#t is a fucking wonder drug

[bingqiv]

honestly great week for gender. got called a gentleman by a customer earlier this week (who was taking about me) and then got called a young fellow this morning.

10/10.

[crimeronan]

Oh no my friend and I wanted to move to Pourtsmouth, what’s wrong with NH? Where on the east coast would you recommend instead?

oh honestly portsmouth is fine, it's a lovely town on the seacoast and it has a lot of my favorite things about new hampshire like prescott park and the seacoast repertory theater! like if you asked me for the best place to live within new hampshire i'd tell you portsmouth immediately. (it IS pricey bc it's a seacoast area, but not as pricey as, like, rye NH.)

i come from rural new hampshire which imo is a different beast entirely. the main problem is that the state government is INTENSELY libertarian. it's the most libertarian state in the US with regards to taxes and social policies. afaik it's the only state in the US with no seat belt law and may be the only one with no helmet law for motorcyclists.

people there are either loyal to bernie sanders or donald trump, and when sanders didn't win the democratic nomination in 2016, a LOT of new hampshire sanders supporters switched to trump instead. because the only thing they care about is anti-establishment disruption. not any actual political issues.

classist divides are also very pronounced because new hampshire has two main social classes: wealthy people, who live there for 2 to 3 seasons a year n spend the colder months elsewhere, and poor people, who live there full-time.

like, my hometown is where bridgit mendler's lake house is, and she comes into the one popular local restaurant there all the time and is super sweet and tips really well, she's Loved by everyone there.

but my hometown is ALSO where a lot of very very very poor hicks live and die in complete misery, because you can't get to a doctor without driving for a half hour, you can't access specialists without crossing state lines into boston, there's very little income security, most people are farmers or loggers who aren't paid well at all. alcoholism and opioid abuse are not only rampant but basically just expected, because everyone is in physical pain, the winters are long, financial burdens are shit, depression is rampant, and there's not a lot to do besides work.

and of course. it's the only red state in new england. our governors are invariably more reasonable socially than a LOT of republican governors, because libertarians believe government shouldn't control people's social lives, and overt nazi extremism is unpopular. but the governors are still...... not good.

all of this said: BECAUSE the state government is so libertarian, your experience of new hampshire is EXCLUSIVELY whatever your local government does. like, even more than in other states. portsmouth's local government is fairly progressive, or at least it was when i moved out. the people there are friendly, and it's an actual city with decent infrastructure and medical care, unlike where i grew up.

and if you don't like the culture, it's pretty easy to drive somewhere else, what with portsmouth being so close to both the maine and massachusetts state lines.

[leaving-fragments]

i cannot get over how empty being admired feels. would never want to be famous, i'd just implode from lack of actual connection i think

[moonlight-prose]

hi! i recently read the grave of lust and fr stared at the wall after to process it because holy shit. the way you write logan is impeccable & beautiful. old man logan deserves so much more love, like he’s so FINE. that being said! i saw your requests were open for logan 👀 i have this hc that old man logan especially would be really into dry humping…& i’d love to read your take on that in a little drabble or whatever you’re up for!

SLOW

note: thank you darling!! i don't know what it is about that old man that makes me want to jump on him. and when he wears his glasses? i'm done for. sign me up for being his whore - IMMEDIATELY. also it's a drabble, but also i couldn't stop myself from adding that gif.

word count: 0.8k

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, dry humping, old man logan who takes it slow in life, aching bones, sweat, again he's filthier when he's older.

He eases you through it. Each kiss soft and languid—his hands a heavy press against the meat of your hips. A long day spent outside left the both of you withered by the scorching heat of the sun. The weariness lingered on your bones, wringing you free of what little energy you managed to hold onto.

"We gotta shower baby," he mumbles, his words a soft puff of air on your cheek.

Sweat still clings to the back of your neck, sticky and warm. And Logan bets if he drags his tongue along your throat he could taste the salt directly off your skin. The sweetness of it, a drug he couldn't resist.

The many times you claimed to like him like this—sweaty and hot from a day's work—he laughed. Just another sugar coated jumble of words to make him smile, to give him something to be happy about. He started to believe you the second you clambered into his lap, sitting pretty and soft on his thick thighs. Fingers now a tight latch in his hair as he shifted you closer.

"Not yet," you whisper.

His argument is on the tip of his tongue—ready to release with a tap to your ass. Your hips dragging heavy along his cuts him off from every saying the words. The groan that rips from his chest is loud. Unhinged and desperate. And you smile into his skin knowing you have him right where you want him.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me one day."

"You're not dead yet old man."

He grunts, fingers a deep dig into your hips, and drags you across his lap again. There's no denying the delicious ache that begins to tug at his body at the feeling of you grinding on his growing cock. You whimper in his neck and tug at the back of his hair and Logan yearns to keep you right there for the rest of the fucking day.

Fuck taking a shower. He's only getting messy the second your own and naked for him to play with.

"Think you can cum for me bub?"

Working your hips over him in quick thrusts causes your legs to stutter, muscles pulling tight with al scream of protest. The soft heat of a building release teases at your cunt. A rhythmic pulse each time your jeans catch perfectly against your clit—his body strong and hard beneath you.

You wonder if he's leaking into his jeans. If his cock is that exquisite color of deep red that led right along the thick vein you could practically taste.

The sharp groan echoes in the small living room, his chest rumbling beneath you with each quick panted breath. Your lips find their way back to his in a wet and sloppy kiss you feel down to your toes. His tongue is a hot press inside your mouth—hips jerking up to meet you with each thrust.

Until you can no longer deny that you're about to cum right fucking now and you want him to do the same. Biting down on his lip, you suck it into your mouth as he fucks up into you like the clothes no longer exist. The barriers disappear, his touch isn't clutched into your t-shirt and yours isn't lost in his white beater. You can practically feel his cock plunge into your soaked cunt.

The thought leaves you panting, begging for more.

"I'm gonna–"

"I know," he growls, his hips a rapid drag along yours. "Let go, yeah? I'll fuck ya right after this."

His cock jolts in his jeans and that does it. You're moaning into his mouth, clamping tight around nothing, and trembling on his lap as if he'd just fucked your second, third, and fourth orgasm from you. It's debilitating how that sucks everything out of you. How muscles you didn't know were real now shouted at you in pain.

You pull back fast enough to see his eyes fall shut, lips parting in a hoarse shout as he grinds his hips up into you one last time. Spurting directly into the denim he'd have to chuck in the wash minutes after this.

The sigh he lets out is heavy. All the energy he had left to get in the shower, now withers into the couch cushions. And if he was a younger man, he'd fuck you on them minutes after this. He'd peel the clothes off your sweaty body and lick the mess between your thighs clean.

He'll be lucky if he can open his eyes to see you though.

"Nap?" you ask softly, head burrowing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. A place solely meant for you.

"Mm." He sighs again, hands sliding up your back. "Shower."

"Logan–"

"Then a nap."

The laugh you muffle against the skin of his shoulder is answer enough for him.

[rinhaler]

just had the crazy thought in the middle of trader joes🫣 bf!ino begging reader to let sukuna fuck her infront of him😵‍💫 i just know sukuna would agree to the idea so fast😭

but anyways i hope you're doing alright❤️

as soon as I read this request I went feral btw I haven't written anything this quickly in a while KGHJFLSGHSKA thank you so much for this nonnie I hope u enjoy and I hope ur doing well 💕

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), cucking, cuck!ino, coercion, dry humping, male masturbation, daddy!kink, oral m+f receiving, head pushing, fingering, calls your pussy 'she', overstimulation, vaginal sex, hair pulling, creampie, squirting.

words: 3.9k

He’s waiting.

He’s been waiting since he got to your apartment.

You and Takuma have never been coy around each other, no matter who’s around. What was meant to be a chill movie night with a few drinks and some weed has really just been you and him making out on the couch, dizzied by the alcohol and drugs coursing through your system.

And still, Sukuna has been waiting.

Waiting for his friend to ask what he’s been waiting to ask.

“I love you…” you whisper, or at least you think you do. It’s louder than intended. What was meant to be breathy love language reserved solely for your partner has garnered Sukuna’s attention, too.

And rather than your boyfriend returning your words. He looks at you, no, through you. His pink haired friend looks at him coldly out of the corner of his eye.

Waiting.

You’re bold, though. When he doesn’t speak right away, you grab his face and pinch his cheeks until his lips are puckering. His warm brown eyes gaze down at you, his concentration fully broken from Sukuna, now.

“I said: I love you, Takuma.” you repeat.

“Baby…” he grins and bites his lip before kissing you softly. “You know I love you too.” he assures you, his head lowering to kiss along your jawline. You can’t repress the gentle moan you emit as you feel his hand travel up your baggy t-shirt and hold your side just below your breast, his thumb stroking across your ribs.

“How much?” you wonder, eyes heavy and bloodshot as you wait for a response. He looks at you again, a little puzzled that you’d even ask.

“How much?” he quirks his brow. “How much do you love me, baby? Tell me… Wanna hear ya,” he smirks.

“More than anything… I’d do anything for you, Takuma. I love you s’much.” you say slowly, pridefully. Adoration interspersed with your casual tone makes his cock throb. His eyes are full as he hears you tell him with ease how much you love him.

Before he can say anything, though, Ino’s eyes stray at the sound of his friend stirring in his spot on the couch. He’s hunched over, lighter in one hand and spliff in the other. He lights it, almost too quickly, and he’s soon leaning back again. His red eyes stare daggers at Ino, his expression is unreadable, but Ino knows the intent behind his glare.

He's waiting, but he’s losing patience.

“Maybe we should go to bed early.” you hint to your boyfriend, wiggling your eyebrows at him in hopes he’ll understand your meaning.

He does.

But instead of looking excited, or interested, he looks between you and your friend. Sukuna exhales a hearty plume of smoke into the air, resting the crown of his head back onto the couch as he stares at the ceiling. The movie is of no interest to any of you, now. You want some alone time with Takuma, and Sukuna is considering leaving.

“W-Wait,” he mutters, cupping your face with both hands and searching your loving gaze. “Anything, really? You mean it?”

“… Well… yeah. I- I guess, yeah. Is something wrong?” you wonder, worry and paranoia flooding through you before you know it. You can feel your heart beginning to beat faster, until his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks. You’re instantly soothed, and further relaxed when you feel a gentle press of your boyfriend’s lips against your own.

“No, baby, nothin’. You’re perfect. You’re always so perfect f’me…” he says, kindly, and you can’t stop the cheesy grin that works its way across your face when you hear him. You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away suddenly. “There’s… something… I wanna do. Well, I wanna try.” he explains.

You sit up a little as you look at him, curiosity filling you. You briefly look at Sukuna, almost forgetting he's there until you hear him toss his lighter onto the coffee table.

“If you wanna fuck tonight. Maybe we can try it now…” he starts, sheepishly. His words become dry in his throat and lost in the atmosphere. You’re a little embarrassed that he’s proposing something about your sex life in front of your mutual friend, but you try and ignore his presence. You’re all high, it doesn’t really matter.

“What is it, baby?” you whisper. You close the distance between the two of you, kissing his cheek repeatedly as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a passionate bid to give him the confidence he needs to tell you what’s on his mind.

There’s no delicate way for him to ask you what he wants to ask. It’s so perverse, so lewd and debauched. He feels guilty for even thinking it. But it’s rotting his brain.

He keeps breathing, his words dissipating on his tongue as he finds and loses the ability to say what’s he’s dying to say.

“C’mon, baby… you can tell me.” you smile. You start to get nervous again as you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts. You have no idea what he could be thinking. It’s a worry, though, thinking your boyfriend has some depraved kink he’s about to spill in front of you as well as his friend.

Why is he doing this now?

“I um… fuck. I— babe, I just. I think it would be… f-fun. Uhhhh…”

“Ask her already.” a dark growl reverberates through your body as you’re once again reminded you aren’t alone. Sukuna stands to his feet, bending down to stub out his joint before he moves behind you. You gasp as you feel his fingers on your jaw forcing your head in place as he keeps your eyes on Takuma’s. “Look at your girl and ask her your dirty favour, pussy.”

Ino gulps, eyes flitting between yours and his. And still, even now, he can’t bring himself to ask. Sukuna gives him time. Plenty of time, before ultimately scoffing. You whimper a little as your head jerks to face him. His hand squeezes your face, not to dissimilarly to what you had done to Takuma moments prior. Your lips puckering as he levels his face with your own.

“He has a weird fetish, princess. He wants to see another man fuck the love of his life. Ain’t that strange?” he smirks, darkly.

You think you’ve misheard him. He lets go of your face and you snap your gaze to see Ino. He’s blushing furiously and has seemingly lost the ability to speak. He can barely even look at you. And that is enough proof, but still.

“Really?” you ask, you try your best to stay calm. It’s a little stern, but casual enough to not seem like a big deal.

“… Y-Yeah. AGH!” he yells as your hand slaps across his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. He looks at you, he seemed ready to yell at you until he sees tears welling in your eyes. “B-Baby? Don’t… Don’t hate me, please. I—”

“You— did you invite him here tonight for this? You told him before me… How—”

“Wait, wait. It wasn’t like that!” he stops you. “We were just, ugh, what was it? Oh, porn! We were talking about different categories and I said I’d been watching some, y’know, cuck shit. S’dumb, I’m so sorry. But I just watched it because I was curious and then I started thinking about it everyday and I thought about us trying it ‘n I just said all that shit to him when I was stoned.”

“So?” you respond. “You invited him over ‘n got me drunk and high ‘n thought I’d just say yes?!”

“No. Well… maybe… a little…” he says, voice trailing off as he thinks about the whole thing a little further. “Shit, I was scared to ask. Because it’s fucking weird and I know it’s weird. I feel like a fucking freak for this, baby. What kinda guy wants to see another dude fuck his girl? It’s weird.”

You don’t speak again for a while, letting him simmer in what he’s saying. It’s not that you are outwardly against it, but you’re not intoxicated enough to ignore how wrongly he went about this. And it’s hard to ignore Sukuna’s looming figure beside you, he’s so intimidating without even trying.

“… Please don’t hate me.” he mumbles as he stares down at his feet. “It’s been driving me crazy, y’know. Thinking about how hot you’d look like that.”

“It’s your decision.” Sukuna says, dropping to the balls of his feet to look at you again. “It’s just sex, sweetheart. I can make you feel good, ‘n you’ll make me feel good. And I think it’ll make that perverted boyfriend of yours feel good, too.”

You look into his eyes as he speaks. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before. He’s a giant, he’s huge and he has the aura of a man who knows how to fuck. You aren’t dissatisfied in your sex life with Takuma in the least. But everyone has fantasies, right? Everyone has thoughts on what they might be missing out on.

“B-Baby? Please. Just once, I just wanna try it once.” Takuma tells you. It’s a little pathetic how desperate he sounds. And for some twisted reason, it turns you on. How he’s begging to see you receive pleasure at the hands of another man.

You’ve somehow managed to romanticise this depravity. Because now, you feel good about this. Whether intentional or not, Takuma Ino has made you feel like a goddess.

And so, dumbly, you find yourself nodding. His eyes light up, confusion, elation, and unadulterated lust flows through him. You’re caught off guard as Sukuna cups your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before grabbing under the bend of your knee and letting it roam up the back of your thigh.

“N-Now?!” you ask in a panic, breaking the kiss before he returns it once more.

“Yes. Now.” Sukuna tells you, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch he had been sitting on. You’re straddling him, rolling your hips unashamedly as he smirks into your kiss. “You’re soaked, princess.” he says. It’s quiet, but loud enough for Ino to hear.

He palms himself over his sweats as he watches you both, a sultry moan leaves you as you feel rough hands squeeze the fat of your tits over your t-shirt. He tugs at your nipple, licking into your mouth as he pulls away.

“Suck daddy’s cock, baby. Heard you’re a pro.” he grins.

You shuffle off of his lap and between his legs. He goes to undo his belt before you beat him to sit. He interlocks his fingers behind his head as he watches you. He swears if he had blinked he would have missed how quickly you freed his length. Your eyes bulge as it springs out from it’s denim prison and you pull down his jeans and underwear in tandem.

He doesn’t give you any time to marvel at his gargantuan size before he’s lacing his fingers through your hair and guiding his cock to your lips. He’s massive, you feel it as each agonising inch sinks into your mouth and nudges at the back of your throat.

He moans boisterously as you struggle to accommodate him, head rolling back as he looks up at the ceiling above. He chuckles, pushing your head again and again to set a pace for himself, barely considering your lung capacity or pleasure in the least.

His eyes are heavy, lust drunk and purposeful as he looks down at you. Your own are watery and pathetic. You’re overwhelmed and yet you can’t help but chase a desperate desire to please him. You want to impress him, you want him to feel good.

You’re both reminded of your actual boyfriend’s presence when he moans pathetically. Your teeth graze Sukuna’s cock and he hisses at the sensation.

“Focus on me.” he tells you, voice gravelly and intimidating before his eyes move to look at Ino. “Are you really getting off on this? Fucking pervert. Your girlfriend’s choking on my cock and you look like you’re gonna blow your load. Y’think that’s normal?”

“S-Shut up.” he moans softly, the all too familiar sound of sticky, aroused skin fapping fills the room.

You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second. The intense knowledge of everything going on in the room is sending your self esteem into overdrive. You’re doing it for Takuma. And you want to make Sukuna proud.

“Here…” Sukuna grabs his phone. You panic as you see him point it down at you, unwillingly to let him keep video evidence of this twisted transgression. He holds your head down with ease with his free hand, and it’s all you can do to focus on breathing through your nose. You begin to calm as you feel another phone ring behind you. “Answer.” Sukuna instructs.

Ino scrambles to answer the incoming call, moaning further when he sees the perfect first person view of your mouth stuffed full of his best friend’s dick.

“Give him a show baby, he likes it.” Sukuna growls, cupping the crown of your head as he allows you to bob your head at your own pace. “You really are a good little cocksucker. Might have to keep you. Doesn’t she look pretty, Ino?”

“S-So pretty, baby. Fuck, look at ya…” he breathes, slowing down on his own pleasure so he doesn’t cum too fast.

“Look at her squirming, think she’s enjoying all the attention. Is your little pussy dripping ‘cause you’re our pretty star tonight?” he smirks. And at that, you nod. You can’t help yourself. Despite you being the one to please him, you’re completely at his mercy. “Mmm, think I wanna see for myself.” he tells you, yanking you away from his length by your roots.

You gasp, breathless with an aching jaw as you get used to your mouth being your own again. He coos at you, red eyes softening as he admires your drool soaked face.

“Look at what I’ve done to your girl.” Sukuna says as he manhandles you.

He picks you up and turns you so that you’re able to make eye contact with your boyfriend. Ino looks up from his phone so he can observe you with his own eyes. Your eye makeup has streaked beautifully down your cheeks. Your lips are swollen and dampened with slick drool and precum. He has to stop touching himself completely when he looks into your shimmering eyes. They’re filled with water and emotion, the sight of you is better than he ever imagined.

“Say thank you, sweetheart.” Sukuna commands and he firmly grips your jaw. “Gotta say thank you to your boyfriend for letting you have the time of your life with me.”

“T-Thank you, Takuma… thank you.”

“Aw… you’re both a little pathetic, hm? But that’s okay.” Sukuna snarls as he picks you up again, tossing you onto the couch like you’re nothing. You’re a weightless object for him to do with as he pleases. “Let me see you, princess. I want a taste.” he explains. Soon enough, your panties and shorts disappear from your body and he’s face to face with your bare cunt.

He grabs your hand, forcefully shoving his phone into it so you can show your boyfriend what he’s doing.

It’s humiliating.

Your whole body runs hot as he loops his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs. A powerful moan rips through you as he gently pulls up the hood of your clit and targets it with a darted tongue.

Tears spill over your eyes as you try to close your legs, much to his dismay, and he pries them apart with ease. He doesn’t let up, your whole body trembling uncontrollably as he continues his assault.

You hold the phone with one hand as the other cards through his pretty pink locks. And at that, he moans. The timbre of his voice vibrates against your skin.

“B-Baby?” Ino speaks, quietly, “Feel good?”

“Fucking. Amazing.” you announce, unashamedly. Your toes curl as you feel two thick fingers delve into your hot cunt. It’s too much. You feel like you might burst as his fingers curl and you try desperately to escape the onslaught. But one muscular bicep around your thigh is more than enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.” he tells you casually before looking up at you. “You won’t cum if you run away from me.”

“Hnnnng, fuck.” you respond, embarrassingly. All semblance of thought leaves you in the form of slippery slick pooling out of your cunt as he finger fucks you relentlessly. He smirks as he watches, slurping up your juices with obscene satisfaction.

“Pretty little pussy, she’s flutterin’ for me. Just cum for daddy, know you wanna.” he grins.

You’re barely able to think as he immediately swipes his tongue over your throbbing clit. His fingers work in tandem to hammer against your g-spot before you begin to squirm uncontrollably.

“Fu- nngh! D-Daddy! Haah~!” you cry out repeatedly, chanting a slew of daddy’s before you feel your body start to crumble and fall slack. You pant heavily, the phone you were holding a distant memory as the only thing on Ino’s screen is a shot of the ceiling.

He’s holding back, again. Ogling your body as he sees sweat droplets beading on your skin. Your entire body is relaxed, calm. You’re wholly spent and satisfied for the evening, you do nought but watch Sukuna repeatedly pepper kisses on your inner thighs.

“You look happy,” he tells you as he looks up.

“You’re… you’re good at that…” you say, finally feeling shame wash over you as you realise you just came on your boyfriend’s best friend’s face. “That was—”

“Was? Didn’t say we’re done, baby.” he cuts you off. Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling you onto the ground with him by your wrist. “I didn’t get to cum yet, did you really think we were through here?”

“S-Shit, sorry!” you gasp, utterly powerless as he bends you over the coffee table. Even if your body wasn’t so relaxed, you’d still be a ragdoll to him.

“He needs to see your face while I ruin this beautiful cunt.” he smirks, parting your legs with his muscular thigh. He tuts as he observes your form, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “What is this, baby? I know no one else has made you cum that hard but you need to look pretty when you have an audience.” he explains.

He pulls your hair aggressively until your back is in a beautiful arch. Your fingers grip desperately onto the sides of the coffee table, your tits squashed against the cool glass breaks your body temperature as you’re unsure of whether you’re freezing cold or boiling hot.

Your body soon flushes again as you feel Sukuna guide his heavy tip to your entrance. He teases your hole repeatedly, the sticky tacking sound is the only thing that can be heard; alongside Ino’s self-pleasure.

He grunts as he slams into you with a powerful thrust. Your eyes cross and you feel as though you could pass out from the pressure brewing in your core.

“Fuuuuuuck, tiny princess cunt’s a tight li’l hugger.” he tells you before holding onto your hips with a bruising grip. Your ass and thighs ripple with each brutal deliverance from his desperate humping.

This, now, isn’t for you. If you feel pleasure, that is a bonus. You feel it in the way he savagely pounds into your wet walls, you are his toy that is designed to make him cum.

“You look so pretty, babe. D-Does it feel good? Y’look so fucked out.” Ino smirks, biting his lip as his fist becomes a blur. “Can you— describe it for me, baby.” he requests.

“Unfff, f-fuck. He’s— I feel— him— here.” you tell him before pointing to your throat. He lets out a guttural moan at that, and if your mind wasn’t already so hazy, you’d be amazed that he was truly getting off on this.

“Glad he’s making you feel s’good, babe. Knew he would…” he trails off. “Are you gonna let him fill you up?” he asks, face dropping a little as he hears a scoff from Sukuna.

“Tch. Sick bastard.” he says in response. He bends over, his sweat coated skin presses into your back and he continues to desperately hump into you like a primal animal. He moves your hair aside as he sensually bites and kisses your earlobe. You could just about cum when you feel him lick the skin behind your ear, tangled with an amalgamation of eager, determined moans. “He wants me to breed you like an animal. Would ya like that, princess? Can daddy fill your precious little pussy up?”

You nod, quickly. Your vision blurry as you think you might be genuinely about to pass out from the pleasure. You’re utterly blinded by it. The feeling of his cock bullying itself into you and repeatedly kissing your sweet spot is like no other feeling you’ve experienced before.

And still, even in your cock drunk mind, you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever be able to live without feeling him inside of you again.

He pulls your body up with his own, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to keep you barely conscious. You’re pointlessly grabbing for anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. His free hand rubs your clit vigorously, and you know you’re soon to be a goner.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, milk daddy’s cock jus’ like that. Juuus’ like that. So tight f’me, mmmpf, so fucking tight for me. Perfect pussy’s not gonna let me go. Gonna cum with me, yeah? Come on, cum on daddy’s cock, make a big mess. Umpf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He practically roars, feeling not an ounce of shame as he fucks his thick, heavy load into you. You’re no better, though, whining pathetically as a waterfall gushes from between your legs for the first time in your life. It arouses Ino more than anything ever has in his entire life, so at that, he finally let’s go. Coating his hand in shimmering white globs as he watches Sukuna forcefully make out with you through your high.

Sukuna pulls you back with him as he sits on the couch with you on his lap, pulling out of your hot, sullied cunt as the mixture of clear liquid and pearlescent sperm drips from your throbbing hole. He slaps his cock against your clit, your entire body jolting with each repeated smack.

“Did you— fuck, baby, that was perfect… Did you have fun?” Ino asks, almost breathlessly as he wipes the mess from his hand on his sweatpants.

Sukuna looks up at your near lifeless body, you don’t even have the energy to look at either of them let alone speak. He smirks, at that, before turning his attention to Ino.

“Don’t think she’s ever been fucked so good in her life,” Sukuna grins. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a girlfriend for much longer.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[coryndoll]

erase me

exboyfriend!rafe cameron x exgirlfriend!reader

— “ and i wonder who will erase me? ”

content: unhealthy relationship post-breakup, hookups, sexual themes, drinking, toxic cycles, SMALL ONE-SHOT idc

authors note: “erase me” by lizzy mcalpine has been my hyper fixation song lately n i was just watching the music video when i thought to myself huh. this would so fit with rafes character !

his lips are soft against your skin, pulling slowly away just to dive in again. he’s savoring every noise, every taste, every sight, every part of you.

his back is bare, freckles scattered across the ivory that you’ve thought about tracing once or twice before, only if you ever stuck around long enough.

his fingers curl inside you, erupting a reaction that he chases after. you’re like a drug to him. his tongue grinds—swirling, flicking, teasing. he’s giving his all to you. to please you. to make you feel like you never have before.

but there’s just something off.

you lower your chin to look at him through heavy lids. his forehead is licked with sweat, cheeks soft red but his lips swollen from working on you. the realisation comes faster than you do.

for the past eighteen minutes you have not had a present bone in your body. he started eighteen minutes ago, and not once have you released yet, or felt like you wanted to.

it’s almost embarrassing, needless to say more for him and less for you, but you can still feel second-hand. your mind can wander but it doesn’t stray from the fact that he can’t give you what you need. but you know who can.

just as you look closer, he’s pulling himself off of you to flip you onto your stomach so he can fuck you. it’s raw, and he slips his cock inside of you easily—it’s just better than whatever the hell he was doing before.

his hips snap brutally against your own, his chest pressed against your back as he curves his hand around your throat, applying pressure. there.

that’s when you feel it. not him, but that familiar sense. a warmth you know all too well. you’ve been tossed, turned, flipped, thrown, all for the pleasure of a man. here, it’s no different.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, and all you can think about is him again. his grunts in your ear, encouraging you to keep holding yourself up so he can murmur how pathetic you are so that the praises hit better. you’d rather feel the tip of his cock finding your g-spot over and over again until you string out a moan, barely comprehensible but you know that he can make out his own name from your lips.

rafe.

you wanna say it again—rafe. but it’s fine. right here is fine. this guy’s fucking you in his bed. he’s surely some eye candy, and he’s been gentle with you all night. the sex can be rough though, and maybe that’s what you need.

still, something stirs in you, and you know that it’s not what you want.

you wake up to the pale yellow light filtering through unfamiliar blinds. the room is silent, save for the soft breathing of the guy beside you. he’s sprawled out, dead asleep, dark hair ruffled, face turned away. you don’t even remember his name—just that he’s neighbors with your friend who hosted the party last night.

your head throbs, a steady, unforgiving ache that pulses behind your eyes, and the sour taste of rum still lingers on your tongue. you shift slightly, feeling the rough fabric of his sheets against your bare skin, and suddenly, an emptiness sinks in, heavy and suffocating. you’re barely dressed, just his oversized t-shirt clinging to you like a ghost of whatever last night was supposed to mean.

you stare blankly ahead, your head propped on a pillow, but your body turns away from him, toward the edge of the bed. your arm dangles off the side, fingertips brushing the floor. it’s ironic, how last night’s distraction becomes this morning’s reminder of how desperate you are to erase him—rafe.

you stay like that for a moment, unmoving, letting the sting of it seep in. the room smells like cologne and stale alcohol. he’s nice enough, you think vaguely. kind eyes, a smile that had been warm just last night.

but now, it’s empty. meaningless.

you push yourself up slowly, carefully, so you don’t wake him. your fingers shake a little as you pull on your clothes from the night before, you don’t bother with anything else. you move quietly as you gather your shoes and slip them on, not daring to glance back.

when you step out into the early morning air, the street is quiet, the world still practically waking up. rafe’s name pounds in your head with each step you take.

your hand shakes as you pull your phone from your pocket, staring at his name in your contact list. you shouldn’t call him. you know that. but the ache, the gnawing desperation to hear something from him, is too much to resist. your thumb hovers for a second too long, then you press the call button before you can think better of it.

it rings. once. twice. you almost hope he doesn’t pick up, that you can hang up and convince yourself you were just being stupid. but then the line clicks, and his voice cuts through, sharp and unforgiving.

“what?” his voice is rough, low, the way it gets when he’s been up all night. you can picture him now, jaw tight, blue eyes dark and narrowed. your pulse quickens.

you swallow, suddenly dry-mouthed. “rafe,” you mumble. “hey.”

“are you serious right now?” he snaps, and you can hear the rustle of sheets, like he’s sitting up. “don’t call me, y/n. i don’t want to hear your voice.”

the words sting, but they don’t stop you. they never do. you almost smile, that twisted, sick part of you that craves this, the heat of his anger, the way it matches the storm in your chest.

“why not?” your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, a little rasp from sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol. “you sound wide awake for someone who doesn’t wanna talk.”

there’s a pause, just long enough for you to think he might hang up, but then his voice comes back, clearer, like he’s got the mic pressed right against his mouth. “you’re unbelievable—‘hear me? un-believable. you leave that party with some random guy and then you call me? is this some kind of game to you?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted. it was exactly like that. your shame burns hotter under rafe’s scalding words.

“no? then what is it, hmph? because lately, all you’ve done is show me just how fast you can try to replace me,” he spits, voice laced with something that sounds dangerously close to hurt.

your grip on the phone tightens, nails digging into your palm. “it’s not like you’re innocent,” you say, the words barely a whisper. it’s pathetic, you know it is, but it’s all you have.

“don’t turn this around on me,” he snaps. “yeah, i know what you’re trying to do, running off with random guys like it’s supposed to mean something. you think i don’t hear about it? but you call me? after all of this, you still call me?”

his voice cracks at the end, barely perceptible, and that tiny break twists something in your chest. you press your lips together, trying not to let him hear the way your breath shakes despite your smile.

“rafe—”

“no,” he interrupts, hard, a finality to it that hits you like a slap. “don’t call me again.”

the line goes dead, and for a moment, you just stand there, staring at the phone in your hand. you feel some strange, hollow satisfaction just from hearing his voice, hearing him angry, hearing him give a fuck, even if it’s in the worst way.

a bitter smile tugs at your lips, but it fades just as fast, leaving a dull ache in its place. your teeth graze your bottom lip, the embarrassment settling in, thick and heavy. what were you even hoping to get out of that?

you shove your phone back into your pocket, the regret sinking in as you start to walk.

the music pulses through the room. you dance, eyes closed, while two faces are close, dancing around you, their hands lightly grazing your hips, steadying you as you sway. you can feel the warmth of their laughter and the faint pull of their fingers, but your mind is elsewhere. you’re not thinking about them. you’re not even thinking about yourself. you’re thinking about him.

rafe stands across the room, one hand gripping a cup. his jaw is tight, eyes narrowed as he watches you from a distance.

he notices everything. the way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the curve of your lips when you laugh at something someone whispers in your ear, the way your body responds, a subtle roll of your hips, when the beat drops. it’s infuriating.

you’re so far away, yet every move you make drags him closer to the edge. he hates it. hates that you’re pretending not to see him. hates that you’re acting like this—so carefree, so untethered, so far from the girl he remembers.

someone bumps into you, hard enough that you stumble slightly. rafe’s grip on his drink tightens, the glass groaning under the strain of his fingers. but then he sees it—how you turn and smile, an easy, genuine smile, and apologize to the stranger as if the fault was yours.

not even a hint of annoyance, not a trace of the sharpness he knows you have when provoked.

he watches, feeling the burn of it—how can you be so good, so kind, yet crave the venom he’s always fed you?

do they know you called him this morning just to hear him snap at you, that you needed the sound of him furious just to feel close? he doesn’t think so, but he’s in awe, and it makes him hate you, hate himself.

how do you still do this to him?

the trance is broken when sofia appears, slipping from the hallway with a playful smile. she says something—something about the line for the bathroom being longer than ever, that everyone’s probably considering the ocean instead.

he smiles, nodding as he pulls her in, an arm draped around her shoulders. the shift in his attention is deliberate, as if trying to convince himself he doesn’t care. as if touching someone else, being close to someone else, could drown out the low hum of you in his veins.

and that’s when you open your eyes, half-lidded and hazy, the world coming into focus with a few blinks. you glance around, a soft smile still curving your lips, until your gaze lands on them.

there’s no hiding the small, faint frown that pulls at your mouth. it’s barely there, but still is. you watch rafe let her take his drink, her fingers brushing his as she sips. your eyes flick down, betraying you for a moment as you take in their closeness, and then, just like that, you look away.

there’s a sting behind your eyes, but it’s not strong enough to stop you. you press your lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply as you turn back to the crowd. you don’t pause before reaching for the hand of a guy nearby, someone whose name you won’t remember tomorrow. again.

you lace your fingers through his and pull him with you, stepping through the bodies and toward the stairs. he watches, his mouth set in a thin line, but he doesn’t move. he just watches you walk away.

it all twists something inside you, bitter and raw, but you keep walking. maybe you and rafe are both pretending it’s over, trying to find where you begin without each other. at least you know now who’s painting over the last parts of you.

erasing you.

a/n: wanted to just leave it here and kind of quickly depict toxic cycles & the two POVs 😭 bc yea they are so NOT over each other

tags: @iiszaa @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic — 3/3

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

wc: 3k | rating: T | cw: head trauma, brain injury talk | a special thank you to @dame-zoom-a-lot for betaing! <3

The days following Steve’s Houdini act are fuckin’ tense, to say the least.

Eddie had messed up. Royally.

He could’ve sworn that when Steve took off, he’d ducked into the Recovery Center, y’know, the place he was supposed to go! If Eddie had known Steve took a detour and missed the building entirely, Eddie would’ve ran a lot fucking faster than he had. Especially after…

Well, no point in shying away from it anymore; after Steve confessed his love for him.

And how did Eddie return the favor? By being a total bone head and losing Steve for the entire goddamn day! Not to mention a good chunk of the night. Jesus… It’s no wonder Robin’s still sore.

Now, in Eddie’s flimsy defense, Steve had thrown him for one hell of a loop. One that Eddie was still seeing double from. He’s still having trouble wrapping his head around what he’d heard; Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, King of Hawkins High, being into Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson, the drug-dealing ne’er do well hailing from the Forest Hills trailer park. Forgive him for finding the threads a little difficult to tie together! He’s not exactly Steve’s usual fare.

But it had happened.

Things have fundamentally, metaphysically, allegorically and subatomically shifted between the two of them—there’s no getting away from that, no matter how long they try and dance around this.

Steve said he loved Eddie. Love.

That isn’t something you just move on from. At least, it isn’t something Eddie can move on from. Especially when he didn’t even get to say his piece!

The trouble is that Robin’s in all-out guard dog mode with Steve, keeping Eddie at arm's length even after a whole goddamn week goes by. Sure, she’d accepted his apology (albeit begrudgingly), but she isn’t exactly keen on letting Steve out of the house without her by his side—much less with Eddie. It would be kind of heartwarming if it weren’t so goddamn annoying.

Steve isn’t some damsel locked away in a tower, and Eddie wasn’t some knight in shining armor, planning to scale the side of a stone tower to avoid the sleeping, fire-breathing dragon…

But as Eddie stares up at the fire escape attached to the side of Steve and Robin’s brick apartment building… he'd be lying if he said he didn’t sort of feel a little shiny.

Part of Eddie can’t believe it’s really come to this, but… he just can’t stand the idea of wasting another goddamn night tossing and turning, going over and over Steve’s words in his mind. Thinking about the way Steve’s hand felt in his, the way his eyes went all soft when he told Eddie he—he loved him…

Jesus H. Christ, this is way beyond his skill set—he’s way out of fucking league here, but there’s nothing for it. Eddie needs to settle this, once and for all.

So, he takes his bandana from the back pocket of his jeans and presses the flat of it to his forehead while his hands make a tight knot in the back. He zips his leather jacket as high as it’ll go and gives his hands a shake to try and get the jitters out.

It’s not exactly a helmet and plates of armor, but it’ll have to do. Eddie takes a breath, steels himself, then climbs on top of a precariously stacked pile of milk crates that he’d crafted and leaps for the steel ladder. As soon as his feet leave the plastic tower, it collapses under him, clattering to the ground. Eddie knows he shouldn’t look back, but he sneaks a peak over his shoulder and… yep. He really shouldn’t’ve looked. He’s not that high up, but it’s enough that if he falls, he’d be feeling it tomorrow. Might even bust an ankle if he landed wrong.

He turns back to the task at hand; getting to Steve.

There’s a terrifying moment where he’s not sure if he can pull himself up, but somehow, he finds the strength to do just that. If only Coach D’Amour could see him now!

He grunts as he pulls himself up onto the platform, belly getting scratched against the grates as he goes. Eddie scrambles to get his legs underneath himself. Then, he stands, dusts himself off and takes the win, graceless as it was.

The fire escape is rickety and fucking loud as he takes the steps two at a time. It’s cold enough that even the quickest touch of the steel railings drains all the heat out of his fingers, so he just keeps them balled up, swinging at his sides. The wind is especially chilly up here too, something he hadn’t noticed on the ground, but now that he’s up a couple of floors there wasn’t anything for the wind to buff off except the side of the building and, well, Eddie.

By the time he reaches the third floor, his nose is running and no doubt red and irritated looking, and he’s woefully out of breath.

Kind of a pathetic knight, he thinks as he sniffs back the worst of it, wipes the underside of his nose on the sleeve of his jacket to get rid of what’s left.

The light in Steve’s room is on, reaching out to him through the lines of Steve’s shut blinds.

His hand is raised, wind-chapped knuckles knocking against the glass of his window before he can plan out what he’s going to say. He just wants to see Steve. Get eyes on him again. Work this out.

It’s a painful few seconds before Eddie can see movement from inside the window. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently waits for Steve to let him in. His breath fogs the window.

Then finally. Finally! The blinds are pulled up. He smiles and—

Oh Christ on a cross. That’s not Steve.

Eddie’s stomach damn near falls out of his ass as the woman on the other side of the glass screams, as shrill and high as if she were next to him.

And of course she’s in a fucking towel.

Eddie slaps one hand across his eyes and the other up in surrender, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Shit, Jesus, I—I’m not a pervert, I swear!”

Debatable, his brain supplies, entirely unhelpful in an emergency situation. But hey, what’s new?

“I was looking for my friend, not—Please stop screaming!” He screams.

“Eddie?” A familiar voice calls from below.

The hand on Eddie’s eyes lift and looks down through the metal grates under his boots. “Steve!”

Steve’s hanging half out his window, peering up at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie holds his arms out like it should be obvious. “Seeing you!” He snaps.

Eddie’s attention is briefly yanked back to the scandalized looking woman in the window in front of him. “I’m—yeah, I’m gonna—” He backs away, and swings around the escape before thundering down the stairs, shouting another apology up in his shameful retreat.

Steve backs up in order to let Eddie in. He climbs in as gracelessly as ever, all knees and elbows, stiff from the cold. He slides the window shut behind him once he’s in, dropping the blinds for good measure.

He wonders if Hopper is getting a call about a long-haired, wild-eyed, deranged looking peeping Tom at this very moment.

“Smooth.” Steve says from behind him, an edge of playfulness.

When Eddie turns and finally gets a good look at Steve, who looks especially comfortable in his flannel sleep pants and worn sweater, hands on hips. “I was looking for you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve snorts softly, “third floor, remember?”

“I counted! Ground floor, first floor, second floor, third floor.” Eddie says, using his hand to indicate his pattern of thought, moving it up a tick with each floor.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. And even though Eddie knows Steve’s laughing at him, he can’t help that warm feeling that pours through him, filling him up. All his cracks and edges, sealed up with Steve’s effortless being.

“No.” Steve raises his own hand, mirroring Eddie’s. He begins notching as he explains, “ground floor, second floor, third floor. The ground is the first floor, dude.”

Eddie frowns. “What? Since when?”

Steve levels Eddie with a flat look. “Since like, the civil war, dude.”

Huh. Eddie frowns. Mulling over the new bit of information. That would’ve been nice to know.

“Why were you even doing out there in the first place? We have things called front doors. And, y’know, phones.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest, losing a bit of steam as the words left him. Like he’s realized exactly what Eddie being here, in his rooms, meant.

“I had to see you.” Eddie says, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world, “Face to face, just me and you.”

“Can’t we just—I don’t know, pretend all of… that never happened? Hell, it might drop out of my head one of these days anyway. Lots of shit does.” Steve’s says, sounding so fucking defeated that it sends a sharp pain through Eddie’s chest.

“Hey,” Eddie makes a face, gets in Steve’s space, “don’t be a jerk to yourself.”

He ducks his head in an attempt to meet Steve’s downturned gaze, which he reluctantly returns. He’s got these big, warm eyes, the color of dark honey—the kind that are hard to look away from, so Eddie rarely does. He’a got a staring problem, he knows, but… damn. Can you really blame a guy?

A nerve in Steve’s jaw jumps when he clenches his teeth together, and salt pools begin forming along the rim of those familiar eyes. When he speaks, it’s stiff. Barely above a whisper. “I’m embarrassed, alright?”

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed, man.” Without thought, Eddie’s hands go to Steve’s arms, fingers hovering around his elbows. Eddie tilts his head again to try and keep eye contact again but Steve seems determined to avoid it.

“Easy for you to say.” Steve huffs, and sits down on the edge of his bed, slipping out of Eddie’s hold, arms still crossed over his chest. “You didn’t totally humiliate yourself in front of your—friend.”

The word, one in which Eddie holds in a most sacred of views, sounds distinctly hollow when Steve says it.

“Steve, listen to me, just for a sec, alright?” Eddie gets down to the floor, one knee buried in the carpet while the others bent out in front of him. “This is my fault.” He confesses, voice full of remorse.

Finally, Steve looks at him. His brows twitch together as he makes a face. “Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! I—I didn’t mean to, but I’m not exactly big on the whole impulse control thing, as you know, and, thinking back on things I probably… I probably let a few things slip.” Eddie explains, his rings clinking together lightly as he gestures with his hands.

Steve, however, doesn’t look any less confused. He blinks. “What?”

Eddie lets his head fall forward in a moment of defeat as he attempts to gather up his fleeting thoughts. It’s like chasing wet, feral cats up there!

Still, he picks himself back up. For Steve.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s knees. Feels the warmth under the soft, worn flannel. The hard muscle. Alive, whole. He tightens his grip. “Steve, I’ve been crazy about you since the first time I ever saw you. Don’t roll your eyes—I’m serious! You sat in front of me in math one year and you forgot your pencil. We were having a test that day, and you asked me if you could borrow one of mine, so I let you have the one I was using. You chewed up the end of it, squashed the eraser to all hell, but then when you gave it back to me, you smiled, thanked me and said, ‘I owe you one.’ It—okay, yeah, so it sounds, like, really small, and probably pretty pathetic, but… I was totally starstruck, man.”

At some point in his little spiel, Steve had uncrossed his arms. So Eddie takes the opportunity to clumsily take Steve’s hands, his insides feeling like a kicked hornets nest. Buzzing. He swallows. “I still am.”

Steve keeps his mouth shut, but there’s a knot in him that’s loosening, Eddie can tell. He’s just gotta keep tugging. He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

“The feeling was cranked up a few hundred clicks because of all the, y’know, near death experiences we went through together. But you get it now, right? You get how this is all my fault?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to—” Steve starts, hands stiffening in Eddie’s hold. Slipping away. But Eddie holds firm, decides to just fucking say it. If Steve could, Eddie could too.

“I’m in love with you too.” He blurts out, and now that he’s said it out loud, it’s like there’s a dam that gets busted inside of him; he can’t stop the rush of words that follows the confession. “That’s what you were seeing. That’s what you were noticing. I thought I was being slick, just keeping it friendly or whatever. Flirting, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d ever actually reciprocate. Because, honestly man, I’m not really used to people taking me all that seriously. ‘Zany, pot-head Eddie, can’t trust anything that comes out of his crooked mouth!’”

Eddie shakes his head, scoffing at his own blind spots, “But… you saw right through that shit—right through me. You didn’t make it up in your head, Steve—you felt it. You were right.”

Steve’s got a funny look on his face, but he nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead, but he doesn’t remove his hands from Eddie’s to fix it. “You love me?”

That’s like asking if the sun would rise tomorrow morning. Of course. Of course.

Eddie pulls one of Steve’s hands and flattens it onto his chest, over the leather.

“Every time my heart beats, it's your name it calls out, man.” Eddie says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he sees the red creep up on the apples of Steve’s cheeks. “D’you feel it?”

Steve gives a breathless chuckle, hesitating for a split second before he nods, playing along.

Electricity hums under Eddie’s skin, the resulting static snaps in the air around them. Eddie presses Steve’s hand against the wall of his chest a little harder, so that he can feel the pounding a bit better. Then Eddie whispers in time with the rhythm of his lovesick heart, giving it a voice, “Ste-vie, Ste-vie, Ste-vie…”

He keeps chanting until Steve’s grinning, eyes glued to their joined hands. It’s a fleeting thing, though. Eddie watches as that hard-won smile drops and a pinched look takes its place. “Even now? Eddie, I’m not—I don’t think I’m the same person I was before.”

“Are you kidding me? Especially now. In sickness and in health, right?” Somewhere in his brain an alarm sounds, but he doesn’t pause long enough to acknowledge exactly why, lest he lose momentum, “look, Steve, even if you are a little different from the guy you were in high school, you’re still you.”

A beat passes. “What if I never get better?”

“Steve, you will, the doctors said—”

“But what if I don’t? Jesus, Eddie, what if I get worse?” Steve’s voice had gone progressively more hushed as he spoke, as if he were so afraid of its possibility that even voicing it felt risky. Made it real, even in that small way. It’s something Steve’s thought about, Eddie realizes. Agonized over, even.

“Then I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets to take care of you.” Eddie says, sure as shit. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do, even if Steve hadn’t done a completely insane thing like falling in love with Eddie. His love isn’t conditional. “S’long as you’ll let me.” He tacks on.

It’s like a wall crumbling. Brick by brick, Eddie watches Steve’s resolve collapse. The rim of his eyes shine with unshed tears, his brow relaxes and his chin twitches. “You sure you want that?”

He scoffs, eyes wide. “It’s all I want.” He answers, quickly. A reflex. Who wouldn’t want to be with Steve Harrington? Eddie thought he was lucky just to be in the same fucking orbit as the guy, but now…

Now, as he watches a smile slowly spreads across Steve’s face—fucking Adonis incarnate—it feels like he won the goddamn lottery.

“Okay.” Steve utters, so softly that for a second Eddie thinks he’d imagined it.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, trying his damndest to keep from imploding. He’s fucking vibrating in his skin.

Instead of answering Eddie, Steve decides to clarify himself by leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Eddie’s.

Fireworks go off inside of Eddie, every inch of him. All lit up. Feels like he’s shining just as good as any knight.

One of Steve’s hands snake their way behind Eddie’s neck, pulling him closer, while the other remains held over Eddie’s jackrabbiting heart. Their lips part, and their kiss deepens. Eddie tries to keep up.

They eventually end up on Steve’s narrow twin bed laying side by side, legs entangled, kissing until their mouths go dry. Eddie swipes a calloused thumb over Steve’s cheek, savoring the feeling of the barely there stubble, the heat from the blush that never seems to subside.

They don’t speak for the rest of the night. Not even a ‘goodnight’ after Steve crawls over Eddie to flick off his bedside lamp, tugging the comforter up around their shoulders as he settles back into the safe harbor of Eddie’s arms. They don’t need words. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, all they need to do is to rest.

Whatever comes after, they’ll deal with it together.

—

Tag List: (if you’d like to be added to a permanent tag list for all my Steddie fics, please comment/message me! ◡̈ thank you for reading, everyone!)

@stervrucht @taylortheyellowlobster @eyehartart @jinojiboundagain @sleepy-steve @lexgilga @morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife @questionablequeeries @lil-gremlin-things @ellietheasexylibrarian @ajeff855 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thedragonsaunt @hello-sweetheart @stalactitekilla @archermightbegay @horror-music @breealtair @stevesharingtons @duraffinity @novacorpsrecruit @lawrencebshoggoth @tinyplanet95 @bookworm0690 @shoujo-wizard @weepsluv111 @justalittledrainbamage

[keikikait]

ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 5.4k

summary: rafe reminds you of the reason why he's doing all of this in the first place

warnings: dead dove, do not eat. stalker!rafe, drug use, smut (DUBCON/NONCON. READER IS DRUGGED WHILE HE TOUCHES HER, nipple play, masturbation (rafe jerks off while the reader is asleep PLEASE DONT LOOK AT ME)), rafe breaks into reader's house, flashback rafe is basically season 2 rafe, very slight john b x reader, drinking, rafe is obsessed, please read at your own discretion!, innocent(ish)!reader, again, stalker!rafe, manipulation, reader is still high on coke

a note: please don't look at me rn.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You look so beautiful, all pliant in his lap.

Rafe spends a long time just holding you, pushing your hair out of your eyes and wiping away the drool that periodically escapes your lips, all numb and tingling from the coke. His cock throbs at the sight of you, all limp and soft with blown out pupils, sitting vulnerable in his lap. You were in his arms, and you were his. His gaze travelled over you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way you were shivering. “You like that, angel?” his lips grazed your neck, nibbling softly. “I know you feel all warm and fuzzy, baby. That’s a sign of a good high.”

Your head falls against his shoulder, a soft whine escaping your lips. Rafe hums, his chest rumbling softly against your cheek. He had known that the coke would hit you hard, had been expecting it. But he was surprised by how responsive you were, how receptive you were to his touch. He rubs your hips, hands caressing you. “Shhh, angel, stay calm. Do you feel warm?”

You nod, starting to squirm in his lap. You were very warm, almost burning up, but you felt too lethargic to move. He could tell you were overheating, that the coke was making your blood run hot and your skin feel cold. He glances down to where he could see under the V-neck of the T-shirt he’d given you, and he chuckles softly, seeing your nipples poking up through the thin fabric. “You’re warm, angel. Want me to take off your shirt for you? You’ll cool down without it on.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before Rafe pulls your shirt off anyway, tossing it aside. “Fuck, so pretty,” he murmurs, reaching up to pinch your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He spent the better part of a year and a half wondering, dreaming about what they would look like, zooming in on photos of you in bikinis just hoping he would catch a glimpse. They were perfect, even more perfect than he imagined. He pinches them hard. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”

The pinch sends you reeling, pulling back slightly. “Ow!” You whine as you squirm, trying to get away from his eager fingers. “No…stop… God, please!”

Rafe chuckles, putting one hand on your lower back and pulling you forward. “Awh, angel,” he pinches your nipple again. “God can’t help you. He left you here with me.” He tuts when you whine again, pressing you against him. “Oh, come on baby, don't be shy”, he coos, giving them another sharp squeeze. “These tits are mine now, aren't they? You're my little doll, my angel.” he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “And I'm going to have so much fun breaking you in.”

You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt, right up against your clit. You shake your head, trying to move away, but your body is so heavy and warm. You manage to find your voice, opening your eyes to look at him, although your vision is blurry. “Why are you…doing this to me?”

“Because you're mine,” Rafe says, a small laugh escaping him as he grinds his thick cock against your sensitive clit. “I've wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you. You’re right here, in my lap, all mine.” He moves his hand off of your nipple and cups your face, bringing your face towards his to kiss you. You struggle to kiss back, your lips and mouth still tingling from the cocaine on your gums.

You pull away. “Stop! Please! I didn’t do anything to you!” 

“Awh, baby,” He shifts you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against his chest, his face right next to yours. He runs his hands over your shoulder blades. “Do you not remember it, angel?”

“Remember what?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“The night we met.” Rafe says, pushing some hair behind your ears.

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That summer night was as hot and sticky as the rest.

The Pogues and the Kooks had all gathered at The Boneyard, all attending a bonfire put on by Pope. Rafe had never even planned on going, but after he heard there would be free booze and free cocaine, he decided he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. When Rafe had arrived, you were already there, bottle of beer at your lips as you sat with JJ and John B. Pope was around, walking the beach, mingling with the others.

Rafe watches you from across the sand, just a ways away, watching as you laughed at something JJ had said. He had seen you around, of course, knew that you were friends with all of his least favourite Pogues, but he had never really talked to you. You intrigued him right off the bat, sitting there all beautiful, surrounded by two of the biggest losers in North Carolina, at least in Rafe’s opinion. He excuses himself from his conversation with Topper and Kelce walked forward, pushing past people as he moved toward you, his hands in his pockets.

JJ glances over and immediately stands, ready to fight, but Rafe sticks his hands up in defence. “Relax, Maybank, relax. I come in peace tonight.” 

JJ sits back down on the log next to you, scoffing. He grips the neck of the beer bottle tight. “What do you want, Rafe?”

Rafe looks down at you, and he suddenly doesn’t really know what he wants. He was so used to having a plan, knowing exactly what he was doing. But right now, he was just staring at you, and he didn’t really know what to say. Not that that ever stopped him before. “I came to talk.” he says.

“About what?” John B asks. “Have you come to apologise?”

“Apologise?” He snorts. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that. I just wanted to say something to the angel sitting over here.” His eyes flit over to you for a moment before looking at John B again. “I don’t want a big scene, just want a couple of minutes alone with her. Get to know her, you know?”

“Well, she's not interested,” John B says, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Go bother someone else. Plenty of girls here, I'm sure you can find one who's into Kook assholes like you.”

Rafe glares at John B, his head tilting slightly. He didn’t mind his insults to him, of course he didn’t, but he didn’t like the way John B was holding onto you, and he definitely didn’t like the way John B spoke for you. “Why don’t you let her speak for herself?”

You anxiously rub the beer bottle label with your thumb. “Sorry, Rafe. I’m trying to have a fun time with my friends tonight. But John B is right, there are plenty of girls here.”

Rafe purses his lips, his gaze flickering back and forth between you, John B, and JJ. He glances around, seeing plenty of girls nearby, all of them looking fine. Maybe he really was just imagining things, imagining the butterflies in his stomach and the blood rushing to his cock. He didn’t know you at all, really. He just thought you were pretty, and that had been enough for him to want you. This is just all his pride speaking, he didn’t like being rejected, he would move on. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. My apologies.” He excuses himself, exiting with a small wave before heading back over to Topper and Kelce.

“What a fucking asshole.” JJ mumbles, taking another sip of his beer. Your gaze follows him until he’s out of sight, heading behind a few rocks with Topper and Kelce. You could feel his eyes on you as he walked away, and it gave you a weird feeling. You didn’t want him to be mad at you for saying no, didn’t want him to think you were rude or anything, but you just weren’t interested in Kooks. Especially Rafe. 

Even if he is really attractive, almost annoyingly so.

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Rafe watches you all night. 

He gets high on coke, snorting way too many lines, hoping the buzz would keep you and your pretty little body off of his mind, but it does the opposite. He can’t stop himself from glancing over in your direction, staring for a bit too long as you dance around the fire with John B. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and by the time it’s getting closer to two in the morning, he’s had enough. 

The coke has long since worn off, and he’s starting to get pissed off at himself, at wanting someone he can’t have, at getting so fixated on someone so goddamn quickly. He glances around the fire, noticing how many of the Pogues had wandered off, heading home or into the woods with different people for the night, and he suddenly sees his opportunity.

You, hunched over by the shore, throwing up. You had gotten really drunk, drinking beer after beer, and even sipping directly from a vodka bottle that Kiara brought. Rafe had hoped that your incessant intoxication would cause your body, or even your gaze, to find its way over to him, but it didn’t. You kept hanging onto that stupid asshole John B, both arms wrapped around his neck as you sat on his lap next to the bonfire. Rafe watched from afar as John B fed you s’mores, holding your chin in his hand to help you chew, gripping the beer bottle in his hands so tight he thought it would snap. 

Rafe excuses himself from Topper and Kelce as he makes his way over to you, hands in his pockets. He can’t help but feel excited about your vulnerable state, all alone and sequestered away from your stupid Pogue friends. He stands behind you and watches, looking at the way your thighs look in your shorts before speaking, “You alright?”

You stand up, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Even after vomiting three times, you’re not any less drunk. “Mhm. Peachy.”

He watches you, a slight hint of concern in his eyes. You were really drunk, and you looked like you might collapse at any moment. Your balance was definitely off, which was clear the second you attempted to stand straight. “You want some water?”

You nod, stumbling towards him. You hit his chest, resting against it as your eyes close. “Please.”

His hands instinctively go to your hips, stabilising you against him so you don’t fall. His gaze travels over you, looking at your flushed face and your glassy eyes. So fucking drunk, and so fucking vulnerable. “Sit down a sec, angel. You’re gonna fall over.”

You let out a soft grunt as you sit in the sand, hands going down to dig into it to support yourself. “Okay.”

Rafe squats down next to you, looking out at the waves as they crash against the sand. He glances over at you, seeing how your big eyes were flitting around, unable to focus on one thing. You were so drunk, so out of it, so vulnerable, and he loved it more than anything. “You’re really smashed, huh?” He hands you a half empty water bottle, having drank most of it earlier. It was warm, and the lid was coated in sand, but you didn't seem to even notice.

You eagerly drink the rest of the water, swishing some in your mouth and spitting towards the shore before crunching the bottle in your hands, struggling to recap it. “Mhm. But that’s the point of a party.”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to have a good time. But you’re supposed to stay lucid, not get so trashed that all you can do is throw up and stumble around.” He takes the crushed water bottle from you, putting it aside before turning to face you again, kneeling in the sand.

Your eyes meet his, yet you’re looking right through him, barely registering what’s going on around you. You reach out and grab him, yanking him towards you, his hands falling to the sand on either side of your hips. Your faces are so close. “You’re pretty.”

Rafe grins, leaning forward a bit so that he was almost nose to nose with you, letting his gaze run over your face. You were so out of it, so out of control, so out of your mind, and he loved it, loving the far off look in your eyes. He felt so powerful knowing that he could have you, could do anything he wanted to and have you unable to deny him. It would be so easy to push you back against the sand, to hold you down and make you beg for him. He lets out a low, breathy laugh, his eyes still trained on yours. “Yeah? You think I’m pretty?”

“So pretty,” You mumble, reaching out to hold onto his biceps. “Prettiest guy ever.”

His lips curl into a smug smirk when you bring your hands to his arms. He moves his hands from the sand and rests them on your thighs, fingers trailing over the exposed skin as he moves to kneel between your legs. He was so close to you now, he could just move forward and kiss you. But he loves this, loves being so close that he could have you, loves how drunk you were, loves how all your inhibitions were gone right now. He loved the way you were looking at him. “Yeah? Prettiest guy on Kildare?”

“Prettiest guy in North Carolina,” You say, lightly scratching your nails on his biceps. “Prettiest guy in America.”

Rafe’s gaze darkens as your fingernails scrape at his biceps, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, closer to you. You were so cute, so out of it, and you were here with him. You were calling him pretty and letting him touch you when you were normally so stubborn and headstrong. He knew if you weren’t as drunk, you’d be pushing him away, telling him to leave you alone, but you weren’t, and he takes advantage of that. He wants to take advantage of you. He leans closer, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah? The whole United States?”

You nod. “Yeah. Whole world, probably,” Rafe hums in satisfaction, his face still right next to yours, your nose touching his. He lets his gaze travel over your face, taking in the beautiful lines of your features, your big, glassy eyes, your flushed cheeks. He loves how vulnerable you are right now, how trusting and affectionate you are, his touch-starved self revelling in any attention you give him. One hand moves from your thigh, pushing some hair behind your ear. You swallow hard. “Wanna kiss you so bad. I always wanna kiss you.”

God, you’re so honest when you’re drunk, it makes his cock throb. “You do, angel? You wanna kiss me?” His hand moves to your cheek, gently brushing over your skin, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. One touch was all it would take to kiss you, a small jerk forward would be enough, and he desperately wants to. You bite your lip, still staring straight through him before leaning forward and kissing him, one hand going to the nape of his neck.

Rafe’s eyes widen as you lean in and kiss him. His jaw tenses, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets go, letting himself fall into the kiss. He reaches forward, grabbing you and practically pulling you into his lap. Your lips were so soft, so perfect, just how he thought they would be, and he lets out a sigh, his hand burying itself in your hair. You shift in his lap, pressing your chest against his, deepening the kiss. He lets out an almost desperate whimper when you press your chest against his, his hands sliding to your hips, moving you in his lap so that you’re straddling him, sitting on his thick thighs as he continues to kiss you. He pulls away, tongue brushing against yours. “You’re so perfect, baby.”

“Mhm…” You lean back, your head spinning. “Johnny…”

Rafe’s heart stops, just for a second.

Johnny?

His grip tightens on your hips as he racks his brain, trying to figure out who the fuck Johnny is--

John B. 

You were hanging all over him at the party, sitting in his lap and letting him feed you s’mores. You thought he was John B.

You whine and squirm in his lap, feeling your stomach churn. He can hear the whine in your voice, feel the way you squirm as your gut revolts from the amount of alcohol you’ve had. “What’s wrong, baby? You feel sick?” He knew the answer, of course, seeing how pale your face was getting. 

You nod and Rafe lets you up, looking over his shoulder as you vomit again onto the shore line. He stands, turning to face you. You thought he was John B this entire time. Were you and John B dating? Did he have no chance with you? Would you even remember this come tomorrow? He goes to step towards you as you vomit again when he hears someone calling your name. He looks back over his shoulder to see JJ and Pope heading down the dune, looking for you.

“What the fuck are you doing here with her?” Pope asks him as JJ rushes over to you, holding your hair back as you vomit again.

Rafe doesn’t hesitate, shooting a glare at Pope. “Just having a conversation.” His gaze lingers on JJ as he holds your hair back. “You guys taking her home? She’s pretty smashed.”

“Why do you care?” JJ asks, wiping your mouth for you.

“Just curious, why are you getting defensive?” He watches as JJ holds your face tenderly, looking after you, and he feels the overwhelming wave of jealousy again, although he doesn’t know why. He’s never felt this possessive of someone before, never had strong feelings before, and seeing another man touch you, care for you, is really pissing him off. “God forbid I want someone to be okay, Maybank.”

“Don’t worry about her, man,” Pope says, joining JJ at your side. “None of your concern.”

He bites his tongue, hard. He didn’t want to start a fight, not with you being sick and your stupid friends acting like this. But god dammit, he really wanted to punch Pope, throw him right to the ground and kick him over and over until he was spitting up blood and guts. “Yeah, no, not worrying anymore. You handle her, then.”

“We will,” Pope says, helping you walk back towards the parking lot. “Later, asshole.”

Rafe sighs as you disappear from sight, kicking the sand. “Fuck.”

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Rafe can’t get you out of his head. Not on his drive away from The Boneyard, not while he continues the party at Topper’s place, and not when he’s finally at home in his bed. He tosses and turns for a while, thinking about your lips against his and the way you felt in his lap, the way your skin felt under his fingers. Your little whines and whimpers play over and over in his head.

He feels himself growing harder as he flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he groans, running a hand through his hair. He reaches over and grabs his phone, unplugging it as he unlocks it. He pulls his boxers down, tucking them underneath his balls as he scrolls through his apps. He clicks on Instagram, heading to the search bar, before pausing. Shit. He didn’t know your last name. He sighs, switching over to his burner account and types JJ’s username into the search bar, @jj.maybankofficial. Little fucker had blocked him months ago. He clicks on JJ’s following list and types in your first name, and for a second he panics, half expecting nothing to show up.

But then he sees you.

Your profile is set to public. How convenient. How cute.

He scrolls through your photos, cock fully hardened, pre-cum already dripping from his tip. He finds a few he likes, screenshotting them for later, before finding one that makes his cock throb against his stomach. The photo of is of you in a bikini, holding a smoothie bowl, and smiling into the camera. One of the cups of your bikini is slightly pushed to the side, revealing some of your nipple.

Rafe's breath hitches as he stares at the picture on his phone. “Fuck... Look at those tits,” He mumbles, stroking faster. He leans forward, propping his phone up on his chest as he watches the photo intently. His other hand moves between his legs, and he fondles with his balls, cupping and squeezing them. Pre-cum leaks from the tip, making it easier to stroke. “Yeah, that's it,” he grunts, eyes locked on your face in the screen. “Such a pretty little thing.” Rafe keeps jerking himself off, moaning softly as he strokes faster. The hand that was on his balls reaches up, rubbing at one of his nipples, pinching and twisting it. He rolls his hips up, thrusting his hips into his hand. He can't help but imagine what it would be like if he was fucking you instead, your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, cumming all over his phone screen, right on your pretty little face. He slumps back against his pillow, panting heavily as he comes down from his high. He wipes his sticky hand across his chest, smearing some of the cum onto his abs. He locks his phone and sets it aside, breathing heavily as his cock softens.

It isn’t enough. You’ve corrupted him, and he can’t stop thinking about you, and it isn’t long before he’s hard again. He needs more, he needs something different. “God dammit,” he mumbles, picking his phone back up. He unlocks it before going onto Google, typing in his favourite porn site and scrolling through the top search results, trying to find a girl that looks like you.

He finds a girl that looks close enough, starring in a video titled ‘Hot slut gets fucked rough by her brother’s best friend!!’. He tries so hard to jerk off to it, and although his cock is hard and leaking pre-cum, he can’t get into it. The lighting sucks, the angle is bad, and the girl is so loud and annoying. He exits the video and closes his phone, groaning as he lets go of his cock. Rafe stares back up at the ceiling, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach as it starts to soften.

This wasn’t working. He needed more.

Rafe sits up, digging through his bedside table, and pulls out a small dime bag of coke and a small pocket mirror. He pours some out carefully, smoothing it out and making one single line with his credit card. He sets the credit card down and grabs a dollar bill from his wallet, rolling it up tight. He keeps thinking about you, his mind going back to the way your ass looked in your shorts tonight and the way you clung onto him. He sets the mirror down on his bedside table before snorting the whole line in one go. The cocaine burns as it enters his nose, the effects kicking in within minutes as his head starts to rush. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans back against the wall, the high hitting him hard.

Rafe needed you. 

Fuck. He was going to regret this.

He stands up with a grunt, pulling his boxers back up. He was still hard as fuck, the coke definitely not helping. He digs through his dresser and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, putting them on before slipping his shoes on and grabbing his keys. He rushes out of Tanneyhill, heading down the driveway towards his truck. He hops in, completely forgetting his seatbelt as he puts his keys in the ignition, turning the car on and pulling out of his driveway. He drives along the streets, the adrenaline making the cocaine even more intense. He knows he’s probably too high to be driving a vehicle, but he can’t help himself, he needs you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he drives, his mind swimming with images of you. 

It’s a 15-minute trip to the south side of the island, and soon he realises that he doesn’t know where you live. Rafe sighs, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He’s a powerful man with powerful connections. He scrolls through his contacts, tapping on a name. It rings a couple of times before someone picks up on the other side. “Yeah?” the voice on the other end asks, sounding exhausted.

“Hey, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “It’s Rafe. Ward’s son?”

“Yeah, I know who you are, kid. What is it?” The annoyance in her tone was obvious.

“Listen, I uh…” Rafe sighs. “I need help finding someone’s address. They were at my party tonight, and they were pretty drunk, so I just wanted to check on them.”

There’s a long pause from the other end of the phone, and Rafe can hear the creaking of a chair as she shifts her weight. “Whose address, kid?” Rafe gives her your name, hands gripping the steering wheel as he hears her typing away.

There are a few more pauses of silence, the clicking of the keyboard, before she responds. “Got it, I texted it to you. Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“Does she have a record, or?” Rafe asks. “I'm just trying to stay clean, you know. Like we talked about.”

She lets out a humourless laugh. “No, she’s clean. Parents are clean, too. Nothing to be concerned about. You’ve been staying away from coke like you said, right?”

“Of course I am, Agent Peterkin,” Rafe says. “Alright, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”

Peterkin sighs, knowing that she doesn’t believe him for a second. “Behave yourself,” is all she responds with before she hangs up. 

Rafe opens the text thread, finding your address. He clicks on it, and it opens up the map app on his phone. It’s not far, only 5 more minutes, down the street from The Chateau.

He feels himself grinning, his heart rate picking up as he gets closer, knowing that he was going to see you again soon. He drives a little bit faster than he should, turning onto the road your house is on before pulling up outside. He stares at the house, his gaze flitting from window to window, trying to figure out which window was your bedroom. He parks his truck down the street, walking through the darkness towards your house.

It was small. Cute. Looked easy to break into.

Rafe checks the windows, finding them all locked with the curtains drawn. He tries your front door, which is locked as well. He moves around to the back of the house, walking past your backyard and finding the back door. He carefully walks up the stairs, hand on the doorknob. He takes a deep breath before twisting it.

It opens.

He grins triumphantly, silently pushing it open and walking through the dark house. He shuts the door behind him, glancing around. He had to remind himself to go slow, to stay steady. You weren’t his yet, but you would be. He slowly makes his way through the dark house, looking around for anything to tell him where your room was. He opens one of the doors and peeks in, but finds your parents both asleep, the TV on low. He carefully shuts the door before heading down the hallway towards the second closed door.

He slowly pushed open the door to your room, breathing out when he sees the bed. His gaze travels over the walls, the decorations, the furniture. There’s a small light on your bedside table, casting a soft golden glow over your skin. He walks towards the bed, sitting on the edge, watching you sleep. You were out like a light, completely unaware that he was here, watching you. You looked so perfect when you were asleep, so peaceful, curled up on your side wearing a thin tank top and tiny little pyjama shorts. He gently reached out, letting his fingers trail over your soft cheek.

He feels his cock harden again.

“Okay,” He breathes out softly as he slowly, carefully flips you over onto your back. You shift around and mumble, but you don’t wake up. He lets out a shaky breath, untying his sweatpants and pushing them down around his knees. He pulls his cock out, his boxers resting underneath his balls.

You shift again, wiggling around on the bed, throwing your arms over your head. You’re still asleep.

Rafe freezes, heart pounding in his chest as he watches you move in your sleep. His cock twitches, throbbing in his hand as he imagines what it would feel like when he first pushes into you, feeling your warm wetness envelop him. He leans closer, slowly trailing a finger down your neck, across your collarbone, and along the swell of your breast. He cups your breast in his palm, thumb brushing over your nipple as it hardens under his touch. A soft whimper escapes your lips, but you remain unconscious, lost in slumber. He pushes your tank top up carefully, revealing your stomach, so soft and just begging to be covered in kisses. If he lifted your shirt any higher he would risk waking you.

Rafe's breathing grows ragged as he continues to explore your body, mapping every curve and contour. He wants to memorise you, to claim every inch of you as his own. And he will, in time. He squeezes his cock before starting to brush his fingers over the tip. He starts to jerk off again, panting softly, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up slightly to give him better access. His fingers brush over your inner thigh, teasing you through your thin pyjama shorts. He rubs his thumb over your clothed slit, feeling how warm you are. His movements become more erratic, faster, chasing his release as he imagines burying himself inside you and cumming, claiming you as his own, as his little angel. His hand starts to speed up as his fingers drift over to your face, dragging them across your lips. He didn’t want to wake you up, but fuck he wanted to touch you more.

He suddenly stops touching you, leaning back as he grips his cock tighter, his free hand going to fondle his balls, stroking furiously as he cums all over your stomach, groaning quietly, whispering your name over and over. He pants softly, wiping the cum off on your pyjamas before tucking himself away and fixing his clothes. He glances at you once more before slipping out of the room, leaving as quietly as he came. He pauses at the end of the hall, glancing back one last time before forcing himself to leave, knowing he'd be back again soon enough. He couldn't get enough of you, and he knew that no matter how many times he snuck in to watch you sleep or touched himself while imagining all the filthy things he wanted to do to you, he would always come back for more. You were his, whether you knew it or not. His obsession. His angel. His everything. And one day, he'd make sure everyone else knew it too.

Especially that fucker John B.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe smirks at the horrified look on your face. “That’s how we met, baby. You don’t remember?”

You squirm violently, trying to push him away, although your body is still lethargic. “You’re sick, Rafe.”

He rolls his eyes, holding you down against his chest. “Please. You’re the one who told me I was pretty.” He teases, resting his chin on the top of your head as he keeps you pinned in his lap.

“I thought you were John B,” You say, defending yourself. “I didn’t know it was you.”

“But it was me,” He says, burying his nose in your hair. “You think I’m pretty.” He repeats, nuzzling your neck before pulling back and running his fingers through your hair, feeling how soft it is. 

“You can’t do this, Rafe,” You say, eyes starting to well with hot, shameful tears. “You can’t keep me here!”

“But I can,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him, smiling softly at the look of fear in your eyes. You looked so beautiful when you were scared of him. “And I will keep you here. I’ve come to take what’s mine.”

He leans in close, biting your earlobe. “You can’t run from me forever.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

i'm sorry that the ending is kinda blah. i didn't know what to do lol.

part three is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my obx taglist here!

[pintrestgrl]

Okay, listen!! Being very angsty here

Kook!reader and Rafe are wonderful together— the it-couple of Kildare. They both love partying and going on boat trips and shopping on the mainland. Rafe loves her and she loves him, and it's been like that for years.

Now for the angst: during spring break Topper hosts a party and reader loses Rafe while talking to friends, so she obviously goes to look for him, a little drunk, a little horny too, maybe, and poor baby finds him doing lines in some room and she just doesn't know what to say or do...

— 🪼

aw poor baby. she probably thinks he’s like the perfect bf too. 🥲 anyways hi 🪼 anon !! i missed u ! i love this idea too send more pls

also, for your season 4 ask, it might be like terrible to say but i haven’t watched season 4 yet… ik shocking. but im currently rewatching all the seasons rn 😭

but i will try to do it once i get to season 4 !!

i’m so so sorry 😭

also this ask is from like weeks ago.. but i just now got to it.. anyways im terrible at posting

pls enjoy !!

sweetheart!kook!reader with boyfriend!rafe.

you and rafe had been together forever, and everybody knew it.

everyone knew that you were his girlfriend, and he was your boyfriend.

you two were perfect together.

you went on yacht trips on his family’s boat, shopping excursions to the mainland, and you both attended every party that the outer banks had to offer.

another party came, so naturally you went with rafe.

you arrived with him, and began drinking and dancing the night away as he subtly pulled down your dress from behind you.

you had been there for around 30 minutes, when you realized you had lost him in the crowd at some point in time.

you already were a bit drunk, and kinda needy at this point. so, you needed rafe. desperately.

you stumbled along the crowded halls of the mansion, accidentally opening a few sex-filled rooms a long the way.

you finally came to the end of the hall, opening the door.

you froze.

behind it, was rafe. which should have calmed you down.

but the sight made you want to run away from the whole situation.

he was sitting in the laundry room, his head down as he snorted a line of white powder off the laundry machine.

you guessed you let out a small noise of shock, because his head raised.

the look on his face, was nothing but one of shock. of fear. of shame.

he wiped his nose, quickly standing up from the chair.

you backed away a little, not able to find the will to speak right now.

he spoke to you.

“oh, fuck— god, baby. it’s not what it looks like, okay. c’mere.”

he attempted to approach you, but you only backed away. you didn’t know what to say, or do, or think.

all you could think of, was that you just witnessed your sweet boyfriend doing a line of coke.

you finally found it in you to speak.

“what— what was that, rafe? what were you doing?”

he took hold of your wrists, not allowing you to move. he avoided your eyes, his pupils blown out.

he spoke.

“nothin’, baby. don’t worry about it. just calm down, okay. listen to me.”

you nodded slowly, afraid of who he would become while he was on drugs like this.

he spoke again.

“let’s just— go home. i think it’s time for you to go home.”

you shook your head, rather quickly. you didn’t want to go. you wanted to be with him. you didn’t mean to see that sight, it wasn’t like you wanted too.

you spoke.

“‘no— please, rafe. i wanna stay. please, it’s fine.”

he grunted, shaking his head.

“no. you’re goin’ home, okay? just listen to me for once, god.”

you frowned. his words got so much meaner, and you could only blame it on the drugs coursing through his body.

he took a bit too tight hold of your arms, leading you towards the door, then to his car.

you got in, too scared to protest staying at the party anymore.

you were scared. very, very scared. you’d never seen rafe like this in all the years you’d known him.

he turned the car on, sloppily pulling out of the driveway.

he sped all the way home, his car going well over the speed limit.

you were frozen, and silent with fear the whole car ride.

you wanted him to slow down, but you were much too fearful to say anything to his face right now.

he arrived at your house, letting out a gruff noise that only told you to get out.

you reluctantly opened your mouth, and spoke.

“rafe, we can— we can talk about it. please? can we talk about it?”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes. he finally looks at your eyes, and you saw nothing in them. nothing but his dilated pupils. usually, you’d seen a hint of love or admiration in his eyes.

there was nothing.

he spoke, harshly.

“just— shut the fuck up. got it? get out. now.”

you sucked in a shaky hiss at his mean words, nodding and opening the door of his car, hopping out.

usually, he’d have the common decency to walk you to the door and say hi to your parents.

as you walked to the door, you heard him speed off. not even bothering to see if you got in okay.

you felt tears prick your eyes, as you rushed upstairs. avoiding the words of your parents.

you showered, and changed. finally sitting down in your bed.

you were so worried, so confused.

where did he go? did he get there okay? what was he doing in that room?

you thought about sending him a text or two, but deciding to drop the idea when the memory of his blunt words came in your head.

you took a shaky breath, rolling over and clutching the stuffy that rafe had gotten for you a while back.

you had many questions.

how could he just dismiss you like that? and treat you so much different then he usually did?

you hated what he had done. hated what you had witnessed. hated what he said to you.

but yet, you couldn’t quite find it in you to hate him.

you loved him, with everything you had in you.

and he had been hiding half his life away from you.

you let your tears soak the plush animal, as you let every bad thought consume your mind.

before you finally, succumbed to a deep slumber.

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[angelfrombeneth]

HAVENT I MADE IT OBVIOUS? - T . NOTT

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: *REQUESTED* Reader and Theodore are best friends. Reader gets wrapped up in her first love scandal and Theodore cant handle it. He cant cope that its not him.

Warnings: Angst, Slight Fluff, The most heart warming love confession ever. Mentions of sex but hardly.

A/N: The request wasn't super specific so I decided to go with something like this.No smut, because I have a really similar request which specifically asks for smut so that one will have smut.

"Teddy don't be a twat" You smacked his head as you sat beside him.

"What! Its not my fault the instructions were unclear" He scoffed.

You and Theo both were sat in potions as you both were paired up for a task. Theo thought he was being funny reading the ingredients not in the correct order and ultimately fucking up the mixture.

"This is why I hate pairing up with you in class" You groaned.

"Hey Y/N!" You looked up to see Cedric leaning against the front of your workbench.

"Oh, Hey Cedric" You smiled.

"I was wondering" He smiled at you, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment for placing a hand ontop if yours. "Would you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for a meal or something?" He grinned.

You smiled as you sat up in your seat. "I'd love that"

"Ill meet you at 6, outside your commonroom on Friday?"

You nodded as he smiled, caressing your hand before walking back to his seat.

You heard a scoff beside you, your neck cracked to look at Theo, who had a huge scowl on his face. "Your going on a date with him? He's such a prick"

"Oh fuck off Theo" You rolled your eyes as you stood up gathering your books before exiting the class.

Theo caught up with you, walking beside you. "No seriously, he's such a priss. Why's you wanna date.. that" You scoffed at his statement before scaling the stairs down to the Slytherin Commonroom.

"Theo shut up-" You turn to see Pansy. "Oh my god! Pans!" You squealed as you ran at her.

You felt Theo's moody presence slip away with Draco and Mattheo who walked over to him as soon as you ran to Pansy.

"Cedric asked me on a date!" You squealed.

"No way- Oh my god, this will be so good" Pansy smiled, grabbing your hand. "You can test the waters before the date at the party tonight!"

"Party?" And with that Pansy yanked you to your feet and you scrambled up the stairs being dragged behind her as the next 4 hours entailed getting ready for the party.

Slytherin parties were always off the chain. Every other house could party for sure, but the amount of shit Slytherin would gather for the party. All the alcohol and drugs like it was some free tester aisle of a muggle store. It would always end very heated whether everyone was hooking up or someone started a fight. It was always the same old shit.

You decided on a basic little black dress, you can never go wrong. The dress was short and frilled. To be fair it looked more like one of those frilly tops that remind you of a dress. Your assets were out on display, but it was a party why not.

"Girl, that dress is definitely not your size but it's so cute!" She chuckled as you spun around. You fixed the top, making sure there will be no nipple slips. "You have literally the perfect body; tits, ass and thighs. I'm so jealous"

"Pans shut up, you are so hot I won't even leave for the party we can have our own" You both giggled as you leaned forward kissing her cheek before grabbing her eyeliner and finishing up your makeup.

By now the party was in full swing for atleast an hour and you two were only just getting done. You held hands as you exited Pansy's dorm and skipped downstairs giggling. Not to mention the two if you had pregamed before.

You two did you rounds round the party greeting everyone and stealing shots from groups. You both got to your friends on the couch in the back corner as you stood like bambi, struggling to stand straight in your heels from how fucked you were.

"Woah- Careful" You heard as you felt a hand snake around your waist steadying you. You look up to the side and catch Theo's dark eyes staring down at you.

"Thanks" You giggled leaning into his chest, pulling his arms over your shoulder, holding his hands as you looked to the group. Pansy situated herself on Enzo's lap the two of them giggling at you and Theo.

"So Y/N, any updates with Mr Badger? I was told about your date" Mattheo smirked, he wasnt trying to wind Theo up, he didnt know but Theo still got pissed.

You felt Theo tense behind you but you didn't take notice of it as you continued to okay with the rings on his hands. "We haven't been on the date yet, but he seems nice"

You heard Theo scoff as you turned to look up at him. "Nice my ass" He mumbled. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue as you continued conversation with your friends.

Theo was enjoying the company, enjoying the feeling of your body snuggled against him as you played with his rings. God, he was falling, quick. He was too busy daydreaming to even notice you had sauntered away to the other side of the room.

"Ced~" You smiled as you stood beside him.

"Hey Y/N- You look gorgeous tonight" He chuckled, taking your hand and pulling you to stand between his legs. His hands gripping your thighs, dangerously close to your ass.

"So do you" You smiled, running your hand softly up and down his chest. "M' excited for our date" You giggled.

"Me too.. Its not everyday you get to be in the presence of a goddess" He licked his lips.

"Stop it you!" You chuckled, hitting his shoulder.

"Cant help myself" His hands threatening to touch the curve of your ass.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, chuckling down at him as he pulled you closer by your thighs, placing his lips onto yours as he kissed you softly.

It was needy, very needy. He gripped your ass as you leaned over kissing him more passionately as you say on his knee.

Third POV

Theo couldn't cope at the sight. The second Pansy pointed it out, his hand tightened around his bottle. Anger filling his body as he watched another man kiss you. Another man touch you. That should be him. Not Cedric. Him. Jealously bubbled inside of him, very quickly.

Theo was too focused on the scene that the glass bottle shattered at the pressure. All his friends turned to look at the sound and him. He looked down at his bloody hand as he wiped it on his shirt, before groaning and turning to push through the crowd.

Everyone was confused by the sudden action by Theo, they had no clue what caused it, or even a smidge of knowledge how much Theo loved you.

Theo rushed away, pushing through people trying to get further and further away from the hurt. His hand covered in blood and throbbing as he stopped at the stairs. Turning to look in your direction, noticing your still with him. He bit his lip, holding in any emotion as he continued up the stairs.

Your POV

A many days later, after the party, you and Cedric went on your date. It was lovely, he was very attentive which you loved. You didn't see him much the few days after but chalked it up to him being busy.

It wasn't till it was 4 days after your date with Cedric you noticed the boy was still yet to talk to you. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you wanted to confront him. Why was he ignoring you.

Suddenly someone bumped into you, quickly apologising as they sprinted down the hall. Curious you followed them, it was a first year probably not a huge deal

You had no expectation for the kid, but it wasn't what he was running to caught your eye. It was down a dark corridor you turned to see Cedric and Theodore.. talking? Before you could even call at them, Theo pounces on Cedric. Your eyes wide as you froze. You were too far down the hall to do anything but noticed Mattheo, Draco, Enzo and Blaise all struggling to pull Theo off Cedric. Cedrics friends yelling as Cedric was frankly getting battered.

You sprinted down the hall towards them, aa they got ripped apart as you approached. Cedric and Theo's face all bloody.

"What the fuck is wrong with you??" You screamed as you looked at Theo.

He looked shocked, taken back. "Me?? He started it!"

"Sock it Theo, there was no need" You helped Cedric to his feet. "Let me take you to the hospital wing" And with that the two of you left.

Third POV:

"Shut up Nott, you're so up her ass. Don't be mad she hasn't put out for you yet. It's a long list. She's just a hole to fill. You'll have your turn " Cedric laughed.

Theo doesn't know how he got in this situation, he was just walking then saw Cedric and now he was ontop of the boy pummelling his face in. He was talking shit about you, lying about you. He was horrible.

But the worse thing for Theo was when he saw you. Saw your face when you looked between the two of them. His heart broke when you reached for Cedric, cheking if he was OK and whisking him away.

Theo was going insane.

Your POV:

It had been a day since the fight. Both boys were in the hospital wing but you refused to see Theo why would he do that. He was your bestfriend, and Cedric was just.. a guy. A guy that made you happy. Its like Theo was punishing you for being happy.

You were sat in potions noticing Theo hadn't show up, and you were pissed. He was being selfish, this was a group project.

You go to the hospital wing to find Theo, but Madame Pomfrey told you he was dismissed last night but Cedric was still there. You looked over at Ced, noticing his curtain was shut, I guess he had company, you thought and just walked out. If Theo wasn't in class then there's only one placed he'd be.

You scaled the stairs to the Astronomy reaching the top as you took a moment to get your breath. You noticed Theo by the railing and you sigh.

"Theo you can't skip class"

He turned to look at you, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette as he looked at you. "Well I am so it doesn't fucking matter. Don't you have a baby to coddle?"

"Fuck off Theo, don't be a prick" You scoffed

"He's a bad person Y/N. Why won't you fucking listen to me"

"BECAUSE YOUR CHATTING SHIT NOTT" You yell at him.

"You don't even know what he said about you. He called you a slut. Your nothing but a hole to fill" He sneered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you jealous I'm happy?" You laughed at him, distressed with the situation.

"You aren't happy" He snapped.

"How do you know? How do you know what's good for me!" You stare at his back, rage building up inside of you as you yelled out at him.

"BECAUSE IM GOOD FOR YOU.." Theo yelled. He turned to look at you, his breath erratic. "I know whats good for you and its me.. not him, no one else. Its me, it'll always be me" His teeth are gritted as he looked as you as you stand in shock. "I love you Y/N! It's always been you. Every fucking waking moment I think about you, your fucking stupid coconut smelling hair! The way your lip dimple shows when you smile a certain way. I spend every waking moment thinking about you. I live and breathe for you Y/N."

You stand there stunned as you look down at him.

"Haven't I made it fucking obvious? I fought the fucking freak for you! Yes initially he did nothing but.. He called you horrible things.. I can't bare to see you with another man that isn't me. I think about you so much bella.. Morning, noon and fucking night, I think about you.." His voice cracked as he stared down at you before he took your hand, kneeling down infront of you holding your hand. "It'll always be you.." He softly kissed your hand.

Your eyes slightly glassy from the confession as you stand speechless.

"Please say something bella.." Theo looked up at you, his hands grasping yours.

You burst out into tears, ripping your hand away from him as you cover your face. "You are so annoying Theo- I- I didn't know you felt like this" You sobbed as you wiped your eyes. Your mascara smudged all over your face.

Theo stood up, cupping your face between his hands as he wiped your tears with his thumbs as he chuckled, a tear rolling down his eye.

"I guess we are both stupid.." He chuckled lightly.

"You're such an asshole" You hit his chest playfully, laughing slightly through the sobs. His hand catching yours as you hit his chest, before his lips crashed against yours.

The pair of you finally became one.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[swordsandholly]

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

[distantdarlings]

BACK TO YOUR ROOM // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After heading down to a Slytherin party, you decide to tease Theo a bit.

+ WARNING - SMUT! Fingering, masturbation, language, jealousy, degradation, Dom!Theo, brat!reader, Theo is a little rough, implied drug usage, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

OHMAMI - Chase Atlantic

- - -

The music overhead pounded throughout the common room with a force like no other. Every beat sent a vibration through your chest like a knife. The very ground beneath your feet shook with excitement.

The air was full of laughter and sweat and lust, all three of which were beginning to rub off on you. A smile crept onto your lips as you weaved through grinding, dancing figures. Perhaps it was the mixture of winter break starting today and the excellent energy that always surrounded a Slytherin house party, but you felt like you were on top of the world.

You took a sip of the scorching liquid in your cup, allowing it to sear its way down your throat with no regard for how you were going to feel in the morning. None of that mattered at the moment, though. What mattered was that you found your friends and started dancing as soon as possible.

“Hey! Over here!” Over the volume of the music, you hear a single voice call out. You turned in its direction, finding that it belonged to Pansy Parkinson. Speak of the Devil. You laughed and moved your way through the crowd to find your friends circled around towards the corner. The windows looking out through the Black Lake were pitched into the darkness with only the reflection of colorful lights and dancing students printed on them.

Mattheo, Enzo, Pansy, and Theo stood in the friend group, each with a cup of something in their hands. Mattheo looked bored, if not half-asleep, with a cup held loosely between his fingers and something else gripped in his other hand, something that you couldn’t see. He leaned up against one of the stone walls, with his head tilted back against it. Enzo stood next to him with a similar look on his face, only a dorky smile had printed itself on his lips. He wore a simple white button-up with the first three buttons separated. He looked handsome. Pansy was wearing her signature black tube top with a dainty choker. She looked absolutely wonderful.

“Pansy, you look incredible,” you laughed, looking at her full outfit.

“Thank you,” she giggled, returning your compliment. If you had a galleon for every time Pansy Parkinson showed up to a party, looking twelve times better than everyone, you’d be as rich as the Minister of Magic. And that was the complete truth.

“You look good.” A low rumble of your name had you glancing up. Theo’s eyes were locked on yours, ever so dark and wanting. A small flush crawled up your neck under his gaze. He wore a black tee shirt that framed every part of him perfectly. Must he always look so fucking good? You refrained from rolling your eyes.

“As do you, Theo,” you smirked. “I’d say that shirt fits you in all the right places. If I weren’t already taken, I’d ask if you wanted to dance.”

You were not taken. By anyone. And everyone knew that, as well. But everyone also knew that, as you started to drink, you had a particular knack for teasing anyone you could. With the slight possibility, you might take it too far. At your words, Theo’s smile dropped.

“Taken?” Pansy gasped. “By who?” She stared at you with wide, curious eyes, her hands pressed over her mouth in disbelief.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet,” you said, pretending to place a finger to your lips in a thinking motion. Pansy looked confused for a moment before realizing that you just wanted to get a rise out of Theo. She hid a smirk before turning back to the group.

“I think I’ll pick…Mattheo.”

At the sound of the name, the dark boy jumped up and found your eyes. His eyes were slanted drowsily and reddened beneath his eyelids. A lazy smile appeared on his lips. He wasn’t just tired, you realized.

“Yeah, baby? You pick me?” he teased, his head leaning back against the wall behind him while his eyes devoured you. The feeling that shot through your body was not one of an innocent nature.

“Mmhmm, you wanna dance with me?” you asked, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Theo’s fingers tightening dangerously around his half-empty cup, the thin plastic crumpling within his strength. You watched as Mattheo seemed to glance over to Theo before nodding his head and grabbing your hand.

You smiled proudly as Mattheo began to lead you toward the dancing bodies all around. Theo’s eyes found yours again, only this time his were flaming with fury. You sent a teasing wink his way before shooting him a small wave goodbye. If he wanted you, he’d better come and get you.

Mattheo’s hand slid around your back, positioning itself dangerously close to your ass, as he led you closer to your destination. His natural dominance in any situation had you blushing a bit. You’d always had a bit of a thing for Mattheo, second, of course, to Theo. Nonetheless, you’d found yourself throwing your arms around his neck once you were out in the middle of the common room. Swaying bodies surrounded the two of you and allowed you to blend in with them.

Mattheo’s hands fell to your waist, his strong fingers guiding your hips to the beat of the music and his confident smirk easing you into a new plane of lust. You felt as if you were the envy of the night as Mattheo Riddle claimed your body as his own in front of everyone.

When he spun you around and pressed his head right beside yours, lips whispering filthy things, you’d nearly forgotten about poor Theo. The same dark-haired boy coaxed you through everything, his body exuding rhythm and sex. Your head laid back against his shoulder, your lips parting in a sweated pant. Mattheo’s lips touched your neck ever so gently as he traced his words against your skin. That was the final straw for Theo.

“Mattheo, come on, man!” You heard a voice shout right next to the two of you. Your eyes shot open, and you pulled away from Mattheo slightly. Theo stood before you.

“What is it? Don’t worry about it,” Mattheo slurred. He threw a nonchalant hand at the other boy before returning a hand to your waist. You heard your name.

“Let’s go.”

“What? No! I’m having fun with Matty,” you protested. Theo’s nose contorted awkwardly.

“‘Matty?’ What, are the two of you in love now or something?” Theo demanded, fuming. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a little fun, baby,” you whined, your fingers crawling their way up backward to tuck themselves into Mattheo’s dark curls. You could practically see Theo’s jaw clench at the motion. Fuck, this was so much fun. An evil smirk spread across your lips.

“Why do I have to stop? Do you wanna have a little fun with me?” you asked. His confidence faltered slightly. “Do you wanna take me back up to your room?”

You finally separated yourself from Mattheo and sauntered over to where Theo stood, his demeanor faltering. You walked around him slowly, your fingertips brushing his lower back and the exposed flesh on the rear of his neck. You watched smugly as chills appeared across his skin. A smirk played on his lips, the feeling more exhilarating than you’d felt in a long time.

“Baby, you wanna take me back to your room?” you purred against his ear, your lips caressing his jawline. “You wanna fuck me?”

At the last line, he sighed deeply and his jaw clenched tightly. In a second, he’d grabbed your wrist and started dragging you back through the crowd. You glanced back and saw Mattheo already in the same position with another girl, working passionate kisses down her exposed shoulders. You rolled your eyes at how quickly he’d moved on in his situation.

Theo wound you through sweating bodies, tables filled with punch (possibly spiked), and finally, up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. His pace was rapid and rough, his jaw ticking every few moments, and his grip on your hand never relenting.

Once you finally reached his dorm, he’d pulled you roughly through, locked the doors with a quick swish of his wand, and placed a powerful silencing charm across the whole room. It was deathly quiet, with just you and Theo claiming the space.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” Theo growled, shoving you roughly onto his bed. As you lay against the mattress, arms spread out behind you, he stood over you. His eyes were blazing with anger, his breaths coming out in sharp pants. You thought this might be the angriest you’d ever seen him. “You think it’s funny to make me look stupid in front of everyone?”

“I don’t think I was the one making you look stupid, but—” Before you could get the rest of your sentence out, Theo’s hand closed roughly against your throat, stifling the words before they ever reached your tongue. Your eyes glanced up at his pathetically; the breath stuck halfway between your lungs and mouth.

“What was that?” he growled lowly, his voice reminiscent of a threatening tiger. Unable to form words, you shook your head gently. Nothing.

“Not so confident now?” he asked, his eyes teasing and mean. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes at his stupid jealousy. You raised an eyebrow at him mockingly, testing him, trying him even though you knew he was going to get beyond angry.

He chuckled menacingly, an evil smirk printed on his lips. His hand remained tightened around your throat, his grip unyielding. His eyes darkened significantly, their irises holding something sinister beneath them.

“You’re fucking done, little girl.”

It no longer felt like a threat, but a promise. You had to admit. A small gulp did slide down your throat. He was angry but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Turn around—put your ass up,” he commanded, finally relinquishing his hold on your throat. As inconspicuous as possible, you let out an exhale of deep relief.

You turned yourself around and, on all hands and knees, pressed your chest into the mattress, letting your hips curve into the air. You felt his hands survey the expanse of your hips, his skin warm and biting. You moaned gently against his touch.

“You want me, sweetheart?” he whispered. Just as a gentle nod passed your head, a swift slap came down across your ass. You concealed a yelp by harshly biting down onto your bottom lip.

“You’ll get me when I please,” he mocked. “You’re not going to be rewarded for acting the way you did back there.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes yet again at his ridiculous behavior. Theo suffered from a type of illness known as “thinks-way-too-highly-of-himself-itis.” It’s a very real disease and millions deal with it around the world. Thank Merlin he had you to keep him in check. You smirked to yourself at your thoughts, knowing he’d be even more pissed if he were a Legilimens.

“Any time today would be nice,” you teased, pushing your hips roughly against his front. As you brushed against his core, you could hear him suck in a breath. His hands found your hips once again, rolling himself against you.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he spoke through gritted teeth. His fingers traced up the length of your spine as he grinded himself against you. Not wanting to give him the pleasure, you pressed your face into your arm to conceal any breaths or moans. You didn’t want him to feel as though he’d bested you in any way. You were winning this.

“You like it when I do what I want like this, baby?” He cooed, slipping a sly hand between your legs where the tight dress ended. The tips of his fingers barely grazed you, his breath shuddering at the realization that you wore no bottoms. “Fuck, you’re bad.”

“Only for you, Teddy,” you breathed, grinding yourself against his hand. With every action you took against his dominance, you could practically feel his knees weakening.

“I’m gonna claim every fucking inch of this body,” he groaned. Behind you, you could hear him practically ripping his jeans apart, belt slashing against your skin in the process.

Once his jeans and briefs were dropped around his knees, he hiked the tight material of your dress over your hips and trailed two fingers up your core from the bottom to the top. The slow, languorous movement pooled your slick on his hand and around your entrance. When he felt the amount would suffice, he slowly pushed his fingers into you.

You moaned aloud at the sensation, your hands gripping into the sheets. His free hand splayed across your ass, working you back and forth on his fingers. He groaned at the visual, loving the way you melted onto him, no matter how much you fought and teased.

Before long, you were rocking your hips back onto his fingers with no help from him. He dropped his free hand and watched the show, amused over your want. No matter what he did, your hips never ceased, inching you closer to your orgasm. You were embarrassed at how little it took for Theo to push you toward your finish, but you were too close to care. All you wanted now was the end of your pleasure, despite how damaging it would be to your pride.

“That’s it, baby—fuck yourself on my fingers,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking pathetic.” His voice was a mean, soothing melody. It painted every inch of your brain and echoed in your ears.

“‘M close, Teddy,” you whined, increasing the pace of your hips. Nothing was going to pull you from him. Not even Merlin, himself, would be able to separate you from the god standing behind you, mocking you like a peasant.

“Such a good girl, such a good girl…,” he moaned, his voice cracking a bit. A brief glance behind you told you that he had wrapped his free hand behind himself and had begun to fuck it. You moaned at the visual, knowing that, as much as he picked on you, he’d prolong his pleasure in order for you to reach yours first.

A knot formed in your stomach that built and built and built until you were finishing around his fingers and crying out beneath the weight of it. Theo moaned as he came to his end as well, his pleasure spurting over your back.

As the two of you came down from your highs and your knees weakened, you collapsed against the bed. He laid beside you, a lazy smile on his lips, and a hand raising to push your sweaty hair from your face.

“How was that?” he chuckled breathlessly.

“I’d say it was alright,” you replied. You could feel beads of sweat slipping past your nose and over your reddened cheeks. The party below still thumped loudly.

“Do you want to go back to the party? See if Mattheo can do any better?” he asked, mostly joking. You could see the flash of jealousy in his eyes.

“Hmm, maybe I will,” you said, shrugging. He rolled his eyes at you, refraining from smiling at your teasing nature.

You rolled over and pressed your back against him. He wrapped his arms around your abdomen and buried his face between your shoulder and neck. You could feel him take a deep inhale of your scent and tighten his body around yours.

“I think I’ll stay up here with you,” you sighed. He chuckled a bit. “Until you fall asleep…then I’ll go see what Mattheo is up to.”

You imagined the look on his face as a loud laugh left you, echoing through his dorm.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!*

[misojunnie]

TRUTH & JUSTICE 𖣂

those who sin, must repent.

brothers jay and heeseung had always been the sweethearts of the school. heeseung; devilishly handsome, the brawn of the operation. and jay; stoic but sweet tempered, the brains. there was something mysterious about them; it’s what generated the obsessive fans. you’d always wondered why they never took interest in the girls who hysterically chased them—but you’d soon find out.

pairing: brother!heeseung & brother!jay x fem!reader (ft. sunghoon)

genre: horror, psychological thriller, somewhat inspired by girl from nowhere

warnings: violence, death, character death, substance use/drug dealing, bullying, all the characters are kinda evil (sorry), this one’s a little triggering!!, not really a romance, enha’s behavior and personalities are not reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen + mentions of txt

playlist: la femme ressort by la femme, is this real? by lisa hall, after all by alex g, cocoa hooves by glass animals, the perfect girl by mareux, tonya suite by peter nashel, mount everest by labrinth

word count: 13.0k

taglist ! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf @shixna606 @kumiwon @heeaxvhhoon

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: erm…sorry y’all...I kinda hate this... I actually spent so much time on this one and it's SO LONG too T-T but I hope y'all enjoy regardless, and look forward to more of fright night coming soon!

Everyone wants to think they’re a good person.

It’s in human nature to crave goodness. To delude yourself into thinking, regardless of your actions, that you’re pure of heart. This is incorrect.

The truth is that most humans aren’t pure. The scale of good and evil tips to the latter in most cases. Everyone has sacrificed something, someone, to get to where they are. Everyone has hurt someone to get what they want. If you have, you’re a human. If you haven’t, you’re a liar. The real question is;

What are you willing to sacrifice?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You had really, really, fucked up.

In fairness, your life hadn’t exactly been easy lately. It hadn’t been easy since you started high school, and it all began when you met Choi Yeonjun.

A long time ago, Yeonjun was your friend. The two of you had been practically inseparable, spending your time at the arcade, the beach, loitering at school. Then, something changed in him. He was distant and cruel. He joined a group who lived off hurting other people, skipping class and smoking cigarettes in the alley behind school. Suddenly, you didn’t matter to him anymore. More than that; you were his main target.

Your life became a tangled mess of violent arguments, name calling and stalking, brutal fights, and cartons of milk tossed on your head. You couldn’t go a day without being taunted, laughed at, cigarettes put out on your hands or your books. And every night, you’d come home crying, laying in your bed until the sweet embrace of sleep took you away from all of this struggle. 

Eventually, your brother Soobin had enough. You wouldn’t tell him what was going on, but he could sense it. He saw the burns on your arms and the tears in your eyes when you walked through the door every day at 4:00. 

One day, you came home silent. You wouldn’t talk, you would only cry tears with wide, traumatized eyes. You didn’t speak for days afterward.

Like you said, you had really fucked up.

After that, he fought violently with your parents to get you out of that god forsaken school. They didn’t care what you were going through, and they didn’t want to spend the money to transfer you somewhere new. But Soobin loved you, and despite the fact that he hadn’t made much money since he had left home, he spent the rest of savings to switch you to his alma mater.

Decelis High School.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You quickly realized that Decelis wasn’t a normal school. The minute you walked through those iron wrought gates, you felt an overwhelming sense of doom. Darkness. You had always had an extremely acute intuition, and it was overwhelmed with the repressed emotion of this school.

“Oh, thank God you’re normal.” you heard a voice speak, and you turned, your hands in your pockets. It was a boy, with short, blond hair and a chipper smile. “When the prez sent me to tour you, I thought you must be a loser.” You frowned.

“Yeah, thank God.” you mumbled sarcastically, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it, just reaching his hand out in a friendly handshake.

“Kim Sunoo.” he said, and you shook his hand reluctantly. You didn’t like him very much, with his toothpaste-ad-smile and blunt attitude. “Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n. Pleasure.” you responded, and he dropped your hand. “So, are you gonna tell me about the school or just stand there?” He grinned.

“You’re funny. I think we’re gonna be friends.” You hoped not. He led you by the arm, to your displeasure, first heading towards the courtyard. 

It was a beautifully designed school, with mosaic crests on the floors of the hallways and ceiling lamps that looked like they were from the 1800s. Despite your conflicted feelings towards the school already, you were curious about it. “This is the courtyard.” he gestured at the milling students walking across the cobblestone and grass. He pointed to two boys by a fountain at the center. “Those are my friends, I’m sure you’ll meet them later. That’s Riki, and Jungwon’s the student body president.” He looked around, before leaning in. “Huge stoners,” he whispered, and you raised a brow.

“Do you have any actually useful information for me?”

“This is useful!” he exclaimed, offended. I’m giving you the full rundown on Decelis High School. Trust me, knowing about boring things like where the nurse’s office is isn’t gonna help you get through the year. This is.”

“Agree to disagree.” you muttered, but he didn’t hear you. As much as you were grateful to have a friend, if you could call it that, this boy was getting on your nerves. Something behind you caught Sunoo’s attention, and his eyes widened in delight. 

“Oh, God. This is your first big lesson at Decelis High.” You turned around.

Two boys walked in your direction. One taller, red haired, his posture slouched with his hands in his pockets. The other slighter shorter, his hair jet black and standing ramrod straight. They looked like a perfect pair. The rest of the students around them were practically oozing adoration as they walked past, smiling kindly at everyone who addressed them, their fans practically in hysteria.

You felt paralyzed. You had no idea who these boys were, but you were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to run away, to flee from them. You had never had such an adverse reaction to another person before, and you weren’t sure why this was happening. You stood, pupils dilated and shoulders trembling, vaguely aware that Sunoo was asking you something, but unable to respond. You wanted to run, but you were lost in a trance, unable to move.

Two pairs of dead eyes latched onto you, and as the boys walked past, not once did they break eye contact. You felt the depth of their stare, you felt them reading your soul. In your mind flashed images of blood, the sound of a scream, memories you had buried deep down, and you weren’t sure why they were arising now. When they left your sight, you could breathe again.

“What was that?” Sunoo scoffed, and you shook your head, tucking your hands back into your pockets. “I guess you froze up, huh? That’s the average reaction.”

“Who were those guys?” you asked, still shaken by your brief interaction.

“Jay Park and Lee Heeseung. They’re brothers, well, half brothers anyway. Everyone adores them.” He crossed his arms smugly. “Seems like they have a new fan.”

“I don’t like them.” you said, your voice practically a whisper.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say at first.” Sunoo waved you off, and you looked at him sharply. “C’mon, let’s go see the cafeteria.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You sat with Sunoo and his friends at lunch. You attempted to explain that you didn’t mind sitting alone, but he insisted. Nobody should be alone on their first day, he said, but you weren’t convinced.

Jungwon and Riki were nice. You found them more tolerable than Sunoo, but that might be because they were more quiet. The only thing you didn’t trust about Sunoo was that he was a walking gossip train. And you had quite a few skeletons in your closet that you didn’t want anyone knowing about.

“So y/n, what was your old school like?” Riki asked, chewing on a forkful of food. You looked up abruptly, the burns and cuts on your arm beginning to itch, and you scratched them under the table.

“Oh, y’know. An average high school.” you brushed off the question. “Same teenage assholes everywhere.” Riki chuckled.

“You’re funny.” You wondered why everyone was saying that about you. You didn’t actually think you were very funny at all. “Do you miss your friends from your old school?” Your stomach was turning.

“Not really.” you said lightly, attempting to be as casual as possible. “I didn’t have a lot of friends at my old school. Well, not at the end, anyway.” The table went silent at that, suddenly awkward. You cleared your throat, attempting to ease the tension.

“Well, I think you’re nice.” Jungwon said, and you gave him a tight but grateful smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a lot of new friends at Decelis. It’s a big school.”

“Definitely.” you said, but you weren’t sure if you believed it. You rested your chin on your palm as the three boys discussed something you had no interest in. You wondered if the entire year would be like this, and strangely, you missed Yeonjun. Not the fucked up bully that you had grown to hate; you missed your best friend.

You felt a sharp pain on the back of your head, and you turned to see two pairs of eyes on you. Jay and Heeseung stared with unrelenting heat at you, before turning away in unison. You trembled. You didn’t trust the brothers, not one bit. There was something strange about them, something that the rest of the school refused to see.

Your old school had been hell on earth, but in a confusing, messed up way, you felt safe there. Despite what you went through, you never considered your school to be an evil place. It was an average school, filled with the cruel and unusual behavior of average teengers. It was in the nature of a high schooler to be cutthroat, you always knew that. But there was something more at Decelis than the typical childlike malice.

You felt something dark here. Like a threatening presence lurking in the corners of the hallways, skulking around the courtyard. 

And you knew you weren’t safe at your old school, but you had a feeling you weren’t safe here either.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Academics had always been easy for you. The work wasn’t the hardest part of school to you; the social aspect was a bigger issue. But you were hoping for a fresh start in that department.

You decided to take Psychology. It had always interested you, but they didn't offer it at your last school, and you never had the chance. Here, you were excited to learn something new. You walked into the classroom, and all eyes landed on you in the way they do when a new student walks in. You swore you heard a cat call from the corner of the room as you walked to the teacher, and you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, the new student.” your teacher said, smiling. “You can sit in that seat, by the back.” She gestured to an empty desk in the second to last row, next to a friendly looking boy, who waved enthusiastically.

He was brunette, with the kindest eyes you had ever seen. There was something inexplicably warm in his smile and demeanor, and you found that you immediately felt safe in his presence. You thanked God that you had finally been put in close proximity with someone who seemed trustworthy.

“I’m Jake.” he said, holding out a hand, then immediately regretting it and brushing back his hair, which made you stifle a laugh. “You’re the new kid?”

“Y/n.” you responded, holding out a hand, which he chuckled at and shook kindly. “Today’s my first day.”

“Oh, you poor soul,” he joked. “It’ll get easier.”

“It hasn’t been hard.” you said, removing your hand from his.

“Oh. Then I suppose it’ll get harder.” he said with a smile that didn’t match his statement, and you smiled in return. You liked Jake rather immediately.

“Is it that bad?”

“Not so bad, I suppose.” he glanced at the sleeve of your shirt, which had rolled up to reveal three circle shaped burns on your forearm. You rolled it back down insecurely. “Can I ask how you got those?”

“Cigarettes.” you replied bluntly.

“Wow. How’d that happen?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” He immediately retracted, a sheepish expression on his face as he strummed his fingers on the desk self-consciously.

“Sorry, that was rude. People tell me I talk too much.” You laughed. He smiled again, and his smile was like a warm ray of sunshine. You immediately felt calmer in his presence, and you wondered if he had this effect on everyone.

“It’s okay. People tell me I don’t talk enough.” He grinned at that, before your teacher gave a pointed, icy look at your table, and you both went silent, exchanging furtive, amused glances.

“Hey.” he whispered when the teacher looked away. “You should have lunch with me and my friends sometime. I know what it’s like to be the new kid.” It made sense. You sensed the accent on his tongue immediately upon meeting, and felt a genuine kindness in his offer that was compelling. So you agreed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It seemed like everyone liked Jake as much as you did.

As he walked down the halls, he garnered waves from just about everyone, bright smiles and chipper greetings as he kindly reciprocated every gesture sent in his direction. Hello’s and how are you’s resounded through the hall as you walked together, your hands shoved deep in your pockets. You wondered how Jake had so easily transitioned from an unknown new kid to a world class heartthrob.

Another thing you noticed was that everyone was kinder to you in Jake’s presence. Before, nobody had really noticed you, and if they did, they didn’t say anything. But now, it seemed like the student body had collectively agreed you were worth paying attention to.

“The new girl is so pretty.” you heard a girl whisper as you strode past, and you stifled a smile.

“Think she’s single?” a boy responded. You tried to tune out the compliments, but you had been deprived of kindness for a long time. It made you feel good to be loved.

“They like you.” Jake whispered, his voice low to avoid eavesdropping.

“Thank God.” you responded, relieved, and he smiled at that.

It seemed like Jake actually cared about you. He wanted you to feel welcome, likely because he went through the same process, and he knew how hard it could be to be friendless in a new environment. And you were more than grateful for that.

Again, you felt the stare of those dead eyes before you saw them, and you turned to see Jay and Heeseung walking behind you. You flinched at their presence, wondering how they had gotten so close without making a sound. Jake noticed your shift in attention, and turned around as well, a bright grin overcoming his face.

“What’s up guys?” he said, the three men greeting each other in friendly handshakes. “Have you met the new girl? This is y/n.”

You desperately didn’t want to talk to them, but it seemed you had no choice. They looked at you in unison, and you wondered if they did everything at the same time. It was as if they were linked by more than blood, by consciousness.

“Hey.” they said, also in unison.

“Nice to meet you.” you mustered a reply.

“Pleasure’s all ours.” Heeseung said, and Jay nodded along, both of them standing with their hands in their pockets, Heeseung slouching and Jay with his stiff posture, as usual. “I hope the school’s being kind to you.”

“So far, so good.” you said nervously.

“Y/n’s gonna have lunch with me today. You’re welcome to drop by.” Jake said sweetly, and they looked at each other, before they both smiled, somehow darkening the room even with a bright grin on their handsome faces.

“We’d love to.”

You were nervous for lunch today. Before, your only worries had been Sunoo blabbing your ear off; but there was something much more nefarious happening.

Yesterday, you were nervous, but today something bigger was happening, you could sense it in the background of every furtive glance and dark smile. Something bad was going to happen today. Your gut was telling you, and your gut was rarely wrong.

“Sunghoon, meet y/n.” Jake said, gesturing to a dark haired boy who was seated under a large willow tree on the border of the courtyard. “She’s new here.”

“So I’ve heard.” he said, assessing you with sharp eyes before looking back down at his lap. He had a large piece of parchment sitting on his legs, a brush covered in dark ink in his hand. He was practicing calligraphy, and the beauty of it contrasted his ugly demeanor. “Charmed.”

You felt a strange energy from Sunghoon. He was Jake’s complete opposite; cold, frightening, and with eyes full of ice and disinterest. He didn’t seem like the kind of boy Jake would be friends with, but then again, you didn’t know much about Jake at all.

“Hi.” you finally responded, and he looked up again, raising a brow.

“Are you having lunch with us?”

“Be nice, Sunghoon.” Jake warned with a pointed look. He turned to you. “Sunghoon isn’t good with strangers, but he means well, I promise.” Sunghoon glared at his friend, who smiled innocently. “He’s actually just shy.”

“I’m really not.” Sunghoon replied sharply, turning his attention back to his calligraphy. You weren’t sure if he made you amused or anxious. Jake sat down under the shade of the tree and patted the spot next to him, so you sat.

Lunch was peaceful. The majority of it, anyway. You and Jake chatted, and Sunghoon gradually warmed up, if only slightly. In the last ten minutes of your break, he started joining the conversation, commenting casually as he stroked his brush across the ink stained paper.

It was nice. Too nice, because you were inevitably interrupted.

The brothers skulked towards you, each in their neatly ironed uniforms with morbid expressions, and you sighed reproachfully. You knew the day was going too well.

“How’s it going?” Jake said brightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

“Just groovy.” Heeseung replied, and you scrunched your nose. You hadn’t heard someone say the word ‘groovy’ since the last time you watched a movie from the 80’s, which was a long time ago. “Hey, y/n.”

“Hey.” you responded, surprised that he addressed you. They both sat down, not next to Jake as he had gestured, but across from you instead.

“How’s school been?” Jay asked inquisitively.

“It’s been fine.” You were curious as to why they wanted to know, but you attempted to brush it off. You still felt extremely stiff in their presence.

“Making friends? Spilling secrets?” Heeseung continued, and you raised a brow.

“I suppose.” He smiled, a toothy smile that you certainly didn’t trust.

“That’s good. It’s nice to meet people you can be vulnerable around.”

“Being vulnerable is good.” Jay added. You found their behavior strange, but Jake and Sunghoon didn’t seem to share your concerns, Jake just listening attentively while Sunghoon continued with his calligraphy. You seemed like you were the only person who found them off putting, and you wondered if you were being paranoid.

“Well, we’re always here if you want to share some war stories.” Jay commented, the two of them simultaneously readying themselves to leave.

“Sorry we can’t stay,” Heeseung apologized. “We have to make it to the locker rooms before class starts.”

“Do you play a sport?” you asked before you could think. They both smiled.

“No,” Jay said. “We just clean up.” And with that, they were gone, walking down the grass, drowned out by the sudden chatter of their fans.

“They’re odd.” you mused, and Jake laughed.

“Yeah, they’re kind of a hive mind.”

“You get used to it.” Sunghoon said, his eyes still on his paper. You frowned, crossing your legs as you watched their backs fade into the crowds.

“That’s not what I meant.” you said quietly.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

School had long been over. It was 7:00 pm, and all the other students had flocked back to their homes, doing homework or rotting in bed. But you were in the library, investigating the endless inventory of books. You had always been fond of libraries; you believed they held a history that didn’t exist in other parts of a school.

Eventually, you became bored with reading and decided to explore. Decelis had no security, which was fortunate for you, as the school had been technically closed for the past three hours. The gates had been chained closed, the electricity off as the sky darkened. You used a flashlight from your bag to illuminate the darkened hallways.

You had never been to the east wing. All your classes were located in the west, and other than classrooms, the only other thing in the east was the gym. It was of no interest to you, but you figured you might as well make yourself familiar with the school in the minimal time you had alone.

You remembered what Jay had said about the locker rooms at lunch that day.

No, we just clean up.

The door to the locker room creaked as you opened it. The room’s expanse was wide, much wider than you’d think by looking from the outside, and you felt you could get lost in the winding rows of metal lockers.

You heard a clanging sound. Then a shout, and it sounded oddly familiar. You immediately froze. You didn’t think anyone else was in the school at this hour. Your shoulders began to shake as you heard the shouts continue, morphing into painful sounding wails, the sound of clanging persisting. Pure terror ran through your body in waves. You didn’t know whether to rush in and help or to run, but your body moved regardless of what your brain told you, walking speedily towards the sound. And what you saw froze made you seize up with fear, a blood curdling scream escaping your mouth before you could stop it.

Jake was dead. You were nearly certain of it as he bled out on the marbled floor, gurgling emerging from his throat as he took his final breaths, before growing still. Blood pooled around his body, soaking through his clothes, and you barely recognized his handsome face underneath the open wounds on his head. And standing over him were two sets of dead eyes, laser focused on you.

You were paralyzed, completely petrified as tears washed down your face, grief stricken although you knew him only for a day. Your only friend was dead, and it was all their fault.

You knew from the beginning that there was something off about them.

Heeseung was holding a crowbar, Jay with a baseball bat. They both dripped with blood, the sound of the droplets hitting the tile floor being the only sound as you froze in fear. You tried to take a step back but they only grew closer.

“Please.” you whimpered quietly.

“What? Are you afraid?” Heeseung whispered, and you didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you.” Jay said, but there was a cruel dissonance to his voice that you didn’t trust.

“Jake,” you sobbed, your chest heaving with deep breaths as you attempted to steady yourself. You felt dizzy. “Why Jake?”

“He saw something he shouldn’t have.” Heeseung said, and the calm stillness of his voice made you petrified.

“Please, I won’t tell anyone.” you said quietly, your voice breaking. “I’ll leave and I’ll pretend nothing ever happened. I swear.”

“Of course you will.” Jay said with a sharp toothed smile. They both walked towards you, and you backed up until your back hit a wall of lockers. You braced yourself as they stopped a foot away, their weapons still soaked in blood and gripped tightly in their hands.

“Don’t worry.” Heeseung said. “We’re not gonna kill you just yet.” A tear ran down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his hand. “Keep quiet. We’ll see you soon.” Then they backed away, Heeseung first, then Jay as they approached Jake’s body.

“Now shoo.” Jay said, and they both smiled as they watched you run out of the locker rooms and out of the school, the wind flying in your hair as you cried, running as fast as you could until your legs stopped working.

You didn’t know it then, but from then on, you were in the brothers’ palms.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You didn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Soobin was worried that you had already given up on school, but you told him you had the flu, and he wasn’t going to disagree. You stayed in your bed all day, buried under your covers and desperately hoping to forget the image of Jake, dead on the floor.

You kept your promise and didn’t alert the police, despite your guilty conscience. You felt horrible that you were abandoning the only person who had been kind to you since you arrived, but you tried to put it out of your mind, which proved difficult.

After four days at home, four days of guilt, four days of imploring with your brother to drop out, you returned to Decelis.

“Where the hell have you been?” Sunoo exclaimed the minute you walked through the gates, and you cursed his bad timing. “It’s been four days.”

“I got sick.” He looked at you skeptically but didn’t argue.

“You missed some huge news. You know that kid named Jake?” Your blood turned to ice. “Apparently he went totally off the map for days, and then they found his body yesterday in a sewer in the next town over.” You resisted the urge to throw up.

“Is that so?”

“Weren’t you friends? I saw you having lunch the other day.” You looked away, biting your lower lip as you fought down tears. The memory haunted you, the image of his blood stained face and the unforgiving gaze of the two men who killed him.

“No, I didn’t know him that well.” As if summoned by the mere thought of their faces, you felt their presence, and you whipped around to see the brothers behind you.

Jay and Heeseung looked nothing like they did four nights ago. Then, they had been menacing, with eyes of fire and low, growling voices. Now, they were smiling happily, with sunshine in their voice as they addressed you,

“Hey, y/n.” Heeseung chirped brightly. You felt paralyzed with fear. Every bone and muscle in your body wanted to run away desperately, but you knew you couldn’t tip Sunoo off. And God knows what would happen to you if you exposed their secret.

“Let’s chat.” Jay cooed. Sunoo looked shocked. He couldn’t believe that it had taken you less than a week to cozy up with the most desirable boys in school.

“Fine.” you said quietly. You knew you couldn’t say no to them, so you let them escort you away, one on each side, Jay on the right and Heeseung on the left. You glanced back at Sunoo with a pleading look, and he was wide eyed. 

He thought you were the luckiest girl in the world. You thought you must have the worst luck ever.

Heeseung and Jay brought you behind the school, down a set of stairs you didn’t even know existed. They led to a basement area, stocked with brooms, buckets, and other cleaning supplies. The floor was sudsy and damp from whatever had been cleaned the night before. Jay pulled on the chain of a lamp, the room illuminating.

“We need to talk about what you saw.” You gulped. A desperate part of you had hoped that night was a bad dream. Neither of them spoke, and you grew agitated.

“What?” you snapped, and Heeseung chuckled.

“Don’t get impatient.” Jay said, and you shut your mouth tightly.

“Aw, be nice.” Heeseung said, patting his brother on the back, to which the latter glared. “She’s probably just confused.”

“I am. I am very, very confused. And terrified.” you said, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could think. You didn’t know what it was about them, but you felt compelled to tell them exactly what you were thinking. Heeseung laughed.

“Well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t a bad dream. We did kill Jake. And yes, we dumped him in a sewer a couple miles away.” You felt a chill run up your spine at the casual way he said it, like he wasn’t talking about killing another human being.

“I don’t understand.” “We create balance in the school.” Jay said plainly. “Our job is to make sure that people are punished when something goes wrong. Jake happened to see something he shouldn’t have. It was a casualty. We didn’t enjoy doing it.”

“He’s a nice boy.” Heeseung added, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“So who gave you this job? Who made you justice-serving vigilantes?” You were afraid to mouth off to them, afraid of what they might do, but they just laughed at you, as if they were both in on a joke that you didn’t understand.

“God.” Heeseung replied cryptically. You shook your head in complete disbelief.

“We’ll let you in on a secret.” Jay said, leaning in, and you did as well, like your body moved with a mind of its own. “This school has a dark history. Things happen here that don’t typically happen elsewhere.” You felt almost proud of yourself for your good instincts, but that prideful feeling immediately faded upon the next thing he said. “Something happened to us, a long time ago. Something very bad. And ever since then, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to punish the people that hurt others.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“That’s for you to find out.” Heeseung said.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll report you?” They both looked at each other briefly, before laughing uproariously, a belly-laugh that made you startle.

“You won’t.” Heeseung said, still chuckling. “And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.” You looked at him, utterly puzzled.

“That’s the good thing about our job.” Jay smiled as he spoke. “We can’t get caught.” And with that, they turned off the light.

“Why don’t you kill me then?” you said, still frozen in place. Although you couldn’t see their faces in the dark, you felt their eyes on you as they both turned their heads. “You killed Jake. What makes me different?”

“We’re not done with you yet.” Heeseung responded, then they were gone.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

After your interaction with the brothers, you immediately went to the library to find any information on Decelis available. Fuck class, you needed to get to the bottom of this. You read through almost six books on the history of the school without finding anything, and you clapped the most recent book shut with a sigh.

Moving to the computers, you sought an answer in searches upon searches of Decelis’ many scandals and controversies. A couple of bullying incidents, a student who died in the 2000’s, minor extortion. Nothing that gave you an answer.

You searched for hours before you found something of interest, and what you saw shocked you to your core. You weren’t even sure if you believed it.

Brothers and sport prodigies of Decelis High School found dead.

You felt your blood run cold. The website was a minor newspaper, only available after multiple pages of useless links. You read the article hungrily.

As of October 31st, 1984, Lee Heeseung and Jay Park, star athletes and model students, are dead. Heeseung and Jay, both talented members of the Decelis football team, were dedicated students, and both incredibly popular, according to their peers. They were believed to have no enemies, until they were found with their throats cut in their own bathtub.

Authorities believe the violent crime to be the fault of a fellow student, or a cruel Halloween prank, but no suspects have been identified thus far. Local police are conducting a full investigation in an attempt to find the killer.

The question is; will Jay and Heeseung get the justice they deserve?

(read the article below!)

You slammed the computer shut, gasping for breath, grateful that the library was empty and nobody was around to see. You didn’t believe it was real, it must’ve been a prank, a cruel prank that they were playing on you. Heeseung and Jay weren’t dead; it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

“Do you get it now?” a voice whispered into your ear, and you screamed, clapping your hand over your mouth. Heeseung laughed gleefully at you. The library had been empty a moment ago, and you hadn’t heard anyone come in; he had seemingly manifested out of nowhere. “I knew you’d find out soon. You’re smart.”

“Is this some kind of a sick joke?” you asked quietly, your eyes shifting to his neck. There was a thin white scar that stretched across his throat, and you wondered how you didn’t notice it before.

“I wish it was.”

“How… how are you alive?” Heeseung shrugged.

“I’m not. I haven’t been alive in a long time. I just decided to stick around.” He leaned in. “Haven’t you heard of vengeful spirits? Disembodied ghosts who stay on Earth until they fulfill their purpose?”

“Only in TV shows.” you scoffed, and Heeseung looked at you with amusement.

“Me and Jay are stuck here. We can’t leave Decelis, not now, not ever. It’s our eternal duty to right the wrongs that happen here. And trust me, there’s plenty to keep us busy.” You furrowed your brows.

“That’s a horrible fate.” He shrugged, but you saw a bit of sadness in his eyes. For a moment, he felt like a human to you, before that flicker of emotion was gone.

“You get used to it.” he said casually, a hand on the back of your chair. “It’s not like we have a choice anyway. Me and Jay just try to make the best of it.” You looked around, His raven haired-other half nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Jay?” Heeseung smiled.

“Oh, just taking care of something.” You felt a chill run up your spine. “You know, you’re the first person who’s ever found out about us.”

“Lucky me.” you sighed, clutching your head. Your mind felt like it was spinning out of control, everything becoming a synthetic blur, and Heeseung’s laughter did nothing to help, his taunting howling fading into the background as you clamped your eyes shut in pain.

When they opened, he was gone.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were a complete wreck. You were forced to reevaluate everything you thought you knew about reality, about the living and the dead. Your head was spinning with what you learned, and you sought comfort in the only person you could think of.

Sunghoon was still sitting under the willow tree, but without his companion this time. His eyes were red from crying, but it was clear he had attempted to hide it. His calligraphy was sitting in his lap, but the brush was still in his hand.

“Hi.” you whispered, and he looked up at you. His face was dull and gaunt with grief. “Can I sit with you?” He didn’t respond, but made no moves to argue, so you sat.

“Jake’s gone.” his voice was hollow.

“I know.” you replied quietly. “I’m sorry.” He sniffled for a moment, wiping his nose. “I didn’t know him long, but Jake was kind to me when nobody else was. He was a really good person.” You were unsure whether he wanted your comfort, as a complete stranger, but you couldn’t ignore him. You put your hand over his, and he flinched.

“I just don’t know what to do. I miss him so much.” Sunghoon said hollowly, and you were surprised to see the stony boy so vulnerable. “He was my only friend.”

“That’s not true.” you said, and he looked at you with red eyes. “I’m your friend. Even if I don’t know you that well. I’m here for you.” For a moment, his hardened facade faded, and in one swift, shocking movement, he pulled you into a hug.

You held him as he cried into your shoulder, your blazer dampening from his tears as you rubbed his back. Tears welled in the corners of your own eyes as his sobbing quickly faded, and when he released you, it was as if it never happened. His face was hardened yet again, his eyes a little redder than before.

“I’m sorry.” he said, quickly wiping a remaining tear from his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry.” you said with a tight smile that he reciprocated. “You don’t have to pretend around me.” He sighed.

“Thanks.” he said simply, going back to his calligraphy, this time his brush painting gently across the paper in calm strokes. You sat next to him, your back resting on the trunk as you gazed at the leaves of the tree above.

And for a fleeting moment, you actually felt peaceful.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

After that, you and Sunghoon were inseparable. It wasn’t exactly your choice; but it seemed that after Jake’s death, Sunghoon had found a new friend to cling onto.

You quickly found that Sunghoon wasn’t as receptive to popularity as Jake was. Despite being good looking and well liked, he didn’t have many friends, which seemed to be a choice of his own. He spent most of his time with you during the school day, painting under the willow or walking to class together.

You had noticed something about Sunghoon lately. For the past two weeks, he had been coming to school with cuts and bruises. Some on his face, some on his arms, ones you had noticed when the sleeves of his white uniform rolled up as he painted. You weren’t sure where they had been coming from; you had asked if he was okay, and he brushed it off like it was nothing.

You were eating lunch at your usual lunch spot; Sunghoon doing calligraphy and you reading a new book you had just purchased. Your typical tranquility was disturbed, as you were dreading, by a certain presence.

Jay seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with his usual stony expression.

“I have to talk to you.” You and Sunghoon both looked up abruptly. You knew the past weeks had been too peaceful; something was up.

“Fine.” you said, tucking your book into your bag and shouldering it as you stood up. “See you later, Hoon.” He nodded, looking back down as you walked away with Jay.

One of the many things you didn’t like about the brothers was that they gathered a lot of attention. It was impossible to walk down the hall with them without garnering stares and whispers of envy. Even a mere conversation could spark rumors galore, and the last thing you needed was people talking about you.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon.” Jay said, his hands in his pockets as you walked together.

“So what?” you replied sharply, and he looked at you warningly.

“You should stay away from him.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“He’s hiding something.” Jay said simply. “If you knew the truth, I don’t think you’d want to hang around him.” You furrowed your brows.

“What has he done?” Jay turned his gaze to you, and you stared into those dead eyes. The eyes that haunted you, that you dreaded to see when you came to school every day. The eyes that you saw in every nightmare.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” You shook your head.

“Don’t tell me he’s your next target.” Jay didn’t respond. “He’s grieving.”

“Everyone’s grieving in their own way.” he said plainly, as if he knew more than you, which you supposed he did. “It’s not an excuse.”

“He can’t have done anything that bad. He’s a good guy.” Jay abruptly stopped walking, turning to face you from the front. He had led you into an empty classroom, and you shuddered at being alone with him.

“People aren’t good, y/n. No matter how much you want them to be, people will always disappoint you. It’s in human nature,” he explained. “Most people are horrible. They inflict pain, they screw over anyone necessary to get what they want.” You looked at him with sad, pleading eyes, and for a minute he softened, and he put a hand on your shoulder. “You have to be careful with your heart. Don’t trust anyone.”

“What’s the point of living, then?” you said, and he smiled.

“Living is our curse. You only realize how much you want it until it’s gone.” he said, and for a moment, you saw him as the confused, unfortunate teenager he was when he died. “I would do anything to live again.”

“I’m sorry.” you said, and he shook his head.

“Don’t feel pity for us. There are thousands of lost souls out there without any purpose. At least me and Heeseung have a job. And not anyone,” he looked at you in assessment, “Not even you, could stop us. So it’s best not to get in our way.”

“I’m not planning on it.” you grumbled.

“Good. Then I need your help.”

“What could you possibly need my help for?” he gazed at you seriously.

“Just keep an eye out.” Then, as he often did, he disappeared into thin air.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The next day Sunghoon came to school battered.

You had seen him a little bruised, but this was an entirely new level of brutality. The entire right side of his porcelain face was covered in bright red abrasions, his skin blooming purple underneath the bloody gashes. Dried blood lingered across his forehead and chin, and for once, he had his blazer on to conceal whatever was lying under his clothes. His eye was black and blue, and the flesh swelled.

You trembled as you approached him underneath the willow tree. Classmates stared in curiosity and disgust as they walked by, but you paid them no mind. You had no doubt whose handiwork this was, but you prayed it wasn’t true.

“What happened?” you asked, and he didn’t look up from his calligraphy. “Who did this to you?” He sighed deeply, leaning his head back on the trunk of the tree, and you could practically hear his thoughts spinning as he closed his eyes.

Sunghoon was alone. He often lingered around the school until after everyone went home; it brought him a sense of peace. And God knew he could use it; his best friend died, and his emotions weren’t exactly letting him deal with it properly.

Sunghoon was an angry man. Although some would describe him as cold, coarse, or unapproachable, none would say he was angry. But he was; oftentimes he wanted nothing more than to hurt anyone around him. Everyone. Now that Jake was gone, there wasn’t anyone to keep that anger in check.

So he started fights. Usually the underclassmen; never the same person twice, and certainly nobody who was brave enough to report him. He took pleasure in inflicting pain on other people, the same pain he was feeling on the inside.

Sunghoon wasn’t a bad person. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he had to get the anger out somehow.

He heard the door creak behind him, and turned around sharply. He didn’t think anyone was still in the school, not at this time when everyone should’ve gone home already. He was surprised to see two familiar faces come through the door.

“Jay? Heeseung?” he called out to them, and as they stepped out and into the light, he froze in fear.

He had never trusted Heeseung and Jay the way Jake did. He didn’t trust the vacant, emotionless look in their eyes, their odd mannerisms. Sometimes they unsettled him, but he had always liked them. But now, that empty look had transformed into something much more terrifying; vengeance.

Heeseung was holding a crowbar. Jay was holding a bat. Sunghoon stood up, slowly backing away as they approached.

“Guys? What’s going on?” he asked, but garnered no response except for the sudden leap of action, Heeseung and Jay both swinging their weapons with all their strength, Sunghoon falling to the ground, spitting blood.

He fought to protect himself as the two men mercilessly bashed him, blood dripping down his forehead and into his eyes as Jay struck his head, sending him into a dizzy haze as he struggled to stay conscious. For a minute, it seemed like they would never stop, blood splashing the ground around them as they beat the younger boy, but then they ceased. They dropped their weapons back to their sides, covered in blood, with satisfied expressions on their faces, albeit one more than the other.

“An eye for an eye.” Heeseung said, turning to Jay with a smile that his brother didn’t reciprocate. Jay turned to Sunghoon and grabbed him by the collar of the shirt. Blood dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it off with his sleeve, trembling.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone.” Jay said quietly, and Sunghoon gurgled in response, his eyes wide, his throat rich with blood. Then they were gone.

You prayed silently that neither of the brothers were at fault, and Sunghoon finally looked at you, his brown eyes barely peeking from beneath his red skin.

“I got mugged.” he said, and his answer brought you no relief.

“Bullshit, Sunghoon. Thieves don’t do this kind of stuff to people.” you said frustratedly, and he sent knives at you with his eyes. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I deserve it.” he sighed again, and you raised a brow. “I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to go to the nurse.” He stood up, tucking his work into a folder and shouldering his bag before speedily departing from the courtyard, desperately ignoring the looks thrown his way by your peers.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him.” Jay said, his arms crossed, and you whirled, the two boys suddenly present behind you.

“What the fuck did you do to him?”

“Only what we had to.” Heeseung replied with satisfaction. “I thought we were very clear about our duty to this school.”

“What did he do to deserve that?” you spat, confused and frustrated, and both of the boys looked at each other, then back at you. You were growing tired of their wordless communication, and being left out of it.

“He deserved worse than that. One day, you’ll realize that we were only trying to protect you.” Jay said, and you shook your head in confusion.

“We said to stay away because we hurt people like him, people that deserve a taste of their own medicine. That’s not the kind of company you should keep. Opening up to bad people means opening yourself up to pain when they eventually show their true selves.” Heeseung added, and you felt close to tears, you were so vexed.

“Please, just tell me what he did.”

“You really want to know?” Heeseung replied, rising to your challenge, and Jay signaled for him to stop, which he ignored. “He’s been attacking the underclassmen. He’s been beating them bloody, at least one a day.” You felt like your heart was about to stop. Why was it that every time you let yourself get close to someone, something horrible happened? First Yeonjun, then Jake, now Sunghoon. You felt hopeless.

“Let’s put it to rest.” Jay said when you didn’t reply, and Heeseung looked a little less brave then he did a moment ago, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We did our job. I told you, nothing gets in our way. Not even you.”

“God. Maybe it’d be better if I didn’t make any friends here.” you said quietly, and both of the boys suddenly felt pity for you, something they hadn’t felt in a long time. After a lifetime of pain and torture, they had desensitized themselves to the struggles of the living. But somehow, there was a pang of life in each of the boys’ dead hearts.

“Protecting yourself doesn’t mean you have to give up.” Jay whispered, and you looked up at him sadly.

“And you always have us.” Heeseung smiled. “Whether you like it or not.” Jay jabbed him in the stomach, the older boy letting out a grunt, and for a moment they were just normal teenagers in your eyes. 

You laughed. A genuine laugh, and their eyes widened. Heeseung and Jay had never heard you laugh before, and it sounded like the ringing of church bells, the dust off a fairy’s wings. For a minute, they reveled in it.

Then it was gone, and you said your farewells to the both of them. It was your turn to disappear this time.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Now that Sunghoon no longer seemed like an option, you went with the only other choice you had; Sunoo and his friends.

You remembered you had sat with them on the stone benches at the opposite end of the courtyard, and lo and behold, they were there. Sunoo’s eyes narrowed upon your arrival, while Riki and Jungwon greeted you with friendly waves.

“Did Jay and Heeseung run you off?” Sunoo asked sardonically, and Jungwon elbowed him in the stomach. “Ouch! What?” “Go easy on her. It must’ve been hard to cope with everything going on lately.” he said pointedly, mouthing the name ‘Jake’ to his suddenly sheepish friend, a gesture that didn’t escape your notice. You smiled gratefully.

“Oh.” Sunoo replied. “Yeah, sorry.” “Weird things have been happening lately, huh?” Riki said, and you looked at him warily. “First Jake, then Sunghoon… and they’re not the only ones.”

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously.

“Oh, y’know. Students dying, getting hurt-” Riki opened his mouth to say more, before suddenly stopping. You swore you saw Jungwon grab his arm under the table in warning. “Um, I guess that’s normal though.” he attempted to do damage control.

You assessed Jungwon and Riki with narrowed eyes. You carefully observed the bead of sweat on Jungwon’s forehead as he tugged on his tightly buttoned collar, the way Riki was desperately avoiding your gaze.

“Guys, stop it with the horror stories. You’re gonna freak her out.” Sunoo said, seeming blissfully unaware of his anxious friends.

“Don’t worry, I’m not easily freaked out.” you responded, taking a bite of your food as the table fell into silence.

Maybe Jungwon was nervous about his reputation, maybe he and Riki were actually concerned about the well-being of the students. Maybe you were imagining it, paranoia beginning to get to you, but you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be your last strange interaction with the two of them. You just hoped Jungwon and Riki weren’t on the brothers’ trail, lest they suffer the same fate as the last friend you had who discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.

Even moreso, you hoped they weren’t hiding anything.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jay was thinking about you.

That wasn’t common, not for him, a boy whose heart had died along with his body many years ago. And yet, he found himself wondering about you.

When he and Heeseung had first found you watching in that locker room, you were a threat to him. A scared, confused girl, but nonetheless a threat, someone who could reveal secrets about him and his brother that would make their job impossible. The two boys had agreed not to kill you then and there, but it was nothing personal, not a kind gesture; it was one of mercy. Temporary mercy.

As he began to spend more time with you, he saw you in a different light. He started to think of you fondly, the barrier around his lifeless heart beginning to shatter. He saw it in Heeseung too; in the way he looked at you, how his smiles turned from menacing to genuine.

It was dangerous for Jay to have feelings for a living person, you in particular. You were hiding something from both of them. Something big; a secret that needed to be brought to light, and a cruelty that needed to be punished. He just didn’t know what it was yet, and he could only pray these sickeningly fond feelings would go away before he found out.

Especially when their next targets were two of your friends.

“You seem pensive.” Heeseung said, and Jay crossed his arms, sitting on the floor amongst an aisle of bookshelves reaching a mile high. The two boys often sought quiet time in the library during lunch, where they could speak alone. “You know I can tell what you’re thinking, right? You can’t hide anything from me.”

“Shut up.” Jay grumbled.

“Someone’s grumpy.” Heeseung pulled a book off the shelf, flipping through the pages casually. In the past 40 or so years of boredom, they had each read practically every book in the library. “You’re thinking about her.”

“So what if I am?” “I wouldn’t get attached.” Heeseung replied and Jay glared at him icily.

“You already are. I can tell.” He didn’t respond to that, just putting his book back on the shelf. “She’s making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

“I’d suggest putting your feelings to the back of your mind. It’ll make our job tonight much easier.” Heeseung said, and Jay sighed at the thought of what they had to do that night. A job that had once been his savior from eternal idleness was beginning to feel like a burden, and he had a suspicion that it was your fault.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the endless killing?” Heeseung shrugged.

“I get a kick out of it.”

“You were always the crazier one, even when we were alive.” Jay said with amusement, but his brother didn’t respond. He was looking out the window as the sun began to float below the horizon, streaks of navy sky peeking out from the pink sunset. It was almost nighttime, and both of them knew what that meant.

“Time to move out.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon and Riki moved with the night. Their job was a risky one, and moving under the cover of nighttime made it considerably safer to do business.

You might be puzzled, seeing two angel-faced young boys in hoodies hopping the fence to a private school. Their limpid eyes and innocent expressions contradicted the nature of what they were about to do; but that was what made them perfect for the job.

Few students at Decelis knew, but when the night fell, Riki and Jungwon sold drugs to their desperate peers. They were punctual and reliable, which is what made them so popular on the drug market. They sold whatever they could get their hands on; weed, pills, etc. Most of what they sold ws diluted, low grade drugs, but they didn’t care. They made a shit ton of money doing it.

Unfortunately for them, Heeseung and Jay stayed at school all night. And it wasn’t hard to notice drug deals happening in what was practically their home.

“Fuck.” Jungwon said, glancing at his watch. “They’re late.”

“I wouldn’t expect Heeseung and Jay to buy drugs, y’know.” Riki said breezily, and his partner glared at him. “With them being athletes, and all.”

“They don’t play sports.” Jungwon said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his tense lips, lighting it, his hand cupped against the wind.

“Really? I swear I heard they did somewhere…” Riki trailed off at the sight of two men approaching, his eyes lighting up as he tapped his friend. “It’s them.” Jungwon took another drag before reaching into his pocket.

“Hey,” he called to the brothers, but his voice went ignored. They walked down the dark courtayrd towards the two younger boys, barely lit by the moonlight. “Jay? Heeseung? Is that you?”

Jungwon squinted to get a better look at the approaching figures, his eyes widening as he saw the weapons concealed in their hands. A crowbar. A bat. Both with crusted blood flaking off the surface, and two sets of eyes trained frighteningly on him. His instincts kicked in as he dropped his cigarette.

“Run.” he said to Riki, and the two boys flew across the pavement, the rapid fluttering of footsteps behind them as Heeseung and Jay chased them across the school.

Jungwon’s chest burned with fear and adrenaline as he ran, Riki at his side with wide eyes. Heeseung and Jay were right on their trail, their speed supernatural, and Jungwon braced himself as Jay reached him, his bat swinging through the air.

Jungwon hit the ground like a pile of bricks, the wind knocked out of him as his chest came in contact with the hard concrete. Before he knew it, everything had gone dark, knocked unconscious.

Riki was a fast runner. He had been on the track team his entire life, winning gold medals for his speed, and outrunning Heeseung should’ve been an easy feat for him. Yet he found himself overpowered by the older boy, who easily caught up with inhuman speed. Riki screeched to a stop, and so did he.

“Please, dude, I don’t know what’s going on,” Riki said tearfully as Heeseung tapped his crowbar against his leg, looking amused. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of divine punishment?”

“W-what?’

“Whatever comes around,” Heeseung lifted his crowbar, the metal weapon swinging violently through the air. “Goes around.”

Then it all went black.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were sitting in bed silently.

Your brother had gone out with his friends, and you would rather be alone than around your parents. And you were thinking, thinking about the night that had haunted you ever since it had occurred.

You were at your and Yeonjun’s spot. A graffiti covered bridge, in an abandoned part of town. Back in the good days, you had come here to talk about serious things, to ponder and cry when times were hard. Now, after years, you were back here alone, and you found yourself missing him despite how horrible he was.

Suddenly, Yeonjun was there. You hadn’t seen him this solemn in years, not without a sneer or cruel grin. He spoke to you, you spoke to him. He provoked you.

All you remembered was being filled with rage. Anger that had accumulated after years of ridicule, of hatred and violence. It was eating you from the inside, and you felt like acid had filled your stomach and throat. You wanted him to leave you alone, you wanted him to apologize, you wanted to hit him, you wanted to kill him.

Before you knew it, you were pushing him, and he sailed off the edge of the bridge with ease, his arms flailing, eyes wide.

You regretted it immediately, but as you looked down at him, falling in slow motion, you saw the eyes of your best friend. Those wide eyes, filled with love and fear and unspoken words as he reached up for you, before he hit the ground with a sickening crack, going still as blood pooled around him.

The memory of that night had tortured you ever since it happened, and since you met Heeseung and Jay, the haunting memory had only gotten worse. The guilt was eating away at you, and you had to tell someone before you exploded with the pressure of the truth. Then, you were suddenly struck with an idea.

You pushed your window open, ducking your head out and slipping onto the sidewalk before shutting it behind you quietly, running to Decelis as fast as your feet would take you.

After all, the dead couldn’t tell secrets, right?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The school was silent, almost too silent, the crickets and birds cowering. You walked around the perimeter, checking for any passersby, before hoisting yourself over the iron wrought gate, lending deftly on your feet. You didn’t know what Heeseung and Jay were up to, but you assumed they couldn’t be busy at this hour.

Your first thought was to check the library, but your gut was telling you they weren’t there. You shoved your hands into your pockets, the cold, lifeless energy beginning to creep you out, chills running up your spine. You turned the corner into the hallway, and your breath caught in your throat.

Jungwon and Riki were laying on the floor. Their eyes were closed peacefully, there was no blood around them, and for a moment you wondered if they were just sleeping. But the crusted blood on their foreheads told you otherwise, a single wound on each of their heads. You clapped a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming, and as you grew closer, you noticed a small bag of pills in each of their unclenched palms.

“You shouldn’t be here.” a familiar voice said, and Jay put a hand on your shoulder before you shrieked in reaction. “We didn’t want you to see this.”

“What… what did you do?” you stuttered quietly, breathless, and Heeseung grimaced, his hand on your other shoulder.

“I’m sorry. We had to do it.” he said. “The school will find them here in the morning. I expect school to be closed for the next week or so.”

“I wish we could visit you.” Jay said, but you ignored it in your grief.

“What did they do to deserve this?”

“They were selling pills to the students. Low grade, bad stuff. A student died from them, others are in the hospital.” Heeseung explained, and you shook your head, refusing to accept this cruel reality. Suddenly their shifty behavior made sense, why Jungwon silenced Riki from talking about the dying students. They were covering for themselves, and you couldn’t believe it.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Jungwon’s the student president, he wouldn’t do this.” The brothers looked at each other, before shrugging.

“Sometimes people do things that don’t make sense.” Jay said, and a tear dropped down your cheek. You were so desensitized to death that at this point it shouldn’t affect you, but you couldn’t help but cry at the innocent look on Jungwon and Riki’s faces as they lay silently on the tiled floors.

“Life is fleeting, y/n. You have to be kind to people while you have the chance.” Heeseung said solemnly, and you looked at him with teary eyes. You had never seen him this morbid, without an expression of amusement or enjoyment.

“You two are changing.” you said, and they both looked surprised at your comment, eyes widening as they looked to each other in confusion. “You don’t enjoy this anymore. I can tell.”

“It’s not something to be enjoyed.” Jay said unsteadily, caught off guard, and you looked back at Jungwon and Riki’s peaceful bodies.

“You didn’t always feel that way.” you responded quietly, and neither of their hands moved from your shoulder as the three of you stared silently at the morbid sight on the floor.

You were right. Heeseung and Jay had changed, and you had changed along with them. They didn’t enjoy killing. The purpose they had dutifully served was becoming a burden, no longer a distraction. They hadn’t noticed, but you had changed them. You had brought them a new perspective on life, or lack thereof.

Day by day, they were becoming more human. And it was all thanks to you.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

School had been closed for a week. You were rotting alone at home, without the companionship of anyone to save you. Jake was dead. Sunghoon wasn’t an option. Jungwon and Riki had been found in the halls first thing in the morning, no longer breathing, their eyes closed peacefully. And without them, seeing Sunoo didn’t feel right.

Jay and Heeseung had given you their farewells when you left the school that night, and you hadn’t seen them since. The school was an active crime scene, and sneaking back in would make you seem like a suspect. So you kept your distance—but they occasionally left letters for you a few yards from the back of the school, as far as they could go. Their messages of comfort and humor were the only thing keeping you grounded, and you wondered how two undead killers were the only friends you had.

Maybe your old school was the better option after all.

Today, you returned to school, and you were not looking forward to it at all.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Was the first thing you heard when you entered the campus. You startled at the sudden sound of Sunghoon’s voice, whirling around.

He looked considerably better than the last time you saw him. The bruises and cuts on his cheeks had almost healed, and his black eye had faded to a slightly yellow contusion. The larger wound on his head was covered in a bandaid. What really stood out were his eyes. They were a pool of emotions; hurt, angry, and confused.

“I’m not avoiding you.” you replied, hugging your books to your chest nervously.

“You are. You haven’t come to lunch in days, and you didn’t answer any of my calls when school shut down.” You wracked your mind for an excuse. You couldn’t exactly say it was because Heeseung and Jay had told you he was beating up freshmen.

“I was sad. Jungwon and Riki just died.” He seemed suspicious of your response, but he couldn’t argue with grief, so he didn’t. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his blazer, shaking the hair out of his face.

“Okay. Don’t ditch me again.”

“I won’t.” you said meekly, and he smiled at that, nodding his head for you to follow as you both began to walk to your next class. 

You had always thought Sunghoon’s smiles were so pretty, but this one scared you. Something was off about him. He was behaving strangely, and that scared you.

Heeseung’s warning rang in your head like the crashing of bells.

We said to stay away because we hurt people like him, people that deserve a taste of their own medicine. That’s not the kind of company you should keep.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

The bell for lunch rang, and you sighed at the prospect of having to be with Sunghoon, without an excuse. Sunoo never came back to school after it reopened. There were rumors of him transferring, something about being exposed for cyberbully, karmic retribution, blah blah blah. You were sure it was the brother’s work, but you didn’t have time to worry about it now; you were only concerned about being in proximity with the very person you were instructed to avoid.

Sunghoon’s face brightened when you approached the willow tree, and he set down his calligraphy to greet you with a hug, a tradition that you had never started. You then sat down together.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come.” he said, and you smiled tightly.

“Of course I came.” You took a bite of your food to stifle what you really wanted to ask him. Why would he attack your fellow students? Had grief made him violent? But you said nothing, just chewing your thoughts and swallowing them down. You weren’t sure why he had suddenly become so clingy, but you didn’t trust it, not at all.

“Watch out.” you heard the whisper of a voice in your ear, and you whipped around to see no one. Sunghoon looked at you sideways, and you sent him a confused smile, shaking it off. Were you imagining things?

“Stay away.” another voice whispered, and you knew it was real this time, you recognized it. Jay and Heeseung were trying to talk to you.

“Come help.” you said under your breath, hoping Sunghoon didn’t hear, and thankfully he didn’t, engrossed in his calligraphy.

The brothers heeded your call, and out of nowhere, they were towering over the two of you, their hands in their pockets; Heeseung slouching, Jay standing ramrod straight, a trait of theirs that you had grown to be fond of.

“We have to borrow y/n.” Jay said gruffly, and Sunghoon shot daggers at them with his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but you saw the fear deep in his eyes, the way his lips trembled when he opened them, how his pupils contracted in fright. When he didn’t respond, Heeseung grabbed your arm, sweeping you off your feet with inhuman strength, and you stumbled to regain your balance. Without warning, they began dragging you away, and you turned back to your forlorn companion.

“See you tomorrow, Sunghoon!” you called out, but he didn’t respond, just staring at you as you turned your head, practically flying across the courtyard.

“I thought we gave you very clear instructions.” Jay said sternly.

“Wow, no ‘I miss you’?” you asked sardonically, and they looked at each other, Heeseung releasing your arm.

“We missed you.” they chorused in unison, and you couldn’t help but laugh. After a week of being miserable, you were grateful they were able to bring you a sliver of joy. “Now, what did we say about Sunghoon?”

“I tried, I really did. There’s something weird about him lately.” you looked back at him, and Sunghoon was still staring across the courtyard, his eyes still finding you through the crowds of bustling students. Jay pulled you around the corner.

“How so?” Heeseung asked, lips pursed.

“He won’t stop following me around. He was mad I ditched him, he almost seemed…” you trailed off, but the intense gaze of the two men was enough to make you continue. “He seemed threatening.”

“Hm,” Jay mused, looking at his brother. Heeseung looked back, nodding, and you didn’t like the conniving look in their eyes. “We’ll handle it.”

“Please don’t hurt him.” you said quietly, and Heeseung raised a brow.

“Why? He hurt people. He deserves it.”

“I know. But I think everyone’s been through a lot recently. Please, just spare some mercy, just this once.” you said, and Jay shook his head.

“You’re sweet, y/n. Too sweet.” They both shoved their hands into their pockets, preparing to leave. “You need to be more careful with your heart.”

As they walked into the empty halls, out of sight from the milling students, they disappeared, their dirty footprints suddenly halting in the middle of the floor.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

“Tonight, we take care of him.” Heeseung said, a hand on his chin as he thought. School was over, and the brothers had been in a moral quandary the entire day, pondering amongst the books in the library. They were sullen.

Jay whirled around, brows raised in shock and confusion.

“Y/n said not to hurt him.” Heeseung looked at him icily in response.

“You’ve gone soft.”

“You have too. Don’t act like killing Sunghoon is an act of righteousness. We would be doing it for her.” Jay snapped, and Heeseung looked away.

“We’re doing the world a favor by getting rid of him. There’s something wrong with him, I can tell. I see it in his eyes.”

“We’re not here to do the world favors.” Jay said, crossing his arms, but he couldn’t disagree with his brother. He knew Sunghoon was scum, and he was a danger to you. They heard and saw everything that happened in the school. They could read the minds and intentions of the students, and they knew Sunghoon was going to hurt you, whether he intended to or not. And neither of them wanted you hurt, as much as they didn’t want to admit it. “You can admit it. I know I’ve grown fond of her too.”

Heeseung shook his head, “That’s dangerous.”

“It’s human nature.”

“We’re not human anymore. Don’t forget that.” Heeseung stood up, brushing himself off as he stuck out his hand. “We’ll call y/n here after school. He’ll follow her, I know he will. Tonight, we take care of it all. Both of them.” Jay gulped. He didn’t want to agree, but he knew he had to. He shook his brother’s hand.

“All of it. For Decelis.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Heeseung and Jay had called you to Decelis. They met you after school, telling you to come to the library at 7:00 pm sharp, and not to be late. They refused to disclose any other information, and you approached the gates nervously, hoping you weren’t about to be confronted with bad news.

You had only just entered the campus when you got the overwhelming feeling that you were being watched. You knew the sensation of your ghostly friends creeping up on you, appearing out of nowhere, no, this was different. It was more sinister. You looked over your shoulder, seeing no one.

Maybe you were going crazy.

“What are you doing here?” Sunghoon asked when you turned back around, and you shrieked, clapping a hand over your mouth as you practically crashed into him. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned that your instincts had been correct. But after you saw the look in his eyes, you knew it should be the latter.

“Are you following me?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and fear.

“You’ve been avoiding me. I didn’t know what to do.” he said, and you saw hurt in the void of his dark eyes. “Are you meeting with Heeseung and Jay?”

“Why does it matter?” you asked defensively, and he just shook his head.

“You’re smart. You know they hurt me, I can tell.” You froze up, and he took that as confirmation that his hunch was correct. “Why? I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, Sunghoon.” you said to placate him, but you didn’t mean it. You were frightened by the flat, emotionless tone of his voice, the dark look in his eyes. He looked nothing like the Sunghoon you knew.

“Since Jake died, you’re all I have. A friend wouldn’t leave me for them.” he enunciated the last word with disgust. “They’re insane. You can’t trust them.”

“You’re one to talk.” you bit back. “Beating up the underclassmen? Sending kids home with bloody faces? That’s insane. If I can’t trust them, I can’t trust you either!” Your breath hitched when he grabbed you by the collar, eyes flashing with anger.

“Let go of her.” Jay said, his voice hardened, and you heaved a sigh of relief. Sunghoon jumped in fright, eyes darting back and forth at the boy who had seemed to appear out of thin air.

“Where did you come from?” he asked in confusion, backing away from you as you ran behind Jay, seeking protection.

“Don’t you get it?” Heeseung’s voice rang through the schoolyard before his body was visible, manifesting himself only a few feet from Sunghoon’s face. “C’mon, you’re smart. You should’ve figured this out by now.” He tapped his crowbar against the ground while Sunghoon backed up in terror, Jay stretching his arm out in front of you protectively. You looked up at his stony expression, realization setting in as you noticed Heeseung’s weapon.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him.” you said, voice meek, and Jay didn’t reply.

“What are you?” Sunghoon stuttered, and Heeseung smiled, raising his crowbar into the air, so far back that it reached past his shoulder.

“Pray you never find out.” Then Heeseung recoiled the weapon, swinging it back with the strength of an ox.

You had seen the aftermath of Heeseung and Jay’s work, but seeing them kill in front of your eyes was more than you could handle. The sickening sound of the crowbar lodging itself in Sunghoon’s head and the way the light left his eyes made you struggle not to vomit, and his body crumpled to the floor, killed with a single hit. In that moment, you were reminded that these were not your friends, these were killers, with the strength of a god, and a conscience as dead as their hearts. You felt something you hadn’t felt around them in a long time; pure fear. And as Jay released you and Heeseung dislodged his weapon, you only felt it intensifying until it was unbearable, the brothers turning around to face you.

You felt yourself struggle to breathe, your eyes desperately avoiding the sight of Sunghoon’s lifeless body on the floor. You dropped to your knees, the concrete scraping against your bare skin. They didn’t say a word to you, and you noticed their tight grips on their weapons, Heeseung bloody hand wrapped around the crowbar, Jay’s knuckles blanching as he gripped his bat.

“Y/n,” Heeseung said, and when he said your name, it sounded like a farewell. “We need you to be honest with us.” You looked up at them silently, attempting to slow your breath.

This wasn’t right. This entire situation was off. Your head was spinning, and you felt like your heart might stop at any second.

“What?” you replied, your voice croaking.

“You’ve sinned.” Jay said, and you hardly recognized his voice, hollow and full of desperation. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and bile rose in your throat. “We know you have. Just tell us what you did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t pretend.” Heeseung said, kneeling down to you as he spoke, placing a cold hand on your cheek. “Just tell us.” You felt all hope leave your body as your eyes dropped to the stony floor.

You knew. You suddenly knew what was happening, and that there was no way to prevent it. In those mere moments before you answered, as you watched blood and memories of a still body beneath a bridge flash through your head, you wished your brother had never sent you here.

“I killed my best friend.” you whispered. You didn’t tell them the whole story, you couldn’t bear to, you couldn’t relive that pain. You couldn’t explain that you didn’t mean to, that he had tortured you for years before you ended him. So you didn’t say anything, and as you looked back up at them, their dark, matching eyes that you had grown to love had returned to darkness. Dead and unfeeling, just as the day you met them. It was as if you had flipped a switch in them, and Heeseung sighed as he stood up. Jay stepped towards you, and for a moment, you prayed he might forgive you, tell you that everything was okay. But you forgot that forgiveness was the only thing they couldn’t feel. So he didn’t. Instead, he raised his bat, saying;

“I’m sorry.”

Then everything went black.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

back to the masterlist.

[storiesbyrhi]

IT MEANS SOMETHING

Eddie Munson x Reader 1,606 words

Warnings: recreational drug use.

Synopsis: A short meet-cute featuring crossed paths, Argyle's weed, probable soulmates, and Fangoria magazine.

Author’s Note: Set in 1990. No Upside Down AU.

He is the last to get on the train. Patiently waiting his turn. Smiling politely at the other commuters. You watch him step off the platform into the carriage. He opts to stand against one of the poles, letting others take the vacant seats. He surveys his surroundings. It is at this moment his eyes lock with yours.

Instead of pretending like you’d only just glanced at him or nodding a casual acknowledgment, you look away too quickly. You feel yourself flush.

As the train finally pulls into your stop, you’ve used all your willpower not to look back his way. All that willpower amounts to little; as you stand, preparing to leave, you feel him staring. His gaze pulls yours back to him.

He flashes a brilliant smile, then ducks out the opening doors before you can clock his blushing cheeks.

You’re not a romantic by nature. Yes, you are prone to fits of fancy and the occasional delusional daydream, but you don’t find yourself frequently lusting after pretty people on the train. Beauty is viewed with a matter-of-factness rather than a force of attraction itself.

Some people are funny.

Some people are clever.

Some people are hot.

Some people are whatever.

And it isn’t as if this makes you less shallow or more holy than anyone else. It kind of just makes you a little more detached. Yes, you’ve dated. But there were never big, big feelings. No traumatic breakups. It had all been textbook mediocre.

It is all this knowledge of yourself that comes to the forefront of your mind as you lament the loss of the man in the crowd.

You track his fluffy hair through the station, but he is gone by the time you get to the city street. The sun is setting, a twilight glow making all the shadows seem worthy of an art gallery.

The man is gone. His dark eyes. Kind smile. His stupid t-shirt. What was it? The Burbs. That’s it. The Tom Hanks movie from last year.

Why are you still thinking about him?

The guy. Not Tom Hanks.

You walk slowly, in the city way too early for the party your friend from college, Robin, is hosting. Time to kill.

In a 7-Eleven you stand at the drinks refrigerator with too much consideration. Too much effort. Dr Pepper will always win over Coke. Flipping through magazines in the rack pulls you through a couple more minutes.

It occurs to you that the old record store a few blocks from Robin’s is open late. They have better magazines.

The neon sign sparkles against the darkening skyline as you turn onto the store’s street. Lured like a moth to a flame, you’re inside and pulling Fangoria from the stand before taking a second to look around.

There are a few customers browsing, one with a punk magazine ordered especially from the UK in his lap as he reads from the floor. You wonder if it might make more sense for the owners to open a library.

A music library would be cool, you think, as you look over at the counter.

You can identify them both.

The guy behind the counter has dead straight longer hair and one of the best speaking voices you’ve ever heard. Argyle works days mostly, since he delivers pizzas by night. He must be covering a shift for someone. Or maybe the night guy is late.

Opposite Argyle, leaning on the counter with a familiarity that tells you he has been here plenty of times before, is the man from the train. Though he isn’t facing you, the Dio patch and hair are a giveaway.

What are the fucking odds?

Fangoria back in the rack, you creep through the aisles, trying not to draw attention to yourself. When you get close to the counter, you listen to their conversation. They’re funny.

Argyle’s brand of humor is easy and irreverent. It’s how he ends up befriending everyone, including you and Robin. And, as it were, the man from the train. Train guy’s banter is far more purposeful, performative. He’s dramatic, or maybe it seems like that in contrast to laid back Argyle.

They’re talking about music but suddenly switch to films. Bill & Ted. Even more suddenly, they break out into impersonations.

It’s too late to catch your laugh. Far too late to pretend it was a coughing fit. The man turns around. He beams as he recognizes you. It’s almost enough to keep you there. Almost.

“Hey-” Argyle goes to greet you.

“Sorry. Hi. I’ve gotta go,” you say.

“See you at Robin’s later?”

“Yeah. Yep. Bye!” and you’re out the door before Argyle can think to introduce you.

This feeling is so foreign to you. You feel all gooey and icky, like maybe your skin is going to start to fizz and slick off your body. Stupid, pretty train boy, you think.

It’s still too early for Robin’s, so you detour to a bar and order a drink in a vain attempt to settle yourself.

Stupid, pretty train boy.

Four hours later.

“I jus’… Can it come closer? It’s too… too far away?”

Robin looks at you. If you look back, you would see the face of a woman equal parts amused and bored. But you physically cannot look away from the television. And the television seems to be getting further and further away.

“Quick… Robin… It’s going!” you whine. The television set is as small as your palm. You hold your hand up to compare it. “So, so small…”

“You, my friend, are so profoundly high. Argyle gave you that new shit?”

“Says try with pineapple,”

“I-What? Pineapple?”

“Says try before you deny,”

“Alright. I’m calling it. You need some time out.”

Suddenly, you are floating through Robin’s place. A conversation about whether you are okay by yourself floats along with you. Yes, you would be okay. You like rolling around in bed, high as a kite. The party is winding down anyway. You’d not be alone for long.

Alone, you play three games of I-Spy. The loser and the winner. You starfish out on the bed and make imaginary snow angels. Time passes. Maybe. You’re not sure. Then, you see the room explode into view. The light has been switched on and you yelp, diving for cover under a pillow.

Voices. The weight of someone being dropped into bed next to you.

Robin calling your name. So far away. “You alive in there?” she asks.

“Ah-huh,” you confirm.

Then, quiet. You emerge from under the pillow like a field mouse from its burrow. They had left you in darkness but for him, a bedside lamp has been left on. He doesn’t know Robin’s bedroom like you.

He is lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. In profile, he is just as pretty. You want to drive a little Matchbox car down his forehead and use his nose as a jump. Evel Knievel style. The thought makes you giggle, which makes him turn his head. He looks at you, blinking twice.

“I wondered where you went,” he admits. He rolls onto his side, tucking his hands under his head like a pillow. “Hi,”

“Hi,”

“Bit weird seeing you again,”

“Bit weird,” you parrot.

He smiles. “Why’d you get sent to the naughty room?”

“Huh?” 

Your answer, or lack thereof, answers the question.

“Argyle not warn you properly about the Californian stuff?”

You shake your head.

He laughs, so you laugh. He wriggles a little closer.

“Hi,” he whispers, sticking out a pinky finger. You watch as he hooks it around yours.

When did you move to mirror his body? When did he arrive at the party? Was he here for you? No. Silly. So silly. That would be silly.

“You’re getting small… Like the television,” you tell him.

“Oh… I don’t want to get small… If I come closer, will I get big again?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. This close you can see his pale freckles. The tired purple under his eyes. The almost-wrinkles that are born of laughter. Long eyelashes.

“Long eyelashes?” he asks.

“What?”

“What?”

You snort, giggle, lost and happy.

“I need you to know I did not follow you here,”

“Okay,”

“I’m friends with Argyle,”

“Okey dokey,” you nod.

He holds in laughter, so you do too.

“I didn’t follow you either,”

“To Vinyl City? But you were eavesdropping.” It isn’t an angry accusation. It’s not really a question either. Still, you nod. “I’d be okay with it if you were following me. For the record,” he states, rather emphatically. 

He watches you watch him. He makes you feel as if you are getting higher and sobering up at the same time.

“I’m Eddie,”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. Last I checked,”

“What’d you check?”

“Ah… Birth certificate?”

“Says Eddie?”

“Well… Edward.”

You giggle. Eddie’s heart flutters so hard it feels like nausea.

“Hi… Eddie,”

“Hi. Do you have a name?” He already knows it. He just wants to hear you say it.

You nod.

Eddie laughs. “Tell me your name?”

You do. Because he asked.

“So… Three times… Coincidence?”

“No,” you shake your head. You don’t know what three times he’s talking about. “That’s two. Two’s a coincidence,”

“What’s three then?”

You can’t remember. You shrug, which makes Eddie laugh, which makes you laugh. A repeated cycle.

“I think it means something,” he asserts.

“So do I,”

“Do you? Or are you just a little bit high?”

“Can it be both?”

Eddie makes a show of thinking. “It can. I’ll allow it.” He grins. “So, it means something?”

“It means something,” you agree.

End Note: I've been struggling to write post-Burning Yarrow. So, this was just a little something to try to get back on the horse. Soulmate meet-cutes are my bread and fucking butter.

I have some very vague ideas for a part two of this, but idk if it will amount to much. Lemme know your thoughts and feelings.

Eddie Taglist: solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[dancingtotuyo]

Part I

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Tommy gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: US justice system (it don't work, probably bad understanding of how it operates), mention of drugs & weapons, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: when I planned this out, I didn’t realize I’d scheduled the first chapter to drop on Pedro’s birthday! So happy birthday to him!

Shout out to @janaispunkfor beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me scream about this endlessly and shaping this world. Finally, @saradika-graphics for sustaining our fic writers with an endless supply of dividers!

Words: 4396

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You’re asleep, or at least you should be except the phone is ringing and the bed is cold next to you. That’s a bad sign. It always is. 

A small grunt echoes from your gut as bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor. You can’t find the phone before it stops, buried under clothes you haven’t folded, scribbled crayon drawings, and bleary eyes. It starts back almost immediately.

“Tommy?”

“He called me.” Joel’s voice echoes through the line. “It’s bad this time.”

“How bad?”

“He asked for a lawyer.”

You press your palm to your forehead. “Shit!”

“The sitter is on her way to yours. I’m getting Sarah up now. We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Of course. See you soon.”  Joel hangs up. 

You roam through the laundry basket for a clean pair of jeans and an acceptable t-shirt. You run a toothbrush through your mouth to freshen your breath. You do your best to push back all the possibilities running through your brain. 

You crack open the door to Nathaniel’s room. Your two-year-old son sleeps tightly, his mop of black curls spread out on the pillow. You want to run your hand through his curls and kiss his cheek, but he’s the world’s lightest sleeper, just like his daddy. 

The sitter is there 5 minutes later, all too familiar with this routine for your liking. Joel ushers in a bleary-eyed minutes later. He tucks her into the spare room bed. Sarah doesn’t ask questions. She’s asleep before he can kiss her head.

You move like the well-oiled machine that you are. He grabs your purse, ensuring the checkbook is there while you say a few words to the sitter. Joel hands you the small black bag and a light jacket.

Doors open before you and close without you touching them. You and Joel are riding down the highway. The windows are cracked, the breeze playing through your hair as street lights play off the windows, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes fill with tears. You chew on your thumb as the thoughts finally begin to take over.  

You’ve felt Tommy slipping these past few months. You’ve tried to ignore it, excuse it. He’s had a hard time adjusting. This is hardly the first time he’s been in jail. It feels like a weekly occurrence at this point, but he’s never needed a lawyer. He’s never been held longer than overnight. 

“Did he say what they got him for?”

“No… he asked me to come alone.”

“Fucking hell.” You run a hand over your face. Tommy’s antics are aging you prematurely. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

“Says who?” You snap. “We’ve been doing this dance for months, Joel! I know he’s having a hard time adjusting, but maybe we’ve been giving him too much room.”

Joel sighs, letting silence fall over the truck cabin. His blinker clicks as you turn into the familiar station. You wonder if the night shift is actually going to fulfill their punch card offer this time. 

Joel has barely pushed the truck into park before you’re out of the vehicle, flying through the front doors. Joel is hot on your heels, not bothering to lock his beat-up pickup. 

Your ID is already on the desk, you don’t even have to say a name. The officer at the front desk doesn’t need your license. He barely looks at it. It’s all a raging formality. They escort you to a room, not a holding cell as you’re used to.

Tommy sits at a table talking to a tired-looking public defender. His head snaps up, eyes jumping from your face to Joel’s behind you. “I told you to come alone.”

“The fuck you did Thomas James Miller!” You say before Joel can defend himself.

Tommy stands to his feet, the chair skidding back. “You’re not supposed to be here for this!”

“I’m your wife! You call me!”

“Or maybe you should be home with your child!”

“Oh, I should be home with our son? And what about you?”

“I’m not having this fight with you right now.” Tommy throws his hands in the air moving his attention to Joel who leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What’re you in for?” You ask, not giving Joel a chance to answer. Not that he was going to. He knows not to let Tommy deflect to him when you are around. 

Tommy sighs falling into the chair like a rag dog. Stress lines engrave themselves deep into his forehead.

“Tommy…” A pit drops in your stomach. “What did they get you with?”

“A gun-“

“Without a permit.” The Lawyer speaks for the first time. There’s a roll to Tommy’s eyes. 

“And?” 

Tommy can’t meet your eyes. He shuffles in his seat. 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice low and gruff. It’s automatic, parental even.

“A couple grams of coke.”

“Fucking hell, Tommy.” Joel hits his head against the wall. 

“I didn’t- I never took it. I promise.”

You take a shaking breath, trying to calm your worn nerves. “So what are we looking at here?” You ask, eyes trained on the lawyer. 

You see Tommy out of your peripheral vision using his pleading puppy dog eyes on you. You square your shoulders determined not to fall for it. They’re the reason you’re in this boat in the first place. 

“Babe-“

You hold up a hand cutting him off, eyes trained on the lawyer. “What are we looking at?”

“Probably Jail time. DA’s office has been cracking down on these kinds of cases the past few months.”

“Is he getting out tonight?”

The lawyer shakes his head. “We have to wait until tomorrow for arraignment and bail.”

“Then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You give them a firm nod, exiting the room in a flash.

The Texas air wraps around you as you exit the stale police station. Joel’s pick-up is cool under your fingers, anchoring you to something.

This can’t be happening. You’ve felt him slipping through your fingertips for months, but you wonder if this is it if this is the moment you lose Tommy for good. 

Firm arms wrap around your waist. It’s a warmth you’ve become way too familiar with over the last couple of years. You turn around, letting your tears soak Joel’s shirt as they have so many times before. You twist his shirt in your fists as he cradles your head against his chest. There’s a slight sway in his movements, soothing your wrenching soul. 

“We’re going to get through this.”

“He had cocaine!”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to kill me.”

“Let’s get you home. Get some sleep.” Joel squeezes you and then guides you into the passenger side seat. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“What time is-“

“Lawyer said about 11. Wants us to meet them at the courthouse at 10.”

You nod, clearing the tears. “Okay.”

The drive home is quiet. You’re used to Tommy throwing out every excuse in the book, promising he’s going to change. The silence makes you want to scream. How do you go forward? How do you explain to Nathaniel that Daddy won’t be home for a long time? Jail Time. It bounces off the walls of your brain like a gong over and over. 

You’ve done this before. Raise your son alone. Tommy was overseas when Nathaniel was born. You did the first 3 months on your own- or sort of alone. Joel and Sarah spent many nights at your and Tommy’s home those first few months helping you through the learning curve of being a new parent. If you’re completely honest, you’re still doing it alone, but now with a shell of a man to look after as well. 

Joel hands the sitter cash and she’s gone without a word. Your purse and jacket are forgotten on the chair as you collapse onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. The weight of the night threatens to finally break you. 

“Here.” The cool weight of a bottle presses against your jeans.

“Thank you.” You take it, tipping the bottle back in unison with Joel in a quiet ritual. 

“I think I’m just gonna crash on the couch tonight.”

You nod, a humorless huff leaving your chest. “Just like the good ole days, I guess.” 

Joel looks over your profile, catches the wear in your frame, the silent tears slipping from your eyes. The rattle in your chest changes from sarcastic to sorrow and then a sob slips from your lips. 

Joel sets his beer on the coffee table, arm slipping around your shoulders. He pulls your loose body into his side. For the second time that night, your face burrows into his chest. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Darlin’. We’ll get through this.” His voice is soft and soothing. His fingers brush softly over your head down to the back of your neck. You fall asleep like that, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. 

You wake up to the morning sun, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch against Joel. He’s up, the smell of coffee wafting toward you. You hear him talking to Sarah and Nathaniel in the kitchen. 

You stand, stretching out your sore muscles in wrinkled clothing following the promise of caffeine. Sarah and Nathaniel sit at the kitchen table with syrupy smiles. 

“Mommy!” Nathaniel yells. 

You force a sleepy smile, kissing his sticky cheek. “Morning, sweet cheeks.” You dip your finger in the syrup on his plate, licking it off your fingertip making him and Sarah laugh. “Morning, Sarah Bear.”

“Morning, Auntie,” She says. “Your clothes are wrinkled.”

Joel’s hand lands on your back and a cup of coffee lands in your hands, sending warmth through your body. The hum in your body is automatic. “Thank you.”

Joel only nods, returning his attention to the pancakes sizzling on the stovetop. You sip on the hot coffee. Joel prepared it exactly how you like it, just like he always does.

 “You hate pancakes.” 

“Yeah, but the gremlins love them.”

“That they do.” You grin, sipping on the coffee again. “Ugh, it’s infuriating the way you come into my home and make better coffee than I do.”

Joel chuckles, flipping two fluffy pancakes onto a plate. He tops them with cut-up strawberries and whipped cream handing them to you with the biggest shit-eating grin. “And pancakes.”

For a minute you forget it all, the impending arraignment, your husband in jail for unregistered weapons and drug possession, the two children sitting mere feet away. It’s just you and Joel and a stack of whipped cream-covered pancakes. Joel who held your hand through labor and helped you with midnight feedings. The man who got you through Tommy’s deployment. The one who always calls the sitter and drives you to the police station when Tommy gets himself in trouble. You and your rock. 

The shattering of glass echoes through the kitchen. “Uh-oh!”

You spin around, taking in the broken glass on the floor. Orange juice leaks over the table, dripping over the edge. You and Joel spring into action, pancakes forgotten. “Both of you stay in your seats,” You say.

Joel grabs the broom before you, sweeping up the shards, his feet already protected in his boots. You turn off the stove, keeping an eye on both children to ensure you don’t add bloodied feet to your morning agenda. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sarah says, keeping her feet crisscrossed beneath her. She looked up at you. “Sorry about your glass, Aunt Bonnie.”

You smile at her, handing Joel a towel to soak up the spilled juice. “It’s okay, Sarah bear. I just want you to be okay.”

She nods back, curls bouncing around her face. “I’m okay.”

You sigh, staring at the pancakes on the counter. The whipped cream has melted into a lopsided mound, half of it turned back into cream that soaks through the pancakes. You take a bite, the flavors settling nicely over your tongue even if the texture of the pancakes is slightly off. For a man who claims not to like them, Joel Miller sure knows how to make a mean pancake. 

Your mind plays back to the nickname. Not many people call you Bonnie anymore. Just a few years ago, it had been a constant. Stemming from Tommy’s group of army buddies, they declared you Bonnie for always stealing Tommy away from their group cookouts and whatnot, and Tommy was Clyde due to his propensity for getting into trouble. For whatever reason, probably just to annoy you, Tommy had introduced you to Sarah as “His Bonnie.” So that’s what she calls you. 

Joel empties the remaining shards into the trash can. Several high-pitched clinks sound off until the shards settle. Your fork stirs the whipped cream and syrup together. 

“Pancakes are usually best eaten, not played with.” Joel teases, picking his coffee up to take a sip. His fingers graze your arm as he sets it back down, returning the broom back to its rightful place.

”You don’t even like pancakes.” You furrowed your brow, taking another bite. Whipped cream marks your upper lip. You take another bite. “God, one day you have to tell me your secret.”

Joel chuckles. He leans across the counter, elbows resting against the granite much like yours. He sips on his coffee, eyes watching as you stuff another bite into your mouth. “I’ve got many secrets, Darlin.”

You laugh, mouth full of fruit and cream. “You’re an open fucking book, Miller.”

”I think I could surprise you several times over.” He chuckles. Something sparks behind his eyes like he’s actually keeping something from you. You’ll figure it out. You always do. 

“These are delicious, Joel, but if I take another bite, I’m gonna be sick.”

Joel frowns. “You feeling okay? You don’t have a fever do you?” He presses his fingers to your forehead before you can roll your eyes. 

“Anxiety.”

Joel nods. “You’ve got a little-“ He motions to his mouth.

You cock your head to the side brain not picking up on the obvious signals. He sighs in mock exasperation. Reaching forward, he wipes the whipped cream from your lip with his thumb, pressing the excess to his mouth. The moment catches you off guard, something stirring in the back of your mind as you zero in on the thumb pressed to his lips. 

“You should go get ready.” He says as if nothing happened, taking your plate. “We need to leave in an hour.”

You nod, pushing back from the counter. The weight of the day at hand keeps that moment from playing over and over again on a loop.

”Daddy,” Sarah says. “Isn’t it time for school?”

”You’re going to stay here with Nathaniel and Miss Lacy today. Your aunt and I have some things we have to do.”

”Oh,” Sarah nodded. “Uncle Tommy things?”

You stop, sharing a look with Joel. You’ve tried your best to keep Tommy’s troubles from the kids, but it’s inevitable. Sarah is almost 6 after all. She’s always been incredibly perceptive and observant. 

“Daddy?” Nathaniel asks, looking around. Your heart breaks a little bit. 

Your mind wanders. When will he get to see Tommy again? 

Joel takes the lead when you arrive at the courthouse for which you’re grateful. You’re both dressed in nice clothing. High heels clack beneath you. A tie reaches around Joel’s neck. You hold Tommy’s suit in a garment bag as a guard leads you to an office-like room. Tommy sits at a table with his layer from last night and another man you don’t recognize. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation. 

All three men turn as you enter, making you feel like you’re in the wrong place. You can’t tell if Tommy is relieved to see you or not. A pit forms in your stomach, like you’re not going to like the outcome of this meeting. 

“What’s going on?” You ask. 

The door clicks shut behind you as Joel’s scent creeps around you.

”We’re talking.” Tommy says. 

“About?” You press. 

Tommy sighs, unable to meet your eyes. “A plea deal.” 

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. This is easier. It’s probably better in the long run, but you’re not ready to face the music. You prepared for court, not a plea deal. Not for Tommy to admit guilt with a stroke of a pen, not a judge in sight. 

“What’s in it?”

”Baby…” Tommy pleads like he wants to make amends right now. 

“What are you signing us up for, Tommy?”

“Two years and a half years. Probation after that.”

You inhale sharply. 

“It’s a good deal,” The man you’ve never seen says. “He’s looking at at least twice that if this goes to court, and he will be convicted if this goes to court.”

You look to Tommy’s lawyer for confirmation. He doesn’t make it obvious but gives you a solid nod. 

“You were about to sign it.” You look at your husband. It’s not a question. 

“Yeah.”

”I’d have appreciated it if you had talked to me first,” you say. 

“You’d have told me to sign it.”

You nod, barely keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah.”

The DA holds a pen out to Tommy. Tommy looks back at you for final permission. You give it, watching that expensive ass pen glides across the paper with Tommy’s chicken scratch of a signature. Your heart breaks with each stroke, crumbling a little more as he dots the I and crosses the T.  

Joel places a hand on your shoulder. The heat spreads, anchoring you to the moment, keeping you afloat as you stare down the barrel of being a single mother yet again. 

Tommy slides the paper back to the DA. He looks them over, tapping them against the table with a satisfied nod as if a family hadn’t been torn apart. 

“You have about 30 minutes before they come to get him.”

”That’s it?” You ask. “We can’t even take him ourselves?”

The DA shrugs like he’s being generous, igniting a deep hatred of him inside you. You don’t even know his name. He holds up the papers before sliding them into his briefcase. “Terms of the plea deal.”

You clutch your fists as he walks out of the room. Tommy’s lawyer slips out with him, and then Joel, leaving just you and Tommy. 

He stands and you finally realize it’s all happening again. You’ll be alone, worrying about your husband though this time for different reasons. 

“Baby, I-” He steps towards you. You don’t move offering zero indication that you register Tommy’s movements. 

He reaches for your hands, but you pull them back. “You weren’t supposed to take the Bonnie and Clyde thing seriously.” 

You fight back tears, turning so he can’t see them. “Pretty sure they both died.”

A humorless laugh leaves your body as you collapse onto a couch, holding your head in your hands. 

Tommy kneels in front of you, slowly peeling your hands from your face, taking them into his. Despite it all, you feel yourself melting into his familiar touch. It only confirms what you are beginning to fear. It doesn’t matter what Tommy does, you’ll always be here waiting for him. He is the love of your life and you would burn the world down to look into his sweet brown eyes and feel his skin against yours. 

You look at him through blurry eyes, sniffing back the congestion gathering in your sinuses. He gives you that crooked smile you love so much, and you feel better despite the weight bearing on your shoulders. The past three years have aged him ten. You suppose time has done the same to you.

Slowly, he presses his lips to your hands. “I know I fucked up. If-” He pauses, swallowing. His thumb plays with the thin gold band on your left hand. “If you’re not waiting for me when I get out I understand.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Tommy snorts. “Easily? Just last week you were yelling at me for putting you through hell.”

“Yeah, well…” You run your fingers through his black curls as you sniff back your tears. “You kinda hold my heart in your hands, Tommy Miller. I don’t think I could get it back if I tried.”

He smiles at you. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands creep up your thighs as he rises to his feet. Your back collides with the plush back of the couch as your fingers tangle in his long hair. Tommy presses his tongue into your mouth, a smile growing across your face. This is the first taste of your Tommy you’ve had in months, the one you fell in love with. 

The door opens, and before Tommy can pull away, Joel’s gruff voice echoes through the room. “Prospect of going to jail really puts you two in the mood, huh?” 

Heat surges to your cheeks. You’re not sure why. You and Tommy had been caught in much more compromising positions throughout your relationship.

“Gotta get what I can while I’m still a free man.” Tommy grins at his big brother, pressing another exaggerated kiss to your lips. Joel’s eyes move to the corner of the room. Your smile feels a little more forced after that. 

Your thirty minutes fly at lightning speed. They take Tommy before you’re ready. Any energy you gain from Tommy’s affection is drained the moment he’s led out of sight. You barely catch the look he gives Joel.

”Take care of them.”

Joel nods, gripping his brother’s shoulder. There’s a silent exchange between them. “Take care of yourself.”

 A clerk goes over everything with you and Joel. You’re given a strict list of items you can drop off for Tommy at the prison. You don’t process a word, the weight of it all falling on top of you. You came to the courthouse today expecting an arraignment and bail, not to be kissing your husband goodbye for the next year and change. It feels unfair like something was taken from you. 

Joel is the one who keeps it together. He always keeps it together. He asks the questions and makes note of the important things. He secures the horde of important documents held limply in your hands. 

When the clerk says your name for a second time, or maybe a third, you’re not sure, it snaps you out of the fog. Joel’s eyes are sympathetic as he holds out a pen. His single nod tells you he has all the information in his head. You can sign. You don’t have to think. You sign as flashes of Tommy doing the same filter through your vision. 

The pen drops to the table as you push back headed straight for the nearest exit. You feel like you’re in a dream. Joel catches up, tucking everything you forgot under his arm. He grabs your elbow, steering your aimless body in the right direction. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows the answer. 

You feel like a toddler, wandering and lost, relying on Joel’s firm grip to get anywhere. He opens doors and boots you into his pickup, patting the door once it’s closed. The car is warm from the sun. You fumble with the seat belt, but Joel’s calloused hands are there, guiding your weary bones. 

The ride is silent. You basket in the warm sun, head pressed to the window with your eyes closed. The world feels so far away, but you’re extremely tuned into the heat of the sun, the rumble of the truck on the shitty roads, the blinking indicator light, and Joel’s listless tapping on the steering wheel when the vehicle draws to a stop from time to time, toeing the line between consciousness.

This is just a dream, right? You’ll wake up soon and Tommy will be behind you, drawing random patterns around your stomach hip, or thigh. The past year of your life and the past 12 hours have just been the world’s longest nightmare. That’s all. 

The truck lurches to a stop. The engine turns off with a distinct click. Your eyes blink open slowly. Your stretch out, toes curling in your dress shoes. Joel’s tie lays haphazardly on the dash. His cuffs are unbuttoned, pushed to his elbows, and the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He still looks out of place in his dress attire, but a little more like himself. He hadn’t dressed this nicely for your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

Your eyes drift out the windshield. A neon light reflects off your irises. This isn’t home. You look at Joel. “Why are we here?”

His seat belt comes undone with a click, snapping back. “We’re going to go in there and get drunk off our asses.”

”It’s the middle of the day.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

”Can we just go home?”

”No.”

”Why the fuck not?”

“Because we have a sitter all day, and you deserve a night before the weight of the world falls back on your shoulders.”

”Joel.” You want to go home and crawl in bed.

”This is three times longer than his deployment.” The statement hits you square in the chest. “You need this. Give yourself today. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

You sigh, staring down the flickering neon in front of you. He’s right. You know he is. You might be exhausted, but it’s tempting. When was the last time you let go? Maybe that one good month you had after Tommy got back? When it was all making up for lost time and shit. 

“We’ve got a sitter for the whole day,” Joel says. “My treat.”

You inhale deeply, allowing the memories of drunken nights past to fill your brain. You can feel the thrum of alcohol already. You haven’t cut loose in a long time unless you count the nights spent at home alone drowning away the world after you’d tucked your son in for the night. 

Your fingers press the red release button of your seat belt. The metal buckle hits the window. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Joel smiles, dragging you inside.  

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