical doll at the far end of the field turns its head with a slow, deliberate click, its eyes scanning for the slightest movement. You barely have time to process the rules of the game when a towering presence shifts beside you, a tall man who appeared to be an ex-rapper considering his unique purple hair. He looks down at you with a wide smirk on his face “be careful señorita, you’ll end up dead if move a single muscle” he laughs at you. You draw back as you hear him refer to you as señorita.

However, he had supported you throughout the deadly game despite taking his pills. You still disliked him though, seeming as he was crazed and would constantly harass innocent people. Although to Thanos, this was a way of showing off his strength and dominance. “Say señorita, we would make an awesome couple ya know” He says with cockiness in his voice that was undeniably aggravating. “I dont think so” You try to laugh off in order to still be polite even though you meant every single word. “Why not?” He responds with confusion as if you’ve just rejected the most handsome prize you could get in there despite the money. “I.. just don’t really.. see you that way” You tried to say it lighthearted, because you knew what Thanos was capable of. And you really didn’t want to be on his bad side.

He chuckles. “Ah i understand now. You’re just playing hard to get with me” He says with confidence. “But don’t you worry señorita, i’ll break your wall down with ease” He delusionaly walks away, plotting his future advances so that he would make you his girl. You’re tense after that, knowing he wouldn’t put a stop to his nonstop flirting. You try your hardest to push past your thoughts as you eventually succumb to a somewhat peaceful slumber in those tacky old beds the organisers of the game supplied you all with.

It had been a day now, your team and thanos just survived the six-legged race game, which left you paranoid as he was just messing around the full time, not caring that your lives were put at stake. This angered you alot more now, you were about done with his foolish acts and excused yourself to the team to leave for the bathrooms to calm yourself down. Thanos saw this as a gold opportunity to try and win over your ‘hard to get’ act, as he was so convinced you were crazy about him. He also excused himself and sneakily followed you towards the female bathrooms. You stand beside the sink, washing your face with the ice-cold water until you hear an opening of the door. At first you had just assumed it would be another female wanting to use the restroom, but thats when you hear it. His deep and playful voice calling out your name.

“Thanos, what the hell are you doing he-“ He cuts off your whisper shouting as he muffles your voice with one of his strong hands. “Chill out señorita, we finally have time for ourselves yeah?” He asked as if it was some casual thing between us. you look up at him nervously, afraid of what he would do. He locks eyes with you for a moment then looks down towards your heart-shaped lips. He leans over in one swift motion, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones. You wanted him to stop, you wanted to tell him that he was wrong about you. That you didn’t feel anything towards him. Although you would be lying to yourself if you said that his lips smashed against yours didn’t feel good.

As he continued to press down on you, he began tracing his hands around your body, you felt yourself slowly giving in to the passionate kiss. Although it started getting rougher by the second and you felt like you were getting weaker through his touch. He pulls away for a minute, “Come on, you cant deny you like this, that you like me, my señorita” He grins before quickly reconnecting your lips. Now it was you who pulled away, “What makes you so sure of that?” He just stares at you for a good couple seconds, “You say you dont like me but your body seems to speak for itself baby” And he was right. Even though you didn’t like him, your body was so rapid to give in to him. You felt yourself get so confused with your own emotions within this moment. “Doesn’t mean i like you though” you spoke through gritted teeth. “Sure you don’t” He smugly said before leaving you unaccompanied in the bathroom.

You were now just stood there, drowning in many thoughts and wondering how you were gonna get thanos to leave you alone now that you humiliated yourself, by actually somehow enjoying the encounter you both shared.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

authors note: thank you for the request! im so sorry that its a bit short 😭 i think i made him a bit ooc.. but oh well

#squid game #squid game x reader #thanos #thanos squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong #player 230 #squid game 2 #nayeonara

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 13 hours ago

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Crash Into Me

Summary: A snow storm is coming down hard and the reader is attempting to clear the driveway of snow before Dean gets home from a long shift. But one wrong move can change their whole night...

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, head injury/body injuries, mention of car accident

A/N: Fun fact, this story takes place in the same world as one of my previous fics. We'll see if anyone can figure it out 😉

_________

You were panting by the time you’d made your third pass down the driveway with the shovel. Shit, you should have gotten the snowblower out. The snow had looked light but it was wet and heavy underneath, too heavy to push effectively. Plus it was coming down hard, the wind whipping more and more. Dean was due home in less than twenty minutes and you needed to clear it out if he wanted a chance of getting his truck in the drive.

Alright, you’d get the thing out of the back and clear off some room before it got too high.

Not two steps towards the garage, you felt your boot slip on some black ice and you stumbled backwards, cold hitting your back the last thing you registered before it all went black.

With a silent groan, you fluttered open your eyes, finding yourself staring up at the roof of Dean’s truck.

“Oh that’s not good,” you muttered, finding one of Dean’s hands touching your hand, his fiery hot in it.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” You winced as you sat up, finding Dean turned back in the drivers seat, watching you carefully. “Take it easy. You have a concussion. You were out about sixty seconds from what I could tell.”

“What joy,” you grumbled, holding a hand to the back of your head and hissing. He squeezed your other hand, your gaze locking onto his. “S��just a bump-”

“I was just pulling up the road when I saw you go down and you were lights out. We’re going to the hospital.” You opened your mouth to argue but he growled. “Do you remember that massive car accident you were in eight years ago? How your doctor, me, told you to take any head injuries seriously? Hm?”

“Fine, we’ll go,” you sighed.

“That’s my stubborn girl,” he said, letting go of your hand when you hit an icy patch on the road. “We’ll need to take it slow. Let me know if-”

“Yes, Dr. Winchester,” you said dramatically, feeling an ache in your side you hadn’t before from the adrenaline coursing through you. It was quiet in the truck as Dean drove back to work. The roads were a mess and it was coming down even harder. You weren’t exactly expecting to get out of there quickly but you knew you’d have to wait for a break in the weather before Dean would be able to get back on the road again.

“There we go,” said Dean as he barely drove into the employee parking garage, your eyes darting out the window to see a pair of nurses and a doctor with a stretcher waiting by the elevator. Again, you wanted to argue you were fine to walk but your side was really starting to hurt and you had a feeling you’d bruised the ribs you broke in your accident years ago.

“Well if it ain’t my favorite Winchester,” said Benny, opening the back door for you.

“Hey, Ben,” you said, slipping out of the car before anyone could stop you. You sat down on the stretcher, Benny nodding to the nurses.

“I’ll be down in the ER in two minutes, sweetheart,” said Dean as you waved him off.

“I got her, worry wart,” said Benny, shutting the door for you, wrapping his white coat around himself as he trailed after you on the stretcher. It was much warmer in the elevator, Benny shaking the cold off and cocking his head at you suspiciously. “So. How bad does it hurt?”

“My head,” you said quietly. You pointed to your ribs and right hip. “This whole side aches. It feels like when I broke my ribs.”

“Alright. We’ll get you taken care of. Hopefully it’s just a bad bruise.” You tried to relax on the way downstairs, Benny getting you in a room off of the ER where the less intense cases were evaluated. After only a slight argument, you convinced him that you could take off your clothes on your own. You weren’t about to let them cut through your brand new winter jacket.

By the time you were down to your bra and underwear, Dean was walking inside, pouting as he noticed the deep bruises on your skin over some of your old scars.

“You are going to go stand in that corner and let me work,” Benny said to him as he and the two nurses gently rolled you to your side to examine your back. “Alright, we’ll take you for x-rays but my gut says bruised ribs is all. Your concussion is more concerning to me considering your previous accident.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, Benny shining a light in your eyes.

“Just means I want to have you observed for a bit. We’ll do a quick MRI but I’m guessing you’re perfectly fine. Just a little concussion,” said Benny as the doors to the room burst open. Your gaze shot over, Benny still checking your jaw as Dean glanced at the nurse in dark blue scrubs by the door.

“Dr. Winchester! ER 3 needs a surgeon and Dr. Zacariah just busted his ankle in the lobby on some melted snow.”

“Go,” you said to Dean his body already moving after her but his gaze on you. “Now, Dean.”

“Benny, you make sure she’s fine!” shouted Dean on his way out, loud footsteps echoing down the hall. Benny smirked when he was gone, feeling the goose egg at the back of your head.

“Little shit forgets I graduated ahead of him in med school,” he chuckled, running a hand over your head when he finished. “Okay. Everything looks minor. We’ll run some tests and get you admitted upstairs. Kline.”

“Yes, doctor?” asked the young nurse that’d been in with you. Benny hummed.

“Put Mrs. Winchester at the front of the line for MRI and x-rays behind non-critical patients. Stay with her for the night. I have a feeling with the weather, Dr. Winchester is going to be working awhile.”

“You should go help, Benny,” you said, nodding towards the door. “It’s icy out and I’m sure you’ll have way worse cases than mine to deal with. Go on.”

“Watch her,” said Benny to Kline as sirens sounded outside again. He took off with the other nurse, leaving you alone with the young man.

“So,” you said, sitting up with a wince. “Let’s get me taken care of so you can get back to helping people.”

“I’m sorry ma'am, but I’m not about to piss off some of the most important doctors in the hospital,” he said. “Let me get you on the schedule so we can get you somewhere quieter.”

Six Hours Later

“Hey, Y/N,” said Garth. You popped your head up from your book in the surgical staff lounge and gave him a smile. “Heard you took a fall. How you feeling?”

“Oh, they discharged me a few hours ago. A few bruised ribs and a minor concussion. I heard there was a huge pile up on the highway so I told them to give my bed to someone who needs it.”

“Which only happened because I offered to watch her outside of a room,” said Jack, who was working on charts at a table nearby. “Sorry for working in here. I know non-surgical staff aren’t allowed.”

“No worries, kiddo,” said Garth, going to the coffee machine and pouring a large cup. “I need to take a lunch. Why don’t you head on back to the ER? I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thanks,” he said, gathering his tablet and notepad. “I’ll be back in awhile.”

You gave him a wave, Garth taking his seat when he was gone. He stretched in his chair, closing his eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not in surgery.”

“I was the past sixteen hours. Need some food and a few hours of sleep,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “Surprised Dean’s still on his feet. Didn’t he just work a double?”

“Triple,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your head, the swelling gone down thankfully. “He was only meant to do 8 hours and that turned into 24 when Dr. Alastair got sick so Dean covered his shift and then there was an accident. He never even made it into the house.”

“Good news is I’m pretty sure his surgery is wrapping up. Bad news is with the storm not everyone can make it in for their shifts.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you asked. Garth raised an eyebrow. “Come on. We both know I don’t need a babysitter or Benny wouldn’t have discharged me. I’m a little tired and have a headache and can’t lift anything but I can do something I’m sure. I mean I’m stuck here until this storm is over too. I know how much it sucks to be stuck in the hospital.”

“Let me talk to the floor nurse, see if we can find something.”

Two Hours Later

You grinned when Dean wandered into the ICU in a pair of clean scrubs. His green eyes were barely open but he was smiling when he found you coloring with a young girl who’d been in an accident with her mom.

“Dr. Winchester,” said the woman in bed quietly, Dean giving her hand a squeeze.

“I’m surprised you remember me from the ER,” he said, eyes settling on the young girl. “You taking care of your mom for me?”

She hummed, going back to her coloring as you stood slowly. “I told Darcy about how good a doctor you are from my own personal experience.”

“Ah, well, you weren’t in quite as bad of shape,” said Dean, glancing at the monitors for a moment. “Dr. Mills told me your surgery went well. Hopefully we can get you moved out of ICU in a few hours and home in a few days. Mind if I borrow, Y/N?”

“Take her. And thank you again for keeping an eye on my daughter,” she said.

“Anytime,” you said, Dean tucking you under his shoulders before escorting you out. He hummed, gently tapping the side of your head when you reached the elevators. “Listen. I know you wanted me to stay here and coloring isn’t that strenuous, I promise.”

“Ribs. Concussion. Hip-”

“Dean, I’m fine-”

“Thigh. Ass,” he smirked, gently rubbing your side. “That was a hard fucking fall and you need to rest.”

“I did! I promise,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“Always were a stubborn patient,” he said, the doors nearly closing when you spotted Gabe sneak inside. He gave you two a look, pretending to gag. “This is why you’re single.”

“By choice,” he said, holding up a finger. “And I’m getting the hell out of this building before I get pulled into another disaster. You two want a lift home on account of the head trauma and you looking like death warmed over?”

Dean flipped him off as you pushed his hand down. “Thank you Gabe, we appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

Approximately nine hours after Dean was meant to get home, you and Dean trudged inside the house, leaving the snow in the driveway to be dealt with later. You were hungry and sore and less than a minute inside, you were under the covers in bed, Dean crawling in beside you.

“Wake me up if you feel nauseous or your head hurts more or-” You pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him into closing his eyes. “Bossy.”

“Sleep-deprived,” you said, pecking a kiss on his lips that he was too exhausted to return. “I promise you can dote on me when we wake up as much as you want. I won’t even complain that much.”

“You better not,” he mumbled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dean.”

_____________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #doctor!dean x reader #doctor!dean winchester x reader

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rafeysbangs · 2 days ago

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lachesism , rafe cameron ( series ) 08

pairing ; brother's!bsf!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, underage drinking, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

✺ navigation ; 007. 008. 009.

EIGHT, hidden heat.

YOU HADN'T SEEN RAFE IN A DAY.

you'd walked home alone after the kiss, your head spinning with questions and confusion. everything felt tangled, like a thread you couldn't quite unravel.

rafe had treated you like shit for two years, relentless teasing, cutting remarks, and a coldness you couldn't make sense of. you couldn't even pinpoint when exactly it had started, just that it had blindsided you, leaving you annoyed and secretly hurt. you used to lie awake, wondering what you'd done to deserve it. now, after what he'd said, it all made sense.

but that didn't make it okay.

he'd been horrible to you because he liked you? because he couldn't handle his feelings? the whole thing made your blood boil. how selfish could he be?

you sat on the back porch, earbuds in, music playing low as you painted your toenails. the summer heat pressed down on you, thick and heavy, matching the weight of your thoughts. you focused on the brush in your hand, trying to keep cool, trying not to let your anger take over completely.

"hey," carter's voice cut through your music as he stepped outside.

you pulled out one earbud and glanced up. "yeah?"

"topper, kelce, and ruthie are coming over in a bit. you should get cora to come too," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "we're just gonna hang out, drink a little. it's gonna be hot as hell today."

you nodded, forcing a small smile. "sure, sounds good." you pulled out your phone and sent cora a quick text.

carter was already halfway back inside when you called after him, "is rafe still around?"

he glanced over his shoulder with a shrug. "yeah, somewhere." then he disappeared into the house.

you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. of course he was still here. you'd been dreading the moment you'd have to face each other again, and now it seemed inevitable.

you stared down at your half-painted toes, exhaling slowly. "great," you muttered to yourself, the word dripping with sarcasm. the impossible confrontation was just around the corner, whether you were ready for it or not.

you exhaled sharply, setting the tiny brush back into the bottle of polish with a deliberate slowness, your mind churning. confronting rafe felt like trying to unravel a storm- messy, unpredictable, and exhausting. you weren't ready to see him yet, but it seemed the universe had other plans. you glanced out at the yard, the heat shimmering over the lawn, wishing it would all melt away, including your feelings.

cora replied to your text almost immediately, promising to head over soon. you forced a smile at your phone and stood up, inspecting your freshly painted toes. you couldn't sit here and stew in your thoughts forever.

the sound of carter laughing inside carried through the open door, and you caught snippets of his voice mingled with another- deeper, unmistakable. rafe. your stomach twisted.

you grabbed the half-empty polish bottle and made your way inside, hoping to slip past unnoticed. the kitchen was alive with the faint clinking of glasses and carter rummaging through the fridge. rafe leaned against the counter, his broad frame backlit by the sunlight streaming through the window. he wasn't wearing a shirt - again - just gym shorts slung low on his hips. you faltered for a moment, your heart betraying you with its sudden, uneven rhythm.

he noticed you immediately. his gaze flickering to you as you crossed the room, and you tried not to notice how his expression softened just slightly. "hey," he said, his voice low and hesitant.

you didn't meet his eyes. "hi," you murmured, opening a cupboard and pretending to look for something.

carter, oblivious, turned around holding a case of beers. "tossing these in the cooler. topper should be here in twenty." he breezed past them, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

the silence left in his wake was deafening. you could feel rafe watching you, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore.

"are we just... not gonna talk about it?" his voice broke through the quiet.

you turned around slowly, your arms crossed. "what's there to talk about, rafe?"

he straightened, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "don't do that. don't act like nothing happened."

"fine," you said, leaning back against the counter, your voice sharper than you intended. "what do you want me to say? that i'm not angry? that i don't feel completely blindsided by the fact you've spent years treating me like shit because you have a thing for me? because, honestly, rafe, i don't even know where to start with that."

he winced but didn't back down. "i know i fucked up, okay? i know i don't deserve... any of this." he gestured vaguely toward you, his voice tight. "but i told you because i couldn't keep pretending i didn't feel the way i do."

your chest tightened. you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how unfair it was, but the words stuck in your throat. "you could've handled it differently," you said quietly, your anger ebbing into something softer, more painful. "you didn't have to be so cruel."

rafe stepped closer, his hand brushing the edge of the counter. "i know." he paused, his voice faltering.

you glanced at him then, really looked at him. his blue eyes were clouded with guilt, his shoulders tense like he was bracing for impact. he looked so unsure, so unlike the cocky, self-assured rafe you were used to. it threw you off balance.

before you could respond, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway broke the moment. voices carried through the open window; topper, kelce, and ruthie, loud and boisterous as ever.

you pushed off the counter and walked toward the back door, needing air, needing space. "we're not done with this," you said over your shoulder, your voice steadier than you felt.

rafe didn't follow you. he just stood there, watching you go, the weight of everything unsaid lingering between them.

you darted upstairs, your heart pounding with a strange mix of nerves and defiance. you rummaged through your drawers, pulling out a bikini. if you were going to spend the day dealing with ruthie's little comments and rafe's confusing intensity, you'd do it on your terms. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out quickly before slicking on a layer of sunscreen and then lip balm.

your phone buzzed. cora was two minutes away. thank god. you let out a small sigh of relief, grabbed your sunglasses, and headed downstairs to meet the chaos.

the kitchen was a flurry of voices and movement when you walked in. topper and kelce greeted you enthusiastically, topper pulling you into a quick hug while kelce gave you a fist bump. ruthie hovered nearby, offering a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach your eyes before trailing after topper like a shadow. you bit back an eye roll.

the group made their way down to the pool, arms full of coolers, towels, and cups. the sun blazed overhead, casting sharp, golden light over everything. you were halfway to setting up your spot when rafe came strolling down behind carter, carrying two cases of beer on each arm like it was nothing. his swim trunks hung low on his hips—too low—and he wore a grin that was equal parts cocky and carefree. your breath hitched for half a second, though you quickly busied yourself with unpacking your things.

cora arrived moments later, saving you from spiralling into your own head. "finally," you said, pulling your best friend into a hug.

"always here," cora replied with a grin, holding up a tote bag filled with sunscreen, snacks, and what looked like an entire bottle of tequila.

you claimed a couple of loungers near the pool's edge, chatting as you set your stuff down. you slipped off your cover-up, feeling the sun warm your skin instantly. you slid your legs into the water, the coolness a welcome contrast to the heat, and leaned back on your hands as you let yourself relax, at least a little.

your gaze flicked toward rafe before you could stop it. he was across the pool, standing near the cooler, and his eyes were already on you. but this time, he didn't look away. he didn't even try to hide it. his gaze was piercing, unwavering, and undeniably bold, the hint of a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. your stomach did a strange flip, but you quickly forced your focus back to cora, who was already cracking jokes about ruthie's extravagant poolside outfit.

soon, everyone settled into the rhythm of the afternoon. the speaker pumped out upbeat music, beers were cracked open, and laughter echoed around the pool. topper and kelce started an overly competitive game of pool volleyball, and ruthie made a show of lounging on a float, her perfectly manicured hand trailing lazily through the water.

you stayed on the edge with cora, chatting and occasionally letting your feet splash in the pool. but every now and then, you could feel it, rafe's gaze on you like a magnet. it wasn't just the usual glance or fleeting look; it was charged, intentional, like he was daring you to acknowledge it.

you refused to give him the satisfaction, at least not yet. instead, you turned to cora, a grin playing on your lips. "so, tequila shots by the pool later?"

"is that even a question?" cora shot back, raising her sunglasses with a smirk.

you laughed, the sound light and unbothered, even as you felt the weight of rafe's attention lingering like the heat in the air.

the afternoon unfolded lazily, the sun beating down as the group alternated between the pool and the loungers. topper and kelce's volleyball game turned into a chaotic mess of rules no one followed, ruthie kept taking dramatic selfies with the pool in the background, and cora made sure your drink was never empty.

you did your best to relax, to let yourself melt into the carefree energy around you. but it was hard, especially when rafe kept finding ways to pull your attention. a joke tossed too loudly, his laughter cutting through the music, the way he casually leaned against the pool's edge when he wasn't in the water, his sharp gaze finding you through the crowd. it was infuriating.

cora noticed too, leaning close to murmur, "why does rafe keep staring at you?"

you rolled her eyes, pretending not to care. "he's just... being rafe."

cora snorted. "rafe doesn't just look at people like that. he's trying to get your attention."

"well, it's working," you muttered, taking a long sip of your drink.

not long after, rafe made his move. the volleyball game had dissolved completely, and most of the group was lounging in or around the pool. you were sitting on the edge, your feet still dangling in the water, when he swam up to you.

"you're awfully quiet," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you glanced down at him, your expression neutral. "maybe i just don't have anything to say."

he rested his arms on the edge of the pool, looking up at you with that maddening, unreadable expression. "you always have something to say."

your lips pressed into a thin line. "not to you."

his smirk faltered, but only for a second. "still mad, huh?"

"mm, you think?" you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

rafe sighed, leaning his forehead against his arm for a moment before looking back up at you. "whatever. i'm trying to be better."

"trying?" you scoffed, pulling your legs out of the water and standing. "trying would've been not treating me like shit for two years. trying would've been telling me the truth before-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head. "forget it."

then cora called out from the pool, "tequila shot time!"

you tore your gaze away from rafe, your pulse racing. "coming!" you called back.

rafe's eyes stayed on you as you walked away.

you sauntered over to where cora stood, your best friend holding out a shot glass with a mischievous grin. your own smile widened as your fingers brushed in the exchange. "cheers," cora said, her voice light and teasing, and you nodded before you both tipped their heads back in unison. the burn of the liquor was sharp and immediate, but you barely flinched, laughing as you set the empty glasses on the table.

the evening had taken on a golden glow, the fairy lights strung above the pool casting soft halos over everything. the music was louder now, bass thumping in time with the pulse in your temples. laughter echoed through the backyard, a mix of drunken banter and the occasional off-key singing. you had lost count of how many drinks you'd had, the edges of your world blurring pleasantly as you sank into one of the lounge chairs, tilting your head back to let the breeze cool your flushed skin.

cora was off giggling with kelce and carter, their voices floating across the yard, while topper and ruthie bickered yet again, their argument punctuated by topper's exaggerated sighs and ruthie's pointed glares. you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head at their endless drama.

after a moment, you stood, the ground beneath your feet feeling just a little unsteady. the thought of water tugged at you like a lifeline, and you nodded to yourself, mumbling something incoherent as you made your way back toward the house. the warmth of the night followed you inside, the air cooler in the kitchen but still heavy with the scent of sunscreen and spilled beer.

you poured yourself a glass of water, the cold liquid a welcome relief against your palm. lifting it to your lips, you turned, only to feel an unmistakable presence close behind you.

rafe.

you froze for half a second before meeting his eyes, his grin lazy and self-assured. he looked impossibly relaxed, leaning against the counter like he hadn't a care in the world. but there was something about the way he was watching you, intense, piercing, that made your pulse quicken.

"thirsty?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"clearly," you replied, taking a sip to steady yourself. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you refused to let it show.

his hands found your arms, fingertips grazing lightly over your skin as he stepped closer. his touch sent a shiver racing down your spine despite the heat.

"you're trouble," you said softly, unable to stop the small giggle that escaped your lips. you hated how easily he got to you, how effortlessly he unraveled the walls you tried so hard to keep up.

"maybe," he said, his breath warm and tinged with the strong scent of alcohol.

you tried to summon some kind of retort, something to wipe that smug grin off his face, but your thoughts scattered the moment his eyes dropped to your lips. suddenly, the glass in your hand felt too heavy, the space between them too small.

and yet, you didn't move away.

you leaned back against the counter, clutching the cool glass of water in your hand as rafe stepped closer, his presence almost magnetic. his grin was lopsided, a mix of mischief and something softer, more vulnerable, that made your stomach flip.

"you're avoiding me," he said, his voice low and teasing, though his eyes searched yours like he was looking for something you weren't sure you could give.

"maybe i am," you said lightly, your lips curling into a small smirk. the alcohol in your system giving you the courage to challenge him, even as your heart thudded against your ribs.

his hands slid up your arms, slow and deliberate, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. "you're not very good at it," he murmured.

you laughed softly, shaking your head. "you're annoying."

he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his voice dropping even lower. "yeah, but you like it."

your breath hitched, and you took a step back, needing the space to think clearly, though the counter at her back kept you trapped. "you're drunk," you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

he tilted his head, studying you. "so are you."

you bit your lip, trying to find the right words, but they felt tangled in your chest. "what do you want, rafe?"

his grin faltered, replaced by something deeper, something raw. "you," he said simply, the word heavy with meaning.

the room felt impossibly small, the air thick between them. your pulse thundered in your ears, and you couldn't look away from him, couldn't ignore the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

"you make it sound so simple," you whispered.

he laughed softly, the sound almost bitter.

your fingers tightened around the glass, your resolve wavering. you wanted to let yourself believe him, to believe that he could be better, that you could be something. but the weight of the past still lingered, tugging at the edges of your mind.

"rafe..." your voice cracked, and you hated how uncertain you sounded.

he stepped even closer, his hands settling on the counter on either side of you, boxing you in without touching you. "tell me to back off, and i will. i swear. but if you want me to stop, you have to mean it."

you stared at him, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat. every part of you screamed at you to push him away, to protect yourself from the storm that was rafe cameron. but you couldn't. you didn't want to.

instead, you set the glass down on the counter, your movements deliberate. your gaze locked with his, and you leaned up just enough to press your lips to his, slow and certain.

the kiss was nothing like the first. it wasn't hurried or impulsive. it was deliberate, a choice. your hands slid up his chest, and he groaned softly against your mouth, his hands finding your waist like they belonged there.

for a moment, the world melted away. there was no past, no pain, no anger, just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet chaos of your emotions.

you kept waiting for him to pull away, or you to, but you didn't. the kisses were getting more intense, more hungry. you couldn't help how your arms clung around his neck, how his hands fit so perfectly at the small of your back.

soon you were turning around, walking side ways up the stairs as you grasped onto each other, as if you'd let go, you'd never touch again. you suddenly had nothing else in your head, only rafe. rafe. rafe.

you pulled away as you both fell back onto something, your bed, you were in your room. you were kissing rafe cameron, in your bedroom, on your bed. you kicked the door closed and pressed your lips against his again.

his weight steady but not overwhelming. the room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the warm glow of the fairy lights strung up around your window and the salt lamp on your bedside. your heart was racing, your breath catching in your throat as his lips moved against your, deliberate yet full of hunger. his hand slid up your side, fingers brushing the bottom of your bikini top as if asking for silent permission.

your hands tangled in his hair as he pressed closer, your body responding instinctively to his. it was a strange thing, this mix of familiarity and newness; years of knowing each other, clashing and caring, culminating in this uncharted territory.

when his hands slipped under your bikini top, you arched into him. his skin was warm, the faint scent of salt and summer clinging to him. he let out a soft groan as your hands ran down his chest, your touch light but full of purpose.

"you drive me insane, you know that?" he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

your bikini top flew to the floor, and he paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over you like you were something sacred. it made your heart ache in the best way, the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

things escalated naturally, their movements full of a delicate, shared urgency. your bottoms joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

"don't worry, i'm on birth control" you interrupted gently, your voice steady. your lips brushed his, and your words came out in a tense whisper.

something about those words made him lose any remaining control. his kisses deepened, his hands roamed with a newfound confidence, and together, you fell into the moment, letting everything else fade away.

"you're fuckin' killing me right now." he groaned, taking one of your tits in his hand again. you arched into him, reaching to palm him through his pants. resting his head in the curve of your neck, rafe licked over your nipple, his tongue running over the sensitive spot of your flesh. you moaned, the sound making his cock stir.

you continued stroking him through his pants, his lips finding yours before he slipped his freehand down her body. you whimpered before you felt his middle and ring fingers dip between your folds. "fuckk, you're soaked.." he grazed her clit, your body jolting in pure pleasure.

rafe slid his fingers down to your entrance, before gliding his them back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, admiring the way your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, your lips wet with his spit.

despite his fingers working on you mercilessly, you felt so bare, wanting nothing more than to feel the stretch of his cock. "rafe. i want you inside of me." you looked deeply at him, "please fuck me." grunting at your words, rafe gave you a nod.

rafe moved them backward, sat up against your headboard before pulling you back down on his lap. you kissed him, grinding on his cock. rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up as you reached down and lined him up with your entrance. making sure you were looking at his face, rafe lowered you slowly, both of you moaning as you sunk down on his length.

you felt so warm and tight wrapped around him, both of you shuddering once he filled you completely. "fuck, rafe you're so big" you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

"look at me," he suddenly said, you breathed deeply but locked your gaze on his. "you're mine now, okay? you're mine." his possessive tone made you shudder, you nearly doubled over from the pleasure.

"look, i need you to know that i'm sorry about the way i treated you before. because the way i'm gonna fuck you? you just might forget." she was about to question what he meant when he wrapped his arms around you tightly and started thrusting into you from below, your lips parting as a yell ripped itself from your throat.

"oh my, fuck!" you cried, rafe smirked to himself. "the dick that good?" you buried your face in his chest, biting down on your bottom lip as his pelvis smacked the bottoms of your ass.

rafe was brutal, his tip kissing your cervix every so often as he moved his hips. "ugh fuck, your dick is so good" you cried, holding onto him tightly. he groaned and gazed up at you. he continued like this, leaving open mouth kisses along your shoulder.

he then laid you down, throwing each leg over his shoulder before slamming back into you again. with rafe pounding into you like nothing could stop him, and his fingers now rubbing your clit, it wasn't long before you were a whining mess, both you and rafe kissing as your orgasm hit you, stealing your breath away. rafe came twice, then doubling over.

when it was over, you lay tangled together, heaving.

rafe chuckled, pulling you closer without a word.

your heart was still racing, trying to steady your breathing and your thoughts. you couldn't believe what had just happened, and where. the faint thump of music from the pool below felt like a distant echo of reality, pulling you back to the present. your cheeks burned as the realisation hit: carter could never know. ever.

you glanced over at rafe, who was now sitting on the edge of your bed, his tousled hair falling over his forehead, his trademark smirk firmly in place. he was entirely too pleased with himself.

"he'll murder both of us," you whispered, covering her mouth as if that would somehow muffle the guilt clawing at your chest. you quickly grabbed your bikini top and started putting it back on.

rafe rolled his eyes, leaning back lazily like this was all some big joke. "please. i could take carter in a fight."

you shot him a glare, standing up and hastily adjusting your bikini straps. "this isn't about who can fight who, rafe. this is about me not wanting to live through the fallout of carter finding out his best friend and sister-" you gestured vaguely between them, "-did... whatever this is."

his smirk only widened, his eyes darkening as he looked you up and down. "whatever this is?" he repeated, his voice dripping with mischief. "sounds like you're already trying to forget it."

you groaned, grabbing a scrunchie from your nightstand to tie your hair back. "i don't have time for your ego right now. i need to pee, and you need to act like you were doing something that wasn't me."

rafe chuckled, standing and stretching leisurely as if the weight of their secret hadn't hit him yet. "fine. but for the record, i'm going to miss the view." he threw you one last mischievous grin before heading into the guest room across the hall, muttering something about packing his things.

you rolled your eyes and pulled your bikini bottoms up, muttering curses under your breath as you headed into the bathroom. you turned the lock, stared at your reflection for a long moment, and exhaled. "what the fuck just happened?" you whispered to yourself, splashing cold water on your face.

when you emerged a few minutes later, freshly composed, cora's voice drifted up from the hallway. you froze for a second, quickly throwing on your most nonchalant expression.

cora and carter appeared outside your room, the latter looking mildly suspicious. "hey," cora chirped, stepping inside. "where've you been? we were looking for you."

"oh, just needed water and the bathroom," you lied smoothly, shrugging as you stumbled over a little, really selling the drunk pee lie. you were grateful cora was terrible at detecting lies because carter's eyes lingered on you for just a beat too long.

the sound of the toilet flushing across the hall made all three of them glance over. a moment later, rafe stepped out, his face annoyingly calm, like he hadn't just been breaking every bro code in existence.

"oh hey," cora said, her tone neutral but slightly puzzled.

"what were you doing?" carter asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at rafe.

"packing," rafe said easily, motioning toward the guest room. "gotta head back to tanneyhill soon, remember?"

carter didn't look entirely convinced, but his suspicion seemed to fade when he said, "well, there are s'mores out back. let's go before topper eats all the chocolate."

you forced a grin, and cora clapped her hands excitedly as they all made their way downstairs. rafe's arm brushed yours on the way, and you felt a rush of heat crawl up your neck, which you desperately tried to hide by falling into step with cora.

as you stepped back out into the warm evening, the fairy lights twinkling overhead and laughter ringing out from the poolside, you glanced over at rafe. he caught her eye for the briefest moment, his smirk subdued but still present, a secret written plainly across his face.

you looked away quickly, swallowing hard. you didn't know what you'd gotten yourself into, but one thing was clear. this was only the beginning.

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doujinshigirlai · 2 days ago

Text

Closer than ever <3

It's been a while 😭🫶🏻✨

Sypnosis: random drabble about enha confessing to y/n (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Pairing: ot7!enhypen x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers

Warnings: none!!!

Enjoy my pookies 🫶🏻✨💞

⋋⁠✿Lee Heeseung✿⁠⋌ You’re standing by the vending machine in the office break room, staring blankly at the rows of snacks, your mind too cluttered to decide on anything. The soft hum of the machine is drowned out by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“You’ve been eyeing that granola bar for the last two minutes. Is it really that good?”

You turn around to see Heeseung, his signature playful grin already tugging at his lips. You’ve known him for a few months now—he joined your department not long ago. Though your conversations have mostly been surface-level, there’s something about his relaxed confidence that always gets under your skin.

“It’s not about the granola bar,” you reply with a sigh, pressing the button for a random snack. “I’m just... distracted.”

Heeseung tilts his head, his eyes softening. “Work stress?”

“Among other things,” you admit, clutching the snack as if it’s a lifeline. You’re not sure why, but you feel a strange urge to confide in him, even though you’ve barely scratched the surface of who he is.

“Here,” he says, leaning against the vending machine. “I’ll trade you five minutes of bad jokes for a smile. Deal?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You really think your jokes are that good?”

He smirks. “I think I can make you laugh. And I’m not leaving until I do.”

True to his word, Heeseung starts spouting the cheesiest, most ridiculous puns you’ve ever heard. It’s impossible not to crack a smile, and by the end of his impromptu comedy routine, you’re laughing so hard you nearly forget why you were stressed in the first place.

“See?” he says, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Mission accomplished.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingers. “Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re not the worst company.”

“Wow,” he teases, pretending to clutch his heart. “The highest praise I’ve ever received.”

From that day on, Heeseung seems to pop up everywhere—whether it’s during lunch breaks or late nights at the office. The more you talk, the more you realize how easy it is to be around him. He has this uncanny ability to make you forget your worries, to make you feel seen.

One evening, after yet another long day, he walks you to your car. The cool breeze carries the faint scent of his cologne, and for a moment, the world feels a little less heavy.

“You know,” he says softly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I never thought I’d look forward to work so much... until I met you.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. His usual teasing tone is gone, replaced by something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Heeseung—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, his gaze meeting yours. “You make everything better. And I think... I think I want to be the person who does that for you, too.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. For once, you’re at a loss for words, but the way he looks at you—with so much hope and vulnerability—tells you all you need to know.

So you take a step closer, letting your walls crumble just a little. “You already do.”

His smile is slow, genuine, and when he takes your hand in his, it feels like the start of something you never saw coming—but everything you’ve been waiting for.

Rest of the members under the cut ✨✨✨

⋋⁠✿Park Jongseong✿⁠⋌ It starts on an ordinary Tuesday, with you standing in line at the campus coffee shop. The line is slow, and the cold draft from the door doesn’t help your mood. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, checking the time. You’re already running late.

“I’d suggest the caramel latte,” a smooth voice says behind you. You turn to see Jay, his dark eyes studying the menu as if he hasn’t memorized it already.

You know him in passing—a friend of a friend, someone who’s always in the background of your social circle but never quite in your orbit. He’s polite, even charming, but he’s always been... distant.

“I don’t think caramel’s going to fix my morning,” you reply with a sigh, crossing your arms.

Jay glances down at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No, but caffeine might.”

The barista finally calls your turn, and as you step up to order, Jay leans casually against the counter beside you. You don’t know why, but his presence is oddly calming.

“You’re not going to cut me in line, are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Relax,” he says, his tone amused. “I’m just here to keep you company.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. After you order, Jay steps forward, surprising you by paying for your drink before you can protest.

“Jay—”

“Consider it my good deed of the day,” he says, his smirk softening into something almost kind. “You look like you could use one.”

You don’t have time to argue, nor do you have time to dwell on it. But from that day on, Jay seems to be everywhere. In the library when you’re cramming for exams. At the park when you’re trying to clear your head. Always there with a witty remark or a quiet offer of help.

At first, it’s annoying. Then it’s comforting. And somewhere along the way, you stop questioning it.

One night, after an exhausting week, you find yourself sitting with Jay on a park bench, sipping on hot cocoa he insisted you needed. The stars are out, the air crisp, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this... at peace.

“You’re different than I thought,” you admit, breaking the silence.

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What’d you think I was like?”

“Arrogant. Unapproachable. Too perfect to be real.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that makes your chest tighten. “And now?”

You shrug, looking away. “Still too perfect, but... I guess I was wrong about the rest.”

When you glance back, Jay is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t realize how often I’ve thought the same about you,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches. “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, the space between you shrinking. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get closer to you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

Before you can process his words, he closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a question. Your heart races, your hands instinctively gripping the edges of your coat, but when you feel the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the world around you fades.

It’s Jay who pulls back first, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. “Too perfect now?” he murmurs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No. Just... perfect enough.”

And as he takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, you realize you don’t need coffee, or cocoa, or anything else to fix your day. Because for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.

⋋⁠✿Sim Jaeyun✿⁠⋌ The late summer evening breeze sweeps through the campus courtyard as you balance a stack of books in your arms, cursing yourself for not grabbing a bag. You’re halfway across when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Need some help there?”

You turn to see Jake, his golden hair catching the fading sunlight. He’s leaning casually against a nearby bench, his ever-present hoodie slung over one shoulder. You know Jake well enough to say hello in passing—your mutual friends ensure that your paths cross more often than not—but your interactions have always been polite, nothing more.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, adjusting the books.

Jake raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You sure about that?”

Before you can respond, he’s already stepping forward, taking the top half of the stack from your arms. His fingers graze yours briefly, and the contact sends a jolt through you that you quickly dismiss.

“Really, I was fine,” you insist, trailing after him as he starts walking toward the library.

“Clearly,” he teases, glancing over his shoulder. “You looked totally at ease, struggling not to drop an entire semester’s worth of reading.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite to it. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t need to,” Jake replies smoothly.

The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the tension between you both oddly palpable. It’s not the first time Jake’s gone out of his way to help you, but something about this moment feels different—like the weight of unspoken words is pressing down on the air around you.

When you reach the library, Jake sets the books down on a nearby table, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “There. Crisis averted.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

Jake doesn’t move, his eyes studying you like he’s debating something. Finally, he takes a step closer, the playfulness in his expression replaced by something more serious.

“You know,” he begins, his voice lower now, “you’re really bad at asking for help.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the way your heart is suddenly racing. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business,” Jake says, his tone firmer now, “because I care about you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you—like he’s been holding this in for far too long—or the fact that your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest.

“Jake...” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No, let me say this,” he insists, his voice softening. “I know we’re not close. I know I’m just that guy you see in passing, the one who cracks jokes and never seems to take anything seriously. But with you... it’s different. You make me want to be better. You make me feel like I can be more.”

You’re frozen in place, your mind racing as you try to process the sheer weight of his confession.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself I’m fine just watching from a distance,” he continues, his voice almost breaking.

“But I’m not. I’m not fine, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with emotion that it’s almost suffocating. Jake takes another step closer, his hand hovering near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the gap.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “I just... I needed you to know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Jake, I—”

But before you can finish, the librarian’s voice cuts through the air. “Excuse me, but this is a quiet zone.”

The moment shatters, and Jake pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Guess we’re causing a scene,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Yeah, we are.”

Jake looks at you for a long moment, his eyes still filled with unspoken words. “I meant what I said,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your heart in your throat and your mind spinning.

And as you watch him disappear into the stacks, you realize that whatever this is—whatever it could be—you’re not ready to let it slip through your fingers.

⋋⁠✿Park Sunghoon⁠✿⁠⋌ It’s late, and the campus quad is eerily quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching against the frosty grass. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, regretting your decision to stay in the library until closing. The dim glow of the streetlights casts long shadows, and you quicken your pace.

"Walking alone this late?” a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

You turn sharply, heart skipping a beat, only to see Sunghoon leaning casually against a nearby lamppost. His breath forms a faint mist in the cold air, and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his black coat.

“Sunghoon?” you say, your voice tinged with surprise.

He straightens up, falling into step beside you. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You’ve known Sunghoon for a while now, mostly through shared classes and mutual friends. He’s always been polite, reserved even—though his quiet confidence and striking looks have earned him more than a few admirers. Still, your interactions have always been brief, nothing that would explain why he’s here now.

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, glancing at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to walk around alone at night?".

You roll your eyes. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“Maybe,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “But now you don’t have to.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the tension between you humming like a live wire. There’s something about the way Sunghoon moves—so self-assured yet unassuming—that makes it hard to look away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you say after a while.

“Do what?”

“Play the hero,” you reply, glancing at him.

He stops walking, and you’re forced to stop too, turning to face him. His expression is unreadable, but his dark eyes hold yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“You think I’m doing this to play the hero?” he asks, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You hesitate, suddenly unsure of yourself. “I don’t know. Aren’t you?”

Sunghoon takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence is overwhelming, and you find yourself rooted to the spot.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “because I wanted to see you. Because every time I see you, it’s harder to walk away. And I’m done pretending that it’s not.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave.

“Sunghoon...” you start, but he shakes his head, silencing you.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

You don’t say anything, your mind racing, your heart pounding. And then, instead of speaking, you step closer, bridging the gap between you.

That’s all the confirmation he needs. Sunghoon leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both soft and electrifying, like the first rush of a winter storm. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your chilled skin, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air.

You smile, your heart still racing. “What took you so long?”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of relief and something deeper. “I guess I needed to know you wouldn’t push me away.”

You shake your head, your smile widening. “Not a chance.”

And as the two of you stand there under the dim streetlight, the frost on the grass glittering around you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can—or want to—turn back from.

⋋⁠✿Kim Sunoo⁠✿⁠⋌ The campus is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels unnatural. You’ve been in the library for hours, buried in notes and textbooks, your mind drifting in and out of focus. It’s been a long day, and you’re ready to head home, but as you step out of the building into the evening chill, you’re met with an unexpected sight—Sunoo, sitting on a bench under the dim light of a streetlamp, his eyes trained on the starless sky.

You stop in your tracks, unsure if you should interrupt him. You’ve never been particularly close, and yet, for some reason, you always find yourself caught in his orbit. He’s always been kind, that easy smile never far from his lips, but there’s something about him that feels distant—a warmth that’s almost unreachable.

He notices you standing there, and his expression shifts, that usual playful grin softening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, your voice breaking the silence.

Sunoo looks up, his gaze locking with yours. “More like couldn’t stop thinking,” he replies, his voice quieter than usual.

You hesitate, moving closer to the bench. “About what?”

Sunoo shifts to make room, patting the spot next to him. You sit down, careful not to let your shoulder brush his, though it feels almost impossible not to.

“It’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

You turn to face him, the tension between you thickening. You know he’s been quieter lately, as if something is weighing on his mind. There’s a softness to him now, an unspoken vulnerability that draws you in even more.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you offer gently.

Sunoo smiles faintly, shaking his head. “No, I think... I think it’s time I said it.”

You wait, your heart beginning to race as he looks down, as if trying to find the right words. His usual confidence is replaced by uncertainty, and it’s unsettling to see him like this.

“I’ve been holding back,” he starts slowly, “because I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You swallow, unsure if you want to hear what’s coming next. The air feels charged, like something big is about to happen, but you're unsure if you're ready to face it.

“I think I’ve liked you for longer than I realized,” Sunoo confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean. Scared of ruining whatever we have.”

Your breath hitches, the words sinking in deeper than you expected. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. It’s almost too much to process. Sunoo, always the cheerful and outgoing one, the guy who can make anyone laugh, is standing there—vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, looking at you earnestly. “I just... needed you to know.”

The weight of his confession presses down on you, and you can feel the tension between you like a palpable force. His eyes are wide, searching yours for a reaction, and for the first time, you realize how much you’ve been holding back as well.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

Sunoo nods, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you.”

You both sit in silence, the night growing colder around you, but you don’t move. The quiet between you now feels comfortable, as though you’ve just crossed an invisible line that neither of you can go back from.

Finally, Sunoo stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you around,” he says, his usual carefree tone returning, but there’s still a tenderness in his eyes.

You nod, watching him walk away, your heart a tangled mess of emotions. But as the silence settles in once more, you realize that his confession has changed something between you. It’s not just the words; it’s the way you feel the truth of them, how everything suddenly feels clearer, even if it’s still uncertain "I like you too!!!", you shout. He turns, grinning widely and genuinely.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of something that neither of you are ready to define yet—but both of you know will be impossible to forget.

⋋⁠✿Yang Jungwon⁠✿⁠⋌ The early morning sun casts a soft golden light across the campus as you step out of the dorm, a cup of coffee in hand to start your day. The campus is quieter than usual, the early risers having already started their routines, and the air is crisp with the promise of a new day.

As you make your way toward the main building, you spot Jungwon sitting on one of the benches by the fountain. The sunlight catches in his hair, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and for a moment, he seems completely absorbed in the world around him. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket, and his gaze is focused on the morning sky, his features soft and contemplative.

You pause for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt his peace, but then you find yourself walking toward him anyway.

"Jungwon?" You call out, voice hesitant

He blinks, looking up with a slight surprise before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. “Hey, you’re up early,” he says, his voice still carrying the remnants of sleepiness but also warmth.

You offer a small smile in return, shrugging. “Yeah, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I thought I’d grab some coffee before the rush.”

“Smart choice,” he says, patting the space beside him on the bench. “Want to sit for a bit?”

You sit down beside him, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your coffee cup. There’s a calmness in the air now, the world slowly waking up around you. And for a moment, you simply sit in silence, the sound of birds chirping and the faint rustle of leaves the only noise.

“You’ve been quiet this morning,” you remark, glancing at Jungwon, who’s still staring off into the distance.

He shifts slightly, as if he’s just now realizing how still he’s been. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he admits, his voice softer than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “About what?”

Jungwon’s gaze drifts to the ground for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. There’s a hesitation there, a vulnerability in his posture that you don’t often see.

“It’s... about us,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an honesty that you’re not used to hearing from him.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “Us?”

He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I should, probably. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but... I think it’s time I do.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Jungwon, who’s always been so composed and in control, now seems different. There’s a vulnerability to him now that makes your heart race.

"I don’t want to make things complicated,” he continues, his voice almost a whisper. “But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way. I think about you all the time, and I just... I need you to know that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Jungwon has always been the calm and collected one, the friend who makes everyone feel at ease. But this side of him, the side that’s unsure and uncertain, catches you off guard.

You turn to face him, the warmth of your coffee forgotten in your hands. “Jungwon, I—”

Before you can finish, he’s already leaning in, his eyes searching yours for a hint of whether you’re okay with this. There’s no hesitation this time, no second-guessing. Jungwon closes the gap between you, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s soft, barely there, but it holds so much meaning. A confession in the quiet of the morning, the warmth of his lips lingering even after the kiss is over.

When he pulls back, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and he looks at you with wide, uncertain eyes. “I hope that wasn’t too much,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s afraid of pushing you away.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest, and smile softly. “No, it wasn’t. It’s just... I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His expression softens, a genuine smile slowly spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, his voice filled with quiet relief.

You nod, feeling the warmth spreading through your chest. “Really.”

Jungwon lets out a breath of relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely better than I thought.”

You laugh softly, feeling the weight of the tension between you ease. “I think we’ve both been a little unsure of how to handle this, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling lightly. “But I’m glad it’s out there now.”

And as the two of you sit together on the bench, the sun rises higher in the sky, you both realize that whatever comes next, it’s the start of something new—something neither of you were expecting, but both of you are willing to embrace.

⋋⁠✿Nishimura Riki✿⁠⋌ The morning sun spills through the windows of the campus café as you sit by the large glass wall, the warmth of the light casting a soft glow over your book and coffee. You’ve been coming here a lot lately, needing a quiet escape from the chaos of classes and the constant buzz of campus life.

Today, however, something feels different. You glance up from your book as the door chimes open, and in walks Niki. His usual carefree energy is a little more subdued today, and the way his eyes scan the room before locking on you is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Niki doesn’t usually come to this café in the mornings; he’s more of an afternoon kind of person, where his energy seems boundless. But today, he steps toward your table, hesitating for a moment, like he’s trying to decide whether to say something.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual. You notice the way his eyes avoid yours for a split second, a hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor.

“Of course,” you reply, your heart inexplicably racing. You shift your things aside to make room for him, and he sits across from you, his usual grin missing, replaced by a soft, thoughtful expression.

For a few moments, there’s an awkward silence between you. You’re used to Niki being playful, always cracking jokes, always full of energy, but today, he seems almost... hesitant.

“You okay?” you ask, unable to ignore the change in his vibe.

He looks up at you, his lips curling slightly, but it’s not his usual carefree smile. It’s almost as if he’s considering something deeply before he answers. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff?” you raise an eyebrow. “What kind of stuff?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the table as he seems to lose himself in thought again. “Just... everything, I guess. People. Life.” His voice is softer now, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel the shift in the air. Niki doesn’t usually speak like this, especially about you.

“Me?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he says it makes your heart race even faster.

He nods, his gaze lifting to meet yours again. This time, it feels like he’s looking at you in a way that’s different—more intense, more meaningful. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. About how you’re always there, and how I’ve always been able to talk to you. You’re... different, you know? I think I’ve started feeling more than just the friendship thing.”

Your stomach flips, and your words get caught in your throat. You’ve always had a soft spot for Niki—his charm, his humor, his way of making everything feel effortless. But this... this confession feels like it’s pulling you into something much deeper than you expected.

“You’re telling me this now?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Niki looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s debating something in his mind. Then, he leans forward slightly, his hands folding on the table. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable.

“I know I’ve always acted like I was the one who had it all figured out,” he says, his voice quiet, but his eyes focused on you. “But the truth is... I’ve been a little scared.”

“Scared?” You lean forward, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Scared of what?”

“Scared of how much you mean to me,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Scared of how I might mess things up. I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I can’t ignore it anymore.”

The air is thick with tension now. You feel your heart beat faster, not from fear, but from something else—something electric.

“Niki, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch is enough to make your pulse spike, and your words falter as you meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he says, his voice steady but full of the emotion he’s been holding back. “I like you. More than just as a friend. And I had to tell you, even if it’s scary.”

You sit there for a moment, the world around you seeming to slow down. Niki, the guy who’s always been the center of attention, always so full of life, is now sitting in front of you, vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been feeling the same way.

You don’t need words anymore. Without thinking, you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. It’s simple, but it feels like everything you’ve been too scared to say is being communicated in this single, quiet touch.

Niki’s eyes soften, and a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. “I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same,” he admits, his voice a little breathless.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. “I think we’ve both been scared of the same thing.”

And as you sit there, hands locked together, the morning light shining through the window, you realize that this is the start of something new. Something that doesn’t need words, but something you’re both willing to explore together.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED POOKIESSSS 💞✨💞

Taglist: @fangirlingobsessed @ilovebtsomgie @ayakananodesu @leftx1imaginesrenji-yanagirebel @axxftergl0w @astro-des @han-doolsetnet @ssungiverb @itsanaaa22 @bonsai-maze @graciiwestlake @lezleeferguson-120 @sovlidago @callistomk @ottokenta @ikeulove @fredneo17 @dprvivi @emisoftly @puppymyunjae @gven-takn @whitediamond778 @leipforggy

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joeyalohadream · 14 hours ago

Text

Find the word

How it works: I search for the words prev assigned me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search for in your WIP.

Thank you @rambleonwaywardson (truly so excited to see new words from you! 💕)

My words: earth, sky, slow, luck

All from Chapter Four of Let your heart be light

Earth

It’s John’s turn to laugh at the message and he does so, trying to picture a grouchy Gale, maybe with a pout on his pillowy lips. It’d be a sight and it’s added to the list of things to look forward to. [11:04pm] John: Well, we can’t have that. [11:04pm] John: Are you in bed? [11:05pm] Buck🎄: I am. He hasn’t seen the upstairs of Gale’s little cottage yet and wonders what his bedroom is like. Filled with wooden furniture and creature comforts? Earth toned walls and soft bedding? A book on the night stand and a blanket on the foot of the bed? Is Bailey curled up on him? Have the dogs moved from their beds to his? He knows that he’ll learn all of these things with time and it sends his heart thudding along to put himself there, even just in his mind. [11:05pm] John: Snug as a bug? [11:06pm] Buck🎄: Yes, John. [11:06pm] John: Sleep tight, baby. Only good dreams allowed Dots appear and disappear for a full minute and John lets his thumb smooth over Gale’s name again.

Sky and Slow

The air is crisp and cold but the biting chill that had been in the wind since the snow blew in two days ago is not present this morning. The sun is out, shining in a cloudless sky and Gale’s having a good day. He’s sold eight trees, had two cups of coffee, one that he’d mixed with the peppermint hot chocolate Brady had greeted him with. He’d woken up to a text that John had sent just after midnight telling him he was home safe and sent a good morning message in return. Gotten back a simple ‘good morning, sunshine’ text back two hours later that had him smiling into the collar of his coat as he salted the sidewalks. And now John’s on his way again. For the fourth day in a row, John’s on his way to see him. To spend time with him and buy him a hot chocolate and maybe put one of those strong arms around him as they walk the farm and look for a tree for him to take to work. He wonders if John will notice if Gale goes intentionally slow on their search to stretch out the time. Will he kiss him hello when he gets out of his truck? Is that a thing Gale gets to have now? He hopes so.

Luck [10:59pm] Buck🎄: Think I might like dancing if it’s with you John pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes crinkling, stomach fluttering again. [11:00pm] John: I’ll start brainstorming for a good song. Gotta find the perfect one to hold you close to. [11:01pm] Buck🎄: Just google, ‘longest song in the world’. He barks out a laugh, head shaking, feeling warm inside and out because of this sweet man. He’s never been a lucky guy so how did he find him? How can he make sure he gets to keep him? [11:01pm] John: You gotta stop being so damn adorable when I’m not there to see it in person. It’s not fair [11:02pm] Buck🎄: As you wish. I’m falling asleep anyway, better let it happen. John frowns down at the message. [11:02pm] John: 😞

NO PRESSURE tagging @swifty-fox , @heretoobsessstuff , @stars-remain2 and @pinenutpbj

Your words are: heat, step, heavy, light

#tag games!#let your heart be light 🎄

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moriitis · 22 hours ago

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Head empty only sleepy morning sex with Toby -Marc

Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader.

Words; 2.6k.

Content/Warnings; unsafe sex, spitting.

this start off good, lowkey flopped toward the end.

The cold brisk air within the cabin attacked your exposed skin, settling a shiver to ripple down your spine and cause you to instinctively pull the covers closer to your frame. Wildlife stirred to life just past the very wooden walls, birds tweeting, deer calling and the occasional shuffle of perhaps a rabbit against the forest shrubbery. It was the sound of peace, the sound of comfort; a sound you never really expected to hear within the depths of these woods. Blinking away the sleep slowly, you adjusted to the light that peaked through the curtain, dust particles dancing in the rays of sunlight. It was nice to find times to relax, to feel at peace with everything despite.. everything. Your brows furrowed at the mere thought of your past, the trauma, the things you endured and frankly, it filled you with a rage that you fear no amount of blood could quench. Bawling your fists and gripping the covers, you inhaled a heavy sigh; soaking in the moment for now.

Almost on que, Toby groaned beside you softly and it was there that you slowly turned to glance at him. His back was facing you so all you could see were the scars on his back and the messy brown tuffs of hair that poked up in different ways to each other. A part of you assumed he were awake and slowly, you crept closer to wrap a singular hand under and around his torso. Toby always smelt so.. nice. A scent that reminded you a little of what home used to feel like. It was apparent by the slow rhythm of his breathing that he were still asleep, though his hand slowly reached up from under the covers to take yours within his own. His own hands so rough and yet, treated you with such delicateness. Resting your forehead against the flesh of his back, you savoured the moment until you felt him stir and quickly you pulled your head away in interest, peeking over his shoulder to glance down at him.

Toby stirred once again and then rolled over onto his back, a hand raising to brush some messy strands of his hair away from his forehead momentarily. You watched almost eagerly, curious if he were half asleep or wide awake; there was no telling with him. So you waited, remaining still and quiet as you practically watched his every move. Before you could even question whether this were weird of you to practically watch him sleep, one of his eyes creeped open to glance at you. It was apparent he'd just woken up, his face scrunched softly in disgust and eye squinting toward you as he tried to adjust to the sudden brightness that attacked him. You couldn't help but smile, pushing a hand forward to caress his brown hair.

"Are you watching me sleep?" he muttered, voice husk with sleep as he eyed you up suspiciously. You couldn't help but chuckle, caught red handed as you shrugged softly; attempting to play it off. You knew it didn't bother him because from the corner of his intact mouth there was a twitch of a smirk.

"Maybe, maybe not," you replied nonchalantly.

"How long have y-y-o-you been awake-?" he mumbled, moving his scar ridden hands up to rub his eyes; an attempt to wake himself up.

"Not long," you admitted softly, voice practically a whisper as you continued to admire him. It was there Toby groaned again, pulling the covers up and over his shoulders and now rolling onto his side to face you. His muscular arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you close to his chest. You allowed the embrace, slipping down into bed a little further so you could nestle yourself away in the confides of his chest. You never really knew it, but Toby was huge on cuddles - mostly in private though. Your hand aimlessly traced circles on the flesh of his chest, your finger occasionally grazing over a bump of a scar that decorated his abdomen.

Admittedly, you could've drifted back to sleep if it wasn't for the poking and prodding of Toby's cock on the flush of your thigh. You shifted, narrowing your brows as you slowly glanced up at him, Toby already concealing a sleepy smirk.

"You're gross," you uttered, although you were half teasing as you rested your head back on his chest. Toby could only shrug.

"What?" he replied. "I'm a m-mman, can't h-help it. Mm-mmorning wood n' all." You snorted in disbelief but you knew he spoke the truth, this happened almost every morning that it got to the point where it wasn't much of a surprise anymore. Before you could respond, his hand trailed down the flesh of your curve, appreciating every bump until the palm of his hand reached your hip. His grip was needy as he pulled you closer by your hip, his fingers ever so slightly hooking under the line of your underwear. You knew reacting would only further encourage him, so you ignored his attempts. Feeling the stiffness of his cock pressed between your stomach definitely made you feel things; reacting in a way that you rubbed your thighs together in a soft attempt to stir the urges away. Only, Toby was observant, he knew you, every noise, every move or shuffle, he knew that he did things to you in a way he couldn't comprehend and it worked in his favour really. His fingers fiddled with the hem of your underwear for a moment, tempting you and giving you a moment to consider his offer before he slowly moved his hand to the plumpness of your ass. That was something Toby could appreciate the most. His hand palmed at the skin, squeezing your cheek and caressing it like he worshipped you.

The touch became too much on your sensitive skin and it was there you let out a soft, wavered breath. It was quiet but Toby heard it as you cautiously lifted your chin to glance up at him. His eyes, once closed, were now staring down at you with such intensity that you had no time to process the eagerness of his lips pressed against yours. It was a sloppy kiss, a lazy one as his hand that once touched you so now came to rest softly on your cheek. A tender touch. Your own hands moved on their own as you felt and appreciated his muscles, moving your hand up his chest, round the tenseness of his shoulder, up the back of his neck and there ending in the tangled mess of his hair. Your fingers slid through his hair as your lips kept each other preoccupied, his tongue grazing softly against the plumpness of your lower lip.

The room suddenly become overwhelming warm, the cold that once kissed your skin now replaced with nothing but warmth, your body flush and eager within moments of the first touch. Toby was like a dog almost, he could smell your eagerness radiate off you in waves as slowly he pushed you down onto your back and climbed on top of you. The kiss had passion despite the sloppiness of it as Toby focused on placing himself between your legs, his cock brushing softly against the fabric of your underwear. It was twitching eagerly, desperate to bury itself within you. His lips continued to dance with your own as you both clung to one another eagerly, his tongue brushing against yours for a moment until he pulled away. You were left eager, craving more as you glanced up at him with a look of ecstasy. The brunette only scoffed at how pathetic you are.

"First you call me gross and n-nnow you're practically b-begging for my cock, wh-w-what gives?" he uttered, voice hoarse as he leant down to pepper kisses against your jawline. You squirmed, not just by his touch but by his words alone as your hips helplessly began to grind against his own - his cock so hard that you only wondered if it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Through embarrassment and embarrassment alone, you remained quiet; ashamed by your sudden horniness. Your silence did not satisfy Toby as he pulled his head away from the crook of your neck to give you a stern glance, his brows furrowed and those intense, brown eyes of his peeking out from under his eyelashes. Instinctively, your lips pursed as the tension was evident in the air alone, thick with desire and want.

Suddenly, he moved and his hands that were propping him up above you lifted, his thumb pressing against the skin of your lower lip. You were confused at first until he uttered the words; "open." Not being one to disobey, you allowed his thumb to pry your mouth open, holding your jaw in place as his thumb caressed two of your teeth. He admired how compliant you were, his own mouth hung agape slightly as he felt his cock stir and twitch. Without much warning, he leant over you and promptly spat in your mouth. His spit was warm as it landed on your tongue, trailing down until it reached the back of your throat. Admittedly, you were dumbfounded but there was no denying that you were turned on as he removed his thumb from your mouth, allowing you to close your mouth shut.

He then leant down, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck once again as his hand trailed down your waist, caressing your thigh. His lips peppered soft, loving kisses against the flesh of your neck and instinctively you craned your neck back to allow him more room. Your inner knees squeezed his hips as you desperately rubbed the flush of your pussy against his cock, desperate for him to rip off your underwear and take you right there and then. It seemed your desperation was nothing but amusing for Toby as you felt him chuckle against your skin, his breath hot and warm, leaving your skin prickle at the touch alone.

"Alright, alright-" he started, voice gruff as he pulled away once again to glance down at you. His own eyes were filled with lust, want and within moments his hand was lazily tugging off your underwear. You shuffled up, helping aid him as you slipped them off and tossed them onto the floor beside the bed. Toby's forehead rested on your collarbone as he tugged his cock out from his pants, too lazy to even take them off fully. Guiding his cock to your pretty little pussy, he gently rubbed the head of his cock against your opening, savouring the warmth and fighting back all temptation within him as he used your juices to wet the tip of his cock. His breath hitched in delight before he moved to gently rub his tip against your clit, wetting it with your own horniness as he gently rubbed circles on your clit. The touch relieved the throbbing on your clit and you felt yourself wiggle under his touch, aching to feel more as soft, gentle whimpers escaped past your lips. Resting your hands atop his shoulders, you squeezed softly in encouragement as your hips bucked helplessly against the touch.

Seemingly, Toby couldn't wait himself as he finally buried his cock deep within you; which earned a sudden gasp from you. You were tight and warm, a perfect combination that was almost intoxicating as Toby took a moment to steady himself and seemingly adjust. Your walls desperately hugged and cradled his cock perfectly, warm and wet and it was encouraging him to start grinding his hips up against your own. His hands moved so he were resting on his elbows each side of your head, his full weight now resting a top you as his hips lazily began to thrust. Admittedly, the sex was sloppy and his pace was slow as he tried to find a steady rhythm. His cock filled you perfectly as your back arched every so slightly, your breasts plump against his chest as you wrapped your legs around his frame, pulling him close. Your delicate moans filled the air, music to his ears as he continued to thrust steady pumps, each thrust bouncing your body against his own as your pussy gripped at his cock. It was almost like Toby's cock was made for you, the way it reached and hit every spot perfectly - enough to make you see stars as you pushed your head back into the pillow in pure bliss.

Wet and sloppy noises emerged from your cunt as Toby helplessly began to pound, one of his hands moving down to grip the underside of your thigh and lift it to further allow access for his cock. Skin met skin as his pace quickened, enough to earn more of your beautiful moans.

Occasionally he'd nip softly on the skin of your neck, taking a moment to suck and savour the taste while his hips continued to work. You felt his lips trail up your neck until he nibbled your ear softly, his breath hot against your skin as he began to honey soft words of nothings.

"You t-t-.. take my cock so well.." he would utter softly, his words heightening your ecstasy. Everything about Toby lured you in, he had you pinned and now he was fucking you helplessly and deep down you loved it dearly. As his hips continued to slap against your own, he finally moved his head to lean down to your nipple. He captured the bud between his lips, loving it tenderly as he sucked and nipped at it; giving the same treatment to the other. His movements were riling you up and as your felt your face warm, you knew you were drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Your hands moved to the brown tuffs of his hair, entangling themselves in the locks as you tugged softly in encouragement.

Your cunt tightened around his cock, enveloping it and Toby knew it would be a matter of seconds until he would cum. So, using what little energy he had left, he stirred himself to awake a little more and finally sat up. The view below was more than he could ask for, the way your tits would bounce with each thrust, the soft blush on your cheeks as your back arched. His head rolled back in delight, his other hand moving to grip your hip.

"Cum for me," he groaned, his teeth clenched and lips pursed. His words were demanding and had a sense of authority over you and as he uttered those words of approval, you came undone below him. You gasped out, helplessly moaning out as your pussy throbbed around his cock. You twitched in delight as you sat up for a moment, riding out your orgasm before slowly falling back against the softness of the pillow. Your hips bucked as Toby didn't slow, the feeling of your cunt enough to make him grunt. With not much of a care, he collapsed atop of you and finally rode out his final thrusts, his cock stirring and twitching in your pussy.

Capturing your breath, you rubbed circles on the small of Toby's back, the air ridden with the scent of sex as Toby pulled himself out of you. It was quiet, the sound of the world outside now stirring back to life. The brunette remained between your legs, not having the desire to move just yet as he caught back his breath. Your mouth felt dry as you licked your lips wet, running a hand to push some strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. The weight above you seemed you grow heavier as you glanced down at your boyfriend, who had already fallen back asleep.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader

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its-all-stardust · 2 days ago

Text

Safe

So this is kind of based on a request that I received over six months ago at this point (rip me and my writing capabilities) that I mixed with my own idea in an attempt to make it more realistic than what the request originally called for. Because I feel like I changed the core of what the person wanted, I decided not to include it here.

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader, though it's more platonic and really kind of Matt, Karen, and Foggy being buds with Reader. Sorry not sorry.

Word count: 7.1k

Summary: You love your boyfriend even though he kicked you out of your, really his, apartment. He'll let you back in soon enough. But a cold breeze and falling night don't mix with a thin T-shirt, causing you to seek warmth in an office labeled Nelson Murdock Page.

Content warning for domestic abuse/intimate partner violence. Descriptions are few and not overly detailed.

The sun was just starting to set, but you already felt the chill of the impending night air. The streets felt darker than they should, the tall buildings casting deep shadows, a false night before the true one.

It was the one thing you never liked about the city, especially since you were left wandering the streets alone, at a loss for what to do or where to go. You weren’t worried, though. Dean had done this before. Soon, you were sure, he’d call you and let you back into the apartment.

He had locked you out, something he usually did whenever you made a mistake or got into a ridiculous fight. He was within his rights to kick you out and take the key—it was his apartment, after all. He paid the rent, his name was on the lease.

Once Dean slowed down and thought things through, when he saw the situation from your perspective and understood why you thought what you did, he’d call. You would tell him you were sorry, he’d forgive you and tell you he loved you, and then the two of you would fall into bed, and all would be forgotten.

A gust of wind blew through the street, freezing you to the spot for a moment. Fall was settling in, and the nights were getting colder. Your t-shirt, lounge pants, and flip-flops didn’t provide much warmth.

But it was okay. Dean would call soon. Your phone was clutched in your hand, waiting for it to come through.

You told a friend about these fights once, and she looked more than a little perturbed. She tried telling you that if Dead actually loved you, he wouldn’t do that to you. You knew she was wrong. If Dean didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have given you your phone on the way out the door. You needed it so he could call and find you using the tracking app he set up.

New York City could be dangerous—aliens falling from the sky, vigilantes roaming the streets, people who could fly—and he didn’t want to take any chances. Even when you were fighting, Dean always made sure you weren’t hurt. It was also why you couldn’t stop walking until you found somewhere safe or until Dean called you. If your phone stopped moving for too long, Dean would worry that something had happened to you.

The wind blew again, the sun dipping even lower. It was getting colder.

Reaching up, you rub the slight bump on your forehead. Dean tried tossing you your phone, but you missed—you were never good at playing catch—and the corner smacked you above your left eye. It ached and started a headache that hadn’t let up yet.

You couldn’t wait for Dean to call so you could go home and find where he tucked away the painkillers this time. He never liked keeping things in one spot for too long.

A light in the gathering dark caught your eye. An office window, still lit hours after their normal closing time. On closer inspection, you saw their sign:

Nelson, Murdock, Page - Attorneys at Law.

It made you pause.

You didn’t need a lawyer, but maybe, since they were around anyway, they’d let you sit in their lobby for a bit. Just long enough to warm up and for Dean to call. And if Dean checked where you were, he’d know you were safe. After all, what thief could run to a lawyer after stealing a phone?

Your heart pounded nervously in your chest as you touched the door handle. You hoped they were nice, that they’d let you inside without expecting anything. Surely, they wouldn’t charge you for waiting in their lobby, right?

Finding your courage, you pulled the door open, only to pause as the people inside turned to stare at you. Two men and a woman.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately, losing your nerve. “This was a bad idea.” You let the door go and turned to leave.

“Wait!” the woman called. Her voice was loud, and you couldn’t help but obey, your shoulders tensing, your body filling with nerves. She stood and met you at the door.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” Her eyes scanned you up and down, lines forming between her brows the longer she stared.

“I’m fine. I was just…” you trailed off with a shrug. But the woman and the two men behind her waited for you to finish. You smiled and gave an awkward laugh. “I got locked out of my apartment. I’m just waiting for my boyfriend to call to let me know I can go back inside. I was hoping I could hang around for a bit just to warm up. You guys are the only ones still open this time of day.”

You felt like you were rambling but couldn’t help yourself.

“Of course! Please come in.” The woman stepped back to let you in, flashing a bright smile.

You cautiously entered, hyper-aware of your flip-flops smacking against the bottom of your feet in the silent office.

You glanced between the woman and the men again. They were all gathered in the lobby, the other lights in the office turned off.

“I’m sorry, were you about to leave? I can—” You stepped back, not wanting to keep them. They would likely rather be on their way home than babysitting you.

“Please, we practically live here. Stay!” one of the men said. He had blond hair and a charmingly boyish smile.

Not seeing how to get out of the situation—and not sure if you wanted to—you carefully sat down in the chair the blond man pulled out for you from the few lined against one wall.

“I’m Foggy,” the man said, holding out his hand to you. Smiling politely, you shook it, introducing yourself. The others followed; the woman was Karen, and the other man, with dark hair and circular red glasses, was Matt.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Matt started slowly, as if afraid to startle you. “If you’re waiting to get back into your apartment, why not just wait in the lobby of your building?”

You froze for less than a second before the tension faded away with practiced ease.

“I figured I’d get some fresh air,” you lied. “Still not used to the changing weather and was too stubborn to go back when I realized how cold it was.” You laughed, hoping your tale of personal failing would make Matt drop the subject.

The truth was you tried staying in the lobby before, the first time Dean locked you out after you moved in with him. He’d checked the tracker on your phone and came stomping out of the elevator fifteen minutes later, saying you needed to leave the building entirely. He couldn’t think knowing you were still around, saying he could practically hear you breathing. If you wanted him to forgive you, you needed to leave. Otherwise, he would just stay mad, and who knows, maybe you’d have to spend the night sleeping on the floor of the lobby of your apartment building, hoping no one saw you.

Now you knew to leave whenever you’d done something to make Dean mad. You would go to a friend’s place if you could, but ever since you’d moved in with Dean, you’d lost contact with them.

Matt gave a small smile as if he were indulging you. “And now?”

“And now I figured I’d be better off waiting for a phone call. The halls in my place are barely better than outside.” You laughed again. “I’d rather stay here where it’s cozy. As long as that’s okay with you guys.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Karen jumped in to say, shooting a look at Matt, which, the more you studied him, you were unsure if he could even see.

“Do you want some coffee?” Foggy offered, trying to ease the tension between his friends. You rubbed your hands together, the chill from the autumnal air still clinging to them.

“That would be really nice. Thank you.” You almost wanted to say no, but a cup of hot coffee sounded so nice, and it would buy you a little more time in their office.

Foggy left for the kitchen, turning lights on along the way, leaving you, Matt, and Karen in awkward silence.

“I’m sorry, but do you need ice? For your forehead?” Karen blurted out, touching her own forehead above her left eye sympathetically.

Heat rose to your face. “This?” you said, touching the bump, attempting to cover it even though Karen had clearly already seen it. “It’s nothing. Just banged my head off the counter earlier after I dropped something.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked, drawing your attention to him and the tense grip he had on his cane. “It doesn’t hurt at all?”

His face was turned toward you, but his eyes didn’t match where yours were. Adding in the cane, you figured he was more than likely blind. At least that was one person you didn’t have to worry about altering your appearance for.

“I barely even notice it,” you lied again. Truthfully, the bump still throbbed, and while ice would be a relief, you weren’t about to let these people, these strangers, know things that could get you and Dean into trouble. Dean always said other people wouldn’t understand the dynamics of your relationship, and you had always trusted him about that.

You could trust these people for a moment of respite and nothing more.

Foggy came back into the lobby with a paper cup in his hand, hopefully saving you from any further interrogation.

They told you about themselves, about their work, and you did the same. Thankfully, no further probing questions were asked. And if they noticed how often you checked your phone for an incoming call or a text, they didn’t say anything.

Not until an hour had passed anyway.

“Still haven’t heard anything?” Matt asked just as you checked the service on your phone for the umpteenth time, almost convinced that was why Dean hadn’t called. It was a little eerie how Matt seemed to know what you were doing, but you brushed it off as simply caused by a lull in conversation.

“Not yet,” you answered, releasing your thoroughly chewed lip. “It’s probably just taking longer than usual. I’ll go, though. I don’t want to keep you guys.” You forced a levity you didn’t feel to your voice. You had hoped Dean would have called by now, but it wasn’t the longest he left you out of the apartment.

You stood, about to run off and leave these very nice people to their night, and missed the shared look between them.

“Have you eaten yet?” Matt asked suddenly, stopping you in your tracks.

“No, but I was just going to grab something on my way back home.” Another lie. You couldn’t go back to the apartment without Dean’s say so.

“Oh, you have your wallet with you?” Matt asked, his surprise not sounding entirely genuine.

But he was blind. He would have no idea you didn’t have pockets, let alone what may or may not have been in them.

“Yep!” you said, voice pitched a little too high. You moved toward the door.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Karen suggested, “We were just about to grab dinner ourselves.”

“We’ll even be nice and not take you to our favorite bar. Pretty sure you can’t eat anything there without getting some kind of food poisoning,” Foggy chimed in.

It was like they were all telepathically communicating, working together to get you to go with them.

It would have been concerning if you hadn’t felt so at ease with them. Warnings of not letting strangers take you to a secondary location were easily brushed from your mind, not given the chance to linger.

These people weren’t strangers in the usual sense. They were well-known lawyers with their names plastered on a sign right outside their door. Not to mention you practically accosted them, and they were too kind to turn you away.

Plus…it was nice spending time with other people again. You’d lost contact with so many people in the last year you’d forgotten what it was like to spend time with someone other than Dean.

You weren’t ready for it to end. Not yet.

The ache of loneliness and a growl from your stomach had you saying, “Okay.”

The restaurant they picked wasn’t anything fancy, but it wasn’t one you’d ever been to before. You had passed by it on several occasions, but Dean had never been interested whenever you brought it up. He never gave you a reason why, and you never understood his reluctance.

Now that you finally tried it, you can firmly say you weren’t missing out on much—it was more like any other family dining place—but the food was good. Great for your empty stomach—and the company was even better.

Matt—a sort of gentleman, you came to find out—offered to pay for everyone. You were sure it was more for your benefit than anything, the man somehow knowing you didn’t have any way to pay.

You almost said no, but you were already in too deep. Not to mention, there still hadn’t been any word from Dean.

When the bill was paid and the four of you headed for the door, your demeanor shifted.

It was getting late, and Dean never told you that you could return to the apartment.

He’d never left you out all night before. What if he never called? Did he expect you to sleep on the street, or would you be allowed to go back to his building?

You could call him. You weren’t supposed to during these lock-outs, but you didn’t have much choice, not if you needed to know what was going on.

A light touch to your elbow made you jump.

“Is something wrong?” Matt asked. You must have been so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed him get so close.

“No.” The lie slipped through automatically, and you prayed you were convincing. “Just thinking that I might finally convince my boyfriend to come here now that I’ve tried it.”

Matt nodded. “Have you heard from him yet?” he asked cautiously.

You glanced away, glad he couldn’t see your nervous shifting, but then you caught Karen and Foggy watching your exchange from a few feet away.

“He probably just got caught up bullshitting with the maintenance guy,” you said instead of giving a direct answer.

You pulled up Dean’s contact in your phone. You had to risk calling him, not wanting to look like a fool in front of your almost-friends.

The call rang just once before he answered. Like he had been waiting for you.

You were about to speak, a term of endearment on your lips, when Dean beat you to it.

“Who are you with?” he asked, the words low and full of venom.

You froze for a moment, too familiar with the tone and what it meant. You turned around and stepped away from the others, not wanting them to see your face. You didn’t properly register the newly formed scowl on Matt’s face.

Dean continued. “I saw where you were. A lawyer? Are you lying to him about me?” The anger in him rose with every word.

“No, that’s not it at all!” you quietly cried, trying desperately not to alert anyone. There was nothing you could do when Dean got like this, in this argumentative state that got you pushed out of the apartment in the first place.

You shouldn’t have called. It just made Dean angrier. You should have waited. You knew better, but you wanted to look normal in front of such friendly people.

“They were just being nice, making sure I stayed warm. That’s it,” you insisted.

“Oh, so, now you think I don’t take care of you,” he snarked back.

The next words spilled out before you could stop them. Years of pent-up frustrations and fear, and, most importantly, anger coming to a head.

“You’re the one who kicked me out!” you hissed before gasping.

You shouldn’t have said that; you didn’t mean it. You needed to say something, do something quickly before—

Dean chuckled, low and deep, without any hint of genuine amusement. “If that’s what you think happened, that this isn’t all your fault, then you’re not coming back.”

“Dean, please, no—” you tried to say, but the line cut out before you could even think of how to start your apology.

You stood there, numb, unsure of what to do.

Where do you go? Do you go back to Dean’s anyway? You’ve been living with him for so long. All your stuff is at his place. Surely he wouldn’t break up with you because of one small misunderstanding? Maybe if you go and explain in person—

Someone softly called your name.

You finally lowered your phone, but you still didn’t turn around, trying to calm your breathing and blink away the tears that threatened to spill.

“What happened?” the voice asked, close this time. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you saw Matt, now standing beside you.

“I um…” You didn’t know what to say. Could you tell them the truth? Would they care? Would they even help you? “It’s nothing. I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

No, you couldn’t tell them. You wouldn’t put your troubles on these people, kind as they were. And chances were, Dean would call you the very next morning, begging your forgiveness. He would tell you how he shouldn’t have said that to you and ask you to come back.

It would be like every other time; you just knew, and the two of you would go back to normal and be happy.

“I need to get back,” you continued, trying to step around Matt, only for him to reach out, his hand hovering by your arm, making you stop.

“You said he kicked you out,” Matt said softly, brow furrowed in concern.

You had hoped he and Foggy and Karen hadn’t heard you. Clearly, you weren’t as quiet as you thought. Knowing your luck, the volume on your phone was likely so loud they probably heard everything Dean said.

You ran a hand over your face, trying to force down your embarrassment and anxiety.

It didn’t work.

You released a sharp, stuttering gasp, still unable to find the words when Matt asked, “Has he done this before?”

You hadn’t meant for it to be an answer, but Matt and the others took it as one nonetheless.

With a gentle hand on your shoulder, you let them lead you out of the cold.

At Matt’s apartment, you didn’t get the half-expected lecture/pep-talk combo that usually came in these situations.

None of the you deserve better, you shouldn’t let him treat you like that, don’t go back to him nonsense.

Instead, Matt, Foggy, and Karen hustled you into Matt’s place—the nicest of the three of them, and completely wasted on a blind man, according to Foggy.

“He should at least have a hole in the wall. Maybe two,” he complained to you.

They only asked if you were okay. If they could get you anything. You thought you saw Karen looking something up on her phone and sharing it with Foggy, but Matt distracted you by handing over a pair of socks to keep your feet warm and the softest blanket you had ever felt.

They spent the night acting as if everything was normal, like you belonged and this was something you had all done before.

You felt…completely at ease for the first time in a long time.

But even still, tears threatened to spill throughout the night, and you kept your phone clutched tightly in your hand, hoping for a call or text.

It was hedging past midnight. Foggy and Karen said their goodbyes an hour earlier and nothing from Dean appeared on your phone. You kept waiting, though. Watching the battery slowly deplete and afraid to ask for a charger. It would have been nothing compared to what Matt has already given you—even offering his own bed—but you didn’t want to add one more burden to the ever-growing list.

Even with the late hour, you and Matt kept talking. At first, about nothing and everything, simply whatever topic came to mind as had been the way since you met him earlier that evening. But then, after a lull, things changed.

Matt shifted on the couch across from you and licked his lips. His glasses were still on, but even so, you were still able to pick up on his nerves.

“I had this girlfriend once,” he started, and you tensed, afraid of what was coming. As if he could sense you, he raised a hand, a gesture meant to calm, but from Matt, you weren’t sure.

“And…I was in love with her. I met her while I was in college, and from that first night, I was gone,” Matt recounted with a faint, somewhat bittersweet smile. But then he sobered, and his smile faded. “I almost gave up everything for her. More than once.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Why didn’t you? Give up everything?” you couldn’t help but ask. From your limited information, it sounded like it could have been incredibly romantic.

“Because I would have had to give up myself to be with her,” Matt answered, his voice soft, distracted by far-off thoughts.

His reasoning didn’t make any sense to you. You told him so.

Matt leaned back with a sigh. He reached for his tie—already loosened earlier in the night—and tugged on it as if it was still restricting him.

“I almost failed out of school after I met her. She’d ask me to meet her at odd hours—during the day, in the middle of the night. Whenever the urge struck her. I skipped class, missed assignments. The place I’d worked so hard to get to, and I just…” Matt shrugged like he didn’t understand his own actions. “None of it mattered when I was with her. And then she asked me to do something I couldn’t do. Said it would be good for me. I said no, and she left.” If you knew where Matt kept his liquor, you’d pour him a glass. He looked like he could use it.

You wondered what the point of the story was, why he was telling it to you. You toyed with the idea of calling it a night when Matt started up again.

“Years later, she came back. No matter how much I told myself it wouldn’t be like the last time, it still was. I followed her around, did what she asked. It was exciting. That time, though, I had the first with Foggy. He and Karen and I were working on a case I asked them to take, one they didn’t want anything to do with. I thought I could handle her and the case, but I just fucked everything up, and Foggy and Karen left. And then my ex…left again. The only thing I was left with was the mess I made.”

“Did she come back after that?” you asked. The tension in Matt’s shoulders, the way his fingers kept twitching, told you the answer before he did.

Matt nodded but didn’t say anything.

“What happened that time?” you prompted. If he started this story, he might as well finish it.

Matt gave you another smile, this one holding a touch of disgust. “Same thing all over again. I got pulled in and I thought, no matter what happened before, this time, I was going to save her. But I couldn’t, and I almost died because of it.”

“You’re joking,” you said, taken aback. You’ve heard stories about things ending badly between couples, but as far as you knew, you hadn’t met someone like that.

Matt shook his head, looking almost exhausted by the telling. “Couple of broken ribs, a good knock to the head. Lost most of my hearing for a while. And worst of all, I was alone. I’d driven everyone away.”

Though Matt was sitting in front of you, whole and healthy, you needed to know the ending now. What happened to Matt was horrible, but…

“Did you love her?” you asked.

Matt seemed shocked, hands frozen on his tie and brow furrowed.

“I did.”

“And if she comes back, will you forgive her?” That’s all that matters to you in the end—love and forgiveness. “Will you go back to her?”

Matt took a sharp breath and then shifted uncomfortably. “It… wouldn’t be good if I did,” he said.

“Why not? If you love her and can forgive her, then what’s stopping you from being together,” you asked, confused. It’s how you and Dean made it through all your rough patches. You were sure it was how you’d make it through this one.

Matt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, dislodging his glasses but still keeping them on.

“She wasn’t…” Matt started slowly, sounding frustrated. “She wasn’t always a good person. I lost myself when she was around. I couldn’t see anything beyond her. Her attention was...intoxicating. And poisonous.”

“She could change. If she promised to do better, be better—” Matt stopped you before you could argue further. You weren’t sure why you tried to in the first place.

“No,” he said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t go back to her. And it doesn’t matter. She died.”

You flinched, the answer and the revelation striking you harder than it should have. It wasn’t the outcome you…wanted to hear, you supposed.

“Oh,” you offered, your reaction stilted. What was the proper way to respond to something like that? “I’m so sorry.”

Matt nodded and rubbed his face again, looking defeated. Whatever energy he had earlier in the evening was completely gone. “I should let you go to bed.”

That night was awful. You tossed and turned, hardly finding sleep and plagued by nightmares. Every time you woke up, you checked your phone. The lack of any communication from Dean only made you feel worse.

The sun was just starting to kiss the horizon when you finally gave up on sleep. Not long after, you heard Matt rise from the couch and start puttering around the kitchen. He tried to be quiet, but the sounds echoed throughout the space anyway.

“Morning,” you called softly as you left the bedroom.

“Morning,” Matt greeted in return. “Coffee or tea?”

He had his glasses on. They almost seemed out of place with his t-shirt and sweatpants. You had only seen him in his work suit. He still looked good, though, you decided.

“Tea.” You sat at the small table and watched Matt deftly move around his kitchen to prepare your cup.

“I only have black tea,” he said apologetically.

“Good.” You preferred it anyway.

Silence fell between the two of you again, even as Matt handed you your mug and joined you at the table.

After a while, Matt shifted in his seat. “What…do you want to do?”

You knew he wasn’t asking about a stroll in the park.

You leaned forward onto the table, both hands clutching the mug as you stared unseeing into the last dregs of your tea. If only there were leaves to tell you what to do.

Rubbing your lips together, you played with the dead skin there, trying to put off answering. If you didn’t say anything, you could stay in this moment forever.

Matt said your name, drawing your attention, needing your answer.

“I want to go to Dean’s place,” you finally said, trying to sound confident and sure of yourself. If he wasn’t going to talk to you, try to figure things out, then you needed to step up. You didn’t want to be like Matt and his ex; you understood, eventually, what he was trying to tell you, but you wanted to fight for your relationship, no matter how hard it was at times. You loved each other, so it had to be worth it.

Matt’s hands were clutched together in a white-knuckle grip on the tabletop. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but otherwise, his expression was blank.

“Do you want to go back to him?” His voice was low, an emotion you couldn’t decipher tinged the edges. Nothing like Dean, where you would know you did something wrong by the tone of his voice alone.

“I do.” You kept your back straight and your eyes on his face, steeling yourself for whatever Matt might say next.

He and his friends hadn’t given you a lecture about your relationship last night. Maybe Matt would try now.

But all he said was, “Okay.”

He insisted on walking you to your apartment. You had tried to tell him it was far, that he surely had work, you were fine, really—all manner of things. Matt remained steadfast through it all. He didn’t get angry. Didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t say anything about you at all.

“I would feel better knowing you got home safe.”

Well. You couldn’t find a way to argue with that.

The walk to your building was much nicer than your wandering around the city the previous night. The air was still chilled, but the rising sun was able to peek through some of the buildings and cast a warm glow over you. Matt’s borrowed jacket also helped keep you warm, but all you could think of was how you’d have to give it back before Dean saw.

“This is me,” you told Matt, stopping in front of your building. You expected him to let go of your arm—you’d been guiding him the whole walk after you asked if it would be easier—but he didn’t. You only felt his fingers twitch.

“Do you mind if I go up with you?” he asked.

All you could think of was Dean. “I don’t—”

“Please. Dean won’t even see me.” It was like he could read your thoughts.

You chewed on your lip. “Alright,” you sighed. “But you have to take this back.”

You slipped the jacket off and handed it to Matt, the comfortable warmth leaving you all too soon.

You led Matt through the building, your steps slowing the closer you got to the door. When it finally came into view a few floors up, you touched Matt’s arm.

“Wait here,” you said, barely hearing yourself over the pounding of your heart. You told yourself it was just excitement at reconciling with Dean.

Only after your second tentative knock did you finally hear heavy footsteps inside. They stopped at the door, Dean likely looking through the peephole. You didn’t look up at it; he would see you clearly, and you knew to keep your head down when apologizing.

The hinges squeaked when he finally opened the door.

Neither of you spoke.

“I was wondering when you were coming over,” Dean said, his voice light, almost happy. You would have been happy—he seemed to have forgiven you—but your mind stuck on “coming over.” He said it like you were visiting. Like you weren’t living with him and just a new partner with their own apartment in another part of the city.

You risked a glance up at him anyway, a tentative smile on your lips. He looked at ease, and the roiling in your stomach started to ease.

Dean placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin, and pulled you through the door.

“I’m so sorry about yesterday,” you started, ready to go over the speech you had prepared last night during your bouts of restlessness. Dean hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

Suddenly, your head slammed against the wall.

Dean had used the hand on your shoulder to shove you against the wall next to the door.

Wincing, dazed, you tried to raise a hand to the back of your head as if touching it would ease the pain, but Dean shook you, making your hand drop.

“What did I tell you about disrespecting me, hm?” Dean growled, his face so close to yours that the heat of his breath fanned over your face. He didn’t leave you room to answer before pulling you forward by your shoulder, only to slam you into the wall again. “And then running to some other guy? You thought you could get away with that?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. Your heart started to pound, fear filling you. Dean had never hurt you before. The wall, sure. Occasionally, he got so upset that he’d break whatever item was on hand. But he’d never done anything to you.

He wasn’t really hurting you, though. You tried justifying it. You weren’t bleeding; nothing was broken. You were sure you’d barely even have a bruise from his grip.

Dean has always been possessive of you. You’d always considered it a part of his charm. A guy who saw no one else and wanted no one else but you, and willing to stake his claim and not back down. It was all very romantic. Sure, it made it hard to keep in touch with family and friends, but you didn’t regret it.

At least, you didn’t think you did until you spent last night with Matt and his friends.

Someone called your name. It wasn’t until Dean whipped his head around that you realized it wasn’t him but someone from the hall.

Dean hadn’t closed the door.

Matt was standing in the doorway, his cane held down at his side, gripping it so tightly you swore you heard it creaking from the strain.

Dean changed instantly. His hands left you as he moved to fill the doorway with his body.

“What’s up, man? Need help with something?” Dean asked, sounding completely at ease and friendly as he eyed Matt up and down.

“I heard you,” Matt said, voice deadly quiet.

Dean acted confused. “Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He gripped the door tighter, ready to slam it in Matt’s face.

“I think you do.” Matt tilted his head, turning his head like he knew where you were, and said your name. “Do you want to leave?”

Dean turned to you, a sneer on his face. “This is the guy you were with last night, babe?” he asked. How he managed to keep his voice sounding so amicable while his expression was anything but, you’ll never know.

You didn’t answer Dean, but he didn’t need you to.

“Appreciate the concern, but we’re good here.” Matt’s hand was on the door before Dean could slam it.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Dean huffed a breath through his nose, sounding much like an agitated animal. “Go on, answer your friend.”

“I’m fine, Matt,” you said quietly.

“Everything’s fine, Matt,” Dean said with a triumphant grin. He tried closing the door, but Matt’s hand didn’t budge.

“Do you often slam people into walls for fun, or was this a special occasion?” Matt asked, and embarrassment flooded through you. You didn’t like that he knew what had happened to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said.

“Sure you do.” Matt pushed on the door and attempted to step forward.

Either Dean wasn’t expecting it, or Matt was stronger because Dean jerked back as the door moved before putting his full weight behind it.

“Who the hell do you think you are trying to come into my place?” Dean spat, trying to force Matt back.

“A concerned friend. And between everything I heard last night and right now, I have every right to be.”

The battle of wills against the door hadn’t even caused Matt to break out in a sweat, meanwhile, Dean was struggling. You wanted to tell them to stop, to ask Matt to leave. You didn’t even understand why he was acting like this in the first place. After last night, you thought he wouldn’t try to interfere.

Matt turned back to you. “I’ll do whatever you say, but I need to know: do you want to leave this apartment?” It was as if the words pained him to say.

You were about to tell him, no, you were fine, that he was making things worse when Dean spoke.

“Stop talking.” He released the door, and Matt stumbled forward a step before catching himself. Before he could do anything else, Dean grabbed the front of Matt’s shirt.

You didn’t know what he was planning, whether he would hit Matt or shove him; you just knew you had to stop Dean.

Reacting blindly, you lunged forward, grabbing Dean’s arm, and tried to pull it back away from Matt.

“Don’t—” was the only word you could get out before Dean thrust his arm back, shoving you and knocking you off balance.

Falling backward, you had no chance to catch yourself. You hit the floor hard, head banging on the vinyl tile, adding to the damage Dean did mere minutes ago.

Dazed, you laid there for a you didn’t know how long. When you finally came to enough, you heard Dean yelling and Matt calling your name.

Matt had Dean pressed against the wall, one arm braced across his chest to hold him in place. Even though Dean was spitting obscenities, he was still more composed than on his bad days. You didn’t understand it.

Matt wasn’t paying any attention to Dean; instead solely focused on you.

You could finally make out his words.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, hand holding the back of your head like it would ease the pain. You didn’t think about how Matt wouldn’t be able to see you.

“Grab your things,” Matt said over Dean’s venom, and you realized perhaps he saw more than you initially thought. “We’re leaving.”

You want to say you didn’t hesitate, but you did.

How could you leave Dean, especially when he was so angry? It would be even worse when you eventually came back.

And then you finally realized: it would get worse. Today was already bad, and even if Dean apologized, he still tried to hurt Matt. It took you even longer still to realize you didn’t want to lose another friend to Dean. He never treated his own friends like this, so why was he like that with yours?

Matt called your name again so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

“Okay,” you said and left to grab what little you could carry.

You went back to your parents’ place outside the city after that day. Matt took you back to his apartment after leaving Dean’s. He sat with you as you called your parents, who you haven’t had more than short and—you understand now—supervised conversations with in months.

You spent longer than you meant to with them. If you were being honest, you didn’t want to leave. You were afraid to.

Living without a roommate in the city was practically impossible unless you had a shitty apartment or an extremely well-paying job—the first you didn’t want and the second you didn’t have.

Slowly, though, you relearned what it was like being around other people again. You’d been isolated for long enough that the presence of other people at first left you nervous and twitchy, constantly looking over your shoulder for fear of being caught doing something you shouldn’t. The feeling subsided, and you remembered what it was like not to be alone. You were even able to move in with a friend and their boyfriend. You reconnected with some old friends and spoke to your parents so often that you were almost sick of it.

You’ve never been more thankful or felt more loved.

You hadn’t seen Matt or his friends in months.

You didn’t know if it was entirely appropriate to reach out to them, even after all they did to help.

You had thought that, perhaps, they had forgotten about you. They helped so many people, surely one night with you wouldn’t have lodged itself into their memory like it did yours. They might have thought nothing of you, but you wouldn’t forget them.

The door to the restaurant slams closed behind you, the wind forcing it shut. You’re happy you didn’t flinch this time, though it’s at least partially because you’ve been hearing the sound all day. The weather is warming up, but the chill is persistent, a wind storm sent to remind everyone that winter won’t go easily.

You glance at the time on your phone again, praying your takeout arrives soon. You had called ahead, but the weekend left the staff busy. Typical for a Friday night. Despite the protestations of your stomach, however, you were willing to wait.

It’s the restaurant Matt, Foggy, and Karen took you to that night. You hadn’t been since, but you couldn’t help but crave the meal you had that night, wondering if the freedom to choose your own food would make it taste better.

“Hey!” someone calls from behind you, whoever threw the door open a moment ago. Probably someone jackass upset that a server hasn’t come to seat them yet. The thought makes you roll your eyes as you swipe between apps on your phone.

And then someone says your name.

As if summoned by your very thoughts, Matt, Foggy, and Karen are standing behind you, smiling at you like old friends.

“Hi,” you say, at a loss for words despite the grin spreading across your face.

“It’s been a while. How are you?” Karen asks carefully. She looks you over, likely taking note of your weather-appropriate outfit. You’re sure Matt would have told them what happened, but none of them would know what became of you afterward.

“I’m—” you cut yourself off, forcing yourself not to give the same polite ‘I’m good’ you give everyone. “I’m doing a lot better now. Thank you.”

Thanking her for asking, thanking all of them for helping you.

“How’s Dean?” Matt asks next, making Foggy elbow him in the side.

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “Haven’t seen him in a while.” Matt tries to hide a smile, but it still forces its way through.

“Good,” he says unabashedly. Foggy elbows him again with a scolding Matt! under his breath.

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “It’s… it’s a good thing.”

“You should eat with us,” Foggy suggests. “We should catch up.”

Warmth filled you, and you were about to jump at the chance to say yes when the server finally arrived.

“I’m so sorry about your wait. Here’s your order,” the young woman says to you, crushing your excitement.

You offer your thanks and take your bag before turning back to your almost-friends.

“Another time,” you say apologetically, gesturing with your bag.

“What’s your number,” Matt says before you can make your way to the door. “We can set something up for another time.”

You bite your lip, trying to hide your grin. “I’d like that.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfic #x reader

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