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wqnsho · 2 days ago

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resurface | kang dae-ho x gn! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after years of heartbreak and betrayal, you’ve learned to bury your emotions to survive. but when your high school sweetheart, kang dae-ho, unexpectedly appears in the deadly game you're also in, the walls you built around your heart begin to crack. As past and present collide, survival becomes about more than just staying alive *.✧ word count: 10.1k (yeah) *.✧ warnings: squidgame season 2 spoilers, violence, death, trauma, toxic relationships, cursing, fluff, angst. your number is 389. *.✧ note: dae-ho won against in-ho by just .2%! thank you all so much for the support. my in-ho fanfic reached 1K notes already, while 1k+ of you participated in my poll! I'm very thankful for the support :> i was in the middle of editing in-ho's fic when the polls finished, when i saw how close the votes were i laughed. luckily i only needed to tweak a bit in this fic for it to be done. enjoy reading!! >:) dae-ho is such a cutiee!! long italicized texts are flashbacks. masterlist | request here

“Shit, I just moved didn’t I?” Player 196 asked in a lighthearted tone after swatting the bee that landed on her. Before anyone could answer, she dropped dead to the ground, a bullet from god knows where piercing through her skull.

The area erupted in chaos as players realized the horrific truth: to be eliminated meant death. Others tried to make a desperate run for it, while some froze, paralyzed from fear, and you were one of them.

Your eyes trailed down to the corpse laying a few feet in front of you. Your heart dropped. That could’ve been you.

You should've trusted your gut. You should’ve known that whatever bullshit that shady man in a suit said was too good to be true. But here you were, paying the price of your stupid decisions.

The air was thick with panic as a bloody massacre unfolded before your eyes. People who ran got shot left and right, while those who stayed survived. Once it cleared those who moved, the mechanical doll turned around, its eerie voice rising in song. The players were too stunned to move. Only one person had the courage to act—Player 456. With unwavering resolve, they ran ahead and instructed you all to hide behind someone bigger than you.

The rest of you followed suit, moving quickly. You ended up behind Player 230—Thanos, a rapper drowning in 1.19 billion won of debt. You didn’t trust him, and your instincts proved right. As the game progressed, he shoved people ahead of him, ending their lives without hesitation. Yet, you had to give him some credit: the man could hold a pose.

One by one, players crossed the finish line. As the timer reached 0, the hellish game finally ended. You were shaking, your body trembling with the aftershock, but at least you were still alive. The guards escorted everyone back to the main area, where the survivors collapsed to their knees, begging for mercy, begging to go home. You could hear them, desperate, pleading. It was almost unbearable.

“There must’ve been a misunderstanding,” the square guard’s voice rang out, cutting through the despair. His tone was flat and devoid of emotion. “We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.”

His words did little to reassure anyone. Your eyes rolled at their response. Misunderstanding my ass! The chance of survival, of escape, felt more like a cruel joke than anything else. But before the guard could continue, a voice rose above the rest, sharp and commanding.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Player 456 called out, his voice filled with defiance.

Everyone turned to look at him, some surprised, others hopeful. You were no different. You hadn’t expected anyone to stand up in this situation. You didn’t even know what clause three was, you skipped that part and immediately signed the form, but there was something in the way he spoke that made you believe he knew more than the rest of you.

“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote, correct?” he demanded, his eyes never leaving the guard.

The square guard responded without missing a beat, his tone unchanged. “That is correct.”

“Then let us take a vote right now,” Player 456 pressed, his voice firm and unyielding.

There was a brief silence before the guard spoke again, acknowledging the request with a chilling calmness. “Of course, we respect your right to freedom of choice.” He paused, and in that moment, you could feel the hope that had been buried deep inside everyone start to stir. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”

With the press of a button, the room shifted. The cold, sterile space took on a strange new color, bathed in a soft, eerie glow. A massive piggy bank, almost comically large, descended from the ceiling, its mechanical limbs creaking with the weight. The sound of bills filling it echoed through the room, a surreal sound that only added to the strangeness of the moment. It felt like something out of a twisted casino, a game that didn’t care about the lives it destroyed, only the money it could accumulate.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91,” the guard continued, as the money filled the piggy bank at a steady pace. “Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated. If you choose to quit the games now, the 365 remaining players can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that?” Player 100 asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won,” the guard answered flatly, almost as if it was an insignificant amount.

You could hear the gasps of disbelief that rippled through the crowd. It was hard to wrap your mind around it. You almost died for that? The amount seemed insignificant compared to the terror you’d experienced. You could hear others murmuring, their frustration and disbelief growing louder. What good was 24 million won when you had been pushed to the brink of death, when you had witnessed so much suffering?

“Twenty million? You said 45.6 billion!” Player 230 shouted, his voice filled with outrage.

The guard’s response was cold, calculated. “The rule was that a hundred million won would be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, and more players are eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The answer felt hollow, like an empty promise that was meant to keep you on the hook.

“Then how much will it be if you survive until the very end?” someone asked, their voice tinged with desperation.

“As I already told you, the total prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games will equally divide the 45.6 billion won.”

A hush fell over the room, as the reality of the prize set in. 45.6 billion won. It was an obscene amount of money. The sum felt impossible, unreal. But at the same time, it was exactly what so many of you needed. The temptation of that massive prize loomed in the air, a beacon in the darkness. Could you really leave with only 24 million? Was that all your life was worth?

“So, if you’re the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion won?” Player 230 asked, as if the question needed to be confirmed, just to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood.

“That is correct,” the guard answered, his voice detached, like it was just another part of the game.

For a brief moment, the room seemed to breathe in unison. The weight of the prize, the gravity of the situation, pressed down on everyone. People began to murmur among themselves, the excitement in their voices unmistakable. The idea of that unimaginable sum of money—more than they had ever seen in their lives—became a tangible thing in the air. People who had been trembling in fear moments before now looked around, their eyes glinting with a new kind of hunger. The atmosphere shifted, the air thick with the scent of greed and desperation.

“So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game?” someone asked, voice laced with uncertainty, but also with a flicker of hope.

“As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote after each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point,” the guard confirmed. “We always prioritize your voluntary actions.”

The voting began, and the room filled with tension once again. Player 456 was the first one to vote. He stepped forward, pressing X without hesitation. Others followed, some pressing X, others O. When your turn came, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t hesitate. You stepped forward, pressing O with a sense of finality, the sound of the button clicking louder in your ears than it should have been. You placed the patch on your jacket, marking your decision, and walked back to your side of the room.

You didn’t look back.

You weren’t sure when you had made up your mind, but the choice was clear. Despite everything, despite the fear gnawing at the edges of your resolve, you knew you couldn’t walk away now.

Out there, in the real world, the debt that had dragged you into this nightmare would still be waiting. The vultures would circle, just as they always had, but now you could fight back. You could take a step toward something better. The thought of going back to the crushing weight of your debts, to the life that had led you to this point, filled you with dread. There was nothing for you out there anymore.

The prize, the money, the possibility of escaping this endless cycle—this was the only chance you had left. There was no turning back now.

As much as you sympathized with those who wanted to leave, You just couldn’t. Here, at least, there was hope. A sliver of it. And if you survived, you could finally break free. You could pay it all off. You could start over. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had a chance—one that you couldn’t let slip through your fingers.

Your gaze wandered to the others, watching as they made their decisions. Some pressed X with shaking hands, their faces filled with desperation to leave and go home. Others pressed O with grim determination, their eyes locked on the future, no matter how uncertain. And yet, the overwhelming weight of it all crashed down on you again, heavy and suffocating.

You looked up at the piggy bank hanging high above, its golden glow mocking you with promises of salvation. If you made it—if you became the lone survivor—you’d earn it all. 45.6 billion won. Enough to erase every debt. Enough to silence the loan sharks who haunted your dreams. Enough to leave it all behind and disappear.

But as you stared at it, bile rose in your throat. Was this all your life had become—fighting for money, sacrificing everything just to survive? Your stomach twisted as your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms.

Reaching for your necklace, you clutched it tightly, the familiar weight grounding you for a moment. Its warmth offered a flicker of comfort, but even that couldn’t silence the emptiness creeping in. Here, hope felt like a dangerous thing to hold onto.

Out there, you had nothing. No one. Over time, everyone had given up on you. Your friends had drifted away, unwilling to carry the weight of your problems. Your family had turned their backs, tired of the chaos and the shame. And then there was... him.

He left without a word. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone, as if you had never mattered at all.

When he disappeared, it felt like the last thread holding you together unraveled. You tried to move on, to make sense of it, but the truth was simple: no one stayed. Out there, you were invisible—a burden no one wanted to carry.

But here? Here, you had a purpose. As twisted and brutal as it was, the games gave you something to hold onto. Every step forward felt like proof that you could still fight, still matter, even if it was only to yourself.

You tore your gaze from the piggy bank and stared down at your shoes. It used to be white— pure. Now it’s scuffed and worn, much like you. Each scratch and stain told a story of a life lived in survival mode, clinging to scraps of hope. You couldn’t help but wonder—if you walked away now, what would be waiting for you? Nothing but the same endless cycle of despair.

At least here, you had a chance. A sick, twisted, blood-soaked chance.

And that was more than the outside world had ever given you.

In the midst of your inner turmoil, you didn’t notice someone standing beside you. They were looking at you, as if they wanted to make small talk yet didn't know how.

There was something bugging Dae-ho and he didn't know what it was. He couldn't stay still, couldn't think properly, couldn’t stay calm. He desperately needs a distraction, and he needs it now. But what could he possibly do? He can't just slap himself or shout. No way, that's too embarrassing.

The male thought deeply before an idea popped up in his head. Eureka! He could try and talk to someone! His excitement died down as fast as it came. Yeah, he could try and talk to someone but who? His eyes scanned the crowd. To his dismay, most of the people surrounding him were scary oldies, and he was not willing to take the risk. He looked to his left, spotting a full head of hair.

His gaze landed on you. You're young, he thinks— the white spots in your hair were less than those around him. He felt a little nervous, unsure of how to approach you, but he had no choice. This was his chance.

He coughed lightly, a test to see if you would notice him.

No response.

He tried again, this time a bit louder.

Still nothing.

He began to get irritated, were you deaf or something? Shaking his irrational thoughts, Dae-ho got ready to fake cough again.

Then, out of nowhere, an old man in front of him turned and glared, sending a shiver down his spine. The male stopped, his face flushing. He needed to stop being a coward. He steeled himself, like the marine he was before doing it the right way.

He then stared at your unresponsive figure with intense, wide, and bulging eyes hoping that you would feel his intense stare and finally look at him. When that didn’t work, he began chanting “Hey! Look at me!” in his head just in case you were a mind reader.

To nobody's surprise, his ‘plan’ flunked. Letting out an audible sigh, Dae-ho shook his head. He stopped being a wuss and garnered courage like a true marine. He should just approach you the right way, a single tap on the shoulder wouldn't hurt anybody right? Right.

As soon as his hand touched your shoulder, you ducked down and sneezed—an odd timing. He froze, unsure whether this was a sign to stop or if you were actually a mind reader and was avoiding him. But before he could pull his hand away, you reverted back to your original position— bumping into his outstretched hand.

He jumped back, startled. His cheeks flushed again as he realized he’d intruded on your space. In a sudden burst of nervous energy, he bowed deeply— a perfect ninety degrees, his hands clasped in front of him.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to... you see, I was feeling a little bored and wanted to talk to someone. Between you and me, I don’t want to talk to some old gray-haired people in debt. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you’re free to slap me and ignore me!”

He spoke in one long breath, the words tumbling out faster than he could control. Then, he froze, bracing himself—waiting for a slap, a harsh word, anything to tell him he had crossed a line. Or maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to give him a sign that it was all okay. The silence that followed was suffocating, hanging between you like a heavyweight, neither of you dared to break.

When you didn’t respond, he began to doubt himself. Was this a joke? Was he imagining everything? Had he pushed too far?

And then—

“…Dae-ho…?”

The silence that was there from the beginning stretched even further as Dae-ho froze, his heart pounding. He could feel his chest tightening with every breath, his thoughts spinning in circles. Was this really happening?

He slowly lifted his head, praying, hoping that what he was thinking wasn’t true. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign that this was just some cruel illusion. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, but it didn’t help. You were still there, staring back at him, just as real as the cold walls of the room around him.

“[Name]...”

How could this be real? The years apart, the silence, the pain—it had all carved its place deep inside you, wounds that never fully healed. And yet, here he was, standing before you like a ghost dragged from the past to haunt you. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

You stared at him, unable to look away, yet every second felt like a fresh wound. How could he just stand there, shaking and silent, as if you weren’t the one left to pick up the shattered pieces of your life when he walked away? Your chest tightened, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

He looked so different, yet so heartbreakingly familiar. Those same eyes that used to meet yours with warmth now avoided your gaze like a coward. The same hands that once held yours trembled at his sides, as if they carried the weight of something unsaid.

You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers to the questions that had haunted you for years. Why did he leave? Why didn’t he say goodbye? The questions burned in your chest, but no words came. The silence between you was louder than any explanation he could give—louder than the ache of the years he left you to carry alone.

And yet, some small part of you hated yourself for hoping, for wanting him to say something that would make it all make sense. But as his lips parted and nothing came, his silence was louder than any excuse could ever be.

Cheers suddenly filled the room as the two of you looked away from each other. Looking at the scoreboard, you released a sigh of relief as O won, meaning the games would still proceed.

Following the guards orders to disperse, you walked away as fast as you could. You needed to run away for a while, away from everyone, away from him. You weaved through the sea of players, ignoring the chaotic mix of relief and despair filling the room. Every step felt heavier, your mind still reeling from the sight of him. Why here? Why now?

Your chest ached. The large room offered little solace, the murmur of restless voices and distant footsteps a constant reminder of where you were. You sought refuge in the thin, scratchy blanket of your assigned bed, pulling it over yourself as if it could shield you from the weight pressing down on your chest.

Laying in a fetal position, you tried to steady your breathing, to stop the trembling in your hands. But his face—his eyes—kept flashing in your mind, a painful reminder of everything you thought you’d buried.

Anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. You clenched your fists, an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. But no amount of control could erase the gnawing ache in your chest.

“[Name]...”

The voice froze you in place.

“Can we… talk?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading.

Under the covers, you exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to keep your tone steady. “What’s there to talk about, Dae-ho?”

His jaw tightened, and he took a cautious step closer to your bed. “I… I didn’t think I’d see you here. I didn’t think I’d see you again at all.”

“Neither did I,” you replied curtly. “And yet, here we are.”

He flinched at your words, guilt flashing in his eyes not that you could see it. “I know I owe you an explanation.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “An explanation? After all these years? After you disappeared without a word? You think I need that now, here of all places?”

His lips parted as if to argue, but he stopped himself. Instead, he looked down, his hands gripping the fabric of his jumpsuit. “I wanted to explain. I really did. But I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t know how?” you repeated, incredulous. “You didn’t know how to tell me you were leaving? That you were giving up on us? That you—”

Your voice cracked, and you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. You refused to let him hear you cry. Not here. Not now.

“I didn’t give up on you,” he said softly.

His words hung in the air, but they did nothing to soothe the ache inside you. You shook your head once more, your voice trembling. “You left me alone, Dae-ho. You walked away without a word, and you left me to deal with everything by myself. Don’t tell me you didn’t give up.”

Silence followed, thick and suffocating. You could feel his eyes on your figure under the covers, before hearing footsteps walk away. You didn’t expect much, knowing that all he does is run from his responsibilities. But why did it still hurt?

As you went to collect your dinner, you couldn’t help but overhear familiar laughter. Laughter that you used to love listening to. Silently gazing at Dae-ho’s figure, you watch in silence as he makes small talk with a group of men in the corner of the room. A small smile crept up your face, even after all those years he still has his charming laugh. You moved your gaze to the guard as they handed you your food, with a small bow you thanked them before going back to your bed.

Looking at him one more time, your eyes widened in surprise as a set of eyes clashed with yours. Thankfully, it wasn’t Dae-ho. It was 001. There was something in his stare that made you scared. Maybe Dae-ho told them about your history and now they were angry at you, either way, who were you to care? You broke eye contact first, setting your gaze elsewhere as you retreated back to your assigned bed. Little did you know Dae-ho was doing the same, looking at you with longing eyes every time you had your back turned from him.

The next day came quickly, the game even quicker. You convinced a group to let you join their team with your gonggi skills. They were reluctant at first but had no choice but to let you in as the timer was nearing its end. Your team went through the games with ease, everyone was a pro on the games— you included.

As the guard placed the table in front of you, you and your team squatted, the familiar weight of the stones in your hands grounding you. It reminded you of something, something far simpler, back when you were young.

“The slowest will have to buy the winner dinner, deal?” you said with a playful grin, your voice filled with mischievous confidence as you laid out the challenge.

Dae-ho’s eyes widened, shaking his head dramatically. “That’s unfair! You only say that because you’re a pro at gonggi!” he shot back, his voice half-laughing and half-complaining, clearly trying to defend himself.

Currently, the two of you, still in your high school uniforms, are sprawled on the floor of your room, surrounded by an amusing mess of half-done activities. The afternoon had been a carefree escape from schoolwork and responsibilities, as you had decided to skip school for the day. Your parents were away, so you had the house all to yourselves.

The floor was scattered with papers, a few textbooks left open, and snacks you’d absentmindedly snacked on while getting lost in your own little world. Dae-ho’s hair was a chaotic mess of clips, ties, and failed attempts at creating something resembling style.

Meanwhile, your face was painted with makeup. Your eyes were covered in uneven eyeshadow, and your lipstick had smudged onto your cheeks in a way that had you wondering if you'd even be able to wash it off later. It was ridiculous, but it was also perfect. There was no need for perfection when you were together, just moments of unfiltered fun. You didn’t mind looking silly—it was a shared experience, after all.

You leaned back on the floor, hands resting behind your head, watching him with an amused expression. He had always been competitive, and you knew he wouldn’t let this challenge slide without giving it his all. But you also knew he wouldn’t back down.

"You're just mad because I'm about to beat you,” you teased, raising an eyebrow and holding the gonggi stones in your hand. “I’ve got this in the bag."

Dae-ho let out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be defeated, but his eyes betrayed him—the challenge was on. “Fine. The loser buys the winner dinner.” he said, as the fire in his eyes burned brightly.

You smiled, leaning closer and placing the stones carefully in front of both of you. “You’re on,” you replied, your voice light but determined.

The game, which was just supposed to be a simple way to pass the time, had suddenly become a full-blown competition, complete with stakes. Dae-ho didn’t like losing, and you knew that meant he would give everything he had to win, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

With that, the tension between you both shifted. You could feel the energy change as you both focused on the stones in front of you, your hands hovering over them, ready to begin the game. The silly banter was still there, but now it was mixed with a more serious undercurrent—a challenge that was both fun and a little bit intense.

Dae-ho glanced at you once more, his expression playful but competitive, and you could see the slight smirk forming on his lips. “Get ready to buy me that dinner,” he said with mock confidence, ready to show you he was the better player.

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that, Dae-ho.”

And with that, the game began, the stones flying through the air as you both competed to see who could win the challenge, the promise of dinner hanging in the balance.

After breezing through the first rounds, you placed all the stones on top of your hand, heart racing. You nervously exhaled, forcing yourself to focus.

“I’m honestly jealous of your gonggi skills,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you sat beside Dae-ho at your favorite hotpot place, a small smile playing on your lips as you stirred your bowl of soup.

Dae-ho, who had just taken a sip from his drink, blinked at you in mock surprise. “You? Jealous of me? You’re the one who won!” he said with a playful glare, his tone lighthearted.

You laughed softly, shaking your head at him. “Not that part, silly! I always notice that you always catch all five stones with ease. Even if I’m fast, I still mess up once in a while.” You looked down at your half-eaten bowl, the warmth from the hotpot filling your chest, but it wasn’t just from the food—it was the company that made everything feel so right.

Dae-ho’s expression softened as he put down his chopsticks, giving you his full attention. He nodded thoughtfully, then smiled, and for a moment, you felt as if the world outside didn’t exist, just the two of you, sharing this simple, quiet moment together.

“Well, my lovely [nickname],” he said, his voice taking on that playful, teasing tone you knew so well. “I can always tell you a trick,” he continued, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “But it’ll cost you. My secrets aren’t free, you know.”

Your curiosity piqued, you tilted your head, giving him a playful. “Go on, then.”

Dae-ho’s smile widened as he turned his cheek toward you, tilting his head just enough to make it clear what he wanted. You giggled, rolling your eyes but giving in, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his left cheek.

He grinned, the sparkle in his eyes making your heart skip a beat, and without missing a beat, he pointed to the other side, silently asking for more. You couldn’t help but smile, kissing his right cheek just as lightly.

Then, Dae-ho tilted his head again, offering his forehead with that trademark mischievous smile. “And this one?” he asked, his eyes glinting with excitement.

You didn’t even hesitate, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead, your heart fluttering in the simple affection. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the more you kissed him, the more the world around you faded away.

He stretched his hand out next, offering the back of his left hand with an expectant grin. You chuckled at how silly this game was becoming, but you still kissed it gently, your heart swelling with warmth. His grin only grew wider, and before you knew it, he was extending his right hand, offering it up for another kiss.

You kissed it too, your heart fluttering again at how effortlessly he could make everything feel so special. Each little moment, each silly gesture, you loved it all.

Finally, with that signature grin of his, Dae-ho turned fully toward you, his eyes sparkling with playfulness. “And this one?” he asked, tilting his face toward yours, the question hanging in the air like an invitation.

Without even thinking, you closed the space between you and kissed his lips, a soft, lingering kiss that felt full of promise and affection. The moment was so pure, so simple, that it left you breathless in the best way. Nothing mattered but the two of you, sharing this quiet, tender connection.

Dae-ho smiled against your lips, his arms subtly drawing you closer as he pulled back just slightly, a lovestruck expression on his face. “You’re the best, [nickname].” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he nuzzled you gently. His voice was soft and full of affection, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with warmth.

You leaned in, your voice teasing. “So? What’s the trick?”

Dae-ho let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated but still smiling. “Can’t I have a lovely moment with you?” he asked, his tone light and affectionate.

“Dae-ho.” you said with a small laugh, nudging him playfully.

“Fine, fine! You’re a party pooper!” he joked, giving you a nudge back before getting serious. He shifted slightly, sitting up straighter and showing you a more focused expression. “Alright, listen carefully.” He mimicked the motions as he spoke. “What I do is first calm myself down. Inhale... and exhale.” He demonstrated the breathing technique, his chest rising and falling slowly.

He paused before looking at you expectantly. Rolling your eyes, you copied his movement. Inhale and exhale.

Satisfied, he continued. “Once you find your peace, you put all your might in your palm so the stones don’t fall. Strong foundation.”

You nodded, watching him carefully. “Got it,” you said, your gaze fixed on his hands as he continued with his instructions.

He smiled, clearly pleased by your attention. “Then you throw your hand upwards—just right. Not too low, not too high,” he said, raising one hand and showing you the perfect motion. “Count one...” He paused dramatically, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Count one,” you repeated, laughing softly at how serious he was being, yet how cute he looked while teaching you.

“Then catch!”

You threw your hand up. It felt natural. It felt right. The stones landed, and you caught them all in one smooth motion.

“Hey! I caught it on the first try!” You grinned, excitement rushing through you. You looked up, expecting to see Dae-ho’s proud smile, the one that always made your heart race.

But instead, you met the cold, expressionless face of a guard. Reality hit like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t Dae-ho. This wasn’t your favorite hotpot place.

Your heart twisted, the warmth you replaced by the emptiness of this place. You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. The distant cheers of your teammates did nothing to drown out the silence in your mind.

You couldn’t shake the memory, his teasing smile, his quiet words, the way his lips brushed against yours. Those were moments you could never go back to. As you moved on to the next station, the sting of that memory lingered, sharp and painful. The sweetness was gone. It was just you, alone in this game, with no place for memories of simpler times.

Everything was a blur after that, your mind occupied by what happened during the second game. Gonggi was something you always bonded over, and that game brought unwanted memories back. It got to a point wherein the way you’d always made decisions, small or big, was by playing gonggi. Where to eat? Play gonggi. Who’s paying the bill? Gonggi.

But now, as you lay at your bed, staring at the ceiling, it wasn’t the same. Your mind wandered back to that moment, remembering his smile, the way his eyes would soften when he looked at you. That warmth, that sense of belonging, was gone. The past felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t hold onto anymore.

You closed your eyes, trying to push the memory away. Suddenly, the light went out.

The light went out? That wasn’t right.

You opened one eye and saw Dae-ho standing above you, looking down at you with that nervous, familiar expression.

“Congrats, [Name]. I knew you could do it.” he said softly.

You looked up at him, emotions swirling in your chest. “Congrats also, Dae-ho.” you replied quietly.

You stared at him as the weight of everything hung heavy in the air between you. You had so many emotions running through your veins—hurt, betrayal, confusion, anger—and yet, here he was, standing in front of you, trying to explain himself, trying to make sense of everything.

“[Name]... Please, talk to me.” he repeated, his voice soft but desperate.

You didn’t move at first. The space between you, filled with so many unspoken words. Finally, you stood up, leading him to a quiet corner between the bed frames, away from the chaos. The moment felt strangely intimate, but so far removed from anything you could have ever imagined.

Dae-ho was the first to break the silence, his voice shaking with the weight of his confession. “I didn’t want to leave, [Name]. I didn’t... but I had no choice.” He paused, his face twisted with guilt as he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“My father...” His voice cracked as he spoke, his words thick with regret. “He was... always trying to control me. Pushing me into things I didn’t want. He never let me make my own decisions. But when it came to you... he saw how much I cared. He saw how soft I was because of you, and he hated it. He thought I wasn’t strong enough to survive—how I wasn't becoming a real man, so he sent me away. He made me join the Marines. He didn’t even let me choose. I tried to fight him. I tried to say no, but he didn’t care.”

You felt your heart break all over again. “But... Why didn’t you fight harder for us? Why didn’t you try harder to stay? To... tell me?” The words were out before you could stop them, and they stung more than you’d expected.

“I... I couldn’t,” he whispered. “He had me. I thought if I left, if I did what he said, it would all be over. That he’d leave me alone. But when I came back, you were gone. I couldn’t find you. I looked for you everywhere, [Name], but you and your family were gone. And I thought... I thought I lost you forever. And I couldn’t fix it.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. “But you didn’t even try to find me, Dae-ho. You just... disappeared. I waited for you. I thought I was worth waiting for, but you made me feel the opposite. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces of my life without you.”

“Please don’t say that. You are worth fighting for [Name].”

His eyes filled with sorrow, and he reached out for you, but you pulled back slightly, not ready for his touch just yet. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I could make it right when I came back, but... it wasn’t the same. And now I’m afraid I’ve lost you for good.”

Your chest tightened, and you fought to keep your emotions in check. “You didn’t lose me, Dae-ho. If anything, I still think about you. Every street I walk, every place I visit. I always tried to find any sign of you. You just… you never gave me a chance to be part of your life anymore. I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend everything’s okay, because it’s not.”

“I understand,” Dae-ho said quietly, his voice laced with sincerity. “I know you’ve been through so much. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before, but I’m here now. Let me make it right. Please…”

He paused, swallowing hard before speaking again, as if the weight of his words was too heavy to bear. “If you just vote to go home, we can leave all this behind. We don’t have to keep playing. We can go back to the way things were. We can be free. We can live together.”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach, leaving you breathless. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what he was asking. He wanted you to vote to go home? That’s all it took? To end this nightmare?

You took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest. The sudden flood of emotions was overwhelming—confusion, anger, hurt, all rolled into one. “Is that what you think this is about, Dae-ho? You think you can just tell me to vote to go home and everything will magically go back to normal? That we’ll just go back to living in some fairy tale together?”

His face faltered with guilt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The words were already tumbling out, and the anger was building with each second. “You have no idea what it’s like for me out there. I don’t have anything left. No family. No safety. No way out. If I leave without the money, I’ll be dead before I even make it out of the game. The people who own me—they’ll come for me. They’ll end me.”

You couldn’t stop the rise of panic and fury in your voice. “You think voting to go home is going to fix everything? Do you think that’ll save me from what’s out there? You think that’s going to protect me?”

You were shaking now, your words louder, sharper with each passing second. “I’m not here by choice. I didn’t sign up for this game to have some fun. I’m here because I have no other option. I need the money. I have to win. I don’t have the luxury of walking away. If I don’t make it, I’m dead. They’ll take everything I have left. They’ll take my life. And you want me to just throw that away?”

His face went pale, his hands trembling as he reached out, but you stepped back, your emotions running too high. You were drowning in your own fear, your own anger, and he was standing there, asking for something you couldn’t give. Not now. Not when your very existence was on the line.

“I’m not going to die for you to feel like you’ve done something good,” you spat, your voice cold and full of finality. “I’ll keep playing. I’ll keep fighting. I’ll keep voting O if that’s what it takes to stay alive. Because I don’t have the luxury to just quit. I don’t have the luxury to go home. If I die here, then I die here. But at least I had a chance. A chance to keep living.”

You could see the regret flooding his face now, the guilt in his eyes clear as day. But it didn’t matter. You had already crossed the line, said everything you needed to say. The wound had already been made, and nothing would heal it now.

“They took everything from me,” you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of the confession. “I don’t have anything left. This game, this nightmare is all I have. If I leave without any money, without anything... they’ll take me. They’ll take my life.”

His expression was full of pain now. The words hit him hard, and you saw the guilt swirling inside him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came. You saw the regret in his eyes, the apology he couldn’t voice—but it was too little, too late.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered finally, his voice thick with regret. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know. I didn’t know it was this bad. I didn’t know you were fighting for your life.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping back from him. “You didn’t know? You never bothered to ask. You didn’t care enough to understand what I was going through. You just assumed everything would be fine, that we could go back to normal. But you didn’t ask, Dae-ho. You didn’t care.”

His face crumpled with the realization of what you were saying, and the weight of your words hit him like a ton of bricks. But you didn’t care. Not now. Not when you were holding on to the one thing that mattered to you right now—your will to survive.

“I’m sorry, Dae-ho,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but full of emotion. “But I care about surviving. I care about living. And if I have to vote O, if I have to keep playing to do that, then that’s what I’ll do.”

For a long moment, you stood there, facing each other in the silence, your hearts both full of unsaid things. But the anger slowly began to fade, replaced by a deep sadness, a sorrow that neither of you could fix.

He stepped closer to you, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry... I never wanted this for you. But I’ll always be here, [Name], even if you hate me for it.”

You looked at him one last time, the weight of everything you had said sinking in. And for the first time in a long time, you let the tears fall—not from anger, but from the overwhelming fear of it all. The fear of what your life had become, of how far you’d fallen, of the choices you had to make that never felt right.

Dae-ho stared at you as you quietly wept, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. Without a second thought, he reached out, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you in the comfort of his embrace, guiding your head to rest against his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t speak at first, just held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from the world, from everything that had happened, and everything you feared. His hand gently rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, offering what comfort he could in that moment.

“I’m sorry… I know I can’t take away all the pain,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m here, [Name]. I won’t leave you. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. Please... just let me be here for you.”

You clung to him, not knowing if you wanted him to fix everything, but just needing the solace, the warmth that came with knowing he was still here. Still trying. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly forgive him for the past, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel something you hadn’t in so long—comfort, even if it was fleeting.

He tightened his hold on you, letting you cry, never pushing you away. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

You didn’t know how long it had been, but eventually, the tears started to slow. The tightness in your chest eased just a little, and you found yourself breathing a bit easier. Dae-ho, still holding you gently, never let go. He simply let you rest against him, giving you space to process everything, even if that meant staying silent for the moment.

You looked at him, your chest heavy with everything you’d just let out. “I’m sorry too,” you murmured, voice low and shaky. “I... I didn’t mean to lash out like that. I was just... I don’t know. I was scared. I couldn’t—couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything. But I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Dae-ho shook his head softly, his fingers brushing your cheek again. “No... I deserved it. I made you carry too much, and I never gave you the chance to say how you really felt. I was so focused on my own guilt, I didn’t see how much I was hurting you.”

The weight of the words sank in, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek, though this one wasn’t filled with anger—it was filled with a sadness you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. “We both messed up,” you whispered, the ache in your heart growing.

Dae-ho’s gaze softened, his hand gently squeezing yours. “But I’ll try to make it right. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll keep trying, [Name]. I’ll stay by your side, no matter what.”

You took a shaky breath, finding comfort in the sincerity of his words. “I don’t know where we go from here, but... I can’t pretend like it’s all fine. I need time.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just... sorry. For everything.”

The air between you was thick with unspoken apologies, regrets, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you could both find a way to heal from this. You both had a long road ahead, a game to survive. But for now, the silence was no longer heavy with tension. Instead, it was filled with a quiet understanding, one that neither of you had expected to find, but one that was slowly, carefully beginning to piece things together.

"This time, the vote will begin with Player 001. Player 001, please cast your vote."

The moment the announcement was made, you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. Voting had begun. This time, you were going first—before Dae-ho. He stood beside you, his presence steady and calming, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. His hand brushed your back, the soothing gesture almost feeling out of place in this chaotic, life-or-death situation.

“Choose what you need,” Dae-ho whispered, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t be mad.”

His words settled over you like a gentle blanket, but they couldn’t remove the weight of the decision you had to make. To survive, to keep moving forward, you knew you had to vote for O. You had to keep playing if you wanted a chance at surviving, but even as you stood in front of the voting machine, you felt a sickening sense of dread.

Was it really worth it? Pushing yourself, forcing the belief that survival was your only option, knowing the outside world would swallow you whole. What was the point of living if the only person who ever made you feel truly alive has always been Dae-ho? The thought echoed in your mind, and the walls of the room suddenly felt like they were closing in around you. Dae-ho had become your anchor in this madness—your reason for pushing through.

But now, you had to choose. You needed to choose for your own survival.

Your finger hovered over the button for O, but then you thought about everything you’d been through, everything you’d sacrificed already. At that moment, it was no longer just about survival. It was about the life you had left to live. You didn’t want to keep going without him.

You slammed your hand down on the button, your choice made in an instant. The harsh reality of it stung as you tore off the patch you had placed on your jacket earlier, replacing it with a new one. As you made your way to the X side of the room, your heart felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of finality to it. You have made your decision.

You couldn’t help but look over at Dae-ho. The surprise on his face was so pure, so raw. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, like a fish caught out of water, and the shock in his gaze hit you harder than you expected.

Despite the tension and the gravity of the moment, you found yourself quietly laughing at him, unable to hold it in. The absurdity of it all—of choosing to walk away from everything that had kept you going—made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. God, you felt like a fool. After your dramatic show earlier, how you had confidently claimed that you would continue voting O, ready to survive, ready to keep playing. Yet here you were, choosing X, choosing to stop. Choosing him.

Dae-ho just stood there for a moment, still processing, before going up the platform to vote. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if he were trying to piece together what had just happened. You couldn’t blame him. The moment was so surreal, so at odds with everything you’d said before.

You watched him, heart hammering in your chest as he stood at the voting machine. His back was turned to you, but you could almost feel the confusion radiating off him. His hesitation was palpable, and you wondered if he understood. If he saw why you made the decision you did.

The sound of his vote pressing echoed in the silence, a soft click that seemed too loud for the room. He immediately walked to where you stood, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why... why did you choose X?”

The answer was too simple, too complicated, and maybe too painful to say out loud. Instead, you gave him a small smile, one that held so many unsaid things. “Dae-ho, I’ll always choose you.”

In the end, your vote didn’t matter. Since O won by a landslide, the next game was inevitable. But for the first time in days, or maybe even years, you found yourself smiling—a real, genuine smile—as you were introduced to Dae-ho’s little group. You exchanged pleasantries, introduced yourselves, and felt something warm stir inside you.

The following day came quickly, and with it, the next game. One moment, you were lying in bed, your mind running wild with the uncertainty of what was to come. Next, you were on a spinning platform, waiting for the music to stop. Your eyes immediately sought out Dae-ho, and when you met his gaze, he reached for your hand, gripping it tightly, as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, a promise in his words. “I won’t let go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I know.”

The rounds passed, too smoothly, almost disturbingly so. You all survived the first four rounds with ease.

But everything was about to change.

“Five women, and two men. Go!” Gi-hun’s commanding voice cut through the noise, demanding attention. Without hesitation, 007 shot his hand into the air. “I’ll go with my mother!” he announced, stepping forward. Gi-hun nodded, relieved to have a volunteer. He scanned the group again, waiting for the next person to step up.

Dae-ho raised his hand, his voice strong as he called out, “We’ll go!” He pulled you closer to him, offering a small smile that was laced with worry. His eyes betrayed his calm demeanor, revealing the weight of what was happening. The air around you both felt heavy with the uncertainty of the situation. Still, you clung to each other, walking together toward the door.

Your group of seven—007, 149, 120, 095, Jun-hee, you, and Dae-ho—ran toward the nearest empty room. The sound of your hurried footsteps echoed in the tense silence. But just as you were about to step inside, something caught your eye and made your heart drop.

Player 095, frail and struggling, was being shoved aside by a group of players. Seeing her so helpless, you couldn’t just stand by. Without thinking, you yanked your hand from Dae-ho’s grasp and rushed to her side.

Dae-ho’s heart skipped a beat the moment he felt the loss of your hand. Panic surged through him. Where did you go? He scanned the chaos around him, his eyes frantic as he searched for you in the crowded room. His heart tightened when he saw you helped 095 into the room, making sure she was safe. He could see the determination in your eyes as you ensured her well-being, but once it was your turn to come into the room, to rejoin him, disaster struck.

A group of four players, each desperately fighting for their own survival, barreled into you.

The impact was brutal. Your body was slammed to the ground with overwhelming force. Everything around you seemed to blur and slow down as you hit the floor, your breath knocked from your chest in a violent rush. A sharp wave of pain shot through your body—your limbs aching, your head spinning—but strangely, you couldn't feel it all at once. The shock of the fall seemed to disconnect you from your body, like you were floating in a painful haze.

In that split second, time seemed to stretch out. You felt a sudden sense of numbness as your body tried to process the damage, and your heart raced as you struggled to breathe. Your vision blurred, and for a moment, you feared that you wouldn’t be able to get up again. But then, the rush of adrenaline kicked in.

Determination surged through you like a lightning bolt. You couldn't afford to stay down. You had to survive.

You pushed yourself off the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain in your limbs, and scrambled to your feet. Gritting your teeth, you ran with every ounce of strength you had left, your focus fixed on the door. You had to get inside—it was the only chance left. The room was just a few feet away now, but each step felt like an eternity as you sprinted, your legs shaking with exertion and fear. Every part of you screamed for rest, but you couldn't stop. Not yet.

"[Name]! Let’s play Mingle!" Dae-ho’s voice rang out with excitement, pulling you out of your thoughts. You raised an eyebrow, already knowing his playful nature.

“With just the two of us?” you asked, teasing him. A grin tugged at your lips despite yourself, knowing that whatever he had planned would likely be a mix of fun and absurdity.

“Well...” Dae-ho scratched the back of his neck, pretending to think deeply, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. He was already scheming.

It was your third anniversary together, a day you both decided to celebrate in your usual style: by skipping class and spending it alone in your room. Both of you were still wearing your high school uniforms—uniforms that no longer felt like the serious attire they were supposed to be. The two of you had spent countless afternoons like this, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company, without a care in the world.

“I’ve got it!” Dae-ho suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he dashed to your bed. He scooped up a handful of stuffed toys with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Let’s use our children!” he declared, holding them up like he had just discovered the most brilliant idea.

You stared at him, your laughter bubbling up instantly. "Our children? Really, tiger?" you chuckled, wiping away the tears that had already begun to form from laughing too hard.

"Hey, don’t laugh! This is serious!" he protested, feigning offense, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes that told you he was only pretending to be upset. He adjusted the toys in his arms, a determined look on his face.

“Alright, fine,” you replied, still laughing but wiping your eyes. “Let’s play.” You were already game—who could resist when Dae-ho was this excited?

Dae-ho carefully arranged the toys in front of you both, giving each one a position with a level of care that made it clear he was taking this game very seriously. “Okay. For this round… Three!” he announced dramatically, holding his hands out in front of him like he was preparing to start a battle.

You didn’t even wait for him to finish before snatching up two of the nearest toys. His jaw dropped in mock betrayal, and he huffed loudly, feigning offense. "Not fair! You should partner with me. Always!" he said, acting like you had broken some sacred rule.

You stuck your tongue out at him, teasing. “Stop being a sore loser! I’m just playing by your rules.”

"Fine," he grumbled. He pouted dramatically, a little over-the-top for someone so competitive. He then scurried around the room, gathering two more toys to prepare for the next round.

The game continued in the same playful vein, with the toys being eliminated one by one. The room filled with the sound of laughter, teasing, and mock outrage as each round got more dramatic. The toys “lost” in ways that made no sense, their plush bodies being thrown to the side in exaggerated defeat.

"For this round,” Dae-ho said, his voice suddenly turning serious. “Two!” He gave you a look, as if to challenge you to keep up with him.

You smirked, ready to grab him this time. But before you could react, he swooped down and grabbed the last remaining toy, holding it close to his chest with a triumphant grin. “Hey!” you cried out in mock outrage, throwing your hands up.

"Sore loser!" he teased, clearly pleased with his victory.

You crossed your arms, pretending to sulk. “Whatever.” you muttered, rolling your eyes for effect.

Dae-ho chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. He set the toy down, then knelt in front of you. “Wait, wait, don’t be mad!” he said, holding the toy up to his face like a little puppet. He moved its tiny arms in a dramatic fashion, as if it was trying to “walk” toward you.

"Eomma! Please don’t be angry at Appa! Pleaseee!” he said in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice that made you burst out laughing.

Your faux anger crumbled immediately, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. He was ridiculous—and that was one of the many reasons you loved him.

Still holding the toy, Dae-ho slowly lowered it from his face, a more tender look in his eyes. You hadn’t noticed at first, but there was a delicate necklace hanging from the toy’s tiny paw. Your breath hitched as he gently removed the necklace and held it out to you.

"Here," he said softly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. You could feel the warmth in his words as he looked at you with such sincerity. Without warning, he leaned forward and clasped the necklace around your neck. The touch of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver through you. "Happy anniversary, [Name]."

For a moment, your heart skipped a beat as the rush of emotion hit you unexpectedly. His gesture felt like everything—a simple, yet deeply meaningful way of showing how much he cared. You blinked back the sudden welling of emotion in your chest.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips in gratitude. You then buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin.

Dae-ho chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, comforting hug. “Anything for you.”

In that moment, everything else faded away. There was just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth, sharing a quiet, simple happiness that felt bigger than any words could express. Time seemed to slow down, and you didn’t want to think about anything else.

As you pulled back, your laughter bubbled up again, light and carefree. You couldn’t resist teasing him once more. “You’re still a sore loser, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dae-ho replied, rolling his eyes but still grinning. “But you love me anyway.”

You smiled, your gaze softening as you looked at him with affection. “I do. Now help me with this necklace!”

Your hand stretched toward the door, the cold metal just within reach.

Then everything went silent.

#wqnsho.writes #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game fanfic #kang dae ho x reader #dae ho x reader #player 388 x reader #oneshot

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grimmsbride · 2 days ago

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▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself— I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

422 notes · View notes

floralscented · 1 day ago

Text

dean winchester x angel!reader — kissing lessons.

or, the defenses are down, the blockades shattered, and you dont know how to kiss. or, let dean help you.

cw, 18+, MDNI! dean talks you through it for real this time. backseat sex LOL. fluffy smut? lowkey subby dean hehehe. no protection yell @ them not me.

word count: 5.6k

notes, dean gets to be his full freak self here hehehe. everyone say ur welcome since i've been being HOUNDED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIMEMEEEEMEEEE TO POST THIS. unfortunately for all of u this is the planned conclusion to their tale </3 don't crucify me. u legally can't since i'm giving u this.

★ ˚⋆

things were... a little awkward, after you saved dean's life with a kiss. like passion drove you over the edge, a desperate need to save him and to do it any way possible, that was the only time that you managed to kiss him right.

and he didn't — well, he kind of judged you for it. just little laughs, when you'd lean in to try and kiss him and end up flushing and sinking backwards. it was cute. sure, it did mean he wasn't getting any action anytime soon, and every bedtime kiss you promised him ended up becoming a bedtime smack for him laughing at your struggle, but hey, you guys just had a different dynamic.

he still thought you were the prettiest thing to ever grace earth. just because you didn't know how to kiss properly didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop being interested. it just opened doors to getting to teach you.

sam stayed back at the motel while dean volunteered to go on a drink run. it was one of those nights; a roundabout case that the both of them knew was going to keep them up looking for the slightest detail in the research that could alter their investigation for the better. sam needed a beer, dean wanted a beer, and you wanted whiskey.

literally. girl of his dreams, he'd thought. still thinks.

plus, you love car rides. dean had not let you back behind the wheel since the last time, and you didn't seem to want to try again either, more than content to sit and look pretty in the seat next to him.

the nearest liquor tour in whatever small town you guys were camping out in for the night was a good few miles away, and so he got to play all of his cards in one fell swoop. hand on your thigh, fingers trailing up the seams of your jeans, tracing with his nail on the inside of your palm.

you were squirming. he loved when you squirmed.

his fingers are just at the inside of your thigh, long enough to have gently walked their way over like they owned the place ( he did, you didn't know it yet ) and rest easily. that is the moment you speak up, those narrowed eyes locked on his in a glare.

"stop that."

dean's eyebrows flick up. he spares a single glance toward you, the picture of innocence written into the marrow of his sinful bones. "stop what?"

"you're touching me."

he hums to himself for a moment, eyes turned toward the stoplight he'd rolled up to. "could be touching you more."

"no."

dean huffs out a laugh. "are you scared of my hands, dove?" even as he says it, his hand moves again, to the safety of your thigh. "you know they'd never hurt you."

your eyes roll furiously. you grab his wrist and practically throw his hand onto the gearstick. "your hands are not sentient beings and cannot make that choice for you."

dean's gotten really receptive to you, over these past few weeks. what your expressions meant in the rare times that you didn't voice your confusion, what your body language said, and so now he's confident that he knows what you're feeling right now. your hands are clenched tightly in your lap, purposely not touching him, fisted so tightly that they shake a little. your eyes are facing forward without budging, even though he knows that his gaze is burning into the side of your face.

the stoplight illuminates your face in a green glow. "it's a green light," you say without turning to look at him, and that pretty much confirms it for dean. you're afraid. afraid, embarrassed, and not wanting to tell him any of it. "so go."

dean's jaw clenches as he restrains a frown behind the cage of his teeth. the absolute last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you had to hide away from him, keeping every one of those thoughts locked away in your inexperienced, curious head.

the car rolls into drive again, passing the parking lot for the liquor store. he sees it out of the corner of his eye; the way your head cocks to the side, your lip between your teeth while you try to figure out what he was doing. you could ask. he wanted you to ask. whatever was eating at you was keeping all of his pretty girl's first thoughts from him.

he pulls off on the side of the road and cuts the engine, leaving the both of you in darkness except for the moonlight pouring in through the windshield.

dean nods toward the backseat. "hop on back there, sweet girl," he says with a sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the driver's seat. you don't move. he props himself in the doorway with an unmoved expression. "c'mon. it's late. don't wanna have to tell you twice."

the way your face twists up in annoyance is exactly what he wanted to see. good. anything but that weariness that had marred your features. he slips into the backseat, shuts the door behind him, before your door opens.

seconds later, you're dropping into the seat next to dean. he turns on the leather to face you better, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. "you know you can talk to me, right? i act like an ass all the time, i know, but you don't have to lock yourself away."

your face goes pink at his words. that angry twitch of your nose makes an appearance, and it's all dean can do not to break into a wider grin. knowing that something so delicate could also be so wicked was an enticing thought all in itself.

"it's embarrassing."

"so what?" his lips twist as his shoulders raise in a shrug. "who's gonna judge you? me? be serious, dove."

your nose twitches again, mouth in a tight scowl. "you would definitely judge me."

"that's how i know you're feelin' all insecure up there," dean says, tapping your temple with his finger, "because you know that's not true. i know that's not true."

you growl, actually growl, and dean wants nothing more than to grab you by the hand and tug your mouth onto his. even if you don't kiss him back, he wants to kiss you. your furious frustration was a common occurrence around him, but that didn't mean it got any less attractive.

"when you touch me," you grit out through your clenched teeth, your hands fisted in your lap like you might hit him. hell, he'd have taken the punch right then, if it kept you talking. "i feel things."

dean blinks twice in quick succession. "and?" you do hit him square in the shoulder. your hands carry much more of a punch than he could have predicted. he lets out a little oof, his lips pursing with his lack of amusement. "it's a serious question!"

"i can't say." you look adamant, your frustration so pretty on your features, and dean's a bit dazed. "it's embarrassing," you repeat, and dean gets it. or, he thinks he does.

one corner of his mouth quirks again, his cheek dimpling. the hand on your face falls to your thighs again, fingers lightly dancing on the inner seam of your jeans. "here?"

your hand raises to punch him again, and he knows he's right; catches it just in time before you can bruise that spot on his shoulder. "well, i can't leave you feelin' all hot and bothered, can i?"

"i am not hot," you scoff out almost in disgust at the suggestion, and dean does laugh, then. you were so hot it was ridiculous, but alright. "but i am very bothered."

"lucky for you," dean murmurs, his hand releasing your wrist and moving to your jaw, turning your head to look at him again, "i am very good at handlin' bothered girls." he leans in, brushes his lips against yours. "angels, i should say."

dean can feel you retreating already at the slight touch of his lips, but now he knows that it's not because you don't want to kiss him, or don't want what he's offering. you're afraid of it like the feelings will bite you, nervous to feel the full extent of it. his fingers hold your jaw more firmly.

"now, i'm not gonna ask," he says, driven further by the soft sound of your breath catching, "since you're feeling a little trigger happy right now... but i think it's time my little dove has herself some kissing lessons."

to his surprise, you don't hit him again. you just stare into his eyes with such earnest honesty that it's his turn to lose his breath. you trusted him so much. he wanted to show you just how much it meant to him; let you watch as he cradled your heart in his hands.

the distance closes in a second between your mouths, the brush of his slow and languid against yours, judging your reactions. your kiss is hesitant, and then suddenly you're pressing further into him, the force of it almost bruising when you don't move your lips. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes.

dean's finger comes up to pinch your lips closed, smiling softly as he does. "don't have to try n' bite my face off, honey, i promise," he chides without any malice in his words, taking advantage of the gentle grasp he had on your lips to lean in again. he kisses you slowly again, deliberate in the way his mouth moves, so you could figure it out.

your fingers uncurl in your lap and move to his shirt, twisting the soft cotton lightly. that's when he releases your lips, his hand shifting to cup your cheek in his palm. dean's thumb traces reassuringly on your cheekbone.

when your mouth opens this time, it's less like you're trying to sink your teeth into him and more like an invitation. dean knew you were a quick learner; had from the moment he'd let you behind baby's wheel. seeing it action like this, with your hands in his shirt and your tongue swiping across his, was on another level.

his free hand reaches for your hands one at a time, his touch on your wrist light as he lifts your fingers to his hair. he has to force his mouth away from yours, has to pull away from the taste of your tongue. "i know how much you wanna yank my hair out," dean teases, letting go of your hand to let you take over, "so go ahead n' pull, baby."

you look between his eyes again with that same open look, and he's sure he's melting right there into the leather backseat. "really?"

dean laughs. "yeah, really." he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. "matter of fact, touch anywhere you want, baby. this is all for you. so y'can get outta that head of yours."

something flashes in your eyes at that. he doesn't know what it was - the offer or the idea - that caught your attention, but he's intrigued, too. one of your hand drops from his hair to his shirt again, this time at the waist of it.

he's a little dazed, admittedly, as you untuck it from being bunched up in the waist of his jeans. it's intense to have your eyes on him while you pull his shirt up until it catches on his extended arms.

"took the first chance y'could to get me naked, huh?" dean asks, even as his voice comes out more strained than it'd been before, his jeans suddenly feeling just as tight.

you use your elbow to nudge his arms up, and he raises his hands in defense at your sudden act of authority before he lifts them. then, you've got his shirt off, tossing it behind your back. "shut up."

"there's my girl," he murmurs, hooking his finger in your belt loop and tugging you closer. maybe he was moving too fast. maybe he knew you'd adapt quickly.

and you do. he never doubted you for a second. your hand rests on his cheek, guiding him back into a kiss, more confidently than any of your kisses had been so far. your fingers tangle in his hair, and dean has to physically bite back on the groan in his throat.

he takes advantage of his hold on your jeans to start unfastening them. you're so good for him, a perfect match, because you don't even know what you're doing but your hips are lifting so he can start pulling them down.

dean breaks the kiss with a pop of your mouths, and the growl you let out goes straight to the hardening cock trapped in his jeans. he doesn't want to move so fast, but you've always been a little cruel like this, tempting him in ways that he should have been stronger to resist. there was no resistance now.

he hooks his arm under your legs to turn you in the seat, draping them across his lap. he unties your boots for you, pulling them off and setting them on the floor of the backseat. then, he's grabbing the bunched denim on your thighs and tugging until they're off. dean has more care with your clothes than you did with his. he'd always treat everything about you as gently as glass, setting them on the middle console between the front seats.

you look at him for a second, like you're trying to gauge the situation you've both found yourselves in. pulled over on the side of the road like teenagers that couldn't wait, stripping each other naked in the backseat. it'd be laughable if you didn't look so vulnerable. for the second time that night, dean realized how big the trust you had in him was, and he didn't want to do a thing to mess it up.

"lemme get this off of you, yeah?" he asks, his hands moving to the bottom of your shirt. he meets your gaze for confirmation; gets a single nod. "it means a lot, y'know," he continues on, trying to keep you out of the black hole that was your worries, as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, "that you're trusting me with this. all of it."

"don't start," you whine, your hands moving to your eyes, covering your face. dean grabs your wrists and pulls them apart, moving your arms out of the way so he could properly see you. "hey!"

dean's lips pull into a small smile. "hi."

"this is a lot," you say, and his smile softens considerably, "i don't know what to do now."

dean lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "whatever you wanna do. this is all you, baby, i'm just here to provide." he rests his large palm on your kneecap, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin. "we can stop. you can kiss me again, or punch me again, if that's what you want. we can get dressed again, get what we actually came for..."

"no." you blink a few times before you shake your head. "i don't want to stop, i..."

dean's not a patient man. he's used to time limits and counting his days. but in this backseat with you, he's certain time has stopped just for the both of you. he feels the world at his disposal, like every bit of time existed like pieces of sand in his palms.

when you realize he is, for once, not going to interrupt you, and not try and put thoughts in place of your feelings, you huff. "i do not know what to do from here."

dean grabs for one of your discarded hands, holding your fingers in his lap. "do you want us to be on equal ground?" he asks, nodding down at himself. you were in nothing but undergarments; he still had his jeans on. "and then we can figure it out from there?"

your smile is beautiful in its hesitance. "okay."

"okay like you want my pants off, or okay like you'd just feel better if we were both freezin' our asses off back here?" dean teases, even as he shifts a little in the cramped space to start taking off his jeans.

your huff is practically a wordless grumble in itself. "why do you want me to spell things out?"

"i want you comfortable, dove," he says, the waistband of his jeans paused at his thighs, "there's no pressure here at all. if there's pressure, then it's not fun anymore."

you think on it for a second. dean watches your expression shift with your feelings and acceptance. "you may continue."

"oh, mama's bossy now, is she?"

you grab a handful of the leg of his jeans and yank. "shut up."

"yes, ma'am."

you wad up his discarded jeans and toss them at him in a ball of denim. "shut up."

"you're so pretty when you're mad, honey," dean mumbles, using his grip on your hand to tug you forward. you stumble a little in the small space, falling into his lap. "come n' make me shut up."

your eyes are narrowed on him as you shift to make yourself comfortable. your leg tosses over his thighs, settling into his lap. his breath hitches in his throat at the feel of your heat through both of the thin undergarments on you, and from the look in your eyes, the evidence of his own arousal has made itself prominent against you, too.

you look like you might say something. you don't. your hands grab him by his face and drag him in for another kiss. he actually chokes on a noise in his throat at the suddenness, and he thinks he might love you. knows he does, but has never felt the intensity of it quite like this before.

dean's mouth opens to let you in, craving the taste of you again. your tongue meets his instantly, lapping against each other's in a languid slow dance. he's content like this. he could stop here, and go back to the motel with or without the alcohol and use this memory here of your tongue in his mouth while you sat all pretty in his lap to get himself off, and be perfectly fine.

but if there was one thing that you were full of, it was surprises. his little whiskey drinking, praise adoring, bossy angel. your fingers fall between the both of your bodies and rest on his hard on through his boxers, and dean looses a shuddering breath.

you pull away from his mouth with his saliva on your lips. dean's head falls back onto the headrest of the backseat with a groan. "you told me i could touch," you say, your innocent voice so out of place with your devilish hands.

"i did," dean says, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "didn't expect you to go for the gold immediately, though."

your answering smile is the prettiest thing he's ever seen. the moon sits high in the sky outside of the window, glowing and whitecast down onto you.

a halo of your own making.

dean thinks he's going to die.

you raise your hips off of him for the time being, your light touch teasing and electric at once. dean grasps that hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing each of your fingertips. "here," he says quietly, his other hand going to your waist. he traces over your ribcage lightly before he closes his fingers over your side.

he pulls you closer, lets you grind against the swell in his boxers. he groans, your breath hitches with a little whine, and he's sure, then, that he'll die like this.

"you like that?" dean asks you, dipping his head to get a better look at your eyes. you look dazed, a little drunk, and dean wants to see those pretty eyes glimmer and glisten.

he lifts you up again by your thigh, just enough to slide his boxers off of him as gently as he can. the space is cramped, and it's finally starting to feel like it.

dean's done this plenty of times, but there's something about your gaze that makes him feel more vulnerable than he ever has before. he's naked underneath you; you, who has never done anything like this before, and he feels more exposed than you seem to.

it's like a game, now. when he does something, you do it, like you don't want to fall behind in this back and forth. your hips stay up, and it's more awkward for you to tug your panties off, but you manage it with a few lifts of your legs, and a kick that sends them, somehow, into the driver's seat.

you laugh. it's breathtaking.

dean helps you settle back on his thighs, and it's all he can do to not fall apart there. you're warm, you're wet enough that he feels it on his legs, and all he wants to do is make you feel even better than you do now.

"green light?" dean asks, lifting his eyes to look at you again, and not at all of the skin bared to him. he doesn't want to overwhelm you with how intense he must be staring at you, but you're mesmerizing. perfection in the form of a wingless angel sat on his lap.

you blink a couple of times before the realization settles in. "go?"

"i'm askin' you, dove," he says in answer, hand going to the back of your neck to pull you closer, to press a kiss to your forehead. "red light or green light?"

your face is so close to his, but dean can see the melted expression in your eyes. instead of answering, you press a kiss to his mouth again. he's glad you like it, now that you know how to do it. he could handle kissing you over and over, but your lips kissing him back is something he was already getting addicted to.

on his mouth, you whisper, "green light."

dean blinks, now. his teeth drag your bottom lip back lightly until it pops back into place. "yeah?"

at your nod, he sits up a little better, his arms snaking around your waist. once he's got a good grip on you, he moves the both of you so that he's sprawled beneath you in the backseat, fully extended. he doesn't fit, his legs bent a little as his back presses into the door, but it's fine. everything is fine when he has you. plus, his bent knees only draws you closer to him.

"i promise this is the last time i'm gonna do this to you," he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, lifting you off of his thighs again. "just say red light if it's too much, okay?"

"okay."

it's more gentle than he's ever been, the way he spreads your legs open a little more, the way he lines the aching length of his cock up with your waiting entrance. just the brush of the tip against the wetness of your folds could make him crumble.

dean pushes up enough to just barely rest inside of you, giving you the moment to adjust. your gasp is small, breathless. he stops instantly, his hand on your thigh loosening its grip. your face twists into a frown. "i didn't say red light," you grumble through the pout, and he's always been a sucker for that little pout, as much as he is for when you sink your teeth into the puffy lip.

his laugh is warm, free hand raising in surrender again. "sorry, baby, jus' lookin' out for you."

you start to sink down further on him yourself with nothing but his hand in guidance. your eyes are wide, your lips parted in a soundless 'o', but you don't tell him to stop, and he trusts you enough to know that you would, if you needed it. he couldn't helicopter monitor you just because he was afraid of breaking the pretty thing he'd grown so attached to.

it's a tight fit, being inside of you. he can feel every bit of your walls expanding to fit him, and he tries not to groan, tries to not get too ahead of himself, but goddamn. months of fantasizing about this, of denying himself those same fantasies out of fear of ruining the trust you were building between each other, comes nowhere near the reality of how it feels to have you in his arms.

your head drops to press against his, and dean's unable to resist the way he leans up to peck a kiss to your mouth. a quick one, light and easy, that you take as a sign to deepen. your teeth scrape his lip, your tongue explores the expanse of his mouth, and dean takes this distraction from the discomfort he knew you were feeling to push the rest of the way inside of you.

you whine on his lips, and he kisses away the little noises. "i know," dean mumbles on your mouth, "it's okay."

the red light is unspoken, but he's not about to push you, or overstep anyways. you trace shapes with your fingertips on his bare chest, worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"green light," you say after a few moments, and a few more soft kisses from him in the crook of your shoulder.

dean nods, leaving a last lingering kiss on your collarbone before he shifts enough to properly start to move inside of you. the thrusts are shallow and gentle, letting you get a feel for it, letting you adjust to his size.

your forehead drops to rest on his shoulder, each little whimper twisting at his heart, even if the sounds of them were beginning to get louder and less strained.

"feelin' better?" he asks, all of the strain from your voice stolen and bottled up in his. the way that you squeeze around him has all of his rational thought fogging, and it takes a conscious effort to be gentle with you. this wasn't about dean; it was about you.

you nod once, your hair tickling at his chest. he's about to keep up the slow pace, to keep going as gently as possible, until you sit up a little straighter and start to meet each of his thrusts with a grind of your hips. dean's head knocks against the passenger window, his breath leaving his mouth in a shudder.

you must like it, too, because you let out a breathless laugh. you grab his hands and hold his fingers between yours, letting them fall to rest on his stomach. it's that game again; you doing something to keep up with what he's doing.

dean grins as he watches you, the tight expression on your face melding into something a little more wild and free. he's never seen you like this. he'd take a picture if he wasn't absolutely certain that you and him were gonna do this again.

again, he moves your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles this time, his groan reverberating through your fingers. you match him so easily, like you were made for whatever he gave to you. your increasing confidence makes him feel comfortable enough to speed up, his other arm braced on the back of the seats for stability as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

your head tips backwards with the first real moan he's ever heard out of you. your reckless abandon is utterly disarming. he sits up straighter, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you pressed against him as he buries himself inside of you.

your hands tremble as they lock onto his face, holding it to be nose to nose with him. you're panting on his mouth, and he can't stop staring at your lips, and he's so deep inside of you that he can feel the tip against your cervix, deep enough to make a rough groan slip out of his throat.

there was no need for kissing lessons. you would have figured it out on your own, dean's sure of it, with how you tilt his head back to suck his top lip between yours, tongue languid against his.

it's embarrassing how close he is to coming already. how couldn't he? he was enamored, transfixed, and getting this little taste of you was intoxicating. your fingers move from his cheeks to his jaw, clawing at his lip, tugging the bottom one down as you ride him.

he lets you. he'd let you do anything.

dean's thumb finds it's way between your legs, slipping between your slick folds to rub gentle circles into your clit. your thighs clench around his, grinding your hips down further onto his, against his hand.

his head tilts up to capture your mouth again, wanting to taste each moan that you let out, to swallow your pleasure and keep it to himself, where no one else can ever see it. each of those shuddering moans gets louder, more frantic, and he knows you're close.

"dean," you whisper into his mouth, and dean wants to hear his name said like this every time from you, now. breathless, desperate, and as needy as he felt.

he thumbs more deliberately at the swollen nub, pressing a final kiss to your mouth before he works little hot kisses down your jaw, your neck. "dean, i--"

"it's okay," his voice is as rough as gravel. "that's how it's supposed to feel." he knows your head like his own, knows from the frenzied breath into his shoulder that you're going to come, and that it must be a little much, trying to live through those feelings and try to figure them out. "it's supposed to, okay? jus' let go, i've got you."

dean would always have you. he loved you too much to let go.

that thought is what breaks his resolve. his thrusts become more sloppy, harder than he should probably be with you, but he loves you, and it's ruining him to not show it, or tell you. the car is thick with hot air, the windows are foggy, his skin is sticking to the leather seats, but he loves you.

you come apart on top of him with the moonlight still bathing you in a halo's glow. your hips still, your fingers claw at his face, scratching red marks into his stubble, and you cry out a moan against his lips.

he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. his hips stutter to a stop inside of you, a gasping groan punctuating his pants into the column of your throat, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum fills you. he'd worry about that later. or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't care about anything in the world besides how much he loves you.

dean doesn't realize he's whispering it out loud until he registers that pretty laugh of yours.

your hair is stuck to your forehead, your skin glassy with sweat in the pale moonlight, and the halo of the moon still hangs above your head. you're the most divine thing he's ever seen, the closest to divinity he's ever let himself be.

"you love me?" you ask, your eyes so sweet and so warm as they watch him.

dean leans up to kiss each corner of your mouth. "where'd you get that impression?"

he can never tell when you'll be matter-of-fact or when you'll play around. he forgets sometimes all of the things he's taught you, every bad idea you've got wedged in your mind because of his influence. dean winchester never wanted to corrupt you or your innocence, but he knew he'd always end up pulling you into the dark with him. you were stuck together, after all, now that he'd embedded himself to you for saving his life.

"i had a hunch." your head tilts up pridefully, chin jutted out. the act is cute while it lasts but falls apart instantly when you start to laugh again. dean's never heard you laugh so much since you'd met. how'd he get so lucky?

the car ride back to the motel is peaceful, the frigid air conditioning blasting to try and clear the fog from the windows and cool the sweat on your skin. the entire time, dean's hand is on your thigh, and the entire time, you don't move it. the moon follows his angel out the window the entire drive, like it knows, too, that you were as divine as beings could be.

sam calls two miles from the motel. "everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "it's been at least an hour. i didn't think you could get lost on a beer trip in this town."

beer. liquor store. alcohol run. it all comes back to dean now that his head is a little more clear.

"oh," is all dean can say for a few seconds, gaze flickering over to you in the passenger seat. you pick at the threads on his jacket he'd given to you, head downturned to unsuccessfully hide your laugh, "got sidetracked. we'll be back in twenty or so."

it was sam's turn to be silent. his following laugh is more like a scoff than anything else. "jesus christ, dean."

"blame dove," dean cackles into the speaker, eyes fond as he glances over at you again. he makes a (definitely illegal) u-turn at the same stoplight that acted as the tipping point for the night's event back in the direction of the liquor store. "she's the one who needed taught how to kiss."

tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deanswidow @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @cevansbaby-dove @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @jackleslvr @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

#──★ dahlia's jrnl #──★ dean x saga #dean winchester x angel!reader #angel!reader #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #spn #supernatural #supernatural one shot #spn one shot

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lorasdolly · 2 days ago

Text

Thinking about Sevika making it imbossible to stay away from her...

Among the many stories made by the greeks that one could resonate with, the one you found hitting closest to home was how humans became individuals.

Humans, originally being creatures that grew two pairs of arms and legs, along with a two heads. Fearing the power that two lovers united could wield, Zeus split them into seperate parts, ensuring they'd spend life in search of their other half.

And as the nights grew colder, you were sure that Sevika was the other half.

It felt as if your instincts brought you back to her, or maybe your lack of self control. It was challenging to spend a gloomy midnight without the warmth of her large body besides you, shielding you from any danger or discomfort.

Her bigger arms would circle around your frame and you'd feel like if dying would be safe. Though, you two weren't exempt from the usual lovers quarrel.

You'd argue, fight, and there's been times that slaps have been delivered to her face. She'd never hit you back, carrying too much dignity of being stronger to ever lay a hand on you, but it would ignite issues.

Either way, it would be easy to get over, falling back in love all over again. You'd both run back to eachother, even though you mostly did all the running.

This time was different though, the dispute was no longer a silly feud, but it has been three weeks without having her besides you.

Her line of work had gotten between you and her multiple times, but with Silco forcing her to think about the consequences of entanglement with someone quote on quote "weak", your anger rose to the top.

It boiled your blood she'd ever even dare to listen to a man who couldn't care if Sevika lived or died, as long as her blood wasn't spilled on him.

She couldn't see that, defending his point and justifying the vindication.

While the worst part was not having your emotional rock with you constantly, you were also fucking insatiable.

You laid on your bed, soaking the sheets beneath you as your fingers pumped in and out of yourself. Insatiable isn't hardly an overstatement, your other hand holding a fleshlight to your mouth, imagining it to be Sevika.

You alternated between thrusting your tongue inside the fleshlight and rolling your hips up against your already pruney hand. You missed Sevika hovering over your face as your head hung off the bed, tongue fucking her exactly how she needed.

Just the thought of being able to pleasure Sevika right now had you on the brink of cumming, quickening your movements but being sloppier from the overstimulation.

But currently, Sevika was opening the door to your apartment to pick up some clothes she needed for work with Silco tomorrow. She had an extra key you never dreamed of taking away from her, the idea of her sneaking up on you made heat pool at your lower tummy.

She imagined you'd be sleeping, it was pretty late, the clock about to strike midnight. But your thoughts kept you awake, rutting your clothed pussy against the pillow between your pretty thighs, imaging it to be Sevika's chest.

God, your mind was filthier than anything, you could most likely get off to the idea of her hitting you.

As your tongue only moved occasionally, more focused on reaching an orgasm to just sleep, the door of your bedroom creaked open. Sevika was careful, not intending to wake you up, but she didn't know she'd be keeping you awake all fucking night.

Sevika's heart dropped to her pussy because she could feel the consistent throbbing between her legs. They begun to rub together, but you had finally caught sight of her.

You were embarassed, and god that humiliation gave you an earth shattering climax.

Sevika couldn't restrain the smirk that was now plastered on her face, a throaty chuckle escaping her lips. "Nasty girl." Sevika remarked, walking closer to the edge of your bed.

"Fucking a silicone pussy with your mouth, baby?" Her smirk grew wider when you whined, a hand running through her messy and short hair.

She started crawling onto your bed, your cheeks heating up and growing a rosy shade of red. "'Vika—" you stammered, words stuck at your throat.

She prys your legs open and situates herself between them, glaring down at you, your naked body, all ready for her to take you. She chuckled at the irony of this moment, how you were splayed out for her.

"I— 'Vika, why are you here?" You mumbled, legs clasping around her.

"Came to pick some things up.. but it seems we have bigger fish to fry." she says with humor in her tone. Her hands began to wander upwards, cupping and groping your tits with an unmatched hunger.

Her hands started trailing down to your pussy, ready to pump them like she usually does. Your hand comes to grab her bicep, shaking your head with desperation.

"What, baby? You're gonna act mad still?" She says, assuming you'd still be angry with her.

She regretted it, obviously, but the days on end without any contact kept making it harder to reach out. She never had the chance to apologize to you properly.

So she kept her train of thought about your reasonable anger before it got cut off by your firm, nearly commanding, but you'd never try that with her, words— "'Vika, sit on my face, god, please."

Your voice cracked with desire. The desire to drain her cum out of her cunt, to fuck yourself as she used your face like a sex toy.

She chuckled, her thoughts and words proven wrong. She kneeled between your legs, unzipping her trousers and pulling them to her ankles before getting fully out of them.

Who was she to say no to you?

Before Sevika could fully sink onto your face, your arms slithered around her thighs, pulling her to suffocate you.

You ate her strivingly, tongue suckling on her clit and nose stuffed into her pubic hair. Sevika's hand came to tangle in your hair, securing your head in place before riding your face.

She made sure your tongue hit all the right places, nose now budging at her clit.

Your moans sent vibrations through her body, mainly her pussy as the movements become increasingly unfocused. She was practically left gasping for air above you, your tongue flicking back and forth, her juices costing your chin.

"Good.. good, baby." Sevika muttered but loud enough to be heard as she removed her pussy from your face, eliciting a disappointed whine.

Her eyes stared down at your cunt, the slick of your pussy glistening just for her. You needed the thickness of her fingers, something to keep your other needy lips occupied.

"What do you want, baby? You used your words earlier, use them now." She encouraged, pressing her pelvis against yours.

You moaned, "I— I need to have your... uh— against mine.. 'Vika."

Sevika couldn't help but laugh at the purity behind your words, "Uh? You want what, baby?" She mocked, rolling your bodies together. She wanted to merge with you the same way you did.

"Pussy.. 'gainst mine." You whispered, your bottom lip finding it's way under your teeth. You nipped at the skin to wait for a response.

She was overwhelmed from just cumming, but your pleasure came above hers every single time.

Her body lifted, pressing your thighs and bending them against your chest. She needed to feel the arousal that had built up.

She started rubbing her cunt against yours, hand finding it's way to your throat. You moaned at that, your own hand clawing at her bicep. You wanted to mutter stop, but you knew she'd actually listen, and if you weren't able to cum right now, you might as well die.

The squelching noises of slick being brought together turned you on more. It looked so dirty, you glared at the conjoined spot in awe.

Her hand tightened its grip around your neck, bed creaking as she made sure you didn't have to do any work anymore.

Her moans grew louder as did yours, a knot developing in your tummy and the way her clit knocked against yours. It was unbearable, the second orgasm of the night crashing upon you.

Likewise, she crumbled and collapsed besides you, both of you bare.

She groaned and pulled you ever close, smothering kisses all over your face and neck, begining to nip harder. A hickey soon developed, and pride painted her features as she stared at it.

"Sorry for being a dick." Sevika accounted for, mentioning the earlier fight. Her hand traced circles on the love mark.

You shook your head, "You're a good fuck."

That caused Sevika to chuckle, no space left between you two.

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takes1 · 3 days ago

Note

PLEASE I NEED MATSUKAWA OR KUNUMI OR EVEN MADDOG PLEASE IM BEGGING 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙏

thankz ::3 -🩻

clingy!kentarou x reader (taming maddog)

heyyyy :) finally getting to this hope it's aight

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / riding maddog / 69 / obsessive!maddog / clingy!needy!maddog / possessive!maddog / loneliness theme / 'i can fix him' trope / libero!reader / johsai girls' team reader / maddog being canonically mean / implied virginity / experienced!reader / emotionally intelligent reader / emotionally stunted maddog / 3.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3

"(Y/n), like, I know you've got a type and all..."

"Mhmm," You follow absentmindedly, tracking your latest obsession like a hawk.

Number 16 was different- not just attractive, but he had a threatening, intense, sharp presence about him. He was just about the only member of the guys' team who didn't subscribe to a cheerful, cooperative environment. His little outburst earlier caught your attention, and he was currently benched for pushing Oikawa.

He sure was aggressive. You bit your lip and watched him stretch from the bleachers.

"But I heard he's actually crazy."

The other girls on your team would never understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger, going after the most deviant of guys you could find. It was an endearing joke amongst the team, at this point, but they did worry for your safety.

"What's his name?" You looked to them for the first time, mind already made up.

Whispers of Kentarou, Kyoutani, Maddog, were shared as you settled back to watching him. Lots of horror stories of him getting in trouble, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, other students, getting suspended for a time all encouraged you. The nickname he earned made you significantly more fascinated.

You could fix him. It would at least be fun to try.

You couldn't help but ponder where his true fault lied, how it twisted into so much unwarranted aggression.

Was he not held as a baby? Did he have a bad home life? Had it manifested into some kind of sexual dysfunction? You wondered if he was this big of a presence in the bedroom. You smiled at the strong possibility that he wasn't.

Maybe that was a bit Freudian of you to assume, but your previous diagnoses hadn't steered you wrong yet. The guys you slept with were all weirdos- losers- psychos- and yet, they were all a step closer to normal after a little love.

They couldn't stop you from approaching, especially when nobody had the guts to go anywhere near him.

"Hi," You tapped his shoulder after a bout of hesitation.

He looked to the side, then behind, and realized you were referring to him.

His brow fell from its subtle version of surprise, making all his features look heavier, meaner-- you shuddered.

"Yo." Was all he said.

Though dismissive and already uncomfortable, it was enough to work with.

You smoothed out your uniform with a nervous sigh, "Um- I'm sorry if this is forward, but,"

"I think you're really cute. I'd like to go on a date, sometime."

Kentarou looked angry even when he was shocked. The dark around his eyes made it impossible to look soft, and it seemed he didn't have the capacity to smile yet.

The only way you could deduce that he was embarrassed was the way his hands balled into fists at his sides, how he looked around your face over, over, and over again for an ounce of insincerity.

It was adorable. You giggled at his long silence.

Laughing shut him down. His mouth curled in a sneer, positive you were laughing at him.

The gaggle of girls, filling the entrance to the gym, all clad in your uniform, wasn't great for optics. It looked like you were playing a prank on him.

"Are you kiddin' me?" He rolled his eyes before you could even try to explain, "Go fuck yourself."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Though you loved your team, visible swarms of women never put the guys you went after at ease.

That rejection was still tame for what you had seen before from him.

He put his back to you and crossed his arms, watching the game, instead. Getting benched and made fun of couldn't have been a great feeling.

Determined now, you shook out your nerves and tapped his shoulder again.

"Tch-! I said fuck off!" He scowled down at you, but you knew it was misguided. So it didn't hurt as bad.

You purposefully didn't mirror his body language- you didn't want him to cut him off even more. You stood facing him at an angle, trying to catch his eye and take his attention again.

Voice quiet, sweeter, genuine, "I'm serious."

Even if this was a joke, you were the most persistent he had ever seen. Nobody usually got this far. If he told somebody to leave, they did. Especially after the second time, and a girl, at that.

"I mean- I get it if you're not into short girls, that's totally fine," You fixed your hair, glancing away from his overwhelmed, slow expression, "But, please, just... think about it. Here's my number."

For a moment, you were unsure if he would take the paper in your hand. He gave you zero indication that he believed your story, but after just enough time to make you doubt, he took it.

Kentarou held it tight, confused, as you joined your team to leave the gym. He watched them look over and preen you like birds to make sure you weren't hurt.

It could've been a real confession. The gravity of it didn't truly land until he was back home, looking up the girls' team Instagram to find your personal handle. You were following the page and even had a few features in their posts.

Doubts began to grow that it was your real number. He decided he didn't want to use it.

Instead, he lay on his bed, palming himself to the poses of your greatest receives- you were such a pretty girl, with a nice body, cute face--reminded of those things now, it only made him more skeptical at your choice to speak to him.

Luck was on his side once again, because your own profile was public. You even had a few beach posts. Lots of likes, lots of followers. You wouldn't notice if he liked a few of them, unless you were being honest about your interest.

You were all over his signals in a flash.

A follow, a bit of page-stalking that got you nowhere (because he had 0 online presence, other than a couple blank accounts), and a long string of messages that went deep into the night, all earned you a date.

Now that the game had officially begun, you needed to curate each move carefully. If you waited too long to take advantage of any clear signs of interest, he wouldn't find you worth the trouble. You needed some dick.

Kentarou was lonely, too.

It was as you suspected, monitoring him during that practice match. People who had a good support system didn't act that way he did.

He wasn't wistful, or desperate, and didn't invite friendship. Shit, he barely let you court him, and the only way you could convince him to meet you for coffee was if you sent a few pictures 'to prove it was just you.' And yet, after the one misunderstanding, he didn't deny you any opportunity to get close.

His experiences shaped him to be incredibly firm, mistrusting, and overly cautious, yes; It all fell short though, when it came to the very simple, universal longing for companionship.

The cafe wasn't too quiet, thankfully.

You were most worried about the possibility of him causing some sort of commotion and being asked to leave, but other patrons were lively enough to drown him out, if he did raise his voice.

To your surprise, that also wasn't much of an issue.

He ordered for the two of you, even -begrudgingly- accepting that you wanted a more intricate drink, too. He didn't let you do much for yourself. When he told you to go find a seat while he waited at the counter, you stayed with him so you could be close. He still didn't argue.

Though he wasn't polite, he wasn't a monster. He was just brimming with attitude, and that rubbed people the wrong way. When unprovoked, he was mean-looking, sure, but docile.

A predatory gaze watched the skirt of your casual dress flutter up- just a little, not quite enough- as you sat down next to him with your elaborate drink in hand. He set his cup down and you felt his leg flex as you closed the distance to snuggle up to him.

"You're taking this joke pretty far."

Insecurity filled the quiet between his words, and it took a sensitive ear to detect under all the venom. Was he testing you? Probably. Was he still trying to protect himself? Absolutely.

"Mm," You considered how to respond while sipping on your coffee, staring forward, not really minding his intensity, "I don't have the kind of time to go on fake dates, you know."

It was an argument less emotional in nature, but due to its legitimacy, it left him stumped enough to drop the subject.

In its wake remained discomfort. Mostly at your thigh, busy rubbing against him as you pretended to be more invested in the ambience of the cafe, or the flavor of the drink in your hands.

"What're you doing it for?" He pressed, different, but still carried with a grumbly, shitty attitude he always spoke in.

That took some getting used to, but once you understood he just talked that way, you were able to take his words at face value and waste less time miscommunicating.

A warm hand, palming the squish of your bare thigh encouraged your desire to be honest.

You waited for him to stop scanning the cafe, for the right moment to tell him.

His eyes dipped first to your pretty thighs, all soft and warm and new in his hand. Then he was taken by the all the sweetness in the way you looked at him.

"I wanna sleep with you."

You expected him to not believe you, like the first time, but his surprise was now pretty conventional.

His mouth hung open, just a little, and you noticed a tongue piercing. How did you miss it before? Did he not wear it at school? Your thighs tightened and he met it with a firm squeeze as he took a sobering drink of his coffee.

It was obvious he wanted to know why. But he was looking for something better to say, instead.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

That was a good question. Such a good question, in fact, that after a bit of conversation about where to go to fuck, you landed on going back to your place.

He made himself comfortable on your bed as you shut the door and locked it, just in case. Your room didn't have a whole lot of conversation starters, so he took a while to really examine it.

He wasn't witty, or spontaneous, or chatty.

There was no value in sitting around, acting like you wanted to delve into a discussion about each other's families, or grades, or volleyball.

His brow softened as you dropped the straps of your dress down.

There was a small attempt to look you in the eye, which you appreciated in a very limited context, but once you kept going, he might as well have been wearing a collar.

A half-sigh, half-laugh pushed out of his open mouth, brow furrowed again, as he tried to speak a few times while you posed for him, drunk on such a cute, endearing reaction.

There were a lot of things for him to think about. You could almost smell the smoke of grinding gears when you stood in front him and rubbed your hands against his shoulders.

He kept getting his fill, eyes unable to stay in one place too long, practically trying to back up so he could keep looking at all of you.

You giggled, "Kentarou?"

His breath stopped. You couldn't feel it, tingling across your skin, anymore.

You took some fingers to his curly hair, playing with it, "Aren't you gonna touch me?"

"I-," He didn't know what to do with himself for a moment, "Where?"

Your charmed, bitten back smile made his ears bright, bright red. Instead of telling him, you settled onto his lap and felt for his hands, gently guiding them towards your hips.

It was slow, natural, and gentle how you decided to kiss him.

You could feel how heated he was, with one hand on the back of his neck, the other cooling off the side of his face. One second to part for some breath, which he needed, badly- you waited for him to say something.

But he was forcing his mouth back onto yours quicker than you thought he would- his fingers dug into your flesh, and he brought you down onto his hard-on with a sudden loss of reservation.

It didn't take long to start catching that little tongue piercing against your lip- you groaned against his mouth, "Fuck, I really like that."

He was a fast, eager, and very rough learner. Kentarou was also laughably easy to please, because it was obvious he had no preferences built up yet. Everything you did left him stunned and hungry.

You reveled in your private victory and helped him undress. He wasn't shy about his own body, but you made it clear that he had a nice figure by taking the time to kiss along his muscular arm, then shoulder, and up to his neck.

His quickness to mirror you, kissing the same places on your body, was cute. He never once smiled, but he showed his investment in other ways.

When you offered to 69, he immediately fell onto his back from his upright position, rubbing his warm face.

A weak, "Yes," from under his palms was all you got, but it was so sweet from a guy like him. He sounded broken in, in a way.

You pressed a deserving kiss to his jaw and turned around.

His cock looked just as angry as he was, normally. Twitchy, leaking a bit of precum on his toned tummy, tinged dark with the all the time it had been waiting.

"You're- so fuckin' wet," He sounded stunned to say that aloud, understand what it actually meant, and that he was obsessed with it.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock as you settled into a good position.

How long had it been since you got laid? Apparently too long, because you were dripping with anticipation at the salty taste of his tip sliding past your teeth.

That was the downside of having such a specific type. Not many options.

He was still figuring out how to use his own mouth when you took the breath out of him- a strangled gasp at the sound, the sensation of your lips and tongue sucking off the slickness there. You held him by the base, briefly.

"You should let me know if you like it," You teased, just before bobbing your head back down.

"Mm-mmnh-! Fuck! Do I-ahh, have to?"

With that whiny tone?

You slowly came back up, careful to leave no spit behind. He was flexing in your jaw, his stomach twitching against your chest. Poor thing wouldn't last very long, he was so sensitive.

"Uhh, yes," You grinned, tongue darting out to lick him all the way down his shaft.

"Fuuuck- whatever- augh, just keep doin' that," His groan broke into a murmur of sorts, against your pussy.

From there, he was starting to find what worked with you. It was curious, and not great, but you didn't need it to be; something about the clingy way he held you, the shift in his attitude, was making you feel like you could take him already.

It made your nails dig, deep into his thighs, your already sparse breath grow a bit shorter.

Though his desperate tone and slow, gentle tongue made some parts of you tighten, it helped your throat relax and take more of him.

He started to come apart long before you wanted to be done.

Breathy, incomplete "Stopstop-sta-aah," every twenty seconds flattered you, letting you take more frequent breaks to ride his face and break in that little metal ball.

You thought about his nickname during one of these breaks. It was one of those instances where it seemed fitting, but for more than just surface-level aggression.

Nothing about him scared you. Not after you showed him that you had no ill-intention. He was like a dog. He wasn't vicious because it was in his nature; he just had a thorn in his paw.

He 'bit' people because they didn't give him a chance.

All of these chances you were giving him proved that he was worth all the effort to get close. It wasn't even much work, in hindsight.

You showed him the mechanics of the condom you brought for the occasion, and managed to talk him through some important sex-centered courtesies.

"So, y'know, you'll want to yield to whatever she's ready for--,"

Kentarou kept you from sitting on his cock, for just a second-- his eyes grew narrow, darting around your face.

"You mean: 'you.'" He corrected.

He looked like he was about to bite through your face.

"Right!" You smiled, growing a bit warm at your inconsiderate slip in language, "Yeah, of course."

Your apologetic kisses, smattered all along his sensitive face and neck, calmed him. His grip softened, slowly, as he became convinced that this was sacred again.

As you started to take him, he forgot all about it.

"Aughh- my go-d," He couldn't stop watching where you came together with a knotted brow, at how slick, and tight, and hot you were.

Your confidence read in the form of slow, rolling motions of your hips, the cloudy look in your eyes as you were finally getting filled up again after such a dry spell of no dick. You put your hands over his, already on your hips, and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

"Mmn-ah-h," You placed your hands on his chest, to keep yourself upright.

It hurt, how much he reciprocated that squeeze, but you quickly learned to like the sting.

Like most everything else, he replicated what you showed him. He started fucking you back, his hips able to take you faster, harder--

The pretty little pout on your lips was enough to make him screw his eyes shut, just to try to settle down.

He was getting so worked up at your tight little cunt that he was forced to let you keep your slower pace, contribute a little less, for fear he'd finish too soon.

His breath was like a stutter- so shallow and huffy that you rubbed your hand across his cheek, to check if he was okay. As you did this, the look in his eyes burned into the back of your skull.

You had seen that somewhere before. Not in someone you knew personally.

"Mm-mnh-!"

You were careful not to look away from it, and you only closed your eyes when it was too intense, too good to see straight.

The way he gripped you was like a lifeline, clawing, leaving rough and raised lines across you-- It wasn't intended to hurt, but more or less to make sure he left you with some lasting impression. He didn't understand that he didn't need to do it.

He couldn't take the concern on your face. Not as you fucked him so close, not with that perfect body taking his cock so well. Nobody ever looked at him with so much warmth.

"Ah! Just- just like that," You gasped, shaky all of a sudden.

"Fuck-," He sighed, suddenly having to remember what exactly he was doing.

He grimaced, face twisted in the pain of trying not to cum, head thrown back so he didn't have to look at you.

But your hand left his chest to grasp him by the jaw- it wasn't hard, but it was enough to move him. You begged him to look at you. You wanted him to watch you, and it looked like he was just short of a confessing something sinful.

Worship.

That's what you saw. In those narrowed eyes were praise, an exaltation of the love you had spared for him.

It filled you with a dizzying, raw confidence- you took in a breath through your nose, getting railed so hard, so close that your eyes started watering.

"Fuck- I'm-Ah--!" You couldn't quite finish your sentence before you crashed over, your body seized up, firm, grabbing and gripping him like you needed, wanted him so bad.

It left him a groveling, panting mess underneath you. He was watching in awe just like you told him to, only allowed to cum after you were done.

He fucked it all out of you, thanks to the timing. Your slow wave-riding kept you pleasant and buzzed as he fucked you hard for his own orgasm.

You even egged him on, breathless, a little smirk only interrupted by a pleasurable wince a couple of times.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Yeah? Yeah?"

After finishing so loud and performative, nothing could have prepared you for how cuddly and silent he got.

You shouldn't have given into the desire to hug him, because he wouldn't let you move to pull him out.

"Mm-mm," Was pressed in a sloppy kiss against your neck.

Those muscular arms were shaking a little, just barely, around your waist.

"I'm- not going anywhere," You laughed, returning a few light kisses against his temple, "But we need to clean up."

He made it difficult, almost impossible, to separate and throw the condom away. You opted to just tie in a knot and throw it closer to the trash can so you didn't have to get up.

The way he watched you was careful, intense, looking for any opening to get closer to you again.

You finally sighed, smiling, "Okay."

Kentarou pulled you back down to lay next to him at the soonest opportunity. He kept an arm heavy over your chest, his leg kicked between yours, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

His intensity was what you signed up for, but now, warm under his persistent and acute attention, you realized: maybe you hadn't thought this through the whole way.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu

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cxrsed-angel · 2 days ago

Text

Overtime

pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

rating: 18+

w.c: 2k

summary: You stay late after work with Joel at his construction office. (I suck at summaries, Joel and reader hookup in Joel's office after everyone leaves).

warning: No outbreak AU, Smut, P in V sex (unprotected), fingering, oral (male receiving), dbf ish!Joel, mention of age difference (Joel is like 40+, reader is 20+). Established relationship

a/n: first fic of 2025 🥳this is just porn with no plot that's been in my drafts sorry not sorry. Posting this in hopes it helps me get over my fear of posting fics on here and my forming hatred of this app. this was proof read by only me so sorry if they're mistakes. happy new year :)

You've been at the front desk all day organizing Joel’s clients for the projects and renovation, replying to emails, answering phones, doing your best to answer the questions you can, or forwarding the calls to Joel so he can explain what you can’t.

You’ve been his assistant at his construction office since you started college. Joel is a close friend of your dad’s and he had convinced Joel to hire you until you go back to college in the fall to help him organize and with his schedule. You answer the phone, reply to his emails, get his lunch, and do everyday assistant things. Instead, you found yourself bent over at his office desk as fucked you. Almost every day, after everyone had gone home for the day.

Once you see everyone else has left and it was just you and Joel. You go to Joel’s office and knock on his door. You slowly open it and see him behind his desk on his computer. You take a second looking at him, the gray hair mixing with his brown hair, the little bit of grey coming in on his beard. You never really had a thing for older guys…until now. You see him looking at his computer through the black frame glasses on his nose. He looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the desk.

“You can come in, don't worry. ‘Aint too busy.” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts of admiring him. You nod, closing the door behind you. He motions for you to come closer, and you waste no time going around his desk. You see emails and his digital ledger on the screen. Next to the computer, he has a large brown leather book, his physical ledger, because he’s yet to feel the need to go completely digital.

“You know you could probably make this into a spreadsheet. I could help instead of having this double thing you got going on.” You suggest as you open the old ledger, flipping through it. “How long have you had this thing, the 90s, the 80s, oh my god, since Kennedy?”

Joel closes it, rolling his eyes at the dig of his age and the systems he currently has. His hands go onto your waist, gently pulling you down to sit in his lap.

“My system has lasted me this long, so I’ll stick with it. Thank you very much. If it were up to me, everything would've remained paper. Damn, computer is hard to read and makes my eyes hurt lookin’ at it all day.” He turns you towards him a bit, changing your focus away from his computer. You lean down, kissing Joel, feeling the scruff of his greying beard against his face.

Feeling the blood rush in your body, the both of you have been waiting all day to have your hands on each other. He runs his hands up your skirt, bunching it up further on your thighs. You feel his bulge under you, growing harder as you continue making out passionately. His hands squeeze your thighs harder you feel his hard cock pressing against you.

“Seeing you in this fucking tight skirt all day was killing me, sweetheart. I just wanted to take you in here and fuck you on my desk.”

You continue kissing him, his hands moving down to your panties, his fingers tracing over your covered core, feeling your wetness. Joel kisses his neck.

“So wet already?…” He pulls your underwear down, tossing it with your skirt on his office floor.

His eyebrows raise, looking at you as his fingers rub along the outside of your folds. You shift, humping against his hand for more relief focusing on how good his finger felt rubbing your swollen and needy clit.

You whine incoherently, mumbling at his words, words failing to form as you get more aroused. He slowly slides two of his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out of your aching pussy; hearing the wetness forming, you melt against him, your back pressing against his chest as he spreads your legs while you're sitting in his lap.

“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to give this needy pussy attention. This pretty little pussy needed me, I can tell? Wanted me to finger fuck under the desk while I’m talking to my clients?” you moan more as he slides a second finger stretching you out. He feels your wetness coat his finger as he thrusts them inside, curling up and reaching your sensitive spot.

You cry out more. “Joel Joel, Joel!” moaning out his name, your mouth opens, forming an O as he continues fucking you with his fingers feeling your climax building, but the feeling fades as you feel his fingers leave your dripping pussy. You groan disappointedly as you feel. You pout, looking back at him at the arousal still clouding your brain.

“Relax, relax. I’ll give ya what you want soon.” he places a hand on your shoulder, gently moving you off the familiar seat of his lap. You look at him, your face flush as you feel the room getting hotter.

He softly kisses you quickly before his hard cock straining through his jeans as you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and pulling them down along with his boxers. He stares down at you, his eyes full of lust as he watches you spit in your hand before slowly stroking his big cock, teasing him. He rolls his eyes back as he leans in the chair.

After jerking him off, for a little you place his hard length in between your lips. You slowly insert the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it and tasting the salty precum on your tongue.

Joel groans as you tease him, not being able to take it anymore. He shoves his dick deeper into your mouth, making you choke. You followed his pace, bobbing your head up and down the length of his shaft, using your hands to jerk off the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it. Attagirl, Take it all. Know you can.” You listen, taking him deeper in the back of your throat, your eyes watering. You relax, hallowing your cheeks; his office is filled with the sound of you gaging around his cock.

“F-fuck, sweetheart, your mouth feels so good. You enjoy this, aren’t ya, sucking the cock of a man twice your age?”

You nod, trying to agree as he continues using your mouth; you look up at him and see his eyes rolling back closed as his chest heaves, still praising you as you suck him off. His grunts and moans get louder; he starts fucking your mouth for a bit, thrusting his cock deeper before letting you come up to catch your breath, taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Fuck baby…bet your dad didn’t expect you to be on your knees for me every day after work when he suggested you come work for me, huh.”

You wipe your mouth as you hear his joke, still on your knees, his hand still on your head, rubbing your hair. “Just don't let it slip out on guys' night after a few beers. Don't know who he’d be more mad at, me or you.”

You push the thought of anyone finding out about you and Joel in the back of your mind; you don’t want to think about what your dad will say or how he’ll scold you for sleeping with his best friend and your boss.

He laughs as he grabs your hand, helping you stand up; he kisses you sloppy, crashing his lips onto yours. Tasting himself on your lips. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna tell him.”

He holds your waist, unzipping your skirt and helping you step out of it. He moves it out of the way before moving you towards the desk; he watches you bend over the desk, can’t resist the urge to stare at your ass, he squeezes it before landing another smack on it.

“You ready, baby girl?” he asks softly, still caressing your lower back. You nod, looking back at him.

“Yes, yes, Joel, please. I need you,” you whine, not being able to wait any longer. Instead of giving in to what you want, Joel laughs lightly.

“Sorry, baby, I couldn't hear you; what do you need?” He taunts you as he runs a finger along your folds, making you whimper as frustrated as his teasing.

“Joel! Oh my god, just fuck me-” Your snappy sentence is cut short, interpreted by his big cock slowly entering the tip inside you; both of you gasp as he pushes more of his length inside you.

“You just don't know when to shut up, do you, baby? I told you I’d give you want.” His voice is deep and condensing, which arouses more if you're being honest.

He moves his hips a bit more, and your moans fill his office. And you feel him bottom out inside you, but he doesn't move, letting you get used to his size. After a minute, you nod, letting him know you could move. He slowly moves his hips, thrusting inside you, and you moan more as you feel him deep inside.

“F-Fuck Joel, you’re so big. Feel you so deep,” Joel growls as his hips start moving faster; he grips your hips tightly fucking into you more. Joel’s office desk rattles underneath you from the force Joel was fucking you.

“I know, baby, I know, baby. God, You feel so good. How’re you so tight every time? ‘Feel you clenching ‘round me, sweetheart.” his thrust gets faster.

“Fuck-fuck Joel right there.” you moan as his hard cock stretches you out. You hear him groan as he fucks you harder after hearing the name. He pushes you down onto his desk, moving his papers and construction plans out of the way, off to the side. You feel his hand grab one of your legs, lifting it up onto the desk. The new angle has you feel more of him deeper inside your sensitive core; the arousal builds as you feel your release building, and Joel can, too.

“Fuck…Joel…I’m-I’m.” You moan and whine as Joel continues thrusting inside you, helping you reach your release. He reaches a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit as he continues fucking into you, bringing you closer to your climax.

“C’mon baby, I feel you squeezing ‘round me. Know you’re close. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

You feel the knot in your lower stomach and hold on the desk as you cum around Joel’s cock. Your orgasm hits hard, and closing your eyes, you shudder, coming down from your release.

“That’s it honey, that’s it. Good girl, fuck baby, ‘m not gonna last much longer, Jesus-.” Joel grunts as his thrust gets more and more sloppier. Joel presses deep inside you. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as cums. His warm load releases inside your sensitive cunt. You both let out a moan together before relaxing against his desk. You feel him slide out of him, you breathing heavily.

Joel slowly pulls out after taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath. He lets out a low groaning “Goddamn.”

He sits back on the chair. He gently grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. You turn, pulling Joel into a kiss.

“I love you, sweetheart, but we gotta head out before the alarm comes on.” You nod, kiss his cheek, and then down his neck, feeling his hands on your waist.

“You don’t know the alarm code to your own construction office?” you ask a bit skeptically, but Joel just laughs and hands your skirt to you from the floor.

“I know the code, smartass, just don't feel like messing with the damn thing.” he explains as he’s cleaning you off with a tissue. You nod before leaving his lap, putting your skirt and underwear back on as Joel adjusts his pants.

“Oh shit, almost forgot. The Smiths said they want to change the hardwood they chose because they don’t think it matches the new wallpaper and wanted to expand the kitchen..” Joel turns his computer off, grabs his coat, and his hand goes to your waist, leading you out of his office. He listens to you tell him about the client from earlier. Ushering you out the door to his truck.

“Honey… I don't work after 5 p.m., so you don't work after 5 p.m., come on.” He opens the passenger seat of his truck before getting in the driver's seat.

“I know, I just need to write it down so I don’t forget my boss is a real hard ass.” Joel rolls his eyes at your teasing, as he pulls out of the office parking lot leaving, to take you home.

#joel <3 #angel writes #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller one shot #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #pedro pascal joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us au #tlou #joel miller x f!reader

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formulawolff · 2 days ago

Text

celebrity — l.h.

pairing -> fem!reader x lewis hamilton

word count -> 2.2k

warnings -> lewis in bf mode, slight angst, cursing, alcohol usage, marijuana use, sexual innuendos, lewis is a FLIRT, reader is slightly insecure, some tears, hurt + comfort (THE BEST TROPE EVER)

a/n -> i am well aware this is not in the garage, but i just can’t stop thinking about this concept. i hope i did it justice!

“you look beautiful.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks, your palms clamming as his hand drifts toward your thigh, grasping the heated skin. he flashes you a smirk as his thumb delves underneath the fabric of your gown.

“easy there,” you murmur, head connecting with his shoulder, “we don’t want to be late.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“i think a few minutes wouldn’t—“

“lewis.” you tut, and he picks up the way your eyes roll in the rear view mirror, “i’m already an anxious wreck. now is not the time.”

“i’m just trying to put a smile on that sweet face,” he counters, yet his tone is light, “you’ve just been so uptight today. all i’ve seen for hours is that tight-lipped frown. the one you wear when you’re dreading something or super worried.”

you shrug, gaze darting toward the passenger window, “i just hate work-related events. especially around the holidays. why do they even matter?”

as fate would have it, your boyfriend, lewis hamilton, would be accompanying you to a gala hosted by your agency. it was the annual holiday ball, where all of the employees were invited to dress their best, encouraged to bring along a plus one.

due to lewis’ hectic schedule during the year, it was difficult to find a window of time to see one another. add in a time zone difference along with your own line of work, and it was almost impossible.

however, lewis made no exceptions when it came to you.

if it was something involving you, he would find time.

no matter what.

and just a couple of days ago, he flew into chicago, so that he could be with you for all of the holiday celebrations. although you had only been dating for about a year, you knew it was time to introduce him to not only your family, but your coworkers as well.

so what better way to introduce him than a work-related party?

yet, it wasn’t that easy.

lewis was no ordinary man. he was a seven time world champion, a highly decorated and coveted athlete in his sport. he spent his weekends driving at speeds well over two hundred miles an hour. he was sponsored by tommy hilfiger, owned a brand, and was even knighted.

he was well-known all around the world, even by those who were not formula one fans.

everyone knew sir lewis hamilton.

and what the world didn’t know, was that he had a girlfriend.

an american girl, merely twenty-three years old.

so naturally, you were a little apprehensive about tonight.

especially if people started to snap photos and post them.

that aspect was the most terrifying part of it all. what would people think? what would his fans say about you? what rumors would the tabloids and gossip pages spin?

how would people perceive you? how would they see your relationship with lewis? would they hate you? like you? think you’re pretty? what if lewis broke up with you because you weren’t good enough for his fans?

what if?

his hand squeezes your thigh, bringing you back to earth, “they’re important because your coworkers are like a second family. i know that sounds corny, but it’s true, especially at an agency like yours.

you guys see one another for nearly forty hours a week. i think it’s only fair you attend one work-related event. even around the holidays. who knows, some of your coworkers may not even have a family to come home to. so that’s why they enjoy events like this.”

letting out a huff, you shift your body to your right, in the direction of the window. a brassy chuckle rumbles in his throat, flowing from his plush lips.

“you know i’m right, love. that’s why you’re pouting over there.”

inhaling a sharp breath, you then exhale, shaking your head. the words are low, barely a whisper.

“maybe it’s because i don’t want everyone at work knowing about my private life.”

“oh baby girl,” lewis hums. you feel his grip on your thigh tighten, “is that what’s been bothering you?”

“y-yeah.”

your lower lip trembles, promising of tears. the golden lights of the city morph together as your vision blurs, the car soaring down lake shore drive. a steady hand dials the volume of the music down, his arm intertwining with yours.

just for a second, you feel his eyes pull away from the road, taking in the way you’re practically clinging to him, desperate for some comfort.

“talk to me love. tell me what’s going on.”

“i-i just,” you stammer, choking back sobs, “i just don’t like how my worlds are colliding. it makes me scared because it feels so… so… serious. i am terrified that you’re not going to like it here. or that you’re not going to like me.. the real me. and i just don’t want you to be bothered all night by people gawking or pointing or whispering.”

before you can even register what’s happening, lewis is pulling into the venue. as he places the car in park, waiting for the valet, you notice his jaw tighten, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

his brows are pinched together, his lips slightly pursed. his body shifts, the chain resting on his collarbone glittering in the low light. his chest heaves, almost as if he was panting, fighting something he couldn’t quite control.

almost as if his inhibitions were crumbling away by the second.

fingers curl around the base of your neck, pulling you in close. lewis cocks his head, tongue running along his lips as he studies you.

your pupils are wide, irises slightly glossy from the tears and the half-smoked joint tucked away in your clutch. your lips glimmer, shiny from the new lip oil he bought.

it was a shade he picked out hours ago, one that suited you oh so perfectly. he was satisfied with that pick, as it brought out colors in your eyes he never had noticed before. they were absolutely stunning, nearly pulling him in as he slowly fell further and further under your spell.

your hair was swept into an elegant style, one that you had never worn for him before. the way you managed to pull just about anything off left him speechless, struggling to find the words as his gaze wandered.

the gown clinging to your frame was stunning. it was a simple black piece adorned with crystal detailing on the bodice, sleeves, and skirt. it was a piece by elie saab, one of the top designers in the realm of gowns. very slyly, he was able to get your measurements one day on a whim, sending them over as quickly as possible.

he researched dozens upon dozens of gems and crystals so that he could find colors that reminded him of you. it was a gown that took months to perfect, as lewis started the moment you texted him about the event. he even had it flown over to the states with him, just so that he knew it wouldn’t get misplaced or damaged.

it was a one-of-one piece, made specifically for you and only you.

and to lewis, that was priceless.

he couldn’t tell you that, though. it was his little secret, meant to be divulged when he felt the moment was right.

“lewis,” the way his name falls from your lips is enticing, dripping with a sweetness he found himself addicted to, “they need to park the car.”

“oh,” he blinks, realizing that the attendant was waiting right outside, “shit. sorry.”

gritting your teeth, your can feel your heart thudding as lewis slips out of the car, chirping a greeting to the attendant. he makes his way around the front end, opening the door on your right.

he offers you his arm, bearing a wide smile. one of his trademark grins that nearly had you melting, your knees buckling as you took a step forward.

the agency you worked for was able to rent the art institute for the evening, transforming it to a wondrous winter-themed ball. all around there was a warm glow from candles, illuminating the vast space with golden light. people mill about, laughter intermingling with the clinking of glasses and music.

as you cling on to lewis, you feel your muscles tense, the pit in your stomach only growing by the second. fuck, there were more people than you expected. and of course, heads were starting to turn. ducking your head, you avoid any eye contact, hoping that lewis locates your table as soon as humanly possible.

this was just too much.

“easy there love,” his mouth ghosts over your ear, “i got you. i promise.”

“as long as you promise,” you mutter, shrinking slightly as you pass by a few people from the agency. there are a few gasps, hushed murmurs erupting as he manages to find your table, pulling your chair out.

“lewis, they’re staring.”

“let them."

in that moment, you want to sink into the chair. maybe even into the floor. beside you, lewis takes your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering them with tender kisses.

"you want a drink? it may help."

exhaling a shaky breath, your eyes dart around, noticing a cluster of your coworkers approaching the table. yet, you feel his attention remain solely on you, paying no mind to the women starting to swarm around. his fingers massage into your hand, his shoe pressed against your heel.

"why didn't you tell us you were dating a celebrity?"

"you're dating lewis hamilton? how long have you been dating? how did you meet?"

"i can't believe you didn't share this with us!"

lewis' head tilts upward, dimples forming as he flashes them a dazzling smile, "me? a celebrity? i'm not so sure about that. you may have me mistaken for someone else."

"no," your coworker, vanessa, shakes her head, "i know exactly who you are. you're sir lewis hamilton. seven-time formula world champion."

"how did you manage to land him?" another one of your coworkers arches a brow, "because never in a million years would i have--"

"i'm with her because i love her," lewis cuts in, his kindness rapidly dissolving into a polite yet firm tone, "it shouldn't matter what she does for work, or if she's an influencer or model. fuck, she could be unemployed and i wouldn't care. i love her for who she is. that's how she 'landed me.' she's absolutely wonderful. now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to go over to the bar."

your coworkers' eyes widen, their mouths clamping shut as lewis dips his head, motioning for you to get up. his hands grip the back of your seat, tugging the chair toward him. rising to your feet, you take his hand, fighting to maintain a straight face.

once you were out of earshot, lewis clears his throat, "how about we ditch this and go out to eat? how does that sound? we could go to that one restaurant you have been begging me to take you to."

"are you sure?" you press, "i don't want to make you feel as if i dragged you all the way out here only to stay for--"

"don't worry about it love," the driver leads you toward the exit, carefully discarding his suit jacket, "here, you'll need this. it was a bit nippier than i expected out."

as he drapes the jacket around your shoulders, you can't help but feel your heart swell, bliss rippling in your chest. taking your clutch out of your grasp, he holds onto it, clicking his tongue.

"a beautiful woman like you should never have to hold her bag. let me flag down the valet, and then we can go out. just you and me, yeah?"

the corners of your lips twitch, curling into a meek smile, "i would really like that."

"then it's settled," fishing his phone out of his pocket, his eyes scan over the sign resting on the podium, dialing the number for the attendant, "just so you know, people may snap some photos while we're out. are you okay with that? is it going to bother you? if so, then we can just go back to your place and order some--"

"i think i'll manage," you can't help but giggle at his concern, "as long as you hold my hand, i'll be fine."

"oh my love," a hand drifts toward your cheek, cupping it. the pad of his thumb caresses your cheekbone, the driver's heart fluttering as you nuzzle into his palm.

"your celebrity boyfriend loves you very much. you know that?"

"i do," you nod, "and i love my celebrity boyfriend. oh so much."

lewis leans in, his lips nearly on yours. his eyes lock with yours, his nose studs glinting as your head instinctively tilts back, anticipating what was to come next. he catches the shimmer of stars bursting in your depths as the tip of nose brushes yours.

"i'm not sure how much longer your celebrity boyfriend can contain himself. especially when you're so fucking stunning. i can't bear it a second longer. i need you."

"then kiss me," you counter, "and if someone sees, oh well."

"oh yeah?" he taunts, "you want someone to see?"

"maybe," heat rises in your cheeks as his lips tease yours, "maybe it's time that people know lewis hamilton has a girlfriend."

a chuckle rings out, lewis bringing you closer as the valet turns around the corner, the car approaching closer and closer.

"oh my love, i think it's time the entire world knows."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 #lh44 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton #formula 1 fanfiction

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deathofpeaceofmiiind · 1 day ago

Text

Kill my time // Quinn Hughes

In a city full of lonely people, I just want you all to myself

summary: birthday celebrations causing jealousy while struggling to turn a certain age

warnings: drinking, clubbing, smut (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe I’m going to a bar like I’m in my early twenties again.”

I smoothed my dress down, picking apart everything wrong with me as I looked in the mirror. Turning thirty felt like my world was about to collapse, and what made it worse was knowing my boyfriend was only turning twenty five just two days after me.

“Not to mention with a bunch of guys who are twenty one.” My roommate added as she fixed us a couple of drinks. I saw her bring out a bottle of tequila, knowing I was going to be in for a long night.

“Ugh, what did I get myself into?”

“Girl, it’s fine! Quinn doesn’t care about your age so why should you?” She asks, passing me whatever concoction she made. A took a small sip, realizing it was tequila and soda…more like tequila with a splash of soda.

Deep down I knew she was right, because when I told Quinn I was older than him it didn’t phase him at all, I completely expected him to run. He told me the idea of being with someone older was a big turn on for him, something he didn’t discover until he met me. As for me, it didn’t matter what age the men were I dated, they were all extremely immature. I knew it was a risk with Quinn but he definitely didn’t act like men his age. After all he was the captain of an NHL team, he had to have a strong head on his shoulders.

An hour later I was making my way through a busy drunken crowd, holding onto Quinn’s hand for dear life. For whatever reason, his teammates chose this club to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wouldn’t have been my first choice, and I don’t think Quinn was thrilled on it either but he was too quiet to say anything. We always made the best of a bad situation and I knew tonight wouldn’t be any different. House music and lights were bouncing off the walls, making it hard to focus on where we were going. We finally got into our booth and a heavy sigh left me, I definitely wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Quinn’s velvet voice echoed in my ear, calming my nerves. His eyes were bright green, almost enchanting as they peered into mine. My face grew hot, wondering how it was humanly possible for someone to be this gorgeous.

“Yeah it’s just been a while.” I wasn’t lying either. I spent most of my time in breweries with my friends since most of us were over going to clubs. Quinn likes to tell me he doesn’t like going out, but give him a few drinks and he makes a liar out of himself.

He pulled me closer to him, so close I could feel his stubble on my neck. “I won’t leave your side at all, I promise.”

“Okay.” I nodded before he gently brushed his lips over mine. I got lost in our own little world, the music melted away and I forgot we were in the middle of a busy club surrounded by strangers.

“Let’s celebrate, it’s your birthday after all.”

I rolled my eyes, “it’s also yours in two days.”

“Yeah, but …” his words trail off as he runs the pad of his thumb over my lip, “today brought me you.”

“How does it feel to be with a thirty year old?” The words falling last my lips causing my eyes to roll again. That number just didn’t sit right with me. “I’m officially an old lady.”

“Thirty has never looked better.” He mused, his hand running up my hip and pressing me closer to him. I pulled him into another kiss, his cologne hit me like a tidal wave causing butterflies in my stomach. His hand ran up my neck and gripped me tighter while his tongue begged to enter my mouth. We stayed like that, blissfully unaware of reality until his teammates came over with trays of various shots.

“Okay lover boy that’s enough. Let’s get you drunk.”

One thing about partying with hockey players is all of them have no limits when it comes to spending. I had to finally stop accepting every shot they brought around after the room began to spin. Best part of the night though was that the Devils were in town, so Jack and Luke, Quinn’s brothers were here to celebrate with everyone. This was only my second time meeting them but they were extremely welcoming and treated me like I was their sister. Jack at one point asked me to go dance with him and I couldn’t help but say yes.

“So how does it feel to be thirty?” Jack yelled into my ear as we danced to one of my favourite John Summit songs.

“Terrible. I’m almost a decade older than you!”

“You make thirty look so good though.” He smirks as Luke came behind me and picked me up, causing me to scream at him to put me down. As much as I fought he kept me over his shoulder.

“I just want you to know we fucking love you and you make my brother so happy.” Luke added as he finally put me down, the room was still spinning so I had to brace myself against him to make it stop.

“Thanks buddy.” I jumped a little, feeling Quinn’s hand on my back. His face was flushed, telling me he was taking shots without me.

“Can I have my girlfriend back now?”

“Sorry bro!” Luke kissed the top of my head before him and Jack ran off to grab more drinks.

“You okay?” I asked Quinn as I turned to him, he smelt like whiskey and honey as he brought his lips to my neck.

“I will be.” He mumbles, burrowing his face into my neck. “I’m glad my brothers like you, but you’re my girlfriend. Not theirs.”

“Do you think they’re gonna steal me?” I clasped my mouth, trying to hold in my laughter because I know he was being serious. It was downright adorable.

“Maybe.”

“But I’m yours” I assured him, pressing closer to his body. My hands teaching behind his neck, slipping stands of his hair between my fingers. “No one will ever steal me from you.”

“Prove it.” He replied with such confidence, not taking his eyes off my lips. His hands reached up to my hips, pressing me even closer to him. I gasped as I felt his erection brush up against my leg, “come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” He mumbled, his eyes glazed with desire and whatever was in his system. I grabbed his hand, not knowing where he was taking me.

Quinn guided me into a private bathroom and locked the door. His hand brushed gently over my chest, hooking his finger under the strap of my dress. I watched him with intent, my heart pounding so fast I was surprised he didn’t feel it.

“You belong to me.” He whispered, slowly bringing me closer to him. My hands braced onto his chest as he captured my mouth into a kiss that started off sweet but grew sloppy.

“Let’s not wait then, birthday boy.”

He smirked so devilishly that I felt something more than butterflies in my stomach. Our kisses were met with biting of lower lips and Quinn grabbed my dress so tight I thought it was going to split. I wasted no time and began to unbutton his pants, dropping to my knees in the process. His dick sprung out of his boxers, dripping with pre-cum as my eyes widened.

“Stick your tongue out baby.”

My exposed tongue was met with his tip as he gently circled over my taste buds. I could taste him already, it was making my mouth salivate and run down my chin.

“Such a good girl.” He breathed as his free hand tugged on my hair. “Open your mouth for me.”

I did as I was told and Quinn slowly slid his erection into my mouth, inch by inch until his tip hit the back of my throat. He bit his lip as I began to slide my mouth up and down, his grip on my hair getting tighter.

“Fuck, baby this feels so good.” He deeply moaned, making me feel it in the back of my throat. “Such a good girl taking my whole dick in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

I could tell he was getting close with how laboured his breathing became. I removed my mouth from him and began to lick his tip that was glistening with my spit. He looked down at me with pleading eyes, as if me mouth fucking him was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Come in my mouth Quinn, I know what you want to.”

“Not yet.” His voice sounded so husky as he motioned for me to stand up. I wiped my mouth, taking a long look at him. “Your turn birthday girl.”

I couldn’t help but giggle as he picked me up and sat me on the bathroom counter. My back rested against the mirror as he spread my legs, situating himself between them. When our eyes met my heart felt like it was going to explode, I’ve never seen him like this before.

“How bad do you need me right now?” He asked, slowly taking my lip between his teeth again.

“I need you so fucking badly.”

He makes his home between my thighs and begins to tease me with his tip. I regretted wearing underwear tonight but feeling his pre cum soak the lace was the sweetest form of torture, and he knew it. 

“Tell me again…how bad do you need me?” I couldn’t get a word out. His laugh was dark as he fluttered his somber eyes at me, “use your words sweetheart, what do you want for your birthday?”  “I want you.”  “That’s a good start.” He muses, applying pressure on my thighs with his thumbs, “where do you want me?”

No words were leaving me as I gasped for air. Quinn began to run his mouth over my jaw, down to my collarbone, nipping slightly at the skin. I grabbed his hand and guided it between my thighs, his thumb instantly pressing onto my underwear.

“Right there?” He asks, slowly moving my underwear to the side. A small gasp in satisfaction left him as he felt how soaked I was for him. I just nodded, whimpering already from his touch. “Tell me how much you wish this was my dick instead?”

“Quinn, I need you please … I’m yours.”

“That’s my girl.” He replied so proudly, pushing his tip inside of me slowly. His head falls back once he’s fully inside me and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “Fuck you feel so good, so fucking good.”  Quinn started off slowly, teasing my clit simultaneously with each stroke. He leaned into my ear, continuously praising me as his strokes became faster and harder. Sweat rolled down me as the building started up in my stomach, that familiar flutter began to take over and I knew I was done for. My nails dug into his back as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder as my orgasm left my body.

“Fuck I’m gonna -“

It only took a few seconds before he spilled into me. His hands gently found my face, guiding me to look at him. My legs were still shaking as he kissed me so softly. I was in a complete haze as we broke apart, that one unruly strand of hair fell in front of his face as he studied me. He was so beautiful, there were no other words to describe him.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He mused, gently kissing all the tattoos on my arm. Funny thing,

I never thought he’d go for a girl with a full sleeve and dark hair like me. He struck me as someone who went for blonde Instagram models but, once again he proved me wrong.

“You definitely just gave me the best birthday present ever.” I lightly laughed.

He titled his head to the side, cupping my cheek, “I don’t think anything will be beat the gift you gave me.”

“What’s that?”

“You.”

#fanfic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut

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urmum-lovesme · 2 days ago

Text

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P9

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Is it too late now to say sorry... upside of this chapter, we get some of the Pogues in it we love our queen Sarah :) Downside of this chapter well... then end (actually maybe the whole thing) :/. Happy birthday to my girl y/n, Rafe on the other hand, well I have no comment, I don't wanna see the guy after this chapter I hate him so much he's so destructive. (this is so season 2 Rafe)

warnings: ANGST!!! alcohol, mentions of deceased brother, mentions of overdosing, smoking, drugs (weed, cocaine), drug abuse, strong language (bitch, slut junkie ect), making out, mommy issues :(, references to past trauma, rafe being an asshole, violence (a slap, shoving someone, grabbing someone, smashing glass).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since that day at the hut, and the atmosphere between Y/N and Rafe remained heavy with unspoken words. The gap where their banter used to be was almost unbearable, the girl avoided him, not out of anger but because she simply didn’t know what to say. The words she wanted to speak felt trapped in her throat, tangled with emotions she couldn’t quite name. When they were with the group she wore her brightest smiles and laughed a little louder than usual, as though she could drown out the tension with forced cheer. Her efforts worked well enough to maintain the surface-level peace, but beneath her facade the strain weighed on her. Their friends weren’t blind. Kelce and Topper could see it in the way they avoided each other’s eyes; conversations between the two were clipped and strained, only happening when absolutely necessary. It was like watching two people perform a carefully rehearsed play, one with no emotion behind the lines.

Cooper had noticed.

He wasn’t as oblivious, watching Y/N navigate this awkward dance with Rafe made something twist in his chest, he felt pity for the girl, knowing how much she cared about the boy and how close they’d always been. Still, if he were being honest, part of him didn’t mind the shift. The distance between Y/N and Rafe had given him a chance to step in, to be the one she leaned on, even if only a little. He wasn’t proud of how much he enjoyed the- ‘unfortunate’ situation the girl was in but the small moments they shared made up for it, like when she laughed at his jokes or tilted her head closer to hear him speak. Those fleeting interactions sent a thrill through him that he couldn’t ignore. He knew he was toeing a line, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what might happen if things stayed the way they were.

One humid evening, the five of them were lounging by Kelce’s pool. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. The backyard was the perfect hangout spot—spacious, with the cool water offering relief from the heat and a bar stocked with anything they could want. Yet, despite that, the tension between Y/N and Rafe was inescapable, the space by Y/n’s side which was often occupied by the boy was now replaced by Cooper, whose hand rested over the back of the seat.

Anger bubbled in Rafe's chest, but it wasn’t the kind of fury he could direct outward—it twisted inward instead, sharp and self-inflicted. He was the one who’d told her he didn’t want her. The memory of that moment was seared into his mind, the expression on her face when he’d told her, told her the repulsive lie about them being friends, was always present in his mind; when he went to sleep, when he woke in the morning, it never left. He had no one to blame but himself.

“So Princess,”

Topper began, breaking the quiet as he turned his attention to Y/N. The nickname rolled off his tongue with a teasing familiarity, drawing a faint smile from her. He’d been watching her and Rafe long enough to sense the shift, though he kept his observations to himself. Rafe was his best friend, and Y/N was practically family. Of course, he noticed when something was off.

“A special day is coming up…”

He added, his tone playful as he referred to her birthday, just a week away. Y/N met Topper’s gaze, her expression carefully neutral. Kelce and Cooper perked up at his words, their curiosity piqued.

“Oh, yeah,” Kelce chimed in, smirking. “I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“Isn’t it like a national holiday on the island or something..?”

Cooper added in mock seriousness his eyebrows furrowing as though in thought. Y/N rolled her eyes at their antics, hand coming out to shove the boy sitting next to her though her lips twitched into a faint smile. She wasn’t annoyed; their teasing was harmless, even endearing.

“You guys are ridiculous.”

She muttered, leaning back into her chair. Topper chuckled, swirling his drink lazily in his hand.

“So, have you decided what you’re doing?”

Y/N straightened slightly, placing her drink on the small stool beside her. “Well,” she began, “my parents aren’t going to be home for my birthday, going away to Georgia to see family friends or something.” A sly smile played on her lips as she watched their reactions.

“Which means…I have a free house.”

Kelce let out a low whistle, his grin widening. Cooper leaned forward, his smirk practically splitting his face.

“Free house?” Kelce said, pointing his drink at her. “You’re throwing a party, right?”

“Definitely,” Y/N said with a laugh, shaking her head at how predictable they were. “And I’m inviting everyone- Kook, Pogue, I don’t care.” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Gonna be the event of the summer.” Kelce said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Finally giving the people what they want,” Cooper joked, his grin widening. Y/N leaned slightly toward Cooper, a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Oh, did I say you were invited?” she quipped, one brow arching as a smirk tugged at her lips. Cooper feigned a look of hurt at her tease, putting a hand over his heart

"What? You wouldn't invite me to your birthday? I thought we were good friends," he said, emphasising his words, glass lifting to his lips to sip at the drink. She had to suppress a smile at the boys words,

“I don't know I guess I could deal with you for one night”

Cooper smirked, bringing his glass down to rest on his thigh, leaning in closer to her ear as he spoke.

“One night, huh? I think you’ll want more than that,” his voice low so only the girl could hear. She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked up to him, stomach fluttering slightly at his words.

Stop that

She gave him a slow nod, tongue coming out to wet her lips before she spoke, “That's some pretty high stakes you're setting there Miller.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he sitting back slightly, “I don’t mind a challenge”

The conversation around the pool flowed in and out of different topics, with Kelce rambling on about something completely pointless—something about a new car he was eyeing.

It doesn’t matter

Rafe’s mind was elsewhere, his focus nowhere near Kelce’s words, his eyes drifting to the side, finding Y/N and Cooper. They were talking, laughing. Y/N leaned in slightly, her smile bright, her posture relaxed as she engaged with Cooper, who was leaning just a bit closer than normal. His fingers curled into a fist around the edge of his drink, the ice rattling against the glass as his jaw tightened. He fought to maintain his composure, but a feeling gnawed at him, sharp and uncomfortable. It was jealousy, unmistakable and burning, bubbling beneath the cold surface of his expression. He watched as Cooper casually brushed his arm against Y/N’s, and the way she didn’t pull away, her eyes locked onto his, the same glint of teasing in her gaze that Rafe had always known so well. He was drawn out of his haze by the girl's voice, her eyes looking at him, dropping down to the glass in his grip, which he loosened.

“Hm?” he questioned, looking at the girl.

“You're coming as well right?” she questioned the boy's head tilting slightly as she spoke and at her question, his eyes flicked up to meet hers,

"Yeah, I'll be there. Wouldn't miss your birthday."

He sent her a tight lipped smile which she reciprocated.

Awkward

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days merged seamlessly together as the big day approached, the whole island was buzzing with excitement, and it seemed like no one could stop talking about the infamous ‘Kook Princess’s Birthday.’ Word had spread quickly, as it always did when it came to events like this- Y/N's parties were always the event of the year, and this one promised to be no different. Every corner of the island was abuzz with gossip- Kooks and Pogues alike, the party appearing to be a middle ground for the feud between them- and even if someone wasn’t invited, they knew someone who was and were sure to be brought along as a plus one.

JJ lay back in the hammock, his hands lazily fiddling with a packet of rolling papers, pulling one out as he spoke

“So, we going or not?”

He called, his voice a mix of impatience and amusement, the hammock swaying gently beneath him. His fingers expertly rolled the paper, his focus briefly shifting to the task at hand. Pope, sitting on a log beside him, looked up from where he was lounging, taking a sip from his drink.

“I mean, Y/N seems pretty chill about it. I don’t see why not.” He paused, glancing around at the others. “But I thought it was invite-only, so—”

“She invited me,”

Sarah called out from where she’d plopped herself down into John B’s lap, her legs tangled with his. He let out a small 'oof,' surprised by the suddenness of her action, but wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

“She did?”

Kie and JJ spoke in unison, both turning their heads toward Sarah with wide eyes. Kie shot a glance at JJ, who was now half hanging out of the hammock, raising an eyebrow. He winked at her, clearly pleased with Sarah’s news.

“Yeah, Y/N’s really sweet,” Sarah replied with a shrug, her tone casual but sincere. “I don’t talk to her much, I guess, ‘cause she’s always with Topper and Rafe, but she’s cool.”

The names 'Topper' and 'Rafe' caused Pope to pause, his fingers scratching at his cheek as his brows furrowed in thought. “So... your brother is going to be there?” he asked, glancing over at Sarah.

JJ, who had just been about to take a hit from his joint, let out a low whistle.

"If Rafe is there we all know what's going down."

Kie looked over to the boy eyebrows raised in questioning, Pope put his drink down as he stared at the boy as he adjusted himself in the hammock, his hands moving around to mimic someone holding themselves as he dramatically moaned out,

“Oh, yes, Rafe! Don’t stop—Oh, fuck, yes—oh Rafey!”

The others groaned collectively, rolling their eyes at JJ’s antics, with Pope giving an exasperated sigh.

“C’mon, man, don’t do Y/N like that,” John B said with a stern look, pulling his can away from his lips as Sarah took it from him, taking a sip herself.

“Well, I don’t even know if Rafe is going to be there,” Sarah said, raising her hands defensively as she looked at them.

“What?” Pope asked, sitting up slightly, his interest piqued.

“I don’t know,” Sarah continued. “I just think something’s off between them. He’s been super grumpy lately, and a couple days ago, he smashed a bunch of stuff in the kitchen. My dad was pissed,” she added, the others listening closely now.

“Wow,” Kie said, shaking her head. “And a couple of days ago, Y/N showed up at The Wreck with Cooper Miller.”

“The guy from New York?” John B asked, sitting up a little straighter now, his attention fully caught.

“Yeah,” Kie nodded, her voice dropping to a lower tone, “and they were in a booth together, all giggly and everything. Kinda... flirty too.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at that, flicking the lighter on and off as he passed the joint around. “Damn,” Pope muttered, eyes glancing over at the blonde next to him, who was now blowing smoke into the air, his face unreadable. JJ, completely unbothered, took another hit and then wandered over to the group in the circle, offering the joint to Sarah and John B.

“We gon’ get lit tonight. I know Kooks always bring the good stuff, huh?” JJ grinned as he rested a hand on both John B and Sarah’s shoulders, giving them a little shake for emphasis. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly unimpressed.

“No, they won’t.”

“What?” John B asked, raising his brow as he sat up, adjusting Sarah in his lap.

“She said so,” Sarah said with a shrug, letting out a sigh. “Y/N said no drugs at her place. Well, maybe just weed, but she was pretty serious about it. I even saw her talking to the guy who sells stuff-”

“Kyle?” JJ spoke out hand coming up to push his hair out the way.

“Yeah Kyle, and she said she’d, like, fuck him up or something if he brought anything else.”

“Damn.” JJ raised his eyebrows, genuinely impressed. “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Kie stood up, dusting off the back of her shorts, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Do you think it’s because of her brother?” she asked, her voice thoughtful.

“Yeah, probably.” John B shrugged, his eyes distant for a moment. “I don’t blame her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The backyard, lit by string lights that twinkle like stars above, had transformed into a vibrant scene, with the thumping bass from the speakers. Groups of people were scattered around, some clustered by the bar, whilst others were dancing, their bodies swaying to the rhythmic beats that spilled from the speakers set up, loud laughter sweeping into the silence.

Y/N moved through the crowd with a natural grace, effortlessly weaving between groups of people who were talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Her smile never wavered as she greeted everyone who called out to her, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she offered a quick hug here, the sound of "Happy birthday!" followed her like a soft chorus as she passed, and each greeting was met with a playful smile and a ‘Thank you!’. As she neared the door, her fingers brushed the doorframe, and she pushed it open with a small exhale, letting the cool air inside.

“Happy Birthday!”

Sarah’s voice rang out, the other pogues standing behind her. “Thank you!” Y/N called out, over the music, her voice ringing with joy, slightly buzzed from the alcohol she’d consumed. She walked over, arms open wide as she embraced the girl tightly, stepping aside to let the others in. John B gave her a playful nudge, he spoke with a smile, his tone teasing but sincere.

“You sure know how to throw a party.”

“I’d hope so. Not called the Kook Princess for nothing.”

She responded to him with a wink. The group followed the girl into the kitchen, weaving through the crowd of people plaguing the house. The girl was speaking to them, Kie nodding as she caught the ‘upstairs is off limits’. Now crowded around the kitchen island pouring their own drinks JJ leaned in towards her, grinning as he rested his hand on her waist,

“Is this the part where we all toast to your royal highness?” he teased, holding up his drink.

The girl let out a laugh as she shook her head raising her hand dismissively,

“Whatever you wish for, my faithful servant.”

The others laughed at her response but the call of her name pulled Y/n away from the conversation. She took a couple steps over to where the girl holding her hand out, leading her away, turning back to the group she spoke out loudly so they could hear,

“Have fun guys!”

She stumbled slightly as she made her way through Kooks and Pogues, an occasional cheer when she passed arising from people, others raised their drinks in a salute making her smile. Topper and Kelce appear in her vision, the two boys cheering as they spot the girl.

“Here comes the Birthday Girl!” Kelce’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby partygoers. Topper raised his cup in the air. "Looking good, Princess!" he called, as she approached.

“Give us a spin.”

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the challenge. With a playful roll of her eyes, she planted one foot in front of the other and spun around slowly, her arms outstretched in an exaggerated twirl. The dark red dress hugged her figure, it was shorter than she’d usually go for, she couldn't deny that throughout the night she was pretty sure she’d flashed a few people.

Who cares, it's my birthday

"Better?" she teased, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Kelce leaned back with an impressed whistle, his eyes scanning her with feigned admiration. "Killlllling it sexy" he teased, clearly enjoying the show. She shook her head leaning over the bar to grab her own drink, letting the cool liquid run down her throat with a burn.

"Having fun?" Topper asked, genuine curiosity.

"Are you kidding? This is my night," she tilted her head slightly and shot him a quick smile. However she couldn't stop her eyes from flickering around them searching for something… or rather someone. Topper seemed to notice her eyes flickering around, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You looking for someone?"

Her eyes darted back to the boy in front of her as he spoke, shaking her head raising the glass to her lips again and taking a quick sip before speaking,

Rafe...

“Uh- have you seen Cooper?”

She asked, her words slightly offhand, though there was a flicker of something in her voice. Her eyes swept the crowd once more, her thoughts momentarily drifting. Kelce smirked, clearly sensing the subtle shift in her behavior.

"Cooper, huh?" he teased, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who's 'just having fun,' you sure seem eager to find him." Y/N bit back a smile, her cheeks flushing slightly, though she quickly regained her composure.

"I’m not eager."

She said, the words coming out more defensively than intended. She rolled her eyes and shoved the boy causing him to stumble slightly, Topper laughing at them, “He went to meet one of the guys by the front doors- something like that.”

“M’kay… What about Rafe?”

Topper tilted his head, crossing his arms curiously. “Rafe?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if he’s here.”

She replied quickly, shrugging as she let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t sound as carefree as she intended. Topper raised an eyebrow at her curiosity, aware that the two were still on thin ice,

“I haven’t seen him since earlier. You know how he gets, he’s... not in the best of moods."

Y/N swallowed, her thoughts briefly clouding with the image of Rafe brooding in some corner, she pushed it away, forcing an unbothered tone as she took another sip of her drink.

"I’m sure he’s fine."

Topper studied her for a moment, his smirk fading just slightly as he caught the way her expression shifted- the subtle drop in her shoulders, the brief tightness in her jaw. He could tell there was more to her question than she was letting on, and it wasn’t just curiosity about Rafe's whereabouts. But he didn’t press, he knew when to back off, he cleared his throat as he saw the girl's eyes dart around the back-yard,

"Whatever’s going on between you two," he said, a little more serious now, "you know it’s not worth letting it ruin a good night. The party’s for you, not him."

Y/N glanced at him, her lips quirking in an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I know," she muttered, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. She shifted uncomfortably, the heat of the moment making her uneasy as she realized she hadn’t been able to escape her thoughts of Rafe- even in the middle of her birthday celebration.

She had spent weeks convincing herself that she didn’t care if Rafe showed up, that it didn’t matter what he did anymore. But standing there in the midst of the party, surrounded by familiar faces and laughter, she couldn’t deny the sting of his absence. Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass in her hand as her gaze swept over the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn’t here. Not yet, anyway, or maybe he was but he was avoiding her. She told herself it didn’t matter, tried to focus on the people who were here for her, but her mind kept circling back to him. He was her best friend. At least, he had been. That thought made her chest tighten.

Had been

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music pulsed through the air, its rhythmic bassline vibrating the floor beneath her feet. The lively chatter and bursts of laughter from the crowd mingled with the upbeat energy of the party. Every corner of the house was buzzing with movement- someone laughing loudly, a group raising their glasses in a spirited toast, or pairs of people drunkenly making out in dimly lit corners. The lively chaos was electric, wrapping around Y/N as she moved through the thrumming atmosphere. The girl found herself by the makeshift bar, a group of familiar and not-so-familiar faces gathering around her. Someone had shouted, "Shots for the birthday girl!" and it spiraled from there. A tray of tiny glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid appeared, each one gleaming under the dim lights overhead.

“Birthday shot!”

Someone yelled, and the crowd around her joined in, chanting the words in a playful, sing-song tone.

Y/N held her shot glass high, a smile tugging at her lips as she glanced around at the people circling her.

“To being young, rich and sexy!”

The group erupted into laughter and clinked their glasses against hers before raising them to their lips. Y/n tipped her head back, the liquid burning a fiery trail down her throat, she slammed the empty glass on the counter with a wince, her friends erupting into cheers. Another round was quickly poured, someone shouting, “One more for the birthday girl!” Y/N laughed, shaking her head, but there was no real fight in her as another shot glass was pressed into her hand.

“Alright, fine, but this is the last one,” she said, raising the glass high with a wide smile, cheeks flushed.

“Sure it is!” someone teased, drawing more laughter from the group. She tilted her head back once more and took the shot, slamming the glass down. The crowd around her whooped in approval, some pounding the counter, the group around her remained lively, their laughter and chatter filling the kitchen as they lingered by the counter, still talking to Y/N about random topics that arose. She nodded along, her smile unwavering as she responded to their playful jabs and stories, but her attention started to waver. Her gaze drifted subtly past the circle of friends, skimming over the crowd that filled the house, that's where she spotted him.

Rafe

He was not far from the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall with that casual ease that drew her eye immediately. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his head was tilted slightly as he talked to someone.

Sofia?

Y/N’s stomach dipped slightly. The girl standing with Rafe was undeniably beautiful, her short brown hair framing her face in a way that caught her beauty effortlessly. The girl laughed at something Rafe said, her hand brushing his arm briefly, to which he returned a smile to her his chest raising in a soft laugh. The sight sent a jolt through Y/N that she couldn’t quite place- or maybe she could, but didn’t want to. Her smile faltered for a split second before she forced it back into place, the party around her seeming to blur for a moment as her focus zeroed in on the two of them. She couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol coursing through her veins or the way Sofia’s hand casually brushed Rafe’s arm, but a wave of nausea crept up her throat. Her grip on the edge of the counter tightened, fingers curling against the smooth surface as though grounding herself. The laughter and chatter around her blurred into a dull hum, the vibrant lights of the kitchen suddenly feeling too bright, too close. The warmth of the room made her feel like the air was pressing down on her. She blinked slowly, trying to steady herself, but her head was already spinning, the effects of the shots catching up with her faster than she expected. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to exhale, but her stomach still churned uncomfortably. The nausea wasn’t just from the alcohol, she knew that. It was the sight of him- of Rafe- leaning in close to someone else. Someone who wasn’t her.

Get a grip

The sudden suffocating feeling drove her to action. Her body moved before her mind could fully catch up, her feet carrying her out of the kitchen and through the crowd of partygoers. She mumbled quick apologies when she bumped into someone, eyes darting toward the glass doors that led to the garden. The cool night air hit her immediately, sharp and refreshing against her heated skin. She inhaled deeply, her hands pressing against the railing of the patio as she stared up at the stars, trying to will away the lump in her throat and the bitter taste of jealousy lingering in her mouth. Before she could fully settle into the moment of solitude, someone called her name.

She turned around, and there he was.

Rafe stood just a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable. The way the light from the house cast a glow over his face made him look almost softer—almost.

“Happy birthday.”

He said, his voice low but clear, carrying easily through the quiet of the night. She stared at him for a moment, her face betraying no emotion.

“Thanks,” she replied flatly, turning back toward the garden.

“Wait-”

He said, and before she could take another step, his hand reached out, gently brushing against hers before catching it lightly.

“Can we talk, please?”

She turned back to him slowly, her gaze icy as she stared up at him.

“Go talk to Sofia.”

What?

She shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the venom in her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, his jaw tightening slightly.

Why the fuck did you say that?!

“Listen,” he started, his voice softer now, more deliberate. “I don’t know what you—”

“Rafe,” she cut him off, her tone clipped as she tugged her hand out of his.

“I don’t care who you fuck.”

She inhaled deeply, her gaze briefly flickering to the door behind him before settling back on his face.

“I just need some air.”

And with that, she turned away, stepping off the patio and disappearing into the shadows of the garden. Rafe stayed rooted in place, his hand falling limply to his side where hers had been just seconds ago. He watched her retreating figure, her shoulders tense, her head held high.

Fuck

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hadn’t meant for things to be like this—not tonight, not on her birthday. He didn’t even know how to fix it, or if she’d even let him try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by the warm, steady weight of a pair of hands wrapping gently around her waist. Her body stiffened for a moment, but then she turned her head slightly to see Cooper smiling down at her, his face warmed under the kitchen lights.

“How’s the birthday girl enjoying herself?”

He asked, his voice warm and teasing, a playful lilt in his tone. Y/N forced a small smile, her grip on the counter loosening slightly. “I’m… good,” she said, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Actually, I was just thinking- let’s take another shot.”

Cooper’s brows lifted, and he gave a soft chuckle, his hands sliding away as he stepped to her side.

“Another one, huh? You sure about that? Might be a good time to slow down...”

She shook her head, brushing off his concern. “Nope.” she said, her voice firmer now, as though willing herself to regain control of the moment. He hesitated, eyeing her with a mix of amusement and slight concern. “Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, grabbing two shot glasses and the nearest bottle.

“Your call.”

Y/N held out her glass, linking her arm through his with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Let’s take one together,”

She insisted, her smile a little brighter now. Cooper raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips as he grabbed another shot glass and the nearest bottle, pouring the shots for them, the liquid slightly spilling over the top.

“To the birthday girl who doesn’t know when to quit,”

Cooper teased back, his green eyes dancing over her as they clinked their glasses together awkwardly with their arms still entwined. Together, they tipped their heads back, the liquid burning down their throats as laughter bubbled up between them. Y/N set her glass down quickly, wiping her lips, but her eyes flickered to Cooper as he placed his own glass on the counter. Cooper ruffled his tousled hair back into place, as his gaze found hers, his voice softened as he noticed the girl's slightly blissed out expression asked,

“You good, Princess?”

Y/N nodded, the hint of a smile still curling at her lips, she bit her bottom lip gently, an almost unreadable look crossing her face for a split second. Without a word, she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers together, pulling him toward the thrumming crowd where the music seemed to pulse. The bright lights above illuminated the sea of moving bodies, but Y/N was fixated on Cooper, her touch on his hand firm but playful. The music was loud, a steady beat that made her pulse quicken as she felt the warmth of the boy’s body close to hers. She could already feel the weight of the alcohol in her system, making her movements looser, her body swaying slightly. He allowed her to draw him in, his hands resting lightly on her waist as she guided him into the crowd of sweaty bodies moving against each other, his eyes never leaving hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck with an ease and he couldn’t help but tease,

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance,”

He murmured, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Y/N lifted an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear as she replied,

“I guess you’ll have to teach me, then.”

Cooper chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his grip around her waist, pulling her even closer as they moved together. She grinded up against the boy as the base thumped heavily in her ears. Cooper leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he spoke, his hands trailing down her body to her hips, pulling her closer.

"You're a great dancer, princess."

Cooper paused for a moment, his expression softening slightly, his green eyes locking with hers in a way that made her pulse quicken even more. For a brief second, the music and the noise around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them standing in the dim light, the boy’s mind racing as he drank in the sight of her, little red dress clinging to her body a slight sheen covering her chest, causing her to shimmer under the lights.

Cooper was caught off guard by how close they were, how the girl's hands ran up and down his chest, lingered on his neck, playfully grazed over his arms, the heat between them had shifted from playful flirtation to something deeper, more charged. He noticed the way her breath hitched slightly as their bodies brushed, the way she leaned into him just that little bit more. His hand moved almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her back, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, the slight curve of her spine making him pause again,

"God, you're so…"

Cooper started, his voice a little rougher than usual as he tried to collect himself, but the words came out lower, heavier than he had meant. He was fully aware of the shift, the tension hanging thick between them. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. Y/N didn’t break eye contact, instead, her fingers trailed lightly over his chest, sneaking under the top of his open shirt, causing him to suck in a breath as the coolness of her touch. She tilted her head slightly, that playful haze still present in her eyes.

"So…?"

She murmured, her voice dipping low, sending a shiver down his spine. Her lips hovered near his ear, her breath warm against his skin as she continued,

“You gonna take me back to my room now or what?"

She asked, her voice light, yet daring, her words hanging in the air the implication clear. She tilted her head, eyes never leaving his. The challenge in her voice had him leaning even closer to her, his grip on her tightening.

"Is that what you want, hmm?"

He asked, his breath warm against her skin, Y/N's eyes flickered over his face taking in his slightly flushed cheeks, a smirk pulling at her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers now lightly tracing his jaw.

"Maybe,"

She whispered back, but her body already told everything without needing to say a word. Cooper’s lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully,

"You’re not making this easy-"

“-I thought you liked a challenge?”

A grin broke out on his face as he shook his head slightly at the girl, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly, pulling her even closer.

“I do.”

Y/N's breath hitched in response, her fingers gripping at his shirt, the material scrunching under her touch as she pulled him closer to her, the boy’s lips now merely inches away from her.

"Then stop talking and show me,"

She teased, her voice breathless but full of desire, her lips just barely brushing against his as she leaned in. Cooper didn’t need any more encouragement. He moved forward, closing the gap between them, his hand at the back of her neck pulling her in for a kiss that was rough… hungry. Y/N’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The boy’s hands roamed, slipping down her back, and the shift of their bodies made her pulse spike again, her breath quickening in rhythm with his. Their lips moved against each other messily, the pressure building, it was clear neither of them wanted to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party felt suffocating now, the music too loud, the air too warm, but Rafe didn’t move from his spot against the wall. His bottle of beer hung limply from his hand, he leaned against the wall, one shoulder pressed into the cool surface, as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd. He wasn’t really looking for anyone- or so he told himself.

Then he saw her.

Y/N.

Rafe’s grip on the bottle trembled as he watched her arms loop around Cooper’s neck, pulling him closer. His jaw clenched as he watched her lean into him, her face close to Cooper’s, her lips curling into a smile that made Rafe’s chest tighten. His stomach churned as Cooper leaned closer, his hand brushing Y/N’s waist before pulling her in, and then they kis-

It stung at first.

Like a punch to the gut.

But that initial wave of hurt was quickly swallowed by something else, something darker. Anger. His teeth ground together as his gaze darkened, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. He knew it wasn’t his place to feel this way—he’d pulled back, made it clear weeks ago that whatever tension crackled between them wasn’t something he’d act on. But watching her with Cooper? Seeing the way her lips moved against his, her fingers tangling in his hair, the soft arch of her back as she pressed closer?

It made his blood boil.

Because no matter how much he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, that he had no right to feel this way, the sight of her with someone else cut deeper than he’d expected.

And anger was easier to hold onto than hurt.

What the fuck is she doing?

Rafe stormed into the kitchen, his mind still racing with the anger that consumed him. He had to do something—anything—to numb the burn in his chest, the frustration he couldn't shake. Sarah, Kiara and John B were standing near the counter, focused on making their drinks, their conversation faltering when they noticed Rafe's entrance. He didn’t even spare them a glance. His eyes were locked on the bottle of vodka sitting in front of Sarah, and before she could protest, he grabbed it out of her hand.

“Hey, man, she was using that.”

John B said, his voice sounding a little more forceful than he intended. He stepped forward, trying to stop Rafe from taking the bottle. But Rafe didn’t care. He twisted the cap off and tipped the bottle back, taking a large swing without hesitation. The burn of the alcohol made his throat tighten, but it didn’t feel like enough.

It wasn't strong enough.

“Rafe, seriously, stop,” Sarah said as she tried to grab the bottle from his hand. Kiara pulled the girl away before she got hurt speaking out to the boy,

“You’re acting like a psycho.”

Rafe didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he took another long swing. John B watched, glancing between Sarah and Rafe. “Maybe we should get y/n?” He suggested quietly to Sarah, but before either of them could do anything else, Rafe let out a loud scoff at the boys words.

John B's gaze shifting toward Sarah with an unspoken questioning but Sarah wasn't looking back at him, having noticed something small in Rafe’s pocket. A dime bag, barely visible but enough to make her blood run cold, the plastic sticking out of his pocket slightly. Her gaze dropped, her heart pounding as she saw the faint remnants of white powder inside. Y/N had made it clear there were to be no drugs at the party, and Sarah had believed Rafe would respect that. She bit her lip trying to rationalise it, Rafe would never do that to Y/n she's his best friend right?

She was pulled out of her gaze by the sound of the boy slamming the now empty bottle down into the sink, the glass shattering with a loud crack that echoed through the kitchen. He didn’t look back at Sarah or John B, just kept walking, the anger inside of him driving every step. Sarah hesitated for a moment before taking a few steps after him, her fingers reaching out to grab his wrist.

“Are you okay?”

She asked, concern laced in her voice but Rafe didn’t respond. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he roughly shrugged her off as he spat out his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol,

“Just fuck off.”

Need something stronger

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the seconds ticked by, Cooper pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers, their chests rising and falling together, the girl in front of him letting out a shaky breath,

"You sure you want to keep going?"

Without a word, she took his hand in hers, her grip warm and firm as she started to lead him toward the stairs of the house. He mumbled out an occasional ‘sorry’ or ‘ s’cuse me’ as he helped her get through the people in their way. Y/n wobbled slightly, her body unsteady from the alcohol, but her determination never wavered. There was a faint scent of bacardi on her breath mixed with her perfume, it drew the boy closer, his hand slipping around her waist to steady her as they moved.

"Careful"

Cooper murmured, his voice gentle, but there was still that teasing lilt to it. Y/N shot him a glance over her shoulder, the playful, tipsy look in her eyes still there.

"I’m fine"

She giggled, though the slight stumble of her step told a different story. She squeezed his hand, pulling him forward with a grin that sent a pulse of heat through him. As they made their way up the stairs, her heart was racing, eager to get to her room with him, but her momentum was abruptly halted when someone bumped into her. She stumbled slightly but quickly caught herself, Cooper’s hands shooting out to steady her.

"Y/N! Hey!"

Sarah greeted, her tipsy smile spreading. She looked up at Y/N, noticing her slightly frazzled appearance- the smudge of lip gloss and the way Y/N’s hand was still intertwined with Cooper’s, an unreadable expression flickered across her face. She glanced down at their joined hands, taking in the situation with a knowing look before her eyes flicked up to meet Y/N's. Just behind her, John B appeared, his arms casually draped over her shoulders. His gaze shifted between the pair as he spoke up, his voice a little louder from the party’s noise.

"Hey, what's up, guys?"

His tone was friendly, though there was a slight hint of curiosity in his eyes as he noticed the scene. His focus landed briefly on their hands, eyebrows raising as he processed the sight, though he didn’t say anything outright. Y/N, trying to act casual, smiled and greeted them both.

Seriously?

"Hey, Sarah, John B! Everyone’s here... how great! Everything good?"

She asked, trying to keep her tone light as her eyes flickered nervously toward the stairs.

Sarah, clearly tipsy from the drinks, gave a small wave. "Yeah, Everything’s great! This party’s crazy, right?" she said, her voice bubbly. But then, her expression shifted slightly, and she asked, "Actually... have you seen Rafe? I’ve been looking for him, but... no luck."

Y/N felt her stomach tighten at the mention of Rafe.

Not the best time Sarah

She quickly glanced back at Cooper before replying shortly, "no I haven't seen him", trying not to sound too eager to move on from the conversation.

Her eyes flickered back to the stairs behind her, feeling an anxious pull to escape up them with Cooper. John B, still standing casually next to Sarah, glanced over at Y/N and Cooper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to catch on.

"Well we’ll let you guys be,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. He seemed to sense what was happening, though he didn’t press it, instead giving a slight nod to Cooper.

“You two... having fun?”

"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Cooper said casually, a nod in the boy's direction, clearly wanting to move things along.

"Right," John B said, his grin widening, clearly amused, but not wanting to make things awkward. “Sarah, let's find Rafe, yeah?" Sarah didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic as she had before, she hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/N and Cooper,

“Yeah..”

John B gently nudged Sarah away, guiding her down the hallway. As they walked off, Sarah threw one last, uncertain glance over her shoulder at Y/N and Cooper who had started making their way up the stairs.

Y/N let out a small breath, her shoulders dropping in relief, the noise of the party growing more distant behind them. Cooper leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful.

“What was that about?”

His eyes flickered between her face and the path ahead. Y/N let out a shrug, shaking her head slightly as she climbed the stairs.

“I don’t know, c’mon.”

She gestured toward the top of the stairs with a small smile, her fingers tightening around his hand as they both made their way. She wasn’t sure what Sarah’s issue was, but at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What's wrong Sare-bear?”

JJ called out, his lazy smirk growing as he lounged on the grass. He tossed his red plastic cup into the bush next to them without a care, watching Sarah approach with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression stormy. John B walked a step behind her, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes darting curiously between her and the group. Sarah reached them and stopped abruptly, her words tumbling out.

“We saw Cooper and Y/N together.”

Kiara tilted her head, exchanging a quick glance with Pope, who was lounging on the sun lounger, his drink balanced precariously on his knee. “...And?” Kiara asked, lifting a brow. Pope squinted at Sarah,

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

His voice was calm but edged with curiosity as he straightened up a little, Sarah huffed, her fingers fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist as she frowned.

“I don’t know, it’s just... weird.”

JJ burst out laughing, his hands hitting against his thighs in a drum roll, “Ohhhh, I get what’s going on!” He pointed a finger at her, his grin wide. John B smiled, leaning against the side of the lounger the blond boy was planted on and crossing his arms.

“Gotta say, I think JJ’s onto something here.”

His voice was teasing, though there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he watched Sarah’s expression twist further into frustration.

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

Pope asked, his eyes darting between them, still not catching on. JJ sat up slightly, his grin spreading further as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Our Kook Princess is getting some tonight,”

He said, his voice coming out in a sing-song tune. Kiara rolled her eyes dramatically before leaning over and shoving JJ hard enough to send him rolling onto his back. “Hey!” JJ exclaimed, sprawling on the grass as he rubbed his shoulder with mock offence. John B chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean, he’s not wrong. They did look pretty—”

“Flushed?”

Kiara interjected, her lips curving into a small grin. Sarah’s frown deepened as she uncrossed her arms, her hands now planted firmly on her hips.

“How do you know?”

Kiara shrugged, brushing some stray strands of hair out of her face.

“Saw them in the kitchen earlier. They seemed pretty cozy... if you know what I mean.”

Pope’s eyebrows shot up as realisation dawned. “Ohhhh, damn.” He said, drawing out the sound as he leaned back on the sun-lounger. Sarah turned sharply to Kiara, her frustration bubbling over.

“Kie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

John B reached out, his hand settling gently on Sarah’s arm as he spoke softly. “Why are you so worked up over this, baby?”

Sarah paused, her gaze darting to the group. Kiara was watching her curiously, Pope looked contemplative, and JJ was sprawled on the ground, smirking up at her with an infuriatingly smug expression. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “This is wrong,” she muttered, shaking her head. “C’mon, I need to find Rafe.” She turned to walk off, but John B caught her hand, tugging her gently back toward the group.

“Sarah,” he said with a sigh, his tone soft but firm. Kiara leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she met the blonde girl's gaze.

“Sarah, I know you think the two of them like—”

“They do! Why aren’t you guys listening?”

Sarah interrupted, her voice louder now, laced with frustration. JJ, propping himself up on his elbows, pointed a lazy finger toward her.

“Well, obviously Rafe’s fucked up if Y/N’s canoodling with some other guy.”

He quipped, his grin never faltering. Kiara shot him a sharp look, shaking her head. “Seriously, JJ? What are you, ten?”

Sarah let out a frustrated groan, her head dropping against John B’s chest. Her voice was muffled as she sighed,

“I don’t know...”

Pope rubbed the back of his neck, his voice thoughtful. “Well, where is Rafe anyway? I haven’t seen him since... was it the kitchen you said? He seemed pretty worked up.”

Kiara frowned slightly, leaning back. “Yeah, I don’t remember seeing him either. Maybe he left?”John B looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, “You think he’d leave his best friend’s birthday early?” JJ, still lounging on the grass, chimed in with a snort,

“Well, if he found out she was fucking some other gu—”

“JJ!”

Pope and Kiara scolded in unison, their glares sharp as JJ held up his hands in mock innocence.

“Just saying,” the boy muttered, flopping back onto the ground with a dramatic sigh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N giggled as she stumbled slightly, her hand still clasped tightly in Cooper’s as they shuffled down the dimly lit hallway. His laugh was warm, mixing with hers as he pushed her gently against the wall, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was eager and unrestrained. Her hands slid up his chest before she playfully pushed him back, her breathless voice cutting through the darkness.

“C’mon, it’s further up,”

She murmured, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Cooper groaned, throwing his head back dramatically.

“More stairs?”

She laughed, shaking her head at him, tugging him along with a playful tug on his shirt.

“Just one more flight, I promise.”

They started to ascend again, but Cooper suddenly stopped, halting their progress.

“Can I go to the bathroom real quick?”

Y/N groaned in protest, her hands dropping to his belt loops, using them to tug him closer. Her mischievous grin widened as she pulled him flush against her.

“Seriously?”

“I know, I know!” he chuckled, his hands raised in surrender. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Rolling her eyes, she relented with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Go, go!”

As he turned to walk down the darkened hall, he glanced back at her, sending her a quick kiss through the air. She chuckled, shaking her head at his antics. The hallway was quiet, the faint hum of music from downstairs muffled by the distance, and only the soft sound of their steps echoed. Then suddenly, a loud “oof!” broke the silence, followed by the sharp clatter of something hitting the floor. Y/N burst out laughing as she saw Cooper stumbling over a small table that was tucked into the corner of the hall. His hands shot out to steady himself, and he straightens up sheepishly, rubbing his shin.

“I’m okay!”

He declared with an exaggerated thumbs-up, his cheeks flushed as he grinned at her.

What a nerd

Y/N shook her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips, still smiling as she watched him disappear into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. She sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet hallway. Pushing herself off the wall, she padded over to the small wooden table Cooper had collided with, the picture frame lay askew on the floor, the glass miraculously intact despite the tumble. Bending down, she picked it up, brushing off an invisible speck of dust as she straightened, her fingers grazed the edge of the frame as she held it. The photograph inside caught her attention, halting her movements. It was one she hadn’t seen in a while- her and her brother sitting close together on their family yacht, the sun casting a warm golden glow over their smiling faces. She was younger, her hair tousled by the wind, her brother’s arm casually draped around her shoulders. Her lips curved into a small smile as the memory surfaced.

Y/N went to place the frame back down on the table, but a sudden ray of light caught her eye, reflected off the glass. She paused, her fingers tightening slightly around the frame. The light was faint, but it was there, casting a strange glow into the dim hallway.

That’s weird.

She blinked, upstairs was supposed to be off-limits, and no one else had been here. Why would there be any lights on? Her heart beat a little faster, a sense of unease creeping in, the faint light... where was it coming from?

Her breath caught in her throat.

The light was spilling from a door just slightly ajar, casting a soft glow in the hallway. She stood perfectly still, her grip on the photo frame tightening further as her mind raced. No one had been in that room for years- not her, not her parents. It had been off-limits to everyone.

No one had dared to open the door since...

Her heart seemed to stop for a beat, and she swallowed hard, staring at the crack in the door.

Why would the light be on?

Her finger trembled slightly as she placed the picture frame onto the table. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the door. She exhaled slowly, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, almost against her will, she took a cautious step forward.

Another step.

Her body felt like it was moving on its own, but her mind screamed for her to turn back, to leave the hallway and not look. The nausea was rising, thick and heavy, but her feet seemed to carry her forward anyway. She hesitated, stopping a few steps away from it, her chest tight as she looked at the door. It felt like it was staring back at her. Her fingers felt cold as they hovered over the door handle, a mocking reminder of the past. With a trembling hand, she reached for it. The door creaked open slightly, the light from the room spilled out into the hallway.

The girl froze

Her gaze fell on the figure hunched over her brother’s desk, his back to her, he was focused on something, his movements quick and deliberate. The sight of him brought a sudden wave of nausea rushing to her stomach, but it wasn’t until he straightened up that she realized what he was doing.

Her breath hitched.

A line of white powder lay in front of him on her brother’s desk.

Y/N’s legs felt like they might give way beneath her, but she stood frozen, unable to look away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then turned around. When their eyes met, the air in the room shifted.

Rafe’s body stiffened.

No. No no no no-

His eyes widened slightly, his hand jerking up to his face instinctively, wiping at his nose again; he didn’t speak right away, just stood there.

Y/N felt a tremor run through her, her hands shaking at her sides as her throat closed up. She felt trapped- frozen in the doorway, in shock, and sick to her stomach at the sight of him here.

In this room

In this space that was sacred to her.

“Y/n-”

"-What are you doing?"

Her voice came out ragged, barely a whisper as her eyes darted between his and the desk he stood by, the question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Rafe's expression faltered, and he took a step toward her, his hands outstretched, frantic.

“It’s not what it looks like, Y/N. Listen, I—”

She couldn't breathe.

Before he could get any closer, she took a shaky step back, her legs unsteady as she stumbled back, barely catching herself.

“No-”

She breathed, shaking her head slowly, the tears threatening to spill over. She couldn’t stop them- couldn’t stop the waves of emotion that slammed into her all at once.

"No, Rafe… what the- what the fuck are you doing in here?”

He kept walking towards her, his expression torn- guilt, panic and confusion.

"Y/N, I didn’t mean to—"

But she didn’t want to hear it.

She didn’t want his words, his excuses, his explanations.

Her stomach churned as she looked at him, feeling like she might collapse under the weight of everything crashing around her. The room, the desk, the powder… her brother’s room. The memories came rushing back, too fast, too much to bear.

How Rafe of all people could be in here...

She didn’t know how to process it.

Rafe’s eyes widen as he takes a cautious step forward, his hands reaching out, gripping her arms tightly in a manner that seems desperate. His eyes are frantic, the pupils blown wide from the drugs still coursing through his system.

"Y/N, please- just… just, just hear me out-"

How could you do this to me?

He starts, his voice shaky, his words tumbling over one another, a mix of urgency and desperation. But her gaze doesn’t meet his. Instead, her eyes fall to the table, to the white powder still resting there. Her stomach churns violently, the sight of it sending a wave of nausea crashing through her. Without thinking, she pushes Rafe away from her.

Hard.

He stumbles back, his eyes are wide, still frantic, his lips parting to speak again, but he’s cut off by the girl’s shaky, breathless voice. She whispers, her eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and rage. Her whole body trembles. She can’t even look at him anymore.

"No. No, no, no-"

Y/N shook her head at Rafe, her movements sharp, as she turned on her heel, walking briskly toward the door. Her thoughts were a mess of confusion and disgust. She couldn’t stay in that room with him, not after what she’d seen, not after what he was doing there.

“Y/N, no. Don’t—”

The boy’s breathy voice broke through the tension, but she didn’t turn back.

She couldn’t.

Her pulse was pounding as she hurried down the stairs, ignoring the curious stares of the people in the living room. Heads turned, whispers rippling through the crowd, but she kept walking, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest. She pushed through people, moving as fast as she could toward the front door, she couldn’t stand being in the house a second longer and couldn't bear the thought of being around anyone after what she'd just witnessed. She slammed the door with force, the sound of it reverberating in her ears, drawing a few gasps from people standing around. Rafe’s voice continued to echo after her, calling her name, but it felt distant now. Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, her feet carrying her away from the house and toward the front yard. She lifted her hands to her face, desperately trying to push her hair from her eyes, but it didn’t help- she still felt sick. Sick to her stomach.

Sick because of Rafe.

Sick because of what she’d seen.

But before she could take another step, she felt a sharp tug on her wrist. She was yanked roughly around to face him, and her breath hitched as Rafe stood there, his eyes wide and angry. His grip on her wrist was tight,

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Rafe’s voice was harsh as he pulled her toward him. His eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite place, frustration, anger... maybe guilt.

“Stop walking away from me when I’m talking to you!”

Y/N’s heart was pounding, her chest tight as she stood there, looking up at him. The boy she had known her whole life was standing in front of her, but it felt like he was a stranger. The sickening feeling she had from seeing him in that room was still too raw, festering, and she couldn’t escape it. Without warning, she yanked her hand out of his grasp, spinning on her heel to face him. Her eyes burned with fury as she pointed at him, speaking loudly, her voice shaking with anger.

“Don’t you dare yell at me.”

She snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Rafe seemed taken aback by the force of her words, his eyes flickering with surprise she was breathing heavily, her hands balled into fists at her sides, but the anger wasn’t enough to hide the hurt, the betrayal that still churned in her gut. Rafe’s eyes flickered with frustration, and he scoffed at her, running a hand through his hair agitatedly, his fingers pointing towards her repeatedly.

“What, you- you- you think you’re some fucking saint? You’re acting all high and mighty like you’ve never done anything wrong.”

The girl let out a laugh of disbelief, all sadness now replaced with anger, bubbling uncomfortably under her skin. She stepped closer, her fingers twitching, itching to shove the boy away from her.

“You don’t get to make this about me-”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but there was no softening in his expression, only a growing frustration that was reflected in the way his hand fisted by his side.

“-I don’t need you lecturing me, okay?”

He snapped, his temper flaring. His threw his hands up in irritation as he spoke,

“Look at you, little Miss fucking Perfect.” His voice was mocking now, his every word laced with bitterness. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy acting like such a stuck up bitch all the time you’d see that it’s never that dee-.”

The sharp sting of his insult cut through her, the girl’s face hardening as she glared at him.

“Stuck up bitch?”

She repeated, her voice cold and cutting, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

“You really think that’s what this is about, Rafe? That I’m some bitch for calling you out for your shit?”

As Y/N’s voice rose, sharp and cutting through the night, a few of the partygoers who had been milling around the house started to drift towards the sound. They stood, spread out in a loose cluster by the front steps, all of them silently observing. A few exchanged glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and surprise, the kind of unease that only comes when you realize you’re watching something you shouldn’t be. They didn’t interrupt; they didn’t even move much. There was a sort of tense stillness as they all absorbed the unfamiliar sight- it was like they were seeing a side of the two that had never been shown before. Among the crowd, Sarah’s anxious energy couldn’t keep still. She pushed through the small group, a hand on John B’s arm as she urgently muttered,

“Someone needs to do something.”

John B glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly trying to figure out what to say, but before he could say anything, JJ chimed in from behind him, the lack of his usual attitude making the situation feel even more tense.

“I don’t think we should intervene...”

His gaze still focused on the two in the yard. John B stepped in, gently pulling Sarah back a little, he let out a deep breath before giving her a soft but firm look.

“I know I don’t say this often, but c’mon, listen to JJ. We don’t want to make this worse.”

Sarah clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms as she anxiously watched Y/N and Rafe continue their heated exchange. Her teeth grazed her nail nervously, a flicker of concern crossing her features.

“Someone needs to get Topper or Kelce.”

As Sarah stood there, unable to tear her eyes away from the two in the yard as their brutal argument floated overhead, she wasn’t sure if just standing back was the right thing to do.

“What is wrong with you?”

The look in his eyes was the same: cold, distant, and filled with frustration. His jaw twitched, his muscles tense, as he rolled his eyes at her words. “Oh, here we fucking go,” Rafe muttered under his breath, his sarcasm dripping with annoyance. Y/N’s disgust only deepened.

Just shut up, just shut the fuck up-

“Seriously?” she said, her voice low but cutting. “Coke? You literally just—”

But before she could finish, Rafe interrupted her brutally, his words coming out in a sharp, unexpected burst.

“Your brother died three years ago,” he spat, his voice rising in agitation.

“Fucking get over it.”

…

Her blood ran cold, her chest tightening at the words, she opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but her throat went dry. His words had thrown her off completely. She stood frozen, blinking, unsure of what to say in response to something so cruel, so unexpected. Rafe’s eyes never softened; his glare remained hard. Y/N let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, more like a scoff that escaped her lips in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, her head shaking slowly,

"You’re nothing but a fucking junkie"

She spat, the words slipped out of her mouth malisciously. At her words, Rafe’s expression flickered for a brief moment- but it was quickly masked by a cold look. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he leered down at her, a dangerous intensity in his gaze.

"Oh yeah?"

He sneered, his voice dripping with a mockery that sent a chill down her spine. His fingers lifted, pointing erratically at his temple as he spoke.

"I think we both know what you are Y/N."

Y/N’s jaw clenched tighter as she refused to back down. She looked up at him, her eyes locked with his,

“What am I, Rafe?”

A dark, almost repulsed smirk curled on Rafe's lips, and he leaned in his eyes scanned her face with disgust before he spoke,

“You’re just a fucking slut”

He spat, his voice low and biting as he jabbed his finger aggressively into his own chest,

“Throwing yourself at me and when I tell you I don’t want you…” He paused, his finger now pointing towards her house, his expression a mix of anger and repulsion.

“You whore yourself out to Cooper.”

The boy stood there, his chest rising and falling. Y/N didn’t move, didn’t speak, her expression unreadable, her silence loud in the space between them, the ringing of her pulse loud in her ears. Rafe observed her for a moment longer, eyes flickering between her face and the people still quietly watching from the sidelines. Satisfied that she had nothing left to say, he let out a short, mocking scoff. His lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk, his hands slipping into his pockets as he tilted his head toward her.

"Am I wrong?"

He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, like he had won some twisted game. His eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness. Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She stared back at him, her features neutral, but deep down, she wanted to shout at him, to humiliate him the way he’d just humiliated her in front of everyone. But there was nothing left to say, her throat felt tight, like his words had stolen her ability to speak.

"You want to know what your real problem is, Y/N?"

He said, his voice colder now, cutting through the tension. She clenched her jaw, her fingers digging into the palms of her hands, but still, she didn’t speak, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her wavering voice.

"You're just like your mother- always looking for validation, always trying to get someone to notice you."

A lump formed in her throat as his words sank in making it hard to swallow. Her lip trembled slightly as his words sliced through her, harsh and unrelenting.

"Maybe if she paid more attention to you growing up, you wouldn’t be out here begging for anyone’s approval-"

The crack of a slap rang in the air, reverberating in the thick silence that followed.

Rafe’s head jerked to the side and he stood frozen, his cheek stinging from the force of the blow, his eyes wide with disbelief. Y/n’s hand dropped to her side slowly, her fingers curling slightly still feeling the burn of her own action. With a sharp intake of breath, his hand lifted to his face, touching the sting of the slap. He turned to the girl suddenly only to bump into someone.

"Hey, hey- hey!"

Kelce called out, voice urgent as he moved in between them, his hands outstretched to Rafe placing them on his shoulders, trying to calm him down from moving towards Y/N again. He had finally made his way down with Topper, the two having sobered up from witnessing the entire exchange from a distance as they pushed through the crowd to try and get to the two. Rafe’s angry footsteps faltered as he scowled, barely taking a moment to register who it was before growling in frustration. He clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking toward Y/N again, seething with barely contained rage. Behind her, Topper quickly moved in. His shoulders tensed, and he instinctively put himself between the two. His palm raised defensively, trying to hold Rafe off, though his own body language was tense.

"Come on, man—"

Topper spoke, his voice more steady, but with an edge of warning as he stepped forward, hand outstretched to Rafe, trying to prevent the situation from escalating further. But Y/N, barely containing her own anger, snapped,

"Get the fuck off my property"

She shouted furiously, her words cutting through the tense air. Her words sent a ripple through the crowd of onlookers, making the already awkward situation even more charged. Whispers of ‘he’s psychotic’ and ‘she’s doing too much’ drifting around the patio, but none of it helped ease the already unbearable tension. Y/N, glared at Rafe, not backing down. His eyes were filled with rage, but he couldn't quite seem to process her defiance,

"You're a fucking bitch, d'you hear me?"

He yelled back at her, his words laced with venom, his anger practically radiating from him. Y/N laughed bitterly at his insult. Her finger shot out to point directly at him, her stance tense with barely restrained fury.

"I hear you, you asshole"

She shot back, voice filled with disdain. Topper, now realising the situation was escalating, turned around quickly, his hand coming out to Y/N's arms. He muttered, voice strained as he tried to gently pull her away from the confrontation.

"Y/N, don't do this..."

Rafe's posture was rigid, his broad shoulders tense as if every muscle was wound tight with anger. He took a step forward Kelce cautious at his movement, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“What, you’re gonna threaten me now? You think you scare me, Y/N?”

She met his gaze with a cold, unflinching stare. “If you don’t get off my yard, I’m calling the fucking cops,”

She said, her voice low and sharp. Rafe’s eyes flickered with mockery, his lips curling into an arrogant smirk as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, you’re gonna call the cops on me? What’s next, Y/N? Gonna cry about it to mommy?”

He laughed bitterly, his chest heaving with the irritation he was trying to hide. Y/N’s eyes never wavered. Her stomach churned, but she didn’t let it show. The words came out of her mouth with disdain,

“You’re pathetic.”

Rafe laughed again, that cruel, bitter sound echoing in the tense silence. He ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly agitated.

“You’re not worth my fucking time”

He muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. Rafe didn’t even look back as he turned toward the road. He was breathing heavily, each stride heavy and deliberate, but the lingering tension in his posture remained. Kelce glanced at Topper, a quick, unspoken exchange between them. Kelce’s expression was hard, his eyes darting to Rafe before he turned to follow, his footsteps purposeful and quick. Y/N stood there, watching Rafe walk away, her breath shallow as she fought to keep herself from shaking. Her legs trembled beneath her, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest, suffocating. Her hand still burned from where she had slapped him, but it felt like an eternity ago. She kept her eyes locked on the road, watching until Rafe disappeared completely from sight. Topper’s hand settled gently on Y/N’s shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cold, biting air.

“You okay?”

He asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of concern, but she didn’t respond. Y/N’s face was unreadable, feeling the eyes of the crowd still on her. The air around her was thick with judgment, whispers rising and falling like the waves crashing against the shore not far from her home. She refused to show the anger and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head slightly, brushing off his hand.

"I'm fine."

She muttered, her voice low but sharp. She turned and began to walk back toward the house, her steps stiff and calculated. The crowd parted, sensing her need for space, as she made her way up the steps of her patio. Each one felt heavier than the last. As she reached the top, her eyes flickered briefly over the crowd, but she didn’t stop. The murmur of voices still surrounded her, but she kept moving, her gaze fixed on the open door ahead. The noise faded to a dull hum in her ears. Before she could fully enter, Sarah pushed through the group of onlookers, rushing forward with urgency.

“Y/N—” she called out, but the girl didn’t turn around.

She didn’t slow down.

Without a word, Y/N walked straight through the open door, her feet carrying her through without hesitation. Her voice rang out, clear and final as she stepped foot inside the house,

“Party’s over.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616

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trippinsorrows · 2 days ago

Text

wicked games + one

authors note: here we go again. i have no excuse atp. none whatsoever. this is more a prologue than anything, because the following parts will show just we ended up here...

words: 4k

**gif belongs to @dejameflorecer

warnings: angst

Her laughter haunts him.

Once an anodyne for any and all of his bad days, now the source of his bad days.

That same laughter echoes through the hotel room, radiates from the phone in his hand as he watches one of the many videos she took.

“I want to remember these moments,” she once told him as explanation for why she seemingly couldn’t go one date or outing without snapping a photo or recording a video of them together.

The video in question that serves as his punishment is one she took when they were at his place. One of the times where he didn’t take her somewhere special or have elaborate plans. He just wanted to be around her and vice versa.

Roman sees himself sitting back on the sofa, remote in hand, probably trying to decide between the options of movies she gave him.

She then shifts the focus back onto her, and he’s immediately moved by how she’s wearing only one of his shirts, signifying she’d spent the night.

Roman’s chest tightens.

He hasn't had a good night’s rest in months, the absence of her, in all the ways, chasing and overwhelming his every waking moment.

“Ro!” She giggles, moving around again, now on her knees on the sofa as she holds onto him from the side. “Can you at least smile for me? You look like I’m torturing you.”

Present Roman watches past Roman cast an irritated glance to the camera followed by a significantly relaxed one to her. “You know I’m not a camera person like that, Sol.”

She rolls her eyes. So big and pretty. Innocent. “Whatever.” Her dismissal is followed by her kissing his cheek and smiling wryly. “I know how to get your attention.”

A misunderstanding on her part, because she always had his attention.

Still does.

More movement followed by music playing in the background.

G-A-N-G baby, let me B-A-N-G, baby

Let me fuck some'

G-A-N-G baby, let me B-A-N-G, baby

Let me fuck some'

He’d heard the song before, played at the gym and club a couple of times, but the song is not the focus. She is. Always. He watches her her climb onto his lap, that sneaky look on her face replaced with a new angle.

The angle of her holding the phone so it’s focused on her ass as she twerks on top of him, cheeks and hips moving perfectly in sync to the beat of the song.

If that ass fat, better shake that shit (Baow, baow)

Put a hand up if you take dick (Tryna fuck some')

Keep shit P, I'll never be a trick

But the way she fuck, make me spend that shit (Let me fuck some')

A viewing at a different time would probably evoke a different, more physical, carnal reaction from him, but present Roman is too focused on the sound of her laughter when past Roman slaps her ass and tugs her against him.

She bites on her bottom lip, focusing the video back on them as he whispers something in her ear that makes her eyes go wide.

She gasps, smiling and blushing as she turns to him, “Roman!”

The video stops, and the emptiness returns.

Roman locks his phone, gripping it. His eyes shut, the memories crashing into him like waves of suffocation and devastation.

He’s not sure why he continues to do this to himself. To torture himself with constant reminders of what will always be his biggest regret in this life.

The same reason he’s unsure why he’s even doing this.

He needs to leave her alone. He promised he would leave her alone.

But, that was before.

Before he was informed. Before it was told to him. Not a sure thing. Just a rumor. But a rumor, nonetheless, that resulted in him hopping on the jet and flying to Mexico. A rumor he needs to know is either just that—a rumor—or a secret that’s bound to change everything.

For better or worse remains to be seen.

It takes another ten minutes for him to exit the vehicle, ten minutes of going back and forth if he should just get back in his car and drive straight to the airport. It’s tempting, but not enough.

He needs to know.

And that’s what he keeps reminding himself of as he makes his way through the mall strip, partially confused due to the fact that it’s all in Spanish. He keeps in mind, however, the name of the shop and the pictures she showed him. Pictures that included promises of him to come see it in person, for her to give him a personal tour of all of her home, one day.

Promises and dreams that lie in the wastelands of what could but will never be.

Bypassing a couple, the woman wearing a bright green bikini top and shorts brings him back to a memory.

She runs over to him, giggling, holding onto her chest, the thin straps of her lime green bikini top failing to properly secure those beautiful breast of hers.

Sitting and straddling his lap, she takes the phone from him. "Let me see."

He watches her eyes survey the photos he snapped, his hand moving to her hips, holding her. "They alright?"

Her eyes flicker up to him. She nods with a small smile, kissing his cheek. "They're perfect."

Roman says nothing but thinks the same.

She is perfect.

Placing the phone down on the towel that he sits on, she moves her arms around his neck. "Guess what I've been thinking about?"

He makes a sound, hands massaging the meat of her hips. "No idea. Tell me."

She bites on her bottom lip, answering in a giddy tone. "Us."

Funny. He thinks the of the same thing. More often than not.

Roman lifts his hand to her chin, gaze softening. "What about us?"

Her eyes alight with elation. "When we're married and have a house full of kids running around."

Her answer surprises him. To some extent. Not entirely. She's brought up marriage before. Voiced her desire for them to one day be wed, but it's always marred by the dark secrets he continues to sit on.

Continues to withhold from her.

Solana nods, moving her hands up and down his broad shoulders. "I want to get married back home in Mexico, but I want us to live here in the states." She explains, sighing in awe. "I want us to have a house in the country though."

He chuckles quietly. "The country, huh?"

Her smile is warm and loving as she leans forward, holding him, burying herself against his safety. "I want to be away from everyone. Just you. Me. Our kids." Solana sighs as he moves his hands up her back and kisses the top of her head. "Us.....that's all we need."

Detaching from distant times, Roman does his best to push away those uncomfortable feelings and heartbreaking memories to stay focused on the task at hand, his dedication eventually bringing him to his destination.

Dulce's.

He stands outside the building, recognizing the outside, the beautiful flower arrangements that line the window. It's all so her.

And for a second, he considers turning around once more. Fears this place of purity and sanctuary will be polluted by him, polluted by the stench of betrayal that follows him wherever he goes.

But, the desire, the almost need to have his question answered is overpowering. Is enough to take him to that next stop.

And Roman walks into the store.

“Buenos días!”

Months.

It’s been months since he’s heard her voice in real time, having to make do with archival footage. But hearing it now, after so long, the happiness in it, it’s….difficult, to say the least. Roman swallows, studying the back of her head as she stands behind the counter, clearly working on a bouquet, the seconds stretching to minutes in terms of how long it takes her to turn around. But, when she does, he’s wishing she didn’t “Cómo puedo ayudarle—”

Solana is silent the minute her eyes land on him, the terror and shock in her pretty brown hues filling him with all the shame.

She’s far from pleased at the sight of him.

Her mouth parts slightly, and he swears he can see her chest gradually moving up and down, indication of panic. “Roman?” It’s been months since he’s heard his name on her mouth in real time, and it nearly kills him how horrified she sounds saying it. “Wh—what—how—”

Roman didn’t think of what exactly he was going to say when he was standing in front of her, didn’t think he needed to. Now, he realizes that wasn’t the smartest decision. Her very strong reaction to seeing him shouldn't surprise him, shouldn’t bother him. After all, what he did to her…the way he hurt her….he’s surprised the door isn’t slammed in his face.

“I—” Struggling with verbalization has never been a thing for him until this moment. “I needed to see you. We—we need to talk.”

For better or worse, his words seem to trigger her out of her state of shock. Her brows furrow slightly, her hands tightly gripping the counter. “How did you find me?”

“Solana—”

“How—” Her voice is harder, a new emotion rising: anger. “did you find me?”

He straightens, jaw fixed. “I’ve always known where you were.”

And, it shouldn't come as a surprise. It only made sense after everything he did to her, the pain he caused her, that she would return to her safe space. Be around her family.

That she would go home.

Her expression seems to indicate she recognizes this as well. Recognizes that it was maybe unwise to think Roman, of all people, would not know where she disappeared to. “Well, you’ve wasted your time, because I have nothing to say to you.”

It’s then that she tries to turn away from him, but he takes a step closer, hating how she leans back against the counter. It’s almost physically painful to see and feel her disgust towards him. “You don’t want to talk to me, I get that.”

Solana’s eyes widen, her voice harsh and unforgiving. “I don’t even want to see you, let alone speak to you.” She shakes her head, reaching and pointing to the door behind him. “Now, I won’t tell you again, get out.”

Roman does his best to shove away the emotions that only seem to come up when he’s with and around her. “Solana, please just—”

“Don’t you get it!” She snaps, gesturing again to the door. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Roman! I don’t want to think about you, I don’t want to remember you.” Emotion imbues her voice and face. “I’d give anything to be able to wipe you and the past year from my memory.”

A slap. Verbal. Painful.

He straightens, reminding himself of his objective. Reminding himself that everything she’s throwing at him is deserved, no matter how much it kills him to know just how she feels about him.

About them.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I just need—”

“You don’t get to need anything from me!”

Another fair statement. Understandable. But, it doesn’t negate the fact that he needs to talk to her about this. He needs to know.

And, it’s only then that Roman allows himself to take her in. Her face and breast both look fuller, a certain glow to her she’s always had but seems….brighter. He’s also just now noticing the way she keeps adjusting her dress.

Specifically around the stomach area.

He….he doesn’t know what or if anything to make of that.

Solana, however, seems to notice his gaze that’s focused on her stomach area and clears her throat, moving past the counter to walk away. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you to please lea—”

Roman knows being forceful isn’t the best move in this situation. However, he’s not even sure if there is a right thing to do, but what he does, whether right or wrong, manages to answer his question in the most unexpected way.

His arm reaching across, serving as a barrier that prevents her from walking away. An effective barrier, but also a source of reveal. Because when Solana jumps back slightly, that movement causes the material of her dress to flatten against her stomach, revealing an unmistakable swell.

A bump.

A baby bump.

There was already a million and one things going through his mind from the moment Jimmy mentioned to him that he overheard Bayley tell Naomi that Solana was pregnant. And normally, he wouldn’t think anything of it. Would try to come to peace with the fact that not only had Solana truly moved on, but she was starting a family with someone else. A quick turnaround time, but not anything he could judge. Not fairly, anyway.

But, this nagging, insistent voice in the back of the head wouldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t trickle away. Because he knows Solana.

Knows how major her letting him take her virginity was for her. Sacred. Special.

He couldn’t envision a world where she could just fall in bed with someone else so soon and end up pregnant, at that. And, it’s all of that that led him to his suspicion that if Solana was in fact pregnant, it wasn’t by another man.

It was by him.

An almost inconceivable thing he sat on for almost a week before feeling an almost requirement to fly down to Mexico and see for himself.

And seeing, he certainly is.

“It’s true.” His voice is barely above a whisper, shock and a million other emotions swirling around his entire being. He doesn’t even really register the way her face turns red, undecipherable emotions coming over her. “You’re pregnant….”

Somehow, they both seem to snap back to a more logical state, Solana covering her body. “That’s none of your business.”

His eyes snap to hers, and for the first time since stepping foot into her shop, he’s hit with something else other than an insurmountable amount of regret.

He’s hit with anger.

“None of my business?” His voice is leveled and even. “You’re carrying my child, Solana. How the hell is that none of my business?”

“No, it’s my child,” she counters, voice just as firm as his as she reiterates, “my baby, who I will raise by myself. You don’t get to be in their life.”

Just like that, anger morphs into burning rage at her words. It’s one thing to keep him completely in the dark about the existence of his own child but to still think that she can keep him in the dark once the light is on is beyond him.

Roman knows he hurt her. Did her wrong. Broke her heart, and he’ll always live with the regret of that. But, their unborn child has nothing to do with what transpired between them, and it’s unfair to try to keep him away.

And he responds as such, from that place of hurt. “The hell I don’t. You’re crazy as hell if you think I’m gon’ let you keep me out of my child’s life.”

A poor choice of words, the wrong thing to say, clearly.

“Roman….” Her name leaving his mouth is a thing of disbelief, like she’s incapable of comprehending just what she’s hearing. “In what world do you think you have any right to be involved in my child’s life?”

It’s the singular possessive word of ‘my’ that continues to grate his already paltry nerves. “Our child!”

“No!” She yells, jumping an octave and a level of vulnerability. “I won’t let you be in their life, Roman! I don’t care if I have to—if I have to move to do it. I’ll—I’ll go into hiding.”

Roman can’t deny the fear that creeps into him at her threat. Solana leaving and going home to Mexico is one thing, nothing really, because he knew where she was. But Solana disappearing and going off the radar, with their child, is something entirely different.

He won’t have that.

He can’t have that.

“I’ll find you,” a quiet, truthful vow. A promise. “I’ll always find you.”

She lifts her chin, reiterating, “then I’ll keep moving, keep running for as long as I have to to keep this baby away from you.” Her voice breaks, her jaw trembling, as she admits in a quiet voice, “I won’t let her hurt her the way you hurt me.”

His shoulder drop, anger melting away, incapable of remaining in the face of such hurt.

“Solana….”

He tries to step toward her only for her to jerk back, arms almost protectively wrapped around her stomach.

“Do you have any idea how empty I’ve felt?” A rhetorical question, he’s sure, but one that cuts him. Cuts him deep. “How I—how I cry myself to sleep most nights. How stupid I feel at believing you ever cared about me, ever loved me. How–how I try to not think about how this baby got here, the lies she was created from?"

“Solana, my love for you has never and will never be a lie.” And that has and will always be the God’s honest truth. “Baby, I love you.”

“Fuck you, Roman!” She yells, tears leaking down her face. “You don’t do what you did to me to people you claim to love! You don’t even know what love is! You’re not capable of it!”

He swallows. “Solana—”

“You are a heartless monster. You feel nothing for people. You use them for what you need, and then you throw them to the wayside like they’re trash. You broke me!” She looks away, covering her mouth to conceal the sob she’s doing her best to hold in. “You—you don’t deserve to be a father.”

Roman refuses to show her deep her words hit him, the pain she clearly still feels from how they ended, from what he did. He knows he deserves it, that he broke her heart, that he fucked with her head. But still, he never thought she’d be the type to hold their issues with each other against him when it came to a child.

Their child.

He swallows, doing his best to not allow the verbal daggers to consume him, because although deserved, it’s still a devastating, excruciatingly painful experience. One he wasn’t fully prepared for.

Roman looks down, taking a breath, wanting, needing to be careful with what he says next. “Solana, I—”

“Hermana?”

A new voice introduced into the conversation. Male. Unfamiliar. Unwanted.

A scowl appears on Roman’s face as trepidation overtakes Solana.

“Wes….”

Roman’s scowl falters ever so slightly. Wes…..

He’s heard that name before.

It takes a second or two for it to hit him. Wesley.

Solana’s brother.

Fuck.

She angles her body more toward him. “Wh—what are you—”

“Roman Reigns?” He’s clearly not listening to her, his suspecting, almost challenging gaze focused on Roman. “What the hell?”

Solana shakes her head, nervously twiddling with the material of her dress. “Wes, plea—”

“What the hell do you want with my sister?” Wesley’s angry question is directed toward an irritated Roman. He doesn’t have time for this shit. Wes takes a step closer. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

“Wesley, please,” Solana implores, her eyes pleading. “It’s not—”

“How do you even know her?” The questions are fair and ongoing but simultaneously increasing Roman’s irritation and Solana’s apprehension. “Why are you even here?”

“This doesn’t fucking concern you,” Roman snaps. To his credit, if it was anyone else, he’d have them unconscious. Or dead. But, this is Solana’s sibling, so he’s doing his best to remain calm. As calm as Roman Reigns is capable of being.

“Anything concerning my little sister concerns me, motherfucker.” Roman has to smile, has to look away, jaw clenched and flexing. This son of a bitch truly doesn’t know who the fuck he’s dealing with.

Solana must detect as such, pleading with her brother once again, “Wesley, please, just—just give us a minute.”

Roman returns his gaze to the two of them, watching as Wes temporarily redirects his focus from the Head of the Table to the woman standing between them.

“Solana, what’s going on?” A calmer delivery combined with a suspicious gaze. “How do you know him?”

Roman couldn’t give two shits about Solana’s brother right about now. Doesn’t care that even while carrying his child, she’s still keeping the truth about them, about their prior relationship, a secret. It was always something she preferred.

“I just want to enjoy us. Without all the opinions.”

A shared sentiment during nicer, happier, simpler times.

“I—” She’s clearly at a loss of words, unsure of how to handle said situation. “I—” But, a cardinal, betraying mistake is made the minute she, most likely unintentionally, tightens her grip around her belly. A protective, telling thing, because Roman is also very much aware of the second recognition dawns.

“No…..” Wes eyes widen from the disbelief that accompanies said recognition. “He’s the father, isn’t he?”

Solana sniffles, voice quiet, “I can explain, Wes—”

However, Wesley's attention is completely on the object of all his anger and rage.

Roman

“You son of a bitch!”

A verbal lashing accompanied by Wes charging for Roman who easily moves out the way. An active effort considering his first instinct is to lay this bastard out, because in what universe does he think he stands a chance one on one with Roman Reigns?

“Wesley, no!” Solana’s attempts to settle her brother are all in vain as he once again tries to swing at the Tribal Chief. “Stop!”

“She’s 24, you sick fuck!” And it’s up until this point Roman was doing a well enough job controlling himself, maintaining his composure, all things considered. But, it’s Wesley’s next accusation that all but snaps his self-control. “You fucking predator! You raped her!”

In that very moment, whatever hold Roman had on his temper is nonexistent. He’s blinded and consumed by anger, by rage, because Roman is a lot of things. But that has and never will be one of them.

Both hands formed into fists, Roman doesn’t try to dodge or even avoid Wesley as the shorter man once again attempts to come at him. He’s ready this time.

But so is Solana.

“No!” And just like that, she puts herself in between them, a hand on his chest and her brother’s. She says something in Spanish, rushed, pressured, aimed toward Wesley. And then she’s looking at Roman, eyes begging, switching back to English, “please leave.”

For a second, Roman considers it. Doesn’t want to cause her anymore stress—or pain—than he already has. But that fucking brother of hers twist the knife even more.

“You should be in jail, you rapist!”

“Stop calling him that, Wes!” Solana snaps, urgency and anger filling her voice. “He didn’t rape me! It was consensual!”

“You’re fucking 24, Solana! He’s almost 40! Nothing is consensual about that!” It’s not even the words and accusations as much as the fact that Wes is practically screaming at her that has Roman’s rage growing.

“Watch how you fucking speak to her,” Roman growls, mindful of Solana’s hand still on his chest.

“Fuck you!” Wesley spats, hate in his eyes. “I should kill you for what you’ve done to her!"

“Wesley, please!”

“Shut up, Solana!” He screams, the volume and force of which make her jump, her eyes filled with shock. “Are you too stupid to even see—”

“What the fuck did you just call her?”

“I swear to God, if you say one more fucking thing to me—”

“What the fuck you gon’ do, huh?” Roman snaps, completely unhinged, seeing and feeling nothing but red. “You ain’t gon’ do shit!”

It all happens fast, so fast, too fast. Because one minute Solana is doing her best to separate two men she loves in two very different ways, and the next, an unconscious, unintentional act occurs. Unfocused, distracted gaze on the other person followed by a set of arms that push and shove her away.

Solana’s balance is lost from the force of the push, her body stumbling backwards, a set of eyes—horrified, shocked, repentant—filled with abject horror and her name being called with matching said emotion, the last thing she sees before a brief, intense, painful thud against her head against the corner of the counter and the consumption of the dark abyss.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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redpill-tfs · 2 days ago

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Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

#lib to con #liberal to conservative #atheist to christian #transformation #male transformation #suit and tie #preppy tf

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elixirfromthestars · 2 days ago

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A Snow Day With You

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (college au)

Summary: The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> sledding isn't as fun as when we were kids

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Ray @whatever-lmaoo ♡♡ Your comments on my first fic of these two have forever carved a home in my heart, so this one is for you ♡ I hope this fluffy piece can bring you a bit of happiness whenever college gets stressful ♡ This is a standalone fic, but everyone is welcome to read more of their story!₊˚⊹☆ Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

where their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter fics masterlist ❆

“Babe, we're going to get hypothermia,” you grumble out, hugging your coat closer to your body. The frosty wind shoving past your face, chilling you to the bone. Bucky plops the wooden toboggan onto the snow, laughing in disbelief at your assertion, “Sweetheart, we’re not getting hypothermia.” He’s not wrong as he says this, since apart from the wind, the weather was tolerable. Last night’s snowstorm ended this morning, leaving behind ten inches of snow. Enough for a multitude of winter activities—like sledding—to be possible.

“Maybe not, but one of us will break a bone,” you retort, watching in growing concern as other people slide down the snowy hill and end up tumbling out of their sleds when they reach the bottom. Bucky follows your line of sight and playfully rolls his eyes, “No one is going to break a bone, Y/n.” He goes to adjust your scarf, the indigo fabric a little too loose for his liking. Up close he can see the look in your eye, the one that tells him you’re not done trying to back out of this just yet.

“Maybe you won’t, but I might. I’m not athletic enough to go sledding.”

“Baby, you don’t have to be athletic to go sledding.”

The more you speak the more Bucky’s amusement grows, but he tries not to show it too much as he sees the underlying nervousness dancing in your eyes. He finishes fixing your scarf and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you. He smiles at you fondly, noticing your grumpy mood subside slightly. He doesn’t take your mood to heart, knowing the real reason you haven’t been feeling the best lately is because of one thing and one thing only.

Finals.

More specifically, final grades—or the lack thereof. Most of your professors haven’t submitted them yet, leaving you in a state of limbo unsure of whether you managed to save the semester or not.

Bucky has been your rock throughout finals season. Supporting you with extra study sessions, holding you close to soothe your frustration when it got the better of you, kissing all your tears away, and on those days you needed a break, he would put on your favorite comfort show and order takeout from your favorite restaurant. He did anything and everything he could to make you feel better.

These last few days, however, all of that wasn’t enough to shake away the dread that insisted on making a home in your heart. Bucky knew he needed to do something different to cheer you up and get your mind off of things. After seeing how the snow had piled up overnight, he was either going to ask you to build a snowman or go sledding.

Your boyfriend—captain of your university’s baseball team—naturally chose sledding.

“Just trust me, okay? I’ll hold you tight and make sure nothing happens to you,” Bucky promises as he makes his way over to the sled. He sits down on the end of it, his left hand gently outstretching to grab onto yours. Your gaze locks with his, your trepidation melting away the more you look into his eyes. There’s something about the snow all around him that makes his eyes a little more blue and it pulls you in with the assurance of safety. You nod, taking hold of his hand and letting him guide you to the front of the sled—slowly pulling you down to sit in front of him.

He instructs you on everything you need to know to keep yourself stable and inside at all times. You’re not entirely paying attention as you focus more on the way he scoots forward and presses your back against his chest. His arms are on either side of you, encasing you in a protective embrace. You lean into it, letting the steadiness of his presence soothe the remaining unease in your body.

“I’ll countdown from five and then I’ll push off, okay?” he mentions kindly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he awaits your response. You watch as others go down the snowy hill without a care in the world. Children and adults alike coasting down on sleds and pool floats, merriment written on their faces and echoing in their laughs. It helps subdue the butterflies in your stomach somewhat.

At your silence, Bucky presses a comforting kiss to your cheek, the coldness of his lips bringing you back to him. You look over your shoulder to give him a reassuring smile, “Okay, but don’t you dare let me go, Bucky Barnes.” You warn playfully, feeling the way his chest rumbles with a laugh before he replies, “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

He pulls you tighter against his chest as your hands grasp onto the steering rope. He starts the countdown from five gradually inching the sled to the edge of the peak. When the countdown ends, you feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter intensely as the descent begins. Your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes close tightly the entire way down. While a shriek of adrenaline escapes you, Bucky chortles the entire time as he’s having the time of his life.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Bucky poses the question when you reach the bottom, a boyish grin on his face. Your eyes open when you look behind you, noticing the way the apples of his cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold, his hair blown across his forehead, and yet the sparkle in his pretty blues unaffected by the chill. You’re reminded then and there that you’d do anything for him. Even sliding down the hill a million times if it meant keeping that joy on his face.

“I think I left my stomach at the top of the hill, but apart from that—it wasn’t so bad,” you concede, your smile matching his. He hums in amusement, “We should probably go get it then. Shouldn’t we?” You know he’s really asking you if you two could go down the hill again, and there’s no way you would ever be able to say no, so you nod—knowing you would follow him anywhere.

The second time you go down the hill you keep your eyes open. Marveling at the sight of the snowy trees blurring into one. By the third time, you're laughing along with Bucky and by the fourth you have the same sparkle in your eyes—enjoying the rush of the fall. And by the fifth, the stress of finals is long forgotten and Bucky feels an overwhelming sense of pride knowing he was able to lift that weight off your shoulders.

On your last descent, things don’t go as smoothly as the other times. Halfway down the hill, the sled bumps into a large rock hidden beneath the layers of snow. You barely have time to register when Bucky yells your name, as the sled derails from its path—your stomach flipping along with the sled.

You end up tumbling a few feet down the hill. Bucky holds you like a lifeline to his body as you land in the blanket of snow. You’re disoriented for a moment, but Bucky lifts himself to his knees in an instant, hovering above you to scan you from head to toe for any injuries. The worry etched into his features tugging at your heartstrings.

“Y/n, are you okay? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re not hurt. Do I need to—” The fit of giggles that erupt from you cuts off his distressed rambling, a bewildered expression replacing his concern. Instead of telling him you’re alright, you decide to show him. Your hands reach out to grasp the edges of his coat and pull him down for a kiss. He melts into it faster than ice does, a cheesy smile replacing his frown.

“I think that’s enough sledding for today,” you mumble into the kiss. He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly as he deepens it, “Mm, I second that. I can think of other ways we can spend the rest of the day,” his tone drips with suggestion, his eyes glimmering with playful mischief. You slap at his chest lightheartedly, which only elicits a deep chuckle from him before he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

No matter what comes next, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be on a snowy day than with him.

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blueberrybeomgyu · 2 days ago

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prince sungho drabble *ೃ༄

+:🥞:﹤content : 18+ mdni, power bottom!sungho but i'm not sure if that's the right term, handjobs / wc : 600 / ml

✧･ﾟ: *

prince sungho doesn't like getting dirty. he has you repaint his baby pink nails every three days, has you lotion every inch of his fingers before you slip a pair of gloves over them. he chooses what he wears, and he watches you in the mirror every step of the way to make sure you're putting it on him right. at least, that's what he says but you know his eyes wander, can feel them burning holes into parts of your skin he shouldn't be looking at. he's not shy, and if you catch him a few times with his eyes on your ass, he'll shrug and quirk an eyebrow – he can do what he wants.

he makes you feed him every part of his breakfast. he chews slowly and keeps eye contact with you the entire time you wipe crumbs away from his mouth. he teases you the entire day when the guards are distracted, dropping things just so he can watch you bend over to pick them up, fingers lingering where they barely meet yours as you hand it back to him.

after a long day of looking pretty, he prefers the way it feels when you scrub the soap over his skin as opposed to him doing it, less work for me, he'll say, but he's letting out soft, broken noises, and you genuinely doubt you're having an easier than he would. he makes sure you painstakingly clean off every inch of his body, his soft hair, his long neck, his smooth chest…often by the end of it, he’ll convince you to get in with him, how can you help him while having to lean over the side of the tub? it'd be so much easier if you just joined him…

his eyes wander again, hands resting on your body for much longer than necessary, getting you squirmy just from a few touches. on days when he’s feeling extra mean he presses gentle kisses to your back or neck and revel in the way you shiver, but it never goes far – he pulls back when he's bored, getting out of the tub and drying himself off. he orders you to finish washing yourself then come put him the bed.

he spreads out on the bed all pretty, getting worked up as you rub lotion on every inch of his skin. when his body is relaxed and his cock is standing upright, he bats his eyelashes at you and says, won’t you help me out? as if you have a choice…

he doesn't like getting dirty, except when it's the right moment. “time and place,” he says, and you know he means the hours you spend in his room every night, working your hand over his cock with your palm coated in unscented oil.

he likes to be touched a very specific way, letting you know that he's still in charge, and that you will only do as he says. he'll talk you through it all – just how hard to pinch his nipples, just where to start touching his cock first, just when to let go so he doesn't cum too early. on rare, special nights if he’s had an especially good day, he slips into a different headspace. his eyes roll back as he whines out a soft please, and you do as he taught you, flicking your thumb across his slit, massaging the sensitive part of his base right below his head, lightly squeezing the tip between your fingertips. his control wavers, but you never feel any less wrapped around his finger.

it doesn't take long for him to cum when he's like this, body shaking against his sheets, breathy moans ringing out in the walls of his room. your breath hitches at the sight, and he holds eye contact with you the entire time.

you're hot and wet yourself, eager to go back to the servant chambers, but he won't stand for a rushed clean up. you must wipe his own cum off of his body with a wet rag as he drifts off the sleep. if you're lucky, he'll fall asleep before you leave, and you can slip out of his room with any article of clothing that's soaked with his scent and will help you ease the ache in your underwear.

✧･ﾟ: *

MY FIRST SUNGHO POST !!!!!!!!!

#park sungho hard hours #park sungho hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #boynextdoor hard thoughts #park sungho imagines #boynextdoor imagines #park sungho smut #boynextdoor smut #park sungho x reader #boynextdoor x reader #queuecumber 🥒જ

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princesitangelita · 2 days ago

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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ jim refuses to leave the office without you after your lame boyfriend forgets to pick you up from work.. again..

warnings: just a little bit of angst, jim is jealous and frustrated, comfort (?), slight fluff, cheating (but not really???)

a/n: ditzy!reader only has a boyfriend in this fic alone, not as part of her entire !reader lore <3 send in jim req’s!

“byeee!” you adjusted the pink scarf around your neck as phyllis and bob vance from ‘vance refrigeration’ drove away, both of them waving at you with wide smiles plastered on their faces. god, it was cold out here. “come on, roy..” you whispered to yourself, poking your head out to look at the entrance of the parking lot. small clouds formed with each breath you exhaled, the cold pennsylvania air nipping at the skin of your cheeks and the tip of your nose. you watched as everyone filed out of the building one by one, your heart sinking to your stomach as the sun set further down the horizon.

sighing out in frustration, you scrambled through your purse for your phone, the bag slipping from your fingers before the contents tumbled out onto the concrete. you laughed to yourself, just thinking about how much more embarrassing can this get. your boyfriend had obviously forgotten all about picking you up for the second time this week, your favorite lipglosses are rolling down the pavement, the tubes only getting further out of arm’s reach, and your skirt is far too tight for you to pick up your stuff without looking awkward and frazzled.

“this is the worst..” you speed walked down the parking lot, your heels clicking against the walkway until jim came out, wasting no time in jogging over. “hey, what are you still doing here?” he followed your line of vision, quickly getting your stuff off of the ground before towering over you. your cheeks always heated at the height difference between you two, a hint of a smile playing on jim’s lips when he saw the flustered expression on your pretty face. “n-no reason! uhm, something came up with roy, so i’m—” before you could finish whatever lie was going to slip from your tongue, he interrupted you.

“again? does he know it’s like twenty degrees out here?”

jim was irritated to say the least— but not with you. never at you. he took off his coat, draping it over your shoulders before guiding you back inside. “wait here while i go warm up the car real quick, alright?” he didn’t give you time to object, leaving you in the warm lobby as he stepped out in nothing but a button up. deciding to dial roy one more time, you rolled your eyes when the call went straight to voicemail. you should’ve known it wouldn’t have gone through. throwing the damned thing back in your purse, you didn’t wait longer than five minutes before jim pulled up right out front.

he opened the door for you, his face bright red from the cold as he motioned for you to come outside. “jim, you really don’t have to do this! i was just about to go to the bus stop.” you stayed seated, shrugging off his coat as he shook his head. “and let you sit out in this weather? absolutely not.” he almost sounded offended, his tall figure coming inside once again to scoop you up in his arms. “really, jim, it wouldn’t be the first time, i—” opening the passenger door, he sat you down gently, cutting you off before you could make up a ridiculous excuse for your boyfriend who clearly didn’t care if you froze halfway to death.

when jim was in his seat, he couldn’t help but squeeze the steering wheel with an unforgiving grip. “i’m sure roy got caught up with something, it’s fine, truly!” why were you still trying to defend him? roy was the last person who deserved to be with you. the guy doesn’t even send you work flowers for christ’s sake! he blatantly checks out other girls in front of you, which jim could never wrap his head around because to him you were the only person who existed inside of a room, he never let you go out with your work buddies, and he sure as hell never complimented you.. at least not in the way you should be getting complimented.

it took a lot to get jim upset, but seeing the way your smile falters when roy dismisses something you say, or the way the sparkle in your eyes dim when he doesn’t react to something new about you. your hair, for example. you had got it done, the style suiting you perfectly, making you look so cute and pretty, all just for roy to not even acknowledge your new ‘do. he remembered you having to excuse yourself to the ladies room and seeing your glossy eyes avoid everyone’s gaze as you zoned out of the conversation roy was so focused on rambling about once you came back.

so bad, jim just wanted to ask what on earth you saw in him. of course, he wouldn’t do that, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wrack his brain pretty often for an answer. “i’m sure he got busy,” jim agreed, not wanting to push the situation, “do you think he’s home?” you blinked. he definitely had to be at home. “no.” you lied, meeting jim’s eyes, “why?” please ask me out, please ask me out, you repeated in your head. “ah, well, i don’t know about you, but i can really go for a hot chocolate from retro’s..” retros. that was your usual spot for whenever jim treated you to lunch.. which was almost everyday.

please say yes, please say yes, he pleaded silently as a sudden smile made its way to your lips. “with jumbo marshmallows and a croissant?” jim chuckled. “yeah, whatever you want.”

#❤︎₊ ⊹ works #₊˚⊹♡ ditzy!reader #₊˚⊹♡ jim halpert #the office #the office fanfiction #the office imagine #the office smut #the office x reader #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert fanfiction #jim halpert smut #jim halpert imagine

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ghoularaki · 3 days ago

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baby's breath | 15

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 2,694

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, bondage, emotional manipulation, humiliation/degrading, slight mindbreak

After the incident in your cage, you don’t know how much longer you could handle this torment. Levi had been rough with cleaning you last night. His tone was mean and scathing as he scrubbed your skin raw. The same lecture dripped off his tongue. Why don’t you just obey?

He didn’t care for your babbling tears and weak apologies. He knew you would just repeat this again until they or you break. You could never do it the easy way. It just wasn’t in your nature.

So Levi decided to give you the push—he told himself it’s for your sake, but he knew his selfish reasons.

All day while Erwin had left for work, Levi had upped the ante. You could tell he had something planned. He didn’t let you forget your shame that you wet yourself for the second time you were trapped in this house.

“You’re going to make yourself useful today,” He said as he dressed you for the day.

You tilted your head in confusion and grumbled. How exactly could you help in this state?

Turning towards the hamper in the corner of the bathroom, he grabbed it and commanded you to follow. Perplexed, you shuffled behind him out the bathroom and down the hall. Turning left, he went into the corridor you didn’t explore besides to flash the light. You stared at the window, it looked so different with sunlight fluttering through it.

Going to the door to the far left beside the window, Levi hitched the basket on his hip and opened the door. Leaving it open for you, you walked inside the foreign room.

Inside, in front of you in the small room was a washer and dryer. Levi placed the basket on the counter to the right of you, cabinets hung above it. In the corner was a door, you could only assume it was a closet. By the machines was a radiator.

“Sort these by lights and darks,” He commanded.

Not really understanding what he was trying to pull, you awkwardly shuffle over to the wooden counter. With limited mobility, you scooped up the clothes and sorted them as he demanded. Across the small room he went about his business, though his eyes didn’t leave you. His gaze burned against your back.

In no time, you finished the task you were given. Pivoting on your foot, you grunted at him. He was already waiting.

He nodded his head to the cabinet above you, “Grab the laundry detergent.”

Quirking a brow, you went back to the counter. Above you the cabinets had a handle thankfully. Reaching up, you cupped the handle between your curled hands. The detergent was on the bottom most shelf. Most likely to be easily accessible to Levi. On your tippy-toes you were able to reach the gallon, but you couldn’t get a good grip.

You knew Levi wanted you to ask—well, gesture—for help. Fuck that. You weren’t going to roll over for him. Glaring at the obnoxious yellow gallon, you squeezed both hands around it the best you can and pulled.

It immediately slipped out of your hands and you clenched your eyes, ready for impact. The warmth of Levi’s chest against your back prodded your skin as he swiftly caught the detergent.

Opening your lids, you tilted your head to him. His face was blank, but you could tell the annoyance in his posture.

“That’s my bad. I forgot how idiotic you are.”

One hand clutched on the gallon, he pulled from you. His warmth left with him.

You looked down, humiliated. Levi knew exactly what to say to make you feel thoroughly degraded.

He didn’t acknowledge you while he finished the laundry. You stood there aimlessly, feeling like a stupid child. Your nose itched at wanting to cry. Not many things got to you like this, but both him and Erwin knew exactly how to dig into old, festering wounds. The silent treatment after being ripped a new one wasn’t anything unfamiliar.

Burying the spiraling thoughts and unpleasant memories, you simply waited for Levi to be done.

Finally glancing at you, he crossed his arms. “Are you competent enough to bring the basket back to the bathroom while I make lunch or is that too difficult for you, too?”

A snarl left before you could help it. He purposely made you try to get the detergent knowing full well you couldn’t properly grab it. And now he continuously rubbed in that you needed help.

Huffing, you spun around, grabbed the basket and stomped past him. His hand easily hooked above your elbow and tugged you back.

“Watch your tone.”

He jostled you when you glared. Shifting your gaze off to the side, you sighed and nodded. Getting what you were trying to convey, he let you go. Scurrying away from him, Levi popped you on the ass.

Your shoulders shot to your ears as you walked faster. The slap was light and your bum didn’t even sting, but you do not like him being so touchy especially in that way.

Rushing to the bathroom, you dropped the basket down. You sat on the toilet lid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Levi was trying his hardest to get you to break, you knew this well. As much as you didn’t want it to affect you, it did. Your resolve had already been flimsy, like a dilapidated building, from the incident in the crate.

Putting your head between your knees, you exhaled. How much longer could you handle this? Not just this particular punishment, but being confined here. Were you doomed to be broken in like a bad dog. How much longer until you became another one of Erwin’s failed strays? Trying to strategize the possibilities only made you dizzy.

Pushing yourself up, you switched your brain off and walked in the kitchen to where Levi stood.

“Took you long enough.”

You shrugged at his jab. Levi’s cheek twitched at your monotone response.

The table had already been set with sandwiches. You stared at the food blankly. There was no way you could eat without help or else you would make a mess. Levi hated messes.

“You should be grateful I’m letting you eat at the table.”

Pulling your chair out, Levi tilted the chair to face him. Sitting in your chair, you didn’t look at him as he unbuckled the belts in the muzzle and removed it from your throbbing jaw. Rolling the bone around, you tried to relieve as much pain as you could.

The gag clattered against the table top. Levi grabbed his own food and ate. You merely stared at your food, working it around in your brain on how to grab it without embarrassing yourself.

“If you need help, use your words,” He snarked, not looking at you.

Glaring up from under your brow, you didn’t comment. Going back to your sandwich, you reached out. Just as the leather almost touched it, you stopped. You didn’t want to dirty it. Levi would only call you filthy and you don’t know if you could handle it.

You weren’t filthy, you weren’t dirty, you weren’t a slob, and you most certainly weren’t incompetent.

Sliding the plate away, you sagged against the chair.

“Stop being stubborn and eat.” Levi had finished his own food.

Giving the silent treatment right back to him, you shook your head. Slipping the plate to him, he grabbed a slice, ready to feed you as he intended.

Your skin crawled at the thought of Levi hand-feeding you. That was something Erwin relished in, not him. Levi didn’t like treating you like a child, he gave you more leeway to be the adult you are.

Rapidly, you shook your head again.

“No? Then pick it up.”

The helplessness swallowed you whole. The support beam holding the last of your sanity snapped.

An earth shattering sob hiccuped from the depth of your diaphragm. The mitts covered your face as you cried and cried.

Levi blinked in surprise and instantly his hands cradled your shoulders. His palms engulfed the bones, igniting you.

“I can’t take it! I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry, I was scared! Please stop this, please,” The words tumbled out in a wicked stream. At this point, you don’t even know if you’re apologizing for trying to escape, or something else.

Pulling your hands from your face, he considered you for a moment. “What are you willing to do to be forgiven?”

“Anything! Just please stop with the muzzle and mittens. I won’t even complain about the shock collar,” You babbled, staring into his unwavering gaze.

“Prove it.”

“How?”

Levi didn’t say anything as his hand went to brush against your wet, puffy cheek. “I will think of something as we wait for Erwin to come home.”

Letting your head hang, you didn’t reply as you continued to sniffle. How weak could you be?

You winced at the slamming of the front door. Erwin was home. This did not soothe you as you curled in yourself. You were sat on the couch, waiting for him to arrive.

Levi continued to finish cleaning the house, leaving you to mope.

“Hello princess- why aren’t you wearing your gag?” Erwin cut himself off, puzzled at your lack of restraints.

You didn’t respond. Levi walked in and spoke for you, “The brat has something to say.”

“Oh?” Erwin raised a thick brow.

“I’m sorry,” You paused to gulp, “I will- um, I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.” Your own patheticness made you gag.

A smile graced Erwin as he stepped further inside. Kneeling before you, he clutched onto your hands. “Anything?”

“Anything,” You breathed.

Levi came to stand by Erwin and grabbed your jaw. Stretching your neck and turning you to him, his fingers dug into the hollows of your cheeks.

“I decided what I want. Bark for me.”

Cornered by the two men, you couldn’t process his request. His fingers pinched further in.

Swallowing your pride, you parted your lips and barked. The sound was small and unsure, you honestly sounded like a pathetic puppy begging for attention.

Levi swiped his thumb across your lip. He gave a small shutter, obviously pleased with your broken disposition.

“Got any requests, Erwin?” Levi asked and honed in on the man next to him.

“I do.”

Sliding his hand away from your face, Levi didn’t leave.

Erwin grabbed your attention, his fingers fiddled with the belts. Those deep blues bore you. “I want you to address me properly. I’m your daddy. I know how hard it is for you, so I will allow three reminders. If I need to remind you more than that, then everything goes back with no fuss. Understood?”

Biting the inside of your cheek to subdue the gag, you retreat in your head. “Understood, d-daddy.”

Shockingly a blush spread on Erwin’s cheeks as he let his head hang for a moment. A soft fuck muttered under his breath.

“That enough to get you going, you old pervert?” Levi jabbed at Erwin, amusement present on his face.

Erwin only chuckled, he wasn’t wrong.

Composing himself, Erwin flicked open the belts and one by one freed your hands. You instantly flexed your fingers, returning proper circulation to them. Free once more, you were ready to abuse it.

“Can I go to the bathroom, daddy?” The word tasted foul on your tongue, but you weren’t going to immediately land yourself gagged and bound again.

Erwin smiled, “Go ahead, pretty girl.”

Crawling away from them, you jumped off the other side of the couch and raced to the bathroom. Shutting the door, you leaned your back against it and slid down until your butt ungracefully hit the cold floor.

Staring into the room, you look into the open compartments under the sink. Curious, you crawled to the bins you haven’t seen before. Rummaging through them you didn’t find anything useful, but you did come across a pink bin filled with feminine products. Unused feminine products. A cold rock dropped to the bottom of your stomach.

You haven’t had your period in months.

Forgetting you indeed needed to go, you swung the door open and fumbled out to look out the window down the hall. You knew the weather had gotten slightly colder, but the green leaves being swallowed by orange only cemented what you thought.

You haven’t bled since being kidnapped. Your period was pretty regular, every once and a while skipping a month or two if you were stressed enough, but never this long.

Racking your hands into your hair, you gripped the strands and tugged. You were going to be sick. You needed out of here now.

The rest of the night you were on edge, deep in your head. Nothing processed in front of you. Both men noticed the spontaneous change in your demeanor. They didn’t matter as you were actively losing your mind and your cool.

You refused to believe there was a possibility you were pregnant. It would have to be Levi’s. You never wanted children, especially not his. Before you were homeless you were trying to get your tubes tied, but you ultimately couldn’t afford it.

You could tell them about this, they must have also noticed, but you were scared of the reaction. Would they force you to keep it, continue this fucked up game of house?

Shaking your head, you weren’t going to risk it. So you stayed silent, spoke only when addressed and picked at the scabs on your palms to distract yourself.

“Ready for bed?” Erwin asked softly.

“Yes, daddy.” You hated this, you hated them with every fiber of your being.

Guiding you to your room, you bared with his palm at the small of your back. Opening the crate, he didn’t need to help as you went inside yourself.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

Laying away from him, you stared out into the room, “You too, daddy.”

Erwin lingered for a moment as if to question you, but decided against it and walked out the room.

For hours you did not move. You slowed your breathing to listen out for the men. Even when both footsteps retreated up the stairs to retire, you waited.

You counted to a thousand to ease your mind. Reaching said number, your hand grabbed your teddy and pulled the screwdriver from betwixt the cotton.

Getting up on your knees, you picked the lock with ease. You were getting good at this. Maybe when you get out of here, you can become a locksmith. You saw somewhere they made decent money.

Placing the tool down, you clambered out your cage and crept to the door. Carefully, you leaned your head out and stared down the hall for any noise. The house was bare of any sound. Satisfied, you tip-toed out.

You continued your descent down the corridor. At the arch to the kitchen and living room, you peaked your head to see no Levi having his midnight tea. You had been awake the whole time so Levi was bound to come down soon, so you had to be quick.

Shuffling to the mudroom, you crouched at the drawer and grabbed the flashlight. Leaving it slightly ajar, you went to the familiar hallway. Tonight must have been a full moon from how brightly it streamed through the window.

Sitting down, you clicked on the flashlight. The old couple must be suspicious at this point. When you came home from the hospital the elderly man had lingered, he must know something is up. Though you have no clue how long it would take before he or his wife noticed.

Absentmindedly, you signaled S.O.S. over and over. You worked it over in your head, did you have the time to waste relying on the possibility they could save you? Despite being free of the restraints, there was no way they would be careless enough again to give you an easy way back into the public.

From behind you, you heard the floorboard creak. Before you could whip around, a hand clamped on your nape.

“Care to explain what you’re doing, princess.”

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