#i will have to figure out some things this weekend but i no longer feel like the world is closing in on me :)

[pollen]

i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture.

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[witchesverse]

ouija board. (kinktober)

pairing: demon!wandanat x fem!reader

summary: after playing with an ouija board and forgetting to say goodbye, you let two horny demons into the world of living.

content: noncon, slight daddy kink, pussy eating, fingering, summoning demons with an ouija board, possibility scary descriptions of the demons ??, dom!wandanat, sub!reader implying kidnapping.

masterlist

You laughed as Kate, with a big grin, revealed the hidden Oujia board and candles from her backpack. You sat across from each other and she placed the board and candles in the middle.

"You cannot be serious, Kate." You said with a laugh.

"I was promised by the guy that we can actually summon things!" She explained for what felt like the millionth time.

You sighed, "Fine."

The candles were lit around the board and you both had your fingers on the pointer. You didn't believe in supernatural things, but Kate was obsessed with them. Ouija boards were a joke.

"Okay, ask now."

You wanted to argue that this wasn't real, but Kate looked so excited and you couldn't ruin that.

"How many spirits are here?"

There was nothing for a few moments, then, the pointer moved to the numbers.

2.

"Kate, you so just moved that."

"I swear I didn't!" She whined, "Ask again."

You rolled your eyes, not believing her.

"Who is here?"

It moved again.

D. A. D. D. Y.

"Daddy?" You laughed, "This spirit is a freak."

Kate urged you to continue asking.

"Where are you?"

B. E. H. I. N. D. Y. O. U.

You felt a chill run down your spine and glanced over your shoulder, seeing nothing. You cleared your throat and prepared to ask another question but Kate's phone rang.

"Shit. It's my mom, she knows I snuck out." Kate declined the call and stood, "I'll see you next weekend?"

You nodded, "Yeah, see you then."

At 3AM, you woke to the sound of your phone pinging with notifications.

katie <3: fuck. y/n did you say goodbye to the ouija board?

you: no?

katie <3: fuck fuck. dude, ur meant to say goodbye so you can close the door and stop spirits from entering the world of living.

you: sure kate. goodnight.

You switched your phone off and rolled over, wanting to get some sleep. In the corner of your eye, you noticed something in the corner of your room. It looked to be some type of human figure but deformed in a way you couldn't describe. Your window and door were closed, yet you felt a gush of cold air flow over you and shivered.

Your heart began to pound and your skin crawled with discomfort.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your room.

Kate is playing a stupid prank on me.

You sat up and reached for your light switch but your wrist was grabbed and long, cold fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly.

Your eyes widened and a whimper left your throat.

Minus the large horns, razor-sharp teeth, skin that appeared to be shattered, freezing cold skin, and dark black blood oozing from the body; it looked human.

"What the fuck are you?" You screamed.

The creature attempted to smile. It looked unnatural and made you feel sick to the stomach.

"Shouldn't have left the door open. You let daddy right in" It, no she, spat.

Your eyes widened. Kate wasn't joking about the Ouija board and leaving the door open. You had let two spirits into your home.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"God, do mortals ever shut up?" Another female voice spoke with a thicker accent.

The hands around your throat were removed, and the new spirit caressed your face with the back of her hand. She looked similar to the other spirit.

"What are you?" You questioned, voice shaking.

"Demons, sweetheart." She swiftly replied "Hurry up, Natasha. I don't want to be here much longer."

Natasha, the first demon, ripped your blanket off your body. You cried out as she did the same to your clothes. You tried to crawl away from Natasha but she grabbed onto your hips and pinned you down.

"Go on, Wanda." Her tone was teasing "I know you want and miss it."

Wanda barred her teeth at Natasha, making your heart drop. It was a terrifying sight.

You tried to fight Natasha's hold, but she easily overpowered you and manhandled you until you were lying on your back and bare. She wrapped her arms around your thighs to keep them open and settled between them.

"Fuck you." Wanda hissed, sending Natasha a glare.

Natasha snarled and dug her fingernails into your thigh, making you whimper. You didn't understand their feud, but it seemed somewhat playful.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as she squeezed your cheeks, forcing your tongue out and sat on your face. She rocked her hips back and forth, sighing in contentment as the pleasure spread across her body.

"That's it, baby," Natasha muttered, watching Wanda intently.

It was strange, but you didn't want to fight back. Your clit was throbbing and your skin felt hot. Your brain felt hazy and you struggled to form a thought that wasn't about pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around Wanda's thighs and pulled her closer. You alternated between lapping at her dripping cunt and sucking her clit.

Natasha slipped two fingers inside of you and kitten-licked at your clit. Her fingers felt like they were made for your pussy. Your walls clenched around her and you mewed loudly.

Wanda groaned and panted above you. Her slick was dripping down your chin to your neck. The taste of her was addictive.

"I'm gonna cum." Your words were muffled by Wanda, but the demons heard you. "Please, can I cum?"

"Oh, this one has manners, Natty." Wanda laughed above you. Her laughter was strained and whiney.

"Hold it." Natasha snapped.

You whined loudly, wanting to fight Natasha on her decision, but you felt like that would do more harm than good.

Wanda grabbed at your hair and pulled you further into her cunt. Her hips stopped grinding against your face and you moaned as spurts of liquid hit your face.

Your orgasm quickly followed.

You found yourself in Wanda's arms when you came down from your high. She caressed your face with the back of her hand with that sick, inhumane smile.

"I think we're gonna keep you."

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[luveline]

If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…” 

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 

“I do?” you ask finally. 

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 

[planetaryupscaled]

Dirty Laundry

Male Reader x Anna

Tags: 22k, smut, cheating, oral, roleplay, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Another shift was finally over, and now I was filthy and hungry from all the dirty boxes that I had lifted. I used to clock out exhausted from all the strenuous work, but lately I’ve been feeling more—worn out.

I’d been working for a couple years to get me through college, as the early morning hours coordinated well with my classes. Being in the midst of summer break however, my schedule was more flexible, so I headed straight home.

I was greeted by a bright sunny, 'Good morning!' the moment I stepped into the apartment, bouncing my way from down the hall. It was my roommate Anna, who was often just waking up when I came home from work.

Anna was an ex-girlfriend, but after too many fights and a hundred petty differences, I was thrilled to call her ‘just a friend’, and somehow, my roommate.

As the lease ran out on my previous place, I was desperate for a quick renter to help with expenses. Anna happened to be searching as well, and suggested we split a place together seeing as how we both had steady partners. It seemed ridiculous at the time, but the fact that we were otherwise attached was the only reason we had even considered it.

Anna was definitely a great friend though, and we got along better when we weren’t emotionally involved; I had to figure there was a chance we could make it work. We each assured our significant other the arrangement would be totally platonic, despite our history, and that we just needed a good living solution for a while.

My girlfriend Minji, who lived and worked outside of town, was hardly thrilled in the slightest. The girls knew each other from school, and didn’t really see eye to eye. Minji actually warned me if I ever hooked up with Anna while we were living together, she’d have me hunted down. She wasn’t joking.

But with that said, we moved in.

It actually worked out well as we got settled. Anna worked in the afternoon and went out with her friends or boyfriend after work. I would hit the bed early in the evening and was up early in the morning. The only time we even saw each other was on the weekends, or early on summer mornings.

-

“What smells so good?” I called down the hall.

“I’m making breakfast,” Anna shouted back, “I’m glad you came home.”

“Well I’m starving, thanks for cooking!”

I set my things down in the hall and considered a quick shower. I was excessively grungy, and I’d typically hop right in after walking through the door.

“You’re welcome, and it’s almost ready so don’t shower,” she said.

I walked into the living room and sat on the couch, flipping on the small TV and rambling through some channels.

Anna padded out in her bare feet and a long baggy T-shirt, flopping down next to me on the couch. “So how was work?” she asked, looking clean and fresh, especially compared to me. Her long brown hair was damp and smelled like flowers. She pulled her bare legs up underneath her and looked at me for a reply.

“Same as usual,” I sighed. “Jimin asked if I wanted to jam with him this weekend, so I think I’m heading over there tonight.”

“Sounds cool,” she said, “What does he play?”

“I hear he has a pretty impressive drum kit,” I said, getting excited thinking about playing it again.

“You’re kidding, that’s amazing!” she said, placing a hand on my leg with her eyes wide.

I felt a little awkward as her hand stayed on my leg for longer than it seems. I didn’t think much of it really; Anna was just a touchy person. That was how she talked to people, and I was well aware of it.

I glanced down at her hand, which she moved a little to let me know she realized it was there. My eyes also registered the fact she wasn’t wearing much under her shirt, as her bare leg kept going as it crossed underneath her body.

Anna was hardly self-conscious and could be pretty casual around the apartment. She would often take advantage of having a roommate she knew had seen her in all her glory, and would forget certain civilities she’d typically have in place for anyone else. In the mornings she knew it was just us, a couple of good friends who could hang out in whatever they happened to be comfortable in.

“I’ll need to grab some new strings and fix my car if I’m going to play with them this weekend,” I said, trying to keep my eyes to myself.

Working at the warehouse store was like an intense exercise every day, so my blood was warmed and my skin was sensitive to every input. The strange combination of her soft hand on my thigh and the sight of her smooth bare legs started getting to me.

“Where are you going then?” Anna asked, completely unaware of my racing mind, “to play I mean.”

“He lives on campus,” I half gulped, “just down from fraternity row. They soundproofed the walls in the basement so we should be able to get pretty loud.”

She rolled her eyes at that one. Anna wasn’t a fan of rock music, and constantly mocked my tastes. Not that I didn’t give it right back. Our little conversations always gave us gentle reminders of why we were just friends, and never fared well as a couple.

She finally withdrew her hand and crossed her arms next to me and looked at the TV.

“The breakfast should be just about done,” Anna said with a hint of pride to her voice, “I sure hope you’re hungry…”

I looked down at myself and shuddered at how much dirtier I got with all the sweating and lifting we did at work. I was amazed again at the stunning contrast of Anna’s clean shirt and smooth legs right up next to my grunginess. Glancing down, I noticed something else.

Once Anna had folded her arms, the lowest edge of her shirt rode up and I could see more of her hip, like, all of it, and it was completely bare! Now I had to wonder if she was sitting next to me without anything on under there. The thought really got to me because, even for her, that was a little much.

She kept talking but I stopped listening. My jeans were getting tight and I felt my throat drying up. I knew I’d seen it all from her a thousand times, but there was something about the morning sun and my sore muscles that made it that much more sensual.

I was sure she thought nothing of it. I mean, I know she was well aware she was sitting next to me in just a T-shirt, but to her it didn’t mean anything. Anna was just padding around our place like it was home.

I felt bad for noticing and thinking it was sexy of her to sit around with no underwear on. My girlfriend Minji was gorgeous, but definitely not as open about her assets as Anna had always been. I started to smile on the inside, thinking I was pretty lucky to have such a carefree spirit for a roommate, and one who even cooked breakfast.

The timer rang over the oven, to which she placed her hand on my thigh again to boost herself up. I followed her with my eyes, and the shirt fell quickly into place, covering everything I thought I had seen.

I tried desperately to get her near-nakedness out of my head by staring at the television, but I couldn’t do it. I was feeling strange and inappropriate, wanting to hit the shower to get my mind off of her, but it was too late.

“Oh, you’re going to like this,” Anna sang from the kitchen. “Come take a look!”

I hopped up easily, like one does after an extensive workout, and strode into the kitchen. I felt ten feet tall as I stood next to her petite form, she waved her hand over the shallow pan of molten food, wafting enchanting smells in my direction.

There was definitely bacon, eggs, maybe some hash browns and something else I couldn’t quite place buried in that dish of pure succulence. It was a breakfast buffet in a single pan, I was so hungry I could have kissed her for joy.

Anna put a couple cooling stands on the kitchen table and leaned over to set down the steaming pan. As she did, the neck of her shirt dropped silently away and my eyes wandered in without thinking. Sure enough, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of god damn clothing under there, her breasts hung naked off her chest, and a little tuft of curly fur was peeking up just beyond them, barely visible from deep inside that damn teasing shirt.

It was gone in a flash as she straightened and turned toward the oven, but man, my heart was racing.

My fingers shook as I picked up a spatula and started cutting sections from the dish as Anna brought us some clean plates and forks.

“Wow this smells insane,” I honestly groaned in admiration of her cooking prowess, while simultaneously trying to keep my mind off some of her other admirable qualities.

“Thanks!” she beamed as she sat down across from me, watching as I dished us both a plate, “you know how to make a girl feel appreciated.”

She stared at my hands as I pulled the succulent concoction from the pan. The mystery ingredient was definitely cheese, and it stretched from the pan to the plate like a rubbery web.

I pushed a piping plateful across the table to her and began a sizeable portion for myself. Once my plate was towering with food, Anna smiled a satisfied grin and took her first bite. I knew she liked it when I filled my plate; it meant I was really looking forward to her homemade cooking.

I sat down and started immediately digging in.

“Mmmm, this is incrwdbw!” I mumbled across a mouth full of delicious food just before I swallowed. “Where did you learn to make this?” I asked, pulling another heaping forkful into my ravenous maw.

“Mom used to feed everyone before swing choir practice,” she said as she swallowed a more human-sized bite. “We’d all meet around six and eat this same breakfast dish before heading out in the morning.”

“Sounds like a good memory,” I said honestly, wiping some cheese from my chin with a napkin.

“A great memory, actually,” she beamed, half in remembrance and half proud of recreating another one of her mother’s fine dishes.

“She really knew how to cook, didn’t she?” I asked, poised to down another fork full of deliciousness.

“She was the best,” Anna replied with a positive light to her voice, “I’m so happy I get to cook for us every once in a while. Minho doesn’t really appreciate it that much.”

Anna’s boyfriend was an okay guy and he was actually a decent looking guy. He would come to our place only on rare occasions. Since Anna worked near where he works, they would often stay out, and as a result I rarely saw them together. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable coming over with me around, or maybe they just enjoyed going out all the time.

“You know he can come over any time,” I said, swallowing another mouthful of nourishment, “I’m happy to find other places to keep myself amused if you need some time together here.”

“I know, and you’ve always been great about that,” she said, “he’s just never keen on the idea of coming over. He never says why… or at least he has a good reason every time it comes up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up,” I tried to change the subject, “I for one — count myself lucky to be the primary recipient of your fantabulous cheffery!” Anna chuckled at that and we made small talk as we ate, drinking coffee as we did.

After we finished, I rose with my empty plate and contemplated filling it again; I felt like I could eat forever. I left it alone though and grabbed the pan, bringing it to the counter to cool before packing it away.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” she said over her cup of coffee. I turned to look, and from the side her shirt had pulled up casually around her waist again, like a T-shirt normally does. The way it was sitting on her legs made it very apparent she was indeed bottomless, sitting there with her bare butt right on the chair. She wasn’t looking at me, just sipping at her coffee and staring ahead.

I wanted to capture that moment, as it was pretty dirty in my own head. I knew she appreciated my tact about her casual demeanour, so I played it off as if it were the most normal meal we’d ever shared.

-

We definitely shared a lot over the years, and as we got older, our tastes drifted and our goals and dreams became canyons apart. Even though I always had a soft spot in my heart for Anna, I knew it would never work out for us in the long run.

She loved action and change, moving with the pace of the world. Nothing stayed in her mind’s eye for very long before she was off to the next shiny thing. She had always been that way, and it drove me crazy.

Me on the other hand, could rarely find something that even sparked my interest, but once I did, I’d dive into it head first. I loved to read, exploring ideas and subjects thoroughly when I found something fascinating. Anna was one of those fascinating subjects — once, and I knew everything about her. What her favorite musical number was, or who her favorite authors were.

We both realized we would never work together, but I had also been her go-to for sex between relationships as well. I rarely had a steady girl during those times, but I always welcomed her into my bed when a friendly visit turned intimate.

Sex with Anna always seemed to begin as a subtle game during our relationship and afterward. For example, she would stop by to discuss something ‘important’; then eventually she would have to show me the new bra she had purchased, or something just as signaling. She would casually lift her shirt to show off her bulging cups, and I would softly touch along their surface, appreciating the fine ‘quality of fabric’.

“It feels like it’d be very comfortable in there,” I would say, “the material is so smooth.”

“This is definitely the best one I own,” Anna would say, trying to keep on subject, “I mean you can’t even see my nipples through this one.” She would press her finger right there and push in a couple times, rubbing in a small circle where her nipple would be. Then she would drop her hand and wait expectantly for me to see what she meant.

“No, you sure can’t,” I’d say with my finger pressing in, “Are they hard?”

“A little I think,” she’d reply, “I guess I haven’t really tested them that far.”

So then I’d tease her nipple through the soft pad and pinch it a couple times to see if I could put it through the paces. I took my time with it, making sure I was really giving it the old boy scout try, while Anna just sat and watched my fingers press and pinch and squeeze and rub against her encapsulated breast.

“I still don’t see any nipple through there,” I would say after a time, “either this is one sturdy bra, or it’s not even hard.”

“Oh it’s hard,” she would reply, “see?” and with that she would pull her cup down and show me the knotted red nose on the face of her lovely naked breast. I would of course reach up and test it for hardness by tweaking it a little and looking intently while I did.

“Wow, I see what you mean,” I’d say and start to toy with it a little more softly in my fingers. As I concentrated on the bare button, she would pull the other cup down to show me how both her nipples were actually hard. I would pay equal attention to both, tweaking and pinching her stiff buds in appreciation.

When she stopped talking altogether and just breathed under my petting hands, I would slowly lean in and take a sweet nipple into my mouth. I wouldn’t lick it, I wouldn’t suck on it, I’d just leave her tender tip inside my mouth as I caressed the soft sexy skin around it with my hands.

At this point Anna would reach back and undo her bra completely, making some excuse for it like, “it even releases nicely without snapping back.” Not even she cared about that.

“Mmmm,” is all I would say around her wet nipple, sucking as much of her naked tit into my mouth as I could possibly fit.

At that point we were definitely going to be having sex, and very quickly she would just pull me up for a long sensuous kiss while we worked on shedding our clothes.

Sex with Anna was always fantastic, and I think she liked having it as often as any man. Her tastes were a little risqué, but not overly kinky. She liked to play games in the bedroom, and I always found it to be highly stimulating to say the least. She would willingly trade oral favors, and always had an orgasm during our little trysts, sometimes many.

I could continually depend on memories of our encounters to get me erect if I needed something hot to think about on a solitary bout. Having living together with Anna was a constant reminder of these times for sure, but we had also spent so many periods of being strictly friends with zero benefits, it was easy to see her as just a great friend as well.

-

I couldn’t help but wonder this morning whether she was just being extremely casual or if she was seeing what I would do if she let it hang out a little in front of me. Probably the former; it was more than likely I was just worked up.

“Okay, now I really need to take a shower,” I said.

“Yes you do,” she said, “I haven’t seen you looking that dirty in a long time.” She sipped her coffee while looking me in the eye and winked.

Now she was toying with me. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid, like saying what came out of my mouth next…

“Yeah, I keep forgetting how dirty you’ve seen me get,” I said as I walked out of the kitchen and headed down the hall. I knew for a fact I would get a snappy reply, and her predictable nature shone through like a beacon as I heard her call after me.

“I seem to recall you having a thing for getting pretty dirty for a while there.”

“You know me well Anna!” I called back as I closed my bedroom door firmly. I chuckled to myself. I really liked the playful banter we always shared. Too bad it always had to end up in some kind of crazy dramatic bullshit whenever we got together.

I put on some music and started to peel the thin layers of grimy work clothes off my body. It felt so good to be free of them after a long sweaty morning of lifting dirty boxes. I grabbed a clean towel from the dresser and headed out to the bathroom.

I hurried past Anna’s room in my underwear, as I noticed she was back in there again. She was across the room digging through a pile of clothes on her closet floor. She was bent at the waist with her feet apart, and as I walked by, I swear I saw her full naked butt sticking out.

I stopped dead in my tracks past her door and leaned my head back to see around the frame again.

Whoa… that was intense! Her creamy calves and thighs were full length on display as her shirt was covering none of it. I could almost see her lips between her bare ass cheeks, and as I looked harder, I noticed her shirt had actually slipped to her shoulders, her pale naked breasts hanging free and upside down.

She was clearly searching for something and I dared not linger, staring at my platonic roommate in all her exposed glory. I made my way quickly to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

Holy shit, that was something else, Again I knew I had seen this girl a thousand ways, but that wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

I climbed in and started the water running. The vision of Anna bent at the waist was burned in my mind, and I started getting hard; very, very hard. I wanted badly to take care of it right away, but I just couldn’t do that with her right across the hall.

It quickly occurred to me that since my bedroom door was closed, it also made a distinct noise when I popped it open. It also occurred to me that even though Anna looked to be very concentrated on her task of digging for clothes, she must have been keenly aware she was basically bent over nude as my door popped open, right?

Is she wanted me to see her like that? She might have even set it up to be in that compromising position as I walked by, hoping, no… knowing I would catch her.

It wasn’t looking good for me. I knew how weak willed I got around women, and so did she. What I wasn’t sure of was whether she was just playing or if she was seriously trying to get with me.

I thought about it while I showered and came up with a quick idea to find out.

-

“Hey An, can I borrow you for a second?” I called out from the running shower.

I heard the door open and saw a blurry head through the smoked glass door appear. “What is it? I’m trying to get my laundry together,” she told me.

“Well, you don’t have to do this, but I could use a little help.”

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

“Okay, well what is it?” Anna said simply.

“It’s kind of weird. I totally wouldn’t ask if I could think of anything else,”

“You can ask me anything, I don’t mind. Do you need help with your hard-on or something,” she teased.

“Ha, you wish!” I teased back, “I just need you to scrub my back really hard with this loofa. After working out so much in the dense heat every day, my back is drying up and it’s driving me crazy. I have no way to get to it. I know it’s weird and all, and you can wait until I’m out of the shower if you want.”

“Don’t be dumb,” she replied, “You need some good soap and probably an exfoliating scrub for that. Hold on.”

I listened intently as she started digging around in one of the overflowing drawers of her beauty supplies.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“I told you I need my exfoliating scrub,” she replied.

“I don’t need any of your lady potions, I just need a good chunk of tree bark or something.”

“Ha ha Mr. Funny Guy,” she snorted, “this isn’t a potion, it’s a scrub that’s full of emulsifiers for removing dead skin.”

“What the hell is even emulsifier?”

“Jeez, it’s like liquid soap with sand in it. It’ll really scrape at your back,” she said in a huff.

“Oh, that sounds okay,” I said, “Should I just sit on the edge so you can foliate my back?”

“Ex-foliate.”

“Whatever.”

I turned off the water and cautiously slid the door open. Anna was standing there with a shiny white tube of something in her hand. She waved it at me and gave me a “Well?” look. I opened the door wider and kept my body behind the protective cover of the glass, laying a wash cloth over the sharp door track.

“Good idea,” Anna said, “hand me your loofa.”

I reached my hand out with the spongy ball, and then turned around and sat on the edge of the tub with my back facing out.

“Wow, you really do need this don’t you? Poor guy,” she said as she inspected my exposed back with her light touch. She dragged her fingers up and down my rough and peeling skin, which had honestly been driving me insane.

“You aren’t going to be looking at anything else are you,” I asked with a wry twist.

“Just your back,” she quipped at me, “and anything else you might leave hanging out.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I shot back.

I heard the sink turn on behind me and the water splashing around. Then Anna returned with a wet loofa dripping down my back.

“Let me get some of this on you first,” she said, completely business-like.

I felt the first squeeze of cream drip out onto my upper back and then she spread it around, working its way down to my lower back. It was thick and felt like peanut butter.

“There, that should be plenty, now this might hurt a little,” she warned and started dragging the scratchy cream around on my back, starting between my shoulders. It was very abrasive, and the way she moved the loofa I could tell she was adept at using this type of product effectively on dry skin.

At one point I felt a hand resting on my lower back while the loofa in her other hand worked its magic.

“How’s that, does it hurt?” Anna asked.

“Not really, but I can definitely tell it’s working,” I said, trying to keep my balance on the edge of the tub.

“Well, this should really peel that junk off of there for you,” she added putting her back into it.

“Thanks for doing this,” I said.

“Oh please,” she said as she pushed downward using two hands now, “It’s nothing, now lean forward a little.”

I leaned over and felt her hands rubbing the lotion around on my back without the loofa now.

“This should sit for a minute before we scrub it out,” she mentioned, and then she chirped, “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“I got it all over my shirt,” she said.

“Well rinse it out,” I suggested.

“No, I’d have to take my shirt off,” she feigned, “and I would be topless.”

“Why, aren’t you wearing a bra?” I slyly asked.

“Well, if you must know… I’m not.”

“What!? Well, I don’t think you should be in here like that. In fact, maybe you should just leave; I’ll take care of it.”

“Please, like I’m that much of a prude I wouldn’t pull my boobs out in front of you,” she proudly stated, “There’s nothing here you haven’t seen before.”

“True. Go ahead then, I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s something else,” she muttered.

“There is?”

“Yes...”

“Well?”

“I’m actually only wearing this shirt,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What!? So you’re naked under there?”

“It’s just that I’m out of clean everything and I’m getting ready to do the laundry just now,” she quickly explained.

“Well, I guess that is a little much,” I resolved, “that’s okay An, I’ll take it from here.”

“What if you promised not to look,” she suggested.

“I could do that, I guess,” I said, “This is just between us then? I wouldn’t want your boyfriend getting all pissed that his girlfriend was giving me a naked back scrub.”

“Please,” she retorted, “He gets hugs and shoulder rubs and who knows what else from the groupies that are always climbing all over him. I wouldn’t care if he did find out. What about M-i-n-j-i?” she sang her name out like a child.

“Minji is Minji I guess. I’m not sure what’s going on there,” I revealed honestly, “I mean I’ve been giving it a try, but I’m not really expecting much.” While I was talking, I heard what sounded like a piece of clothing coming off.

“An?”

“What.”

“Are you naked?”

“Yes~,” she replied with a familiar hint of playfulness to her voice, “now don’t get all excited, this is strictly business and just between friends.”

Yeah right. I knew better, and her dander was definitely up at this turn of events. I stayed leaned over looking at my feet in the tub while I heard her rinsing out her shirt in the sink. When she was done, she came back and rubbed her hands into the lotion on my back.

“Oh, that’s definitely working, just a little more,” she said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “So not expecting much huh? That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, and it seemed so good at first,” I said, trying to keep my mind away from the fact that Anna was standing behind me, completely nude.

“I could tell she was no good for you...” she stopped, quickly correcting herself, “I mean — what I meant was, she doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

I could feel her leaning a little closer, with her hand still on my shoulder. Something, a bare hip perhaps was up against my back. She started rubbing my shoulder and stammering on.

“You need someone who will be there for you a hundred percent,” she was absentmindedly stroking my neck now. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’ve already moved on, in your head at least.”

“That could be,” I agreed, “I’m just never sure in these situations. I just seem to get caught up for too long.”

She let go of my shoulder and moved back to the sink to add some water to the loofa. When she came back, I felt the water dripping down my back and onto the washcloth under.

“I know you do,” Anna said as she started scrubbing my back again with both hands, “You seem to be unable to have an uncomfortable conversation when you need to. You just have to level with Minji about where the relationship is going; seriously.”

Her vertical scrubbing turned into quick swirling circles on my back.

“I know, there’s just never a good time,” I confessed, “we’re always around other people. When we’re finally alone I’m too exhausted from having been up so early that I have just enough energy to, well…”

“Have sex?” she blurted out, ��I know what you do, I can hear you two going at it in there.” One of her hands left the loofa and rubbed my bare skin on its own while she continued to drag this out. My back was clearly exfoliated by now.

“You can?” I asked, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “We’re roommates, that how it goes sometimes. Just turn up your music a little louder next time.”

My face burned and I chuckled, “Okay, I’ll try to remember.”

Then Anna was done with my back and said, “That should do it. Now stand up while I rinse this out. I need soap in here next to get that scrub off.”

She turned to the sink behind her and I took that opportunity to get my naked body behind the screen. My erection wasn’t full or anything, but I still wanted to keep this game going. It was kind of fun to see how far we could push it.

“Okay, you’re going to have to rinse this,” she said, “The sink isn’t getting the lotion out.”

I turned the water back on and put my hand outside the door for the loofa. She placed it in my hand and I could see the cloudy silhouette of her naked body behind the glass. I ran the loofa under the stream of water and turned the dial head to massage. That was working, but also spraying water out the open sliding door.

“Hey!” she started, “You’re getting me all wet out here.”

“Sorry,” I said over the sound of the water as I finished.

“Now put some body wash on there and hand it back,” she said.

I squirted a good amount of wash onto the loofa and worked it into a frothy lather. I held it in front of the open door, but inside the shower.

“Perfect,” Anna said grabbing the soapy implement from my hand, “Now back over to me so I can reach.”

Tentatively I turned to face away from the door and backed over to it, knowing full well that she could see my naked butt as plain as day now. I decided to stay a bit into the shower so she would need to reach for it.

She quickly began to soap up my back and remove the thick lotion without saying a word.

“Ah,” she said frustrated, “the water’s spraying all over the floor, back up would you?”

I took a step back to the door and then she started really soaping up my entire back. It felt so good and she was so gentle. Her soft hands roamed all over my back and started getting most of my sides and then easing gently down my back. Shivers ran up my arms. The smooth soapy strokes were getting to me and I could feel myself getting harder underneath the spray of the showerhead.

She soaped my back and set both hands on my hips for a moment.

“Are you finished back there,” I asked, seemingly impatient, “I’m standing here naked you know.”

“So am I,” she came back, “in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten” I replied, “I am well aware that we’re both totally naked in here now. Can I rinse off?”

“Yep, all done,” she said handing the loofa around my waist, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, turning to the side to rinse off my back, showing clearly the erection she had caused with her soapy lathering.

“Whoa!” she announced, “you’ve got a hard-on!”

“No kidding, you were really soaping me up back there,” I said through the water spray with my eyes closed. I knew if I stood in the spray, it would allow her plenty of time to get a good look at my mostly erect cock.

“Oh, uh sorry about that,” she said, still lingering naked in front of the open door to the shower, “I didn’t realize it was having that… effect.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just take care of it myself once you’re gone. Thanks again!”

“Ew, all over the shower?” she acted very offended.

“No, not all over the shower,” I retorted from under the spray, “I just cum in my hands, and then I run it through my hair for extra lotion.”

“Yeah right,” she said, knowing I was teasing her, “I don’t think so.”

I peered quickly over at her and her eyes were glued to my cock, making it swell even more. Her eyes widened slightly. I peeked at her shapely breasts and bushy cleft through my watery squinted eyes. That wasn’t helping.

“So, tell me something An,” I said in a conversational tone.

“What?”

“Why are you checking out my cock?” I asked, looking her right in the eye.

“What?” she caught herself and stammered, “I wasn’t checking it out, I mean I didn’t mean to look, I was just… well you were standing there and I…”

“Haha, it’s okay,” I smiled and let my eyes wander unapologetically over her entire bare body. “I kind of like it. I mean, you’ve seen it all before too.”

“O-of course,” she said diverting her eyes and turning quickly to the face the sink. She caught my gaze again in the mirror however, and I let her see me look down to admire her naked ass in front of me.

“I know we’re playing with fire here,” I continued, “and I didn’t mean for it to get all weird. I just want you to know something.”

She turned back around to face me; I think her nipples were as tight as I’d ever seen them. “What?”

“This remains just between us, right?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied, “what is it?”

“I want you to know that you can look whenever you want to,” I said seriously, ‘Any time we’re alone and you want to see, just let me know.’ At that I turned to face her, my hard cock standing straight out in front of me. “Is that too much for you?”

“W-what?” she stammered off-guardedly, glancing from my eyes to my cock and back. I definitely got her at her own game, if she had been playing one anyway.

“I mean it,” I continued, “You just say, ‘let me see it’, and it’s out; just like this,” I said looking down. She looked at my wet cock again and there was a faint grinding of gears going on in her head. She looked up quickly.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” she said as she snapped out of it, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m going now, and leaving you with your hard-on, to do… whatever. Jeez!”

With that she grabbed her T-shirt from the sink and opened the bathroom door, stomping out of the steamy room.

I smiled wide to myself as I knew I got her, and also that she would absolutely bring it up again. That was the game, and she wouldn’t be able to let it go. Her mind would busily work on a plan for whatever reason. There was never any logic to her mind games, which is why our relationship never worked. I was too logical, and her little games only worked with me in the bedroom.

I finished washing up and didn’t feel the need to jerk myself off, I was too proud of my work. I dried off and strolled naked out of the bathroom with my towel over my shoulder to my room. Anna was nowhere to be seen, so I just closed the door and got dressed for the day.

-

I hadn’t seen Anna again that morning, and I assumed she was doing laundry as a way of avoiding me. I created an awkward rift between us and I knew it. I was okay with that, because I also knew she was very good at confronting an awkward situation once she knew how she would handle it. I couldn’t imagine what she’d come up with, but I did know she would escalate things rather than downplay them. What I didn’t know was why I even wanted that.

I headed out with my six-string in hand to the guitar shop and then to Jimin’s house to play some music, drink some beers and see where the weekend took us. I ended up having a great time with the guys, and crashed on their couch overnight on Friday. We played music all day on Saturday and got pretty loaded Saturday night. Having no desire to wake up in the same clothes again on Sunday, I grabbed a cab and made my way home.

I unlocked the apartment door to the sound of music and the smell of lemons. I knew immediately Anna was home and in cleaning mode. This was common on a Saturday night, as Minho would be working until about 1:00am.

I stumbled in feeling fairly inebriated and set my guitar case by the door.

“Hi,” I heard Anna call from the kitchen, “how was Jimin’s?”

“Hey,” I replied, rounding the corner to see her scrubbing the kitchen sink in her typical cleaning overalls and a hot pink T-shirt. “It was cool; those guys really know how to play. Who knew my classical training would actually come in handy one day?”

Anna was looking back at me occasionally over her shoulder while she continued to scrub. She dropped her sponge after a minute and rinsed her hands in the sink as I continued.

“In fact, I think we found a great style, combining Jimin’s technical drumming with my heavy riff… riffing… making, ness…”

“You’re drunk,” she said with a sly smirk as she looked me over, noticing the obvious impairment of my mental and motor skills.

“True,” I said, knowing she was well aware I would often stumble in as such on a Saturday night while she cleaned. It was getting to be a bit of a ritual. “What do we have to eat?”

She wiped her wet hands on a towel and opened the fridge, leaning inside. I liked her work overalls because they had holes in places that allowed me to see bits of skin peeking out. Even though it was mostly leg, there was something about it I found intriguing.

“I suppose you could make a sandwich,” she said, digging around in one of the drawers, “we have everything you need.”

A sandwich sounded perfect in my current state, and I walked up behind her and peered into the fridge over her shoulder.

“That shounds great,” I sort of slurred out, realizing I did as soon as it came out.

“Jeez you’re wasted,” she said as she stood up and turned to face me. Her nose came to about my chin as I looked down at her. I knew she had no sense of personal space, so her close proximity didn’t faze me as she looked up.

“I know,” I said, “I’m so ashamed.” I put my head down in mock despair.

“Yeah right,” she said with a gleam in her eye. I knew she loved having a position of power in a situation; and with me on the cusp of being actually drunk, she knew she could have fun with me. “Make your sandwich,” she said reaching up and tapping a row of dainty fingers against my cheek.

She stepped aside and picked up her cleaning gear again as I reached in and started gathering ingredients. I filled my arms, which in my current state was a struggle, and I thought I had it under control until a squeezable jar of mayo slipped from the bottom and crashed to the clean floor.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I brought the rest of the foodstuff to the adjacent counter, stepping over the bottle.

“You fool,” Anna said as she came back by me to retrieve the fallen condiment from her freshly cleaned floor. “You’re lucky it didn’t break. Here.” She handed me the bottle and I thanked her sheepishly as I turned in my daze to fabricate of some semblance of a sandwich. I could feel her eyeing my every move, watching to see if I’d even be able to build one in my stupor.

“You better let me do it,” she said as she saw me struggling just to get the twist tie off of the bread bag. “I can’t even imagine what you’d end up with if I let you go wild in my clean kitchen with all this stuff.”

She held out her hand and I placed the bread in it, stepping to one side to watch her easily pull out a couple slices.

“Thanks An,” I said, blushing at my inability to function at simple tasks.

“That’s okay…” she said, “I don’t mind taking a break from cleaning our kitchen to make you a sandwich. Let’s just say you owe me one.”

“Of course, I’ll clean the next time,” I offered as a way to make myself useful sometime in the future. It was all I had.

“I like cleaning,” she replied, spreading the mayo across the face of the crusty white bread, “what else you got?”

I couldn’t really think straight, so I just went with, “I dunno, what do you want?”

She was silent for a moment, and then softly said, “Let me see it.”

“Huh?”

“Let me see it, you know,” she looked up into my eyes and then down to the front of my jeans. “You told me to just say the word, and now I am. Let me see it.”

I couldn’t believe she was using this night to get back at me so quickly. She had me mentally on my heels and I could hardly form a complete sentence. I must have looked like a deer caught in her headlights because she set the knife on the counter and turned right toward me, putting her hands on her hips.

“I mean it,” she said with the mischievous gleam she’d often get in her eyes, “Let me see it and I’ll finish your sandwich. You’re the one who put it out there, and I know you weren’t drunk when you said it. Let me see it.”

I was caught in my own web. I had been trying to get her to flinch in the bathroom the day before, and it worked. I really didn’t expect her to come back at me with my own teasing game and call me out in the kitchen the first chance she got.

She stared at me.

Fortunately, my inhibitions were down from the beers so I shrugged my shoulders and reached for my zipper. Anna’s eyes were on my hands, her raised eyebrows framing an expectant look as if she was waiting for me to get out money I owed her.

My pants were undone and my boxers were all that remained between her keen eyes and my naked cock. I knew I couldn’t get out of showing her, and it was a little different than when I did it in the bathroom. In there she was naked as well, and I had a hard-on which helped me to look more… notable. Now it was just my drunken cock on its own, for whatever end.

“Well?” she said, “I know you don’t need help here, Let’s see it.” She knew she had me, and I knew it too. I pulled the front of my boxers down and there it was. I wasn’t completely flaccid, thankfully, and my cock emerged as Anna’s eyes widened.

“Ah, there it is,” she said as she stood and stared at my stuff for few long seconds. “I have to admit, I thought you were full of shit yesterday, but you did it.” She pulled her eyes away, turned, and just continued with my sandwich. I stood there with my right thumb pulling my boxers down and my cock out for no real reason. I figured I did what I said I would, so I covered back up.

Anna started piling on cold cuts and said, “Minho is working extra late for whatever the thing they’re doing, so I’m hanging here tonight, is that cool?” Her eyes were on the sandwich.

“Sounds good to me,” I managed, zipping up my fly. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be of much company but we can hang out if you want.”

“Either way, I’m going to finish cleaning before I do anything,” she said as she folded the bread over, finishing the sandwich. “Here you go.”

She turned and handed me the plate with the scrumptious looking sustenance atop it. I took it from her and she kept my gaze.

“Thank you for showing me,” she said politely, “you have a very nice cock.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I started, not sure what to say, and off my game completely, “any time.”

Any time? Did I just say that? I took my sandwich and sat down to eat while Anna continued tidying up in the kitchen. I watched her ass stretch against the thin overalls as she bent over to clean the cupboard doors under the counter. I was admiring the bits of thigh peeking out as always and my brain seemed to be fixated on her body as I ate.

She looked back, seeming to catch me staring at her and asked “How is it?”

“How is what?”

“The sandwich dummy,” she chuckled, “what did you think I meant?”

“Fantastic!” I blurted out, steamrolling right over her question, “I’ve never tasted anything so good.”

She smiled knowingly at me and turned around again to finish her work.

Eventually I finished eating and Anna had cleaned her way into the next room. I put my plate in the dishwasher and wandered into the living room where Anna was dusting. I stood there wondering if should sit; I couldn’t very well help, and she seemed to sense this and looked at me.

“Are you going to watch something?” she asked, carefully wiping the top of a lamp with a dirty cloth.

“I’m not sure,” I said, slightly swaying in place. “I feel like I should be helping.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “You would do more harm than good. Besides, I like cleaning. It’s my Zen time, and you don’t have to feel guilty about letting me do it. Why don’t you go get comfortable and I’ll be done in here in a minute.”

It was a great suggestion and I nodded, turning my heel and making my way down the narrow corridor to my room. As I passed Anna’s room, I noticed that there was a pair of her panties on the floor right inside the door. This was quite typical, as oddly enough her bedroom always seemed to be the messiest room in the house, but it caused my mind to flash back to the image of her bending over and digging through her laundry. I started getting aroused again, and moved quickly into my room to escape the reminder.

Knowing Anna was busy, I didn’t close the door and just unbuttoned my shirt and pants, looking for my sweat shorts. I couldn’t find them so I just grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on. She had already seen my dick tonight; I should be fine in my boxers I figured.

I wandered back out and Anna was just finishing her dusting and putting away her things. She looked up at me, gave me a once over, and said, “Perfect, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that she hoisted her cleaning products carrier up and made her way to the kitchen closet to tuck it away. I sat on the couch and found the remote on the gleaming coffee table. I was pretty lucky to actually live with someone who enjoyed cooking and cleaning. I would never ask her to do any of these things of course, being perfectly capable myself… well, sober anyway.

She walked past and down the hall to her room, and I flipped through the channel guide to see what was on. I found some documentary, and put it on to be funny, although it turned out to be quite interesting.

When Anna came out, she still wore the same pink shirt with short socks, and I couldn’t tell what else. It was probably either just her underwear or nothing again, as all I could see was leg to the hem of the long shirt which came to about mid-thigh.

“What the hell are you watching?” she said, sitting on the couch near me but comfortably distant. I was happy for the space as my cock started to harden as I pictured her naked again and smelled her sweet perfume settling over me.

“Just a documentary,” I said, trying not to stare at her bare legs. She reached over and flipped off the main lamp, and the TV lit up the darkened room.

“Give me that,” she said, holding out her hand. I handed her the remote with a smile, and her eyes met mine. They had a hint of mischief to them and she glanced down to my boxers. I looked down to see they were starting to tent and leaving little to the imagination.

I looked back up and she was already aiming the remote at the cable box and flipping through the channels. After a minute she finally stopped on an old movie and said, “Oh, here we go. Let me see it.”

“Sure, we can watch this,” I said, and then, “wait, what?”

“You heard me,” she said looking me in the eye as she set down the remote. “You said any time. Let me see it.” The look in her eyes was challenging.

I knew right then that I was paying dearly for my mistaken cockiness in the bathroom. I really didn’t think she would even take me up on my teasing offer, let alone rub my nose in it.

“Fine,” I gave in, having little resolve left anyway. I found the open front of my boxers and reached in, finding my naked cock in a semi-erect state. I pulled it through the opening and lay it out in my lap for her to see. “How’s that?”

“Very nice,” she said, eyeing up my growing cock. I was getting more aroused than I had hoped. “You seem to be kind of excited.”

I looked at my bulging cock, “It would seem so. Have you seen it now?”

“I don’t know,” she said with the sly and teasing tone I knew so well. “You could put him away, but I’ll probably just ask you again, so why don’t you just leave him out for a while to save us the trouble?”

Now she was playing with fire. She wanted to me just sit there and watch TV with her, my bare cock lying out the whole time!

“Are you serious right now?” I asked incredulously.

“Dead serious,” she looked me in the eye with a challenging stare.

“I’ll take my chances,” I muscled up my last remaining nerve and tucked my member back inside my shorts.

“Fine by me,” she said and looked back at the screen. We sat there for a while as the movie played, and honestly, I couldn’t have cared a wit about it. It was some black and white romance thing from the 50’s, and I just never got those. I watched it though, waiting nervously for what I knew was sure to come.

“I’ll let you change the channel if you show me again,” she said out of the blue after about ten minutes. I couldn’t believe she was being so bold, and I was the one who had opened this door, all because I saw her bent over with her ass sticking out.

“Jesus An, what’s with you tonight?” I had to ask.

“Show me, I don’t need to explain myself. If I want to see your cock you have to show me, so let’s see it.”

I was in deep shit now, and I could only respond by lifting my ass up and sliding my boxers down my hips and to my ankles. “There, happy?” I retorted as she openly turned to stare at my nude lower half.

“I guess,” she said simply. “Nice cock. Do you still stand behind what you said in the bathroom?”

Thanks to the sandwich I was able to think about that one. It was a little thrilling to be sitting there with my cock out around her. I knew that neither of us could breathe a word of this to anyone, but we were also adults. “I do.”

“I’m glad,” she said and handed me the remote, glancing down to my cock again. I took the controller and started to surf channels, stopping on a movie I knew we would both enjoy, and it had just started.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she said, turning back to the screen. We watched for a few minutes, and then I saw her look at my lap again. She saw me notice and smiled sweetly. She was really getting off having my cock next to her to look at. My bulge had subsided, and I was a little happy for that, but not for long.

She must have noticed too, because she leaned back on the couch and pulled up a knee to her chest, allowing her t-shirt hem to drop down her thigh, exposing nothing but bare skin all the way to her naked ass cheek.

Fuck.

She had been sitting there again with a completely bare ass, and I had only just caught up when I dropped my boxers. The thought traveled instantly to my manhood and I felt it begin to inflate at a furious rate.

The little vixen! I saw her smirk and peek to the side to see if her little show had the intended effect, and of course it did. Now she really let me have it.

“Holy shit, are you getting hard right now??”

Damn you Anna. I pretended not to hear, or that I had no comment, and she continued to push me.

“What’s getting into you? I mean this movie isn’t that exciting, is it?”

“Did you just realize that I’m not wearing anything under here again? Is that it?” she added.

She knew it was. “My god, you’re totally hard, look at you! You really like knowing my pants are off don’t you? You’re so bad!”

“Me?” I finally said, “You were the one wearing almost nothing on Friday morning when I came home, and now?” I should have kept my fool mouth shut.

“Is that it? Is that what this was all about? Did I turn you on running around with just a shirt on in my own place? What were you thinking about my tits while you ate my home cooked breakfast?”

I was a little too annihilated to come up with a coherent response.

“You were!” a look of shock and accusation crossed her face as I looked away. “You can’t hide it! Is that why you called me into the bathroom? Did I get you all worked up?”

“You didn’t have to stay, or take your shirt off you know,” I was able to construct an intelligible sentence out of somewhere. My mind was still aware I was in hot shit.

“You liked that though, didn’t you? Did you get a good look?”

I didn’t want to fight with her sitting there with our pants off, so I tried to turn the tables. “Show me.”

“What!?”

“You heard me. Show me.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to say that. Only I do. That was your idea,” she squinted, her challenging eyes on me.

“I never said it was just for me to say, and it’s only fair. I’ve shown you, and now I’m totally out here. Don’t think you can handle the tension? Come on Anna… just show me.”

A slow and silent resolve crossed her face.

“Fine, just a peek,” was all she said, leaning back and dropping her foot to the floor. From there her legs slowly crept apart, the shirt still covering any view between her legs.

“I can’t see anything.”

She spread her legs wider, one of them touching my own as it moved. Her shirt crept higher until I could just see her curly little hairs and the protruding lips of her… pussy.

“Mmm, good girl,” I murmured in a cocky tone, and Anna instantly snapped her legs together.

I definitely recognized the telltale puffiness between her legs in my momentary glimpse, the shine of the television lighting her up. I’d seen Anna in this highly aroused state so many times. I knew how stimulating everything was to her once the heavy weight of arousal set in.

“Oh, you’re wearing panties,” l said, knowing full well she wasn’t, “I thought you weren’t.”

“I’m not, you dummy,” she said, her playful look telling me everything I needed to know. I sat silent for a minute, waiting patiently for her next move.

Slowly Anna parted her legs again, and the empty space between her bare thighs began to grow. This time she reached down and raised the edge of her shirt, clearly showing me her private fur in the process. She gently tilted her hips so her swollen lips puckered out clearly from underneath again.

“See,” she snorted, with as much of an act as she could muster. I knew her heat was rising. She loved the fact that my naked cock was right next to her and pumped full of steam. I was sure she knew she’d have me pull it out again, even while she was in her room changing. Her pussy was probably already soaking wet while she decided to come out in just a shirt.

Oh you horny little minx.

“Oh my god,” I said softly, ‘you’re serious.’ She let me stare between her legs for a minute, looking down there herself. “Look at that beautiful pussy,” I said, knowing compliments would keep it out a bit longer.

“Don’t get any ideas mister,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her own distended labia.

“Like what?” I asked with a hint of drawing her out in my voice.

“Like whatever ideas your hard-on is having there,” with that she turned her head and stared right at it. I looked at my cock and it was long and quivering with excitement.

“What, this hard-on?” I asked softly, wrapping my fingers around it and slowly pumping it up and down next to her.

Her mouth stopped working for a second as she watched me blatantly holding and stroking my naked cock in the bright glow of light. Her eyes were hooded and she seemed mesmerized by my movements.

Anna just watched in silence with her legs open, until her words finally appeared, “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer, I just kept looking between her legs and slowly moving my cock up and down my erect shaft in the dim light.

“I can’t help it,” I finally whispered, “I’m too hard.”

She seemed to snap out of it, and slowly pulled her thighs back together until they touched in front of her. Her shirt was still up however, and the curly hairs between her legs formed a little brown shrub in the middle of her deep crevice.

“Well help it,” she said quietly and somewhat begrudgingly.

“Fine,” I said, and slowly backed my hand away. My bare hardness pulsed with anticipation and excitement, lightly swaying of its own accord in my pants less lap. She could hardly force herself to look away, but did so and crossed her legs, folding her arms under her obviously unencumbered breasts. Her pointy nipples were so hard that a mere t-shirt was hardly a challenge for their aggressive prodding.

I knew better than to make any additional comments or take further action, as just my throbbing cock out next to her was surely driving her deeper into her own perverted fantasies. What we were doing was completely wrong, and against everything we swore to when we agreed to be roommates. We hadn’t crossed any physical lines, except maybe for the naked back scrubbing in the shower… shit.

We were already way over the line. Even my own cock knew how close it was to being submerged in the slippery pocket between Anna’s legs.

I had to focus on the screen and forget about the blatant innuendo pulsing in both of our laps. We were horny, that was certain. I should have gotten up and walked away, but the tension was delicious. I loved that we were sitting together, bottomless, unable to act on what we both had in mind.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as the movie played, until…

“God I wish we were single,” I admitted truthfully, but the fact remained… we weren’t.

“Why’s that,” she said with a curt but playful edge to her voice, “do you want to fuck me or something?”

I had to groan at her words, as she knew I loved hearing her say it out loud. I grabbed on my cock again and started squeezing it.

“Stop that,” she commanded.

“I can’t,”

“I just wanted to see it, not watch you fondle it,” she said, uncrossing her arms and pulling the hem of her t-shirt lower on her legs. “If I thought you’d be uncontrollable about this I would have gone to bed.”

“Sorry,” I said, stopping my motions and loosening my grip. The next move, I decided, was hers, and it took a while. After about couple of minutes, she finally looked at my cock again and I watched her eyes tracing it up and down.

“God… that looks so nice.” She said.

“It does?”

“Fuck. Of course it does!” she said as if I was crazy, “why else would I have you keep pulling it out? I miss what we had, a lot. No one else can compare, and for whatever reason sex was always great with us. Why do you think I kept coming back?”

“An easy lay?”

“Okay, that’s true, but it was more than that.”

She turned her body to face me, her arm and shoulder against the back of the couch.

“I always felt like I found my perfect fit with you,” she continued, looking me straight in the eye, “and everyone else gets compared, well… to this!” She gestured toward my protruding cock.

“But even though I would love to feel what we had again, I know it would only make things worse,” she admitted. “I was getting better, forgetting about what we had, but having you around all the time in such a personal environment… well, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea.”

“We both knew our torrid history An,” I said, turning to face her as well and letting my appendage lay where it may, “the odds were never in our favor.”

“I know,” she said, placing her hand on my arm, “and I think I liked it that way. I think I liked fantasizing about you more than I wanted to actually do anything about it, although right now I’m not so sure.”

Her eyes burned into mine with a fiery lust that made me want to push her backwards and let our bodies do what they were fully prepared to do.

“I know what you mean,” I said instead, trying to keep my ever-loving cool.

“Are you saying you fantasized about me!?” she asked with a playful twinkle.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped,” I admitted. “I know you too well. We’ve been together too many ways.”

Her eyes darted back and forth between mine. “What do you think about?”

I knew this was trouble. I was inebriated and logic was not my friend, and any fantasy I laid out could surely come back to bite me. Unfortunately, I was too turned on to care.

“Sometimes I think about the time we went to the park,” I revealed, “and how you wore those same overalls as tonight, a t-shirt and nothing else.” Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin.

“You had your hands in my pants the entire day,” she laughed, “I thought they were going to kick us out of there! Then, back in the hotel room, I bet his new girlfriend had no idea the kind of sex filled night she was in for when she agreed to come along.”

I laughed at that. “I tried to be sneaky, but you’re just too loud.”

She blushed and looked down, her gaze settling on my cock again. It was suddenly silent in the room as she stared at it.

“Gosh I want you so bad right now,” she said.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, knowing her twisted mind and the way it worked.

She looked up at me. “Yes.”

“My cock… sliding in… filling that empty space between your legs.”

All of our bedroom games came rushing back. I had forgotten them, forgotten how crazy in lust they made us, but in that instant it all came back.

“You asshole,” she whispered, not even close to being angry. The air was excruciatingly heavy with sexual tension and our breathing started to deepen.

“Take your shirt off,” I said, knowing she would. We both took ours off at the same time and sat together on the couch, the blue glow of the television reflecting across our newly bared skin.

“I love your tits,” I said in honest appreciation of them again, “but you really shouldn’t be showing them to me.”

“You asked for it,” she replied, grabbing a handful of her breast and lifting its weight up to me, her twisted bud aimed right between my eyes. My cock swelled, wishing we would just get it over with already.

“God, I want to taste you so badly right now,” I said, practically drooling down my chin over the sight of her bare breasts.

“You can’t,” she said, staring deep into my soul with her heat filled gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said, turning directly toward her on the couch. We sat face to face, our bodies naked and exposed to each other in the flickering darkness.

“Tell me An… does he eat your pussy? I mean… the way you really like it?”

The heat in the room was insane as my question caused Anna’s legs to slowly part and her free hand to slide lower on her bare body, down to her unfolding sex. I watched her fingers spread her wet lips apart and find her clit, massaging it with slow deliberate circles. I almost bit off my tongue as I watched her touch herself in front of me.

“This pussy?” she teased as my eyes climbed between her legs and tried to get inside for a closer look.

“He tries, but no one really enjoys the taste of me as much as you did. Do you still remember?”

Fuck. Of course, I did. I was practically smelling it again with the heat she was giving off.

“You know how much I love… used to love, your pussy,” I corrected myself, “and I used to keep loving it until you had to push me off, remember?”

Anna moaned out loud this time, her fingers digging harder into her swollen lips, rubbing larger circles between her spreading legs. I looked into her ravenous stare and recognized a raw need.

“You want me to eat your pussy right now, don’t you?” I asked, “You want me to suck your little clit and push my tongue in there. Should I? Should I actually suck you off right here, An? Suck your wet pussy in my mouth until you explode all over our living room?”

We were back to our old games again, and as she leaned back on the couch; her naked body splayed before me with her legs wide open.

“God damn you,” Anna moaned. Her fingers were frantically masturbating her pussy with one hand and tugging a taut nipple with the other. “You’re really turning me on.”

“I can see that,” I said, staring at her blurring hand making swirly finger paintings across her pussy. “You used to like it when I’d watch you masturbate, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.”

“An, we can’t.”

“I know,” Anna groaned, pushing her body backwards to the other end of the couch and sitting up, her hand not exactly done wading through the rushing river between her legs.

“You’re evil, talking to me like that,” she said breathlessly, “your girlfriend probably wouldn’t like you talking about eating my pussy you know.” A smile crept across her face.

“No, she wouldn’t,” The realization of this fact having zero impact on the lust coursing through my body.

“Does she suck your cock,” Anna asked.

“Not like you did,” I admitted. “Your boyfriend must be a pretty lucky guy.”

“He is,” she said with a smirk, “but he definitely doesn’t react as well as you always did to having his dick in my mouth.”

Fuck. I remember how well Anna could keep me raging for hours while she toyed with my dick.

“You always knew how to keep me harder than I ever thought was possible.”

I leaned back and pushed my erection upward, I ran a finger up and down the side of my cock, watching her eyes follow my lazy touch.

“You should really put that away,” she said without a hint of seriousness in her voice as her eyes devoured in it.

“I might be tempted to put it in my mouth. What would your girlfriend say about that? Can she take you all the way like I can? Can she choke on your cock and still keep it buried while you cum down her throat?”

Definitely not. I was practically crying with the memory and realization.

“You better stop talking about sucking my cock,” I said with exasperation as I started stroking it in front of her leering gaze. “I might ask you to do it again, just for old time’s sake.”

I rose to a knee and pointed my dripping rod in her reclined direction.

“I wouldn’t do it,” she said with her hand mashing her pussy around, “I have a boyfriend.”

“So you keep saying,” I responded, “but you haven’t stopped playing with your pussy since you stripped naked in front of me.”

“True,” Anna said, making sure I saw her slowly ease two long fingers deep into herself. I stared in amazement. “Mmmm, god I’m soaked”

I love the way she tortured me.

“I bet you could get your whole cock in here in one… long… push. Would you like that?”

“More than anything,” I admitted, wondering how we had let ourselves get to this point.

“Well keep it together,” she said, pulling her fingers out and sucking them into her mouth one at a time, “we’re roommates now. No fucking.”

“How about sucking?” I asked hopefully.

“No sucking; and definitely no touching. We’re taken!”

“Damn,” I said, sitting back down on the couch and staring at her gorgeous body again. My mind was conflicted. We could probably get ourselves off with some mutual masturbation or something, but I didn’t think either of us wanted to end the night with an embarrassing mess on the couch, having to slink off to our separate rooms. I had to think.

“Okay, how about we cuddle?”

“Nice try, no touching.” Anna said, she seemed adamant all of the sudden.

“What if I just wanted to look?”

“Look all you want,” she replied, “Why? Do you like my body or something?”

“I love your beautiful body,” I said truthfully. “Your legs are smooth, and your hips are perfect.” I started leaning in her direction on the couch, closely inspecting the pale skin of her leg, careful not to touch.

“Easy there,” she warned, “no touching. My boyfriend doesn’t like me to lay with naked men you know.”

“I bet, but I can see why naked men would want to lay with you though. Your thighs are mouthwatering.” I said as I moved my head closer between her legs, my breath warming her inner thigh. “Anna, You smell like a flower,” I said, inching even closer, “and you look like a goddess with your legs open like this.”

As I pushed in closer, I could feel the heat coming from between her legs, and the permeating scent of her undeniable arousal was spinning my mind.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Anna warned, my mouth inching closer to her enchanting pool of liquid honey, “you shouldn’t have your face so close to my ugh… my…”

“Pussy?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not yours,” she said, unconvincingly.

“Not mine to what?”

“Not yours to…”

“Lick?”

“Yes.”

“Suck?”

“You asshole.”

“Not mine to ravish until your body explodes from the soul splitting orgasm, I rip from your dripping wet cunt?”

Her hands flew up and pulled my head forcefully between her legs.

The next thing I knew my face was buried deep between the wide rubbery lips of my Anna’s wet soaking pussy. She couldn’t help herself. I knew for a fact she had to have it, and that I was the one who could give it to her the way she truly needed it. I plunged in face first with abandon.

Instantly she was gasping and writhing on my tongue, whimpering under the insistent pussy eating her body so desperately craved. I pushed a couple fingers inside and fucked her wet hole while I pulled her rigid clit into my mouth. I had forgotten how rapidly her arousal would build. I felt her orgasm coming already, so I pulled my fingers out and wrapped both arms around her thighs, locking my mouth over her twitching sex. And then…

“Anhh fuck…” She came, harder than I ever remembered.

For a good few minutes, she gasped for breath and clutched my head. She shook in convulsions and bucked her jerking pussy into my mouth. For a good few minutes, she came, unleashing every ounce of orgasmic energy she’d stored inside, squeezing the feeling right out of my head.

When it finally subsided, she lay back exhausted. I lifted my reddened face from between her strong thighs and watched her lovely tits heaving up and down.

“Tell me, does your boyfriend do that for you,” I mustered, trying to get a rise out of her again.

“Not... even... close,” she managed with a smile, struggling to drag her body up on the couch.

“Well, I guess you needed it then,” I said, rubbing my hands up between her thighs and back down. I sat back toward the opposite end of the couch to admire her splayed and panting body.

Suddenly, Anna was sitting up and quickly moving my way. I watched as her lips approached mine and hit with a force of passion I hadn’t experienced in forever. Our tongues burst from our mouths and tried to out-wrestle each other. I knew my face was covered in her essence, but that had never stopped her before. We kissed and made out passionately. I felt her hands running up and down my body, and I did the same to hers.

We were naked on our couch, consuming each other’s mouths. I felt her delicate fingers wrapping around cock, and she broke off our kiss, relishing in the tactile feel of it.

“God, I missed this,” she moaned as she started pulling the skin up and down my erection. The feeling was immediate, and I remembered how well she did even that, it was so natural. Anna knew my cock like no one did, and was reminding me of just how well as our hot tongues snaked together, again.

After a few minutes of manual ministrations, she pulled back.

“I hope your girlfriend doesn’t mind I’m sucking your cock tonight,” she lowly whispered as she kept stroking me. Her tongue reached out and licked my upper lip... my cheek... and my ear, her voice whispering through my veins.

“I’m going to suck your cock. I’m going to lick your balls. I’m going to push you so far down my throat that I’m about to cum again just thinking about it.”

I moaned as her tongue pushed into my ear and drove a sensation through my body, I never knew I missed so badly. I was going to cum myself if she kept lusting into my ear like that and milking my throbbing cock in her hand.

“Does she drag her tits all over you the way you like it,” Anna asked in the most seductive voice I ever remembered coming from her.

“Fuck no,” I swore under my breath, feeling the tender touch of her aroused buds tantalizing my bare skin. Up and down her nipples drew lazy lines of lust onto me, dragging across my bare skin. Her milky tits dragged down my chest, and before I knew it my platonic roommate’s hot breath was cascading over my cock.

“Ohh this is going too far. You have a boyfriend.”

Anna shook her head, staring at my pulsing hardness. “You’re the one who pulled it out,” she whispered, “reminding me how I used to like to kiss it.”

With that she lightly pressed her soft lips to the skin of my cock.

“How much I liked to lick it,” to which she dragged her tongue from the base of my twitching cock to the very tip, pushing shivers up my sides.

“How I much I liked to run my mouth along it, like this...”

I groaned as her lips parted and covered the underside of my cock. Anna’s mouth was so soft and tender, and when she stared sliding it up and down my length, I groaned outward into our living room. She slurped her way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping me in her mouth as she nursed on it. She worked her way down to my balls, and took one and then the other in her mouth, and started the whole thing again. She wasn’t even sucking me.

Anna sat up a little and looked me in the eye.

“Does she let you cum in her mouth?”

I slowly shook my head, to which she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Would you like to cum in mine?”

I nodded, and slowly brought my hand up to her head and gently pulled it down. She simultaneously lifted my cock upright and wetly engulfed my entire cock into her warm and delicious opening. Her lips slid down my length like a tight ring, and my cock kept sliding in. I remembered how deep her mouth went, how my cock would keep going further than I ever thought possible. In I went, and once I eased past her loosened throat muscles I bottomed out, her lower lip nudging my balls. Oh my fucking god.

It was the most pleasure I’d had in forever, and the building intensity of the night instantly caught up with me. All at once my body flipped a release button and my ejaculating muscles started pumping hard, filling my body with the most intoxicating chemicals nature ever invented. Gush after glorious gush of pent-up seed erupted from the end of my buried cock and into the sweet and bottomless mouth of a naked Anna, right on our couch.

Fuck.

My body shook and shuddered, and she kept her head still, draining every drop of cum that leak from my creamy cock like it was nothing.

After the mind-blowing rush of my orgasm, she slowly pulled off of me, a loud pop and an inhale of breath sounding off like a clap. Her breathing was ragged, but her smile was one of pride. She came back up to me and laid her soft body on top of mine and we kissed again. This was nothing new, and the fresh cum in her mouth was barely noticeable as we shared a passionate embrace.

“What did you just do?” I asked incredulously.

“I sucked your cock,” Anna replied in a hungry whisper, “I swallowed your cum. I got you so horny you shot off in my mouth in like buckets!”

I smiled wide with the most satisfaction I had felt in many months.

“That you did.” I said.

I gently held Anna’s body again as she lay across me, her soft breasts piled on my chest. The round bare cheek beyond the small of her back was a familiar landscape for my fingers to graze.

“What are we doing?” Anna asked quietly, her nose brushing against my cheek.

“Not getting caught?” I ventured, saying what was surely on our minds.

“Yes, but why?” She laid her head next to mine. “Why is it so right between us?”

Her fingers twirled my hair and I felt her breath against my neck. “I am so comfortable here, just like this, with you.”

“We’ve been over it a million times,” I began, “and we just don’t work this well in the real world. We’re polar opposites... who happen to be really awesome in bed.”

“Don’t remind me,” she softly whispered.

We lay with each other in the darkish room, naked across our couch. My mind played movies of all the great times we’d had. Weekends we’d spent locked in a room and fucking our brains out until we were sore. Days we spent apart, resulting in some of the most passionate and aggressive sex I could remember ever having.

We both considered sex a core part of who we were. Finding someone who shared this intense constant desire and who was also compatible for the long run seemed impossible. For a while we were happy to just seek each other out as a distraction from the sometimes-painful real world. Sex was a blanket, and wrapping each other in it was something we both needed, maybe on a deeply emotional level.

My thoughts were bringing back so many memories; vivid, naked, fucking each other memories and I felt my cock start to harden again. She felt the movement and pushed against it.

“You realize we’re probably going to do this, right?” I said.

“I know,” she said, almost inaudibly. “I just want to feel you against me for a while longer.”

Anna wrapped my head in her arm and started softly kissing my neck. Her lips were barely touching my skin, but the connection was immense. I sighed out a long breath of air and squeezed her tightly. The soft, wet tip of her tongue dragged along my neck and traveled slowly upwards to my jawline.

Her every contact point with my body suddenly drove a rush of passion into me, jutting my growing cock between us. She felt my surge and dragged a knee up my stomach and moved the same foot over the edge of the couch. My fingers rounded her smooth cheeks and dove between them, finding the familiar damp pool I was dying to plunge my cock into again.

I rubbed around her pussy as she pushed her thigh against my erection, saying into my neck, “I think I wanted you ever since you asked me to move in.”

I thought about this for a minute, and admitted to myself that my noble intentions were never far from the hidden truth.

“I honestly loved the idea of being able to see you every day,” I said, pushing a long finger into her moist tunnel. “I think having you around was good for my sex life. You reminded me of great sex, and I took that to bed with me.”

“Me too,” Anna said, “and I can’t help loving you like this,” she moaned and started grinding her thigh harder into my cock, her mouth sucking on my neck.

“I still love you An,” I responded, knowing it was the truth, and as painful as it was for all involved, it was the fucking truth.

“I love you too,” she said almost desperately, “I always long for what we had, no matter where we are or who we’re with.”

Her hips started tilting around, grinding on my finger inside of her. I whispered into her ear, “we’re actually going to do it again, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been ready,” she returned into my ear, “I want this. Please, do it before I change my mind. Fuck me,” Her panting was getting intense. “I mean it.” Anna lifted herself up on all fours above me, staring into my longing face. Her beautiful tits were hanging, and I could see my cock sticking up, waiting for the inevitable plunge.

And it was so natural that neither of us looked or aimed or anything. Her hips descended and I felt my cock easing right into Anna’s warm and glorious fit.

It was a mind-blowing instant of sexual interconnectedness and blissful wonder as my cock buried itself as deeply inside Anna’s hollow cunt as it’s ever been. We both exhaled immensely, and in that very instant, we were back.

Her mouth hung open as I bottomed out, and the look on her face was one of pure passion. I’m sure mine was no different as I ran my hands up her thighs and around her back, grabbing that sexy woman as tightly as I could.

We pushed against each other in a frantic connection of sex and lust. It was an idyllic rift in time as our souls became singular again. Neither of us could back away, and we started shifting our lower bodies in subtle circles of intimate connection. My cock was deep, and her pussy captured me so completely that I was content to simply exist inside of her.

Back and forth we ground into the other. I heard her gasp, so I slowly sat us up on the couch. She clung to me like a lost puppy, and her body was shaking from the pleasure.

Then I realized Anna was actually crying, right into my shoulder; tiny little sobs that had me confused and worried.

“Anna? What is it?” I gently asked, pushing back the hair from around her ear and wiping a tear from her cheek.

“You...” she sniffed, “feel so amazing. I just... forgot how intense it really was...”

“I know,” I soothed, “I feel the same way. Let’s just enjoy this as much as we can while we have it again... okay?”

That seemed to cheer her up a little as she nodded her head.

“It’s not over yet,” I breathed, reaching my cock into her and then pulling out a small amount, “far from it.”

Anna smiled and looked right into my eyes, her tear-stained lashes blinking quickly. “I do love you, you know, and I always...” with that she squeezed her inner muscles around my nestled shaft, “always, will!”

“I love you too,” I said and grabbing her butt, “and now we’re going to make this night worth every minute of regret we might face afterwards.”

With that Anna leaned back and onto the couch, pulling me with her and reaching down to grab my ass cheeks and squeeze them.

“So then fuck me already,” she said so matter-of-factly that I had no choice but to pull my cock almost completely free from her warm embrace, and then slam it back home with enough force.

“Oh god… Ahh” she yelled, louder than I ever remember her being, which was saying something.

I put my forehead against hers and locked in my stomach muscles, allowing my hips to start taking long delicious strokes in and out of her body. Every push and pull was luxurious and familiar and daring all at the same time. I knew just how she liked it. I knew what got her body and her mind really excited. She knew the same about me as well, which is why she pulled my face down and pushed her tongue in my ear.

The warm sensation had a direct line to the muscles in control of my blazing erection, and I started to really pump it into her with passion.

Her lusty voice in my wet ear sounded better than I ever remembered, “Oh, yeah, fuck, oh fuck, that’s it, mmmm, that’s it, fuck me, oh shit. Ohhh…” her voice trailed off into grunts of pleasure as she hugged me tighter.

My cock was sliding in and out of her like an oiled piston, and the liquid noises of sex were squelching out into the room. I realized I was quickly building up a new head of orgasmic steam, so I eased back into a more casual pace. Every bit of her scrumptious pussy was sliding across every inch of my solid cock as we connected through long slippery strokes of sex.

Eventually Anna loosened her grip and held me still, stopping our movements but holding my cock deep inside. Her eyes were wild. She was hungry, and right in the middle of a juicy meal.

Anna spoke, softly, “…from behind.”

I smiled as I remembered how she liked it that way. I slipped my wet cock out of her, and backed slightly away. She slid off the couch and put her knees on the floor, bending her naked figure over the cushion.

I admired her bare ass in front of me, again. It was so familiar; so right. A thousand memories came rushing back as I instinctively ran my hands over her naked butt and up her spine as I moved in close.

I bent over her body with my wet cock wedged upright in the crack of her ass cheeks and started whispering in her ear.

“This is how you really like it, isn’t it Anna?”

A slight whimper emerged, and she moved her ass against me in earnest, but I wasn’t about to slip into her just yet.

“Do you remember how far I can reach from back here?”

“You know I do,” she softly replied.

“Tell me something you think about with me around,” I teased, easing back from her ear, and rubbing her shoulders and neck, “something hot.”

“Don’t...” Anna pleaded.

“It’s okay An,” I soothed, “just tell me one thing you fantasized about. It’s only going to turn the heat up.”

A long silence appeared, and I slowly eased the underside of my cock up and down her crevice as I patiently waited for her inevitable reply.

“Fine,” she started, lifting herself up onto her elbows, “Sometimes... I imagine myself cleaning… God this is embarrassing.”

“Just tell me.”

“I-I’m cleaning, and I’m... naked,” she revealed. “And then you come home unexpectedly, maybe you’ve been drinking, and you sit down and just watch me cleaning in the nude. You’re staring at my body and telling me how good of a job I’m doing, how you appreciate how clean I keep our place.”

This was incredible, and now I was logging every word into a fantasy file I could use later as well. I reached around and started toying with one her tight nipples.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she moaned, humping her bare cheeks against me. “I keep looking over and your eyes are always on me, on my body, staring at me. Then, while I’m cleaning a counter, or bent over in some way, you come close and start touching me, softly, even though I ask you to stop. You don’t. You touch my breast, you cup my ass, you stroke my neck; your hands are all over me.”

I groaned to myself and rubbed my hands over her body to match the story, feeling every sensational inch of her bare form under my fingers.

“Oh god, you really know how to play this,” Anna said, and then she continued. “You start asking me why I’m naked, and if I was just trying to get you excited. I would insist that I just liked to clean in the nude in my own apartment, and that I should be able to if I wanted. But inside I knew it would drive you crazy, and that you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

Anna started sliding her bare ass up and down the length of my nestled cock as she continued.

“You would touch me and tell me to keep cleaning. I wouldn’t notice, but at some point, you’d pull out your cock, and I would feel it against me, hard...”

I took that moment to reenact her tale, pushing the head of my cock down between her cheeks.

“I would act shocked and offended, but you’d push into me...”

Which now I did.

“OH god! Just like... that,” she moaned as my cock ran home, “that’s so much better than I imagined!”

My cock slid into her, and I pulled on her shoulders to help get it in deep. I leaned over again and started talking into her ear as I softly began to fuck her from behind.

“Is this what you wanted? Hmm? Parading around in the nude. Did you think I wouldn’t react?”

I kept sliding my cock in and out of her love tunnel, bringing loud moans and sighs.

“Did you think I would just sit and watch your sexy body bouncing around our apartment in the nude and not want to touch it... to taste it... to have it!? How dare you tease me like that? Now you’re getting what you really wanted, aren’t you?”

I grabbed her hair playfully, “Aren’t you?”

“YES” she moaned, pushing her ass back against my thrusts and hanging her head down low as I released her hair.

“And now your roommate, your ex-boyfriend, is actually fucking you! He’s finally fucking you after all this time, and you were secretly hoping it would come to this, weren’t you?”

“Yes!” she squealed as her torso dropped and her head turned to the side.

I grabbed her wide hips and started bouncing my body off of hers in a forceful fuck to last us a lifetime... or another long time anyway.

“You really need to be fucked like this, don’t you Anna?” I asked with heat and passion in my voice.

“Mmm... mmm... mmm,” is all she could manage. I kept the aggression level high, because I knew she liked it, and I pushed her head softly into the couch.

“Am I deep enough?” I started, “can you feel it all the way, my cock, fucking you? Is it good enough? I could fuck you like this every day you know. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? A live-in fuck partner to really give your hot pussy the hard attention it desperately needs.”

Her heavy gasps of air were answering my questions on her behalf.

I decided in the moment to take it a step further. “From now on I want you to be ready for my cock in the morning. Keep this little tight pussy neat and clean for me, I’ll be checking it first thing. I want your body smooth and smelling nice. I want to know you will be clean and soft when I come home dirty and hard.”

“Oh my god…” Anna moaned in a torrent of sexual frenzy as I pounded her cunt. While I wasn’t serious with my suggestions, and I was sure she knew I was just heating us up, there was an edge of real desire to it for both of us. I released her head and smoothed her hair as I slid in and out of her slick grip.

“Start looking forward to a nice hard cock in the morning. Won’t that be nice, a pussy filling fuck to start your day?”

I continued to thrust and shake her ass cheeks. “I like your new look by the way, one big shirt with nothing underneath. How hot did it make you, knowing you were practically naked next to me in the morning?”

“It felt... mmm... naughtier than I... thought it would,” she managed as I continued my vaginal assault.

“I bet it did,” I continued, “so naughty that you needed to let me see your whole body bent over in your room with your bare ass sticking out.”

“Oh shit,” she moaned as our thighs smacked together, “I don’t know why... I did that.”

“Because you wanted this,” I said, happily fucking her from behind on the floor of our living room. “How did you feel when I called you in to watch me shower?”

“Excited,” she admitted a little too quickly.

“I know you did, and now it’s out, isn’t it? You’ve been secretly lusting for my cock, and now you’re getting it.”

I glided into her a few more times and then slowly withdrew my long slippery cock from her body. She put her head down and started to catch her breath. I sat on the floor and turned over, my head between her quivering thighs. I pulled her dripping bush right into my mouth.

She raised her body up and kneeled over me, holding the couch for support. I could see the undersides of her breasts, and couldn’t help but reach up and squeeze one as I found her stiff clit with my mouth and sucked it right in.

“Oh F-F-FUCK!” she yelled as my tongue immediately began wearing the finish off of her hot button. I sucked her clit and pinched her nipple, sending her body into a shaking fit. I looked up and into her eyes, just in time to see them roll back as she started to shudder.

I knew one or two orgasms would never be enough, and I was almost positive she wasn’t getting this kind of attention from her boyfriend. She needed it on a physical and emotional level, and I was finally giving to it her again.

Her moans became screams as she pushed her pussy into my face, sliding it around, building up another sand castle of cum for me to kick over. Her hips began pushing my head into the couch, and she ground her wet soaking pussy against my face like I was some kind of humping pole. I grabbed the clenched cheeks of her ass and held on for the ride as her body began to shudder.

Then she came... as quickly as the screaming started, it disappeared, and she quietly shook and came all over my juice slathered face.

I finally sensed the full weight of release wash over her, and a trail of her cum dripped down my chin as I held her up. A huge smile grew across her face and she whispered down at me, “You fucker. I haven’t felt one of those in a long time.”

Anna leaned down and actually licked my cheek. Then she pushed her tongue deep in my mouth and we kissed for a minute until she broke off and said, “I’ve taught you well.”

“That you have,” I agreed, and watched as she spun around, her hand going for my cock. I felt her small fingers grabbing me tight, and then she leaned forward, her mouth slurping my meat like a melting popsicle. I felt her mouth softly sliding up and down my length.

We used to love to sixty-nine, so I slid down and pulled her legs over me again, diving my face between her legs. The sounds of sucking and smacking, moaning and devouring were over the top as we frantically ate each other out. Her legs started shaking as another climax was about to rain down on me. I wanted to cum so badly, but I also wanted to fuck her again.

I stopped eating her pussy, and pushed her off.

“Damn it,” Anna whined, “I was so close.”

“What, again!?” I asked in mock surprise.

“Yes, again, and I now I might need to borrow that tongue of yours to lick my poor pussy to sleep every night.”

A ravenous hunger boiled from my brain and I pushed her back onto the floor. I climbed between her legs and licked a long line from her soaking flame and all the way up to the side of her neck. By the time I got there, my cock was already pressing through her open folds and tunneling deep inside her pussy again.

“Oh, fucking fuck,” Anna wailed as I bottomed her out, my lips on her neck driving her insane. Just as quickly though, I backed out again, retracing the same liquid line down her splayed body and started another oral assault. This time I was held in place as her legs crossed behind my head and her cunt pushed up and down my face. She was ready, and I held on tight as I worked her.

This time the ungodly screaming arose, and as she flew over the edge, her ranting was perverse, even insane.

“Ohhh, Gooaahhddd, ahh Fuck!! mmm, fuck, Eat It! yeah, Eat my pussy, You Fuck! It’s, oh, my, fucking... nhhhh,”

I was simply holding on for dear life as she went through some kind of transcendental experience. It would have been almost scary, if it hadn’t been exactly what I was going for.

Anna came so hard I almost felt sorry for her; it was intense. Her body convulsed and she could hardly gasp for air as the orgasm ripped through her soul and all over my face. As she finally settled dow, I felt the grip loosen on my head, and her hands unwrapped themselves from my hair. Her breathing was hard and a little raspy.

“That...” she breathlessly began, “was what I have been missing. How could you do that to me?”

I climbed up next to her on the floor and said, “I just remembered how you always liked it.”

The smile plastered on her face turned to a look of wonder as she shook her head, and then a sly smiled unfolded from her pretty face.

“And now I remember what you always wanted.”

I honestly had no idea what she was talking about, until the very instant she pushed me away and sprang to her feet, running naked down the hall.

A hungry smile immediately found my face, and I jumped to my feet and ran after her, my erection so hard from my dirty thoughts that it barely moved as I did.

I rounded the corner toward the light from her room, greeted by a soft glow from her reading lamp beside her unmade bed. On the floor beside the bed was the most luscious and hungering sight my mind could have imagined.

Anna was on her elbows and knees, climbing under her bed. Her bare ass was up and fully facing me, and she was saying something from underneath.

“Oh good, can you help me find my phone? I think it dropped on the floor somewhere.”

Just her pale ass was sticking out, and her pussy was practically begging me closer. I walked up slowly behind her and got to my knees, reaching out to stroke the soft skin of her naked ass.

“Can you see anyth... hey, what are you doing? Help me look!” she snapped.

I let my fingers roam her glorious backside as I lightly found her dripping hole. I started to rub it around and push my fingers over her clit.

“Hey! Stop it!! Don’t touch me like th...” her muffled voice trailed off as two of my fingers plunged into her wet orifice.

Anna groaned and then said a muffled, “Knock it off, and let me out of here, don’t even think about it!”

It was too good, and she was really playing it up for me. I pulled my fingers out and grabbed my raging cock, eying her gorgeous bottoms-up.

“Thank you, now help me out of... hey! what are you!? no!”

I watched as the head of my cock push her juicy lips aside and ease inside, her tunnel providing quite a resistance. I sank my cock all the way into Anna’s upturned ass, her wet pussy licking the entire length of it along the way.

“You fucking bastard,” she yelled from under the bed, “how could you do this to me?”

I started working my cock in and out of the disembodied ass on legs in front of me, making sure I was listening for our old safe word.

The moans from under the bed were soft but growing. Anna’s luscious rump was milking my cock as I pumped her harder. I had to wonder if she had actually fantasized about this very thing.

After the thrill of taking advantage of her compromising position wore off, I slowed my pace and tentatively pulled out of her. Anna weaseled her butt back and forth, squirming out from under the bed. As soon as her head was free, she sat up on her knees and the look on her face was one of pure lust and playfulness.

I suddenly felt her full naked body weight slamming into me, throwing me to the floor. My head landed in a pile of her dirty clothes, and I looked up to see her face appear in my view, “Don’t you ever! fuck me like that again!” she warned, pushing off of me and jumping to her feet. I watched her naked form quickly disappear out the door.

I smiled wide as I remembered our games, and loved how easily we were picking back up with them.

I jumped up and happily bounded out of the room, wondering where my sexy naked roommate had vanished to. I instantly saw her across the hall in the brightly lit bathroom, and I slowly walked in.

Anna was leaning over the sink with her face in the mirror, applying some kind of lip something as I often saw her do, except this time she was completely naked.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked my reflection in the mirror, “can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry, you left the door open and I really have to go,” I played along.

“Fine, but sit down,” she said looking back at her own pink lips, “I don’t want to hear it while I’m having some girl time.”

I walked to the commode and sat down, knowing I was unable to actually use it in my hardened state. I looked over at Anna next to me; her wonderfully perky breasts were slightly swaying with her subtle movements and her twisted nipples looked thrilled to be part of our game.

“What are you looking at?” she asked without turning her gaze to me, “do I need to wear a robe or something in my own house?”

“No, sorry,” I replied, lifting my eyes to her mouth, “I was just watching what you were doing.”

“Why, do you have a thing for lipstick or something?” she teased, “You can have it when I’m done.”

“Very funny,” I said as I stood, pressing the handle and rushing water into the clean bowl. I walked up behind her and said “I just need to wash my hands.”

“Be my guest,” she said quickly, “but I’m not moving. I was here first.” With that she widened her stance and took up the entire front of the sink.

“Fine,” I resolved and moved in behind her. The first thing to touch as I moved in close was my cock against the top of her ass.

“Hey buddy,” she warned, “watch your cock.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of room here,” I playfully whined, “don’t mind my reach.” I wrapped my arms around either side of her and pushed forward, our bodies in full naked contact as I leaned forward to reach the water.

“Well, this is awkward,” Anna said to her own reflection in the mirror, “hurry up.”

I pushed the handle on the faucet and got my hands a little wet. I leaned over for the soap and dropped a gold puddle into my palm as I pushed the top. I rubbed my hands together in front of Anna’s naked waist, enjoying the feel of her entire body against mine.

As my hands foamed up, I lightly clapped them together, launching clumps of suds into the air, some in her direction.

“Hey!” she cried, “watch it! You’re getting soap on my boobs.” She could hardly keep her grin contained as she feigned offense and stood up straight to show me the mess in the mirror.

“Oops, hold on,” I said, watching my hands in the mirror lightly touching the spots of bubbles on her breasts, leaving many more sudsy dabs in their wake. As I looked at her naked reflection, I could see large clumps of bubbles all over her chest. She just watched as I tried wiping them away, but the more I tried the soapier her bare tits were getting.

I tried to keep up the act, but soon I was soaping them up with purpose, sliding my fingers around the smooth skin, rubbing across her nipples, grabbing her slippery globes tight and squeezing them together. I was getting extremely aroused, and my cock strained against her back.

“About done?” she asked, hands on her hips now as if she was just waiting for me to finish fondling her chest.

“Almost,” I huffed into her ear. I pushed my soapy hands down her body and pulled us back. Bending my knees, I dragged the tip of my cock down the naked backside of my roommate. With almost no effort I pushed forward and submerged my entire cock into her dripping tunnel, and watched her face in the mirror as it slid all the way in.

“Ohh fuck...” she moaned as I pushed in, adding an exasperated, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just washing my hands,” I replied as I moved my hands back up to her slippery tits and held them in the mirror while I humped my bare cock in and out of her pussy.

“Oh GOD!!” she belted out as I pushed in deep, “Are you fucking me? We... mmm, we talked about this. No fucking!” She was looking at me in the mirror and grabbing the side of the sink as I continued pushing and pulling my cock in and out of her.

“Oops,” I said, “are we fucking?” My thighs smacked against hers more loudly.

I watched Anna drop her head down to enjoy our little romp for a time, and then she pushed me back with her hips, quickly stepping forward and escaping my insertion. She spun around and pushed me back against the wall next to us, getting right up in my face. She grabbed my chin and stared right into my eyes.

“Well just watch yourself mister,” she said with a commanding tone, grabbing hold of my wet dick, “don’t let this big cock come between us.” With that she started stroking me hard, her fingers slipping easily up and down my lubricated shaft, pumping me faster than I was expecting... and making her point.

I looked into her eyes and enjoyed her hand masturbating my cock between our bellies. Her soapy breasts were barely touching my chest, and her nipples kissed my flesh. I was in blissful heaven, and was seriously about to erupt when she stepped back, releasing my cock and grabbing the towel hanging on a hook next to me.

She quickly wiped the soap from her chest and handed me the towel, saying simply, “The lipstick’s all yours,” and walked out into the hall, bare-assed and smiling. I quickly turned to rinse the soap from my hands and wiped them with the towel, hanging it back on the hook.

I turned off the bathroom light and the entire place suddenly dropped into darkness. There was no light from the direction of her room, or from the living room. Figuring she must have turned off the TV, I felt my way through the dark and down the hall into the main room.

“The power’s out,” I heard Anna say from near the front window. I looked in that direction and could just make out her silhouette against the dim lights shining in from outside. I slowly approached. Being naked in my own dark apartment was nothing strange, but knowing Anna was in there with me, just as undressed, waiting for me to fuck her again, was the most thrilling sense of erotic anticipation I could remember.

“I can’t find a candle or flashlight,” she continued, “so I’m just standing by the window until it comes back on.”

I walked up quietly behind her and saw that she was looking out the window. I put a hand on her shoulder and ran my fingers down her bare back and over her ass.

“You’re naked,” I said softly, stroking her flesh with a tender touch.

“I know. I was about to jump in the shower when it went dark. Don’t.” She pushed my hand away, and brushed against my erection in the process. She stopped.

“Are you...?” she turned toward me and ran her hand up my body, “Oh my god. So we’re...”

“Both naked here in the dark,” I finished, “We’re in for a big surprise if the lights come back on.”

She backed away from me in tentative hesitation and paused for a moment before saying, “Why, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“I know, but it’s different now,” I said, “we’re not supposed to see each other... you know, like this.”

“Well... I can’t see anything,” she breathed in a husky whisper, her body mere inches from mine, “can you?”

“Definitely not,” my voice shook a little. We stood face to face, drinking in the thick anticipation and allure of the moment.

We inched closer, and I felt the softest touch folding slowly around my excited manhood. I exhaled heavily.

“What’s wrong,” her voice asked tenderly.

“Something’s touching me,” I said. Loving this a little too much.

“Really? What does it feel like?”

“Like a soft hand, on my... ohhh yeah,” I whispered, feeling the grip tightening and moving up and down.

“That’s so strange,” she said with a smile in her voice, “do you think we have ghosts?”

“If we do, they really... hhhhh, like me,” I said, as another touch moved in to softly cradle my balls. I closed my eyes, not that it made much difference in the dark, and suddenly a warm wetness wrapped around the head of my cock, moving quickly downward along it like a wet mouth sucking my cock. “Hoooly shit!”

The unexpected pitch-black sensation took me by surprise, and I nearly lost it. I felt her throat open and my cock slipped inside for a second, and then she pulled completely off, leaving my cock to balance wet and alone in the dark. I opened my eyes and saw Anna’s dark figure outlined in front of me again.

“Something... really likes me,” I said, unsteady on my own legs.

“Well keep it to yourself,” she said, “your moaning is making me uncomfortable.”

I stepped to the side and softly put my hand out, feeling for some bare skin and finding it. Knowing her body well I traced my way down her side and around the front of her thigh, feeling it open for me.

My fingers brushed past her small pubic hair and I didn’t need any light to know how turned on she was. My fingers pushed across her excited clit, and I felt her body reacting to my touch.

“You okay?” I asked with a grin.

“I-I see what you mean,” she breathed heavily; “I’m feeling a little... felt.”

I reached around in the dark and grabbed a handful of her bare tit flesh, squeezing it gently in my fingers.

“Just let it happen,” I whispered in her ear, “we don’t want to upset any spirits.” I worked a couple fingers in between her legs and started slipping them into her.

“Oh…” she moaned, leaning on the window sill, “something’s... pushing into me!”

“Seriously?” I asked as I plunged between her lips, “What does it feel like?”

“Hhhh... ohhh… a hand,” she moaned, “fingers, reaching!”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s...” she paused, “strangely thrilling.”

I felt her hips grinding around on my hand, pulling me deeper.

“It sounds really good,” I admitted hearing her heavy breathing and sultry moans, “I’m getting pretty turned on here. You sure you’re, okay?”

“Hey~”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That something in here is going to actually fuck me, and I won’t be able to stop it,” she breathed as I twisted my fingers around inside her burning bush.

“What should we do?” I asked, keeping the game alive.

“I hate to... hhhh, ask,” she breathed.

“You want me to put it in?” I offered, now brushing my cock along her bare back.

“Would you? Just to be safe?”

I slid my fingers out of her wet pool, and bending my legs I let my cock find her juicy hole. I eased it all the way in, and she groaned as I entered and stood breathless against the window... impaled.

“Like this?” I asked, holding my cock still inside of her. “Do you think anything else could fit in here?”

“Definitely... not,” she said softly, tilting her hips and edging my cock around inside her. I ran my hands up her naked sides and weighed her bare breasts in my palms. The feeling of her soft thighs against mine as I cupped her bosom caused me to involuntarily push in a little deeper.

“…no fucking,” she whispered, obviously using every ounce of her fiber to keep from encouraging me.

“I’m not sure I can help it,” I pleaded, “you feel so amazing.”

“But I have a boyfriend,” Anna said, pushing her hips back to keep my cock fully seated.

“My body doesn’t know that,” I said, pinching her bare nipples and pushing in so deep I could feel myself bottom out. I was awash in the soft feelings of her insides thoroughly soaking my dick, and I could tell our little game was about to break.

“I’m just going to, adjust myself,” I whispered, slowly easing my length out about an inch, and then pushing it back in, “like... this.”

“Oh god,” she breathed, “you can’t do that...”

“Why not?”

“It feels like sex.”

“It’s not sex,” I assured her, pulling slowly out until just the head of my cock hovered inside the entrance to her tunnel “This is sex.”

With that I pushed my hips forward and thrust a series of deep plunges into her, sliding easily in and out. Slap, slap, slap, slap...

“Oh oh st t t top!” she managed as her thighs loudly smacked against mine. I pushed in all the way in and held it there, hugging her body tightly below me and finding her ear in the dark.

“Feel the difference?” I whispered.

“You asshole,” she whimpered, “you have to stop.”

“Didn’t you like that?” I asked.

“I...” she started and then stopped.

I finished her words, “You loved it.”

“Fuck you.”

“My pleasure,” I said as I proceeded to intentionally slide my cock in and out of Anna’s pussy in the dark like I owed it a favor. My long and sensual strokes were slow but rhythmic. I knew our game had ended as I heard her groan out a familiar sound, one of pure ecstasy, and she began to match my deep plunges thrust for thrust with her hips. It was fantastic. This was no simple fuck; this was hot, deep, lubricated intercourse between two experienced sexual beings.

After a few sublime minutes of pitch-black communion with Anna, I eased my twitching cock out of her for the... fourth?... time that night. I turned her around and felt for her face, sucking the inside of her soft mouth into mine. Our bodies came together as we smashed my sloppy cock between us like a sandwich. The heat in the room was unbearable as we both were practically out of our minds with lust.

“My room...” is all I said after painfully pulling us apart.

“Now.” she agreed, pulling me quickly in that direction. I followed her lead in the dark, and we bumped our naked bodies along the wall in a hurry to get there. Once inside, I found the plug to a small string of lights, which washed the room in enough dim light to see the naked girl sprawling across my bed like a seductress.

We squinted at the light, but her eyes were on my body, crawling up and down, a look of hot lust burned onto her face.

“Come here,” she said curling a finger at me.

I crawled over her body, staring into her eyes with the awareness we were lovers once again. For a brief window in time, we let ourselves go to enjoy the familiar fruits of our bodies and minds.

Our lips met again and this time it was gentle, inviting, almost intoxicating as the soft wetness of our mouths settled into a playful erotic dance. Her legs were wide and drew me in with a tractor beam of passion and warmth, of excitement and playfulness; of lust... and love.

I stopped kissing her for a moment and looked deeply into her eyes, she read my thoughts immediately.

“I know that look,” Anna said, running her fingers through my hair. “We just can’t.”

I didn’t answer because I knew she was right. I knew the logic involved. I knew the pain we’d repeatedly felt. I knew the way our personalities worked against us at every turn when we were together.

I - Didn’t - Fucking - Care.

“I know...” I conceded as always, saying the words but feeling the twinge of remorse behind them.

“We’re so good at this,” she said, reaching between her legs and guiding my throbbing ache into her warm intensive care. She hugged me tightly to her chest as I sank it in once again, breathing heavy air into my ear. “Ohhh, Yes, that’s it, you feel so good... mmm.”

I felt her nipples pushing into me as my hips worked the action between us. I wanted to hold back and make it all last forever, but her body was too sensual, too lustful... too perfect.

I started moving faster, making her squeal with delight at my increased vigor. The bed started shifting beneath us as the sounds and smells of sex were broadcast throughout the cozy room.

I was up on my hands again, watching her body take me, her soft tits wobbling on her chest. Her mouth was open and her eyes bore into mine, urging me on. Our frantic sex was gaining steam as her legs hugged me tightly and tried to help me fuck her, like really fuck her with everything I had.

I started to get wild, and words just poured out of my mouth, like we should have known they would.

“Do you like my cock in there, An?” I was in a mental trance and everything felt familiar again, like knowing how much of a turn on her name was. “Do you like a good fuck?” Her head nodded and her eyes were eating mine alive. “Does it make your pussy wet to feel my cock fucking you so hard?”

“Yes,” she softly moaned, “keep fucking me... oh god daddy, fuck me!”

And there it was.

I had all but forgotten, but it came out of her just like that, mere moments before a shocked look spread across her face. Adorable. I slowed for just a second and grinned wickedly into her eyes as they darted with fear.

“You like daddy’s cock, don’t you baby?” I growled at her, just the way she liked it. “You’re so good for your daddy, a good girl with a wet pussy, aren’t you?”

The conflict on her face was apparent, but short lived. Quickly she reached up and pulled me down to her, our bodies frantically fucking again. Her tongue went in my ear and out the end of my juiced-up cock as it pumped into her.

“Oh god daddy, give it to me,” she moaned into my soul, “make love to me, please. I need you. Can you feel how wet you’re making me?”

I was struggling to hang on, it was all too intense. I felt my passion reaching a peak with our most personal and private game playing out after all this time. I had no choice but to settle the hell down...

“Hold on baby,” I said as I slowly pulled out of her against the strain of her legs trying to keep me in place.

“No,” she said, “don’t go!” Still, I pulled away and rolled over, lying next to her. I was breathing heavy and sweating.

“I’m exhausted,” I sigh, “let me get some rest?” I closed my eyes with my arm over my face, knowing my aim to get her on top was immediately received.

Anna climbed over and straddled me, quickly descending her hot pussy over my soaking cock and picking up right where we left off.

“Mmmm, what are you doing hon?” I moaned as she swallowed my cock with her body in the most desperate way possible.

“I need you daddy,” she said as her butt started to bounce her soft pussy up and down the length of me as she lay on top of me, “I have to feel you... inside me... fucking me... daddy,” she whispered in my ear.

With a surge of passion, she sat herself upright, my cock fully seated inside of her. Watching her sitting above me I admired her perky breasts as she stared into my eyes. I reached up and took a handful of each. She looked down at me with a mischievous smirk, and then something else settled onto her face. . .

“Daddy...” she started to say, slowly grinding her pelvis into my pubic bone and swirling my cock around inside of her. No more words came however as she placed her palms flat on my chest and pushed against me, shifting her hips and stirring her insides with my deeply reaching cock. Her rocking became pushing, and her pushing became sliding. Soon she was lying against me again, quickly and frantically fucking my brains out.

Our bodies slapped together as our moans devolved into grunts. I felt Anna’s hot breath in my ear again, and her words this time were some of the most wonderful utterances my soul could ever have dreamed.

“Daddy, oh... this is so good, and... god, you’re so incredible. I love your big cock inside of me, Mmmm. You’re everything to me, and anything you’re not... mmmm... tough shit. Ohhhhhh gggod, keep fucking me daddy… yessss. This has to be, the last time... uh huh, keep going... the last time we, fuck around on other people, okay?”

I barely started to reply.

“Shhhh,” she continued as her pussy slid up and down my deep erection, “…mmmm, let me finish... This is the last time, because from now on, there are no other people Daddy, ahh... that’s right... because, I want to be yours again. I want us to be together, forever this time... ohhhh... you like that, Daddy? It’s okay. Tell me.”

“I fucking love it,” my voice burst out as my cock thrust into her bouncing body. I had hold of her hips and was pulling her back down to me each time she pulled away.

Finally, I slowed our bodies down to an easy pace and looked hard into her eyes. “And I love you, Anna. I really do” I lifted my hands and held her face in them as our bodies slowed. “What the hell have we been doing all this time?” I had to know.

She didn’t answer at first, and just looked into my eyes as we stopped, our souls keeping the sultry flames connecting us alive. Then she told me, and it made perfect sense.

“Making sure.”

Oh, I was sure. I was absolutely sure there wasn’t another person on the planet that could come close to the connection I felt with this human being. I wanted nothing more in that very moment than to follow her to the ends of the world and throw everything I called my own into oblivion.

I was hers. Anna’s... and I had never been happier.

“And you’re sure?” I asked tentatively.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said, her words falling out between panting breaths. “I love you more right now than I thought was possible.”

I pushed deeply into her body, this time to form a concrete joining of our souls. She pushed back and I instantly felt every other time we had merged together wash over me as if they had all just happened in an instant. We locked together in a quiet, emotional embrace.

Anna’s soft body was an extension of mine in that moment in time. We started to hug tightly in our coupled position, twitching slightly from the emotional and physical reception.

Our bodies started to ignite again, but without any physical movement. It was a strange feeling, like we were fucking, frozen in time.

She looked at me and I felt her pussy start to tremble around my cock. Then it twitched again, and I felt a rumble in my body. Her arms began to shake, and her mouth opened in an expression of deep pleasure. It was so beautiful and enchanting that I felt a wave of passion extend my cock into her further.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, as her legs began to join the chorus. I held on to her tightly and just throbbed inside of her, feeling every pulse of pleasure that was building around it. Her chest began to twitch, and she sucked in a deep breath, clinging to my body and digging her nails into my skin.

“OOOOOOHHHH...” she shuddered with a shaky moan, and I looked up at her face, which she had pushed forward in a grimace of intense concentration, and I knew Anna was about to burst.

The wall of energy that slammed into her body caused every muscle of hers to clench, gripping me tightly beneath her and jerking us both with her sudden heaves. I held on tightly and just let her come around me with everything she had, feeling her pussy convulsing and twitching on my cock, drinking in the waves of pressure and release washing over us.

Without warning the feel of her throbbing contractions and her intense climax caused my cock to swell and vibrate. The feel of her liquid release washing over me and the erotic spectacle of her orgasm was enough to start my own.

“Breed me, daddy…” Anna said.

That was enough to set me off, a wave of thrilling exhilaration rushed through my nervous system, throbbing out a wave of cum deep into her body as my muscles grabbed her tightly. My creamy jets lurched into Anna’s delicious cunt as her inner walls milked my erupting cock of each electric burst. They kept pumping out of me, pulse after pulse, for what seemed like an eternity...

It was immediately the most intense sexual feeling I had ever experienced, and there hadn’t been any movement; only our tight naked connection and our newly ignited passion and love for the other. We lay there panting, both of us with looks of disbelief and sheer wonder on our faces.

“What the hell... was that?” she asked finally, her body sweating and still snugly wrapped around my own.

“The best sex we’ve ever had?” I offered slowly, feeling my cock finally letting go of the firm pressure it had been holding all night.

Her heavy breathing was coming down and she lifted her body up onto her arms to look into my eyes, a satisfied grin and something else across her face.

“By far the best sex we’ve ever had,” she agreed and paused, her gaze drinking in my soul for a moment.

“I think we should give it another go.”

“Really?” I exasperated, unable to actually move my body another inch, “I think I might need the night to recover.”

Anna smiled and rolled her eyes, “Not that dummy... Us.”

There was no question, no hesitation in my mind. Our subconscious minds kept bringing us together over the years for what we finally came to realize. We couldn’t stay apart, for worse or for better...

[mintmatcha]

I so understand this would be so far off, but I’m imagining reader’s son being 13 and a couple months old, he’s cordial with Shinsou, for his mum, but he’s trying to come to terms with why his mum didn’t stay with his dad. Until monoma doesn’t show up for something and maybe one of his friends is like ‘hey, I’m really sorry your dad is always doing that. It must really suck’

‘My dad always shows up usually, just later. He’s busy.’ And the look of pity from his friend and it just CLICKS

Has to call his mum to pick him up and shinsou picks him up because maybe it’s late at night, and shinsou has always respected that he shouldn’t talk shit about monoma in front of your son, but when your son starts asking about things, about the lies and twisted truths monoma has told, shinsou won’t lie to him. Just gives him yes and no answers.

Monoma doesn’t understand why all of a sudden his son isn’t responding to his messages or answering his phone calls, and there’s no way he’s calling you to reveal to you that he’s no longer the golden father figure in your son’s eyes

I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA

I think, leading up to that, the more your son is angry at monoma, the more he's disrespectful of you. it's displaced, but he just can't bring himself to think that his dad is the problem.

the only time shinso has ever REALLY yelled at him was after school one day. monoma was supposed to come for his weekend, but it's shinso standing at the curb waiting for him.

"Whoa, that's your dad?" a friend asks. oh, he had been bragging all day that his pro hero dad was coming to take him on vacation and now he's face to face with the realization that he's not going anywhere.

"He is not my dad." There's so much angst and anger building up in his gut. you must have done something to piss his real dad off- it's always your fault when he doesn't arrive- "he's just some guy my mom whores around with."

Shinso's jaw flexes so tightly that he can see it from all the way from across the street. He uses his whole name, biting out every syllable with a barely restrained anger. your son trudges across the street with his pack dragging on the ground.

"Say that again." It's been years since he's thought Shinso was scary, but the cold grind of his voice makes him freeze. "Say it right here, to my face."

They both know he can't. He doesn't have the guts. Shinso bends over just a bit, bringing himself face to face.

"You do not have to respect me. You don't even have to like me." Shinso's voice breaks with the sheer volume he's using. your son looks back at his friends, who look equally horrified. "But you will not talk about your mother that way."

The man jabs a finger towards the school bag.

"And pick up your fucking bag." He's never cursed at your son before. "Your mom worked extra shifts to pay for that."

He had begged for this bag, the full leather one. it was expensive. too expensive to ask you for. It came as a holiday present with no name, so he had always assumed his dad was the one who bought it. Monoma is the one with money-- you're just a waitress. The scuffed bottom suddenly feels embarrassing.

Shinso hasn't stopped his ranting. "All she has ever done is loved you. Your whole life! All she's ever done! And I will not let you treat her the way your father treats her, got it?"

Your son doesn't reply.

"I said- did you fucking get that?"

His real dad never yells. No, he just laughs when he says things like that. Your son sniffs and slugs his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."

"And if you ever say that to your mother's face-" he can't finish the sentence. "Get walking."

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye

— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.

notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent

You don't remember how long it's been.

But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.

He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.

It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.

You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.

You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.

You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.

But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.

And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.

"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."

What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?

You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?

And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.

You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.

It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.

That is, until he actually did come back.

No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.

And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.

He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.

"What the fuck?!"

You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"

His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"

"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."

"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.

You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.

He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"

"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.

"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.

Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.

"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."

He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.

The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-

He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.

"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"

By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.

You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.

He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."

And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.

Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.

He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.

You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."

That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."

He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.

"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.

He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.

"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."

As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.

He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.

You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Please don't hold it against me."

"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."

"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

[lee-laurent]

Just Friendly Things -- Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn brings his "friend" Hayden to meet the guys, only issue... they all wanna get on his nerves by flirting with her

content: arguing, teasing, flirting, some posssibly sexist jokes, suggestive jokes, making out, implied smut but no explicit smut

wc: 6.6k

notes: this took way longer than i expected because i hated the first few versions of hayden that i wrote. hope you guys enjoy! and pls pls let me know which fic from my most recent list you wanna see next!!!

Quinn had been convinced he had a type, until he met Hayden. The moment he laid eyes on the freckle-covered brunette behind the bar, all his ideas of the perfect woman went out the window.

He hadn't planned on approaching her that night--he rarely did that sort of thing--but something about her made it impossible to stay in his seat. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled as she teased the patrons, or the quick, confident way she moved, shaking cocktails and sliding beers across the counter without missing a beat. Or maybe it was her laugh, low and raspy, floating above the noise of the crowd and hitting him like a bucket of cold water.

When he reached the bar, he still hadn't figured out what to say. But she noticed him right away, tipping her head at him with an arched brow. "You gonna order something, or just stand there looking pretty?" she asked, smirking.

It had taken Quinn half a second too long to respond, his brain short-circuiting at the sound of her voice. Her smirk only deepened as she watched him scramble for words.

"Uh, yeah--just a beer. Whatever's on tap," he finally managed, shoving a hand through his hair.

"Sure thing, champ." She poured the drink in one smooth motion and set it in front of him, wiping her hands on a bar towel. "That'll be six bucks."

Quinn handed her a twenty. "Keep the change."

Her green eyes flicked up to meet his. "Big spender, huh?"

He shrugged, suddenly unsure of himself. "Just figured you deserve it. You're working hard."

That made her pause. The teasing look on her face softened for a split second, and she gave him a small smile before moving on to the next customer.

That had been six months ago. Now, Quinn had her memorized in ways he wasn't sure were healthy. He knew how her lips curved when she smiled, the exact spot on her shoulder that made her shiver when she kissed it, and the way her voice sounded when she moaned his name in the dark.

Not that they were anything serious--she'd made that clear from the start. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, Hughes," she'd said one night, perched on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but one of his hoodies. Her legs had been tucked under her, and her fingers toyed absently with the hem of the sweathshirt. "I don't have time for that right now. Gotta focus on work and school, and I don't need a distraction."

"Fair enough," he'd replied, leaning back against the headboard and trying to sound nonchalant, like her answer didn't sting just a little.

It wasn't like he could blame her. She worked crazy hours at the bar, saving every spare dollar for tuition. And yet, every few nights, she still found her way into his bed--or his car, or his couch--looking at him with those green eyes and making it very clear she wanted him.

And that was the problem, really. He knew exactly what she wanted from him, but the feelings that had started creeping up on him were a hell of a lot messier.

Like now, as they drove through the winding roads to the lake house. Hayden was sitting in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the way he kept sneaking glances at her. She'd insisted she could come as a friend--"We're just hanging out, right? Your brothers don't need to know anything."

Quinn had agreed, mostly because he didn't want to push his luck. But the idea of her spending an entire weekend around his brothers and friends--Jack, Luke, Cole, and Trevor--while pretending they didn't have history? He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep it together.

Especially not when she looked like that.

~~

Quinn tightened his grip on the steering wheel, forcing himself to look at the road instad of Hayden. She was lounging in the passenger seat like she owned the place, legs pulled up and bare feet resting on the dash--something that normally annoyed him, but didn't when it was her. Her hair was twisted up on top of her head with a claw-clip, dark sunglasses perched on her nose, and her shorts were so short they were more like denim underwear. And worse, she didn't seem to have a single clue what she was doing to him.

"Any bets on how long before Trevor starts acting like an idiot?" she asked, not looking up from her phone.

Quinn exhaled, shaking his head. "Two minutes after we pull in."

Hayden snorted. "I'm giving him 30 seconds. Kid doesn't have an off switch."

"Don't let him get to you," Quinn warned, though his jaw clenched at the thought. He already knew how this was going to go: Trevor was going to flirt, Jack and Luke were going to egg him on, and Cole was going to sit back and stir the pot like the chaos-loving menace he was. The last thing Quinn needed was his brothers and friends turning this weekend into some weird interrogation.

She finally looked at him, dropping her phone onto her lap. "Relax, Hughesy. I can handle myself."

That was the problem. He knew she could handle herself. Hayden could flirt and toss back jabs like it was nobody's business. She was cool under pressure, quick with comebacks, and completely unfazed by guys like his friends. If anything, they were going to love her. Which was great--except it also meant they were going to keep pushing, keep prodding, and Quinn was going to have to sit there and pretend it didn't bother him.

He wasn't entirely sure he could pull that off.

The house was already crazy when they arrived. Quinn barely had time to turn off the engine before the front door flew open, and Jack and Trevor came sprinting out like a couple of dogs that'd been cooped up too long.

"Quinny!" Jack hollered, dragging out the name like he was twelve. His eyes darted to Hayden before a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. "And you brought a friend!"

"Careful, Jack, you're drooling," Hayden teased, sliding out of the car like she hadn't just turned Quinn's brain to mush.

Trevor skidded to a stop next to Jack, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head as he gave Hayden an exaggerated once-over. "Who's this?" he asked, like Quinn wasn't standing right there.

"Hayden," she said, unfazed. "You must be Trevor."

His grin widened. "Guilty. Did Quinn tell you that I'm his favourite?"

Quinn groaned, dragging their bags out of the trunk. "Literally no one has ever said that ever."

Trevor ignored him, zeroing in on Hayden. "So, you a hockey fan? Or did Quinny trick you into coming up here?"

Hayden shot Quinn a quick, amused look over her shoulder before turning back to the blond. "No tricks. I just like the lake."

"I'm gonna like you."

"Trevor," Quinn said sharply, but it was too late. Hayden was already laughing, and Trevor looked delighted, like he'd just discovered a new game.

This was going to be a long weekend.

~~

The kitchen was already loud by the time Quinn woke up the next morning. Jack was rummaging through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of skim milk, while Luke stood at the stove making ovens. Trevor was leaning against the counter, already drinking despite the early hour.

Then there was Hayden, perched on a stool like she'd been part of the group for years. She was wearing a tank top and athletic shorts, her legs crossed as she sipped a mug of coffee one of the guys had made for her. She looked completely at ease, laughing softly at something Trevor had just said.

"Morning, sunshine," Jack called out when he spotted Quinn. "You sleep okay on the couch?"

Trevor smirked. "Guess you're more of a gentleman than I thought, letting Hayden have the bed."

Quinn ignored him, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Someone had to make sure you idiots didn't scare her off already."

"We're harmless," Jack said, grabbing a yogurt and joining Hayden at the counter. "Right, Hayden?"

"Sure," she smiled. "Totally harmless."

Trevor licked his lips, setting down his beer. "So, Hayden, what's your deal? You work at a bar, right? Bet you've got some wild stories."

"Plenty," she said easily. "But I'm guessing you don't wanna hear about drunk bachleorette parties or old guys claiming they already tipped me when it's the first time I've ever seen them."

"Come on," Trevor said, flashing her his most charming grin. "What about the weirdest pickup line you've ever gotten?"

"I don't know... probably the guy who told me I had eyes like a mermaid and asked if I wanted to 'swim into his arms.'"

Jack snorted. "That's terrible."

"Right?" Hayden laughed again. "I told him I'd rather drown."

Trevor laughed so hard he nearly spilled his beer. "Okay, that's solid. But what about the best pickup line? You've gotta have one."

Quinn, pouring his coffee, clenched his jaw. He knew where this was going.

Hayden glanced at him briefly. "I don't really go for pickup lines," she shrugged. "If a guy's confident, he doesn't need one."

"Oh, I'm confident," Trevor leaned a little closer.

Hayden smirked. "Good for you, bud."

Quinn's knuckles tightened around his mug as he turned and leaned against the counter. "Shouldn't you save some of that energy for the lake, Trev? Or is embarrassing yourself in the water not enough anymore?"

Trevor shot him a look, but Hayden only smiled, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Careful, Hughesy," she said lightly. "You're starting to sound jealous."

Quinn froze, scrambling for a response. "I'm not--"

"She's got a point," Jack interrupted. "You're lookin' a little tense there, Quinny."

"I'm fine!"

Hayden raised her coffee mug to hide her smile, but the damage was already done.

Quinn's nerves were frayed by the end of breakfast. Hayden had slipped easily into the background, chatting with Luke about something or other, but Trevor and Jack were relentless in their interrogation.

"Hayden, what kind of guys do you usually go for?" Trevor asked carefully as they started clearing the plates.

Quinn stiffened, glancing at Hayden out of the corner of his eye. She didnt' miss a beat.

"Hmm. I guess I like guys who can make me laugh."

"That's me!" Trevor said excitedly.

"Right," she said, deadpan. "But I also like guys who know when to quit."

Jack laughed, clapping Trevor on the back. "Ouch! Guess you're out of luck, bud!"

Quinn didn't bother to hide his smirk, but his amusement didn't last long. Trevor wasn't giving up, and Hayden seemed determined to keep sparring with him.

The group wasted no time in dragging all their gear down to the water. Paddleboards, kayaks, and inner tubes littered the dock, and Jack was already trying to wrestle Luke into the water just for the sake of it.

Quinn had just finished setting up a folding chair near the edg of the dock when he caught sight of Hayden emerging from the house.

His brain short-circuited.

She was wearing a simple blue bikini, nothing overly flashy, but it might as well have been haute couture for the way it made his chest tighten. Her hair was loose now, claw clip abandoned, and her sungless perched on her pale nose as she carried a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

She walked like she owned the place, completely oblivious to how every head on the dock turned her way.

"Jesus, Quinn," Jack grinned. "Where'd you find her?"

Quinn scowled. "Shut up, Jack."

"Hey, Hayden!" Trevor called, waving her over like they were old friends. "You ever paddleboard before?"

Hayden stopped at the edge of the dock, plating her hands on her hips. "Once or twice. Why?"

Trevor pulled a board toward himself. "Because you're about to get a free lesson from the best."

"You mean Luke?" she quipped, smirking proudly.

Trevor clutched his chest like she'd stabbed him. "That hurts. I'm actually really fucking great at this!"

"Uh-huh." Hayden tossed her towel onto a chair, kicking off her sandals. "Fine. Show me what you've got."

Quinn groaned internally as Trevor guided her toward the paddleboard. He tried to focus on adjusting one of the chairs, but his eyes kept returning to Hayden as Trevor "helped" her climb onto the board.

"Keep your knees bent," Trevor said, standing waist-deep in the water beside her. "It's all about balance."

"Got it," Hayden said, adjusting her stance.

"You're a natural," he grinned up at her. Then, with an exaggerated wave of his arm, he tipped her board slightly to the side, sending her wobbling.

Quinn tensed instinctively, stepping toward the edge of the dock, but Hayden quickly recovered, giving Trevor a look that could melt steel.

"Do that again, and you're swimming home with this thing shoved up your ass," she said flatly.

Luke burst out laughing from where he was lounging on an inner tube. "She's not wrong, Trev. You're annoying as fuck."

Trevor ignored him, hopping onto his own paddleboard. "Alright, then. Let's race."

"You're on," Hayden paddled toward the deeper water with ease.

Quinn really wanted to stay out of it, but watching Trevor and Hayden laughing and splashing each other in the middle of the lake was slowly driving him insane. He stood at the edge of the dock, hands on hips like a dad, until Jack strolled over and gave him a knowing look.

"You good, man? You've been standing there glaring at Trevor for five minutes."

"I'm not glaring," Quinn said, moving to cross his arms.

"Sure," Jack said, dragging out the word. "Hey, maybe we should all take turns teaching Hayden how to paddleboard. I mean, I've got skills."

"Don't."

Jack raised his hands in surrender, laughing as he walked away.

~~

Quinn moved from standing to sitting, his feet in the water, when Hayden paddled back toward him. Trevor had abandoned his board by this point, leaving her to float leisurely near the dock.

"Not bad, huh?" she said, smirking as she climbed off the board and into the shallow water.

"You handled yourself," Quinn said, shrugging like it didn't matter.

Hayden raised an eyebrow, stepping closer until she was standing waist-deep in the water in front of him. "You sure you're okay? You've been looking kind of... tense."

"I'm fine," he said, though his shoulders gave him away.

"Right." She reached past him to grab her towel, her arm brushing his in the process. The touch was brief, accidental, but it was enough to send a jolt through him.

"Hayden," Trevor called from the shore, "you wanna head out again? I think I can beat you this time."

Quinn didn't miss how Trevor's eyes flicked down to Hayden's legs as she pushed herself up on the dock, or the stupid grin on his face when she finally looked at him.

"Pass," she waved him off. "I've already proven I'm better than you."

Quinn couldn't help it; he smirked.

As Hayden sat down beside him to dry off, he caught her looking at him through the corner of her eye. "You're glaring again," she mumbled, covering it with a fake cough.

"I'm not."

"Sure..."

Quinn didn't say anything, looking back out over the water. Trying his hardest, and failing, to think of anythingbut how much longer this weekend was going to last.

~~

Dinner was even more chaotic... if that was possible.

The dining table was a mix of empty beer bottles, half-eaten burgers, and bowls of chips scattered across every inch of available surface. Luke and Jack had teamed up on the grill, burning half the patties while Trevor heckled them from his seat. Cole had claimed his spot across from Hayden, watching things unfold with a look on his face that Quinn was starting to resent.

And of course, Hayden--perfectly unbothered--sat at Quinn's right, sipping a beer and laughing at the guys' stupid antics. Quinn tried not to notice how her shoulder brushed his every time she shifted in her seat.

"So, Hayden," Trevor said suddenly, wiping ketchup off his fingers, "we've all been wondering--what's your deal?"

"My deal?" she bit back a smile.

"You know," he leaned foward on his elbows. "What's a girl like you doing hanging out with a guy like Quinn?"

Quinn choked on a sip of water, sputtering into his napkin. "Jesus, Trevor."

"What?" he innocently flashed a grin. "I'm just saying. You're cool, Hayden. You've got, like, a vibe. Quinn's... well. Quinn."

Hayden turned to Quinn, tilting her head dramatically as if evaluating him. "You're right. I could probably do better."

The table erupted into laughter, Jack banging his fist against the table as Trevor fell back in his chair. Quinn groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, though he couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.

"See?" Trevor said, pointing at Hayden like she'd just proven his point. "I like her. She's honest."

"Honest, huh?" Hayden smirked, lifting her beer to her lips. "Careful, Z. I don't think you can handle honest."

Trevor was undeterred. "Oh, I can handle honest. Hit me."

"Alright. Honestly? You talk a lot of shit for someone who fell off a paddleboard twice today."

"Hey! The second time didn't count!" Trevor argued, pointing a potato chip at her. "I was distracted."

"By what?"

"By you," he smirked, like he thought he was the smoothest guy ever.

Quinn's hand clenched under the table. He forced himself to take a sip of his drink, trying to mask his irritation.

"Well, don't let it happen again. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself three times today," she giggled.

Luke snorted into his drink, while Cole howled from the other side of the table.

"I don't embarrass easily."

"Could've fooled me," Hayden said, giving Quinn's thigh a squeeze under the table.

"You're good at this," Jack laughed. "You should come to dinners more often."

"Don't encourage her," Quinn rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Quinny," Jack nudged him with his elbow. "You're just mad she's better at coming up with comebacks than you are."

"Not mad."

"Uh-huh. I'll see it when I believe it, Quinnifer."

~~

Once the plates were cleared and the guys had moved outside to do god-knows-what, Quinn hang back in the kitchen, rinsing dishes just to keep his hands busy. Hayden lingered, drying plates as they were handed to her.

"You sure you're okay, Q?"

"I'm fine," he said, though his jaw was still tight.

"You've been 'fine' all day," she teased. "You sure you don't want to try a different excuse?"

He sighed, setting down the plate he was holding. "They're onto us."

"So? Let them wonder. What's the worst that could happen?"

Quinn stared at her, incredulous. "Are you serious? We're not... dating. I... don't need them knowing about... us."

"You're worried because we're casual? Quinn, I'm sure they've all had flings before."

"But, you--"

"Hayden! Quit flirting with my brother and come play pong!" Jack called from the sliding door.

"Coming!" she pressed a quick kiss to Quinn's cheek before rounding the corner and disappearing out of his sight. Maybe Hayden was going to be the death of him and not this weekend.

~~

The house was finally quiet.

Quinn lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling lit dimly from a lamp in the corner, the soft hum of fridge the only sound he could hear along with the occasional snore from upstairs (Trevor). His pillow was lumpy, the blanket was scratchy, and he'd long given up trying to get comfortable. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, but it felt like hours.

Everyone had settled for the night, laughter and shouting just a ghost of the day now. Trevor had been the last holdout, talking loudly about his plans to crush everyone at volleyball the next day until Jack shoved him up the stairs to the guest room.

Quinn waited until he was sure--absolutely sure--the house was still. Then, as quiet as possible, he swung his legs off the couch, folding the blanket and tossing it over the armrest.

The door to his bedroom creaked slightly as he opened it, and he winced, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody had heard. The hallway remained silent, and he slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

Hayden was lying on her side, her back to the door. She was scrolling through her phone, her hair splayed out across the pillow, one of his old t-shirts draped loosely over her frame.

"Took you long enough," she murmured, not bothering to turn around.

Quinn rolled his eyes, tugging his hoodie over his head and tossing it onto his desk chair. "I had to wait for them to fall asleep."

"They're not asleep," Hayden said, her voice low but teasing. "Trevor's probably lying awake right now, trying to figure out if you're sneaking up here or not."

Quinn froze, his hand on the edge of the bed. "He's not."

"Wanna bet?"

He sighed, pulling back the covers and sliding into bed beside her. "If he was, he'd already be at the door making some dumb comment."

"Fair point," she sighed, finally setting her phone on the nightstand and turning to face him. Her eyes gleamed faintly in the low light from the hallway. "Still, you're playing a dangerous game, Quinny."

Quinn propped himself up on one elbow, frowning at her. "I'm not the one who spent the entire day letting Trevor flirt with me."

She smirked. "What was I supposed to do? Tell him to stop? That'd make things way more suspicious."

"You didn't have to encourage him."

"I wasn't encouraging him," Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I was shutting him down."

Quinn scoffed. "You call that shutting him down?"

"What would you call it?"

"Flirting," he muttered, unable to keep the bite out of his tone.

Her smirk only widened. "You sound jealous."

"I'm not--"

"Relax," her tone softened. "If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now."

Quinn stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Her tone was casual, but held a quiet reassurance he hadn't been expecting.

"Besides," she added, shifting onto her back, "he's not my type."

"Yeah? What is your type?"

Hayden turned to look at him, biting her lip to hold back her smile. "You really wanna know?"

"Yeah," he said, his throat dry.

She didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Go to sleep, Huggy."

He exhaled a quiet laugh, lying back against the pillow. "Night, Hayden."

If I wanted Trevor, I'd be in his bed right now.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse... so much worse.

~~

Jack and Trevor had dragged the volleyball net out from the shed, while Luke attempted to detangle it and Cole sat nearby offering unhelpful commentary.

"Hayden, you any good at volleyball?" Trevor asked, tossing the ball lazily in the air and catching it.

Hayden shrugged, standing at the edge of the makeshift court in one of Quinn's t-shirts knotted at her waist. "I can hold my own."

"Perfect! You're on my team then," he said, his grin widening.

Quinn grimaced, adjusting the net. "We didn't even pick teams yet."

"We don't have to," Trevor said, tossing the ball at Hayden, who caught it easily. "I already called dibs."

"Dibs don't count," Jack argued, stepping into the sand. "Besides, I don't trust you not to ruin every single serve she makes."

"Guys," Hayden interrupted. "We can rotate teams."

Jack and Trevor exchanged a look then both shrugged, apparently satisfied.

"Fine," Trevor smirked. "But don't be mad when we crush you."

~~

"Out!" Luke yelled, pointing as the ball bounced into the sand.

Trevor threw his hands in the air. "That was not out!"

"Dude, it was so out," Jack said, shaking his head as he jogged to retrieve the ball.

Meanwhile, Hayden stood at the net, adjusting her ponytail and smiling. Quinn couldn't help but stare, admiring everything from the curve of her neck to how her shorts fit her thighs.

"Q, stop staring and serve the ball!" Jack called.

"I'm not staring," Quinn mumbled, lining up to serve

The next rally was fast-paced, with Jack diving to save a ball and Luke lobbing it back over the net. Hayden held her own, quick on her feet and unflinching as instructions were barked at her.

"Nice hit!" Trevor exclaimed after she spiked the ball, raising his hand for a high-five.

She slapped his palm lightly, her smile easy, but Quinn caught the way Trevor's hand lingered for just a second too long.

"Focus, Trev," he snapped, tone sharper than intended.

Trevor turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "I am focused. You okay, man?"

"I'm fine."

~~

A few points later, Hayden stumbled as she went for the ball, her foot catching in the sand. Quinn moved without thinking, reaching out to steady her before she could fall.

"You good?" he asked, his hand warm on her arm.

"Yeah," she said, brushing the sand off her leg as she looked up at him. Her eyes get his and the rest of the group seemed to fade away.

"Thanks," she added softly.

"Anytime."

"Alright, lovebirds," Cole called, ruining their moment. "Can we play now?"

Hayden laughed, stepping back to her spot. Quinn shot Cole a glare but didn't respond, his ears burning.

The final play came down to Hayden, Trevor, and Cole on one side, with Quinn, Jack, and Luke on the other.

"Just hit it over," Quinn muttered to Jack, who was already bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Trevor set the ball perfectly, sending it sailing towards Hayden. She jumped, spiking it cleanly over the net and straight into the sand on the other side.

"Game!" Trevor yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Hayden raised her hands in victory, giggling as Trevor ran over to give her a congratulatory hug. Quinn gaze looked like it could kill as Trevor lifted her slightly off the ground, spinning her once before setting her back down.

"Alright, alright," she said, patting him on the shoulder as she escaped his grasp. "Calm down, Z."

"Can't help it," Trevor said grinning as he turned to Quinn. "You guys put up a good fight, though. Better luck next time."

Quinn didn't respond, heading straight for the water with the ball tucked under his arm.

Hayden watched him go, her smile fading. She didn't follow right away, but when she did, she caught up to him at the water's edge, where he was skimming the ball across the surface.

"You okay?" she whispered, wanting to keep their conversation private.

"I'm fine."

"Still just fine? Because you seemed... tense back there."

"Not tense," he muttered, thought Hayden knew him well enough to know he was lying. She could tell from the tightness in his posture.

"You know you can quit the protective act, right? Trevor's harmless."

Quinn snorted. "Harmless isn't the word I'd use."

She knocked his shoulder with hers. "Chill, babe. You need to be more... zen."

"Zen?"

"Shut up, I'm trying. And... just for the record, you're way more fun to play with."

"Yeah?"

"Duh," she said, her smile teasing. "But don't let it get to your head."

"Noted."

~~

The fire crackled softly, sending soft ambers into the air around it. The group lounged in mismatched deck chairs around the campfire, beers and marshmallows in hand. Luke was poking at the logs with a stick, while Jack balanced on the two back legs of his chair... strongly against Hayden's wishes.

She was curled up in one of the chairs, her legs tucked up to her chest, the glow of the fire casting shadows across her face. Quinn sat across from her, trying--and failing--not to stare at how majestic she looked.

"This is nice," she mumbled, sipping her drink.

"Best part of the trip," Jack agreed.

"Well, second best," Trevor added with a grin.

"Let me guess," Hayden said dryly. "The best part is beating everyone at volleyball."

"You fucking know it!"

Quinn rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of beer.

"Alright, I've got a question for you, Hayden," Trevor giggled to himself, already tipsy.

"Here we go," Cole cackled.

"No, no, it's a good one," he insisted. "If you had to date one of us, who would it be?"

The group erupted into groans and howls of laughter, with Luke flinging a marshmallow at Trevor's head. "Dude, what's wrong with you?"

"What?" Trevor asked, popping the sweet into his mouth. "It's a valid question!"

"Is it?"

"Yes! And you have to answer. It's the rules."

"What rules?" Jack asked with a snort.

Trevor ignored him, looking back at Hayden. "Come on. Hypothetically. Who's your pick?"

Hayden looked around the circle, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh. "Hmm," she said, drawing out the word just enough to make Trevor lean forward in anticipation. "I think... I'd pick... Cole."

Cole nearly choked on his s'more. "What?"

"You're the least annoying... I think," she shrugged.

"Fucking brutal," Jack shook his head.

"Good choice," Cole lifted his beer to her in toast.

Trevor pouted. "That's not fair. I'm not that annoying."

"Very debatable," Cole said, earning a hard shove.

Trevor, however, wasn't done.

"Okay, new question. What's the most romantic thing a guy's ever done for you?"

"You're fucking killing me," Luke groaned.

"Just answer the question!"

"Probably this guy who made me tea every morning for a week after my late-night shifts. And he didn't even drink tea himself."

"That's cute," Cole nodded.

Jack frowned. "Quinn doesn't drink tea."

Hayden bit her lip, trying to hide her amusement.

Quinn's cheeks burned as every eye in the group turned to him. "What?"

"Nothing... just making an observation."

"Interesting."

"I think it's time for bed," Quinn said abruptly, standing and brushing the sand from his shorts.

Hayden lingered for a moment, finishing her drink before standing and following him.

~~

Quinn was already lying on "her" bed when Hayden slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"You okay?"

"You keep asking that."

"Let me guess you're fine?"

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p.'

Hayden shook her head, pulling off her tank top and replacing it with one of Quinn's t-shirts before climbing into bed beside him. "You didn't look fine."

"They're fucking relentless."

"It's their job. They're... feeling out my vibe."

"Trevor sucks dick," he rubbed his hands over his face.

Hayden reached out, running her hand through his hair. "You didn't like his questions?"

"No."

"You're cute when you're worked up, you know that?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself. "Go to sleep."

"Fine," she said, rolling onto her back and pulling the covers over her. "For the record, I wasn't lying about the tea."

"Goodnight Hayden," he chuckled.

"Night, Huggy."

Hayden couldn't help but wonder if this weekend was proving that maybe... they weren't meant to just be "friends."

~~

Breakfast passed as normal, Trevor making comments about "volleyball rematch strats" and Jack pestering Hayden about if she'd ever stay for another "family" holiday again. Quinn kept his head down, gritting his teeth through most of it.

By the time they made it down for another round of games in the late afternoon, Quinn was wound so tightly he could feel it in the back of his neck.

And then... Trevor started again.

"Hayden, I think you should be the ref," he said tossing the ball between his hands. "You're way too good at this. It's like totally unfair to the rest of us."

"She's not that good," Quinn said, adjusting the net.

"Oh, come on, Qball. Don't be bitter just because she carried my team yesterday."

Hayden cocked an eyebrow. "I'm standing right here, ya know?"

Trevor smirked. "Trust me, I know."

Quinn felt a rush of heat flood his chest, a sharp pang of jealousy and irritation that he couldn't ignore.

"Alright," he snapped, letting go of the net and stepping back. "Can we just play already?"

"Jeez, man. Relax," Trevor blinked, his grin fading slightly.

"Quinn," Hayden mumbled, but he was already walking toward the house, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides

~~

She found him a few minutes later, standing in the kitchen and staring out the window at the water.

"What are you doing?" he exhaled sharply.

Hayden frowned. "What'd you mean?"

"This," he gestured towards the lake. "With Trevor. With all of them. You're enjoying this way too much."

"So what if I am? It's harmless, Quinn."

"It's not harmless," his voice rose. "They're pushing, Hayden. They're asking all these questions, making comments--and you're feeding into it!"

"I'm not feeding into it," she said, her tone defensive. "I'm just... playing along."

"Well... maybe you should stop."

"What's your problem, Hughes?" she narrowed her eyes. "You're the one who agreed to keep this under wraps. I'm just doing what you asked."

"Yeah, well, it's not fucking working. They clearly know."

"So what?" she challenged, stepping closer. "What's the worst that could happen? They find out we're sleeping together? Who cares?"

"I care!" Quinn yelled, his voice echoing off the walls.

Hayden froze, her eyes as wide as saucers.

He sighed. "I care, Hayden. Because this isn't just some game for me. It never has been."

The tension in the room was thick, the weight of his words hanging between them.

"Quinn..."

"You have no idea how hard this has been," he said, his voice low and intense. "Watching them flirt with you, tease you--like you're just some... some random girl I brought along."

"Q..."

"I know we're not serious. Not official," he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I know you don't want anything serious. But you're mine, Hayden. And it's fucking killing me to sit here and pretend that you're not."

Her breath hitched, her eyes locked on his.

"Say something," his voice was rough, almost pleading.

Hayden didn't say anything. Instead, in two quick steps, she grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss.

Quinn froze for a quarter of a second before his hands found her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was hot and urgent, everything that Quinn had been bottling up for months spilling out at once.

They stumbled back toward the counter, Hayden's hands tangling in his hair as he lifted her onto the edge. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a burning path in their wake.

"Quinn," she whispered, breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look in her eyes. "Tell me this isn't just casual for you."

She stared at him, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. "It's not," she admitted. "Hasn't been for a while."

"Good," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.

~~

The lay tangled together in his bed, the room quiet except for them both trying to catch their breath, Hayden drawing patterns on Quinn's bare chest with her finger.

He felt lighter than he had in days, the knot in his chest finally loosened... maybe even gone.

"You okay?" she whispered, pressing a kiss to the skin of his pec.

"Yeah, you?"

She tilted her head up, scruncing her nose as he kissed it. "I'm good."

Finally, they could both breathe easy.

~~

Jack and Trevor were already bickering as Hayden headed downstairs in the morning. She paused in the doorway, taking a second to tug the hem of Quinn's hoodie further down her thighs. It was comically oversized on her, the sleeves swallowing her hands, but it was warm and soft, and she hadn't felt like getting dressed into her own clothes.

Her hair was a mess from both sleep and sex, and her skin was flushed in places Quinn's stubble had brushed against the night before. She wasn't even thinking about it was she padded into the kitchen, bare feet against the hardwood floor.

Trevor was the first to notice. Of course.

"Morning, Hayden," he said cheerfully, taking a bite of his eggs. Then his gaze dropped to the hoodie, and his smile widened. "Wait a second. Is that--"

Jack turned, taking in her appearance. "Oh, no way! Is that Quinn's hoodie?"

Hayden blinked, feigning innocence as she grabbed a mug from the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning to you too, Jack."

"Don't 'good morning' me," he pointed the spatula he was using at her. "What is going on here?"

Trevor's eyes flicked to her neck, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my God!"

"What?" she asked, sipping her coffee like nothing was amiss.

Trevor laughed, loud and incredulous, gesturing wildly. "You've got-- Jesus, Hayden."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Trevor."

Jack moved closer, squinting his eyes like he was solving a crime. This his eyes widened. "No fucking way!"

"What?" Luke asked. He followed Jack's gaze and nearly dropped his fork. "Oh, damn."

"What?" Cole said, peeking over Luke's shoulder. His eyes moved from Hayden to the hoodie to her neck, and then to Quinn, who had just walked in from the living room.

Quinn froze, his hair still damp from the shower and a fresh t-shirt clinging to his chest. "What's goin' on?"

Jack and Trevor turned to him in unison, both grinning like maniacs.

"Quinn," Jack started, his voice high-pitched with fake shock. "Care to explain why Hayden is wearing your hoodie and why her neck looks like she lost a fight with a fucking vampire?"

"Can we not do this right now?"

Trevor cackled, doubling over. "Oh, we're absolutely doing this right now."

"Dude," Luke shook his head. "I thought you said nothing was going on."

Cole smirked, "Guess the couch wasn't so comfortable after all."

"Not helping," Quinn shot him a glare.

"Y'all are making a big deal out of nothing," Hayden said, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth.

Trevor pointed at her, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, no. This is not 'nothing', Hayden."

"Looks like something to me," Jack wiggled his eyebrows.

"Guys," Quinn's voice was strained. "Can you please just drop it?"

"Oh, come on, Quinny!" Jack nudged him in the ribs. "This is a big moment. You've got a girlfriend now!"

"She's not my--" Quinn started, but Hayden cut him off.

"Careful, Jack," she smirked. "You sound jealous."

Trevor howled with laughter, gripping the counter for support. "She's good. She's so good."

Quinn groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Hayden said lightly, taking another sip of her coffee.

Luke, who had been mostly quiet, finally spoke up. “So, uh... are we gonna talk about this, or are you just gonna keep pretending it’s ‘nothing’?”

“It’s nothing,” Quinn muttered, glaring at his brothers.

“Yeah, sure,” Cole said, smirking. “We believe you.”

Hayden laughed softly, setting her mug down. “Alright, boys. Enough interrogation. Let the man eat breakfast in peace.”

“Fine,” Jack said, holding up his hands. “But this isn’t over.”

Quinn sighed, grabbing a plate and filling it with eggs and toast. He sat down at the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Hayden slid into the chair beside him, her smile softening as she leaned in close enough for only him to hear. “You okay, Hughes?” she asked for the millionth time that trip.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing his hand three time under the table.

Quinn didn’t look up, but the faint smile tugging at his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

Maybe the chaos was all worth it in the end. Because Quinn Hughes finally had the girl of his dreams.

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[umehaji]

for a pro hero, Shouto is impossibly hopeless with all things social media. it's not that he doesn't have the ability to understand it- he just doesn't care. all his accounts are managed by his agency, and while he has all the necessary apps installed on his phone—not by choice—they sit there gathering dust, never once opened by his own hand.

so he’s sitting in his favorite soba restaurant one weekend, his mop of red-and-white hair tucked under a baseball cap, enjoying the pleasing hum of the kitchen when Bakugou poses the question. who, as always, is taking up far too much space, one leg casually draped over a neighboring chair. Shouto dips his head in silent thanks when Midoriya returns with their orders, setting the trays down before shoving Bakugou's leg off the chair to make room for himself. the blonde lets out a grunt of irritation but chooses instead to refocus his attention on his true target.

Shouto takes a bite of noodles, chewing carefully before responding. “i have not…made my intentions known yet,” he says calmly, gaze not leaving the dish in front of him. "that would be a bit of an invasion of privacy, wouldn't it?"

"jesus, you sound like an old geezer. s’not like i’m askin’ ya to climb into her bedroom window! it’s just so you can see some pictures of her, dumbass!" Bakugou snaps, but quickly reveals his true purpose with a sly grin, "and then, so can we."

Shouto shoots him a sharp look but then lets out a sigh. it’s not a conversation he hasn’t had before with his fellow heroes. “you’re not going to let this go, are you."

Bakugou just grins sharply.

Midoriya shakes his head. “you’re too nosy for your own good, Kacchan,” he murmurs, but then, casting Shouto a sideways glance, adds, “you could try opening instagram and just typing in her name. takes two seconds. besides, there’s a good chance her account’s private anyway, so we—i mean you—might not see anything."

with another resigned sigh, Shouto finally complies and does just that, if only to get the two off his back so he can enjoy his noodles. he frowns when he can't find the app for a second, then hesitates again, taking in the unfamiliar interface. eventually locating the search bar with some direction from Midoriya, his thumbs tap on the screen as he begins typing.

"how do i know which one is her?" he says, his tone slow and measured.

Bakugou groans, tipping his head back dramatically. "well do any of the small circular pics look like her, genius?"

a heavy silence stretches between them, punctuated only by the soft clatters of utensils from other patrons. Shouto nods once, his gaze fixed on the screen. then, after another pause that feels even longer, he asks, "what does ‘follow back’ mean?"

"wait-" Midoriya rushes to say, "don't hit that just yet."

it’s too late. the two other heroes watch, mouths agape, as Shouto’s thumb, deliberate and unhurried, lifts from the screen.

Bakugou lets out a snort. "well if she doesn't know you’re sweet on her yet, she will now. she's gonna see you followed her. oh, the noble half-and-half, internet stalkin' pretty girls now."

Shouto’s brows knit together, his voice edged with defensiveness. “you told me to do this.”

“i ain’t tell ya to follow her just yet. was just meaning for you take a look. there are rules to this stuff. you’re a public figure and she’s not, idiot."

Shouto squints down at the screen as if trying to make sense of it all. “i can see pictures now. i couldn’t before.”

"that means she accepted your follow, it’s a good sign! she must be active right now." Midoriya grins broadly. "definitely doesn't hurt that she was already following you."

Bakugou leans back, looking far too pleased with himself. "oh man...you know you just told the whole world you want to bang this chick, right?"

Shouto casts Midoriya a dubious look, who grimaces and says, "you...do only follow like fifty people, pretty much all of whom are heroes. one of your fans...and you do have a lot of them...will likely notice, if they haven't already."

deciding to ignore this bit of unsettling information, Shouto looks back down, lips curving downward in a slight frown. "and these pictures...anyone can see them? "

"well if the account's public, sure." Midoriya glances at Bakugou questioningly. "but if it's private, which it must have been, no. only her followers can.”

"oh." Shouto’s expression softens. "good."

"for god's sake," Bakugou snarls, finally snatching the phone from Shouto’s hands, knocking Midoriya’s chopsticks off the table in the process. the green-haired man sighs and ducks down to retrieve them.

“the suspense is killing me. let's see what you've been prattling on about all this...oh.” Bakugou freezes. “what."

Midoriya’s head pops back up from under the table.

Bakugou lets out a long whistle, eyes glued to the screen. his thumb swipes rapidly, post after post, jaw dropping more with every pass. "you've been keepin' this to yourself? christ, half-and-half.”

Midoriya leans into Bakugou’s space to take a look. his brows lift, eyes widening as he glances between the phone and their friend. "she's the one? she's...something else, Shouto."

Shouto wrestles his phone back from Bakugou and glances down at the screen, which is paused on one of the older posts. he lingers for a moment, gaze softening as he looks at the image frozen in front of him: you, looking over your shoulder, your pretty features lit up by the golden glow of some late afternoon light. his thumb kisses the edge of your smile on the screen. "yes," he says, "i know."

there's something warm and unfamiliar in his tone that makes Midoriya beam proudly at Bakugou, who rolls his eyes.

and then—

"what does it mean if the heart symbol here is now red?"

[rustedhearts]

just friends (again) (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you’ve convinced everyone around you that you and steve are just friends. now you just have to convince yourself—but it proves difficult when steve finally admits how he feels.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ just friends (part one) ✶ the library

tags: pining, yearning, they want each other so bad they're so stupid, little angst/hurt/comfort, oh steve harrington the man that you are. didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes oops.

buy me a ko-fi! (my blurb commissions are also still open!)

“I’m having a little carpet picnic.”

Julia Roberts’ voice filled the living room with a familiar warmth. The pinks and whites of the Beverly Hills hotel room from Pretty Woman coated the couch and the surface of your face with a gentle glow. The Chinese food you ordered a few hours ago was starting to stink. Even Ted, who was curled at your feet for most of your movie marathon, could no longer stand the vegetative life and scampered away.

It had been a week since Eddie broke things off. After Steve punched him, you spent the Sunday post-knockout calling and texting, hoping to sort things out. But Eddie never picked up. Eddie never replied. You figured stopping by the shop was a bit too far—if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve by now.

So here you were, spending another weekend on the couch. Single. Broke. Lonely.

“He thought I was cheating on him,” is the excuse you have for getting dumped.

But the look on Theresa’s face when you told her is the first time it made you recoil. The first time you doubted that Eddie was 100%, entirely out of his mind.

Theresa winced into the overpriced lattes you were drinking at a curbside patio on Wednesday. “Well…I mean…”

And you gasped, mouth agape and heart hammering in your chest. What the fuck did that mean? Because you were just friends. All Steve ever was and is: your best friend. Why did everyone act like you were having a secret affair when the doors were closed on the public?

“You’ve gotta be kidding me—“

“I’m not defending the prick,” Theresa justified. “He was an asshole for talking to you like that. But I can see why he might have thought that. You and Steve are really close. Like…very close.”

“We’re friends,” you insisted.

And Theresa dropped it, holding her hands above her latte with innocent agreement. But her words haunted you the entire week. Every time Steve filled your coffee and had it ready on the counter for your commute to work (he even used your favorite travel mug). Every time he came home with a bag of peanut m&ms when he dropped by the store because it was the little treat you always asked for, but he didn’t even need to be asked anymore.

But like any other Saturday, the apartment was void of him for most of the day. He mumbled some excuse about going to the mall through your door this morning, and when he came home twenty minutes into Pretty Woman with an Abercrombie shopping bag, you knew he’d been date shopping.

“Hey,” he called to you, door clamping closed behind him. His keys jingled on their toss toward the table cluttered with half-opened mail.

Cheek squished against a throw pillow, body splayed flat on the couch, you cut him a glance sideways and adjusted the volume. “Hey.”

Steve kicked off his shoes and set his bag near the door, making your chest tighten when he immediately sauntered toward the couch. He turned to the tv with his hands on his hips.

He asked what he always asked, despite his eyes watching the very thing. “Watchya watchin’?”

“Pretty Woman.”

“Did you already watch Mystic Pizza?”

“Yep.”

Steve sighed. “Damn. Alright, well, scooch over.”

When he plucked your feet up and flopped down under them, he smelled like the sickeningly sweet butter of a soft pretzel, and the overwhelming stench of Abercrombie & Fitch. You couldn’t believe he still shopped there.

His hands were still resting on your ankles, bracing your feet against his jean-clad thighs. His touch was warm, soft, all-encompassing—and suddenly all you could think about even as Richard Gere came on screen. Steve's touch, his heat, the body those hands came attached to resting just inches away. He was wearing blue today. He looked so good in blue.

You swallowed and coughed, cheek rubbing on the pillow. Steve’s finger twitched around your calf.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you croaked.

His eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned back to Julia Roberts. "Notting Hill or My Best Friend's Wedding after this?"

Your lips parted to reply, but then his finger began tracing shapes into the patch of skin between the bottom of your pant leg and the elastic of your sock. Air choked in your throat. Your eyes bulged on the glowing television screen. The muscles in the center of your body knotted and squeezed like nausea.

In your stock-still state, it didn't even occur to you that Steve somehow knew your entire I'm-sad-and-can-only-watch-Julia-Roberts-movies marathon setlist, but it certainly crossed your mind later on. You and Steve are really close. Maybe Theresa had a point.

"Um..." Your tongue darted out to lick your suddenly-dry lips.

"You good over there?" Steve chuckled, head tipping to gauge the features and their current predicament on your face.

You buried it further into the pillow, as far as it could go without hiding completely. "Yes, Steve, I'm fine."

Steve pulled back, settling into the couch again. "Jeez, oh-kay."

He waited a moment, and you inched free from your pillow enough to bring your eye back to the television, doing your best to focus on the movie you'd seen a million times and not Steve's hand sweeping under your pant leg. He'd done that a million times, too. Touched you. Felt you.

He held your hand when you crossed the road like a child that needed guidance. He braced your back to move you which way he wanted, and to pull you close when public situational occurrences arose that made him uncomfortable. He brushed your hair once when you were victim to an ungodly illness that had you picturing death. He removed your makeup on your birthday last year when you got so drunk you puked in the doorway.

His hands were always so gentle. His touch was always so soft.

But, God, why did it feel so different right now? Why did it feel so good?

"Want a mall haul?" Steve asked, too uncomfortable in the sudden silence of the living room. He was already standing and placing your feet back on their own before you could reply.

In your periphery, he headed toward the door to retrieve the bags he neglected. "Got a couple shirts to try. Also, am I too old for that store? I swear, everyone in there was like a little Taylor Lautner wannabe from 2012—meaning they were fourteen and on steroids—"

"Steve!"

He stopped. Standing at the edge of the rug with both hands on the corded handles of his Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag to pull it open. The snicker gathering in his throat hitched into a snort, smirk drooping into wide-eyed surprise.

You never yelled. Not at him. Not at anyone that didn't deserve it, like the neighbors when they were arguing too loud again and you were trying to nap. Like the guy that tried to steal Steve's package a few months ago that you nearly tackled down the hall.

But never Steve.

You shot up on the couch, hands flying to your pounding head. "Just...please! I don't want a mall haul, I don't want to talk, I just...—I just wanna be alone."

Steve blinked, cheeks colored pink. He closed the bag slowly, paper crinkling as he went. He took it in one hand and backed up, stepping off the rug foot by foot. He glanced at Ted, who skittered in surprise at your outburst and was standing with an arched back and black pupils near the tv stand.

"Uh...yeah, okay. Sorry," he mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck.

Your shoulders slumped, deflating into the couch as Steve turned his eyes to the floor and tugged at the back of his hair. That stress tick again—the one you hated causing. He turned slowly, caution stiff in his spine. You watched his finger twist and wind into a lock of chestnut hair as he trudged into the hall. His door clamped closed a moment later.

A heavy, moaning sigh shuddered from your mouth as you flopped back on the pillow. Two arms locked over your head, pressing down on your eyes to blind them and the horror you created.

"Slippery little suckers," Julia Roberts snickered on the screen.

"It happens all the time."

✶ ✶

You ate dinner separately. It was the first time you'd ever eaten dinner separately within the same four walls. Even the night you moved in together, when you were nothing but a pair of strangers gauging how weird it might be to live with the opposite sex without something romantic or sexual in the undertones—even then, you ate a greasy cheese pizza together on the living room floor with an empty box as makeshift table.

He asked all the right get-to-know-you questions, and when he successfully made you laugh with all his snarks and quips, you knew Steve Harrington would be an alright roommate. You never figured he'd become your best friend.

Tonight, you pouted into the salad you regretted purchasing yesterday because a "healthy" lifestyle was born and had died within the span of your forty minute shopping trip. And now, you wanted nothing but another wet, shiny pizza, and Steve Harrington's dumb jokes.

He ate in his room. Shuffled out while you were finishing Notting Hill and made another bland chicken-rice-and-broccoli dinner. And then he shuffled past you, shut his door, and ate it alone. Never even giving you a chance to tease his unseasoned plate for the purpose of "gains." You thought he could remain just as toned and handsome with flavor on his food.

By the time you were showered, redressed, and gurgling with lingering hunger, you were properly sour with guilt.

And maybe the black sweatpants with the bedazzled jewels on your ass were pulled on with manipulative purpose before you shuffled to Steve's door. You lingered there a while, gnawing on the skin around your thumbnail and glancing between the wood grain of Steve's door and the plush surface of your yellow slippers. At this proximity, you could hear the low hum of his radio behind the door. He had a strange affection for the 70s and 80s station.

If only you knew that it was because Steve knew "the all time hits of the 70s and 80s" were your favorite.

The radio dimmed, and a moment later Steve's voice called through the door. "I can hear you lingering out there."

You jumped, stepping away from the door. Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth piercing the skin to nibble it away. The shuffle of feet and jingle of the doorknob came too swiftly for you to evade, and then the door swung open to reveal Steve in grey sweatpants and a tight red t-shirt. He looked good in red, too.

"Oh. Hi," you murmured, hand instantly dropping to your side.

Steve caged the doorway, biceps bulging on either side. You averted your eyes with a swallow.

He sighed. "Hi."

Steve watched you sweep a slippered foot back and forth like sloshing through water. He tipped his head and bit away a smile when he caught the edge of a jewel on your hip. His favorite sweatpants.

"Are you mad at me?"

Steve sighed again, this time a little shaken with laughter. "No, kid. I ain't mad at ya."

To prove his point, he nudged the door open with his palm and motioned toward the bedroom behind him. "Come on in."

You flopped on the edge of his bed, bounced up and down by old springs. Steve swung the door closed and joined you, easing back against his wooden headboard to reassume his rumpled position. He reached toward the nightstand and turned the knob on the radio to lower the Elton John song playing.

Steve snatched the small plastic basketball from behind the radio and tossed it in the air. "So, what's goin' on?"

You watched the ball soar into the air and come back down into his palm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just...cranky."

Steve quirked a brow, catching your eye over an orange blur when he threw the ball again. "Yeah? That all?"

The corners of your mouth pulled down. "Yeah...? What else would it be."

Steve shrugged, chin turned up toward the ceiling as he watched the basketball fly toward it. Elton John died down and switched to Def Leppard. "Hysteria" was one of Steve's favorite songs.

"You tell me. You were having a Julia Roberts marathon."

"So?" Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth ripping at the skin.

"You only watch Julia Roberts when you're sad."

"Not true."

Steve fixed his head straight again, eyes narrowing into a pointed look. The basketball sat in his right palm against his chest. You huffed, angling yourself toward the door to glare at it instead of your roommate and his smug, all knowing expression.

He waited a while, like he always did—waiting out your stubbornness and refusing to let it break him. You could talk to him, you knew that. He wanted you to know that.

"I guess..." You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed with your arms locked over your eyes. "I guess I'm just upset that Eddie still hasn't called. I've been calling and texting him, but...he doesn't wanna see me."

Steve immediately felt every blood cell in his body curdle. Like they were burning and festering, irritated under his skin. He swallowed, bringing the basketball to sit between his knees where he could pick at the design with blunt fingernails.

"And you want to see him?"

You dropped your arms, letting them plop to your sides. "I mean...yeah."

Steve couldn't help it—he scoffed.

The sound had your head turning, brows furrowed his way. His head was shaking, eyes focused distinctly downward to avoid yours. All the smugness of his expression dimmed into something distasteful and angry.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Nothing."

"You scoffed."

"I sighed."

"No, you scoffed."

"Well—"

This time, Steve did sigh. He took the basketball in his hands and chucked it toward the door, causing it to boomerang off the wood and catapult back toward the mattress again. The sharp smack had you jolting upward, and your eyes widened on Steve when he hopped from the bed and stood to his feet.

"What the hell—"

"He's not good enough for you!"

You paused on weak wrists used to push you upward. Steve stood a foot away from the bed with pink cheeks and outstretched hands. They curled back toward him to sweep through his hair and tug hard at the roots.

"Steve—"

"He sucks. Alright? All your ex boyfriends sucked, but especially Eddie. He didn't understand you, he didn't appreciate you. He made you cry, for fuck's sake, and you want him back? I just don't get it."

Your lips parted, but it felt like gulping for water on dry land. And Steve watched, helplessly, as you stammered for words in the face of his impending and inevitable confession. Inevitably painful, he knew, but he could no longer stomach the tireless routine of finding the body closest to yours in another dark bar, hoping she would comfort him enough to soothe the ache he had for you.

You, who slept across the hall and shared the sofa with your head on his shoulder. You, who looked at him like some sort of light source with those little round eyes. You, who made his heart pound and weep endlessly every second that you were near, and every moment you were away—leaving him in a constant, centrifugal loop of torture.

So—knowing it might ruin every bit of good the pair of you worked so hard to keep—Steve stepped closer to the bed and swallowed. He prepared himself to form the words he'd practiced a million times over in his head.

"I just figured that eventually...you'd get tired of all the wrong guys, and realize that...I'm here. That it was me, that you loved me. Because I love you—don't you love me?"

He paused, but it would never have been enough time for your mind to process his proclamation. He had a look of such anguish embedded in his features, all scrunched and screwed together with wet, shiny eyes.

"And I figured it was easier to sleep my way around than sit and watch you waste your time with these idiots. But they were never you. And I never bothered to get to know them, because I only wanted to know you."

Your breath hitched when Steve crowded your corner of the bed, hands clasped over his chest. You had to tip your head back to meet his eye, and you felt your arms shake in their locked position holding you up. The sight of him blurred with the onset of your own hot, salty tears.

Steve sniffed: a wet slurp proceeded by a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly and sank to his knees before you on the bed, hands coming to cradle your bent knees.

"I just can't take it any longer," he whispered, and his hazel eyes were like shiny coins gazing up at you.

His lips were wet with his own tears. His tongue swept them away. Every breath inhaled rattled in his chest, and every exhale shuddered his cheeks full. He chuckled when he rubbed his palm into his eye and turned it red, sweeping his forearm over his face to clear the tears again but they just kept coming.

"Fuck, say something, please," he huffed, lacing it with laughter despite its absence of humor.

Your throat felt like it swelled to twice the size. Sickness rolled in your stomach. But it only grew at the thought of breaking Steve's heart with your silence. Because the longer he looked at you with those almond eyes, and the longer he sniffled and massaged your knees to comfort himself—the more your heart crumbled.

"I...I don't know what to say," you croaked.

Steve inhaled again, stuttering through a sniffle. He wiped his cheek on your knee and chuckled again. "Yeah. Yeah, of course—it's okay."

"Steve—"

"It's okay," he insisted, scrambling to his feet. He backed away toward the door and you finished pulling yourself upright.

"Steve, wait—"

"Really, it's okay, honey. I'm just gonna...—we ran out of ice cream, so 'm gonna g-go—go get some. Mint chip, yeah? Okay."

He sniffled again upon his exit, slipping through a small crevice he opened the door to. The front door slammed shut moments later, and you rolled onto your stomach to unleash a scream into Steve's mattress.

"Stay tuned for more all time hits of the 70s and 80s!"

✶ ✶

Steve did not return with the mint chip until nearly midnight. It came in a plastic bag that announced his arrival even before the clamber of keys. Yet, it was the squeal of old hinges that woke you from your couch slumber, and you jolted upright as the door swung open.

Steve closed the door and stood there for a moment, spotting you in the dimness of the living room. You rubbed your eye and he shifted on his feet. Ted scampered off the couch and butted at Steve's calf.

He held up the plastic bag. "Got the mint chip. It's uh...it's all melted now, though."

You wanted to reply, to make him feel better again. His eyes were still pink and puffy, and you hated the thought of him spending hours in his car or another dark bar agonizing over what you might be thinking. Worst of all, regretting any of what he said.

Because you spent the past few hours doing plenty of thinking. You laid in his bed, curled on your side, and looked at all the pictures pinned to a cork board above his desk.

The sepia toned film strip from a wedding last fall where you took him as your date. You were smiling in every one, and to the unbeknownst you might have already appeared as a couple.

The Polaroid from his most recent birthday, where you were sitting on his shoulders and clutching onto his hair for dear life. His sister took the picture.

The black and white he printed from his phone of just you on a park bench, feeding the ducks. You never even knew he had that one.

And when you shuffled to your room, you suddenly stopped. The clack of hard-bottomed slippers caught your attention, and you looked down at the plush yellow footwear around your toes—a gift from Steve.

You stood on the other side of your bed and stared at the windowsill full of miscellaneous yellow items all gifted from Steve. The movie ticket stubs shoved in your mirror and the hundreds thrown in a box on your dresser because you'd probably seen a thousand over the years with Steve, who loved movie theater popcorn and sitting close to you in the dark.

The birthday cards he wrote extensive messages of well wishes and gratitude for your friendship in with terrible penmanship. The purse he bought you for that you said you liked in passing but would never spend that much money on, and the note still tucked inside the zipper that came pasted to the bag on Christmas morning:

Because you deserve it.

Love, Steve

And then you ended up on the couch, falling asleep watching the door and waiting for it to open.

Steve trudged to the kitchen while you were lost in thought, and you hurried to catch up as he swung the freezer open. He wrapped the plastic bag around the pint of the ice cream and stuck it on the top shelf, hand reaching to close the door—when he was pushed forward by a force crashing into him.

And then there was warmth around his stomach: two arms curling around his ribs. Two hands pressing to his stomach and pulling him in. Steve stopped, immobilized in the open freezer door.

"I'm sorry," you breathed into his shirt, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I was just so stunned. And I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, Steve, for letting this go on for so long. Of course I love you, of course you love me—God, I just never wanted to ruin everything. But you make me so happy, and I—"

Steve spun around, causing your head to lift off his back. You went to drop your arms, but he instantly brought them around his neck. Two hands, still frozen from melting ice cream, braced your cheeks.

"You mean it?"

You nodded in his hold, happy to see his hazel eyes free and clear of tears. "Yes. Yes, of course I mean it—"

"Oh, thank fucking God," Steve breathed, and then his mouth descended on you.

You curled to the tops of your toes to press into his kiss, whimpering at the warmth and softness of his lips. It felt exactly as you thought it would—anticipating their plushness every time he pressed his lips to your cheek over the years.

It lasted until the pair of you were breathless, and you heaved for air upon release. Steve brushed his thumbs over your bottom lip, smearing spit and hemming your airless grin.

He kissed you all night, and let his hands roam where they could not roam before. You fell asleep in his bed tucked under his arm, and when you woke you shared the refrozen pint of mint chip with one spoon.

And when Steve called his sister while you were showering to share the good news, all she did was laugh.

"Jesus, about fucking time."

[forzalando]

boo’d up

summary: a night out enjoying some haunted houses leads to a few surprises pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader (Y/N, use of she/her), implied pairings of alex x charles, rebecca x carlos, & carmen x george wc: 1.6k warnings: descriptions of a haunted house (including darkness, tight spaces, screaming), mentions of being afraid/panicking, cursing author's note: guys i had this idea (because this is based on a true story/real-life experience where i was Y/N in this exact scenario except it was not a hot guy/oscar piastri, it was a young woman and i scared the absolute shit out of her). so i took a lot of creative liberties here. anyway! this is completely un-edited and complete garbage but i couldn't get it out of my head and i haven't written in 12 years. i figured it was time. go crazy!

It was a cold October night; the wind whistling through half-barren trees caused a slight shiver to trickle down your body.  The sun had set on the drive to your destination – an old farm in the middle of nowhere, which your friends had pointed out multiple times was a recipe for disaster. You shamelessly pulled the upcoming birthday card to get them to agree to the weekend activity: a haunted house compound you’d read about online that had impeccable reviews – four different houses for $40 was a deal you couldn’t pass up.

A massive, dark, dilapidated house stood in front of you – your first haunted destination of the evening. Screams from inside pierced through the air and sent waves of uneasiness and excitement through you; you’d fallen prey to falsely advertised haunted houses in the past, so you hoped with all your might that these did not disappoint.

“I should’ve stayed home,” Carmen grumbled as she pouted behind you in line. “It’s freezing, dark, and I have a million things I could be working on.”

“Oh, come on, Carm,” you teased, lightly punching her arm. “You’re telling me this isn’t your ideal Saturday night?”

“It’s definitely mine,” Rebecca chirped. “I love Halloween – all the creepy crawlies, scary movies, witches, chainsaw-wielding psychopaths. And candy, can’t forget the candy.”

You laughed and looked around at your small group, your smile faltering a bit when your eyes landed on Alex. She’d wrapped herself up tightly in her sweater, and you could tell she was trying her hardest to put on a brave face, but you saw right through the façade.

“Alex, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you urged. “I promise you, it’s absolutely ok.”

She shook her head quickly, linking her arm through yours. “I’ll be fine – it’s all fake, right? And I’ll just hold onto you the whole time; I’m still betting that you’re going to be the most scared out of all of us, even if you disagree.”

“Well, we’re about to find out,” you sang, pulling Alex forward to follow Rebecca and Carmen into the menacing-looking house.

Immediately upon entering, you were plunged into complete darkness. The hallways were just wide enough to walk through sideways – if you tried to walk straight, your shoulders scraped against the walls. People were incessantly banging on the walls beside you – screaming and shouting in your ears, your face, following you as you tried to shimmy as quickly as you could through the maze.

You could feel your heart rate kicking up, and each time someone banged on the wall and screamed near you, it began to beat even faster.

In the midst of your panic, you realized Alex’s hand was no longer in yours. You reached back blindly until you were gripping her sweater-clad forearm and started pulling, but surprisingly, pulling with very little movement.

“Alex, move faster,” you pleaded, growing more and more impatient, more panicked. It felt as if she was trying to keep you from running, trying to pull you back and keep you in that godforsaken house. Either the latter or she had suddenly gained a shit ton of muscle, preventing you from pulling her along with ease. “I’m scared, okay? You win, I’m terrified. Now, please try to keep up, I can’t see a goddamned thing.”

The horrors seemed endless – it was still pitch black, and the further you went into the house, the smaller the hallways became. As soon as you started to think you’d never get out and would be stuck in that nightmare forever, you saw streaks of moonlight ahead and burst through a black curtain into the cool, night air.

Gasping for a breath, you dropped Alex’s arm and started yelling as you spun to face her.

“Alex, what the hell – oh my god, you’re not Alex.”

Stood behind you, rubbing their wrist, was an impossibly attractive guy around your age with floppy brown hair and a look of concern on his face.

“You’ve got a hell of a grip,” he mumbled, a thick Australian accent hitting your ears. “Think you might have bruised me.”

You could hear Rebecca and Carmen snickering somewhere behind you, “Yeah, Y/N, you bruised him.”

It took everything in you, but you ignored your friends and focused your attention on the handsome stranger before you.

“I am so, so sorry; I thought you were my friend, and I was panicking just a bit, trying to get out of there as fast as I could. Plus, Alex was afraid before we even got in the house and – wait where is Alex?”

You started looking around frantically, convinced that you’d left your friend stranded in that abomination of a haunted house, only to hear her giggling and chatting with someone just a few feet away.

“It looks like Charles rescued your friend,” the handsome stranger shared. “Since you were too focused on ripping my arm out of my socket.”

“I said I was sorry – ” you started to say, but as you turned back towards him, you noticed a smirk of amusement on his face.

He put his hands in the air in surrender and laughed, “Hey, I’m just messing with you; no actual harm done. I’m Oscar, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you whispered back, feeling a sudden wave of shyness come over you now that the initial shock was wearing off. “And I really am sorry, I hope I didn’t freak you out too much.”

You froze as he stepped closer to you and lowered his voice. “Can you keep a secret?”

Nodding in response, you held your breath as he leaned in even closer to whisper in your ear. “That was absolutely terrifying and I’m glad I had you guiding me through.”

Heat rose up your neck as he pulled away slowly, a soft smile on his face and kind eyes to match.

“Well, I’d use the word guiding very lightly,” you laughed. “More like yanking or heaving, well, trying to. I could barely move you, and I was pulling with all my might. You must eat some serious amounts of spinach.”

“Spinach?”

“You know, Popeye? The sailor man? I’m strong to the finish, cause I eats me spinach?”

He shook his head and your cheeks heated in embarrassment – Popeye? Really?

Before you could die of humiliation and make one of the houses actually haunted, he bumped his shoulder against yours and laughed.

“Must be an American thing – I’m new here.”

“Well, maybe I can show you around,” you offered, bumping his shoulder right back. “I’ve been told I’m a great tour guide.”

“I’d like that very much. Maybe you can start by taking me through the rest of these houses? You can hold my hand – just in case you get scared again.”

He spoke with all the confidence in the world, but his cheeks and nose were flushed a gorgeous pink that you could see even in the moonlight.

You slipped your hand in his and turned your attention back to your friends, who were watching with wide eyes.

“Leave it to Y/N to accidentally almost kidnap a complete stranger in a pitch-black haunted house, and they turn out to be her dream guy,” Rebecca teased. “Looks like Alex found someone too – what did we do wrong, Carmen?”

Before Carmen could answer, two voices shouted from behind and caught everyone’s attention – two more devastatingly handsome men running towards your group.

“Hey, sorry we’re late, Carlos got us lost,” a British voice rang out.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmen and Rebecca smile giddily and high-five each other. Before walking over to the newcomers, they winked in your direction and whispered simultaneous “thank you’s”.

You winked back and squeezed Oscar’s hand a little tighter before leading everyone towards the next house.

“I think this next one is clown-themed,” someone mused from behind, causing you to stiffen.

“Clowns?” You whispered, your steps slowing to a near stop.

Alex giggled – “See, Y/N, I told you that you’d end up being the most scared! You should’ve listened to us when we tried to change your mind about coming!”

You turned your gaze towards Oscar, his eyes already on you and that adorable pink blush still prominent on his cheeks. “You know what, I’m actually really glad we came, even if I hate the dark, hate tight spaces, hate clowns, and will probably hate whatever else comes after that.”

“I’m glad you came too,” Oscar replied, adjusting his grip to link his fingers through yours. “And don’t worry, I’ll protect you from any clowns.”

“Mate, you’re terrified of clowns,” Charles ribbed. “You literally said on the way here that if there were any clown-themed houses, you would leave.”

“Gee, thanks, Charles, you could have just kept that to yourself for the sake of my pride.”

“We can protect each other,” you offered. “Or if it’s too much, we can grab some seriously overpriced snacks and wait for everyone else to go through the rest of the houses.”

“How about we face our fear but if either of us screams at any point in the house, you let me take you on a date?”

“I mean, we’re both afraid of clowns, it’s bound to happen,” you acknowledged.

He smiled at you; a heart-stopping, full-mouthed grin, and clarified, “Exactly.”

As soon as you stepped into the haunted house, only one foot each in the door before anything or anyone had even popped out, you both let out blood-curdling shrieks.

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun @maxlarens @coff33andb00ks @katsu28 @sof1shticated @viikysmile @scuderiarossa @littlegrapejuice @alexxavicry @priopp123 @wobblymug @ctrlyomomma @ladystardust05 @reiofsuns2001 @foreveralbon @anaviieiraaa

taglist post: here!! if you’d like to be added!

[cherienymphe]

I Know What You Did Last Summer (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, MURDER, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, KNIFEPLAY, STALKING, ANGST, voyeurism, underage drinking, JJ x reader, pogue!reader

➥ Happy Halloween weekend!

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​​​|  ➥ divider by @/kimjiho1

summary: When your friends start dying one by one, you're not exactly honest when the police ask if you know of anyone who'd want to hurt them. You do...but he's dead. You know this because you buried him.

~

You stared out into the water, a rare morning in which you woke up early enough to watch the sun rise over Outer Banks. This time last year, you might’ve tried to catch a wave or two, a way for you to often escape and clear your head. However, the problems of last year were gone and there was nothing left for you to escape from.

No one left for you to escape from.

Your gaze fell to the dock beneath your feet, eyes glazing over as memories of a tumultuous relationship plagued your thoughts. The memory of bruised skin and aching limbs made you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself, the cool North Carolina breeze having nothing to do with it. You tensed for half a second at the sound of a familiar voice on the wind before realizing that you were only imagining it as you often did these days.

Some days you thought you were going crazy, but then you reminded yourself that no sane person could do what you did and walk away with no baggage whatsoever. Then again, it could be argued that no sane person could do what you did period. Thoughts of that night left a sour taste in your mouth, and for the past year, you constantly worried if you did the right thing. It didn’t matter if you did or didn’t because it wasn’t like you could take it back, but still…

Analyzing your past decisions made you feel less like a sociopath or something.

When you heard your mom calling you from the house, you pulled yourself away from the water. Your dad was just heading out for work, and he exchanged a quick hug with you on the way to his truck. You could tell that your 180 within the past year stumped them, but it was in that good way that always sparked a bunch of compliments—you’re so much happier or you’re talking more or you’re around a lot more.

The difference was noticeable to anybody who knew you…and everyone knew why.

Even if they didn’t want to say it.

“You know I leave for work in a little bit, but I put some bacon in the oven, and I just wanted you to know so you could take it out.”

You smiled at her, leaning against the counter.

“We’ll see how long it lasts once JJ gets here,” you told her.

Your tone was mocking, but you both knew you were entirely serious. After telling her that you might be staying at Kie’s tonight, you bid her goodbye, gaze focused on the oven as you checked the bacon. You knew it wouldn’t be long before half of your friends burst through that door, and so you didn’t hesitate to take it out the moment it looked like it was done.

It was when you were placing the pan on the stove top…when you heard it.

It was a light thump that came from the back of the house, and you paused with a frown. It was hardly anything—could’ve easily been a limb falling out of a tree or something—if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounded like it came from inside of the house. Your frown deepened the longer you stood there, listening some more without success. With reluctance, you wrote it off, and you only just relaxed when you felt hands on your shoulders.

“Jesus!”

You pressed your hand to your chest, frowning over your shoulder as both a familiar blond and brunette made themselves comfortable at your table. You hadn’t even heard them pull up, oblivious even to the door opening.

“No, JJ,” the voice behind you corrected with a chuckle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Hilarious,” you commented. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”

“Kind of figured when you grabbed your chest just then,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What were you looking at, anyway?”

Her question reminded you of the noise, and realizing that it was probably them you heard, you shrugged.

“Thought I heard something, but it was just you guys.”

By now, JJ had joined them, leaning back in a chair.

“You’re still coming to Rose’s little ‘fall festivity’ right? Somehow Wheezie got out of going by talking our dad into letting her go to a sleepover instead, and I don’t really wanna be alone.”

Her words quieted some near the end, a brief awkward silence as your eyes met hers, both of you ignoring the obvious.

“Of course,” you assured her. “I told my mom I’d probably be staying at Kie’s since it’s closer to your house. Knowing Rose, this thing could go on all night.”

Sarah agreed with that, interrupting John B and JJ’s conversation.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” she told him with a pout, bumping his shoulder with her own.

The face he made was answer enough, and she huffed.

“Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m sure Ward would be thrilled about that,” her boyfriend mumbled.

“You know he’s better, now. He’s not so against you ever since…”

Your best friend trailed off, and your gaze found the floor just as all of theirs traveled to you. The silence was short—not so much awkward—but definitely far from light. You all knew what Sarah was going to say, how Ward stopped caring about so many superficial things. How he was the kind of man who focused on things that actually mattered, now.

He was the kind of man who carried grief, now.

…and it changed him for both the better and the worst.

“I’m going to go and grab my purse and change of clothes. Bacon’s all yours,” you mostly said to JJ, quick to leave the room.

Once inside your room, your eyes landed on your mirror, gaze lingering on the bare space where dozens of pictures used to be. It had been a little over a year since you’d taken them down, but sometimes, when you recalled the happier times before it all went up in flames, you missed them. You missed looking at them when you did your makeup or even just lingering on them when you were on the phone.

Chest aching for so many reasons, you forced yourself to turn away.

It was as you were grabbing your purse and the extra bag with your dress for tonight did you glance up. You blinked at your window, a small frown forming between your brows. Approaching it, you reached out, slowly pulling it back down and locking it shut, desperately trying to remember if you’d even let it up the night before.

“I swear to God, Rose is about to lose her shit,” Sarah chuckled from next to you. “She bought that dress months ago for this stupid party only for her to show up wearing the same one.”

You sipped on your drink that you were definitely not supposed to be having, a light laugh of your own escaping. The little soiree was everything Sarah said it would be, and you could see why Wheezie took the opportunity to bail. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but like every year—or almost every year—Rose was having a series of parties leading up to the last night in October. You were just about to drag Sarah to the kitchen in search of those little finger sandwiches when a loud clanging noise caught everyone’s attention.

Ward stood in the center of the living room when you looked over.

The older man had a glass in his hand and was setting down a fork with the other. You couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in a year, and something in your chest ached, guilt eating at you. There was a small smile on his lips, but the rest of his expression didn’t exactly match up. Somehow, you knew that you weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.

“Um…sadly, we weren’t blessed to partake in one of Rose’s fabulous get togethers last year…”

You swallowed at the way the mood in the room seemed to sink, and you didn’t need to look over to find Sarah glancing at you.

“As you all know, my only son Rafe went missing around this time a year ago.”

Somber murmurs filled the room, and your hand tightened on your drink. Tuning Ward out, the only thing you heard was white noise, probably missing another tangent about how he wished he’d been less hard on him and had done more to heal their relationship before he had to file that missing person’s report that fateful morning.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you fought to keep a frown off of your face.

Memories of dark blond hair and intense blue eyes plagued your mind, making your stomach turn. If Ward’s memories with Rafe were less than fond, then yours were absolutely gut-wrenching. The hairs on your arm stood on end as you thought about the last time you’d seen your ex-boyfriend, and you felt your feet carrying you down the stairs just as Sarah reached for you.

The backyard was empty when you made it outside, and the fresh air did so little to calm you down.

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears at the thought of Rafe, a cold chill passing through you. With a huff, you stepped out of your heels, tears kissing your eyes as you thought about Ward in there giving some grand speech about Rafe and their relentless efforts to find him. You were pulled out of it by the sound of your name, and you wiped your face, oblivious to the fact that some tears had even spilled over.

Sarah’s sympathetic gaze met yours when you turned around.

“Are you okay…?” she whispered, and you sniffed.

“What do you think?” you lightly wondered, a humorless chuckle escaping as you shrugged. “Who knew that a felony was all it took for Rafe to finally get the love he always wanted.”

Your words were scathing, and Sarah slowly approached you, reaching for you.

“Hey…hey,” she repeated until you looked at her. “You’re safe, now. Rafe can’t ever hurt you ever again.”

While those words brought you comfort, they did nothing to diminish your anger.

“It’s not…fair,” you breathed, shaking your head. “He was nothing short of a monster to me…and they talk about him, now, like he was some angel come to earth.”

You knew it bothered Sarah too—she was there that night after all—and she sighed. The blonde pulled you into a hug, holding you tight and rubbing your back. You sometimes wondered if her feelings on the matter were as black and white as yours. Rafe was her brother, after all, and despite their less than enviable relationship, she had to have still loved him.

“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”

You said the words so quietly, as if paranoid someone would hear despite the fact that you were alone. Sarah tensed for half a second, probably because for the first time in months, you were explicitly talking about what you did that night—what all four of you did. She pulled away, gaze somber and resolved all at once.

“It’s been a year,” she said as if that were answer enough. “…turns out the police are even more useless than we all thought.”

You swallowed, and Sarah fought to calm you.

“If they haven’t found him by now then…”

She trailed off with a shrug, but you weren’t so convinced. While plenty of people got away with murder, plenty of others did not, and it didn’t matter that Rafe’s temper had escalated so badly one night until it came down to your life or his. Nobody would care that he used to threaten you and choke you and harm you so bad that you could barely walk sometimes. They wouldn’t care about any of that.

All that would matter was that he was Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son.

…and you’d killed him.

John B was the first to die.

…and maybe that was why the horrible truth didn’t even cross your mind then.

Your sleep-addled brain fought hard to make sense of the words pouring out of Cleo’s mouth, and despite how unbelieving they were, the feminine wails you could hear in the background told you they were true whether you wanted them to be or not. Sarah’s choked sobs were the last thing you heard before Cleo was forced to hang up.

You didn’t even remember throwing on clothes, only knowing that you somehow managed to leave the house looking halfway decent.

When you made it to the hospital, Sarah was nowhere to be found.

“She was…” Kie trailed off, shaking her head. “They had to give her something.”

You took in the way Kiara was shaking, and unable to keep standing, she collapsed in a chair. You wanted to ask her what happened, but you could see it on her face that she couldn’t handle that, right now. Her eyes were shiny and glazed over, and she looked like she was going to be sick. She looked like she could barely even breathe.

“What…? I don’t…”

You couldn’t get it out, feeling wholly numb as your gaze met Cleo’s. The dark-skinned girl ran her hands down her face, her own gaze tearful.

“They found him in the water, man.”

Her soft words made your heart sink, and you frowned.

“Said he got tangled up somehow… Drowned.”

At that, you did finally sit down, reaching out to hold the armrest. Somehow, any other cause of death would’ve made it feel less real, preposterous maybe. You just couldn’t see John B. dying at the hands of some asshole or choking on his food or run down like a dog in the street.

…but drowning?

John B. dying in the water—a place he loved and often frequented—made sense.

That you could believe.

“Pope and JJ are on the way,” Kie mumbled so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Nothing about any of this felt real. It was only yesterday that you were talking to John B., tossing a beer at his head after some slick remark. You couldn’t quite process that you’d never be able to do that again. Your best friend was gone. Sarah’s boyfriend was gone, and you wouldn’t see nor talk to him again. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that lack of reason was what kept you numb, kept you staring at the white floors of the hospital until two familiar figures made themselves known.

It wasn’t until your eyes lifted and met JJ’s did it really hit you.

The pain in his face from losing the friend he’d known practically since birth seeped into you too, and you were on your feet before JJ’s legs could fail him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight for both of your sakes, and your tears finally spilled over when you felt JJ’s hitting your skin.

You never really saw JJ cry much—it just wasn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was just the way he was or if he took it upon himself to be the obligatory goofy friend who was almost always in a good mood. Today, however, JJ cried harder than you’d ever seen him, the death of his best friend a thousand times worse than anything Luke could do to him.

He held you like a lifeline, even well into the night when everyone was forced to retreat to their homes, nothing more anyone could do. Even if JJ could find some comfort in his own home, you wouldn’t dare ask him to, feeling that same refusal to be alone. You had only been able to shake your head at your mom when she came to see if you wanted—needed—anything.

You didn’t miss the way her sad and heavy gaze fell to JJ in your arms, the blond boy sobbing into your chest as you held him on your bed.

Neither of you talked for what felt like days. There really wasn’t much to say, anyway. On the off chance that JJ moved, it was purely to use the bathroom or eat something that would keep him off the brink of starvation. You couldn’t really tell if you were handling it better than him or if you were just coping in an equally unhealthy way.

There was just this understanding that grief had kind of taken both of your voices.

JJ leaned on you throughout the entirety of John B.’s funeral, and when your eyes met Pope’s, you shook your head at the silent question in his dark eyes. They flitted to JJ at that, and you weren’t surprised to see them holding each other at the end of the service. John B. was like a brother to both of them, and maybe they could help each other in ways the rest of you couldn’t.

“Why was he out there so late?”

That was what Kie wondered as you all sat at The Chateau, still fighting to understand your new reality without John B. only hours after his funeral.

“We all always go swimming whenever,” you told her, and she shook her head.

“…but never that late…and if so, never alone,” she argued, looking at all of you. “They think he died around one in the morning. There was no alcohol or anything in his system. Why would John B. be out there at one in the morning?”

“What does it matter?” JJ spat, making you flinch. “Why are we sitting here trying to analyze this when John B. is dead? Huh?”

Kie looked taken aback, and you could see her mentally reminding herself that JJ was in pain.

“I’m just saying-.”

“No, I know what you’re trying to do.”

The blond was standing, now, angrily staring down at her.

“Trying to make sense of this, trying to find something or someone to blame because that’s easier to swallow than the truth,” he nastily threw at her. “John B.’s death doesn’t make sense…and sometimes that’s just life.”

He stormed off before anyone could respond, and you swallowed at the sound of his bike starting up. You took Kie’s hand at the sight of her forlorn expression, gently squeezing it and sending her a smile. JJ was angry, probably angrier than any of you, and he wasn’t keen on how Kie was trying to deal with it either. The silence after he left was thick, and you felt almost afraid to speak your mind too, because now that Kie had said it, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It didn’t make sense for John B. to be out in the water that late.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when JJ kissed you only a few days after John B.’s funeral, but you were.

You all were grieving, and besides Sarah who hadn’t left her home in days, JJ wasn’t coping well. He was so angry and confused and hurt, and truthfully, you’d just been happy he wasn’t going off on some bender or starting fights. He didn’t exactly grow up with the best example on how to cope with anything, and so when he pressed his lips to yours on your front porch, you could only think that there were worse ways to handle this.

Your breathing was uneven as he ran his hands over you, backing you up into your house. Your parents weren’t home, adulthood stopping for no one in the midst of tragedy, and you held onto JJ to keep from tripping over your own feet. You’d wondered what it’d feel like to kiss JJ sometimes, but only ever in passing, and you could count the number of times on one hand. It was bound to happen at least once or twice when you were friends for as long as you had been.

The kiss was rough but not unenjoyable, and you moaned into his mouth when your back met your couch. To your surprise, you liked the feel of JJ’s body on yours, keeping you trapped between him and the couch, and the blond sighed into the kiss when your fingers ran up his back, dipping beneath his shirt. When his lips ghosted along your jaw, your gaze landed on the ceiling, and you arched your chest up into his. His lips were pressing open mouth kisses to your throat, and when your gaze roamed—landing on the window behind him—you violently flinched.

“What’s wrong-?”

JJ cut his own words off when you sat up, lips parted as you stared at the window.

It was dark, and the longer you stared outside, the sillier you felt. Your heart was racing so fast—much too fast—and for a moment, you were scared you were having a heart attack. You felt overheated, and your skin was fighting to get back to normal instead of clammy. JJ said your name again, and you merely shook your head at him, struggling to stop your hands from trembling and your vision from swaying.

For just a moment, you could’ve sworn that someone was outside and standing right outside of that window. It was brief, quite literally a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but it wasn’t solely that that had you fighting to calm down, right now. You reached up, rubbing your chest and blinking back tears, hardly paying attention to JJ’s concern.

The way the person stood—their height, their build, their stance—it was all too familiar.

It looked eerily similar to your ex-boyfriend.

That thought had you standing, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. A few tears escaped without your consent, and you licked your lips, finally admitting to yourself why this whole John B. situation had you numb. The thought of John B. now had your chest aching, and for a brief moment, you weren’t seeing your best friend be lowered into the ground.

It was Rafe.

“Are you okay…?”

You finally acknowledged JJ, and you looked at him with a tearful gaze.

“No, I don’t think I am,” you choked out. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, I promise.”

“I shouldn’t have done that-.”

“No, JJ, it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I’m just not handling this as well as I thought I was.”

He seemed to understand that, nodding at you.

The silence wasn’t tense or anything, but it was a little awkward. After all, one moment you and JJ were clearly about to have sex, and now, you couldn’t get rid of the cold chill that came over you. You glanced at the window again, so sure that you’d seen someone there, only looking away when JJ pulled you down to sit with him.

“You know I like you,” he whispered, making your eyes widen a bit. “Well, now you know.”

You blinked at him, oddly thinking that whatever this was tonight was some combination of grief and loneliness and the result of a violent confrontation with his own mortality. JJ ran his hand through his blond locks, sighing.

“First it was the whole Pogue on Pogue thing,” he said to which you snorted, recalling the day Pope and Cleo waltzed into The Chateau holding hands. “…then it was Rafe.”

You looked down at that, tightening your arms around yourself at the mention of your ex.

“Then Rafe went missing, and it didn’t seem right even though you didn’t seem…sad about it.”

You swallowed at that, a wet and muddy night coming to mind.

“…but now my best friend is dead, and I’m scared that if I wait another minute, it’ll be too late.”

Your gaze softened at that, looking at him, and it really didn’t take you long to realize that deep down you’d liked JJ too. You first noticed the feeling after the third or fourth time Rafe had hit you, and you just remembered thinking that JJ would never. You hadn’t lingered on it, but now you were wishing you had. Maybe if you felt like you had a way out, you would’ve left Rafe sooner. The relationship might not have continued.

…and that night never would’ve happened.

With the death of John B., you understood exactly what JJ meant. John B. hadn’t been some old man pushing ninety who lived this long and fulfilling life. He was eighteen, unable to even get the chance to start. It was unexpected and heartbreaking but most of all scary, so when you took the blonde’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.

You had no idea that while taking the first step with JJ into the second relationship you’d ever have, Pope’s body was being dumped in the water.

When you all collectively made the decision the next morning to go and see Sarah, no one thought too much of it when Pope didn’t answer. Sarah was allowed her solitude to grieve, you felt she was owed that, but none of you wanted your friend to deal with this alone for too long. Considering how early it was, everyone just assumed that he was still asleep when you decided to meet up.

JJ—now in the possession of the Twinkie—made the decision to slow down at the sight of so many squad cars near the water. It was strange, and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Outer Banks was not without its fair share of crime, but you’d never had the misfortune of witnessing a coroner’s van pull up to the scene.

“What do you think that’s about?” Cleo wondered.

You spoke without thinking.

“Call Pope again.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you looked out of the window, and there was a beat of silence before they all reached for their phones at once. That twisted feeling only tightened when none of them got an answer. You didn’t voice your thoughts, partly because you didn’t want to be the one to, but you also didn’t want to make them true, somehow.

…but they were true whether you said them aloud or not.

You’d never been inside of an interrogation room—or Kildare County’s version of one, anyway. You never thought you would be, but in this moment, you were thinking of a lot of things you never thought would be. Shoupe—a man you’d grown used to seeing all your life—handed you a cup of water, and your fingertips only grazed it as it sat on the table.

With the discovery that Pope was now dead too, the numbness you’d felt was forced to crack and shatter. While Cleo had to be restrained and held back from ambushing the crime scene, you’d been unable to keep upright, collapsing right there on the side of the road. The entire gruesome debacle had attracted a crowd. After all, Outer Banks just wasn’t used to this, and several people tried to help you remain conscious—namely JJ.

You didn’t even remember breaking down, didn’t even remember being approached by the cops. You actually could barely remember a thing after witnessing a familiar body being pulled from the murky water. You knew that you cried, had to, because your eyes were tight. You knew that you screamed because your throat was raw. You knew these things because of how you felt…not because you actually remembered any of it.

Shoupe’s sigh made you blink, and instead of laying on the side of that road, you were surrounded by four walls.

“Do you know of…anyone who’d want to hurt Heyward’s son?”

His words gave you pause, and you lifted your gaze with a deep frown.

“…what?” you choked out after some time.

His gaze was soft—Pope was your friend and he’d watched you both grow up as thick as thieves—but also inquiring. You watched him briefly lick his lips, sighing to himself as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He seemed to be conflicted, having some kind of internal battle before reaching out to you across the table.

“Pope was dead before he was in the water.”

You merely blinked at him, not quite processing his words.

“Someone…someone cut his throat.”

At that, your vision blurred, and you could see on Shoupe’s face that he was predicting what was about to happen before you even tried to stand. The older man reached for you again, attempting to keep you from falling, but your feet tripped over one another as your legs lost their strength. When your knees hit the hard floor, your brain didn’t even register the pain.

Burying two friends within two weeks of each other was something you would’ve never predicted. Not until you were in your seventies, at least. It felt like the opposite of unreal. It felt too real because all you could feel was pain. It was numbing and excruciating all at once somehow, and having the whole town look at you like some walking magnet for tragedy didn’t help.

In truth, all of your friends got the stares. Two out of the group were gone—one drowned and one brutally murdered—and people looked at the rest of your friends like they didn’t know what to think of them…but you? Oh, they looked at you like they both feared and hated you, and you knew why.

It was only a year ago that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had gone missing, and now two of your friends met the same fate everyone suspected Rafe did. There was something in their eyes that held blame, and you might have found it funny if you weren’t so angry and sad and miserable.

You were only responsible for one of them.

“No fingerprints, no footprints, no nothing,” Kie whispered, angrily. “It’s like Pope was just killed and dumped by a ghost.”

JJ was silent as he stared out into the rich girl’s yard, and you worriedly eyed him. Cleo too. It’s not like any of you were doing okay, but JJ had lost the two people he was closest to in the world, and Cleo was now in the same boat as Sarah. It was then that the blonde girl shifted, a noise leaving her throat that had you all looking over.

“Do I have to be the one to say what we’re all thinking?”

She looked between you all with a heavy gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“That John B.’s accident wasn’t an accident…?”

Your lips parted at that, and you looked around to see that no one else had expected that either. No one else but Kie who simply wrapped her arms around herself. You recalled her words from last week, how she’d questioned why John B. was even out on the water that late. JJ had been so quick to shut it down, and despite having the same question as Kie, you’d also forced yourself to let it go.

You hadn’t wanted to fathom that someone had killed John B.

“Now, hold on-.”

“Oh, come on, JJ!” Sarah cried. “John B. drowns at one something in the morning, and a week later one of his best friends is murdered?”

You swallowed, hating this conversation.

“This is too coincidental,” she whispered, wiping her face.

The silence was loud as her accusation—and the implications that came with it—just hung in the air. You all looked between each other, and you could see it then. It was sinking in that this was too much of a coincidence, and Cleo spoke up.

“Why would anyone want to hurt them?”

“I think you mean why would anyone want to hurt us,” Kie threw out, and you all froze. “If someone did kill John B. and that same person killed Pope…isn’t it safe to assume they’re working their way through the group?”

You stood, really hating this conversation now, and stared out into the yard.

“I mean, what? Only John B. and Pope happened to piss this person off?”

“That’s even if what you’re saying is true,” JJ argued, visibly disturbed, now. “I mean, think about this. Who the hell did all of us piss off this damn bad? Huh? That doesn’t make any sense.”

It was then that your gaze met Cleo’s, and something passed through her eyes that you also knew passed through yours. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the other girl was thinking about that night, recalling a bloodstained carpet and shovels that would never see the light of day. Your lips parted as your gaze lowered, and feeling like you might be sick, you sat down. No. There was nothing you could think of that all of you had done to collectively anger someone this much. However, there was something that came to mind that four of you had done.

…but Rafe was dead.

He’d been dead for a year, and so what Cleo was obviously thinking was clearly not possible.

Even with that fact, it still didn’t prevent you from being terrified, and it was no surprise that none of you wanted to be alone. Even if John B.’s accident was just that, someone had still killed Pope, and Outer Banks now had a murderer in their midst. If people looked at you with disdain before, then it was nothing in comparison to when a curfew was enforced.

“First it was Rafe…”

You tensed at the sound of the voice.

“…then John B. and now Pope.”

You cut your eyes to Kelce as he walked by you.

“We don’t need a curfew. What we need is to search your damn house,” he sneered, turning his back to you as he strode away.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Sarah to exit the shop. You knew that Kelce wasn’t alone in his sentiment. It was only just the day before when your eyes had met Topper’s, the blonde’s gaze unreadable despite the clenching of his jaw. Topper was never the kind of guy to evoke intimidation, but that was before he thought you had something to do with the disappearance of his best friend.

When Rafe went missing, you were questioned. It was expected. After all, you weren’t just his girlfriend but also the girlfriend who everyone knew he would literally get crazy about. Your rocky off-and-on relationship was no secret, so naturally you were the first to be brought in. The police hadn’t been able to find anything though, not then and not for the past year, so any suspicions anyone might’ve had were probably long forgotten about.

Until now.

The only difference was that now not only did they think you killed Rafe, but also your best friends.

“They’re assholes. You know that,” Sarah told you as she drove you back to her place.

The Cameron household was where you’d been staying when you weren’t at home with JJ. Ever since that night, something in you felt wrong about accepting the Cameron’s hospitality and even setting foot into their house. That night was complicated, this much was true, but the fact remained that you were responsible for their pain. Ward would never be reunited with his son because of you.

Smiling in their faces and eating at their table left a sour feeling in your gut.

“…but I did kill Rafe,” you whispered.

Sarah glanced at you at that.

“We all did,” she finally said. “…and it wasn’t like that. He was choking you, he was…he was killing you. It was self-defense.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the cops will think rolling him up and burying him in the woods was self-defense,” you scoffed.

Sarah was parked in her yard, now, and she gripped your arm. Her expression was hard as she stared at you, lips pressed together.

“Stop that,” she bit out. “Rafe… Rafe wasn’t going to stop. We had no choice, and do I sometimes wish things had ended differently for him and for us? Yeah. Even the most estranged of siblings don’t actually want to kill each other, but what’s done is done.”

She looked between your eyes, and you swallowed, recalling that silent conversation with Cleo. You licked your lips, touching your forehead and swallowing down a sigh.

“What if it’s not done?” you wondered, almost inaudibly.

When you looked at Sarah again, there was a frown on her face.

“We definitely know of someone who’d want us dead,” you whispered, and you watched the color drain from Sarah’s face.

“…and he’s dead.”

“…but what if he’s not?” you choked out. “What if…? I mean, sure, there was blood and we hit him twice and we buried him, but what if-.”

“Stop,” Sarah breathed, resting her hands on the wheel. “Stop talking.”

“Sarah-.”

“I said stop!”

The blonde girl looked visibly distressed, eyes wide and lips trembling as she stared ahead.

“We killed him. He’s dead…and he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

Sarah sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than you. You could see how upsetting this conversation was for her, and again, you wished that night had gone differently. Getting your friends caught up in your relationship problems was your biggest regret, and no matter how many times they insisted they’d never take it back, it did nothing to ease your guilt.

Repeating Sarah’s words in your mind, you put thoughts of Rafe behind you.

You were having a horrifying case of déjà vu.

Around this time a year ago, you were also out in the middle of the woods at night, repeatedly stabbing at the dirt with a shovel. It had just rained then, and the ground had been wet—soft. You’d been less calm then, but also somehow less terrified than you were, now. A year ago, it had been four of you digging a hole.

Tonight, it was three.

Sticking together was the plan. Even if you didn’t collectively agree on it, there was the thought in all of your minds that someone was after you. Even JJ, who was in denial, didn’t turn down Sarah’s offer to sleep over at her place. Any other time where Rose and Ward would’ve vehemently opposed several Pogues taking up residence in their house, they were now a lot more welcoming.

Any doubt that you were being hunted like animals was nowhere to be found the night you discovered Cleo’s body.

The four of you were sleeping in Sarah’s room—JJ in the guest room right next door—when you heard the faintest thump. It seemed like forever ago, but in the night, it was oddly reminiscent of the day of Rose’s fall festivity or whatever—before John B. died. You recalled the noise you’d heard that day, your open window, and where you had written both of those things off, you now looked back in fear.

You’d sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. Noticing Cleo’s absence, you told yourself that she was getting something to drink or going to the bathroom. However, your effort to lay back down was halted when you heard it again—a faint thump from downstairs that made your hair stand on end for some reason. Glancing at your remaining best friends, you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Cleo?”

Your kept your voice low as you stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to unnecessarily wake the whole house. Only silence met you, and you frowned. The stillness of the house felt heavy, suffocating, and it unnerved you. It was just moments ago that it wasn’t so silent, and you walked back to Sarah’s room.

Glancing inside, there was still no sign of Cleo, and facing the fact that she wasn’t in the bathroom, you made your way downstairs.

The whole house was dark, and telling yourself that a light would be on if she was in the kitchen, you flipped the switch. An empty kitchen met you, as you expected, and your frown deepened. Walking back to the staircase, you looked up, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you climbed them. There were only so many places that she could be, and wondering if you’d missed her somehow, you checked all of the bathrooms. She wasn’t back in Sarah’s room either.

As you stood in the hallway, the complete darkness made you freeze.

It didn’t register, at first, and you stood there wracking your brain. Goosebumps completely covered your skin, now, and as you stared ahead, something in the back of your mind was screaming at you—sending off alarm bells. Something about this picture wasn’t right, and once it clicked, your heart sank to your gut.

There was no light coming from downstairs.

The kitchen light was now off.

Stumbling into Sarah’s room, you shook her and Kie awake.

“What, what?” the tan girl mumbled, Sarah’s huff coming from behind you.

“Something’s wrong,” you said, words tumbling over each other. “I can’t find Cleo.”

Both of them were wide awake, now, and Kie was frowning at you when Sarah turned her light on.

“What…?” she asked, disbelieving.

You tried to keep calm.

“I heard something, and I saw Cleo was gone, but she’s not in the bathroom, and she’s not downstairs,” you rushed out.

Sarah was still for half a second before she ran out of the room. While Kie went with her, you took it upon yourself to wake JJ, and once past his confusion, he was right on your heels as you made your way downstairs too. Kie was looking out the windows while Sarah searched each room.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” JJ said. “Don’t you guys have some alarm code or something? It’s not like she could’ve left without waking the whole house.”

JJ was right.

“So, what? You’re saying she’s still in the house? Hiding and playing some sick joke?” Sarah wondered, visibly stressed and scared. “That’s insane.”

You wondered if you should speak up about the kitchen light, about how someone had blatantly turned it off when you went upstairs. That car conversation with Sarah was on your mind, and your vision swam for a bit as you fought to keep upright. It might not be Cleo, but someone was definitely playing some sick joke.

“I’m going to wake my dad,” Sarah breathed. “This…this isn’t right.”

As she made to go upstairs, you slowly made your way to the back door. You stared out of the windows, scanning the yard for anything that might make sense of all this. The yard was empty, and you could hear JJ and Kie behind you as they talked and tried to make sense of what was going on. Too busy scanning the trees and what you could see of the neighbors, your gaze was focused much too high.

When you saw her, you wanted to be sick.

“Oh my God,” you choked out. “Oh my God, oh my God!”

You were scrambling to unlock the door before JJ or Kie could question you, and the house alarm was loud as you threw the door open. The grass was dewy and slippery, and you quite literally fell a few times before you reached her. You collapsed right next to her, and Kie’s scream was even louder than yours once she fully registered what she was seeing.

Your arms shook as you held Cleo’s broken body, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were too busy trying not to choke on your own sobs, you might’ve been screaming too. You could feel JJ’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to get you to let her go, but you felt possessed.

You couldn’t not hold her.

By now the rest of the household was outside too, and you could hear Rose on the phone, frantic and horrified. Mr. Cameron’s voice was in your ear as he too tried to get you to let her go. You couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you were hurting her any more—she was dead. Any hope for otherwise died the moment your wide eyes met her equally wide ones, dark gaze focused on the sky above. You felt like the least you could do was hold her—some kind of apology for not finding her sooner.

You were only convinced when the police showed up, Shoupe practically begging you to.

“We have to take her, now,” he said to you, his eyes meeting yours. “We have to do right by her and try and figure out what happened. You want that, don’t you?”

You remembered just staring at him, lips parted and chest heavy, before finally letting her go. JJ was quick to pull you beside him, his own hands trembling as he held you close. You knew that it was partly for you and partly for him. You completely leaned on him, feeling like you were moments away from fainting.

Especially so when you glanced up…your eyes landing on the open window of the second-floor bathroom.

You weren’t surprised the next day when you were face to face with Shoupe again and he said:

“She broke her neck.”

That wasn’t news to you. You found her…you held her, after all. You saw what she looked like, so his words were expected. His next, however, were not.

“Now, that could’ve happened when she fell…or it could’ve happened before.”

Your gaze lifted then, watching the older man heave a sigh and lean in closer across the table. His gaze was completely serious, lips pressed together and jaw clenched. He clasped his hands together as he regarded you.

“Now…I asked you this before when we pulled Pope out of that water…”

You swallowed.

“…and you gave me your answer then, and I believed you, but now I’m asking again.”

Tears kissed your eyes.

“…and depending on how you answer, I may not believe you this time.”

Dark blond hair and blue eyes filled your vision, a smooth and almost raspy baritone bouncing around between your ears. For just a moment, you weren’t in that room face to face with Shoupe. You were one year younger and rolling a lithe frame up in a bloody carpet. You and three other girls were carrying it to a familiar truck, determined to bury it where no one would ever find it. Even before Shoupe asked his question, that was all you could see.

…and yet, when he asked if you knew of anyone who’d want to hurt you and your friends, you still told him no.

That was two weeks ago, and now you were back in the woods…in a familiar spot…hoping to dig up a familiar face.

“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sarah spat, huffing as she stabbed at the dirt again.

“Look around!” Kie yelled, her voice bouncing off of the trees. “Three of our friends are dead! They’re dead, and you know what? When the cops asked if I knew of anyone who’d want to hurt them, I almost told them Rafe.”

You and Sarah paused at that, staring at her.

“Can you believe that? That sounds crazy, right because Rafe is dead, and..” she threw her arm up. “I would know!”

She was breathing hard, fighting to keep it together.

“…but Cleo was pushed. We all know that she didn’t fall. She was pushed, shoved, thrown, however you want to call it! Her neck was broken…and you all can say that it happened when she hit the ground, but I just don’t believe that.”

“Unless you’re saying one of us did it…” Sarah shrugged. “Someone would have to know the alarm code to not only turn it off, open the window, and toss her out…but also turn it back on as soon as they did it.”

“Sound like anyone we know?” Kie sarcastically wondered, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them.

There was a brief pause between you three as the horrifying possibility set in. Sarah was right. The requirements to pull something like that off fell to any of you, and you knew for a fact that none of you would ever, and so that was where Kie’s suspicions came in. Determined to face the truth one way or another, you continued to dig.

It felt so silly, attempting to dig up a man you’d most assuredly killed. You still had nightmares some nights about the feel of Rafe wrapping both hands around your neck, squeezing so tight that you were sure your neck would snap at any moment. Even when Sarah and Cleo had walked in, shocked and horrified at the sight before them, he hadn’t stopped.

He’d only been focused on killing you.

As you dug, you could remember their screams and the sound of them hitting him and trying to get him off. Nothing had worked, even when Kie came in, attempting to jump on his back. You didn’t know if it was the coke or alcohol that night that made him so determined to kill you regardless of witnesses. Either way, for your sake, you needed Rafe to be in this grave.

You could handle a lot of things, but you couldn’t handle Rafe still being out there.

“I don’t think we have the right spot,” Kie finally said after some time.

You yourself had briefly thought the same, but you remembered that night like the back of your hand. This was the right spot, and the longer you kept being greeted with dirt and more dirt, you could feel an internal panic setting in. Sarah stopped digging after Kie, but you kept going. You had to…because he had to be here.

“Y/N…”

“He’s here,” you breathed. “He has to be.”

Right now, there was only the sound of you frantically digging, and you hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until a sob bubbled up in your chest. You could hear Sarah calling your name again, but you paid her no mind, tossing the shovel aside and falling to your knees. You clawed at the dirt, looking for any sign of bone or clothing or even the damn rug!

“Y/N-,”

“No,” you screamed, throat hurting. “He has to be here, he has to be here.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, nails chipping and breaking as they only came in contact with dirt and sticks and rocks. Hitting your fist against the ground, you screamed again, this one dying into a fit of sobs. You felt Kie’s hands on your shoulders, and you struggled to breathe.

“This can’t be happening,” you heard Sarah breathe.

You pressed your face into your dirty hands, inconsolable as you were forced to face the truth.

“This doesn’t mean he’s alive,” Kie whispered. “Someone…someone else could know. I don’t know how, but it could be anyone else doing this, somebody who dug him up and is messing with us.”

“Or it could be Rafe!”

Your vision was blurry as you looked at her.

“It could be Rafe who wasn’t actually dead when we buried him. It could be Rafe killing my friends and torturing me and coming back to finish what he started!”

You pressed your forehead against the dirt, hunched over as the most awful wailing noise left you. You felt insane, like nothing in the world made sense, and you could hardly stand when Kie pulled you to your feet. If Rafe was still alive…your life as you knew it was over. You struggled to walk as Sarah put the shovels in the trunk, and when she closed it, she just stood there, hand pressed to the top with the other on her hip.

“So, what do we do? Do we go to the police and tell them that Rafe is doing this?”

“…and when they ask why?” Kie wondered, holding you upright. “What do we say? Y/N didn’t want to be with him anymore, so he ran off and came back a year later to kill her and her friends?”

You completely sank against the car, forehead pressed to the vehicle.

“…or better yet, what happens when we tell them we think Rafe is behind this only for his body to turn up? If everyone isn’t suspicious of us now—and they’re pretty fucking suspicious—they’ll definitely be then.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after some time, continuing when you felt their gazes on you. “I’m so  sorry.”

“What-?”

“This is my fault,” you choked out, forcing yourself to straighten. “I should’ve left him the first time he hurt me. I should’ve…should’ve told someone, I should have called the police.”

“Y/N, this isn’t your fault,” Sarah argued.

“Yes, it is,” you cried, attempting to wipe your face and only succeeding in putting more dirt on it. “You hit him to get him off of me, but… I didn’t have to hit him again. I didn’t have to do that. He was already passing out, and I could’ve just called the cops and-.”

“…and deal with Rafe again when he was inevitably released?” Kie threw out. “Look, Sarah, your family is okay and all, but let’s face it. Rafe would not have stayed in jail long, if at all with Ward backing him up with his money.”

Neither of you argued against that, and your gaze found the ground.

“We need to get back,” Sarah said in a small voice. “It’s way past curfew, and if someone catches us out here, we’ll be even bigger suspects than we already are.”

Sarah was right, and when it became apparent that you needed help moving your feet, she guided you to the passenger side. Kie settled in the backseat, and all of you were quiet, minds no doubt occupied with the possibilities of what tonight meant. Either Rafe wasn’t dead…or someone knew what you did and was getting even on his behalf.

When Sarah turned the car on, the lights shined into the trees before you. You lifted your head, gaze landing in front of the car, and your lips parted. You blinked at the trees, eyes narrowing when Sarah turned on her brights, putting the car in reverse. There’d been a split moment when Sarah’s lights came on—and your gaze wasn’t lifted all the way—that you thought you saw something next to one of the trees.

It looked like a person, standing and watching, but they were gone so quickly that you knew you had to have imagined it. The discovery of Rafe’s empty grave was getting to you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It seemed farfetched that Rafe hadn’t actually been dead that night. Murder weapons and such aside, you’d buried him, and how likely was it that he’d woken up to claw his way out instead of simply suffocating and bleeding to death?

It made more sense that this was someone else’s doing, but even still…

Despite burying him yourself, you never felt like Rafe was truly gone.

With three of your friends dead, the remaining four of you were not only being watched like hawks, but also refused to barely leave each other’s sides. Despite the fact that the police still couldn’t determine if Cleo’s death was murder or an accident, the popular opinion seemed to be the former. Walking through Outer Banks as everyone’s main suspect made a place that used to feel like home unbearable.

Deep down though, some part of you felt you deserved it.

Yes, Rafe was abusive and horrible, but it wasn’t up to you to play God. It wasn’t your place to determine whether or not he deserved to live, deserved to see his family again or redeem himself or go on to be even worse. That wasn’t your call, and despite how much relief you felt when you buried Rafe that night, something in you wanted to be punished for what you’d done.

…but not like this.

You never wanted this to come back on your friends and their family. Looking in the faces of their parents and now knowing this was all directly because of you was heartbreaking. Even if it wasn’t Rafe stalking the streets of Outer Banks and picking your friends off one by one, it was clearly someone doing so for him in some weird way. This all came back to Rafe, you just knew it.

…and they were trying to mess with your head in the process.

What else would they get out of moving his remains?

Considering what happened at Sarah’s house, it came as no surprise that the next spot of choice was Kie’s. It wasn’t without difficulty, and you recalled the way both of her parents huffed and puffed as she fought to convince them. You didn’t disagree with their reasoning. After all, you didn’t need to be a genius to know they were wary of you on some level. Too many people around you had died and gone missing.

They just didn’t want the same for Kie…and you wished you’d listened.

“We could leave,” JJ said to you in one of the Carrera’s guest rooms, hand clasped with yours. “I didn’t really want to believe it before but…”

JJ heaved a sigh.

“Someone’s after us for some reason,” he relented. “…and since we have no idea who or even why… Why not just take off?”

He shrugged at you, and guilt ate at you for a whole other reason these days. After Cleo’s death—and the traumatic night in which you discovered Rafe’s grave was empty—you grappled with the thought of telling JJ the truth. He deserved to know why his friends were dead, and why he had a target on his back. You even started to one day.

…but then you thought about him knowing this was all your fault…and blaming you too. You didn’t think you had the stomach or the strength to look him in the face and tell him that your actions that night came back on half of your friends. You didn’t want to face his reaction, and so you swallowed it down.

“I would if I could,” you told him. “…but aside from just how fucking guilty that would make me and us look…my parents are here. Even if they weren’t and we left, I don’t think that would make this stop. Sarah’s here, Kie is here, and whoever is doing this clearly wants all of our heads. They’re not going to give up just because some of us leave.”

You couldn’t stomach the thought of just taking off and leaving Kie and Sarah to fend for themselves. JJ nodded at that, understanding, and you closed your eyes when he reached for your face. You placed your own hand over his, and something clenched deep in your chest. It was so unfair that the moment you and JJ finally decided to stop being cowards, someone put a bounty on your heads.

Even if you made it out of this alive, how could you ever look back on the beginning of your relationship with anything other than grief and trauma? The two of you got together because of John B.’s death and any attempt to try and heal and make something good of this was ruined by the subsequent deaths of Pope and Cleo.

“Do you think this has something to do with Rafe?”

JJ’s question gave you pause, and you pulled back, staring at him with a frown. His expression was entirely serious, telling you that you had not in fact imagined his words. When you blinked at him, you watched him run his hand through his blond locks, the fair hair still damp from his shower.

“I know you killed him,” he confessed.

Your lips parted in shock, and you fought to make sense of what was happening. Disbelieving, you pushed yourself to your feet, looking down at your boyfriend. His gaze was soft, and you watched him exhale, slowly reaching for you.

“Wha…? What do you mean you know? What are-?”

“I overheard you guys talking about it…what…? Maybe three months after it happened?”

You looked away, slowly shaking your head. When you looked at him, there was no malice or disgust in his gaze, and you felt confused.

“I never said anything because I figured you wouldn’t like anyone else knowing,” he whispered.

JJ didn’t look bothered at all, and for some reason that threw you for a loop. Once his hand was back in yours, he tugged you until you sat down with him again. He took your moment of shock to lean in and kiss you—slow and gentle, and his thumb brushed your skin as he pulled away.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone,” you wondered, more of a statement, voicing your thoughts and confirming his assumption.

“…because Rafe was horrible to you, and not in that generic asshole boyfriend way, but…really horrible,” he told you. “The way he talked to you and treated you in public was disguising to witness, so it wasn’t hard to guess how much worse he was behind closed doors.”

You felt yourself deflating, hating that JJ had to come to grips with that terrifying truth.

“You don’t know how bad I hated him for treating you like that, how much I wanted to beg you to leave him, but you wouldn’t,” he spat, anger in his voice as he thought about the past. “You wouldn’t even come to any of us, and I just thought it wasn’t my place.”

You hadn’t realized how much of your tumultuous relationship with Rafe had been bleeding into other parts of your life almost since the beginning.

“I started to lose my mind over it, you know…just wondering if I was bad for not telling or bad for thinking about telling, but…”

He let out a humorless chuckle, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Plenty of times I thought about killing Rafe myself, so why would I hate you for having the balls to do what I could only fantasize about?”

You held JJ’s gaze, feeling shocked but also oh so light. You felt relieved that JJ knew, and you’d no longer have to carry around this guilt, but at the same time… You hated that JJ had been carrying this around for months—almost a year. Unlike you and the girls, JJ didn’t have anyone to talk to about this, forced to carry the burden of your secret alone…and you hated that. You hated yourself for that.

Your eyes burned with tears, and you just pressed your lips to his when a blood-curdling scream made you wince.

You and JJ looked at each other for half a second before he hurried out of the room with you right behind him. The screams didn’t stop, echoing throughout the house and mixing in with harsh sobs. There was a knot twisting in your gut, a feeling of dread washing over you like a cold shower. You and JJ took the stairs almost two at a time, and when you both made it to the living room, you paused in your tracks.

Kie had her hands over her mouth, but it was useless—she couldn’t stop screaming and crying. Sarah stood by the couch, frozen in shock, and you didn’t miss what her wide and stricken eyes were focused on. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera were sitting on the couch, facing the blasting TV as they had been for God knows how long. However, something about their posture was off, and when you slowly brushed by JJ to join Sarah…you realized why.

Blood covered the entire front of them both, eyes open and unseeing, mouths open in mid-scream.

Their throats were slit.

Before the horror of what this meant could even settle in, the power in the house went out, bathing you in darkness. The lights from the neighbors and the street were not enough, and you heard Sarah telling Kie to get up. JJ’s hand was on your arm as he pulled you along too, all four of you heading for the door.

Sarah only just opened it when you heard her let out a choked gasp.

She was still, and you worriedly eyed her.

“Sarah?” JJ called her name. “Sarah, what’s…?”

He trailed off, his words dying in the air as Sarah stumbled back. She fell against Kie, and the other girl fought to catch her as the blonde reached up towards her chest. With what little light you had, your eyes focused on what she was gesturing to. Your entire vision swayed once you saw the knife protruding from it.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, and JJ yanked you back away from the door.

You in turn yanked Kie who was forced to let Sarah go. The sound of her body dropping made you wince. Unable to stay with her, the three of you now headed towards the back door. Behind you, you could hear the front door slamming shut, and the sound of it had bile rising in your throat.

The house was still dark, and besides your own heavy breathing, you heard the sound of footsteps coming from the living room. You were the first to make it to the door, hand on the knob when you heard the last thing you ever expected for some reason. The glass in front of you shattered, but your ears were ringing from the gunshot more than anything.

“Fuck,” you heard JJ curse, and you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you to the side.

You didn’t realize why until you looked back.

Kie was in a heap at the foot of the door, her blood decorating the remaining glass in the window and the floor too. She was completely still, and the knowledge that two more of your friends were dead within just minutes of each other had you ready to faint. Despite that, with JJ’s help, you were able to keep your feet moving.

He pulled you into the hallway that connected to the kitchen, and on the other side of the wall, you could hear the slow and heavy footsteps. When the crunch of glass was heard, JJ pulled you further along towards the kitchen—towards the front of the house. You were shaking as you slid along the wall, and when the footsteps stopped, so did JJ.

You both were completely still as you waited and listened. Both of your phones were upstairs in the guest room, but you recalled Sarah reaching for hers when she opened the door. It had to still be near her, provided that whoever was in the house hadn’t taken it. JJ seemed to have the same idea as you, because he slowly moved through the kitchen and towards the front door.

A gunshot stopped his efforts.

“Go, go,” JJ hissed, pushing you away from him so harshly that you stumbled and fell back.

You were half in the kitchen half in the hallway when a figure approached the blond who was now also on the floor, clutching his side. You frantically crawled back, vision blurring from your tears just as they stood over him. Your back was pressed to the wall, staring at the one before you with quiet sobs when you heard it.

JJ’s gasps were loud and pained as he was attacked. One, two…seventeen, you counted. You thought to yourself how angry and evil someone has to be to stab someone else seventeen times. You kept your hand pressed to your mouth the entire time, fighting the urge to be sick. When you could no longer hear JJ, you squeezed your eyes shut.

A defeated feeling washed over you, and it was the feeling of being utterly alone.

You could hear those terrifying footsteps again, and when it sounded like they were coming near you from the other side, you sprinted for the door.

Refusing to look at the bodies of your friends, you fought to run across the street. The neighbor’s lights were on, and your legs burned as you pushed yourself as fast as you could. You refused to look back—too scared to—and you practically collapsed at their door as you banged on it. Some of Kie’s blood was on you, and it marred the door as you repeatedly hit it like a woman possessed.

“Open the door, please, please,” you screamed, looking over your shoulder.

You couldn’t see anyone, but you weren’t fooled. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing on this stranger’s porch. You were beating their door so hard that your fists were beginning to ache, and your throat scratched from your screams—strained and raw. When the door finally swung open, you quite literally fell inside.

“What in the world-? Oh my goodness,” a small voice said from over you.

Small and brittle hands helped you to your feet, and you felt bad at almost knocking her over in your efforts to make sure no one was behind you. You slammed the door shut and locked it, chest heaving and feeling much too tight. You were sure that you were almost on the verge of a heart attack. You had to be.

“Sweetheart,” the old lady called. “Call the police!”

She took your hands, guiding you to the kitchen where she grabbed a rag.

“He killed them,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. “My friends are dead.”

The words didn’t even sound real to you, like some nightmare you’d conjured up, but they were real. Your friends had been picked off one by one for weeks before the rest were finally taken from you in one night. You were alone, and that fact made you cry harder.

“The phone’s not working,” you heard another aged voice say.

You froze at that, looking up just as the woman wobbled to the kitchen entrance.

“What?” you breathed.

“What do you mean it’s not working?” she tutted, and you were quick to follow behind her.

She met up with a man who you assumed was her husband in the hallway, and he did a double take at the sight of you.

“Good lord,” he breathed. “What happened?”

“Never mind that,” she dismissed him, making her way past him. “My granddaughter bought me one of those smart phones, but I hardly ever use the thing. We’ll find that and then we’ll call the police, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to let her out of your sight, terrified of being alone, but the elderly man reminded you of his presence. He guided you back into the kitchen with a strained but kind smile. You could tell that your presence worried him. You were in his house in the middle of the night covered in blood, after all.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble when he handed you the damp rag.

The feel of Kie’s blood on you was both comforting and horrifying. Your friend wasn’t with you, but this small part of her was, but at the same time, it only reminded you of her gruesome and tragic death. The woman came back through the hallway, joining her husband in the living room, and you heard her mumbling something about hoping the cops would come quick when there was a knock on the door.

The sound of it made your stomach drop, and you stood in the kitchen, rag tight in your hand. What were the chances they’d be getting some friendly visit at this time of night? Right after all your friends were brutally murdered, and you were forced to seek refuge at this very house?

You’d only taken one step forward when you heard the door open, followed by a startled gasp. It happened quick, too quick for you to even process, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the woman’s husband yelping too, a loud thud reaching your ears. Before today, you didn’t know what it sounded like to stab someone or cut their throat. You stumbled back, eyes wide and heart so loud in your ears that it was all you could hear for a moment.

You felt so cold, and you had the shivers to prove it, and slowly but surely…you reached for the knife in the sink.

The house was so quiet, and you didn’t hear a single breath or footstep. Taking a hesitant step forward, you held the knife out in front of you, briefly squeezing your eyes shut. Stepping into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see the bodies of the poor couple who’d just tried to help you. Blood stretched from beneath them like a stream. You pressed your free hand to your mouth, swallowing down a sob.

You were surprised, however, to see an empty living room.

Your brain was completely empty, feeling like you were short-circuiting. You were being toyed with, that much was obvious, and your lips trembled as you slowly spun, fighting to see any sign of your tormentor. Slowly kneeling, you looked for the woman’s cellphone, and you had to swallow down a curse when you realized it was gone.

You stood in the living room, feeling like you were losing your mind with no idea of what to do next. You could run back across the street to Kie’s where you knew a phone was…or you could try another neighbor. A last resort of an option flitted through your mind, anger briefly filling you as you considered simply killing the person who did this.

The front porch creaked, and your gaze zeroed in on the door.

Backing up, you moved further into the house and further away from the door. You glanced over your shoulder, arm grazing the wall as you hid in the hallway. You could hear the door opening just as you disappeared around the corner, and as you slowly and quietly moved about the back of the house, you wanted to cry with the realization that they had no back door.

The house was so modest and quaint that you hadn’t even considered that possibility.

Tears of frustration and fear skipped down your face just as the upbeat tune of a whistle reached your ears. You didn’t know why, but something about it made you so angry. You were being played with, like a damn mouse in the grasp of some cat. How this person could snuff out life like it was nothing and be so giddy about it, you didn’t know. It disgusted you.

…and so the knife was tight in your hand as you stomped back towards the living room.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to die tonight, and you’d rather it be fighting and on your terms. The lifeless faces of your friends were all that plagued your thoughts, one after the other being taken from you so easily. As if they were nothing. You thought you were prepared for the person you’d grown to hate most in the world.

…but you weren’t prepared for the sight of Barry sprawled along the couch without a care in the world.

You actually came up short, stopping in your tracks in both shock and disbelief. You felt your lips part, and your hold on the knife wasn’t so firm, now, almost dropping it. A myriad of emotions hit you at once, none of them good, but the loudest and most prominent was…confusion.

You barely knew Barry, really only in passing. The only time you ever saw him was when you happened to be in Rafe’s truck when he needed to make some exchange, the dark-haired man always giving you a mockingly prissy wave. You never talked to him outside of pleasantries, and quite frankly you hated being around him. Somehow, he always managed to bring out the worst in Rafe, egging on any of Rafe’s disgusting behaviors.

He never called you by your name, it was always—

“Mrs. Country Club,” he drawled, that familiar cheeky half grin on his lips.

The gold in his mouth winked at you as you just stood there, and your stomach turned.

“Barry?” you breathed, and he simply raised his hands as if to say ‘the one and only’. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He raised his brows at that, pursing his lips together to fight off a smirk. You looked around, trying to make sense of this before taking a shaky breath.

“Why?” you spat, gaze meeting his unreadable one. “I don’t understand…”

Your words died in your throat, getting choked up.

“Why?”

He played with his hair, a look of confusion on his face.

“Why what…?”

“You’re not funny,” you sneered. “You’re not. Why? Why? Why?”

You screamed the last one, face wet with tears, and all the while he simply…smirked at you.

“How about this… I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” he proposed, gesturing between you. “Did you feel bad when you dumped your boyfriend in the woods?”

His question made so much click, and you sighed, eyes briefly closing.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Somehow, someway, Topper and Kelce were like brothers to Rafe despite their differences, but Barry? You always hated how your ex-boyfriend managed to find a camaraderie in the dangerous drug dealer, both of them cut from the same psycho cloth. Only Barry could never go to the lengths Rafe did. At least, that was what you always thought…

The laugh that left you seemed to surprise both of you, and he blinked, brows raising again as he just…looked at you.

“That’s what this is about?” you breathed, voice shaking from anger and grief and disgust. “Revenge because I killed your bestie?”

Your tone was mocking, and all the while, Barry just stared at you.

“I guess psycho little rich boys must be hard to come by,” you spat. “Forgive me. Had I known you were going to take it so hard, I would’ve tried to make it look like some tragic accident instead.”

Again, he said nothing at all, and you recalled he’d asked you a question.

“…but to answer your question, no. I didn’t.”

The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at that, smirk growing.

“Rafe treated me like his property, like he could do whatever he wanted to me…and best believe…he took full advantage,” you forced out. “That night it was him or me…and I chose me.”

The other man jutted his lip out a bit, nodding in a way that suggested he was almost impressed. You looked at the bodies of the poor couple who’d gotten caught up in your shit, and you wiped your face, more tears spilling over. You adjusted the knife in your hand, staring him down.

“So, are you going to try and kill me or what?”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what this whole thing has been about, right?” you threw your arms up. “Tormenting me, driving me crazy, taking my friends from me and saving me for last so I knew what was coming, right?”

His silence actually angered you, now, and you roughly exhaled through your nose.

“What are you waiting for?” you brokenly questioned, startled by the sound of his chuckle.

It was genuine.

“I am offended,” he laughed, hands grazing his chest as he sat up straight. “Do I seem like a bloodthirsty murderer to you? Come on, now, Mrs. Country Club. You know that’s not my style.”

His words confused you.

“Truthfully,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his lips. “I’m just here for the show.”

You were so startled by the tight grip on your wrist that you dropped the knife, your lifeline clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Another knife—a bigger one—was at your throat, and you sharply inhaled at the feel of cool metal to your skin. In your attempt to get away from the blade, you pressed yourself further into the chest at your back. His hand on your wrist briefly tightened, so bad that you cried out in pain, but the tears that poured over had nothing to do with that.

You heard his deep breaths, and it wasn’t because his lips were at your ear, but because you’d stopped breathing. You couldn’t feel your heart, an icy emptiness in your chest where it was supposed to be, and the noise that finally left your lips was a cross between a gasp and a cry. The knife at your throat pressed harder into your skin, feeling a slight sting there, but it was nothing in comparison to the feel of his face pressing into the area where your neck and shoulder met.

He deeply inhaled, and a shudder passed through you.

“Word of advice…”

You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice, hoping for anything other than what you accepted as the truth.

“…if you’re going to bury someone,” his lips were at your ear again, and his tone was chilling. “Make sure they’re actually dead.”

A sob finally escaped, and your tearful eyes rested on the ceiling.

“Unlike you, I don’t make that mistake.”

Revulsion filled you, and you were certain that now you really were going to be sick.

“When I set out to kill someone, I get the job done,” he purred, a kiss to your neck. “…but you know that better than anyone, baby.”

You couldn’t even describe the feeling of being in Rafe’s arms again. There was too much going on within you to pinpoint one feeling, but above all else, you knew that you felt fear. Not once had you ever been able to actually heal from Rafe’s abuse. He was the thing you feared most in the world…and then you killed him.

That wasn’t healing.

That was just getting rid of the problem, but the fear and inferiority complex and damage still remained. You were happier with him gone, and you’d mistakenly took that for healing, but now that he was back… Now that Rafe was alive and well and a thousand times worse than you knew him to be, all of that came back, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”

It was so hard to breathe, and you couldn’t answer Rafe’s question even if you wanted to.

“Nothing to say about how you hit me upside the head and buried me in the woods like a fucking dog?”

He shook you as he said this, and you cried out. Evidently, that made him angrier, and you soon found yourself thrown to the floor. Your legs landed in blood, and your attempt to crawl away was halted by Rafe’s hand in your hair. He yanked you back until you were on your knees, and when you reached up, his other hand had the knife at your throat.

“Oh, wait, that’s right. What was it you said? It came down to you…or me…?” he chuckled, purposefully nicking your neck. “…and you chose you…right?”

He shoved you again, and you struggled to get to the wall, leaning against it and finally facing him.

It actually hurt you to see that he was just as beautiful as the day you buried him. Of course, he was sober, now, but what did that count for when he also had half a dozen literal bodies under his belt now? Blood stained his shirt, so much of it, and you wondered how much of it belonged to your friends. Your lips trembled as he pushed his hair out of his face, his other hand still holding the bloody knife.

“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he suddenly said although he didn’t sound sorry, at all.

Your face crumbled, and he chuckled.

“It wasn’t my intention for him to go like that, but…” he wiped blood off of his forehead. “I couldn’t quite get the image of him on top of you out of my head.”

Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in shock as you recalled the day you told yourself you were imagining things.

“Truthfully, Sarah was supposed to be last,” he casually said, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. “My own fucking sister.”

He scoffed, and something passed through his gaze that told you he was genuinely hurt about Sarah’s so-called betrayal. His blue eyes rested on you, and you were suddenly thinking about the last time you stared into them…when he had his hands around your throat, choking the life out of you. Rafe seemed to be thinking about that night too, and you watched his gaze briefly fall to the floor, sniffing.

“I gotta admit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He looked into your eyes again, and you realized that you hadn’t stopped crying once since he revealed himself to you. Your gaze briefly landed on Barry who was still on the couch, watching the whole ordeal like this was some tv show instead of real fucking life.

“Rafe…” you choked out.

“…but I can promise you,” the blond sneered, pointing the knife at you. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

You closed your eyes, fresh tears falling, and you struggled to swallow.

“Just get it over with already,” you breathed, so tired and…defeated. “Just kill me.”

When you opened your eyes, Rafe looked genuinely amused at the words that left your mouth. You weren’t surprised when he chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder at Barry, still laughing.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Your confusion must have been evident because he laughed again. Rafe stepped towards you until your eyes were level with his crotch, and you hated the way he looked down at you, like you were this helpless and hapless thing that he was just going to have so much fun with. When he slowly knelt before you, you flinched as he lifted his hand, the end of the knife lightly grazing your cheek before it trailed down your neck. Rafe’s blue gaze followed the descent, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”

His almost inaudible words were loud and clear to you though, and you felt like you’d been shot.

“I won’t lie,” he said, staring at your collarbone. “I thought about. It was the first thing on my mind when Barry pulled me out of that grave you put me in.”

You swallowed when his gaze snapped to yours.

“I wanted to gut you like those fish my dad are always reeling in,” he spat. “I wanted to cut you open.”

You shook your head, letting it fall as you cried.

“…but this seemed soo much better,” he breathed, voice shaky, and you knew it wasn’t from fear nor anger.

Rafe was excited.

“…because you know what’s so much better than murdering all of your friends and forcing you to live with the fact that their deaths are on your hands? Hmm?”

He reached up, lightly grazing your lips with his fingers.

“Do you know what’s better than that?”

His hand tightened around your chin, and knowing him like the back of your hand, you knew he actually wanted an answer.

“No,” you muttered.

Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss as he whispered his response.

“Having you all to myself.”

You didn’t have time to resist before Rafe was yanking you up by your hair, quite literally dragging you through this stranger’s house. Your feet tripped over one another, and several times you almost fell. Rafe finally wrapped an arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold as he forced you down the hall. The moment you tried to scream, his hand was there, forcing it down, and when he tossed you into the bedroom, your forehead hit the leg of the bed.

You heard him whistle.

“The old geezers have taste,” he praised. “…bet this is where that granddaughter of theirs sleeps when she comes to visit.”

You were a sobbing mess, just barely pushing yourself to your knees when Rafe tackled you onto your back. Not unfamiliar with this predicament, you fought against him, hitting him and scratching at his face. Any resistance was met with a genuine laugh, and when Rafe had both of your wrists pinned down beside your head, he tilted his own at you.

“You already killed me, baby,” he breathed. “What more could you do to me?”

The scream you let out was filled with equal pain and frustration, kicking out when he sank his teeth into your chest. It was done with the full intent to hurt, and he succeeded, pain blooming beneath your skin as he tore at your shirt.

Becoming reacquainted with his knife, you tried to scoot back as he sliced through your pants with it, pulling the jeans off of you in tatters. Fearful of the weapon in his hand, you tried to push at his arm, but when his free hand wrapped around your throat, effectively pinning you down, the knife found its way to your stomach.

You breath hitched as you froze.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rafe hummed. “I might just…slip.”

You yelped at the sharp feeling along your stomach, and the burn you felt told you there was a cut there. He didn’t let go of the knife as he undressed himself with his other hand, and when he reached for your bra, the blade was pressed to your throat the entire time. You couldn’t stop shaking even if you wanted to, and Rafe made a show of taking his time as he settled between your legs.

“I hope you know how much planning went into this…”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“…and I hope you know that this was all that kept me going.”

When he pushed into you, you gasped in both pain and shock. You hadn’t been with Rafe—with anyone—in a year, and you struggled to adjust. Fresh tears escaped, and when Rafe’s bloody hand gripped your jaw, he turned your head to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle, nothing at all like the rough thrusts he started to give you.

Your back rubbed against the floor as he fucked you, and your crying was drowned out by the sound of his deep moans. Rafe sounded like he was in heaven while you felt like you were in hell. The feel of his cock pushing into you made your mind shrivel with disgust, but your body responded exactly how he wanted.

“I missed you,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

You sobbed louder, hating the way his thrusts became smoother, now. Your body greedily sucked him in with every push of his hips, and as his hands ran over you, all you could think about were these same hands killing your friends. These same hands that had done so much damage to your life even before that fateful night last year.

With a tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, Rafe forced your head back, and he took his time grazing his teeth along your skin. You could still feel the cool blade of the knife on your skin whenever he moved his other hand. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed like every nightmare you’d had about Rafe had come true…only multiplied by one hundred.

He pressed a hand into your stomach, holding himself up that way while the other hand pressed the knife to your throat. A fresh bout of sobs escaped, and you swore that Rafe actually smiled. You were proven right when he laughed, a deep and raspy chuckle that made your hair stand on end.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “…being so weak and at the mercy of someone else?”

It was sick how Rafe didn’t seem to realize that you knew this feeling long before today. Countless days filled with fear and yelling and manhandling plagued your mind, and the knowledge that Rafe had no intention of ending your suffering was enough to make you go numb.

As if sensing that, Rafe pressed the blade into your throat.

Your gasped turned into cries as you reached up.

“Uh uh,” he panted. “None of that. You are going to lie here…and you’re going to think about what you did to me.”

You gripped his wrist, eyes pleading. Rafe leaned in, nose pressed to yours with a knife pressed to your throat and a hand pressed to your stomach.

“You’re going to lie here, and take my cock, and thank God that I decided to spare your life.”

A particular hard thrust made you gasp.

“Every day, for as long as you live, I want you to think about your friends and remember that they are dead because of you…”

You closed your eyes, and Rafe dug the knife into your throat.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he breathed, continuing when you obeyed. “They are dead because you failed to kill me, and every time I come inside of you, you should take it with nothing less than gratitude.”

He kissed you then, roughly and lacking of any kind of love. It was purely done for show, to exert his power over you and remind you that you belonged to him. You tried to turn your head, and in doing so, you caught sight of Barry leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. The sight made you turn your head away, sobbing beneath Rafe.

“…because never forget that I wanted to cut you open,” he whispered in your ear, grinding his hips against yours and forcing a choked moan from your lips. “…but where is the fun in killing you when this is so much better.”

[yeostinys]

My Dear Darling

Chapter 3

Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader

Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!

Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Alcohol consumption, Explicit language. Yunho and Wooyoung focus in this chapter. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)

Word Count: 5k

Synopsis: Your relationship with ATZ gets more comfortable as you spend more time with them…

previous >>> next chapter

———————————————————————

“Alright class is dismissed! Don’t forget we have an exam next week”

You rise from your seat and sigh. It’s finally the weekend so you quickly pack your things and make your way to the door. You haven’t seen ATZ for a few days, with mid terms coming up you have all been busy. You can’t deny you often find yourself wanting to be around them more than usual. As you walk out the classroom you see a familiar figure in the distance leaning against a pillar. You smile and make your way to him.

“Yunho~” you stop in front of him and smile

“Hey pretty” Yunho winks at you and ruffles your hair.

“What are you doing here? do you have a class near by?” You ask and he shakes his head in response.

“Nope, i’m just here to pick you up” Yunho smiles as he grabs your bag from your shoulder and slings it over his.

“Are you heading home or do you have another class?” He asks as he stretches his hand towards you and you interlock fingers.

“I’m done for today finally. I was going to head home-” You reply with a tiring sigh.

“Mm okay. Let’s go! I’ll take you home” Yunho smiles and grips your hand tighter. You quickly shake your head,

“Ah, no it’s okay! I don’t want to go home anymore... I’ll go with you to the ATZ house” You say sheepishly. Yunho chuckles and leans down towards you

“Y/N, if you’re tired you don’t have to” he says softly.

“No it’s not that. I really want to go… I want to see everyone” You say with a soft smile. Yunho smiles back at you and nods.

As you two walk hand in hand across the campus, the vibrant autumn leaves crunch underfoot. Yunho leans in closer, his voice is deep and soft as he recounts the day’s mishaps, making your heart flutter. When you arrive to the ATZ house, you notice it’s quieter than usual.

“Where is everyone?” You ask as you take off your shoes.

“Hmm they should be back soon. everyone’s schedule ends around 2” Yunho replies as he takes you to the kitchen.

“Are you thirsty?” Yunho opens the fridge and takes out a water bottle and some iced tea.

“I’ll just have water, thanks, Yuyu,�� you reply, a smile breaking across your face. You settle onto the barstool at the kitchen island, your legs swinging slightly as you watch Yunho move around the kitchen. The soft glow of the overhead lights reflects off his features, highlighting the playful spark in his eyes as he reaches for a water bottle.

He hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment longer than necessary, before he rummages through the cupboard for snacks. You can’t help but admire how effortlessly he navigates the space, his movements fluid and confident.

Moments later, he approaches you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he holds out a gummy snack, vibrant in color. Your heart races as you part your lips slightly, allowing him to feed you the treat. The brief contact of your lips against his fingertips sends a jolt of warmth through you, and you catch the playful smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

In a sudden, bold move, Yunho spins your chair around so that you’re facing him, leaning forward with his hands planted firmly on the counter, effectively trapping you in place. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you avert your gaze, flustered by the closeness.

“How are midterms going for you?” You ask as you grab your water bottle.

“Hm it’s fine” Yunho says casually as he stares at you. He leans closer and brushes a hair out of your face.

“How about you?” He asks softly, his hand remaining on the side of your face.

“Good… just tiring though” You look at your fiddling fingers in your lap.

“Y/N,” Yunho calls your name, his deep, honeyed voice enveloping you like a warm embrace. You glance up, and suddenly the world around you fades, leaving only the magnetic pull of his presence. His face hovers just inches from yours, a mixture of concern and curiosity dancing in his dark eyes. You can feel the gentle warmth of his breath brush against your skin, sending an unexpected thrill racing through you. Time seems to stand still as you lock eyes, the unspoken tension hanging in the air between you, thick and electric. Every heartbeat feels amplified in this intimate moment, and you can’t help but wonder what lies behind that earnest gaze.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is softer, like a whisper. You nod. And without wasting time he connects his lips with yours. The kiss is soft but deep. He pulls away and you quietly whine. He chuckles and cups both of his hands on your face. Returning back to your lips the kiss turns into a passionate make out. His lips are so soft as they move against yours skillfully. You softly place your palms on his shoulder and slowly pull away from him. You try to maintain your breath and Yunho notices. He releases a chuckle,

“Sorry I got carried away” He takes a few steps back and you look at him.

“No, it’s okay. I liked it” You blush and he smiles at you. He reaches for your hands and rubs them with his thumb.

“I really really like you Y/N” Yunho says softly.

“I like you too Yunho” you giggle at him and he chuckles back, looking down at his feet. Yunho opens his mouth about to say something but a voice interrupts you both.

“*gasp!* Y/N IS HERE! THATS HER SHOES!” You hear Wooyoung’s voice from a distance and you laugh. Yunho shakes his head and drags you out of the kitchen.

“Y/N-ie!” Wooyoung calls out as he dashes toward you. Before you can fully prepare yourself, he envelops you in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. Laughter bubbles up from your chest as the world twirls around you, the warmth of his joy infectious.

“Hi, Woo!” you manage to say as he sets you down, a grin plastered across your face. Your arms linger over his neck and his hands rest comfortably on your waist, grounding you.

As you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can’t help but notice the bright spark in his eyes. Your laughter fades into a soft smile, but your attention is drawn to the figures approaching behind him. You glance over Wooyoung’s shoulder and spot Yeosang and San making their way toward you.

“Hey there, pretty,” Yeosang greets you, his voice smooth and playful as he approaches. With a gentle ruffle of your hair and you can’t help but scrunch your nose.

“Hi, Yeo,” you reply, your smile brightening.

As you shift your gaze toward San, who is already heading toward the stairs

“Hi, San” you say casually.

“Hey, baby,” San replies, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he glances back at you. He continues his ascent up the steps, leaving you momentarily speechless, heat creeping into your cheeks.

Baby?! The word hangs in the air, reverberating in your mind. You’ve grown accustomed to the nicknames the boys throw around—“Pretty” and “Darling” being favorites. But this was different. Especially coming from San.

“Are you blushing?” Wooyoung’s teasing voice snaps you back to reality, his arms still resting firmly on your waist, pulling you closer against him. You gasp, momentarily taken aback by his closeness, and lightly hit his shoulder in protest.

“No,” you retort, attempting to wriggle free from his playful grip, though part of you doesn’t really want to let go.

“Yes, you are! You’re blushing from San calling you ‘Baby’!” Wooyoung’s laughter rings out, bright and infectious, as he tugs you closer, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“Woo, pleaseee!” you exclaim, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You instinctively hide your face in your palms, wishing you could disappear for just a moment while he continues to chuckle at your embarrassment.

“Stop tormenting Y/N,” Yeosang interjects with a warm laugh, settling onto the couch next to Yunho, who shares an amused glance with him.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, baby~” Wooyoung concedes, finally releasing his hold on you and ruffling your hair affectionately. You pout at him, annoyed yet endearing, before making your way over to Yeosang.

You plop down next to him, grateful for the comforting presence. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, grounding you as you cross your arms defensively.

“Woo is teasing me,” you grumble, glancing back at Wooyoung with mock irritation.

“Shall I teach him a lesson, baby?” Yeosang teases, his tone playful yet somehow serious, a smirk on his face that only deepens the blush creeping up your neck. You straighten up at his words, trying to regain your composure, but the sight of Wooyoung, Yunho, and Yeosang erupting into laughter only adds to your embarrassment.

“I’m leaving,” you joke, standing up from the couch in a mock huff, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips as their laughter follows you.

“Nooooo, don’t leave!” Wooyoung whines dramatically, his footsteps echoing behind you as you quicken your pace. You can’t help but smile to yourself, the lighthearted chase adding a thrill to the moment. Just as you pick up speed, the front door swings open with a creak, and Hongjoong steps inside, a look of confusion etched on his face.

Seizing the opportunity, you dash toward him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a spontaneous embrace.

“Hongjoong! Woo is bullying me!” You bury your face against his chest, the comforting warmth of his presence instantly calming your flustered nerves. Hongjoong’s laughter vibrates through his chest, a rich, melodic sound that makes you grin even wider.

“Quit it, Woo,” he calls over your shoulder, raising a fist playfully in Wooyoung’s direction.

Wooyoung laughs in response, bowing in mock submission before dashing back toward the couch, his antics only further adding to your amusement. You pull back slightly to look up at Hongjoong, who can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding around him.

“Hey, darling,” he greets, his tone warm and familiar.

“Hi, Joong,” you reply, your smile softening as he pulls you into a proper hug. The embrace is secure and reassuring, a moment of connection amidst the playful chaos. You relish the feeling, grateful for his presence as you enjoy a brief escape from the teasing and laughter surrounding you.

———

As all the boys eventually come home, You gathered around the coffee table, a vibrant spread of takeout containers laid out like a feast. The aroma of spicy noodles, savory dumplings, and sweet-and-sour dishes wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. The low hum of conversation filled the room as everyone dug in, recounting the events of their day.

Seonghwa, seated beside you, had an endearing habit of piling dumplings onto your plate. With each tender morsel, he would smile and say, “Try this one.”

You giggled, the warmth of his gesture making your heart flutter. In return, you picked up a dumpling and delicately placed it on his plate.

“Thank you, Hwa,” you said, your voice light with affection.

From across the table, Wooyoung piped up, his playful demeanor shining through.

“I want one too, baby” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned forward.

You shot him a glare, sticking your tongue out in a playful protest. His laughter filled the room, infectious and bright, coaxing a smile from you despite your feigned annoyance. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed another dumpling and placed it on Wooyoung’s plate, unable to resist his charm.

“Ah, just a reminder that we’re all going to XIK’s party tomorrow,” Hongjoong announced, slurping on his noodles.

At the mention of the party, Jongho turned to you, his expression earnest.

“Y/N, do you want to come with us?” His tone was inviting, encouraging you to join in on the fun.

You hesitated, the idea swirling in your mind.

“Mm… I’m not sure,” you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice.

“It’s up to you if you want to go, darling.” Mingi chimed in.

“I’ll ask Jia if she’s going,” you decided, feeling a spark of hope. The boys nodded in agreement, their attention returning to the food, laughter echoing as they shared stories and playful jabs.

———

As the boys gradually dispersed to engage in their own pursuits around the house, you found yourself following Yunho. The lingering memory of your recent make-out session played in your mind, a mix of warmth and anticipation. You recalled how he had been about to say something just before the moment was interrupted, and that thought kept tugging at you.

You followed him quietly as he made his way towards the stairs. He seemed to sense your presence, glancing back with a knowing smile that made your heart race. As he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through you. Together, you ascended the staircase, the soft creak of the wooden steps underscoring the intimacy of the moment.

“What are you doing?” you asked, curiosity lacing your voice as you entered his room behind him.

“Mm, nothing much. Just going to finish up this project,” Yunho replied, settling into his chair at the desk and opening his laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face, highlighting the focused determination in his eyes.

You wandered toward the edge of his bed, the comforter neatly arranged, contrasting with the organized chaos of his desk. As you took in your surroundings, your gaze drifted over the walls adorned with photos capturing memories of laughter and friendship, and a collection of figurines that reflected his interests and quirks. It was a glimpse into his world, and you felt a sense of belonging wash over you. Yunho looked up from his screen, a smile breaking across his face.

“Something on your mind, pretty?” His tone was playful, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity that made your heart flutter. You shook your head, hesitant to reveal too much, yet the eye contact held you captive.

He pushed his chair closer to you, grasping your hands gently. The warmth of his touch sent a thrill through you as he pressed a soft kiss to your palm, rubbing it affectionately. You felt the world outside fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this intimate moment.

“Were you going to say something earlier? Before Woo and them came home?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, laced with anticipation.

Yunho chuckled, a deep, warm sound that reverberated in your chest.

“I was,” he admitted, pulling you gently onto his lap. The shift in position felt electrifying, and your heart raced at the closeness, your legs resting beside his.

“What were you going to say?” You began to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Hmm… should I tell you?” He teased.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You responded. He chuckled again.

“I’m joking Y/N” He leans back in his seat and keeps his hands on your waist.

“I was just going to tell you… that first summer we met working in the university library I was so intrigued by you. And then the second summer we spent together I think I really fell for you.“ Yunho says casually as he looked down for a moment, his fingers still gently rubbing your waist. When he met your gaze again, there was a sincerity in his eyes that sent a rush of warmth through you.

“How so?” you asked, genuinely curious, your heart fluttering at his words.

He leaned back slightly, contemplating as if choosing his next words carefully. “Hmm... I don’t know how to explain it exactly. It was the way we shared our conversations so effortlessly, you know? It always stuck with me. We could talk about anything—books, dreams, silly anecdotes from our lives—and it felt so natural, so easy.”

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, and you felt the warmth of his gaze envelop you. “You’re gorgeous, too,” he added, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “And for some reason, I always found myself thinking about you at the most random times. Like, I’d be in class, trying to focus on a lecture, and suddenly, there you were in my mind, laughing at something I said. It caught me off guard how often you crossed my thoughts.”

As he spoke, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, a blend of admiration and something deeper. You couldn’t help but giggle at Yunho’s heartfelt confession, the sincerity of his words striking a chord within you. The sound of your laughter caught his attention, and he raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face.

“Why are you laughing at me?” he whined teasingly, feigning indignation while his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I’m not!” you protested, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you cupped your hand against his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, making it hard to suppress your smile.

“I’ve always liked you, Yunho,” you said, your voice sincere as you locked eyes with him. A smile broke out across his face, and before you could say another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re ours now,” he sighed in relief, his voice muffled as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and it sent a rush of happiness coursing through you.

You giggled at his affectionate gesture, playfully running your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers.

———

The next day arrived more swiftly than you had anticipated, the morning light filtering through your curtains and casting a soft glow across your room. You lay sprawled across your bed, the comforter slightly rumpled beneath you, remnants of a restless night clinging to the sheets.

Turning your head, you glanced at the clock on your nightstand. The bright digits blinked back at you, reading 11:30 a.m. You remembered how late you had stayed up after returning home from the ATZ house, determined to cram in those last-minute assignments so you could enjoy a free weekend without the weight of unfinished homework hanging over your head.

With a resigned sigh, you stretched your arms above your head. You realized that you still hadn’t messaged Jia to ask if she would be attending XIK’s party tonight, and the thought nagged at you.

Reaching for your phone on the bedside table, the screen lit up under your touch as you navigated to your messages.

Y/N: Are you going to XIK’s party tonight?

Jia: Of course i am! hbu?

Y/N: Maybe

Jia: Ooooh this is a first. let’s go! I haven’t seen you in a while. I miss my bestie :(

Y/N: do you? don’t you remember you ditched me at your own party?

Jia: Hehe~ sorryyyyy. Please go! I promise I’ll be with you this time!

Y/N: Hm no need Jiji. I’ll see you at the party later.

Jia: wdym no need?

Jia: hellloooo Y/N??????

Y/N: Nothing I’ll see you later.

You sighed, turning off your phone and letting the silence envelop you for a moment. The quiet of your room was comforting, and you decided to rest your eyes a little longer, allowing the remnants of sleep to linger just a bit more. The soft light streaming through the window painted the walls with gentle hues, creating a serene atmosphere that made it easy to drift.

After a few moments of peace, you finally stirred, shaking off the remnants of drowsiness. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the wooden floor beneath your feet.

You made your way to the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face and running a brush through your hair. As you looked in the mirror, you realized you still hadn’t told the boys that you were planning to attend XIK’s party. In resolution, you decided you’ll surprise them. The thought of their reactions brought a smile to your face.

Not wanting to rush your day, you decided to arrive a few hours later than the given time.

———

You took your time getting ready, savoring the anticipation of the evening ahead. Standing in front of the mirror, you carefully curled your hair, letting the soft waves cascade around your shoulders. You changed into a snug cami top that hugged your figure just right, pairing it with some loose, low-rise jeans that felt both comfortable and effortlessly stylish. After slipping into a pair of shoes, you grabbed your purse, ensuring you had everything you might need for the night. With a final glance in the mirror, you stepped out of your apartment.

The night air was cool against your skin as you walked to the curb where your Uber awaited. You slid into the back seat, giving the driver the address to the XIK house. The drive was short, and as you watched the familiar streets pass by, you felt the energy of the night building within you.

When the car finally came to a stop, you thanked the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Instantly, you were greeted by the thumping bass of music that vibrated through the air, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. As you looked up, you were met with a lively scene: a flock of people gathered in the front yard, their laughter and chatter mingling with the music, creating an atmosphere charged with excitement.

As you stepped into the XIK house, you greeted familiar faces illuminated by the soft glow of string lights. Each step deeper into the house filled you with a rush of excitement, the energy of the gathering palpable.

“Y/N! I was wondering where you were!” a cheerful voice called out, cutting through the lively chatter. You turned to see Jia, her radiant smile brightening the room as she held onto Mina, who stood beside her, equally animated. Without hesitation, Jia rushed over and wrapped you in a warm hug. You laughed, feeling a wave of joy wash over you. Mina handed you a drink—a vibrant concoction that sparkled enticingly under the ambient lights.

“Here, this will kick off your night!” she said with a playful grin. You accepted it with a smile, raising the cup in a toast to friendship before savoring the refreshing flavors.

Shortly after you moved through the house. You scanned the room, your gaze searching for any sign of ATZ. You walked outside to the backyard and see various people sitting in the pavilion and dancing. You shift your gaze to the bar and see a familiar face. You grin and make your way to the bar.

Wooyoung is sitting comfortably as he talks to an old friend. His black hair is slightly gelled on the sides with some strands hanging out and a pair of sunglasses rest above his head. His ridiculously handsome face shifted into a smile as he continues his conversation, not noticing you walking towards him.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked playfully, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Wooyoung turned his head sharply towards you, a smirk instantly forming on his lips as recognition washed over his features. “I’ll catch up with you later, man,” he said, shaking his friend's hand with a friendly nod before the guy walks away, leaving you two alone.

“Hey, baby. I didn’t think you were coming,” Wooyoung said, his tone warm and inviting as he shifted closer, effortlessly hooking an arm around your waist. You could already tell he was buzzed.

“I’m here,” you replied with a soft smile, your heart skipping at his familiar touch.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked, scanning the yard for any sign of the other boys.

“Probably play pool, chatting with friends—they’re somewhere around here,” he chuckled, leaning back slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze lingering as if he was taking in every detail. You felt a flutter of warmth under his attentive gaze, and you couldn't help but playfully fiddle with the loosely buttoned collar of his shirt,

“You look sexy baby” Wooyoung whispered followed by another chuckle.

“You too” you wink playfully at him. Wooyoung bites his lips and taps your waist lightly.

“Come on, let’s go find the rest of the boys” He grabs your hand and walks through the crowd of people with you. Wooyoung led you down to the lower level of the house, where the vibrant energy of the party took on a more relaxed vibe. The space opened up to reveal several pool tables and a dartboard, the soft sounds of laughter and clinking shot glasses blending into a lively symphony. As you scanned the room, your eyes quickly found the rest of your men, huddled together and some engaged in a game of pool.

With a playful grin, Wooyoung whistled sharply, and in an instant, heads turned towards you two. The sight of your familiar faces ignited a wave of warmth within you, their eyes lighting up with recognition and excitement.

“There’s our Sweetheart!” Mingi shouted, his voice booming above the noise. Making your way through the room, you took turns greeting each member and sharing whispered conversations for a while. When you decided to turn your attention to San, you see him perched casually on a stool with a bottle of beer in his hand. His relaxed demeanor radiated charm, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as you approached him.

“Hey, Sannie,” you say nonchalantly.

“Hey, baby,” he replied, a playful smirk on his lips as he took a swig from his bottle.

You tried to ignore the blush that crept into your cheeks, unsure if it was the alcohol coursing through your system or the teasing glimmer in his eyes that made you feel this way. Things between you and San were still awkward. The most you two would share were greetings and occasional teasing banters. Completely ignoring the drink in your hand, you confidently reach towards San’s beer bottle in his hand and take a swig. He raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Don’t get a head of yourself Y/N” San says as he grabs the bottle from your hand, and gets up to play a game of pool.

The night wore on, the atmosphere thick with laughter and music. You found yourself nestled comfortably next to Wooyoung, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, pulling you closer as you both watched the rest of the members play pool. Wooyoung leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered teasing compliments that sent shivers down your spine. Each soft brush of his fingers against your bare skin ignited a wave of heat that coursed through your body. You couldn't help but smile at his antics, feeling the buzz of excitement mix with the effects of the drinks.

After a while, you felt the urge to excuse yourself.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you whispered to Wooyoung, your voice barely above the lively sounds surrounding you. He nodded, a knowing look in his eyes as he took your hand. Together, you made your way back upstairs, and he guides you through the crowd. Wooyoung waited outside the bathroom door, leaning against the wall casually while you slipped inside to relieve yourself.

Once you finished, you opened the door, but before you could step out, Wooyoung suddenly pushed you back inside. You yelped in shock, your heart racing at the unexpected movement. He quickly wrapped you in a tight hug, his laughter filling the small space.

“What are you doing?” you giggled, your cheeks flushing as the buzz of the night intensified the thrill of the moment. The sudden intimacy of the situation made your heart race. Wooyoung held you close, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Just wanted a moment alone with you,” he replied, his tone light yet sincere. He lifts you swiftly and sits you on top of the counter. His hands rest on your hips and your arms wrapped around his neck. There’s a brief silence before you decide to speak.

“Wooyoung…” You say his name softly. His forehead is against yours. He hums in response as his eyes moves to your lips.

“kiss me?” you say in a whisper.

“Fuck Y/N” Wooyoung groans as he takes your lips onto his. The kiss is messy. Both of you fighting for dominance.

Somehow this make-out session sobers you both. His strong hands caress your waist and his soft plush lips devoured yours. His tongue swiped over your lips a few times, resulting in a whimper from you. Wooyoung’s mouth begins to move towards your neck, softly leaving kisses along your collar bone. Your hands are buried in his hair as he continues to mark your neck. You try to hold back a moan… when suddenly you two are interrupted by a loud bang on the door.

“Helloooo?! Other people need to use the bathroom!”

Fuck. You mentally curse to yourself. It’s Jia’s voice.

Wooyoung pulls away from your neck and is about to shout in response for the interruption but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.

“A-Ah Jia! It’s Y/N! Thank god it’s you! I need a sanitary pad! I’ve been stuck in here!” You shout behind the door as you stutter to come up with an excuse. You bite your lip in anticipation, hoping Jia would fall for your bluff.

“Y/N?! Oh my gosh! okay I’ll be right back I have one in my purse” Jia responds and quickly leaves.

In panic you release your hand from Wooyoung’s mouth and jump off from the counter. Wooyoung smirks at you as you begin to push him towards the door.

“You go first I’ll meet you later!” you hastily whisper. Wooyoung chuckles at your flustered state and reaches towards your waist, trying to pull you into another kiss. “Woo please!” you whine pushing him further.

Effortlessly, Wooyoung leans in, capturing your lips in one last heated kiss that sends a rush of warmth through your entire body. Reluctantly, you broke the kiss, your heart racing as you unlocked the bathroom door and gently pushed him out into the hallway. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back against the cool bathroom wall. Your cheeks felt flushed, the heat radiating from them as you patted them lightly, trying to cool down from the lingering effects of heated session.

You glanced at the door, waiting for Jia to arrive, and your mind can’t help but replay the smug look on Wooyoung’s face before he left the bathroom…

End of Chapter 3….

next chapter >>>

-

-

-

-

-

Author’s note: Finally chapter three! sorry I took so long to update! I hope you all enjoyed! thank you again for the huge support! Don’t forget to comment or message me if you’d like to be apart of the tag list!

taglist:

@georgeanabanana @jaytheatiny @mxnsxngie @spenceatiny18 @sanhwalvr @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @joongscheese @therealcuppicake @velvetskize @hongjoongtime117 @jintastic-yuyu @meiguessss @sookacc @starygw3n @dimeb29 @mingtinysworld @pixie0627 @uninterested-ghost @ghostlovesworld @tigerlillytaffy @londonbridges01 @cherryynoir @katykatmeow @laviedemamere @wyrated @hwxbibi @sweetinsaniiity

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?"