#but the idea that they didn’t anticipate this and get it all out on the table first worries me

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt finally confronts brat!reader about her sudden distance, but it doesn’t quite go as expected

conversations like these were hard for matt, to say the least — he hated to feel like he was overstepping boundaries you'd so carefully set in any way, but he had to. everything was going so well between you two. for it to all suddenly slip between his ringed fingers like water? he couldn't just sit back and let you push him away like this.

with the silence in the living room, save for the cartoon mazzy had fallen asleep watching beside matt, he felt a familiar yearning in his chest. now had to be the time. he was done psyching himself out of words like he had the past week now.

standing from his spot, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler, matt practically tip-toed over to your bedroom. your head snapped up when you heard the three soft knocks on your door frame, assuming it was matt getting ready to tell you he was heading home for the night, like had become recent routine. matt then cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets in a brief moment of silence. "you're gonna have to tell me what's wrong eventually, " he finally spoke up, heart pounding in his eardrums like they never had before.

"what?" was your immediate reply, playing dumb as your deadpan facial expression remained unwavering.

matt's eyebrows immediately furrowed, knowing you were just playing games with him now. he couldn't be too upset though, or else he'd never get to the bottom of all your weird behavior. "baby, is it something i did?" he questioned, completely disregarding your clueless act, "we can talk this through; we always do. you just have to tell me what's wrong."

the way you looked at him - like he were some sort of lunatic standing in front of you - he couldn't say it didn't hurt. always being 'mr. fix it' was getting exhausting, and for probably the first time since he met you, matt began to wonder if it was all really worth it. all the games you played, tugging at his heart strings and using your guys' child to manipulate him... there had to be something more out there, right? was driving him crazy fun for you?

a clear desperation wrote itself all over matt's face, his expression as he stood so timidly in your doorway making you want to crawl out of your skin. “matt…” you trailed off, shifting your seated position in your bed.

“what?” he replies, voice coming out in an almost whine-like manner. he felt this insatiable sense of dread wash over him, like he somehow knew what you were going to say before you even said it.

but when you remained silent, he just couldn’t take it anymore. “y- y’know what, forget i even said anything,” he finally breathed out, an empty feeling at the idea of giving up so easily — there was nothing else he could do, though. he knew how you were: if you didn’t want to talk, you simply weren’t going to. that’s what he told himself.

and he began to turn away, one hand clinging to your doorframe as if it were telling him he needed to stay. “matt, come sit.”

he stopped in his tracks, ears practically perking up at the sentence. his head instantly snapped in your direction, bright blue eyes widened in surprise when they caught you patting the empty space of your bed in front if you. he almost didn’t believe it, all the negative emotions that had once rushed through him in painful waves seeming to instantly subside as a glimmer of hope fluttered in his chest.

maybe that was stupid of him, but this was a real step for you two. a big one, he was sure of it. he wasted no time in taking a few steps across the room to reach you, carefully sitting in front of you. watching as matt bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation, a nervous habit he’s had all the time you’ve known him, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

matt was so ready. he needed to know what was wrong, eyes eagerly scanning your face at the idea of you finally opening up to him after all this time. “you know you’re a great dad, right?” you muttered, your words much different than what he’d expected.

that caught him off guard, a small twitch in his features telling you he was a bit confused. he wasn’t sure what mazzy had to do with any of this. you two were co-parenting just fine, always have been, whether you were on good terms or not. but he kept quiet, silently urging you to explain yourself.

“and you’re so loving–full of emotions that…” you paused, trying to think of the right words.

somehow, matt was catching on, no longer so pleased with the idea of you ���opening up’ to him anymore. it was like you’d taken him on a roller coaster he didn’t sign up to ride, and he hated that. “…that i can’t handle.”

right, he knew that. matt knew you were never fond of his big emotions, always telling him he can be too much at times. and he understood. he never wanted to put whatever he was feeling onto you. he wasn’t, though; he knew he wasn’t. so what’s all this about?

it took a moment for matt to think up a response, sighing a bit before he cleared his throat. “i don’t get what that has to do with you acting all weird. i’ve only been trying to keep us together… as a family,” he opposes, shrugging a bit to seem less caught up about this than he actually was.

too quick for matt’s comfort, you nodded, a small hum following. “does that apply to the sex, too?”

almost taken aback, his mouth opened as if he were ready to say something, but nothing came out. “you suck at no strings attached, matthew. i know what you’re thinking every time you come around,” you added, each word like a barbed blade stabbing at an open wound. was this too cruel? no, it couldn’t be—you were only telling him the truth, and god, did he need to hear it. “you think that whenever we’re sleeping together, we’re on ‘good terms’, like it’s grounds for fixing everything and becoming one happy family where your daughter’s parents are happily in love.”

you had him there and he knew it, but for you to just sit and tell him all his efforts are for nothing so easily? he knew there had to be something more to it. you weren’t telling him something. “but when we’re not-”

“it doesn’t work that way. now go home, matt”

and don’t ever say matt was in denial because he’s not… at least, that’s what he told himself as he did the walk of shame from your apartment to his car, that nagging feeling of yearning he’d felt earlier somehow worse now.

w/c : 1.1k

a/n : there will be no part two

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[svnluns]

⋆ truth or date (part 2)

You couldn’t help but blush at Billie’s words. She noticed your expression change, and a mischievous smile spread across her face. Deciding to make this round of Truth or Dare even more entertaining, she moved closer to you and gently pulled you down onto the floor. You lay back, your body tense with anticipation, as she climbed on top of you, her eyes locking with yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

She leaned in and began kissing you, her lips traveling from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her hands roamed freely, teasing and caressing, making your breath hitch. As her mouth found your neck, she nibbled gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Then, her hands slipped lower, parting your legs to press against the damp fabric of your panties. You gasped as her fingers began to explore you, massaging your core and making you arch your back, unable to suppress the moans that escaped your lips.

You had no idea she could make you feel this way—so desired, so utterly consumed. It was more than a crush now; it was an overwhelming need that had been lying dormant, waiting for this moment. When she slid your panties to the side and slipped two fingers inside you, your loud moan filled the room, your body responding to her touch with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed.

She moved deeper, her beautiful blue eyes never leaving yours as you clung to her, pulling her closer. She removed your shirt and bra, her gaze drinking in the sight of your bare chest. Her hand cupped one of your breasts, her lips descending to tease and suck at the sensitive skin, driving you wild.

Billie’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing through you. Her kisses, her caresses—it was all intoxicating, a sensation you couldn’t get enough of. Your breaths grew ragged as her fingers moved deeper, exploring every inch of you with precision and care. Your body quivered under her, your fingers tangling in her hair as you tried to ground yourself in the whirlwind of passion and desire she was evoking.

“Ah, fuck. Please don’t stop. Keep going until I can’t take it anymore,” you cried out, your voice breaking between moans as her name spilled from your lips.

“I won’t stop—as long as you’re a good girl for me,” she whispered in your ear, her lips brushing your skin as she kissed your face.

You nodded eagerly, willing to do anything to keep her hands and mouth on you. “Please,” you murmured, “Please don’t stop. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I hope you know how to keep a promise,” she teased, her voice low and sultry as she moved lower, her kisses trailing down your body. When she reached your thighs, she paused to look up at you, her eyes filled with desire. Then her tongue flicked over your clit, drawing a loud gasp from you. She pinned your hands above your head, holding you in place as she continued to pleasure you.

Her fingers joined her mouth, and you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking against her. The sensation was overwhelming, building into an intense crescendo that left you breathless. Your body trembled, your head falling back as you let out a final loud moan. Tears streamed down your face as you came hard on her fingers, the release leaving you utterly spent.

“You definitely know how to keep a promise,” she murmured with a smirk, leaning up to kiss your lips tenderly, leaving you both breathless and yearning for more.

[grudgecollector]

Afterglow | Nam-gyu / American!Reader

You're reading part four

Story Summary: Nam-gyu gets a new job and finds himself falling for the girl behind the deli counter.

Words: 1.9k

Tags/Warnings: Nam-gyu and Thanos have PTSD, canon divergence, Thanos lives, heavy angst, fighting, references to past substance abuse, slight suicidal ideation

A/N: Oh boy oh boy, now this is a chapter I cooked up with the devious side of my brain.

This is a particularly heavy chapter, lots of angst, but in the next one I'll make up for it I promise (maybe ;))

Also I'd like to thank you guys again for the continued love on the Afterglow series. I wasn't expecting to do this many chapters, but I love them.......

MASTERLIST | Mini playlist to fit the chapter

October thirty-first, Halloween, one of the most anticipated holidays for kids and adults alike. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy at the idea of being able to celebrate with Nam-gyu. It made you feel like a kid all over again, happily trying to plan out costume ideas, helping decorate his apartment a little bit. You were trying hard not to go overboard with your excitement. 

Since Halloween wasn’t as popular in South Korea as it was in the United States, you wanted to make sure that you could give both him and Su-bong an authentic experience. Candy, costumes, make-up, scary movies. Even parties, which you were never fully privy to in the past, but willed yourself to make an exception this time around. 

You jiggled your spare key a little in the lock of Nam-gyu and Su-bong's apartment, wiping your feet on the welcome mat outside before removing your shoes. Your umbrella was still dripping on the concrete just outside the door, you silently hoped to yourself that nobody would take it while you were inside. 

Su-bong was sitting on the couch twirling a finger through his fresh hot pink hair, fingertips still stained in the dye. He was watching one of his many guilty pleasure shows at a low volume. His brows were knit together in what seemed to be concentration, and something a little more. 

“Hey, Su-bong.” You greeted with a smile, setting down a few of the things you had brought for tonight. 

His head snapped over to look at you, “Oh hey, didn’t hear you come in.” His own smile faltered a little, it was distant, the usual happy spark in his eyes replaced with something a lot more unrecognizable. 

“I think Nam-gyu’s still asleep.” He answered your unspoken question flatly. His usual teasing and friendly demeanor shut away. 

Strange…

All you could do was nod. Your eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than usual before you made your way down the short hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You carefully grasped the knob to his door and opened it slowly, not wanting to accidentally wake him up. There was a faint smell of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. His room was almost pitch black if it wasn’t for the little bit of light let in by the open door. 

Right on the bed was the outline of your boyfriend underneath the covers. His weighted blanket was pulled tight around his shoulder as he laid on his side, breaths coming out in slow quiet snores. 

Worry tugged at your heart, it was four in the afternoon, usually he never slept this long. 

You passed the threshold of his doorway, closing the door quietly behind you. A part of you didn’t want to disturb him, deep in your stomach you know you should just leave him be. But you just couldn’t, not with the thorny feeling of curiosity jabbing itself into your side.

“Nam-gyu.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand settling itself on his covered shoulder. “Honey it’s really late, you should probably wake up.” 

He woke up with a startled gasp, his body going completely rigid underneath his sheets. You could hear his quickened breaths against his pillow, a tell-tale sign you recognized all too quickly. You were quick to press the switch to the lamp on his nightstand, his room being cast in a soft yellow light. 

There in the bed lay your boyfriend, a trembling man under a heap of blankets. He glanced over his shoulder with worried eyes, tears already brimming. Almost a year with him and you had never seen him so utterly terrified. 

Your name fell from his wobbly lips, trapped within a choked sob, he looked like a scared child seeking comfort. 

You wasted no time making your way to your usual spot on the bed, sliding underneath the heavy sheets and bringing him into your chest.

The sobs he released into your shirt were raw with emotion, as if they were being torn from his body unwillingly. You didn’t care that his tears and snot were seeping through the fabric and onto your chest. 

He was shaking like a leaf in your arms, hiccuping sobs forcing his fingers to grip tighter around the back of your shirt. 

~~~

Su-bong clenched his jaw at the sound of Nam-gyu’s sobs. A part of him wanted to storm into his friends room and tell you to leave, that he would handle things himself. But he couldn’t… He wouldn’t do that to either of you. 

You were the closest thing to normalcy Nam-gyu has had in his life since the games. Su-bong knew that more than anyone ever would. 

He watched for two years as his friend dragged his body through life pathetically. Picking at his arms every now and then as the itch, the urge, that unmatchable craving started to eat at him as he was consumed by his ever present thoughts. 

And once you came along, the dust finally seemed to settle. It was like watching his friend be built back into the man he met, while he wasn’t as selfish or as snide as he used to be, he finally found his smile again. His laugh no longer sounded forced.

He was finally happy. 

Su-bong would be lying to himself if he said that you being around was a comfort for him too. After the things both Nam-gyu and him did back in South Korea, they both needed that reminder that innocent minds such as yours were to be cherished. Those genuine smiles and laughs, clueless to the true horrors in the world. 

Nam-gyu was always so distant around the anniversary of the games. Shut off from the world, sleeping away the day just so he didn’t slip back into old habits. He always looked so hollow when he would finally show his face, dark bags under his puffy eyes, hair a mess, wearing the same exact clothes that he had been wearing four days before. 

A sigh fell from Su-bong’s lips as he noticed the cries of his friend finally started to quiet down, occasional choked sobs drifting through the thin walls. 

Su-bong knew that if you were going to continue being in a relationship with Nam-gyu, you had to at least be given a half truth eventually. 

Given a glimpse of the extent of Nam-gyu’s gruesome, tormenting, past. 

~~~

Nam-gyu felt so pathetic. His eyelids clenched so tight he was almost scared his eyes would pop in their sockets. He tried his best to will his tears away, the sobs subsiding into pitiful whimpers and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry… Fuck… I-” He was quick to push himself away from you, albeit a little harsher than he intended. Sitting up quickly and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I…” 

He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, his mind twisting and spinning so rapidly. Nam-gyu brought his hands up to his face, dragging his blunt nails along the skin of his raw cheeks.  He hoped that the brief bite of pain would bring him some sort of relief. 

God his fucking hands… If only they could stop shaking for just a second. 

Nam-gyu could feel your eyes boring into his back. He couldn’t bring himself to look over his shoulder at you. Your sweet, caring, beautiful face. It made his gut twist in a sickening way when a sudden gory image flashed in his head, an image of you in the games, dying in front of him. 

“I need to go.” He suddenly breathed out, rushing towards the door before you could even think to reach out for him. 

The world felt like it was spinning around him as he rushed to grab his jacket, slipping on one shoe at a time.

His mind was on one thing and one thing only. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going Nam-gyu?” Su-bong hissed, cutting through his friend’s tunnel vision.

It wasn’t an actual question, Su-bong knew exactly what Nam-gyu was planning to do. To search for that glorious hit that could make him forget everything that tormented his fragile mind.

“Dude… You can’t do this shit. Not today.” 

He snatched the keys from his trembling friend’s other hand, throwing them all the way into the kitchen, completely out of reach. 

“Su-bong…” Nam-gyu whispered his friend's name in warning, eyes glued to the wooden floor of their living room. 

“Your fucking girl is here bro… Do not do this shit.” An accusatory finger was jabbed lightly into Nam-gyu’s chest, “You can shut me out all you fucking want, but not her.” 

A tornado of emotions swirled recklessly inside of Nam-gyu. Right now all he wanted to do was forget, to wash all of his guilt away with one simple hit. That’s all he wanted. His heart was racing so fast in his chest, and his ears were ringing so loud he could barely concentrate anymore. 

“Sit down and smoke some weed or some shit, but we both swore that other shit off years ago, together. You can’t go sliding back on me now.” 

Nam-gyu’s hands tightened at his sides, body flushed.

Their eyes, their faces, everything was burned so brightly behind his eyelids. 

“I can’t do this anymore!” He finally shouted, making Su-bong flinch a little, “I’m so fucking tired! I just- I can’t… FUCK!” 

~~~

There was the sound of shattering glass in the hallway, so sharp and loud as you stared at Nam-gyu’s door. Still in shock from his sudden departure, seemingly running away from his deep seated emotions.

You threw back the covers hastily, ripping open his door and finding both boys fighting, yelling at each other in a way you had never seen them before. 

A picture frame was lying broken on the floor next to the front door, glass spread throughout the living room floor. Su-bong’s foot came dangerously close to one of the shards as Nam-gyu continued to jab his finger into his friend’s chest. 

“It has been so fucking easy for you! You don’t even act like it fucks with your head like it does mine!” Nam-gyu screamed at him, angry tears running down his cheeks. 

Su-bong couldn’t help but scoff, pushing against your boyfriend’s shoulder to force him to back up, “You don’t think it’s been hard on me?! Why do you think I go out so often?!” He pushed again, “I can’t stand being here by myself! I can’t get that shit out of my head! So I drown it out by going to clubs and bars!” Another push, “Don’t you think I wanna go out and get so fucked up out of my mind, do something I’ll really fucking regret?!” 

This time it was Nam-gyu who pushed him back, much harder than Su-bong had done to him, “Don’t fucking touch me again.��� His voice was cold, bordering emotionless if it wasn’t for the slight tremble in his words. 

It broke your heart to see him like this. There was so much pain built up inside of him, all you wanted to do was grab his hand and usher him back into his bedroom. Hold him until he calmed down again.

But you knew that wouldn't be possible, not with how fired up he was now. You felt hopeless, unsure how you should act under situations like this.

You had been shaken out of your thoughts finally when Nam-gyu's hand grasped the doorknob firmly, "I'm going outside for a smoke. I gotta cool off." His gaze barely flickered past your shoes when he glanced towards the hallway. "I'll be back in a bit."

[jnxjoop]

Let it happen

hwang in-ho x reader

Chapter 2

You concentrated on the ceiling that night, wild ideas festering in your mind, morally conflicted in every way. You shouldn’t be feeling this, they were complete strangers who willingly participated—a portion of them not so willing now, and that’s what puzzled you. You were against becoming so sappy over people who wouldn’t acknowledge your existence in any other circumstance, though the sympathy lingered.

You studied the room’s contents underneath the dim lighting, the other contestants sleeping the day’s events off, letting the exhaustion ebb away, something that came naturally to them, and you wished it did for you too. Your ears pricked, listening to the soft snores and sounds people made while asleep, being the only disruption to the silence. A part of you even wanted Eun-Shin to pop out, to occupy the dreadful quiet, so your mind could be silenced.

Attempting to be quiet, you scooted your weight slowly toward the corner of the bed, legs dangling from the side, the stairs a foot below. Fingers combed through [H/C] strands, massaging your scalp as if it would diminish the questions pooling within your skull. Your eyes squeezed shut, tension possessing your bones, struggling to soothe the restlessness of your body. You should be excited, eager for the second game, but your nerves were frayed, strangely unsettled. Risk typically entertained you—but with other people’s lives at stake, it dulled. Regardless, you assured yourself you would revert to normal tomorrow.

“Are you alright?” The soft voice interrupted the course of silence, your eyes flying toward another bed opposite of you, a bunk lower—the familiar gaze of the tiebreaker connected to your own, turned on his side to better inspect you. You hadn’t even realized his presence there before lights out.

You didn’t expect anyone to be awake at this hour, the dormitory teeming with utter quiet, leaving you embarrassed that someone witnessed your restlessness—noticed your conflicted state.

“Of course,” You confirmed smoothly, brushing off the question, heart hammering at being caught. You avoided the piercing stare sent your direction, feeling the sheer awkwardness creep onto you—something startling about his eyes. “Just can’t sleep, is all.”

“I see,” He acknowledged, giving a slight nod of his head, mulling over the words. “If you’re worried about tomorrow, don’t be. Just try to get some sleep, and start tomorrow off fresh.”

“Thanks,” You dipped your head, the question of why so many people shared their kindness with you dwelling your brain, offering you warmth when you were so cold, it ate away at your resolve. “I’ll try.”

You offered a sort-of smile, nodding again to confirm to even yourself you were fine, everything was okay. Back colliding with the plush of the mattress, you cozied yourself underneath the thin blanket provided to you, rolled onto your side. Your eyes fluttered closed, soaking in the comfort and easing your mind.

The next day, you held a place ahead of Eun-Shin, in an organized line to be served a box of pre-made food, paired with a bottled water. You accepted the items, sparing barely a glance at the guard handing it to you, promptly retreating to the stairs by your respective bed, opening the packaged food. You stared blankly at the food, scraping through it using the spork, waiting for Eun-Shin to join you. Were you really wanting him to join you or did you just expect him to?

“You should eat,” Encouraged one, that’s all you knew him as, holding his own meal and drink within his hands, positioned in front of you, your eyes drawn to his face, surprised by his presence.

“It’s fine. I’ll let someone else have it,” You assured, casting one, final glance at the food before covering it with the lid once more, sealing it away. You wrung your hands, strangely nervous under his eyes, something so intimidating about him that you couldn’t help but be intrigued—a thrum of anticipation striking your chest.

“Are you sure?”

Before you could respond, Eun-Shin lounged beside you on the stairs, sliding the tin lid from the container. You pushed your food into his hands, eager to remove the weight from your hands. “Take this. I don’t want it,” You explained, hands cradling your face when the object left your care.

“Are you gonna introduce me to your friend here?” Eun-Shin raised an eyebrow, chewing a bite of food and savoring the taste, the end of his spork waved toward the tiebreaker.

“One. Read the patch,” You instructed, the patch an obvious signification of his label.

“I’m Eun-Shin,” He extended a hand, clearly referencing his actual name, offering a handshake to the male, something within his eyes calculative.

“Young-Il,” One took the hand, firmly giving it a shake, a friendly smile on his face. The handshake appeared to signal more than just a friendly introduction, a tension you couldn’t pinpoint. And as the three of you conversed back and forth, you observed the two skeptically.

Conversation simmered to a close as the newly trio finished eating—or at least Eun-Shin, and Young-Il, as he introduced, were, the latter of the two deciding to approach some other contestants to get a better feel for the environment and what was to come, promising updates to you—saying such while his eyes only acknowledged you. Eun-Shin’s posture shifted, a questioning glimmer in his eyes.

“He’s weird, don’t you think?” He mentioned, eyes flickering between the details of your face and the area said person chatted, speaking animatedly with the previous winner, their discussion unknown to you—but it did entice your curiosity.

“As weird as anyone else in here,” You shrugged, eyes fixated on the 001 tag on the back of his jacket, a lump of intrigue puddling your skull. Within the confines of this hell hole, all of them were sinners, bound by fate to be unhinged, a desperation that reached inhumane standards. Your mouth welcomed a sip of water, eyebrow quirking. “What makes you say that?”

“Just seems off,” Eun-Shin claimed, eyes averting to his clasped hands, recalling a thought you weren’t aware of. “He seems… dangerous.”

An amused laugh could’ve escaped your lips at the statement—this entire circumstance was dangerous. Compared to the uncertainty of everything, Young-Il would be the least of your concerns. “Danger doesn’t scare me,” You retorted, donning an amused smile. If he was trying to instill fright, it would only prove futile, given your motives for even obliging with these games—it excited you.

He shot you a serious look. “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t trust him,” He sighed, shaking his head dismissively, surrendering to your indifference, making you ponder what he perceived that left him guarded. “Just be careful if you hang around him, yeah?”

You nodded slowly while processing the statement, neck craning to examine him, features puzzled- brows knitted. “What makes you care what happens? We aren’t friends,” You pressed, a small persistence in your pursuit of solitude, one more attempt to push him away, for better or worse.

“We’re partners, though,” He reasoned, causing you even more confusion, but you listened silently, toying with the idea. Being teammates would supply benefits for both of you. “Next game, let’s team up. We’ll help each other.”

“What if you can’t trust me?” You rebutted, mirth swirling in the depths of [E/C] eyes, the corners of your lips twitching upward in the slightest. You gauged his reaction, awaiting the hesitancy—awaiting him to revoke the invitation.

“I’ll get you back then,” Eun-Shin remarked, elbowing you in the side, his mood radiating, feeling the rays of it infect your mood, almost sickeningly so. Even in the dimmest of moments, there was light.

“Not if you’re dead,” You challenged, deadpan, strict in allowing genuine happiness to infect you—but even you couldn’t deny the feelings seeping into your heart, the weight of empathy and blossoming friendships. How could you have predicted this outcome when dialing that number?

“Because you’ll be dead with me,” He argued, your expression heavily amused despite the grim possibility looming ahead.

Eyes were lured to the altercation unfolding in the center of the dormitory. Player 124 restrained 333’s arms, the latter squirming in his grasp, hands feebly attempting to claw at anything they could reach. 124’s companion, the lavender-haired boy, struck the flesh of his face relentlessly, bruising the supple skin until he slammed to the floor, his violence not finishing there as he launched his foot at 333’s body, distributing all his strength into each kick.

Your hands twitched, about to jump to your feet and intervene mindlessly, but Eun-Shin stopped you, an arm stretched across your form, being a gate to obstruct your movements. “Don’t,” He muttered, glaring at the scene, indifferent to the duo practically trampling the other player. “You can’t go up against two guys,” His statement didn’t relent in spiking your irritation, but you remained sat on the stair, jaw clenched.

“Why don’t you get up then?” You grumbled, smacking the limb away from you.

“Why do you care?” Eun-Shin raised an eyebrow, a faux puzzlement within his features, tone surprisingly mocking as if daring you to oppose. “I thought you didn’t care about anyone—what about the prize money you need so much?”

“You’re right. I don’t,” You agreed, nails digging into your skin to divert the irritation singing your veins. After all, he was right, you shouldn’t be getting involved in nonsensical matters of other people—people you didn’t care about, strangers to you.

“Anyway, I don’t think we should make enemies in here. Let’s stay as neutral as possible,” He planned, nodding his head decisively. “We’re an X and O team, so it makes sense, right?“

“You’re right,” You sighed, head propped against your palm, eyes squinted at the violence.

“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?” Your posture straightened when you heard the sound of his voice, focus centered on the familiar player striding toward the trio, a confidence in his stride. Of course, it made sense as to why it would be him to intervene—he was a likable person, the peacemaker type sort-of, caring about others. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners. And two against one?” His movements paused, flashing a judging stare, eyes coldly sweeping over them. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shit hole too?” 230 raised his arms, pushing them down again in a swift and erratic motion, approaching the one to interrupt them, his patch tainted by the blood of other’s. “Dude, stop running your mouth,” His hands mimicked a blabbering mouth, gesturing in Young-Il’s face. “And take care of your own damn kids.”

“What did you just say?” One’s expression seemed to turn colder, cold indifference evident within his eyes, a quiet fury you wouldn’t want to be at the receiving end of, although a shred of you admired the courage he harbored to rise, rather than sit back and let the events conspire—you being too closeted from your feelings to be capable. You leaned in closer, eyes witnessing the scene with bated breath.

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kid,” Purple hair persisted, taking a brave step forward.

Young-Il grabbed his neck, fingers stiff against a pressure point on his nape, rendering him almost entirely immobile. His accomplice joined the fight to provide support, unable to accomplish even a single punch before one delivered a sharp, directed kick above his ankle, 124 cradling the limb in his hands, barking out in pain. Sending a final blow to his knee, 124’s back hit the floor, moaning in pain while he rolled across it.

“I told you, he’s dangerous,” Eun-Shin whispered, your eyes being peeled away from the events occurring beyond you, wanting nothing more than to roll your eyes at the comment—why was he so insistent?

“Okay, he knows how to fight, I’ll give you that,” You responded, tone low, so they wouldn’t escape to prying ears. “But when you think about it, we’re all just as dangerous to one another. Look at the situation we’re in.”

“I know, I know, but come on, it’s not normal to have that much precision in combat, think about it,” Your temporary partner insisted, motioning with his eyes to the altercation happening before them—where 230’s face was being pummeled, body slung across the floor when the exchange finished. Crouching to his level, Young-Il settled hard fingers around his throat, fist raised in threat while his opponent sputtered.

“I’m sorry,” Choked 230, fingers making a flimsy attempt at prying his hand off. “Please… Let me go…”

The dormitory erupted with claps as Young-Il returned to full stature, his grasp on the player abandoned, processing the praise oozing from fellow players. Even you found your hands smacking together in tandem with the crowd, a bubbly feeling spilling into your veins, uplifting your spirits—a rush, but not from adrenaline.

His eyes lifted from the floor, catching yours instantly, being situated in his direct line of view, as if he had known where to look from the start. You acknowledged the stare with a curt nod, forcing a subtle smile to speak wordless approval—like a good job. His shoulders settled slightly after that, the tension diminishing in his muscles, a sort-of relieved expression coating his face.

Head bowed, a bashful smile creeping onto his face from the overwhelming support, his hand traced the back of his head, retreating from the center of the room promptly, haste in escaping the attention. Your eyes followed, curiosity engulfing them— and if you were a cat, your lives were sure to run out.

Your clapping slowly came to a halt as you noticed Eun-Shin’s silence, his hands not in a clap, not moving at all, his expression rid of amusement. “What’s wrong?” You pried, an eyebrow quirked.

“I just don’t trust him,” Eun-Shin shook his head, disregarding the conversation completely. Looking closely, you could notice the clench in his jaw, the twitch in his brow.

“What happened to being neutral? Not making enemies?”

“We’re not enemies, I just don’t trust him,” He clarified matter-of-factly, appearing satisfied with that response, ending the conversation short, and leaving you to sit there, trying to configure the deeper meaning.

Arousing the players’ attention, the buzzer signaled that the doors were opening, a barrage of guards entering, the overhead voice greeting the players, robotically animated, “Attention, please! The second game will begin momentarily. Please follow the instructions from our staff,” Guards stationed themselves in a line at the center of the room, weapons on full display—to intimidate the players, ward them away from the idea of protest. Truly addressing you like the trash you were.

Eun-Shin helped you up, the pair of you walking toward the middle, as everyone else was, but maintaining a safe distance from the guards. Your chest tightened, unsure what to expect, but fright wasn’t a feeling that struck you. You studied the contestants around you, scanning for familiar faces amongst the surge of players. Young-Il - 456 - 222, all littered the crowd.

Twenty-five stood next to you, a grim seriousness to his expression, brows creased together, a look on his face you wouldn’t typically see, the sight causing you query.

Bright pastels blessed your vision as the players traveled up the stairway, in an orderly line. You were gifted the view of the back of 222’s head, mimicking her footsteps. Left, then right. Eun-Shin hovered behind you, analyzing the pathways as his shoes padded against each stair.

Eventually, you all arrived at a set of doors, which opened to reveal a large room, two circular rainbows decorating the floor, various guards stationed on either side. “Welcome to your second game,” The intercom echoed, the players’ minds brewing. “This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes.”

Eun-Shin poked you, signaling to accompany him. The pair of you conducted a sweep over the other players, picking and choosing who would be the most fitting. Unknowing of what the game would include, picking people proved difficult—but you didn’t really care about who was on your team, the less you knew the better. The risk could only heighten the experience.

You familiarized yourself with your new teammates. One female, patch labeled 30, and two males, their patches reading 77 and 155. Eun-Shin handled the duration of talking, having the friendlier demeanor out of you two. In a way, you felt pushed out of the loop, having the conversation steered from you, standing still and assuring yourself this was for the best.

“Can I join your team?” A small voice grabbed your attention, making you shift to face the person it emitted from. 222. A pang of sympathy hit you at the recollection of her pregnant state, but your team had filled quick—as well, no one in it seemed necessarily useful.

“We’re full now, but I’ll help you find a better team,” You assured calmly, letting your makeshift ‘partner’ know you would return in a moment, unsure why you made the decision to aid her. Stealing a glance at the X patch on her chest, your stomach knotted, the O patch suddenly feeling heavier.

Sifting through the bustle of the crowd, shoulders narrowly dodging other players, her hand grasped the fabric of your jacket to keep balance, your eyes scouring the crowd, though you weren’t sure what to look for. Soon enough, your eyes spotted a patch reading 001—a familiar enough face that you felt 222 would be in capable hands, even if Eun-Shin would state otherwise.

“She’s joining your group,” You stated soundly, gently nudging the girl toward them, disrupting whatever conversation consumed them previously. Your face exuded the lack of willingness to anything less than.

“Uh, sorry, we’ve already got five people,” 390 gestured to their newest acquaintance, eyes drifting between the pair, an awkward and apologetic smile strewn on his face. You glowered behind the girl, lips pressed into a thin line, your empty gaze analyzing Young-Il to occupy the seconds, his eyes just as cold, unsuspecting.

222’s hand settled against her rounded stomach, giving the group a pleading stare. “Please help me. I’m pregnant,” She persisted, their eyes trailing to her stomach on reflex, as if to confirm her words.

The shift in their features was evident, the discussion of whether to let her join blatant. They wouldn’t have the heart to turn away someone pregnant, remains of respect still intact within their morals. Spinning around, 222’s head dipped, thanking you for the help. You offered a small smile in return before sauntering off, ignorant to the rest of the group teeming with curiosity. Eun-Shin had been speaking animatedly to your team when you regrouped, a part of you wishing to do the same.

“Time for team selection is up. The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one,” The intercom explained to the players, cogs turning in your brain as it processed. “Here are the mini games; Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, spinning top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini games and cross the finish line in five minutes.”

“What game do you want?” Eun-Shin’s eyes were directed to you, gifting you the first pick. His features were a mixture of nervousness and an unusual confidence, his brain at work on unknown subjects. On the other hand, your heart pulsed, the speed at which it beat picking up, perspiration slight on your hands—a heavenly combination, but a mere buzz compared to the rush of adrenaline.

“I’ll do Ddakji,” You answered with ease, thrumming your fingers along your knee as you enjoyed the feeling washing over you, mischief clouding your mind. “You?”

His eyes were contemplative for a moment, squinting as he thought. “I’ll do Gong-gi,” He shifted, abruptly turning his head to ask the other players their roles between the last three options, discussing briefly until they reached a conclusion. His eyes connected to yours, flashing a small smile. “30 is doing Jegi. 77 is doing Spinning Top, and 155 will do Flying Stone.”

You nodded, showing your approval on the matter. “Sounds good.”

“Team one and two, get ready,” The overhead speech sounded, the respective teams lining up on opposite sides, their feet being cuffed together—a mutual effort having to be put forth.

You watched in wait of the tribulations to occur, to which you would merely observe, sit there, uncaring and unflinching if their bodies fell. Their arms hugged, swallowing any fear cursing their being, the smallest beads of sweat dribbling down their faces to display stress.

“Do you think they’ll do well?” You could hear Eun-Shin’s inquisitive murmur to the rest of your team, their answers not privy to you—you weren’t upset, you instilled into your head, you should’ve expected to be sidelined- you weren’t even friends, only a beneficial exchange of resources, both of you sharing an utter lack of skill. It was the familiarity from the first day that kept you together.

“Let the game begin,” The feminine voice declared, a shot springing from a square guard’s pistol, the time’s devastating tick beginning its toll— the players hobbling forward, carefulness in their walk, chanting out “One, two,” to track each step until they arrived to the first mini game.

Your eyes darted from the clock back to one of the teams, watching the designated player brush his lips against the blue square piece, striving for even a wisp of luck, focused on the opposing origami settled on the flooring. Slamming the blue onto the folded paper, it successfully flipped the red tile, the men exchanging cheerful glances - already off to a good start, wasting no time at all. Peering over to the team opposite, their side wasn’t as lucky, their succession having not been accomplished.

“Please do not step over the line,” The intercom reminded, the leading team trying their hand at flying stone. Missing the first throw, they released disgruntled groans, the luck not accompanying them to the next game. Arms drawing close, they wobbled forward, tripping over their feet and collapsing, creating a hard-to-watch spectacle for the next participants. Seeds of mischief infected your mind at the sight.

“It’s pitiful, in a way,” Eun-Shin whispered, attention flocking back to after the conversation with the others grew dull. Amused eyes flew to him, indifferent to what he spoke, the importance of it. “The time is too short, and there’s so many hurdles..”

“Your gong-gi better be good then,” You commented, planting your expectations, assured by your own skill within your chosen game- the premise being simple, an intentional decision.

“Come on, you picked the easiest one,” He stated, and your lips twitched, the words ringing true.

“But I’m relying on luck,” You provided a frail defense, undermining the skillset to weaken his confidence, keeping hush about your knowledge of ‘tactics’ in the game, “There’s no tactic to it.”

“You… don’t have any tactic?”

Your smile widened at the uncertainty dwelling his tone, directing your attention back to the struggling players. “Don’t you think it’s more fun without one?” You pondered, eyes fixed on the team stuck on flying stone, studying the panic that slowly intruded their faces, time ticking on carelessly.

“Not if it gets me killed,” Eun-Shin’s eyebrow twitched, sweat ridden hands clasped together, disbelief pooling his being. Only amusement seeped vivaciously from you, thoroughly entertained by his reactions.

“All of us would die with you, don’t feel too bad,” You added and motioned to the dampness of his palms, the only evidence of his fragmented nerves. “Are you gonna be able to play gong-gi with those?”

“Are you good at gong-gi?” His whisper stunned you, eyes skeptically flitting to him, the question only raising hesitancy within you.

“Why do you ask?”

“If you want to test your luck, shouldn’t you do something more difficult? The stakes are higher,” Eun-Shin’s composure emanated confidence, shoulders straightening, as if proposing a challenge, something you wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - turn away from. You did less stakes only for their wellbeings. “Ddakji is easy to come back from. Gong-gi, on the other hand,” His gaze landed on the team struggling at said game, a gesture to show proof of his claim.

“Okay. I’ll play gong-gi then,” You agreed, [E/C] eyes sweeping across him, the tension within his body appearing soothed- the pace of your heartbeat increasing as you shouldered the most substantial gamble of your life. Anxious, but thrilled. “Seems like you’re too scared.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to be the reason we fail,” He confessed, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, sight downcasted. “I know I’m a coward.”

“You are, but you also voted out,” You could feel the weight of the O patch, the bloodshed it consisted of, stomach bunched into knots at the toll of your decision. “You didn’t wanna be here, so it only makes sense for me to carry that weight. Well, as long as no one else kills us first, right?”

“I think you can do it,” Eun-Shin asserted. “You’re good at stressful things.”

The timer eventually beeped, signaling the end of the first round, gunshots raining down on the failed players, presenting a stark reminder to what would occur if you were unable to cross the finish line. Your teammates instinctively ducked from the sound, sheltering themselves. Eyebrows knitted, you viewed the gore blankly, distancing yourself from the severity and permanence of it all.

“The following players have been eliminated. Players 16, 45, 178, 189,” The intercom listed, indifferent to the brutality. “198, 254, 286, 341, 395, and 416.”

“We should have left!” Someone stood, shouting defiantly toward the side of the room your team occupied. Everyone’s eyes flocked to the perpetrator, his eyes drifting from person to person. “We’re all gonna die now! We’re all gonna die because of those who voted to continue!” The knot in your stomach tightened, but a sick part of you reveled in the detriment of it all. “What are you going to do now? You think you can survive? Look at them!”

You glanced at Eun-Shin, you didn’t know why- perhaps a shrivel of you hoping he would say something in disagreement to offer a semblance of assurance, but he remained silent, staring down at his hands, a silent agreement lingering in the air. The man spoke correctly, after all.

“Attention, please. Players, please wait while we tidy up the venue,” On cue, guards proceeded into the room, operating a forklift donning a set of coffins, pink taping stretched across the sides, meshing to form a bow at the lid. Your eyes traced the bodies aligned within the circular rainbow, dried blood splattered across their tracksuits, the guards carrying coffins to place them inside. The scene didn’t quell anyone’s unease on the games.

“Open it,” Ordered a guard to the subordinates, who rose to full stature, in slight defiance. “That’s an order,” The pair of circles pried the lid from the coffin respectively, showcasing the body inside to the triangle. They peered in, lodging two more gunshots into the flesh- the reason of such, you were oblivious, but it left an eery impression.

“The next teams, please get ready,” The intercom chimed, stirring you from the daze that encapsulated you, the thud of your heart bleeding out across your eardrums.

Twenty-five tugged your jacket, rising to his feet assuredly—having the easiest game to accomplish, of course his worries diminished. Brow quirked, he smiled slightly, which didn’t dissuade the anxiety pooling your stomach, a light buzz of adrenaline supplying some comfort. “Getting scared?”

Standing beside your group, the majority of players observing carefully, you shot him a soft glare. “I’m not a coward like you,” You declined, shaking your head to dismiss the brave claim. Gaze averting, you scanned the terrain, processing the pitied stares you received, exhaling to free yourself of care. If you died, so be it.

The group you were apart of stepped up to one of the rainbows, determined smiles exchanged among them, a sense of courage possessing their spirits. You were smushed between 77 and 155, arms entangled, 30 and Eun-Shin on either side of the line—your movements being reliant on others felt odd.

“Teams three and four, get ready,” Your eyes slid to the panicked faces stationed across from you, 120’s and the elderly woman’s recognizable faces within it. 95 seemed to be on the verge of tears, mustering every last bit of restraint to stay composed- another woman prayed incessantly, chanting out.

“We’ve got this,” Eun-Shin encouraged, acting bravado for the team’s sake. “Don’t panic, don’t stress.”

The gunshot rang, your team making hurried, but synced, steps toward the first game. The guard clutched a rectangular shape, the ddakji pieces resting inside, waiting to be taken. Eun-Shin picked the blue square, the guard dropping the red, flat on the ground in response, ignoring the sounds from the opposite team.

He stiffened, eyes narrowing in concentration, adjusting the ddakji piece in his hand before slamming it down- successfully flipping the rival piece. The guard created an O symbol with their arms, the intercom announcing they’d passed.

You hobbled forward, adrenaline flooding your veins the closer you got to your game, the time’s tick dreadfully slow. Only one more game, and then you’re up.

155 was quick to retrieve the stone, knees bending to crouch, envisioning the throw as he modified the aim, you watched, spread from him—as far as the restraints allowed—granting him more space to perfect the toss. Seconds- that dragged on like hours -escaped you, his hand finally giving a steady jerk, the stone smacking the piece in the center, tumbling over. Assuring their pass, the guard gestured an O, your group teeming with smiles.

Courage filled your teammates as you waddled to gong-gi, the 4 minutes that remained, a good sign, and the eruption of cheers serving as encouragement. You slid the pieces into your hand, the guard positioning the platform on the floor.

You leveled with the surface, tossing the five weighted pieces onto it. You tossed one into the air, slipping another into your clutches, repeating the motions until you missed a catch—the purposeful dodge quite evident to everyone spectating, 3:40 bright on the clock, drawing concerned glances.

“Sorry, my hand slipped,” You excused feebly, lacking any seriousness to your tone, restarting the ordeal from the beginning before you, again, slipped up on the second round, the pieces scattering across the black form and another fail dispelling from the intercom. Your teammates panicked, stressed from the reoccurring fails.

“Take this more seriously, come on, we still have two games left,” 30 scolded, eyebrows pulled near, fingers wrung together to soothe the anxiety that bubbled into irritation.

Blank [E/C] eyes caught a glimpse of the speaker. “My hands must be sweaty,” The palms of your hands scraped across the fabric of your jacket erratically, frantic to dry your hands.

“Okay, stop, just try again,” Eun-Shin lead, prying your hands from the clothing and guiding them back to the board. “We still have time, don’t panic.”

You threw the five pieces across the small table, tossing one into the air and hastily retrieving another, mimicking the motions repeatedly until all of them grouped in your hand. Again, you scattered the pieces along the board, propelling one into the air and then snaking two more pieces into your grasp— cycling through the movements, the risk of dropping them increasing with each round. Finally reaching the climax of the game that would decide your fates, dormant beads balanced on your knuckles. Eyes fixated on them, you thought briefly- you could end everything here.

You heaved the pieces into the air, your teammates looking on with concern strewn on their features, sweat lining their skin, and you caught the gong-gi toys in your fist, unraveling your fingers to show the guard the achievement.

“Pass.”

Your teammates cheered- and you could hear fellow contestants praising the efforts demonstrated, a flutter of something entangling your chest at the connection everyone shared in that moment. As you neared the next game, your eyes tore through the crowd, the prided faces of individuals eliciting a genuine smile from you, the warmth overwhelming.

77’s hands weaved the string around the top, doing so quickly but cautiously, not wanting to take the unnecessary risks you did (on purpose!)—2:30 seconds remained, providing a decent amount of time for them to secure a place passed the finish line.

“Don’t panic, it’s okay if you mess up, clearly,” 155 soothed, casting a pointed glance at you. 77 nodded, looking between the two of you, fingers poised around the top delicately before he projected it across the floor- the toy steadying itself by rapidly spinning, more of the crowd rising to witness the events with open eyes.

“You got it!” 30 beamed, prepared for the final role upon them, the five of you folding your arms more closely, an unspoken surge of certainty rushing through all of you.

“You must kick the jegi five times,” The overhead instructed, 30 pulling the reflective toy into her hands, giving it a gentle pitch into the air, leg positioned to strike it. The thud of her shoe hitting the toy grasped you, the last testament to if you survived or not—something about your life in the hold of someone else filling you with even more adrenaline, attention narrowed on the pound of your heart.

“That’s five!” She cheered, gripping 77- if they were unrestrained, she would’ve leapt for joy.

Eun-Shin grinned, giving 155 a slight shake. “Let’s go, we can finish this, we have plenty of time,” He gestured them to move forward in tandem, 1:30 minutes flashing on the clock, the chants of the crowd spurring you to move faster- the feeling encompassing you the greatest rush you’d ever felt.

Once the ribbon at the end of the line was torn in two, you could hear the shouts of the spectators, all in mutual excitement at the victory, even your teammates cried out, an embrace shared between the group that was unexpectedly kind, an affection nearly foreign to you.

You spotted 222 apart of the mass, hopping eagerly like everyone else around her- to the concern of her team-sending a smile in your direction that you managed to return, a genuine one. The double victory proof that everyone could succeed.

After your ankles were freed, the teams reigning triumph were escorted out by some guards, the pep in all of your steps evident- the close encounter with death ushering relief into their systems at what didn’t happen, savoring the closeness to their companions within the present, unknowing if the next game would shatter it.

“Good job, everyone,” Eun-Shin complimented the lingering players, determination a flood in his eyes, but a sense of unease still drummed within them.

Back in the clutches of the dormitory, everyone distanced themselves, retreating to the usual places they lounged. However, the remainder of your teammates joined you at your spot, involved in conversation with Eun-Shin that didn’t require your input. Your head inclined, being supported by the frame of the beds, quiet as your rush ebbed, consumed by a daze.

More and more people filed into the room, a silence washing over the dormitory, the dwellers talking amongst one another- the shock of the previous moments diminishing as they cozied inside. [E/C] eyes studied the blood staining your shoe, the white now speckled and tarnished by a putrid red. You wondered if that had been 222’s fate—or even Young-Il’s, the regret of your vote clinging.

“Come on, cheer up, we got through it,” Eun-Shin’s elbow jabbed your side playfully, his new companions’ eyes shifted to gauge your reaction, lips pulled into a frown at the gesture. “It makes me think we could get through anything,” He smiled at the other three, the trio laughing in agreement, but the comment puzzled you.

Eventually, the door opened one last time, presenting the final batch of players to make it out- 222 among them, a touch of relief easing the tension in your posture. Eun-Shin hesitated, the words on his tongue simmering as his attention, like everyone else’s, landed on the group. You managed a small smile as they plodded by, their own, heavy eyes trailing across the contestants left warily- 222 shooting a little wave in your direction.

After everyone settled, piecing together frayed nerves, the buzzer blared, the door making way for the pink-clad guards. “Congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game. Here are the results,” The square clicked a button, the lights dimming in an instant- the piggy bank eating more stacks of cash, persuasive to the temptations of players. “In the second game, 110 players were eliminated. The prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. Since there are 255 players remaining, each person’s share is 78,823,530 won.”

“It’s still under 100 million?”

“It’s not even 80 million.”

“Only 110 people died? Is that all?” Everyone’s intentions were keen to the money, frantic and indifferent toward the bloodshed. Morals wore thin, desperation blatant. It reminded you of the person you were before arriving, the moments spent here supplying an opposite effect. “Did you count them right?”

“That’s all? But you shot all those people!”

“Count them again!” 100 demanded, the features on his face wrinkled, soured.

“I completely understand your disappointment. However, we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not,” The square mediated, the doors behind him parting to allow a pair of guards to roll the vote buttons inside. “Whether to continue the games for a bigger prize or to stop here is entirely your choice,” Circles arranged the buttons in the front center of the room, just below the stairs. “Feel free to exercise your right to choose in a democratic manner.”

Hand flat against the patch on your chest, you were certain on what decision you’d make, standing to your feet and heading to the back of the room, huddled among everyone else- a flock of aimless sheep in a pen. Your eyes portrayed no indications of your partner, quickly abandoning question about his whereabouts in exchange for rivaling thoughts, always engulfed by the space.

“This time, the vote will begin with Player 001,” The guard explained. “Player 001, please cast your vote.”

Your eyes were fixed on him, ambling toward the red and blue buttons, a sureness in his stride. The sound of the button resounded, filling the spacious room, his vote slotted under the X, surrendering the circular patch for an X one. You witnessed a few more people strut forward, making their own decisions of whether they should stay or leave, the votes maintaining a steady balance between the options.

“Player 011.”

Heaving a sigh, you approached the set of buttons, hand pressing your chosen button without hesitation. You peeled the weighted O patch off, trading it for an X one and flattening it to the velcro. You stood close to Young-Il on the red side, his friendly smile an assurance that your decision was proper, melting away any anxieties.

“What changed your mind?” His cool eyes darted to you, using this chance to speak to you without interruption. His eyes traced your features under the blue-red lighting, memorizing each crease.

“Just seemed right,” You brewed, lips pressed into a thin line, [E/C] eyes studying the intricacies of his face briefly before peering at the voters- joining either red or blue. “You?”

He nodded in response to your reasoning, not acting on the curiosity spawned in his eyes. “I’m just ready to be done with this, I think most of us are,” He sighed, wringing his hands, a dry chuckle leaving his throat—his sentiment something you agreed on.

“Player 025,” You shifted your attention from the conversation to Eun-Shin, his back facing you. His gaze strayed between the votes casted, back to the buttons present- finally pressing the O, adding yet another vote to supply the blue. Your mouth hung slightly ajar, the decision stunning you.

“Did you not know?” Young-Il inclined his head toward you, the volume of his voice low, clearly referencing your so-called partner’s vote, diverting your attention.

“No,” You admitted. “It doesn’t affect me though.”

Dark eyes studied you, and it felt as if he could see right through your words, staring into depths even you weren’t aware of. “He should’ve told you, but I understand your feelings,” He spoke, a hand hovering over your back as an attempt at comfort, smiling assuredly and retracting the light touch.

The corner of your lip quirked, the gentle motion oddly considerate. “I appreciate it, Young-Il,” You bowed your head in thanks, bashful under his scrutiny- his undivided attention placed on you.

His eyes shone in realization. “I don’t think I ever got your name,” He pointed out, a finger gestured toward you, lips slightly curved- the thought having never crossed your mind. “I got your friend’s but never yours.”

“We aren’t friends,” You corrected softly, stealing a peak at him, the defiance in your eyes small. “But it’s [Y/N],” You answered after a moment of pause, a slight bafflement riddling your features. “Not even Eun-Shin knows that.”

His eyebrow twitched, a gleam of something unknown swirling his eyes, expression unreadable to you. “I’ll be sure to remember it then.”

You both stared back at the wavering votes, a player having just casted his vote, the O’s snatching the leading place—33 to the 36, leaving everyone in suspense of what side would win.

“Everyone!” 456 commanded the crowd’s attention, no matter the separation of the groups, gesturing his arms to gather everyone’s focus. Young-Il left your side, approaching the walkway- at the line drawn between the sides, your eyes following unabashed.

“Are you all out of your minds?” He shouted, scanning each of the faces scattering the O section. “You still want to keep going after watching all those people die? Who’s to say you won’t die in the next game?” He stressed, irritation puddling his features, baffled at their decisions.

“We have to stop,” He insisted, striding down the line, his cold gaze sweeping across the players. “We’ll all die if we keep going! Come to your senses, and leave with that money. You’ve got to survive first, or there won’t be a next step,” His arms swung, trying to drill the explanation into their heads- desperate to escape.

“What do you think we can do with a mere 70 million?” 100 stepped forward, his determination to stay unaffected. “I don’t know how much you owe, but for most people here, that doesn’t even cover 10% of their debt. Am I right?” He looked around, pointing to the crowd, seeking approval from fellow O’s. “There’s no next step for us! That money won’t change anything!”

“With that amount of money, I won’t last long,” A member of his posse spat, his finger aimed at the golden hue of light above them, stacks and stacks of cash illuminated.

“It was 25 million after the first game, now it’s 78 million. After one game, the amount more than tripled!” 100 emphasized, steering the conversation in his favor. “If we play one more game, the prize will be at least 240 million!”

“But I can’t do this anymore,” A girl whimpered, your eyes scouring the area for the source- finding that anxious girl from earlier, 95. Tears puddled on her cheeks, the dampness glistening beneath the crimson lighting. You swallowed thickly, the sob lacing her voice tying knots in your stomach. “Please. Please let me out of here…” She blinked, glancing away from the array of eyes fixed on her. “I really want to go home… I don’t want to die…”

“Young lady, you’re young, so you’d probably have another chance,” Another man offered sympathy, watery eyes squinted as he maintained a semblance of composure. “But I don’t.”

95’s fingers tangled, clasping in plea. “Please,” She croaked, trembling.

“My family and I have no future,” He sniffled, expanding on his perspective. “My business failed, and now I owe over 500 million. I’ve got to make at least half of that here if I want a real shot at a fresh start.”

“What if you die here?” Young-Il interjected. “If you die here, your family won’t even get your body. Then it’d be the end for you and your family,” He raised his voice, and you could visibly see the gears shifting in the previous man’s head, staring down at the floor- in shame or contemplation. “Don’t you see?”

“Don’t get fucking scared!” A man released, not sharing the sentiment, perhaps not understanding it. “Ddakji, red light, green light, spinning top. It’s not like the games are that difficult,” He spun around, lacking empathy toward the eliminated players. “Look,” He directed everyone’s gaze. “There are still 255 players. Way more than half of us survived! We’ve made it this far, so let’s do it one more time!”

Your eyes connected with Eun-Shin’s, both of your features cold and saddled with the realization of the awkwardness, now situated on opposite sides of the spectrum- where tensions were rising. After every moment you’d shared with him, it felt strange seeing him with the blue patch, the choice seeming out of character. But evidently, this place stirred change- the chants of the people to stay evidence of that, disregarding the grave consequences.

Young-Il garnered your attention by resting a hand on your shoulder, muscles giving a jolt at the unexpected contact. “Are you okay?” His face served as a strange comfort amidst the morphing surroundings, scrunched with concern as his eyes darted around your face.

“I’m alright, I was just surprised by his choice,” You explained, features troubled- brows furrowed, lips pressed thin. Your voice lowered, addressing yourself more so than Young-Il, “He never struck me as the type.”

“This place changes people,” Young-Il sighed, gaze casted toward the rise and fall of the votes- an almost disappointed gleam in his eyes. He then looked to you, providing a hopeful expression. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses, if we don’t leave today.”

“Maybe,” You sighed, accepting defeat.

The votes between O and X rampaged onward, remaining at a steady balance until the number of O’s became overwhelming, outnumbering the votes to leave. “The results are 139 for O and 116 for X,” The guard announced, dread washing over most of the X voters. On the other hand, you didn’t find yourself harboring any feelings of disappointment or relief, remaining unbothered. “Based on the majority vote, we’ll proceed to the third game tomorrow. Thank you.”

With that being said, you returned to your usual nesting place, the red patch on your chest gathering fleeting glances by O contestants. Eun-Shin approached you cautiously, lip jutted, awkward to speak to you.

“Are you scared to talk to me?” You prodded, looking up to him, unimpressed. Your voice appeared to surprise him as he situated himself beside you hastily. “What made you vote to stay?”

“Yesterday, remember? You decided to continue because of your debt, I’m doing the same,” Eun-Shin answered, wringing his hands, eyes dropping to the limbs before shifting to you. “What made you vote to leave?”

“It’s just a waste,” You shrugged, throwing out the first thing that came to mind to lessen the amount it appeared you care.

“Is it a risk you can’t take?” Eun-Shin challenged, bumping his shoulder against yours. He then offered a hand to you, a truce, that you could either accept or decline- a slight puzzlement consuming your face. “We’re still an X and O team, partners- all neutral?”

Your eyes drifted between the outstretched hand and his face, mulling over the words contemplatively.

“Only because you’re so insistent,” You smacked his hand away, refusing to shake it.

—

sorry to cut it off at this BUT. i wanted to put a chapter out for you guys 🤲

also i accidentally misarranged the sequence of events 💀 so pls ignore that it won’t happen again

anyway, thank you all for the love on this, hope you enjoy! (also i am so sorry if my characterization for in-ho is terrible 🤲😭)

[starmatzz]

𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐰/𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

bf!wooyoung x gf!reader | bit of pray/hunter kink

author's note: hii! thank you so much for all the notes and support! although it's not entirely my cup of coffee to write "x reader" stuff, i see that you guys like it, which motivates me :)

“Alright, you go hide, and I’ll count,” Wooyoung said with a mischievous smirk.

It was a lazy Saturday, the kind of day spent either engrossed in your own hobbies or tangled up together on the couch watching movies.

That is, until Wooyoung came up with the bright idea to play hide and seek. At first, you rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing him, but how could you say no to your adorable boyfriend?

As soon as Wooyoung closed his eyes and started counting, you glanced around the apartment, determined to find the perfect hiding spot. There was no way you were going to let him win.

You quickly made your way to your shared bedroom, slipping inside the closet and crouching down. Carefully, you pulled the door almost shut, leaving a small gap just big enough for you to peek through. Your heart raced with excitement as you tried to steady your breathing, determined to stay hidden.

“Twenty eight..twenty nine..thirty! I’m coming!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out, teasing and full of excitement.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, finding the whole situation amusing. It was silly, but it was fun—exactly the kind of thing that made being with Wooyoung so special.

However, as you listened to his footsteps echo through the apartment, your heart began to beat faster. Each step felt closer, and the anticipation of being found was starting to get to you. You bit your lip, trying to keep completely silent, but you could already feel the tension building.

“Where are you? Come out~” Wooyoung’s playful, sing-song voice echoed through the apartment, sending a wave of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His tone was teasing, almost mysterious, and you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as his footsteps grew louder, closer. It felt like your hiding spot was suddenly far too obvious, but you stayed completely still, determined to outlast him.

“My sweet doll… come out, I won’t bite~,” Wooyoung called out, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

Through the narrow gap in the closet door, you caught a glimpse of the bedroom door swinging open, reflected perfectly in the mirror across from you. Your breath hitched as you watched his figure step into the room.

“…Maybe,” he added with a sly chuckle, his footsteps slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. He moved with a mix of confidence and playfulness, scanning the room as if savoring the chase. You pressed yourself further into the shadows, your pulse racing as you tried to keep perfectly still.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to steady your breathing as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Suddenly, the thought of him finding you sent a nervous thrill through your body—you didn’t want to be caught. Not yet.

The sound of Wooyoung whistling filled the room, a soft, haunting tune that only heightened the tension. It was as if he was toying with you, drawing out the suspense on purpose. His movements and the teasing sound of his whistle made it feel like he was closing in, and every second felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s whistling stopped, and the silence that followed felt deafening. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt his gaze land on the closet—reflected in the mirror.

Your eyes widened in panic, watching as he turned to face the closet. A sly smirk tugged at his lips as he took slow steps toward it, like he already knew exactly where you were.

Your breath caught in your throat, every nerve in your body on edge as the gap in the door grew darker with each step he took.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if somehow that would make you invisible, shielding you from his inevitable discovery.

The silence was oppressive, stretching out endlessly as if time itself had stopped. You couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, and the absence of sound was almost worse than hearing him approach.

All that filled the void was the frantic pounding of your own heartbeat, so loud in your ears that you were certain he could hear it too.

You were so lost in the stillness, so focused on calming your racing heartbeat, that you didn’t even notice the closet door creak open.

When you finally opened your eyes, there he was—Wooyoung standing in front of you with that signature smirk, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Found you, doll~,” he purred, his tone dripping with playful satisfaction.

Wooyoung’s hand gently gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his smirk only widening as he took in your expression.

“What am I gonna do with you now, hm?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down your spine. His presence felt overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a little breathless under the weight of his gaze.

You swallowed hard, the tension between you two thick in the air. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Guess you’ll find out soon enough.” 

[iiluvtaylorrussell]

𝒜𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎

𝓇𝒶𝒻ℯ 𝓍 𝓀ℴℴ𝓀 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

The night had started like any other—loud music, bright lights, and an energy that you could feel . You could hear the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional shout mixed with flirtatious teasing. She stood in the center of it all radiant and magnetic in a little black lace dress that hugged her curves perfectly . Rafe couldn’t help but watch her from the sidelines, his gaze intense, an a look of admiration on his face and something deeper swirling in his chest.

She was with her friends, chatting and giggling , but he knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d get her away from them and to turn her attention to him. The pull between them was undeniable she was beautiful and he was drawn to her in a way that left him a little breathless.

Rafe ( text 12:30 AM )

You look fucking incredible tonight.

She glanced at her phone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she read his message. She quickly typed back

( 12:30 AM)

Thank you. I know

Rafe couldn’t help but grin at her confidence. She always had that effect on him, made him feel possessive. He hadn’t been around much that night, but he was beginning to feel the familiar feeling of jealousy. Not that he didn’t trust her—far from it. It was just that feeling of wanting to keep her all to himself. The night was hers to enjoy, but he knew the after-party was where the real fun would begin.

The music changed, the crowd shifting and starting to thin out as the night wore on. She excused herself from her group of girls her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Rafe, standing by the bar.

She walked toward him slowly, a playful smirk curling her lips. “So, are you gonna stare at me all night?”

Rafe’s smile was teasing, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were dark with a hint of desire. “Just making sure nobody else is getting any ideas.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips parting in a little laugh. “Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?” She stopped in front of him, leaning in just enough that the heat between them apparent.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached out, grabbing her by the wrist and placing his hand on her waist pulling her closer. His lips found hers in a kiss that was needy . An unspoken agreement to leave the noise and the crowd behind. He needed her. Now.

“ Were leaving your mine for the rest of the night “

She looked up at him through her lashes her heart racing. His words possessive, confident, and dripping with need.

“Oh, so now you’re giving me orders ? What if I don’t feel like leaving, Rafe?”

Rafe grins leaning down to kiss her neck then whisper in her ear “ baby that wasn’t a question“

He didn’t waste anymore time . Rafe took her hand and led her through the crowd, his grip firm . As they stepped outside, the cool night air hit their faces, but it only fueling the need that had been building between them all night.

They didn’t even make it into the car before Rafe had her pressed against the door kissing her again, this time with more need the heat between them rising.

With that, they were in the car, heading to his place—no more words, just the feeling of anticipation between them.

As soon as they walked through the door, rafe helped her remove her heels than he placed his hands on her hands on her hips. “You know, you could’ve at least let me finish my drink before dragging me out” she said.

Rafe smirked, getting up to close the door behind him and leaning against it, his eyes slowly trailing down her frame. “Trust me, you look way too good to be in a room full of people who don’t deserve to see you.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed at his words. “Still, you could’ve asked me instead of bossing me around.”

Rafe stepped closer, his voice dropping as his fingers brushed her waist. “Ask you? Princess , you’re mine. And if you think I’m letting anyone else have even a second of your attention tonight, you’re out of your mind.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t wanna let him win so easily. “ still haven’t heard an apology ”

Rafe grinned, grabbing the back of her thighs picking her up pulling her closer and flush against him. “You’ll forgive me in about five seconds. Trust me.”

[dragonsdendoodles]

Hey wait do you have any ideas/HCs for how Enoch felt/reacted the first time he was woken up by one of Horace's screaming fits when he initially moved to Ms. P's loop?

Asking because I lowkey wanna write another fic for them. There's the one singular one I wrote in 2023 and I haven't written anything for them since and methinks a hurt/comfort enorace fic miiight be fun

I have a (really old) fic draft of my own starting with that actually 👀 (please write that that would be so cute and I have so many drafts I’m never gonna finish please)

I think internally he panicked a little bit, because what else do you do when you wake up to someone upstairs screaming bloody murder. I do think it took a while for Enoch to fully warm up to the others though (because at least in my version of events Enoch was dangerously close to being kicked out of his old loop and at the beginning he was bitter enough from his old loop to be anticipating the same thing here) so he played it off like he didn’t just sprint up two flights of stairs because oh my god that sounds like my only friend here oh no and everyone else was like. Does he just hate all of us oh my god

But yeah no he was terrified. He was terrified and he will always be terrified by it and all the others will eventually realize the glaring and sulking back downstairs was very much a front purely intended to make them think he didn’t care when he very much did

Horace knows he cares because when Enoch can get to him first he wakes him up and tries to calm him down and will actually yell at the others for crowding around them because being overwhelmed by waking up the whole house really isn’t what Horace needs at the current moment thank you and when Enoch doesn’t get to him first and it’s Miss Peregrine keeping everyone else out the millisecond she lets the others in Enoch is right there to try to help any way he can.

He just didn’t do it the first time because he wasn’t expecting literally everyone else to also be there. But he really wanted to.

[crmsndragonwngss]

She did not, however, deny the Scientologist allegations…

[springtyme]

𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Simon catching baby fever, but you’re only roommates...

141 masterlist (there'll be a part two of this)

Before you, the only time Simon really left his flat when he was home on leave was to go to the gym or to go get groceries. 

He was content with this routine, he found comfort in the familiarity of it, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own space. Or at least that is what he told himself. This way of life had been sufficient for him for a long time, but as time went on he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. 

That is when Simon found himself considering the idea of getting a flatmate. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. On one hand, he enjoyed his independence and privacy. On the other hand, having someone else around the flat could be a good thing, and he does have an extra bedroom in the flat that’s just collecting dust. Maybe it would be a good idea… Maybe.

After much contemplation, Simon finally decided to take the plunge and start looking. He posted an ad online, and waited for responses to come in. To his surprise, he received a good handful, he had actually not anticipated that that many, if any, would be interested in sharing his space. It is a little overwhelming, and as he goes through the applications he starts to doubt whether he had made the right decision. 

What if he didn’t get along with any of them? What if they were messy or loud or just generally annoying? It was a dumb idea to begin with, he thought to himself, but then as he looked through the last application, something caught his eye.You. 

You seemed responsible, tidy, and overall like someone he could get along with. But there was something more about you that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way you wrote about your love for cooking and how you were looking for a quiet and peaceful place to call home. Or maybe it was the photo you attached to your application, a warm smile on your face that made Simon feel at ease. 

Maybe this could work out after all. 

And work out it did, maybe a little too well. It has now been a little over a year since you moved in, and despite Simon being gone on deployment more often than not the two of you have become very close. You cook meals together. You watch movies on lazy nights, where you will sometimes fall asleep on the couch, your lashes kissing your cheek as the soft glow of the tv illuminates your face, and Simon can’t help but feel a warmth in his heart as he tucks the fluffy blanket, that you had brought with you when you moved in, over your sleeping form.

After you moved in, his flat feels more like a home than it ever had before. It’s like you were always meant to be there, filling up the empty space in his life that he didn’t even realise was there. 

There is something so oddly domestic about all the small things you do together – sharing a cup of tea in the evenings as you talk about your day, or even playfully arguing over who gets to do the dishes that night, even though he secretly never actually minds doing them. 

Pushing the trolley down the aisles of the supermarket as the two of you do the big shop together on Sundays are one of his favourites, though. Because he knows what it looks like from the outside – just a couple doing their weekly grocery shopping. The only thing that would make the scene even more picturesque would be with a little baby in the trolley, a perfect blend of the two of you, giggling and reaching out to try and grab for the items on the shelves as you both laugh and try to keep them entertained.

These thoughts will sometimes sneak into Simon’s mind, and he will quickly shake them away, reminding himself that it is just his imagination running wild. He can’t think like that, it isn’t fair to you or to himself. But still, the idea lingers in the back of his mind, growing stronger with each passing day.

It has started to get harder and harder to ignore these thoughts, these feelings. He tries to push them away, to bury them deep down, but they keep resurfacing. He never really expected to feel this way about you, about anyone, really. But now that he has you in his life, so close yet so far from what he actually wants to be he can’t help but dream about a different life, to have a family, a future, a life outside of the military and his flat.

Suddenly, Simon starts to notice more and more babies around him. Whether it’s at the park when he is on his runs, in Tesco, or even on TV, they seem to be everywhere. And each time he sees a baby, his heart aches with longing. It doesn’t help that your neighbours just had a baby, and he has to watch you coo over the little boy every chance you get. It is like a knife twisting in his chest, knowing that he will never have that with you.

It has always been a secret desire of his, a wish he knew he would never be worthy of having fulfilled. And yet, it linger in the depths of his heart, elusive and shimmering like a mirage in the desert. The dream of someday having a family of his own, of doing things right, of breaking the cycle he had grown up in. After meeting you, his dreams became more vivid, more concrete. 

He has fallen in love with you, and that scares the living daylights out of him. He never thought he would be in this situation, especially after all the sick shit he has been through. But here you are, filling up the empty space in his heart, making him yearn for a life he never thought he could have.

But Simon is good at keeping his emotions in check, so he continues to play his part, to act like everything is okay, like he doesn’t feel this overwhelming love for you that threatens to consume him. 

But late at night, Simon lies awake in bed, when he is sure you’re sleeping and he is staring at the ceiling, his heart feels heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings. 

And when he tries to decompress, by fisting his aching cock in his hand, guilty thoughts of you will flood his mind, making him ache with longing. 

He knows it’s wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way. But the images of you, of your smile, of your laughter, of your kindness, they linger in his mind, fueling his desires. The way you smile and laugh and light up his life in ways he never thought possible, it fuels a fire within him so all consuming, so intense, that he can’t help but give in to it, even if just in the confines of his own mind.

And as he strokes himself, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you in his bed, to feel your touch, to hear your moans of pleasure. He imagines what it would be like to hold you close, to feel your warmth against his skin, to hear you whisper words of love and affection in his ear. To have you beg for him to fill your womb and mark himself as yours. He would love it – to pump you so full with his cum, for it to take root, to see your body change with his child, to create a life with you, to have a family of his own. 

He will have to bite down on his own hand to stifle his groans and to stop himself from moaning your name out loud. It’s a dangerous game he plays in the silence of the night, as he knows that these feelings, these desires, can never be acted upon. But still, he can’t help but indulge in these fantasies, in these dreams of a life that he may never have.

And as he lies in his bed after, spent and worn, a sense of guilt wash over him. He knows that it’s wrong to have these thoughts about you. But he can’t help it, he can’t control it, and as he lies in the darkness of his bedroom, he can’t help but feel the sting of longing in his chest, knowing that you lie in your own bed just down the hall, so close yet so far away.

[alygator77]

༻behind the screen༺

♡ pairing. gojo x fem! reader (au you're coworkers)

♡ summary. when a late-night swipe on an anonymous dating app leads to a sultry phone call, you think it’s the perfect way to escape your work stress—especially your infuriatingly smug coworker Gojo Satoru. but when the man on the other end starts sounding eerily familiar, secrets slip out.

♡ contents. 18+ MDNI, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, satoru is pining over you.

♡ wc. 3k

♡ a/n this was a request! it became longer than i anticipated hehe. but i had fun writing it nonetheless 💕

Gojo Satoru was used to being in control. Whether it was at work, in social settings, or just walking into a room, he was the guy who turned heads, the one who made people laugh, the one everyone gravitated toward.

Confidence was his currency, and he spent it lavishly. But around you? His brain seemed to malfunction entirely.

It was infuriating, really. He could charm anyone with a single smile, yet you—you—barely spared him a glance. And when you did, it was usually accompanied by a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

But you didn’t hate Gojo Satoru—hate was too strong a word for someone as maddeningly smug as him.

What you felt for him was more akin to the annoyance of stepping in gum on a hot summer day or spilling coffee on your favorite blouse. He was a constant presence in your life, always hovering with his stupidly perfect grin and those ridiculous quips that made your eye twitch.

And yet, to him, you were an enigma. You didn’t fall for his charm, his playful teasing, or his self-proclaimed ‘devastatingly good looks,’ and that made you a puzzle he was desperate to solve.

At first, he chalked it up to frustration. No one had ever resisted him the way you did, and it had to be a fluke. Then, the realization hit him like a freight train: he didn’t just want your attention—he wanted you.

It was a big, messy crush, and he had no idea what to do about it. Gojo Satoru didn’t pine, for god’s sake. So, he acted indifferent.

Unfortunately, his strategy was… suboptimal.

Relentless teasing. Sarcastic remarks. Even the occasional ‘accidental’ brush of his hand against yours. None of it worked. Instead of pulling you closer, it only seemed to cement your belief that he was a certified pain in the ass.

Case in point: last Friday in the break room.

“Still no boyfriend, huh?” he’d asked with a smirk, leaning casually against the door frame as if he hadn’t been plotting that line all day. “Guess guys just don’t appreciate all that… sarcasm. Or is it the constant glaring?”

The flash of irritation in your eyes was immediate and searing. He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing, he doubled down with a cocky grin. That was his defense mechanism—smugness as a shield.

You didn’t even bother to dignify him with a response. You stormed off, brushing his shoulder while your heels clicked against the floor as he stood there, internally kicking himself.

Now, as you lay in bed on a random Tuesday night, those words played on repeat in your head. It wasn’t because they hurt—of course not. But they lingered, burrowing into your thoughts like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Was that cocky ass, right? No… you could get a boyfriend… if you wanted to.

The thought made you scowl, your finger aimlessly scrolling through your phone as the glow of the screen illuminated your face.

“God, who cares what he thinks…” you groan, tossing your phone aside. But the moment you did, it buzzed, and the glow of an ad caught your attention.

A dating app. Anonymous. Discreet. Perfect for someone who wanted validation… without the strings.

“Why not?” you mutter, tapping the download button.

You didn’t expect much. Maybe a few shallow conversations, something to pass the time and make you feel less… undesirable.

Fuck it.

༻♡༺

Gojo Satoru slouched on his couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while his other hand flicked mindlessly through his phone.

The TV was on, some senseless drama he couldn’t care less about playing in the background. It was just noise, really—something to drown out the thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. Thoughts of you.

“You’re sulking,” Suguru’s voice cut through the haze, casual and smug as always. Satoru barely looked up as his best friend wandered in from the kitchen, a beer in hand.

“I don’t sulk,” his thumb swipes with more force than necessary, and the pout tugging at his lips, said otherwise.

Suguru snorted, plopping down beside him and cracking his beer open.

“Sure,” he said, leisurely taking a sip. “So, what’s your deal this time? Another tragic failure to get her attention?”

Satoru’s eyes flick up to glare at his friend, but the effect was less menacing and more petulant. He looks back at his phone, refusing to dignify that with a response. Still, his pout said everything Suguru needed to know.

“It wasn’t a failed attempt…” he grumbles after a moment. “She reacts… just… the wrong way…”

Suguru’s brow arches is amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Lemme guess… she glared at you. Again.”

Satoru was silent, staring at his phone like it might provide him with a more dignified answer, but eventually, the admission slipped out, quiet and begrudging.

“Her glare is cute…”

Suguru doesn’t miss the soft pink dusting Satoru’s cheeks, and his eyes roll so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head. He sets his beer down with a sigh, leaning back to rest an arm along the back of the couch.

“You’ve got it bad, man. Just confess already.”

“I can’t,” Satoru’s sigh is so dramatic it could’ve won him an award. He drops his phone onto his chest, staring up at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe. “She totally hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Suguru counters. “She just thinks you’re an idiot, which—let’s be real—you kinda are.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Satoru said flatly. “Your support is truly heartwarming.”

Suguru shrugs, unbothered as always. He grabs his beer and takes another sip, eyeing Satoru like he’s both a lost cause and an endless source of entertainment.

“Y’know what your problem is?”

“Oh, please. Enlighten me,” Satoru stretches his legs out on the coffee table.

Suguru sets his can back down with a decisive clink.

“You overthink things with this girl. Maybe you need a distraction. You oughta download one of those dating apps everyone’s obsessed with. Blow off some steam.”

“A dating app?” Satoru’s nose scrunches in disgust, like Suguru had suggested he take up competitive bird watching or something.

Suguru, unperturbed, reaches over and snatches the phone off Satoru’s chest with zero hesitation. “Yep,” his fingers fly over the screen. “You’re clearly incapable of doing this on your own, so I’m doing it for you.”

“Wait, what—”

“There.” Suguru shoves the phone back into Satoru’s hands, grinning like a man who’d just solved world hunger. “All set.”

༻♡༺

That was how Satoru found himself lying in bed, staring at the app now loaded onto his phone—the bright interface practically mocking him.

A dating app? Seriously?

He was Gojo fucking Satoru. He didn’t need help in that department—if anything, people practically threw themselves at him.

And yet, here he was, thumb hovering over the ‘Get Started’ button like it was some kind of nuclear launch code.

“This is so dumb…” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his snow-white hair. But the alternative—sitting here alone and thinking about you—was worse. Much worse.

With a resigned sigh, he taps the button. The setup was painless enough, and he will admit that the app’s anonymity piqued his interest. No names, no faces, no preconceived notions—just bios and conversation. A refreshing change from his usual routine.

But once he started swiping, reality set in.

The profiles were… bland. Painfully so. If he had to read one more line about someone who ‘loves hiking and tacos,’ he was going to throw his phone across the room. Plus, the conversations he’d had were dull at best and unbearable at worst. Small talk wasn’t his thing, and most people just couldn’t seem to keep up with his wit.

Satoru was about five minutes away from deleting the app when your profile popped up. It was short, clever, and witty—his kind of humor. Intrigued, he swiped right and shot you a message.

Hours slipped away like water through his fingers. The conversation flowed so easily it was almost surreal. You didn’t tiptoe around him or try to impress him—you met his sarcasm with your own, and every jab you threw only made him want to know more.

The two of you talked about everything—movies, terrible music recommendations, the absurdity of office politics. The way you called out corporate nonsense had him laughing so hard he had to put the phone down to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him laugh like that.

God—you were funny, sharp, and quick on your feet in a way that reminded him of—

Nah…

It wasn’t you. It couldn’t be. The universe wasn’t that cruel—or that kind.

He groans, tossing his phone onto the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. His mind was betraying him again, spiraling back to you like it always does.

‘You need a distraction. Blow off some steam.’

Maybe Suguru was right. Maybe he needed a distraction. Something—anything—to get you out of his head.

As his phone buzzes with a new message, his gaze drifts back to the screen.

still there, or did I scare you off?

A slow grin spreads across his face. Whatever. Whoever you were, you had his attention. For tonight, that was enough.

Still here. Hey, can I be honest for a sec?

mmm… depends. how honest?

He smirked, typing quickly.

Well, tbh I’ve been having a tough time. Got it bad for this coworker. Total knockout, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m an idiot.

He hits send before he can talk himself out of it, watching the little ‘delivered’ icon appear. Your reply comes after a brief pause.

yikes… sounds complicated.

He chuckles, already typing again.

You have no idea... anyway, I figured I could use a distraction. And if I’m gonna distract myself, I’d rather do it with someone who can actually keep my interest.

There was a beat of hesitation, and then he boldly added:

Wanna have phone sex?

This time, the pause stretched longer. Long enough for him to wonder if he’d blown it. But then, his phone buzzes again.

fuck it... why not?

Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, he hit the call button through the app. The line rang once, twice, before clicking.

“Hi…” your voice greeted him softly.

“Hey princess,” he drawled. “Thought I might’ve scared you off.”

“Oh… no,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “But I will admit, you’re straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Always.” He leans back further, his free hand trailing lazily over his stomach. “Why waste time, right? Life’s too short for tiptoeing around.”

Ironic, considering how he seemed to do nothing but tiptoe around you—his coworker—at work. You—who always had him second-guessing himself in ways no one else ever could.

However, this wasn’t about you. This was a stranger—right? A voice on the other end of the line. That was all.

But as you laugh through the phone, he closes his eyes, letting the sound settle over him. It was nice… and familiar. Too familiar.

No.

He was imagining things. Again. His brain was playing tricks on him, twisting your voice into something it wasn’t. There was no way it was you.

“So,” he said, steering the conversation back on track. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not really,” you admit, voice dipping slightly. “Actually… no. Honestly, I haven’t. This is my first time.”

His grin widens—the cocky edge returning to his tone.

“First time, huh? Well, you’re in luck. I’m an excellent teacher.”

You let out another soft laugh, nervous but sweet, and it sends a jolt of heat straight through him. What the hell is wrong with him tonight? Your voice—soft, familiar—it feels like a melody he’s heard before.

“Is that so?” you ask, breaking his train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh… absolutely,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. His fingers drummed against his thigh as he forced himself to focus. “Just relax, princess. Let me guide you.”

“…okay,” you whisper.

He exhales slowly, letting the tension drain from his shoulders as he shifts lower on the bed.

“Now… are you laying in your bed for me?”

“mhmm…” you hum softly.

“Mm, good girl,” he murmurs. “Alright, tell me—what are you wearing?”

“Just… an oversized shirt,” the hesitation in your voice makes him grin. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah?” his hand trails down to the waistband of his sweatpants as he closes his eyes. “That’s perfect. Makes it easy to imagine my hands slipping underneath, right up to that pretty pussy of yours...”

Your sharp inhale crackles through the receiver, and the sound sends a thrill straight to his cock.

“Do something for me,” he begins palming his growing bulge. “Run your hands down your thighs… nice and slow. Tease yourself the way I would.”

There was a beat of silence, and he held his breath, waiting. Then, he heard it—a faint shift in your breathing, followed by a soft, shaky exhale. It was subtle, but it was enough to tell him you were doing exactly as he asked.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his own hand slipping beneath his waistband to wrap around his cock. It twitched eagerly in his palm, already hard and aching as he imagines you following his instructions.

“…you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah.”

The word trembles on your lips like a secret only he’s allowed to hear, and his grip tightens on his cock as he begins to stroke himself slowly—matching the rhythm he imagines your hand moving in.

“Good girl,” he purrs, the sheets rustling beneath him as his hand glides across his length. “Now slide your fingers inside that tight little cunt… nice and slow.”

Your soft moan spills through the line, and his hips buck involuntarily at the sound—his hand moving faster.

“Fuck… love hearing those pretty little sounds” he groans as his thumb swipes over his tip, slick with pre-cum. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two,” you gasp as the word breaks into a moan.

“Add another,” he commands, almost a growl.

You hesitate for just a moment, but then your breathy whimper crackles through the line, and he hisses through clenched teeth, his dick twitching eagerly at the sound. But somehow, without meaning to, his imagination betrays him.

He pictures you—his coworker. Fuck, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

You—head tipped back; lips parted as your fingers work you open—his cock throbbed eagerly at the mental image.

Fuck… this was supposed to be a distraction, not fuel for his already out-of-control infatuation. He groaned, annoyed at himself but powerless to stop, and his strokes grew faster, more desperate as he surrendered to the fantasy.

“Haa… that’s my girl,” he praises, eyes fluttering shut as his hips buck into his hand desperately. “Stretch yourself for me. Make yourself nice and ready for my cock… nngh… wanna fucking fill you up, princess. Make you take every inch.”

Your soft, choked moan crackles through the phone, and it unravels him further. His strokes grow faster, more erratic—his free hand gripping the sheets as he chases his release.

“Bet you’d look so pretty,” his hand becomes a frantic blur as he loses himself to his fantasy. “All spread out and dripping for me. Taking my cock like a good girl… haaa… gonna fucking stuff you full as you cum all over m’ dick.”

“Fuck… m’ cumming,” you gasp, and as your broken cry crackles through the receiver, it sends him careening over the edge.

“Fuck… yes, good fucking girl… haaa—m’ cumming too.”

He pumps his cock, hips jerking as thick, hot streams of cum spill over his hand and onto the sheets below. His breath hitches in his throat, and before he can stop himself, your name rips from his lips, raw and guttural, a desperate cry he couldn’t contain.

Through the phone, your own gasping breaths mingle with his—the faint sound of your release trembling through the line. Then, for a brief moment, the world was quiet, save for the shared rhythm of your breathing as the two of you come down from the high.

Until, reality set in.

Fuck.

He blinked up at the ceiling, his free hand raking through his hair as his brain scrambled to process what just happened.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He felt like a goddamn asshole. He’d just moaned someone else’s name—your name—while he was supposed to be with someone else.

What the hell was wrong with him?

But then, you laughed—a soft, breathless sound that broke through his spiraling thoughts.

“That was… fun,” you said warmly, slightly teasing. “But, um… how do you know my name?”

His stomach dropped.

“I… what?” his voice cracked slightly as panic clawed its way up his throat.

“You said my name,” you reply, a curious lilt to your tone now. “I don’t remember telling you my name. And, you know, the app is supposed to be anonymous…”

It hit him all at once.

The voice that had been haunting him, the one that felt so painfully familiar, the one he’d convinced himself couldn’t possibly be yours—it was yours.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as realization washed over him.

“Wait…” your tone shifts from amused to sharp. “You sound familiar. Like… Gojo?”

His stomach flips, dread pooling in his chest like ice water.

“Uh…” He froze, his mind scrambling for something, anything, that could salvage this disaster. “…hi, princess?” His tone was a weak attempt at his usual cocky charm—it fell flat. “Didn’t expect to find you on this app…”

There was a beat of silence, and then, like the idiot he was, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“Sooo… still no boyfriend then, huh?”

[dark-fics-4-you]

Angel

dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation

A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)

Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.

He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.

Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, of course he had said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.

Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.

You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.

“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.

He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.

“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.

“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.

“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.

“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.

Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.

Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.

“I love your costume,” one said.

“You look fantastic tonight.”

“Aw thanks!” You beamed.

“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”

“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.

“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.

“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”

“They were just being nice-”

“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”

The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.

“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.

You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”

“Where are your friends at?”

“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.

“Come right back here, okay?”

“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.

Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.

He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.

Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.

He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.

Shit like this was the reason he did so much blow.

Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.

You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill, he was seeing red.

He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.

When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turned red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.

“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“I- Top was just showing me how to…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.

“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.

“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.

“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.

“Did you have another drink?”

“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.

What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.

He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.

The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.

Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.

Especially fucking Topper.

He should have known better.

Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.

He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.

Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.

When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.

His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.

Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.

He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.

All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.

At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.

He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.

If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.

Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.

He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.

The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.

Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.

These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.

Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.

Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.

He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.

His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.

When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.

He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.

You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.

He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.

But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.

You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.

Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.

You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.

He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he had robbed you of this experience if you ever found out; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.

And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.

But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.���

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[withmyloveasyourgarden]

TO BE DRUNK AND IN LOVE

EDDIE MUNSON X F!READER.

Nervous Eddie, protective reader, and a drunk love confession. Idiots who are too dumb to realise their feelings are reciprocated. 9.4K of tooth rotting friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

Even when it was Valentine's day it wasn’t all that surprising to open your door to a random knock and find Eddie Munson staring back at you.

He was your best friend after all.

What was surprising however, was to open your door at nearly midnight, bleary eyed and more than a little bit annoyed, to a sheepish looking Steve Harrington.

His usually perfect hair was in wild disarray from the winter winds still sweeping through Hawkins and there was a hesitant smile on his face, all boyish charm and sweetness, like he was already intent on persuading you to forgive him before you even knew why.

But then you had taken a closer look, letting the light from inside spill out onto the porch to reveal that Steve wasn’t alone. Appearing to be struggling with a rather drunk Eddie, arms straining, looped around the longer haired boy who instead of being on the ‘hot date’ he’d been rambling about having all week, was half asleep, swaying back and forth into his friend’s side.

"He called me to come get him but when I got there he wouldn’t stop asking for you.” Steve explained before you had the chance to ask, grumbling good naturedly. “Didn’t wanna drop him off home and risk him having the genius idea of trying to get here himself, s’that okay?”

You nodded in response, still a little confused but you couldn’t stop yourself from softening. Chest warming as you mumbled a quick ‘of course’ and tried to bite back the laugh that was threatening to bubble up at the way Eddie was trying to use Steve like some kind of pillow.

The wild mess of his curls spilling down to cover his face as his head fell to the other boy’s shoulder with a quiet groan, ringed fingers curling into the fabric of Steve’s jumper and voice rough as he grumbled your name again, again, again.

"Yeah, she's here, man." Steve chuckled, his tone surprisingly gentle, a fond type of exasperated as he nudged his shoulder into the rosy squish of Eddie's cheek. "You wanna wake up now so you can actually see her?"

To your surprise he actually listened.

His head snapping up quicker than you anticipated, curls bouncing with the movement and brown eyes a touch glazed over, just that little bit unfocused, before they locked on you and then his mouth split into a blinding grin. The kind that made his whole face light up and your heart flip all too wild behind your ribs.

"There’s my pretty girl." He cooed loudly and you heard Steve snort, something that sounded an awful lot like ‘very smooth Munson, jesus christ’ muttered under his breath whilst he fought to remain upright against the weight of Eddie leaning his entire body in your direction.

You did laugh then.

A bright, flustered thing that you were unable to resist any longer, along with the way your arms opened on reflex to wrap around the boy when he finally managed to break free of his friend’s hold. His hands batting furiously at Steve’s as he twisted away, and only stumbled slightly in his determination to swoop you up into hug that was all leather, cheap beer and the smoky bite of whiskey - weed and the spice of his shampoo where his hair tickled at your nose.

"Hey sweets.” He whispered, humming happily as he pushed a messy kiss to your hairline.

God, why did that make you want to melt.

“Hey Eddie, you okay?” You asked softly, one hand rubbing gentle circles on his back and the other reaching up to cradle the back of his head.

It made him snuggle into you further, ducking down so he could press his face into the warm crook of your neck as his arms tightened and you prayed he was too drunk to notice the way your pulse thrummed faster when he spoke, soft lips brushing against sensitive skin.

"‘Am now.”

Tou froze for just a second, lips parted, blinking once, twice, just to make sure you had really heard what you thought you had and when it did fully register you wondered if the heat radiating off your cheeks was as obvious as it felt.

A quick glance at Steve told you it was.

Your friend was looking at you and Eddie all huddled together with an endless amount of amusement and affection, eyes twinkling as he grinned, shining like there was something he knew that you didn’t.

"Okay then, that’s good I guess,” You croaked out, voice a little too affected for your liking, coughing slightly in attempt to cover the sudden shyness you felt before you told the other boy. “I better get him to bed before he falls asleep standing up.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” He added, snorting at the ‘hey, screw you Harrington, it was one time’ that sounded from the metalhead still needily curling himself around you. “You need a hand hauling his ass upstairs?”

You considered it but then the poor Steve was desperately trying to fight a vicious yawn and failing, his eyes tired despite the way they crinkled as he smiled when you gave him a mothering look and made a shooing motion with the hand that wasn’t still making gentle strokes down Eddie’s back.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him, go get some sleep, yeah? And thank you for bringing him.”

He hesitated but ultimately didn’t argue and you waved him goodbye as he drove away before shutting the door. Turning your full attention to your best friend who had slowly become suspiciously heavier, arms loosely folded around your waist and hands still, where only moments before they’d been trailing patterns along your spine.

"Eddie?”

Nothing.

“Eds?” You tried again and when there was no response a second time your eyes narrowed, suspicious.

The boy remained limp as your hands snuck past denim and leather, his breathing light and even whilst your fingers crept up his vest covered sides until you met torn fabric and then smooth, warm skin.

You let them rest there just a moment, waiting, and when he made no move to give up the pretence of sleep that you suspected, you dug them in a little firmer, tickling across his ribs until you heard a choked laugh and felt the stretch of his grin against your neck.

"Just let me sleep here, m’comfy.” He whined when you took to the task with more enthusiasm, snickering as he protested. But he was still laughing as he jerked and thrashed, dramatic as ever, and then threw himself out of your arms, cheeks flushed with it and dimples showing despite the glare he attempted to pin you with, snapping. “Fuckin’ devil woman, give me peace.”

There was no heat behind it and you smiled sweetly in return,reaching over to poke him in the cheek before pointing in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll give you peace Munson when you get your ass upstairs so we can go to bed.”

He raised his brows at the demand, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Are you trying to seduce me sweetheart? Do I need to call Steve to come back and protect my virtue, save my poor innocent soul from being snatched by a temptress?” Eddie asked playfully, all faux horror and scandalised expression, a hand pressed to his heart as he choked down a bark of laughter at the way you stared at him, incredulous.

"Jesus christ.”

"No, I’m Eddie, remember? If you’re tryin’ to seduce a man at least get his name right, babe.”

You threw your arms up in the air, let out a long-suffering groan whilst the boy cackled and then you were marching towards him, fingers twisting in denim as you shoved him in front of you and walked him in the direction of the stairs and to your room.

"Shit, okay, I’m going.” He yelped, sniggering when he heard you grumbling behind him as he deliberately leaned his full weight back into the press of your hand and tsked, voice full of tease. “So fuckin’ pushy, you're lucky the whole bossy thing works on me.”

There was a familiar routine to the way you entered your bedroom, the kind that developed after countless nights of Eddie deciding it was too late to drive home despite the journey only being five minutes, of you both refusing to let the other take the couch that very first time until you eventually agreed, with shy smiles and faux nonchalant shrugs, that it was no big deal if you just shared the bed.

Friends totally did that, right?

It happened enough that he claimed a side and a drawer, that tapes and other trinkets of his littered the tops of your dressers, mixing with yours, and you’d even bought an ashtray and a spare lighter especially for the bedside table on his side.

And it happened enough for it to be second nature for Eddie to veer left and you right, clumsily kicking his shoes off before he fell into the bed with a contended groan and turning just time in to catch the old, faded sweats he left the last time he stayed that you threw before they could slap him in the face.

"You smell like a brewery Eds, don’t even think of getting in that bed until you’ve changed.”

"Mean.” He groaned but he hauled himself back up and did as you asked, shrugging off denim and leather in one go until all he was left in was tight, black jeans and a slashed up vest that showed more tattoos and bare skin than it possibly hid. His silver chain glinting prettily where it lay against his collarbones.

And oh fuck, you were staring.

Despite the fear that prickled at your skin at the thought of being caught, it felt impossible not to.

Because Eddie had always been far too pretty, a heartbreaking kind of gorgeous really, and if that wasn’t distracting enough, then the way his muscles moved as he yanked the vest over his head before dropping his hands to his belt certainly was.

You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry when you realised your eyes had followed, fixed on the flex of his hands, and you couldn’t stop from wondering if they’d look just as perfect dragging up your bare waist, gripping at your thighs. Maybe circling your neck, cupping your chin, rings glittering in the low lamplight, before his lips descended on yours.

Jesus.

You wrenched your gaze away, fully intending it to land somewhere more decent. Somewhere that wasn’t your best friend and where it couldn’t ruin that easy bond you’d always had with the boy by giving all your secrets away.

But it felt like there was some kind of higher power at play, some hand of fate kind of bullshit that brought it straight back to Eddie, to his eyes that were already watching you, darker than usual and more than a little wild.

It made your breath catch in your chest. Cheeks flaming with heat, heart slamming against your ribs hard enough you thought your bones might shatter, and god, could he hear it?

You already knew by the look on his face that Eddie had seen every single second of your staring, that he’d been able to guess every little thought that swam through your mind and revealed themselves in the brief flash of want in your expression before you could shove it back down.

You just hadn’t noticed him doing the same.

Gaze lingering on his shirt that you were wrapped up in, the way the hem was as long as the length of your sleep shorts and made it seem like you were wearing nothing else, the way it made you look too soft, too enticing, too much like you were his and when his eyes flicked back up to yours he looked at you like you were something dangerous.

Like you were making him want something he shouldn’t ask for, or at least, didn’t think he could.

You licked your lips, a nervous sweep of your tongue as the air in the room seemed to thicken, and his gaze followed the movement hungrily as if he wished it was his mouth sliding over them instead.

But then the wind was howling, branches smacking and scraping at your window, the sound bringing reality crashing back in and making you both flinch.

Eddie’s cheeks were pink and his lips parted, a strangled noise slipping past them as he tried to speak and stumbled and suddenly you couldn’t look at him. Eyes snapping shut and mortification burning in your throat as you spun round before you could make an even bigger mistake than you already had, because what the hell were you doing?

What were you thinking?

This was Eddie.

Eddie, who you swore to never let your feelings for ruin your friendship.

Eddie, who you were convinced was still very much drunk and you very much weren’t.

It felt wrong.

It felt like you were begging to have your feelings hurt when the boy became clear headed enough to realise that the person he was looking at like he wanted to push them down onto the bed and devour, happened to be his best friend and inevitably freaked the fuck out.

He had just come back from a date with someone else after all, a date that he would have never thought to ask you on and despite the fact that you suspected it must not have gone well given his current state, it didn’t really make you feel any better or lessen the sting of jealousy that felt like barbed wire snaking through your ribs.

You continued to face the wall as he changed, cheeks still burning, stained with heat. But your gaze was unfocused as it flickered over lines of polaroids, fairy lights and old ticket stubs that you’d refused to throw away and used as decoration, your mind far too aware of the sound of his belt being unbuckled, the chains on his jeans clinking quietly before the denim hit the floor with a soft thud.

The silence that spread through the room after felt overwhelming, like it amplified every little movement either one of you made, the breaths you both took that made your chests fall a little too quick, a little uneven still, and when Eddie finally cleared his throat you tensed at the way it broke the quiet so harshly it felt like he’d made the noise directly in your ear.

"It’s okay - if you wanna turn around now, I mean.” He muttered softly.

It still felt like too much to look at him.

Maybe even more now because all you could see out of the corner of your eye before you walked towards the little lamp on your desk was messy hair and bare skin, sweats slung low on his hips. Big, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading with you to meet their stare and melt back into your usual softness with him like nothing had happened.

You couldn’t.

Not yet.

So you flicked the light off whilst the boy sighed and slipped beneath the covers, shoving his face into a pillow that smelled faintly like you as he squeezed his eyes shut before they flashed open again when he heard your approaching footsteps.

Eddie swallowed as you drifted close, throat bobbing when the air between you seemed to hum again once there was less of it as you reached above him to draw the curtains tighter, knowing how much the boy hated any hint of sunlight first thing in the morning.

There were nerves all lit up inside him that he hadn’t been able to shake all night, fondness fizzing in his chest when he heard the sound of the unopened bottle of water you’d brought up for yourself being set down next to the pile of his rings. The rattle of painkillers being plucked from the draw following before you moved around the bed and pulled back the sheets to climb in beside him.

He couldn’t help but hate what felt like an ocean of cool sheets that you deliberately left between you.

Hated that you didn’t push into his side and press your legs to his to steal his heat like you usually did, hated the way you lay stiff with tension in your own bed, facing the ceiling he had helped you paint one summer instead of facing him like you would when you would whisper with him, nose to nose, until the sun came up.

And when you did finally turn, a soft frown on your face as you wriggled to find a more comfortable position, he hated that your eyes widened slightly with panic when you finally noticed he was watching you.

It made his brows pull together in a distressed frown - his throat tight with guilt when you quickly glanced down at your hands that were knotting in the bed sheets.

An anxious habit he despised being the cause of because god, the last thing Eddie had ever wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check.

For the longest time he looked at you like he wanted to say something, working his jaw like he wanted to address what had happened and apologise but couldn’t find the right words, his eyes soft and sad in the pale slip of moonlight from the window.

And then he seemed to think better of it.

You were caught off guard when he smiled instead. A soft grin that was all easy warmth and a touch playful as he reached to poke a finger to your cheek and whispered, “thanks for taking care of me, sweets.”

You huffed out a laugh like you couldn't help yourself and the boy took it as small progress when you visibly relaxed. Taking the opportunity to get more and more dramatic with his prodding and tickling until he could feel the way your body vibrated with the giggles bubbling up from your chest and you’d allowed yourself to sink fully into the bed, rolling closer as you tried to fend him off.

"Someone has to make sure you’ll be alive enough to take us for breakfast in the morning.” You whispered back sternly when your face re-emerged from its hiding place in the mattress.

But your smile was matching Eddie’s, growing wider when he caught the hand you tried to bat his away with and gently pinched at your fingers.

"So you’re only being nice so you can use me.” He gasped theatrically and propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at you, all over the top stricken expression as he stifled a laugh when you shoved your face into the pillow and groaned. “How could my best friend betray me like this?”

You turned your head back to face him, rolling your eyes before levelling him with a thoughtful stare. “I wouldn’t call it using,” you mused, slipping your arm under your pillow and beneath your head as you yawned, “more like cashing in straight away on a debt, y’know, since you woke me up in the middle of the night. Which, as my best friend, you’ll remember makes me very grumpy in the morning.”

Eddie nodded, bangs falling into his eyes as he did so. He was serious for all of a second before he let himself fall back into the mused sheet with a guilty grin, hair spilling everywhere and the movement making your body lean into the dip he created, suddenly closer to the boy than before.

"Touche.”

The word came out in a small huff that you felt it against your cheek, a soft thing that made your lashes flutter and when you glanced up at him you found him looking at you with gentle eyes, all brown sugar sweet and lovely as he smiled, full of affection.

It made the last of the left-over tension fizzle away, turning the air softer, warmer, as Eddie drew lines along your fingers with his own before he slotted them together.

You hadn’t even realised he was still holding your hand.

"You win, babe,” He murmured, almost too quiet to hear, his thumb rubbing slow against your skin, touch worshipful as he traced the faint scar on your hand that was proof monsters were never simply just part of stories, and if he noticed the way you inhaled a little shakily, well, he did his best not to show it.

“I’ll do anything you want, maybe take you to that bakery you like and buy you coffee so you’ll stop hissing at me and then so many of those cinnamon things that like that you’ll go into a sugar coma and I’ll have to carry you out.”

You snorted and Eddie beamed like he’d hit the jackpot, encouraged by the sound as he arched a brow like he was begging you to argue.

"Idon’t hiss.” You muttered petulantly, full of false indignation whilst you scrunched your nose to hide your grin and knocked your knee against his.

His gaze shone at you, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth in the dark, and when he managed to fend off your attack by hooking a leg over yours to trap it between his own, he continued with a teasing scoff.

“You do. You’re like some kind of rabid raccoon when you wake up, I’m lucky I still have both eyes and all my fingers.” He wiggled the ones resting snug around yours for emphasis and you snorted. “Now shut up, I’m trying to impress you with my plan to get back in your good graces.”

You huffed, too amused to be offended, and gestured with your linked hands as if to say ‘well go on then’

Okay, so after I’ve carried you out of the bakery, we’d go to the bookstore,” the boy told you, gaze knowing and smile a little smug when he noticed that he’d caught your attention despite the way you tried to hide it from him.

"Always a pretty foolproof plan - which one though?”

“Not the fancy one where the housewives hog the couches pretending to talk about their weekly book club read,” Eddie assured you, his voice dropping to a scandalised hush, the fingers that weren’t holding yours tugging at his curls to hide a salacious grin as he whispered, “when instead they’re bitching about how their husbands don’t satisfy them anymore and how they’ve had to resort to fucking the pool boy so they can feel young again.”

"Of course,” You choked on a laugh, a startled, delighted sound that made Eddie’s heart stutter and his chest ache with warmth. “Can’t have them cheapening the wholesome moment when I’m overcome with the joy of being surrounded by books and finally forgive you.”

"Exactly.” He replied sagely. “So we’re gonna go to that one near Oak instead with the shit ton of stacks everywhere that threaten to fall and crush you if you breathe near them. Works better in my favour if I get to save you from a gruesome death.”

You nodded, only looking half as serious as Eddie thanks to the way you could barely stop the threat of giggles rising in your throat. “I get it, totally get extra brownie points for a hero moment.”

"Right? And then maybe I’ll get you one of the books you stare at all longingly everytime we go in 'cause for some reason you act like it’s a fuckin’ crime to treat yourself once in a while-”

"-I do not! I just have other things that kind of have to take priority, y’know like bills and stuff. ”

"Same thing.” Eddie dismissed, but his voice was softly teasing and his gaze understanding as he fingers tapped a random beat against your hand. “Anyway, after that we’ll rent some movies and get some snacks, maybe horrors so I can be all charming and let you hold my hand when it gets scary, we’ll get pizza for dinner and by the end of it you’ll have totally forgot that I crashed your romantic night with yourself and ruined your sleep.”

You stared at him. “And that’s all it’s gonna take, huh?”

"Don’t pretend you’re not impressed, sweetheart.” He grinned knowingly, looking too proud of himself as his hand slipped out of yours to prod a finger to where your cheeks were appled, aching from smiling far too long.

He wished he could kiss them instead, brush his lips over the pretty flush that bloomed after his touch made you realise you never really had stopped smiling from the moment he started speaking. “Look at you, just dyin’ to forgive me right now, I can tell.”

You hated that he was right.

Not about you dying to forgive him now, because the truth was Eddie hadn’t actually done anything to need forgiveness, no, it was the fact that if you were ever genuinely mad and the boy did all that for you, you knew in your bones you would fold in a pathetic, lovesick heartbeat.

It was the fact that Eddie knew it too, he just hadn’t figured out why.

Yet.

So you swatted at him once again and tried to discreetly shuffle back whilst he was distracted threatening to snap his teeth down on your fingers.

You were praying for some distance, needed it so you could breathe without the scent of him making you feel weak, so you could hide in the dark for the moment it would take to stop looking at him like he’d shoved his hand inside your chest, wrapped long fingers around your heart and slipped it out to put it where it belonged. With him.

But your legs were still tangled with Eddie’s and your body was against you when he clamped his legs down to stop you from slipping away. Turned traitor by the feel of soft fleece pressing to your bare calves, the muscles of his arms flexing when he threw one over your waist and pushed the other one beneath you to roll you on top of him.

His biceps were warm where you caught at him with your hands to steady yourself and as he shifted a little higher up the pillow, stretching until he found himself comfortable, you cursed the warmth it spread through your belly.

"See, you can’t even deny it can you?” Eddie prompted and you felt it rumble from his chest to your own, chin dipped to peer down at you and cheeks dimpling as his grin turned smug. Unbelievably delighted that you had yet to refute him.

You wrinkled your nose when he tapped a finger there, if only to hide the shock that lingered on your face, the way you felt flushed all over because there was no part of you that wasn’t touching him and jesus christ, it felt like his hands resting on your sides were burning through the thin material of your shirt, threatening to brand the skin beneath.

“What, no– I mean yes– I mean, shit, you know what I mean asshole” You finished with a scowl and prayed your rambling had sounded less frantic to Eddie than it had to your own ears, though judging by the way he arched a brow at you, gaze dancing with withheld laughter, you would guess you had failed there too.

'Uh huh, but feel free to keep tryin’ to enlighten me anyway.”

"I was just wondering,” you began, all false confidence just to hide the fact you were still unsure of where you were going with it. Stalling just a little because it was hard to remember what you had been wondering before he had decided to use you as a blanket, your chest now lying atop his abdomen, stomach resting against his hips and legs cradled between his own.

You let go of his arms to fold your hands at the centre of his chest, settling your chin there, and his eyes softened as they roamed your face, waiting for you to continue. “Okay, so how does it make sense that you can pull off something like that and yet you’re here with me, drunk, instead of on your date swooning the hell out of Sarah?”

"Sam.”

“Same thing.”

“Not even close, sweetheart.”

“At least I got the first two letters right, unlike you with the last guy I dated.” You shot back.

Eddie shrugged. “He looked like a Danny.” He defended mildly but his gaze was playful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth to hold back the laugh threatening to escape when you threw a death glare his way.

“His name was Matthew.” You deadpanned and the boy snorted, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture when it looked like you might rip the pillow from beneath his head and smother him with it.

But then you were shaking your head instead, an accusatory finger jabbed to his chest and you rolled your eyes when he frowned and muttered a petulant ‘ow’.

“Hang on, why are we even arguing this again? Answer the question Munson - did you try to take her to skull rock again? ‘Cause I don’t give a damn what Steve says, just because you take a fucking picnic it doesn’t suddenly make a make out spot romantic”

He made a disturbed noise and shook his head but you didn’t miss the way his face fell a little at you bringing up the date again, smile half-hearted at best, and even the dark couldn’t hide the way his eyes had dimmed. His thumbs that had been dragging small, steady circles over the sides of your ribs faltering as he dropped his gaze from yours.

It made you gentle - the sense of protectiveness that tightened your chest and urged you to shuffle your way up his body until you were seated in his lap, knees dragging the sheets askew. Fingers finding their way to his chin to bring his stare back to you and you were too focused on your worry to register the way it made his lashes flutter, eyes hooded and lips parted, breath hitching at the gesture.

"Hey - did something happen tonight? Is that why you came back in such a state?” You murmured, eyes flicking between his, searching, before your tone suddenly grew sharp and your hand fell flat against his chest. “Was she a dick to you - I swear to god if she was I’ll get dressed right now and–”

You were cut off by Eddie’s hand descending over yours, the other landing on the thigh that you had already raised to clamber off him, squeezing the flesh softly, drawing it back down, and the fight left you just as fast as it had appeared when he chuckled, his voice smudged with fondness, awe, a hint of pride.

“Okay, reign it in Rocky, nothin’ bad happened I promise, you don’t need to go runnin’ off into the night to defend my honour.”

But god, he wanted to kiss you for trying to.

He settled for watching you watch him instead, your frown of concern that he itched to smooth away with his thumb still present before you eventually nodded, only slightly pacified when you had found no sign of a lie in the way he met your gaze.

And Eddie knew it was foolish to hope that was the end of it, knew the expression on your face all too well despite the way it flickered sweet just for a moment, just for him, as he released your hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

So it came as no surprise to the boy when you seemed to be considering your next words as you tilted your head, whether to deliberately lean into his touch or just a habit whilst you thought he wasn’t sure.

Maybe it was coincidence or maybe it was both, either way when your hand followed his seconds after he had let it go to clasp gently at his wrist, his heart spasmed despite knowing what was coming.

"There was something though, wasn’t there? You stated but you were quiet in how you spoke, gentle, trying to make sure Eddie knew he wasn’t being pushed, that you were only concerned, and everything about it made him ache. His thoughts going a cotton-wool kind of hazy that he wasn’t convinced he could blame on the alcohol anymore.

He let his thumb brush the downturned corner of your lips, a brief second of indulgence before he pressed up, moulding your mouth into a smile until he spied it becoming a real one, the kind that would have had Eddie dropping to his knees if he’d been standing, as you knocked his hand away.

He tapped at your legs then, drumming lightly at the creases of your knees and up the backs of your thighs, making you twitch.

You got the hint though, rising off him just enough for him to push himself up and then back, leaning against the pillows before he held out his hands for you to take so you could climb back into his lap.

It felt like his first mistake.

Or was it his second, after coming here in the first place? Third, after losing his head and nearly kissing you?

He’d lost count.

All he knew was that it was suddenly a little harder to breathe, that being this close didn’t feel as innocent as it had five minutes ago.

As it had all the other times you’d been tucked tight against him, sleepily whispering secrets until dawn broke and your head fell heavy against his shoulder, leaving Eddie to have to carefully roll you back on to the mattress so you didn’t wake up stiff and sore.

Your hands were soft on his stomach, forcing the boy to fight off a shudder every time you traced the dark lines of another tattoo, jaw slack as he watched every little movement of your fingers with rapt attention, only realising he’d been repeating each one with his own touch on your thighs when he felt the brush of soft fabric against his fingertips.

It took Eddie a second to tear his eyes away from the sight, to meet your gaze with pink cheeks and lips almost bitten raw and find that you had swayed closer.

Close enough so that he could map each little freckle that made up constellations on your cheeks in the moonlight that slanted over your features, noses only inches apart and he swallowed down a choked curse when he remembered you were probably still expecting an answer.

He licked his lips, unsure of how much he could give away, and shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. "S’really nothin’ for you to worry about princess, the date was fine and she was… great - incredible actually - we just, uh, mutually decided there was a point in taking it past a one time thing.”

The silence stretched long enough that Eddie wondered if he was maybe more wasted than he'd thought. He must have been if the question of whether telling you the truth was really as bad as he'd feared was nudging at his brain, the consequences seeming a lot less daunting the longer allowed himself to consider it.

Because there you were, looking at him with the prettiest confused expression he'd ever seen and all of a sudden it felt like the worst crime in the world to lie to you. That you deserved more than the way he'd been continuously lying to you for years and if there was the slightest chance - which sometimes he thought there were signs there could be - that you wanted him to be the one who gave you more, then he had to take it, right?

"I don't understand,” you said slowly, face scrunched like you were trying to figure out if you missed something somewhere in his explanation, like you were trying to hide how the boy calling Sarah - Sam - whatever her name was - incredible in a dazed voice had made your stomach twist. "If she was so amazing and the date was a hit, why wouldn't you want to see her again?"

"Well turns out no matter how awesome a girl is, she doesn't really wanna waste time trying to date someone who's in love with someone else.”

"Makes sense-" you shrugged, and then it sunk in what he had said. "-no, wait, hang on - what?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, a little shaky, a little rough, and despite the easy grin he tried to offer, there was an undeniable bloom of nervousness unfurling in his eyes, “crazy right? I mean I expected her to leave when she figured it out but then she stayed and even tried giving me advice, which maybe me taking wasn't the best decision 'cause it involved some liquid courage and telling the girl how I feel but I kinda took the first part too far, which is how I ended up like this– ”

He gestured wildly to himself and when his hands dropped back to rest on your bare thighs it took all you had not to flinch. Your brain felt fuzzy, chest too tight, and suddenly every part of your body that was pressed to his felt like it was in agony. A new kind of torture.

Eddie was in love with someone else.

And he hadn't even told you.

"Eddie–” you murmured weakly, because christ , he was still talking and you just really needed him to stop .

"-she originally offered to help make her jealous, which was fuckin' insane , I thought that shit only happened in movies. I gave it a hard pass cause it seemed sleazy, like a total dick move, y'know. Didn’t seem right to mess with her like that and I don't think I even could if my life depended on it-”

Fuck, this hurt worse than you had ever imagined. A dagger shoved deep between your ribs with every word, twisting until you thought you’d be sick with it.

'Eddie.” You repeated, only a little stronger this time. but to your horror, you could hear the painful edge that made your voice shake.

You wanted to slam a hand over his mouth.

You wanted to crawl as far away from his touch as you possibly could.

And yet you were painfully still.

A statue in Eddie’s lap, turned to stone like those poor souls you’d read about in a mythology book when you were a kid except here there was no terrifying creature to blame, just your best friend who was breaking your heart without even realising.

Oblivious to a tear that welled and spilled over your lash line, dripping onto the shirt that you were suddenly wishing wasn’t his as he pressed on.

God, you felt pathetic.

"Felt wrong just thinking about it,” He rushed out and maybe if you weren’t so upset you would have put it together. The way he was rambling like he couldn’t speak quick enough, like he would lose his nerve if he didn't, lungs burning and eyes darting over your face, anxious, as if his heart would give out if he looked away for even a second. Fingers tapping too quick on your thighs. “Touching someone, kissing them, loving them, even if it’s pretend, shit I can’t even remember the last time I thought of doin’ those kind of things with anyone else that wasn’t-”

“Wasn’t her,” You interrupted, head ducked to hide your embarrassment when the words slipped out scathing, a little more heated than you intended. The burn behind your eyes grew stronger as you tried to climb off him, numb fingers clumsy, grappling for purchase on his stomach so you could push yourself away. “I get it Eddie, fuck-”

He stopped you with hesitant hands wrapping around your wrists, squeezing soft when you didn’t immediately try to yank yourself out of his hold, drawing them to his chest in a plea for you to look at him and listen.

"-you.”

You froze, head snapping up to stare at the boy in disbelief, utterly stunned. Your heart spasming before it began to pound so hard you thought it would splinter bones as you tried to figure out if you had heard him right, if he had said what you thought he had, if you dared to ask him to repeat himself just in case he had.

It felt like the world had slowed for a moment, like it was trying to give you a chance to push past the rush of blood in your ears that was drowning your ability to think straight, to decide whether Eddie had misspoken or not and if he hadn't, did that mean it was finally time for you to stop hiding.

Did you even know how?

The answer came when the winds outside grew into a storm. The patpatpat of rain on the roof coming slowly at first and then all at once and each knock of a branch at your window sounded like the tick of a clock as the silence between you rolled on too long. It felt like a countdown, a warning that if you weren’t going to be brave now, you wouldn’t get the chance again.

So you fought the urge to rip yourself away, lowered yourself gingerly back down onto his thighs whilst Eddie watched you with wide eyes, a little hopeful, a little terrified, a little too aware that any wrong move could make you run for real next time. “Did you– what did you just say?”

"Wasn’t you.” He whispered and neither of you could take your eyes off the other, your own breath trapped in your chest as he took a deep breath before he continued. Voice growing braver like it was an obvious truth he was telling you and not one that felt like a bomb being dropped on your head. “I haven’t thought about anyone else since I realised I was in love with you.”

You inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from your throat that you couldn’t stop if you tried.

You wanted to ask him to say it again, you wanted to kiss the words from his mouth as he said them, you wanted to say it back, murmur it over and over into him until you were dizzy from lack of oxygen but you couldn’t. Because there were tears in your eyes and your throat, your lungs, were refusing to work, every part of your body suddenly paralysed whilst your heart tumbled wild behind your ribs.

Eddie licked his lips, parted and closed them again as tried to organise the mess of his thoughts into words.

He sat up and pulled you closer until your hips were flush, your thighs caged around his as he gently ran his thumbs up over the soft part of your wrists where your pulse hammered against the skin and you wondered if it was a gesture meant to soothe you or him.

If it was maybe for both of you.

A way to encourage you to touch him in whatever way you needed whilst he did the same, preparing himself to give a confession that he never thought he would get a chance to, that he hoped you would understand.

"I only asked Sam out because I thought you were never gonna feel the same and I just needed to get over it, ” He sighed, cheeks pink as he nervously analysed your expression from beneath his lashes. “Turns out she knew all along, figured out I was gonner that night at the hideout when you made me sing fuckin’ Bon Jovi.”

He said it teasingly, all false betrayal and shining eyes like you’d made him commit the worst kind of crime, like he was so in love with you that he’d sing that fucking song until his throat was raw if you asked again.

You let out a watery laugh and Eddie beamed at the sound.

His gaze lovely as it roamed your face, endlessly adoring when you swiped at a falling tear with the heel of your palm and melted because the boy had caught your hand in his before you could drop it, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss away the salt on your skin with a sweet tsk, voice like honey as he murmured, ‘c’mon, pretty girl, please don’t cry’.

"I couldn’t even deny it when she brought it up, y’know,” he chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead to yours, noses grazing until you sighed happily for him. “She wasn’t mad either, just told me I needed to grow a pair and tell you how I felt before someone else did, but it was like she’d fuckin’ me in punched me in the face. All I could think was, ‘shit, she’s right, what the hell am I doing’ .”

And then his smile faltered. His stare flickering away from yours like he was ashamed, lips twisting into a grimace, voice strained as his hands slid down your arms and dropped to the hem of your shirt to twist the material in his fingers.

"Thing is, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world when she said it, but then I was about to leave and it suddenly felt terrifying and the idea of calming my nerves with a drink didn’t sound like the dumbest one I’ve ever had.” Eddie admitted, closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again the disappointment in them made your heart ache.

“Not until I started hesitating the longer I was there anyway, overthinking and talking myself out of it, and then before I knew it I was wasted and I’d fucked up another chance to tell you. So I called Harrington instead, though I guess that kind of backfired too, huh?”

He was making it sound like it was all his fault that this had gone on so long but god, you knew what your own fear felt like. The things you told yourself daily to stop you from taking that plunge.

Had you both been using the same insecurities to hold yourselves back all this time?

"What were you so scared of? ” You coaxed softly, pressing a hand over the place where his heart thumped beneath the skin, fingertips toying with the chain that hung around his neck and when you’re other hand smoothed it’s way up to his jaw, thumb gliding along the edge of it, the boy leaned into your touch like he was starved for it. A ragged sigh slipping past his lips as his lashes fluttered.

"Messing everything up.” He explained quietly and the crack in his voice made you want to wrap your arms around him and smother him in affection. Refuse to let him go or ever doubt himself again. “Losing you. I didn’t know if you’d hate me for making things awkward if you didn’t feel the same and I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you in my life.”

"You could never do anything to make me not be in your life Eddie,” you told him, and if your words were soft then the look in your eyes was even softer. Lips pulling into a warm smile that he swore was pure light as your hand left his chest to tug teasingly at one of his curls. “Even if it’s something like turning up at my door, half gone, smelling like you’ve been dunked in whiskey, to tell me something that I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to hear from you.”

Eddie melted for you then.

“Yeah?” He breathed, his own grin blinding as his hands nudged their way beneath your shirt to curve around your bare sides, seeking out the warmth of you to ground himself because he could have sworn he was dreaming.

"Yeah.”

“Well shit, sweetheart,” he huffed out a soft laugh, a little giddy with relief, more drunk on you than whatever alcohol was left in his system. “If I’d known that I would have made Stevie boy haul my drunk ass over here a lot sooner. You have any idea how long I’ve had to suffer mourning about my feelings to him after one of his house parties for him to just tell me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep?”

Probably the same amount of time you’d endured Robin telling you to get a grip.

"No, but I’m sure Steve would gladly tell me if I asked,” you answered cheekily instead, letting out a terrible shriek of a laugh when the boy tickled your ribs and muttered that you better not dare.

It made him grin all stupid and lovesick, even more so when you bumped your nose against his and looked at him a little shy, a little hopeful as you asked, “Though maybe you could try voicing some of those feelings without the alcohol, y’know, just so I know they’re not a result of your brain being fried and so that when I say them back, you actually have a chance of remembering it in the morning.”

Eddie was enthusiastically nodding before you could finish, a brightness unfurling in his chest like the flowers that had snaked around his ribs when he met you were now opening up, blooming with what he felt for you. What you felt for him back. “Yeah, fuck, I can do that,” he murmured. “Anything you want.”

You were beaming, and if he could bottle the way it made him feel he would. Gone for the way you melted for him when he slipped a hand from beneath your shirt, dragging it slow up your spine until his palm was fitting itself around the back of your neck, just so he could feel you this close. Just because he could.

"Anything?” You repeated coyly, smiling when he sighed real pretty as you brushed some of his curls back.

“Anything.”

"You gonna take me on a date Munson?”

As if he was going to say no to you. Like he ever could.

He’d bring you the damn moon if you wanted it. The stars too because he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to you.

He pressed his nose to your cheek to hide the dopey grin that tugged at his lips, humming. “Mhm, how does tomorrow sound? Maybe upgrade our plans from grovelling duty to first date?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pondered, eyes fluttering shut with a smile, content to tease the boy by pretending to think about it as you tilted your head back for him when he pushed his face into your neck with an amused huff. “I kind of liked the idea of you grovelling all day and the plans you made were pretty tempting. What will the upgrade entail if I agree?”

“Same plans, I’d just get to keep touching you like this, hold you whenever I wanted, whenever you wanted me to.” He murmured, lips catching at your skin as he spoke, the hand that was clamped around your waist tightening when you shivered as he drew a line with his nose up to your jaw. “Maybe walk around with my hand in your back pocket the way I know you think is real cute. Use it to pull you in for a kiss when you’re looking far too pretty to be real, which is fuckin’ always, and I feel like m’gonna die if I don’t.”

Your chest hitched, lips parted and body feeling a touch too warm, because the thought of Eddie kissing you all greedy, a little too desperate to give a damn about where you were or who was around, was suddenly so consuming. Leaving you dizzy enough that you had to clutch at his shoulders, his neck, curling your fingers around his chain to keep yourself seated instead of falling back into the cushions and pulling him down with you. “Oh.” You breathed out.

He swallowed, hard.

And when he lifted his head his eyes were half-lidded, almost black beneath the heavy fan of his lashes, voice a low rasp that made you burn as his gaze flickered from your mouth to settle on yours. “Yeah, oh. ”

"How am I supposed to say no to that?”

His lips twitched. “Now you know how it feels when you ask me for anything.” He whispered hoarsely and you wondered if he could hear the chaotic hammering of your heart, if he could feel the vibration of it slamming into your ribs against his own.

The air between you was buzzing, electric, bloated with anticipation when the last couple of inches fell away as his face leaned closer to yours, mouth hovering over your own. his breath warm and smelling of smoke and whiskey, a hint of mint as he said your name, sticky sweet with heat and a longing kind of need.

He drew lazy circles under your ear with his thumb and it took everything you had not to let the pleading noise building in your throat escape.

"Yeah, Eddie?” You asked instead, so quiet that had he not been right there, you doubt he would have heard you at all.

You knew he had though when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture just like the way your fingers couldn’t stop their movements, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck and making him shudder.

"Can I kiss you now?”

It already felt like he was.

His mouth brushing yours as he spoke, each word the ghost of a kiss, a brief taste of the real thing that you were sure would shatter you entirely because jesus christ, this alone was making you feel like there were fireworks beneath your skin. The way your bottom lip caught between his stole your breath, a cracked noise bubbling up in your throat that Eddie inhaled and echoed back with a groan when you tilted your head and pushed your lips to his.

It was a fleeting thing, ending after a second because your brain had caught up and was telling you this wasn’t right. Not that kissing Eddie wasn’t right, it felt like the most natural thing you’d ever done, like you’d found a piece of yourself you hadn’t realised you were missing.

It was just the timing.

“Wait…” You murmured and Eddie drew back immediately, the hand that had been clasped around your neck pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear, cupping your jaw as his worried gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort he might have caused.

"Shit, I’m sorry.” He said gently, thick with guilt, full of concern. “Was it too soon? I swear I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything, fuck, sweetheart, I’d never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable y’know that right? And if I do by accident I want you to tell me or hell, punch me or something- ”

“-No, no, it’s okay Eds - Eddie listen, I’m not gonna hit you, jesus - I just,” You couldn’t get the words out fast enough for the way the look on his face was making your chest squeeze. Your hands flew to his face as you shook your head, stroking your thumbs over the arc of his cheekbones to quiet him whilst you gave him a reassuring smile. “I just don’t want our first real kiss to be when one of us is drunk, that's all. Is that okay?”

He blew out a breath, visibly softening, and then he was wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your nose, your cheeks, your forehead until you were both grinning, laughter still echoing above the sounds of the storm outside when he touched his forehead to yours. “Baby, of course it’s okay,” he murmured, “you just say the word, I’ll kiss you whenever you want me too.”

His words lit you up, warmth spreading through you until you were giddy with it. So full of affection for the boy that you thought you’d burst and it must have been contagious because Eddie was looking at you like he knew exactly what you were feeling.

"Kiss me tomorrow?” You whispered, unable to bite back your grin as you brushed your nose against his. “When I first wake up so I don’t think I’ve dreamed this whole thing?”

Eddie’s eyes shone and he squeezed you a little tighter, his smile becoming devastatingly lovely, stretching wide across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

And he did.

[zepskies]

Wanderlust

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂

I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.

Word Count: 650

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.

You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.

Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.

You couldn’t help yourself.  

You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.

You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.

You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.

“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”

You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.

“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.

Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.

If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.

You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.

You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  

Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.

“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.

“Like a tease,” he muttered.

You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.

Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.

“How about that?” you asked.

“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”

You smiled too.

“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”

“Mhmm,” he responded.

He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.

His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.

Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.

A girl could get used to it though.

AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next we have a fun, fluffy, angsty, smutty, 3-part Christmas special, Love Actually:

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

▶️ Next Story: Love Actually

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3