#the tone policing. is crazy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherienymphe · 6 months

Text

I Know What You Did Last Summer (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, MURDER, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, KNIFEPLAY, STALKING, ANGST, voyeurism, underage drinking, JJ x reader, pogue!reader

➥ Happy Halloween weekend!

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @/kimjiho1

summary: When your friends start dying one by one, you're not exactly honest when the police ask if you know of anyone who'd want to hurt them. You do...but he's dead. You know this because you buried him.

You stared out into the water, a rare morning in which you woke up early enough to watch the sun rise over Outer Banks. This time last year, you might’ve tried to catch a wave or two, a way for you to often escape and clear your head. However, the problems of last year were gone and there was nothing left for you to escape from.

No one left for you to escape from.

Your gaze fell to the dock beneath your feet, eyes glazing over as memories of a tumultuous relationship plagued your thoughts. The memory of bruised skin and aching limbs made you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself, the cool North Carolina breeze having nothing to do with it. You tensed for half a second at the sound of a familiar voice on the wind before realizing that you were only imagining it as you often did these days.

Some days you thought you were going crazy, but then you reminded yourself that no sane person could do what you did and walk away with no baggage whatsoever. Then again, it could be argued that no sane person could do what you did period. Thoughts of that night left a sour taste in your mouth, and for the past year, you constantly worried if you did the right thing. It didn’t matter if you did or didn’t because it wasn’t like you could take it back, but still…

Analyzing your past decisions made you feel less like a sociopath or something.

When you heard your mom calling you from the house, you pulled yourself away from the water. Your dad was just heading out for work, and he exchanged a quick hug with you on the way to his truck. You could tell that your 180 within the past year stumped them, but it was in that good way that always sparked a bunch of compliments—you’re so much happier or you’re talking more or you’re around a lot more.

The difference was noticeable to anybody who knew you…and everyone knew why.

Even if they didn’t want to say it.

“You know I leave for work in a little bit, but I put some bacon in the oven, and I just wanted you to know so you could take it out.”

You smiled at her, leaning against the counter.

“We’ll see how long it lasts once JJ gets here,” you told her.

Your tone was mocking, but you both knew you were entirely serious. After telling her that you might be staying at Kie’s tonight, you bid her goodbye, gaze focused on the oven as you checked the bacon. You knew it wouldn’t be long before half of your friends burst through that door, and so you didn’t hesitate to take it out the moment it looked like it was done.

It was when you were placing the pan on the stove top…when you heard it.

It was a light thump that came from the back of the house, and you paused with a frown. It was hardly anything—could’ve easily been a limb falling out of a tree or something—if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounded like it came from inside of the house. Your frown deepened the longer you stood there, listening some more without success. With reluctance, you wrote it off, and you only just relaxed when you felt hands on your shoulders.

“Jesus!”

You pressed your hand to your chest, frowning over your shoulder as both a familiar blond and brunette made themselves comfortable at your table. You hadn’t even heard them pull up, oblivious even to the door opening.

“No, JJ,” the voice behind you corrected with a chuckle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Hilarious,” you commented. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”

“Kind of figured when you grabbed your chest just then,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What were you looking at, anyway?”

Her question reminded you of the noise, and realizing that it was probably them you heard, you shrugged.

“Thought I heard something, but it was just you guys.”

By now, JJ had joined them, leaning back in a chair.

“You’re still coming to Rose’s little ‘fall festivity’ right? Somehow Wheezie got out of going by talking our dad into letting her go to a sleepover instead, and I don’t really wanna be alone.”

Her words quieted some near the end, a brief awkward silence as your eyes met hers, both of you ignoring the obvious.

“Of course,” you assured her. “I told my mom I’d probably be staying at Kie’s since it’s closer to your house. Knowing Rose, this thing could go on all night.”

Sarah agreed with that, interrupting John B and JJ’s conversation.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” she told him with a pout, bumping his shoulder with her own.

The face he made was answer enough, and she huffed.

“Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m sure Ward would be thrilled about that,” her boyfriend mumbled.

“You know he’s better, now. He’s not so against you ever since…”

Your best friend trailed off, and your gaze found the floor just as all of theirs traveled to you. The silence was short—not so much awkward—but definitely far from light. You all knew what Sarah was going to say, how Ward stopped caring about so many superficial things. How he was the kind of man who focused on things that actually mattered, now.

He was the kind of man who carried grief, now.

…and it changed him for both the better and the worst.

“I’m going to go and grab my purse and change of clothes. Bacon’s all yours,” you mostly said to JJ, quick to leave the room.

Once inside your room, your eyes landed on your mirror, gaze lingering on the bare space where dozens of pictures used to be. It had been a little over a year since you’d taken them down, but sometimes, when you recalled the happier times before it all went up in flames, you missed them. You missed looking at them when you did your makeup or even just lingering on them when you were on the phone.

Chest aching for so many reasons, you forced yourself to turn away.

It was as you were grabbing your purse and the extra bag with your dress for tonight did you glance up. You blinked at your window, a small frown forming between your brows. Approaching it, you reached out, slowly pulling it back down and locking it shut, desperately trying to remember if you’d even let it up the night before.

“I swear to God, Rose is about to lose her shit,” Sarah chuckled from next to you. “She bought that dress months ago for this stupid party only for her to show up wearing the same one.”

You sipped on your drink that you were definitely not supposed to be having, a light laugh of your own escaping. The little soiree was everything Sarah said it would be, and you could see why Wheezie took the opportunity to bail. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but like every year—or almost every year—Rose was having a series of parties leading up to the last night in October. You were just about to drag Sarah to the kitchen in search of those little finger sandwiches when a loud clanging noise caught everyone’s attention.

Ward stood in the center of the living room when you looked over.

The older man had a glass in his hand and was setting down a fork with the other. You couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in a year, and something in your chest ached, guilt eating at you. There was a small smile on his lips, but the rest of his expression didn’t exactly match up. Somehow, you knew that you weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.

“Um…sadly, we weren’t blessed to partake in one of Rose’s fabulous get togethers last year…”

You swallowed at the way the mood in the room seemed to sink, and you didn’t need to look over to find Sarah glancing at you.

“As you all know, my only son Rafe went missing around this time a year ago.”

Somber murmurs filled the room, and your hand tightened on your drink. Tuning Ward out, the only thing you heard was white noise, probably missing another tangent about how he wished he’d been less hard on him and had done more to heal their relationship before he had to file that missing person’s report that fateful morning.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you fought to keep a frown off of your face.

Memories of dark blond hair and intense blue eyes plagued your mind, making your stomach turn. If Ward’s memories with Rafe were less than fond, then yours were absolutely gut-wrenching. The hairs on your arm stood on end as you thought about the last time you’d seen your ex-boyfriend, and you felt your feet carrying you down the stairs just as Sarah reached for you.

The backyard was empty when you made it outside, and the fresh air did so little to calm you down.

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears at the thought of Rafe, a cold chill passing through you. With a huff, you stepped out of your heels, tears kissing your eyes as you thought about Ward in there giving some grand speech about Rafe and their relentless efforts to find him. You were pulled out of it by the sound of your name, and you wiped your face, oblivious to the fact that some tears had even spilled over.

Sarah’s sympathetic gaze met yours when you turned around.

“Are you okay…?” she whispered, and you sniffed.

“What do you think?” you lightly wondered, a humorless chuckle escaping as you shrugged. “Who knew that a felony was all it took for Rafe to finally get the love he always wanted.”

Your words were scathing, and Sarah slowly approached you, reaching for you.

“Hey…hey,” she repeated until you looked at her. “You’re safe, now. Rafe can’t ever hurt you ever again.”

While those words brought you comfort, they did nothing to diminish your anger.

“It’s not…fair,” you breathed, shaking your head. “He was nothing short of a monster to me…and they talk about him, now, like he was some angel come to earth.”

You knew it bothered Sarah too—she was there that night after all—and she sighed. The blonde pulled you into a hug, holding you tight and rubbing your back. You sometimes wondered if her feelings on the matter were as black and white as yours. Rafe was her brother, after all, and despite their less than enviable relationship, she had to have still loved him.

“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”

You said the words so quietly, as if paranoid someone would hear despite the fact that you were alone. Sarah tensed for half a second, probably because for the first time in months, you were explicitly talking about what you did that night—what all four of you did. She pulled away, gaze somber and resolved all at once.

“It’s been a year,” she said as if that were answer enough. “…turns out the police are even more useless than we all thought.”

You swallowed, and Sarah fought to calm you.

“If they haven’t found him by now then…”

She trailed off with a shrug, but you weren’t so convinced. While plenty of people got away with murder, plenty of others did not, and it didn’t matter that Rafe’s temper had escalated so badly one night until it came down to your life or his. Nobody would care that he used to threaten you and choke you and harm you so bad that you could barely walk sometimes. They wouldn’t care about any of that.

All that would matter was that he was Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son.

…and you’d killed him.

John B was the first to die.

…and maybe that was why the horrible truth didn’t even cross your mind then.

Your sleep-addled brain fought hard to make sense of the words pouring out of Cleo’s mouth, and despite how unbelieving they were, the feminine wails you could hear in the background told you they were true whether you wanted them to be or not. Sarah’s choked sobs were the last thing you heard before Cleo was forced to hang up.

You didn’t even remember throwing on clothes, only knowing that you somehow managed to leave the house looking halfway decent.

When you made it to the hospital, Sarah was nowhere to be found.

“She was…” Kie trailed off, shaking her head. “They had to give her something.”

You took in the way Kiara was shaking, and unable to keep standing, she collapsed in a chair. You wanted to ask her what happened, but you could see it on her face that she couldn’t handle that, right now. Her eyes were shiny and glazed over, and she looked like she was going to be sick. She looked like she could barely even breathe.

“What…? I don’t…”

You couldn’t get it out, feeling wholly numb as your gaze met Cleo’s. The dark-skinned girl ran her hands down her face, her own gaze tearful.

“They found him in the water, man.”

Her soft words made your heart sink, and you frowned.

“Said he got tangled up somehow… Drowned.”

At that, you did finally sit down, reaching out to hold the armrest. Somehow, any other cause of death would’ve made it feel less real, preposterous maybe. You just couldn’t see John B. dying at the hands of some asshole or choking on his food or run down like a dog in the street.

…but drowning?

John B. dying in the water—a place he loved and often frequented—made sense.

That you could believe.

“Pope and JJ are on the way,” Kie mumbled so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Nothing about any of this felt real. It was only yesterday that you were talking to John B., tossing a beer at his head after some slick remark. You couldn’t quite process that you’d never be able to do that again. Your best friend was gone. Sarah’s boyfriend was gone, and you wouldn’t see nor talk to him again. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that lack of reason was what kept you numb, kept you staring at the white floors of the hospital until two familiar figures made themselves known.

It wasn’t until your eyes lifted and met JJ’s did it really hit you.

The pain in his face from losing the friend he’d known practically since birth seeped into you too, and you were on your feet before JJ’s legs could fail him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight for both of your sakes, and your tears finally spilled over when you felt JJ’s hitting your skin.

You never really saw JJ cry much—it just wasn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was just the way he was or if he took it upon himself to be the obligatory goofy friend who was almost always in a good mood. Today, however, JJ cried harder than you’d ever seen him, the death of his best friend a thousand times worse than anything Luke could do to him.

He held you like a lifeline, even well into the night when everyone was forced to retreat to their homes, nothing more anyone could do. Even if JJ could find some comfort in his own home, you wouldn’t dare ask him to, feeling that same refusal to be alone. You had only been able to shake your head at your mom when she came to see if you wanted—needed—anything.

You didn’t miss the way her sad and heavy gaze fell to JJ in your arms, the blond boy sobbing into your chest as you held him on your bed.

Neither of you talked for what felt like days. There really wasn’t much to say, anyway. On the off chance that JJ moved, it was purely to use the bathroom or eat something that would keep him off the brink of starvation. You couldn’t really tell if you were handling it better than him or if you were just coping in an equally unhealthy way.

There was just this understanding that grief had kind of taken both of your voices.

JJ leaned on you throughout the entirety of John B.’s funeral, and when your eyes met Pope’s, you shook your head at the silent question in his dark eyes. They flitted to JJ at that, and you weren’t surprised to see them holding each other at the end of the service. John B. was like a brother to both of them, and maybe they could help each other in ways the rest of you couldn’t.

“Why was he out there so late?”

That was what Kie wondered as you all sat at The Chateau, still fighting to understand your new reality without John B. only hours after his funeral.

“We all always go swimming whenever,” you told her, and she shook her head.

“…but never that late…and if so, never alone,” she argued, looking at all of you. “They think he died around one in the morning. There was no alcohol or anything in his system. Why would John B. be out there at one in the morning?”

“What does it matter?” JJ spat, making you flinch. “Why are we sitting here trying to analyze this when John B. is dead? Huh?”

Kie looked taken aback, and you could see her mentally reminding herself that JJ was in pain.

“I’m just saying-.”

“No, I know what you’re trying to do.”

The blond was standing, now, angrily staring down at her.

“Trying to make sense of this, trying to find something or someone to blame because that’s easier to swallow than the truth,” he nastily threw at her. “John B.’s death doesn’t make sense…and sometimes that’s just life.”

He stormed off before anyone could respond, and you swallowed at the sound of his bike starting up. You took Kie’s hand at the sight of her forlorn expression, gently squeezing it and sending her a smile. JJ was angry, probably angrier than any of you, and he wasn’t keen on how Kie was trying to deal with it either. The silence after he left was thick, and you felt almost afraid to speak your mind too, because now that Kie had said it, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It didn’t make sense for John B. to be out in the water that late.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when JJ kissed you only a few days after John B.’s funeral, but you were.

You all were grieving, and besides Sarah who hadn’t left her home in days, JJ wasn’t coping well. He was so angry and confused and hurt, and truthfully, you’d just been happy he wasn’t going off on some bender or starting fights. He didn’t exactly grow up with the best example on how to cope with anything, and so when he pressed his lips to yours on your front porch, you could only think that there were worse ways to handle this.

Your breathing was uneven as he ran his hands over you, backing you up into your house. Your parents weren’t home, adulthood stopping for no one in the midst of tragedy, and you held onto JJ to keep from tripping over your own feet. You’d wondered what it’d feel like to kiss JJ sometimes, but only ever in passing, and you could count the number of times on one hand. It was bound to happen at least once or twice when you were friends for as long as you had been.

The kiss was rough but not unenjoyable, and you moaned into his mouth when your back met your couch. To your surprise, you liked the feel of JJ’s body on yours, keeping you trapped between him and the couch, and the blond sighed into the kiss when your fingers ran up his back, dipping beneath his shirt. When his lips ghosted along your jaw, your gaze landed on the ceiling, and you arched your chest up into his. His lips were pressing open mouth kisses to your throat, and when your gaze roamed—landing on the window behind him—you violently flinched.

“What’s wrong-?”

JJ cut his own words off when you sat up, lips parted as you stared at the window.

It was dark, and the longer you stared outside, the sillier you felt. Your heart was racing so fast—much too fast—and for a moment, you were scared you were having a heart attack. You felt overheated, and your skin was fighting to get back to normal instead of clammy. JJ said your name again, and you merely shook your head at him, struggling to stop your hands from trembling and your vision from swaying.

For just a moment, you could’ve sworn that someone was outside and standing right outside of that window. It was brief, quite literally a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but it wasn’t solely that that had you fighting to calm down, right now. You reached up, rubbing your chest and blinking back tears, hardly paying attention to JJ’s concern.

The way the person stood—their height, their build, their stance—it was all too familiar.

It looked eerily similar to your ex-boyfriend.

That thought had you standing, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. A few tears escaped without your consent, and you licked your lips, finally admitting to yourself why this whole John B. situation had you numb. The thought of John B. now had your chest aching, and for a brief moment, you weren’t seeing your best friend be lowered into the ground.

It was Rafe.

“Are you okay…?”

You finally acknowledged JJ, and you looked at him with a tearful gaze.

“No, I don’t think I am,” you choked out. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, I promise.”

“I shouldn’t have done that-.”

“No, JJ, it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I’m just not handling this as well as I thought I was.”

He seemed to understand that, nodding at you.

The silence wasn’t tense or anything, but it was a little awkward. After all, one moment you and JJ were clearly about to have sex, and now, you couldn’t get rid of the cold chill that came over you. You glanced at the window again, so sure that you’d seen someone there, only looking away when JJ pulled you down to sit with him.

“You know I like you,” he whispered, making your eyes widen a bit. “Well, now you know.”

You blinked at him, oddly thinking that whatever this was tonight was some combination of grief and loneliness and the result of a violent confrontation with his own mortality. JJ ran his hand through his blond locks, sighing.

“First it was the whole Pogue on Pogue thing,” he said to which you snorted, recalling the day Pope and Cleo waltzed into The Chateau holding hands. “…then it was Rafe.”

You looked down at that, tightening your arms around yourself at the mention of your ex.

“Then Rafe went missing, and it didn’t seem right even though you didn’t seem…sad about it.”

You swallowed at that, a wet and muddy night coming to mind.

“…but now my best friend is dead, and I’m scared that if I wait another minute, it’ll be too late.”

Your gaze softened at that, looking at him, and it really didn’t take you long to realize that deep down you’d liked JJ too. You first noticed the feeling after the third or fourth time Rafe had hit you, and you just remembered thinking that JJ would never. You hadn’t lingered on it, but now you were wishing you had. Maybe if you felt like you had a way out, you would’ve left Rafe sooner. The relationship might not have continued.

…and that night never would’ve happened.

With the death of John B., you understood exactly what JJ meant. John B. hadn’t been some old man pushing ninety who lived this long and fulfilling life. He was eighteen, unable to even get the chance to start. It was unexpected and heartbreaking but most of all scary, so when you took the blonde’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.

You had no idea that while taking the first step with JJ into the second relationship you’d ever have, Pope’s body was being dumped in the water.

When you all collectively made the decision the next morning to go and see Sarah, no one thought too much of it when Pope didn’t answer. Sarah was allowed her solitude to grieve, you felt she was owed that, but none of you wanted your friend to deal with this alone for too long. Considering how early it was, everyone just assumed that he was still asleep when you decided to meet up.

JJ—now in the possession of the Twinkie—made the decision to slow down at the sight of so many squad cars near the water. It was strange, and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Outer Banks was not without its fair share of crime, but you’d never had the misfortune of witnessing a coroner’s van pull up to the scene.

“What do you think that’s about?” Cleo wondered.

You spoke without thinking.

“Call Pope again.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you looked out of the window, and there was a beat of silence before they all reached for their phones at once. That twisted feeling only tightened when none of them got an answer. You didn’t voice your thoughts, partly because you didn’t want to be the one to, but you also didn’t want to make them true, somehow.

…but they were true whether you said them aloud or not.

You’d never been inside of an interrogation room—or Kildare County’s version of one, anyway. You never thought you would be, but in this moment, you were thinking of a lot of things you never thought would be. Shoupe—a man you’d grown used to seeing all your life—handed you a cup of water, and your fingertips only grazed it as it sat on the table.

With the discovery that Pope was now dead too, the numbness you’d felt was forced to crack and shatter. While Cleo had to be restrained and held back from ambushing the crime scene, you’d been unable to keep upright, collapsing right there on the side of the road. The entire gruesome debacle had attracted a crowd. After all, Outer Banks just wasn’t used to this, and several people tried to help you remain conscious—namely JJ.

You didn’t even remember breaking down, didn’t even remember being approached by the cops. You actually could barely remember a thing after witnessing a familiar body being pulled from the murky water. You knew that you cried, had to, because your eyes were tight. You knew that you screamed because your throat was raw. You knew these things because of how you felt…not because you actually remembered any of it.

Shoupe’s sigh made you blink, and instead of laying on the side of that road, you were surrounded by four walls.

“Do you know of…anyone who’d want to hurt Heyward’s son?”

His words gave you pause, and you lifted your gaze with a deep frown.

“…what?” you choked out after some time.

His gaze was soft—Pope was your friend and he’d watched you both grow up as thick as thieves—but also inquiring. You watched him briefly lick his lips, sighing to himself as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He seemed to be conflicted, having some kind of internal battle before reaching out to you across the table.

“Pope was dead before he was in the water.”

You merely blinked at him, not quite processing his words.

“Someone…someone cut his throat.”

At that, your vision blurred, and you could see on Shoupe’s face that he was predicting what was about to happen before you even tried to stand. The older man reached for you again, attempting to keep you from falling, but your feet tripped over one another as your legs lost their strength. When your knees hit the hard floor, your brain didn’t even register the pain.

Burying two friends within two weeks of each other was something you would’ve never predicted. Not until you were in your seventies, at least. It felt like the opposite of unreal. It felt too real because all you could feel was pain. It was numbing and excruciating all at once somehow, and having the whole town look at you like some walking magnet for tragedy didn’t help.

In truth, all of your friends got the stares. Two out of the group were gone—one drowned and one brutally murdered—and people looked at the rest of your friends like they didn’t know what to think of them…but you? Oh, they looked at you like they both feared and hated you, and you knew why.

It was only a year ago that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had gone missing, and now two of your friends met the same fate everyone suspected Rafe did. There was something in their eyes that held blame, and you might have found it funny if you weren’t so angry and sad and miserable.

You were only responsible for one of them.

“No fingerprints, no footprints, no nothing,” Kie whispered, angrily. “It’s like Pope was just killed and dumped by a ghost.”

JJ was silent as he stared out into the rich girl’s yard, and you worriedly eyed him. Cleo too. It’s not like any of you were doing okay, but JJ had lost the two people he was closest to in the world, and Cleo was now in the same boat as Sarah. It was then that the blonde girl shifted, a noise leaving her throat that had you all looking over.

“Do I have to be the one to say what we’re all thinking?”

She looked between you all with a heavy gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“That John B.’s accident wasn’t an accident…?”

Your lips parted at that, and you looked around to see that no one else had expected that either. No one else but Kie who simply wrapped her arms around herself. You recalled her words from last week, how she’d questioned why John B. was even out on the water that late. JJ had been so quick to shut it down, and despite having the same question as Kie, you’d also forced yourself to let it go.

You hadn’t wanted to fathom that someone had killed John B.

“Now, hold on-.”

“Oh, come on, JJ!” Sarah cried. “John B. drowns at one something in the morning, and a week later one of his best friends is murdered?”

You swallowed, hating this conversation.

“This is too coincidental,” she whispered, wiping her face.

The silence was loud as her accusation—and the implications that came with it—just hung in the air. You all looked between each other, and you could see it then. It was sinking in that this was too much of a coincidence, and Cleo spoke up.

“Why would anyone want to hurt them?”

“I think you mean why would anyone want to hurt us,” Kie threw out, and you all froze. “If someone did kill John B. and that same person killed Pope…isn’t it safe to assume they’re working their way through the group?”

You stood, really hating this conversation now, and stared out into the yard.

“I mean, what? Only John B. and Pope happened to piss this person off?”

“That’s even if what you’re saying is true,” JJ argued, visibly disturbed, now. “I mean, think about this. Who the hell did all of us piss off this damn bad? Huh? That doesn’t make any sense.”

It was then that your gaze met Cleo’s, and something passed through her eyes that you also knew passed through yours. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the other girl was thinking about that night, recalling a bloodstained carpet and shovels that would never see the light of day. Your lips parted as your gaze lowered, and feeling like you might be sick, you sat down. No. There was nothing you could think of that all of you had done to collectively anger someone this much. However, there was something that came to mind that four of you had done.

…but Rafe was dead.

He’d been dead for a year, and so what Cleo was obviously thinking was clearly not possible.

Even with that fact, it still didn’t prevent you from being terrified, and it was no surprise that none of you wanted to be alone. Even if John B.’s accident was just that, someone had still killed Pope, and Outer Banks now had a murderer in their midst. If people looked at you with disdain before, then it was nothing in comparison to when a curfew was enforced.

“First it was Rafe…”

You tensed at the sound of the voice.

“…then John B. and now Pope.”

You cut your eyes to Kelce as he walked by you.

“We don’t need a curfew. What we need is to search your damn house,” he sneered, turning his back to you as he strode away.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Sarah to exit the shop. You knew that Kelce wasn’t alone in his sentiment. It was only just the day before when your eyes had met Topper’s, the blonde’s gaze unreadable despite the clenching of his jaw. Topper was never the kind of guy to evoke intimidation, but that was before he thought you had something to do with the disappearance of his best friend.

When Rafe went missing, you were questioned. It was expected. After all, you weren’t just his girlfriend but also the girlfriend who everyone knew he would literally get crazy about. Your rocky off-and-on relationship was no secret, so naturally you were the first to be brought in. The police hadn’t been able to find anything though, not then and not for the past year, so any suspicions anyone might’ve had were probably long forgotten about.

Until now.

The only difference was that now not only did they think you killed Rafe, but also your best friends.

“They’re assholes. You know that,” Sarah told you as she drove you back to her place.

The Cameron household was where you’d been staying when you weren’t at home with JJ. Ever since that night, something in you felt wrong about accepting the Cameron’s hospitality and even setting foot into their house. That night was complicated, this much was true, but the fact remained that you were responsible for their pain. Ward would never be reunited with his son because of you.

Smiling in their faces and eating at their table left a sour feeling in your gut.

“…but I did kill Rafe,” you whispered.

Sarah glanced at you at that.

“We all did,” she finally said. “…and it wasn’t like that. He was choking you, he was…he was killing you. It was self-defense.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the cops will think rolling him up and burying him in the woods was self-defense,” you scoffed.

Sarah was parked in her yard, now, and she gripped your arm. Her expression was hard as she stared at you, lips pressed together.

“Stop that,” she bit out. “Rafe… Rafe wasn’t going to stop. We had no choice, and do I sometimes wish things had ended differently for him and for us? Yeah. Even the most estranged of siblings don’t actually want to kill each other, but what’s done is done.”

She looked between your eyes, and you swallowed, recalling that silent conversation with Cleo. You licked your lips, touching your forehead and swallowing down a sigh.

“What if it’s not done?” you wondered, almost inaudibly.

When you looked at Sarah again, there was a frown on her face.

“We definitely know of someone who’d want us dead,” you whispered, and you watched the color drain from Sarah’s face.

“…and he’s dead.”

“…but what if he’s not?” you choked out. “What if…? I mean, sure, there was blood and we hit him twice and we buried him, but what if-.”

“Stop,” Sarah breathed, resting her hands on the wheel. “Stop talking.”

“Sarah-.”

“I said stop!”

The blonde girl looked visibly distressed, eyes wide and lips trembling as she stared ahead.

“We killed him. He’s dead…and he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

Sarah sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than you. You could see how upsetting this conversation was for her, and again, you wished that night had gone differently. Getting your friends caught up in your relationship problems was your biggest regret, and no matter how many times they insisted they’d never take it back, it did nothing to ease your guilt.

Repeating Sarah’s words in your mind, you put thoughts of Rafe behind you.

You were having a horrifying case of déjà vu.

Around this time a year ago, you were also out in the middle of the woods at night, repeatedly stabbing at the dirt with a shovel. It had just rained then, and the ground had been wet—soft. You’d been less calm then, but also somehow less terrified than you were, now. A year ago, it had been four of you digging a hole.

Tonight, it was three.

Sticking together was the plan. Even if you didn’t collectively agree on it, there was the thought in all of your minds that someone was after you. Even JJ, who was in denial, didn’t turn down Sarah’s offer to sleep over at her place. Any other time where Rose and Ward would’ve vehemently opposed several Pogues taking up residence in their house, they were now a lot more welcoming.

Any doubt that you were being hunted like animals was nowhere to be found the night you discovered Cleo’s body.

The four of you were sleeping in Sarah’s room—JJ in the guest room right next door—when you heard the faintest thump. It seemed like forever ago, but in the night, it was oddly reminiscent of the day of Rose’s fall festivity or whatever—before John B. died. You recalled the noise you’d heard that day, your open window, and where you had written both of those things off, you now looked back in fear.

You’d sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. Noticing Cleo’s absence, you told yourself that she was getting something to drink or going to the bathroom. However, your effort to lay back down was halted when you heard it again—a faint thump from downstairs that made your hair stand on end for some reason. Glancing at your remaining best friends, you pushed yourself to your feet.

“Cleo?”

Your kept your voice low as you stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to unnecessarily wake the whole house. Only silence met you, and you frowned. The stillness of the house felt heavy, suffocating, and it unnerved you. It was just moments ago that it wasn’t so silent, and you walked back to Sarah’s room.

Glancing inside, there was still no sign of Cleo, and facing the fact that she wasn’t in the bathroom, you made your way downstairs.

The whole house was dark, and telling yourself that a light would be on if she was in the kitchen, you flipped the switch. An empty kitchen met you, as you expected, and your frown deepened. Walking back to the staircase, you looked up, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you climbed them. There were only so many places that she could be, and wondering if you’d missed her somehow, you checked all of the bathrooms. She wasn’t back in Sarah’s room either.

As you stood in the hallway, the complete darkness made you freeze.

It didn’t register, at first, and you stood there wracking your brain. Goosebumps completely covered your skin, now, and as you stared ahead, something in the back of your mind was screaming at you—sending off alarm bells. Something about this picture wasn’t right, and once it clicked, your heart sank to your gut.

There was no light coming from downstairs.

The kitchen light was now off.

Stumbling into Sarah’s room, you shook her and Kie awake.

“What, what?” the tan girl mumbled, Sarah’s huff coming from behind you.

“Something’s wrong,” you said, words tumbling over each other. “I can’t find Cleo.”

Both of them were wide awake, now, and Kie was frowning at you when Sarah turned her light on.

“What…?” she asked, disbelieving.

You tried to keep calm.

“I heard something, and I saw Cleo was gone, but she’s not in the bathroom, and she’s not downstairs,” you rushed out.

Sarah was still for half a second before she ran out of the room. While Kie went with her, you took it upon yourself to wake JJ, and once past his confusion, he was right on your heels as you made your way downstairs too. Kie was looking out the windows while Sarah searched each room.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” JJ said. “Don’t you guys have some alarm code or something? It’s not like she could’ve left without waking the whole house.”

JJ was right.

“So, what? You’re saying she’s still in the house? Hiding and playing some sick joke?” Sarah wondered, visibly stressed and scared. “That’s insane.”

You wondered if you should speak up about the kitchen light, about how someone had blatantly turned it off when you went upstairs. That car conversation with Sarah was on your mind, and your vision swam for a bit as you fought to keep upright. It might not be Cleo, but someone was definitely playing some sick joke.

“I’m going to wake my dad,” Sarah breathed. “This…this isn’t right.”

As she made to go upstairs, you slowly made your way to the back door. You stared out of the windows, scanning the yard for anything that might make sense of all this. The yard was empty, and you could hear JJ and Kie behind you as they talked and tried to make sense of what was going on. Too busy scanning the trees and what you could see of the neighbors, your gaze was focused much too high.

When you saw her, you wanted to be sick.

“Oh my God,” you choked out. “Oh my God, oh my God!”

You were scrambling to unlock the door before JJ or Kie could question you, and the house alarm was loud as you threw the door open. The grass was dewy and slippery, and you quite literally fell a few times before you reached her. You collapsed right next to her, and Kie’s scream was even louder than yours once she fully registered what she was seeing.

Your arms shook as you held Cleo’s broken body, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were too busy trying not to choke on your own sobs, you might’ve been screaming too. You could feel JJ’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to get you to let her go, but you felt possessed.

You couldn’t not hold her.

By now the rest of the household was outside too, and you could hear Rose on the phone, frantic and horrified. Mr. Cameron’s voice was in your ear as he too tried to get you to let her go. You couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you were hurting her any more—she was dead. Any hope for otherwise died the moment your wide eyes met her equally wide ones, dark gaze focused on the sky above. You felt like the least you could do was hold her—some kind of apology for not finding her sooner.

You were only convinced when the police showed up, Shoupe practically begging you to.

“We have to take her, now,” he said to you, his eyes meeting yours. “We have to do right by her and try and figure out what happened. You want that, don’t you?”

You remembered just staring at him, lips parted and chest heavy, before finally letting her go. JJ was quick to pull you beside him, his own hands trembling as he held you close. You knew that it was partly for you and partly for him. You completely leaned on him, feeling like you were moments away from fainting.

Especially so when you glanced up…your eyes landing on the open window of the second-floor bathroom.

You weren’t surprised the next day when you were face to face with Shoupe again and he said:

“She broke her neck.”

That wasn’t news to you. You found her…you held her, after all. You saw what she looked like, so his words were expected. His next, however, were not.

“Now, that could’ve happened when she fell…or it could’ve happened before.”

Your gaze lifted then, watching the older man heave a sigh and lean in closer across the table. His gaze was completely serious, lips pressed together and jaw clenched. He clasped his hands together as he regarded you.

“Now…I asked you this before when we pulled Pope out of that water…”

You swallowed.

“…and you gave me your answer then, and I believed you, but now I’m asking again.”

Tears kissed your eyes.

“…and depending on how you answer, I may not believe you this time.”

Dark blond hair and blue eyes filled your vision, a smooth and almost raspy baritone bouncing around between your ears. For just a moment, you weren’t in that room face to face with Shoupe. You were one year younger and rolling a lithe frame up in a bloody carpet. You and three other girls were carrying it to a familiar truck, determined to bury it where no one would ever find it. Even before Shoupe asked his question, that was all you could see.

…and yet, when he asked if you knew of anyone who’d want to hurt you and your friends, you still told him no.

That was two weeks ago, and now you were back in the woods…in a familiar spot…hoping to dig up a familiar face.

“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sarah spat, huffing as she stabbed at the dirt again.

“Look around!” Kie yelled, her voice bouncing off of the trees. “Three of our friends are dead! They’re dead, and you know what? When the cops asked if I knew of anyone who’d want to hurt them, I almost told them Rafe.”

You and Sarah paused at that, staring at her.

“Can you believe that? That sounds crazy, right because Rafe is dead, and..” she threw her arm up. “I would know!”

She was breathing hard, fighting to keep it together.

“…but Cleo was pushed. We all know that she didn’t fall. She was pushed, shoved, thrown, however you want to call it! Her neck was broken…and you all can say that it happened when she hit the ground, but I just don’t believe that.”

“Unless you’re saying one of us did it…” Sarah shrugged. “Someone would have to know the alarm code to not only turn it off, open the window, and toss her out…but also turn it back on as soon as they did it.”

“Sound like anyone we know?” Kie sarcastically wondered, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them.

There was a brief pause between you three as the horrifying possibility set in. Sarah was right. The requirements to pull something like that off fell to any of you, and you knew for a fact that none of you would ever, and so that was where Kie’s suspicions came in. Determined to face the truth one way or another, you continued to dig.

It felt so silly, attempting to dig up a man you’d most assuredly killed. You still had nightmares some nights about the feel of Rafe wrapping both hands around your neck, squeezing so tight that you were sure your neck would snap at any moment. Even when Sarah and Cleo had walked in, shocked and horrified at the sight before them, he hadn’t stopped.

He’d only been focused on killing you.

As you dug, you could remember their screams and the sound of them hitting him and trying to get him off. Nothing had worked, even when Kie came in, attempting to jump on his back. You didn’t know if it was the coke or alcohol that night that made him so determined to kill you regardless of witnesses. Either way, for your sake, you needed Rafe to be in this grave.

You could handle a lot of things, but you couldn’t handle Rafe still being out there.

“I don’t think we have the right spot,” Kie finally said after some time.

You yourself had briefly thought the same, but you remembered that night like the back of your hand. This was the right spot, and the longer you kept being greeted with dirt and more dirt, you could feel an internal panic setting in. Sarah stopped digging after Kie, but you kept going. You had to…because he had to be here.

“Y/N…”

“He’s here,” you breathed. “He has to be.”

Right now, there was only the sound of you frantically digging, and you hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until a sob bubbled up in your chest. You could hear Sarah calling your name again, but you paid her no mind, tossing the shovel aside and falling to your knees. You clawed at the dirt, looking for any sign of bone or clothing or even the damn rug!

“Y/N-,”

“No,” you screamed, throat hurting. “He has to be here, he has to be here.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, nails chipping and breaking as they only came in contact with dirt and sticks and rocks. Hitting your fist against the ground, you screamed again, this one dying into a fit of sobs. You felt Kie’s hands on your shoulders, and you struggled to breathe.

“This can’t be happening,” you heard Sarah breathe.

You pressed your face into your dirty hands, inconsolable as you were forced to face the truth.

“This doesn’t mean he’s alive,” Kie whispered. “Someone…someone else could know. I don’t know how, but it could be anyone else doing this, somebody who dug him up and is messing with us.”

“Or it could be Rafe!”

Your vision was blurry as you looked at her.

“It could be Rafe who wasn’t actually dead when we buried him. It could be Rafe killing my friends and torturing me and coming back to finish what he started!”

You pressed your forehead against the dirt, hunched over as the most awful wailing noise left you. You felt insane, like nothing in the world made sense, and you could hardly stand when Kie pulled you to your feet. If Rafe was still alive…your life as you knew it was over. You struggled to walk as Sarah put the shovels in the trunk, and when she closed it, she just stood there, hand pressed to the top with the other on her hip.

“So, what do we do? Do we go to the police and tell them that Rafe is doing this?”

“…and when they ask why?” Kie wondered, holding you upright. “What do we say? Y/N didn’t want to be with him anymore, so he ran off and came back a year later to kill her and her friends?”

You completely sank against the car, forehead pressed to the vehicle.

“…or better yet, what happens when we tell them we think Rafe is behind this only for his body to turn up? If everyone isn’t suspicious of us now—and they’re pretty fucking suspicious—they’ll definitely be then.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after some time, continuing when you felt their gazes on you. “I’m so sorry.”

“What-?”

“This is my fault,” you choked out, forcing yourself to straighten. “I should’ve left him the first time he hurt me. I should’ve…should’ve told someone, I should have called the police.”

“Y/N, this isn’t your fault,” Sarah argued.

“Yes, it is,” you cried, attempting to wipe your face and only succeeding in putting more dirt on it. “You hit him to get him off of me, but… I didn’t have to hit him again. I didn’t have to do that. He was already passing out, and I could’ve just called the cops and-.”

“…and deal with Rafe again when he was inevitably released?” Kie threw out. “Look, Sarah, your family is okay and all, but let’s face it. Rafe would not have stayed in jail long, if at all with Ward backing him up with his money.”

Neither of you argued against that, and your gaze found the ground.

“We need to get back,” Sarah said in a small voice. “It’s way past curfew, and if someone catches us out here, we’ll be even bigger suspects than we already are.”

Sarah was right, and when it became apparent that you needed help moving your feet, she guided you to the passenger side. Kie settled in the backseat, and all of you were quiet, minds no doubt occupied with the possibilities of what tonight meant. Either Rafe wasn’t dead…or someone knew what you did and was getting even on his behalf.

When Sarah turned the car on, the lights shined into the trees before you. You lifted your head, gaze landing in front of the car, and your lips parted. You blinked at the trees, eyes narrowing when Sarah turned on her brights, putting the car in reverse. There’d been a split moment when Sarah’s lights came on—and your gaze wasn’t lifted all the way—that you thought you saw something next to one of the trees.

It looked like a person, standing and watching, but they were gone so quickly that you knew you had to have imagined it. The discovery of Rafe’s empty grave was getting to you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It seemed farfetched that Rafe hadn’t actually been dead that night. Murder weapons and such aside, you’d buried him, and how likely was it that he’d woken up to claw his way out instead of simply suffocating and bleeding to death?

It made more sense that this was someone else’s doing, but even still…

Despite burying him yourself, you never felt like Rafe was truly gone.

With three of your friends dead, the remaining four of you were not only being watched like hawks, but also refused to barely leave each other’s sides. Despite the fact that the police still couldn’t determine if Cleo’s death was murder or an accident, the popular opinion seemed to be the former. Walking through Outer Banks as everyone’s main suspect made a place that used to feel like home unbearable.

Deep down though, some part of you felt you deserved it.

Yes, Rafe was abusive and horrible, but it wasn’t up to you to play God. It wasn’t your place to determine whether or not he deserved to live, deserved to see his family again or redeem himself or go on to be even worse. That wasn’t your call, and despite how much relief you felt when you buried Rafe that night, something in you wanted to be punished for what you’d done.

…but not like this.

You never wanted this to come back on your friends and their family. Looking in the faces of their parents and now knowing this was all directly because of you was heartbreaking. Even if it wasn’t Rafe stalking the streets of Outer Banks and picking your friends off one by one, it was clearly someone doing so for him in some weird way. This all came back to Rafe, you just knew it.

…and they were trying to mess with your head in the process.

What else would they get out of moving his remains?

Considering what happened at Sarah’s house, it came as no surprise that the next spot of choice was Kie’s. It wasn’t without difficulty, and you recalled the way both of her parents huffed and puffed as she fought to convince them. You didn’t disagree with their reasoning. After all, you didn’t need to be a genius to know they were wary of you on some level. Too many people around you had died and gone missing.

They just didn’t want the same for Kie…and you wished you’d listened.

“We could leave,” JJ said to you in one of the Carrera’s guest rooms, hand clasped with yours. “I didn’t really want to believe it before but…”

JJ heaved a sigh.

“Someone’s after us for some reason,” he relented. “…and since we have no idea who or even why… Why not just take off?”

He shrugged at you, and guilt ate at you for a whole other reason these days. After Cleo’s death—and the traumatic night in which you discovered Rafe’s grave was empty—you grappled with the thought of telling JJ the truth. He deserved to know why his friends were dead, and why he had a target on his back. You even started to one day.

…but then you thought about him knowing this was all your fault…and blaming you too. You didn’t think you had the stomach or the strength to look him in the face and tell him that your actions that night came back on half of your friends. You didn’t want to face his reaction, and so you swallowed it down.

“I would if I could,” you told him. “…but aside from just how fucking guilty that would make me and us look…my parents are here. Even if they weren’t and we left, I don’t think that would make this stop. Sarah’s here, Kie is here, and whoever is doing this clearly wants all of our heads. They’re not going to give up just because some of us leave.”

You couldn’t stomach the thought of just taking off and leaving Kie and Sarah to fend for themselves. JJ nodded at that, understanding, and you closed your eyes when he reached for your face. You placed your own hand over his, and something clenched deep in your chest. It was so unfair that the moment you and JJ finally decided to stop being cowards, someone put a bounty on your heads.

Even if you made it out of this alive, how could you ever look back on the beginning of your relationship with anything other than grief and trauma? The two of you got together because of John B.’s death and any attempt to try and heal and make something good of this was ruined by the subsequent deaths of Pope and Cleo.

“Do you think this has something to do with Rafe?”

JJ’s question gave you pause, and you pulled back, staring at him with a frown. His expression was entirely serious, telling you that you had not in fact imagined his words. When you blinked at him, you watched him run his hand through his blond locks, the fair hair still damp from his shower.

“I know you killed him,” he confessed.

Your lips parted in shock, and you fought to make sense of what was happening. Disbelieving, you pushed yourself to your feet, looking down at your boyfriend. His gaze was soft, and you watched him exhale, slowly reaching for you.

“Wha…? What do you mean you know? What are-?”

“I overheard you guys talking about it…what…? Maybe three months after it happened?”

You looked away, slowly shaking your head. When you looked at him, there was no malice or disgust in his gaze, and you felt confused.

“I never said anything because I figured you wouldn’t like anyone else knowing,” he whispered.

JJ didn’t look bothered at all, and for some reason that threw you for a loop. Once his hand was back in yours, he tugged you until you sat down with him again. He took your moment of shock to lean in and kiss you—slow and gentle, and his thumb brushed your skin as he pulled away.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone,” you wondered, more of a statement, voicing your thoughts and confirming his assumption.

“…because Rafe was horrible to you, and not in that generic asshole boyfriend way, but…really horrible,” he told you. “The way he talked to you and treated you in public was disguising to witness, so it wasn’t hard to guess how much worse he was behind closed doors.”

You felt yourself deflating, hating that JJ had to come to grips with that terrifying truth.

“You don’t know how bad I hated him for treating you like that, how much I wanted to beg you to leave him, but you wouldn’t,” he spat, anger in his voice as he thought about the past. “You wouldn’t even come to any of us, and I just thought it wasn’t my place.”

You hadn’t realized how much of your tumultuous relationship with Rafe had been bleeding into other parts of your life almost since the beginning.

“I started to lose my mind over it, you know…just wondering if I was bad for not telling or bad for thinking about telling, but…”

He let out a humorless chuckle, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Plenty of times I thought about killing Rafe myself, so why would I hate you for having the balls to do what I could only fantasize about?”

You held JJ’s gaze, feeling shocked but also oh so light. You felt relieved that JJ knew, and you’d no longer have to carry around this guilt, but at the same time… You hated that JJ had been carrying this around for months—almost a year. Unlike you and the girls, JJ didn’t have anyone to talk to about this, forced to carry the burden of your secret alone…and you hated that. You hated yourself for that.

Your eyes burned with tears, and you just pressed your lips to his when a blood-curdling scream made you wince.

You and JJ looked at each other for half a second before he hurried out of the room with you right behind him. The screams didn’t stop, echoing throughout the house and mixing in with harsh sobs. There was a knot twisting in your gut, a feeling of dread washing over you like a cold shower. You and JJ took the stairs almost two at a time, and when you both made it to the living room, you paused in your tracks.

Kie had her hands over her mouth, but it was useless—she couldn’t stop screaming and crying. Sarah stood by the couch, frozen in shock, and you didn’t miss what her wide and stricken eyes were focused on. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera were sitting on the couch, facing the blasting TV as they had been for God knows how long. However, something about their posture was off, and when you slowly brushed by JJ to join Sarah…you realized why.

Blood covered the entire front of them both, eyes open and unseeing, mouths open in mid-scream.

Their throats were slit.

Before the horror of what this meant could even settle in, the power in the house went out, bathing you in darkness. The lights from the neighbors and the street were not enough, and you heard Sarah telling Kie to get up. JJ’s hand was on your arm as he pulled you along too, all four of you heading for the door.

Sarah only just opened it when you heard her let out a choked gasp.

She was still, and you worriedly eyed her.

“Sarah?” JJ called her name. “Sarah, what’s…?”

He trailed off, his words dying in the air as Sarah stumbled back. She fell against Kie, and the other girl fought to catch her as the blonde reached up towards her chest. With what little light you had, your eyes focused on what she was gesturing to. Your entire vision swayed once you saw the knife protruding from it.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, and JJ yanked you back away from the door.

You in turn yanked Kie who was forced to let Sarah go. The sound of her body dropping made you wince. Unable to stay with her, the three of you now headed towards the back door. Behind you, you could hear the front door slamming shut, and the sound of it had bile rising in your throat.

The house was still dark, and besides your own heavy breathing, you heard the sound of footsteps coming from the living room. You were the first to make it to the door, hand on the knob when you heard the last thing you ever expected for some reason. The glass in front of you shattered, but your ears were ringing from the gunshot more than anything.

“Fuck,” you heard JJ curse, and you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you to the side.

You didn’t realize why until you looked back.

Kie was in a heap at the foot of the door, her blood decorating the remaining glass in the window and the floor too. She was completely still, and the knowledge that two more of your friends were dead within just minutes of each other had you ready to faint. Despite that, with JJ’s help, you were able to keep your feet moving.

He pulled you into the hallway that connected to the kitchen, and on the other side of the wall, you could hear the slow and heavy footsteps. When the crunch of glass was heard, JJ pulled you further along towards the kitchen—towards the front of the house. You were shaking as you slid along the wall, and when the footsteps stopped, so did JJ.

You both were completely still as you waited and listened. Both of your phones were upstairs in the guest room, but you recalled Sarah reaching for hers when she opened the door. It had to still be near her, provided that whoever was in the house hadn’t taken it. JJ seemed to have the same idea as you, because he slowly moved through the kitchen and towards the front door.

A gunshot stopped his efforts.

“Go, go,” JJ hissed, pushing you away from him so harshly that you stumbled and fell back.

You were half in the kitchen half in the hallway when a figure approached the blond who was now also on the floor, clutching his side. You frantically crawled back, vision blurring from your tears just as they stood over him. Your back was pressed to the wall, staring at the one before you with quiet sobs when you heard it.

JJ’s gasps were loud and pained as he was attacked. One, two…seventeen, you counted. You thought to yourself how angry and evil someone has to be to stab someone else seventeen times. You kept your hand pressed to your mouth the entire time, fighting the urge to be sick. When you could no longer hear JJ, you squeezed your eyes shut.

A defeated feeling washed over you, and it was the feeling of being utterly alone.

You could hear those terrifying footsteps again, and when it sounded like they were coming near you from the other side, you sprinted for the door.

Refusing to look at the bodies of your friends, you fought to run across the street. The neighbor’s lights were on, and your legs burned as you pushed yourself as fast as you could. You refused to look back—too scared to—and you practically collapsed at their door as you banged on it. Some of Kie’s blood was on you, and it marred the door as you repeatedly hit it like a woman possessed.

“Open the door, please, please,” you screamed, looking over your shoulder.

You couldn’t see anyone, but you weren’t fooled. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing on this stranger’s porch. You were beating their door so hard that your fists were beginning to ache, and your throat scratched from your screams—strained and raw. When the door finally swung open, you quite literally fell inside.

“What in the world-? Oh my goodness,” a small voice said from over you.

Small and brittle hands helped you to your feet, and you felt bad at almost knocking her over in your efforts to make sure no one was behind you. You slammed the door shut and locked it, chest heaving and feeling much too tight. You were sure that you were almost on the verge of a heart attack. You had to be.

“Sweetheart,” the old lady called. “Call the police!”

She took your hands, guiding you to the kitchen where she grabbed a rag.

“He killed them,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. “My friends are dead.”

The words didn’t even sound real to you, like some nightmare you’d conjured up, but they were real. Your friends had been picked off one by one for weeks before the rest were finally taken from you in one night. You were alone, and that fact made you cry harder.

“The phone’s not working,” you heard another aged voice say.

You froze at that, looking up just as the woman wobbled to the kitchen entrance.

“What?” you breathed.

“What do you mean it’s not working?” she tutted, and you were quick to follow behind her.

She met up with a man who you assumed was her husband in the hallway, and he did a double take at the sight of you.

“Good lord,” he breathed. “What happened?”

“Never mind that,” she dismissed him, making her way past him. “My granddaughter bought me one of those smart phones, but I hardly ever use the thing. We’ll find that and then we’ll call the police, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to let her out of your sight, terrified of being alone, but the elderly man reminded you of his presence. He guided you back into the kitchen with a strained but kind smile. You could tell that your presence worried him. You were in his house in the middle of the night covered in blood, after all.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble when he handed you the damp rag.

The feel of Kie’s blood on you was both comforting and horrifying. Your friend wasn’t with you, but this small part of her was, but at the same time, it only reminded you of her gruesome and tragic death. The woman came back through the hallway, joining her husband in the living room, and you heard her mumbling something about hoping the cops would come quick when there was a knock on the door.

The sound of it made your stomach drop, and you stood in the kitchen, rag tight in your hand. What were the chances they’d be getting some friendly visit at this time of night? Right after all your friends were brutally murdered, and you were forced to seek refuge at this very house?

You’d only taken one step forward when you heard the door open, followed by a startled gasp. It happened quick, too quick for you to even process, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the woman’s husband yelping too, a loud thud reaching your ears. Before today, you didn’t know what it sounded like to stab someone or cut their throat. You stumbled back, eyes wide and heart so loud in your ears that it was all you could hear for a moment.

You felt so cold, and you had the shivers to prove it, and slowly but surely…you reached for the knife in the sink.

The house was so quiet, and you didn’t hear a single breath or footstep. Taking a hesitant step forward, you held the knife out in front of you, briefly squeezing your eyes shut. Stepping into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see the bodies of the poor couple who’d just tried to help you. Blood stretched from beneath them like a stream. You pressed your free hand to your mouth, swallowing down a sob.

You were surprised, however, to see an empty living room.

Your brain was completely empty, feeling like you were short-circuiting. You were being toyed with, that much was obvious, and your lips trembled as you slowly spun, fighting to see any sign of your tormentor. Slowly kneeling, you looked for the woman’s cellphone, and you had to swallow down a curse when you realized it was gone.

You stood in the living room, feeling like you were losing your mind with no idea of what to do next. You could run back across the street to Kie’s where you knew a phone was…or you could try another neighbor. A last resort of an option flitted through your mind, anger briefly filling you as you considered simply killing the person who did this.

The front porch creaked, and your gaze zeroed in on the door.

Backing up, you moved further into the house and further away from the door. You glanced over your shoulder, arm grazing the wall as you hid in the hallway. You could hear the door opening just as you disappeared around the corner, and as you slowly and quietly moved about the back of the house, you wanted to cry with the realization that they had no back door.

The house was so modest and quaint that you hadn’t even considered that possibility.

Tears of frustration and fear skipped down your face just as the upbeat tune of a whistle reached your ears. You didn’t know why, but something about it made you so angry. You were being played with, like a damn mouse in the grasp of some cat. How this person could snuff out life like it was nothing and be so giddy about it, you didn’t know. It disgusted you.

…and so the knife was tight in your hand as you stomped back towards the living room.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to die tonight, and you’d rather it be fighting and on your terms. The lifeless faces of your friends were all that plagued your thoughts, one after the other being taken from you so easily. As if they were nothing. You thought you were prepared for the person you’d grown to hate most in the world.

…but you weren’t prepared for the sight of Barry sprawled along the couch without a care in the world.

You actually came up short, stopping in your tracks in both shock and disbelief. You felt your lips part, and your hold on the knife wasn’t so firm, now, almost dropping it. A myriad of emotions hit you at once, none of them good, but the loudest and most prominent was…confusion.

You barely knew Barry, really only in passing. The only time you ever saw him was when you happened to be in Rafe’s truck when he needed to make some exchange, the dark-haired man always giving you a mockingly prissy wave. You never talked to him outside of pleasantries, and quite frankly you hated being around him. Somehow, he always managed to bring out the worst in Rafe, egging on any of Rafe’s disgusting behaviors.

He never called you by your name, it was always—

“Mrs. Country Club,” he drawled, that familiar cheeky half grin on his lips.

The gold in his mouth winked at you as you just stood there, and your stomach turned.

“Barry?” you breathed, and he simply raised his hands as if to say ‘the one and only’. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He raised his brows at that, pursing his lips together to fight off a smirk. You looked around, trying to make sense of this before taking a shaky breath.

“Why?” you spat, gaze meeting his unreadable one. “I don’t understand…”

Your words died in your throat, getting choked up.

“Why?”

He played with his hair, a look of confusion on his face.

“Why what…?”

“You’re not funny,” you sneered. “You’re not. Why? Why? Why?”

You screamed the last one, face wet with tears, and all the while he simply…smirked at you.

“How about this… I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” he proposed, gesturing between you. “Did you feel bad when you dumped your boyfriend in the woods?”

His question made so much click, and you sighed, eyes briefly closing.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Somehow, someway, Topper and Kelce were like brothers to Rafe despite their differences, but Barry? You always hated how your ex-boyfriend managed to find a camaraderie in the dangerous drug dealer, both of them cut from the same psycho cloth. Only Barry could never go to the lengths Rafe did. At least, that was what you always thought…

The laugh that left you seemed to surprise both of you, and he blinked, brows raising again as he just…looked at you.

“That’s what this is about?” you breathed, voice shaking from anger and grief and disgust. “Revenge because I killed your bestie?”

Your tone was mocking, and all the while, Barry just stared at you.

“I guess psycho little rich boys must be hard to come by,” you spat. “Forgive me. Had I known you were going to take it so hard, I would’ve tried to make it look like some tragic accident instead.”

Again, he said nothing at all, and you recalled he’d asked you a question.

“…but to answer your question, no. I didn’t.”

The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at that, smirk growing.

“Rafe treated me like his property, like he could do whatever he wanted to me…and best believe…he took full advantage,” you forced out. “That night it was him or me…and I chose me.”

The other man jutted his lip out a bit, nodding in a way that suggested he was almost impressed. You looked at the bodies of the poor couple who’d gotten caught up in your shit, and you wiped your face, more tears spilling over. You adjusted the knife in your hand, staring him down.

“So, are you going to try and kill me or what?”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what this whole thing has been about, right?” you threw your arms up. “Tormenting me, driving me crazy, taking my friends from me and saving me for last so I knew what was coming, right?”

His silence actually angered you, now, and you roughly exhaled through your nose.

“What are you waiting for?” you brokenly questioned, startled by the sound of his chuckle.

It was genuine.

“I am offended,” he laughed, hands grazing his chest as he sat up straight. “Do I seem like a bloodthirsty murderer to you? Come on, now, Mrs. Country Club. You know that’s not my style.”

His words confused you.

“Truthfully,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his lips. “I’m just here for the show.”

You were so startled by the tight grip on your wrist that you dropped the knife, your lifeline clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Another knife—a bigger one—was at your throat, and you sharply inhaled at the feel of cool metal to your skin. In your attempt to get away from the blade, you pressed yourself further into the chest at your back. His hand on your wrist briefly tightened, so bad that you cried out in pain, but the tears that poured over had nothing to do with that.

You heard his deep breaths, and it wasn’t because his lips were at your ear, but because you’d stopped breathing. You couldn’t feel your heart, an icy emptiness in your chest where it was supposed to be, and the noise that finally left your lips was a cross between a gasp and a cry. The knife at your throat pressed harder into your skin, feeling a slight sting there, but it was nothing in comparison to the feel of his face pressing into the area where your neck and shoulder met.

He deeply inhaled, and a shudder passed through you.

“Word of advice…”

You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice, hoping for anything other than what you accepted as the truth.

“…if you’re going to bury someone,” his lips were at your ear again, and his tone was chilling. “Make sure they’re actually dead.”

A sob finally escaped, and your tearful eyes rested on the ceiling.

“Unlike you, I don’t make that mistake.”

Revulsion filled you, and you were certain that now you really were going to be sick.

“When I set out to kill someone, I get the job done,” he purred, a kiss to your neck. “…but you know that better than anyone, baby.”

You couldn’t even describe the feeling of being in Rafe’s arms again. There was too much going on within you to pinpoint one feeling, but above all else, you knew that you felt fear. Not once had you ever been able to actually heal from Rafe’s abuse. He was the thing you feared most in the world…and then you killed him.

That wasn’t healing.

That was just getting rid of the problem, but the fear and inferiority complex and damage still remained. You were happier with him gone, and you’d mistakenly took that for healing, but now that he was back… Now that Rafe was alive and well and a thousand times worse than you knew him to be, all of that came back, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”

It was so hard to breathe, and you couldn’t answer Rafe’s question even if you wanted to.

“Nothing to say about how you hit me upside the head and buried me in the woods like a fucking dog?”

He shook you as he said this, and you cried out. Evidently, that made him angrier, and you soon found yourself thrown to the floor. Your legs landed in blood, and your attempt to crawl away was halted by Rafe’s hand in your hair. He yanked you back until you were on your knees, and when you reached up, his other hand had the knife at your throat.

“Oh, wait, that’s right. What was it you said? It came down to you…or me…?” he chuckled, purposefully nicking your neck. “…and you chose you…right?”

He shoved you again, and you struggled to get to the wall, leaning against it and finally facing him.

It actually hurt you to see that he was just as beautiful as the day you buried him. Of course, he was sober, now, but what did that count for when he also had half a dozen literal bodies under his belt now? Blood stained his shirt, so much of it, and you wondered how much of it belonged to your friends. Your lips trembled as he pushed his hair out of his face, his other hand still holding the bloody knife.

“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he suddenly said although he didn’t sound sorry, at all.

Your face crumbled, and he chuckled.

“It wasn’t my intention for him to go like that, but…” he wiped blood off of his forehead. “I couldn’t quite get the image of him on top of you out of my head.”

Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in shock as you recalled the day you told yourself you were imagining things.

“Truthfully, Sarah was supposed to be last,” he casually said, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. “My own fucking sister.”

He scoffed, and something passed through his gaze that told you he was genuinely hurt about Sarah’s so-called betrayal. His blue eyes rested on you, and you were suddenly thinking about the last time you stared into them…when he had his hands around your throat, choking the life out of you. Rafe seemed to be thinking about that night too, and you watched his gaze briefly fall to the floor, sniffing.

“I gotta admit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He looked into your eyes again, and you realized that you hadn’t stopped crying once since he revealed himself to you. Your gaze briefly landed on Barry who was still on the couch, watching the whole ordeal like this was some tv show instead of real fucking life.

“Rafe…” you choked out.

“…but I can promise you,” the blond sneered, pointing the knife at you. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

You closed your eyes, fresh tears falling, and you struggled to swallow.

“Just get it over with already,” you breathed, so tired and…defeated. “Just kill me.”

When you opened your eyes, Rafe looked genuinely amused at the words that left your mouth. You weren’t surprised when he chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder at Barry, still laughing.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Your confusion must have been evident because he laughed again. Rafe stepped towards you until your eyes were level with his crotch, and you hated the way he looked down at you, like you were this helpless and hapless thing that he was just going to have so much fun with. When he slowly knelt before you, you flinched as he lifted his hand, the end of the knife lightly grazing your cheek before it trailed down your neck. Rafe’s blue gaze followed the descent, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”

His almost inaudible words were loud and clear to you though, and you felt like you’d been shot.

“I won’t lie,” he said, staring at your collarbone. “I thought about. It was the first thing on my mind when Barry pulled me out of that grave you put me in.”

You swallowed when his gaze snapped to yours.

“I wanted to gut you like those fish my dad are always reeling in,” he spat. “I wanted to cut you open.”

You shook your head, letting it fall as you cried.

“…but this seemed soo much better,” he breathed, voice shaky, and you knew it wasn’t from fear nor anger.

Rafe was excited.

“…because you know what’s so much better than murdering all of your friends and forcing you to live with the fact that their deaths are on your hands? Hmm?”

He reached up, lightly grazing your lips with his fingers.

“Do you know what’s better than that?”

His hand tightened around your chin, and knowing him like the back of your hand, you knew he actually wanted an answer.

“No,” you muttered.

Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss as he whispered his response.

“Having you all to myself.”

You didn’t have time to resist before Rafe was yanking you up by your hair, quite literally dragging you through this stranger’s house. Your feet tripped over one another, and several times you almost fell. Rafe finally wrapped an arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold as he forced you down the hall. The moment you tried to scream, his hand was there, forcing it down, and when he tossed you into the bedroom, your forehead hit the leg of the bed.

You heard him whistle.

“The old geezers have taste,” he praised. “…bet this is where that granddaughter of theirs sleeps when she comes to visit.”

You were a sobbing mess, just barely pushing yourself to your knees when Rafe tackled you onto your back. Not unfamiliar with this predicament, you fought against him, hitting him and scratching at his face. Any resistance was met with a genuine laugh, and when Rafe had both of your wrists pinned down beside your head, he tilted his own at you.

“You already killed me, baby,” he breathed. “What more could you do to me?”

The scream you let out was filled with equal pain and frustration, kicking out when he sank his teeth into your chest. It was done with the full intent to hurt, and he succeeded, pain blooming beneath your skin as he tore at your shirt.

Becoming reacquainted with his knife, you tried to scoot back as he sliced through your pants with it, pulling the jeans off of you in tatters. Fearful of the weapon in his hand, you tried to push at his arm, but when his free hand wrapped around your throat, effectively pinning you down, the knife found its way to your stomach.

You breath hitched as you froze.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rafe hummed. “I might just…slip.”

You yelped at the sharp feeling along your stomach, and the burn you felt told you there was a cut there. He didn’t let go of the knife as he undressed himself with his other hand, and when he reached for your bra, the blade was pressed to your throat the entire time. You couldn’t stop shaking even if you wanted to, and Rafe made a show of taking his time as he settled between your legs.

“I hope you know how much planning went into this…”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“…and I hope you know that this was all that kept me going.”

When he pushed into you, you gasped in both pain and shock. You hadn’t been with Rafe—with anyone—in a year, and you struggled to adjust. Fresh tears escaped, and when Rafe’s bloody hand gripped your jaw, he turned your head to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle, nothing at all like the rough thrusts he started to give you.

Your back rubbed against the floor as he fucked you, and your crying was drowned out by the sound of his deep moans. Rafe sounded like he was in heaven while you felt like you were in hell. The feel of his cock pushing into you made your mind shrivel with disgust, but your body responded exactly how he wanted.

“I missed you,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

You sobbed louder, hating the way his thrusts became smoother, now. Your body greedily sucked him in with every push of his hips, and as his hands ran over you, all you could think about were these same hands killing your friends. These same hands that had done so much damage to your life even before that fateful night last year.

With a tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, Rafe forced your head back, and he took his time grazing his teeth along your skin. You could still feel the cool blade of the knife on your skin whenever he moved his other hand. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed like every nightmare you’d had about Rafe had come true…only multiplied by one hundred.

He pressed a hand into your stomach, holding himself up that way while the other hand pressed the knife to your throat. A fresh bout of sobs escaped, and you swore that Rafe actually smiled. You were proven right when he laughed, a deep and raspy chuckle that made your hair stand on end.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “…being so weak and at the mercy of someone else?”

It was sick how Rafe didn’t seem to realize that you knew this feeling long before today. Countless days filled with fear and yelling and manhandling plagued your mind, and the knowledge that Rafe had no intention of ending your suffering was enough to make you go numb.

As if sensing that, Rafe pressed the blade into your throat.

Your gasped turned into cries as you reached up.

“Uh uh,” he panted. “None of that. You are going to lie here…and you’re going to think about what you did to me.”

You gripped his wrist, eyes pleading. Rafe leaned in, nose pressed to yours with a knife pressed to your throat and a hand pressed to your stomach.

“You’re going to lie here, and take my cock, and thank God that I decided to spare your life.”

A particular hard thrust made you gasp.

“Every day, for as long as you live, I want you to think about your friends and remember that they are dead because of you…”

You closed your eyes, and Rafe dug the knife into your throat.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he breathed, continuing when you obeyed. “They are dead because you failed to kill me, and every time I come inside of you, you should take it with nothing less than gratitude.”

He kissed you then, roughly and lacking of any kind of love. It was purely done for show, to exert his power over you and remind you that you belonged to him. You tried to turn your head, and in doing so, you caught sight of Barry leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. The sight made you turn your head away, sobbing beneath Rafe.

“…because never forget that I wanted to cut you open,” he whispered in your ear, grinding his hips against yours and forcing a choked moan from your lips. “…but where is the fun in killing you when this is so much better.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #kinktober #halloween #halloween fic

2K notes · View notes

rthko · 2 years

Text

This was meant as a funny roast, but in order to write a good roast it has to be in good faith and you have to know what you’re talking about. I didn’t. I’ve barely listened to Taylor Swift beyond what’s on the radio, so shoutout to anyone giving me recommendations in the notes. Some of her music resonates with me after all. In my post I was playing up the “shallow hedonistic gay guy” thing in a tongue in cheek way, kind of like how in Blank Space Taylor pokes fun at the “crazy ex girlfriend” treatment she gets. I did not mean to play into misogynistic tropes, but once a post is out in the world the poster’s intentions no longer matter. I did not know key facts about Taylor’s personal and professional life that made the “victim” line inappropriate. I am genuinely sorry, and disturbed moreso by the negative comments AGREEING with me than the ones criticizing me.

I have received good faith criticism about this post, and I’m not going to tone police anyone who was offended by it. I draw the line, however, at comments insisting I and all other gay men are sex obsessed freaks or “don’t deserve rights.” Please for the love of god be normal. As I suppose Taylor would say, to me, to you, and to everyone involved in this shitshow, “you need to calm down.” Social media brings out the worst in us, and outrage drives engagement more than words of encouragement and support. If Taylor’s music doesn’t resonate with me, then it would be better for me to lift up my favorite artists than to try to tear her down. It’s not a competition. I want us all to win, and to keep finding joy in the music we like. So, stream Midnights. Or don’t. Or, better yet, we could all log off and try to be our best selves.

10K notes · View notes

scarletlizzard · 3 months

Text

Part 1: Get Help

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: being stalked, paranoia, therapy, mentions of sex

Masterlist

Fall 2018

It was the same thing every day.

You wake up, make breakfast, and go for a run. You go to work, a normal 9-5 job downtown. After work, you would wind down by making dinner and sometimes taking a bath with a glass of wine. You go to bed around the same time every night, letting the sounds of I Love Lucy lull you to sleep.

Your routine was all but normal, though. You had a shadow.

Your daily jog was filled with turning your head, constantly aware of a presence behind you, one that you could never see. You thought it was over until one night when you were making dinner, you happened to look out the window and saw a person standing across the street. The glass of wine you were holding dropped from your hand onto the floor beneath your feet. You step back onto the glass and wince, tearing your eyes from the shapeless figure.

When you look up again, they've disappeared.

This happened for weeks until you finally gave in and told your friend one night over a bottle of wine.

"Look, this is them. They're back," you say, handing the phone to Natasha. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the blurry picture on the screen. Practically a black dot next to the bus stop a few houses down from yours.

"But why would they wait so long? It's been over a year, and.." she squints, staring at the picture. "That kind of just looks like a blob.." the woman says and sips her wine, a concerned look on her face at your frantic state.

"It's not. It's them! I-I swear I'm being followed, being watched... every where I go, it's like, I can feel them. The police won't do anything about it." You move your shaking hand away from her to gulp down the rest of your wine.

"Look, Y/N.." Natasha sighs and sets down her glass, turning her body to face yours. "I know you've been through a lot, everything that.. happened last summer. I think - maybe you should.. get some help." She tries to soften the blow of calling you crazy by resting a hand on your thigh. You only look to her with betrayed eyes.

"I'm not crazy," you speak calmly, your tone stern, but the crack in your voice only solidifies Natashas' point.

"I don't think you are, Y/N. Here.." She grabs her purse, pulling out a business card from it casually, as if she just happened to have it. You knew her better than that. "This is my friend. She's an amazing psychiatrist. Just talk to her, give it a chance."

You snatch the card away from her hands, not making eye contact with her. Natasha sighs again and stands, watching your leg bounce harder. She leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.." She trails off, unsure if you'd even reply.

"Love you." You mumble, pouring yourself another glass.

After she leaves, you stare at the business card in your hand, eyes settled on the name in bold lettering. You crumple the card, ball it up in your hand, and throw it across the room. It bounces off the wall with a small 'thunk'. Then you're left sitting, recalling the events of last summer.

***

Summer 2017

It was an exceptionally hot night. The air conditioner had been broke all day, leaving you sweating and fanning yourself with a magazine. Also leaving you with no choice but to leave the windows open, letting a cooler breeze flow through your quiet house.

You shot a quick text to Natasha- See you tomorrow, meet at the coffee shop near yours.

With a sigh, you rest your head on the back of the couch, listening to the voices on the TV. You get a strange feeling suddenly, your whole body covered in goosebumps, the small hairs on your arms standing straight up. You slowly open your eyes, staring straight ahead at the characters running around the screen.

"Get a grip, Y/N.." You mumble to yourself, patting your cheeks as if to wake yourself up. Maybe you just needed some sleep. Your anxiety seemed to be kicking up again. Your hands reach for the remote on the table in front of you, and you press the power button, turning the TV off.

It's then you see, in the black screen, reflecting an image not only of you but a person standing directly behind you.

***

Current Fall 2018

No, I'm NOT doing this right now.

You think to yourself, swallowing down your third glass of wine for the night. Instead, you get up to double -no, triple- check all of the locks in your house. The windows to the backyard, locked. The sliding glass backdoor, locked. The windows to the front of the house, locked. The front door, locked. The side door leading to the garage, locked. Windows in any bedrooms, locked. Your bedroom door and window, locked.

It was exhausting, but it was a routine you had been following for the past year. It kept you safe. You turn on I Love Lucy, drifting off into another nightmare with your mysterious shadow.

The morning after, you awake to your alarm and slap your hand on your loud phone to slide it off. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The morning sun shines brightly in the room, the light warm on your skin.

I am NOT crazy...

You repeat to yourself over and over, a mantra easily spoken and believed in your mind. Breakfast was made and eaten, running shoes tied to your feet, laces double knotted, ID and cash in case of emergencies, and headphones settle snug in your ears. The first mile was fine, humming along to your music, and enjoying the cold fall. It was when you were heading back towards your house that you began to have that unsettling feeling.

Your panicked eyes look around as you jog, your head constantly turning from side to side as you look for your shadow. You find yourself reaching into your pocket, letting your hand grab onto the pepper spray you had brought with you. Only a little ways to go. It's fine.

Your pace sped up, but your shadow was creeping up closer to you. Your heart was racing. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. With your thumb gripping the spray, you suddenly turn around, spraying the shadow behind you.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!" A man screams, falling to his knees in front of you. Your heart was beating out of your chest at the sight of him, rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain. But on the sidewalk in front of him you see your emergency clip that held your cash and ID.

"Jason! Oh my god, what did you do to him?" A woman comes running up to his side, sliding her arm around him. "Are you crazy? You dropped this. He was trying to give it back to you!" She screams at you, throwing the clip in your direction. Dollar bills fly to the ground, and you back up.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know, I thought he was - I didn't know.." Your voice trails off as you shake your head, hands shaking. "I didn't know.." You repeat it 4 times.

"Y/N, you're lucky he didn't press charges, I can't believe you actually pepper sprayed him.." Natashas voice sounded from the phone in your hand as you recall the events from the morning.

"I know, I can't believe I did either. I feel so fucking bad about it.." you hold your head in your hand, guilt filling your gut.

"It happened. There's nothing you can do about it now. He'll be fine.. people get pepper sprayed all the time," she tries to joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

You sit up and sigh into the phone, looking around the room. The TV playing, the dusty art supplies sitting on a desk in the corner. Your eyes find and focus on the crumpled business card on the floor by the wall. As you stand, your feet carry you over, picking it up.

"I'll talk to you later, Nat," you say, letting her say goodbye before you hang up. Your hands straighten out the card, and you once again read the name in bold lettering.

The clock on the wall read 5:28 as you sat, one day after work, on a chair in the hallway near the front door. You look around the hallway that leads to a massive house. It seemed the front was used for her practice, a room on either side of the hallway. One you assumed an office, the other a room to meet with patients. The clock ticked to 5:29, and your leg began to bounce.

The door on the wall across from you opens, revealing a brown headed woman with a warm smile on her face. She was taller, a creme colored blouse and brown pants settled on her legs. Her familiar green eyes find yours, and you both let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"Y/N.." Wanda says and holds out her hand to you, watching as you stand in front of her.

Your hand reaches for hers, "Wanda.." Her hand is warm and soft in yours. You know you linger too long in her grip. She leads you into room number two, a medium-sized room with one big, comfortable looking chair and an even more comfortable looking couch. Behind her comfy chair was an extravagant looking fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and as you walked inside, your fingers trail the spines of the books that sat on them. It felt comfortable and safe. The sun was beginning to set, and an orange glow filled the room. Wanda sits in a chair, a notepad, and pen in her lap. You follow suit, sitting across from her on the couch.

"So, are you sure you want to do this? I'd be more than happy to recommend you to some other, highly recommended, co-workers of mine?" Wanda says with a smile, and you can't help but blush. She just had that effect on you.

"As long as you're okay with it, I am. I trust you, and right now, I really need that.." You mumble the last part, sitting back into the couch. Wanda nods, understanding of you.

One of the last times you saw Wanda she was in your bed, giving you what still stands today, the best orgasms of your life. Natasha had thrown a Christmas party where you met. You and Wanda came alone. You both had a lot to drink, and one thing led to another. You spent the night talking and laughing, getting to know each other as you came on her fingers. After that, you saw her from time to time, over a couple of months. She let you eat her out on your couch and fucked you against the counter in your kitchen. It was the best sex you'll probably ever have. You felt more alive with her than you had in years.

But then you had to leave town for work, and by the time you came back, the two of you had lost touch. Then, a few months after, during the summer, when your shadow appeared, you cut practically everyone out of your life.

"Well then, let's get started," Wanda interrupts your train of thoughts with a click of her pen, crossing her legs. "I reviewed the file you sent over from your stay at the Bay Point Medical Center. Do you want to talk about that?" She asks, her voice as smooth as honey.

You let out a shaky sigh, playing with the zipper of the bag you held in your lap. "I've always been.. anxious, since I was a kid. Always had these uh, routines. Tie my shoes until they felt right, flick the lights 4 times before bed."

"Were you ever diagnosed or tested as a kid?"

"No, my mom didn't believe in that sort of thing."

"So you were first diagnosed with OCD and Bipolar Disorder at Bay Point." Wanda makes a note. You tap your leg 4 times.

"Yes."

"So what led you to that moment, to that night?" Her voice is so inviting. You would tell her just about anything at this point.

"I'm sure it says in the file.." You clear your throat, suddenly being unable to look her in the eyes.

"There is a version, but I'd like to hear yours." Her eyebrows raise, pen hovering over the paper of the pad.

"It was a few days after I saw my shadow," you start, Wanda has a curious look on her face.

A pause.

"Your shadow?" She asks, you nod.

"The stalker, person watching me." You reply, she nods for you to continue. "I hadn't slept in days. The police didn't believe me. There was no evidence, they said, that anyone besides me had been in the house that night. So I went to the docks, and I-I bought a gun from some junkie. I'm not proud of what I did," you say, meeting her comforting gaze.

"I'm sure. You hadn't slept in days. You were delusional - sleep deprived. No medication, no diagnosis. Under extreme stress. Given the circumstances, I'm glad no one was hurt." Wanda concurs.

"Well, maybe not physically. But when you wave a gun around at 3 in the morning down the street, maybe a little psychological damage to the family that found me," you groan and put your head in your hands.

"The report said you had left a note at your house. What did it say?" Wanda asks, and you think back to when you scribbled on a piece of paper, what you thought would be, your last words. You're quiet for a moment. Wanda can tell you won't answer that question just yet.

"How about, who did you leave it for?" She asks.

"For my shadow."

The rest of the session you had spilled about your feelings that night and talked about you OCD and Bipolar disorder. You told her about your stay at the mental hospital, and told her about your routines. You spoke to her of almost everything.

"I think this session was really productive, Y/N. You've been very open with me, and I appreciate that." Wanda stood at the front door, smiling down to you. It was dark now, the sun at set completely. "I'll see you at the same time, Thursday?"

You nod and smile back at her. "I'll see you then." You walk to your car, feeling lighter. But you also can't ignore the hair on the back of your neck rising as you drive away.

***

Summer 2017

You scream loudly as you turn to see a figure behind you. A shadow, dressed in all black. A white faceless mask covered their true face. They stand still as you back away, slowly tilting their head to the side.

"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.

You run.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #dark fic

439 notes · View notes

imbored1201 · 3 months

Note

Hi your stories are so good..can i make a request of barca reader getting into fight but hiding from her teammates the injury?? Thanks

Don’t Touch The Sunglasses

Barcelona Femeni x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

You hated to admit it, but growing up, you had always gotten into fights, whether it was against the boys on your team for making fun of you. Thankfully, you were the coach's favorite, so he turned blind eye to it, and the boys had to much pride to admit to their parents they got hit by a girl.

Or if it was even your own 'friends' who pushed you relentlessly and tried crushing your dreams to become a football player.

Alexia noticed this when she saw you always talking back to the people in the stands who yelled insults to get into the players heads. It never got into your head, but you just wanted an excuse to argue with someone.

But she still told you off for it since it was also getting you a mixture of hate and love. People thought you should be the mature one and ignore it; others were happy you were standing up for yourself.

————

You went out to the market to get some candy, despite Alexia telling you no because you had to stick to the diet. She even called you to threaten that you would have to walk to Patri's if you didn't get home in 10 minutes, and the walk to Patri's from your guys place was about 15 minutes. Nothing compared to the running you do, but outside of practice, you were the laziest person.

You huffed seeing Alexia's car wasn't there when you finally got home. You even tried calling her, but she declined. You were a little mad; you didn't even buy your candy because you were in a rush to get back.

You were in between waiting for it to get dark so Alexia would pick you up since she hated when you walked in the dark or just walking it to finally get away from Alexia's overbearing nature.

You chose the second one.

————

You were stopped by fans five minutes into the walk. You expected it considering you were walking by a school football field, and it was the weekend, so little kids loved going to play since it was the only time the big kids weren't there.

You even talked to them and were even going to join them for a mini game until a lady came up to you and pushed the little kids away to grab you. "Sign this for my kid," she said rudely, shoving a jersey of yours into your arms.

You tore your arm away from her grip, glaring at her. "Could you not touch me and apologize to the kids. There was no need to push them like that." You scolded her with the tone Alexia always used to scold you.

She got angry. Angrier when you gave her back the jersey and paid attention to the kids again. "Don't fucking talk to me like that," she got in your face. You could smell the alcohol. "You're drunk and embarrassing yourself in front of all these people," you told her, walking away from her.

You knew you had to get yourself out of this situation, so you apologized to the kids but promised to come by next Saturday at the same time to play with them before walking away.

You weren't even able to walk five steps before you got sucker punched from the back. Her punch getting you right in the eye.

'Alexia is going to kill me' was the only thought you had in that moment. Thankfully, you were able to gain your composure again to push the woman away from you, but it didn't phase her as she tackled you to the ground.

You sighed in relief when one of the kids parents quickly pulled her off of you and held her to the ground while one of the kids called the police.

"Fuck," you mumbled, grabbing your camera to look at your eye. That lady was crazy, but she had a heck of a punch. You groaned when you saw it was already bruising up. You wanted to leave, but you also wanted to press charges on the drunk to get the last laugh.

You made your report, and you were let go after an hour of a bunch of paperwork. You huffed in annoyance as you started jogging to Patri's house now. You had three missed calls from Alexia and a bunch of texts from Ingrid and Fridolina. You quickly texted them back, saying you were fine.

You also had to make another stop at a store to get a random pair of sunglasses. It was probably making the whole situation more obvious, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

————

You let out deep breaths as you stopped in front of Patri's house. You were sure you had another bruise on your stomach from that tackle. You quickly knocked on the door, and it was opened by Fridolina, who pulled you into a tight hug. You let out a sigh of relief, thanking it wasn't Alexia or Irene.

"Where were you?" She questioned, giving you a water bottle, noticing how out of breath you were. "I got caught up," you mumbled, hugging everyone you passed.

No one questioned the glasses, but they did stare weirdly. You noticed Alexia staring you down, but you were intercepted by Salma and Ona before she could actually come up to you and question you.

You were shoved outside by the group of lunatics. Cata was making a bond fire while Pina and Patri were shoving marshmallows in their mouths.

"Alexia was really mad," Salma commented. "I'm surprised she hasn't tore your ear off," Ona added, patting Patri's back when she started choking on the marshmallows.

Once Patri's little choking session was done, it was her turn to bug you. She always said it was her role as a big sister.

"Could you not" you pushed Patri away from you as she tried grabbing the glasses. "You look stupid; is this one of your things to impress a girl again?" You huffed at that and pushed her away again.

Then Pina came from behind and jumped on your back to get them off. "Leave my glasses alone," you whined, getting Pina off.

You quickly ran back inside and locked the door, so the girls were stuck outside. Patri started pounding on the door.

You shook your head at Marta, who tried moving you to open it. "They started it." "Be the mature one for once," she told you, opening it when you gave up.

Right when she opened it, Patri and Pina pounced on you, tackling you to the ground. "Marta!" You yelled, reaching out for her.

"Hey!" You yelled as your glasses got snatched off your face. Patri and Pina jumped up, seeing the black eye. "Alexia!" Pina yelled, grabbing your face.

Marta finally noticed what they were freaking out about and pulled them off. If that lady didn't give you a bruise on your stomach, Patri and Pina definitely did. "Come here," she said sternly. You quickly listened and followed her to the couch, trying to come up with some excuse about this black eye.

————

After what felt like 100 'what happened to your eye' later and everyone grabbing your face to observe your eye, Alexia finally got to talking.

"Are you going to tell me the truth?" She asked first, and you thought for a little bit and nodded. "Of course, I'll tell you the truth. I was running, and some kids started running beside me to get a picture, and I got distracted and ran into a pole," you explained.

Alexia's face stayed stern; you hated that she could easily tell when someone was lying, especially when that someone was you. "No, soy estùpida, tell me the truth."

"Some drunk who wanted this pretty face" you tried to lighten up the mood, but that just earned you a smack to the back of the head.

"Can you not hit her, She's obviously been hit enough." Ingrid scolded Mapi, who was the one who delivered that blow. "I only got hit once and tackled," you shrugged, punching Mapi's shoulder.

You looked at Alexia. "It actually wasn't my fault; she was being rude and even pushed some kids away that wanted a picture with me. I could tell she was drunk, so I tried getting away, but she punched me from behind and tackled me."

Irene gave you an ice pack. "And you tried hiding it?" She questioned, "It's embarrassing; I never lose a fight," everyone in the room groaned.

"Really, all because your ego was hurt." Ingrid couldn't believe her ears, but she did feel for you.

"Technically, you won, kid; it was a sucker punch." Your eyes brightened at Mapi's words. "Hell yeah," you said, standing up to high five Patri, Salma, and Pina.

Alexia grabbed you by the shoulder and gave you a look that made you sit down again. "Is she in jail?" You nodded. "I pressed charges; they said they would call me.

Alexia sighed in relief. "I still can't believe she punched you." You could tell she was still angry, but not at you anymore.

"Now that this is addressed, can I please have ice cream?" Usually, when you got hurt or were sad, Alexia let you eat whatever you wanted, even though she was strict about keeping a healthy diet.

"Fine, but only ice cream." "Yes captain."

————

Now you were happy that lady punched you; you had an amazing story to tell fans when they asked you what happened; the team was babying you more than usual and getting you whatever you wanted; and that lady was going to prison.

#woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso community #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen #alexia putellas #mapi leon #patri guijarro #claudia pina #fridolina rolfö

553 notes · View notes

wild-lavender-rose · 2 months

Text

Proposal

Pairing: Darry Curtis x fem!reader

Category: One-shot

Summary: Darry asks your abusive father for permission to marry you, a request that does not go over well. But Darry and you are determined to be together, no matter what it takes.

Warning: Verbally abusive father, drunk father, language, canon typical fighting

Prompts: This is for the @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me Valentine's Day event. I chose the prompts "I love you" and "I could marry you right now". Enjoy!

"Get off of my porch and oughta my sight, you filthy little-"

"Dad?" You walked faster down your street at the sound of your father's slurred cursing, paper bags full of groceries heavy in each arm.

"Look, I'm just trying to do things the right way, she deserves the best,"

"Oh god," you broke into a run. "Dad? Darry?"

"Then why the hell you comin' here askin' for her?"

"I can take care of her a whole lot better than you can,"

You rounded the corner to see your Dad backing Darry out onto the front porch. Your father was drunk again, but then there was seldom a time where he wasn't drunk.

"I'm about to take care of you right now." Your father raised the half empty beer bottle in his fist just as you kicked open the broken metal gate guarding the overgrown lawn to you and your father's dilapidated house.

"Dad, stop!" You dropped the groceries without thinking, running up the creaky porch steps to stand between him and Darry.

"Baby," Darry's tone softened.

"I told you not to bother with askin," you looked over your shoulder at him, noting how he had gotten dressed up for the occasion.

"There is no way in hell that I'll ever let you marry him." Your dad waved his beer bottle at you. "Now get in the house."

"No, Dad." You shook your head even as your insides trembled. "Darry and I have a plan, we've had it for a while. We're getting married."

"You are not! I won't let you!"

"I don't need your permission, Dad, I'm leaving."

"What the," your father spluttered. "If you leave I'll call the police and have him and his brothers arrested."

"For what? Taking care of your daughter?" Darry took a step closer, his chest pressing against your back. "I love her, sir. I love her and I'm gonna take care of her."

# # # # #

"He said what?!" Ponyboy burst out laughing as he flopped on the couch next to Sodapop. "Our Darry?"

"This stays in the family, all right?" Darry reached out for you as you came from the kitchen to the living room where the brothers all sat, tugging you easily into his lap. "Not a word about it to any of the others."

"We wouldn't want anyone else to know he's a softie." You grinned as you settled against him, draping your arms around his shoulders with your legs pulled into his lap.

Darry rolled his eyes but didn't bother to hide his smile. "I could marry you right now." He bumped his nose against yours.

"Can't wait three more days?" You nuzzled right back. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch until then."

"Let Ponyboy take the couch, he don't mind," Sodapop nudged Ponyboy who nodded willingly.

"I love you." Darry said.

You blinked, surprised that he said it in front of his brothers. "I love you too."

"What do you say we go wake up the justice of the peace now and have ourselves a wedding?"

You laughed. You should have known something like this was going to happen. A midnight wedding seemed the perfect start to the crazy life you and Darry were going to make together.

"Of course, babe. I'd love that."

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love you."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Dare."

Fanfic Masterlist

#yippee ki yay valentines #the outsiders fanfiction #outsiders #the outsiders #the outsiders darry #darry curtis #darry x reader #darry x you #darry x y/n #the outsiders Darry curtis #darry #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis x you #Darry curtis x y/n

214 notes · View notes

roses-for-rosalyn · 8 months

Note

Hey sweetheart, I have this idea about cop!Ellie and cop!reader I've never shared bc I'm so shy to ask, but if you are open to write about it here it is.(sorry if something doesn't make sense inglish is not my first lenguage)

Well Ellie and reader are work partners and they don't really like each other because Ellie is kinda mean?(she is the director btw) but there's a tension between them anyways. So they have a night shift together and on the way in the car the reader begins to flirt, like touching ellie's thigh, and she stops in a field and fucks the reader brains out<33

-💌

This took forever but I hope I did your idea justice!

a/n: sorry I haven’t written anything in so long, life is crazy

Ellie x reader

Wc: 3k (roughly)

Minors dni 🔞 (I will jump through your screen and poke you in the eyes I stg)

CWs: police officer! Ellie and reader, play girl Ellie, fem reader, cop stuff idk, enemies to lovers (ish?), thigh riding, overstim, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms

—

As a small town cop things rarely became dangerous, so on the rare occasion things did go awry no one was really prepared. You got a call about a car speeding through town at about 90 miles an hour. It quickly becomes a chase with Williams at the wheel. Before she even starts catching up to the car you both begin bickering on what roads to take to catch up and who can read the license plate better. The world becomes a blur as the car picks up speed, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the sirens make it hard to hear anything.

You attempt to shout over the noise, “Williams we might be able to catch them if we take-”

“Shutthefuckup I know what I’m doing!” She yells back even louder, more irritated because you dared tell her what to do. She didn’t even let you finish and she missed the turn that would have taken you ahead of the car to block their path.

“Williams we’re gonna lose ‘em.” You couldn’t convince her, you’re not sure anyone could have. The car takes a sudden turn and she misses it, she quickly reverses and turns down the dirt road only for the car to disappear from sight. She tries to make a few turns but it’s useless, these roads went in every direction with thick woods surrounding them. Even townies got lost in there.

She slows the car down eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the road and quietly mutters “Fuck.” under her breath.

“Maybe you should have listened to the directional advice from someone who was fucking born here instead of trying to do everything yourself.” You can’t help but notice you scolded her like a primary school teacher, but she makes it so hard when she acts like this.

“Please I don’t need a fucking ‘I told you so’ talk right now.” She huffs.

“I hope you know this is completely your fault, I can’t fucking believe-”

“I swear to god if you keep talking I’m going to kick you out of this goddamn car.” She turns and looks at you straight in the eye, challenging you. Her tone is eerily calm. You narrow your gaze but say nothing, turning to look straight ahead. And with that she drives you both back to the station, defeated with only half of the criminal's license plate.

- -

Patrol partners are supposed to be friends- Or at least friend-ly. That’s what anyone would assume, you have to spend every day together, not getting along would just result in various inconvenient miscommunications and misunderstandings.

Yeah, well you weren’t that lucky. Your patrol partner is Ellie Williams aka “Williams” according to her various male coworkers. Her female coworkers tended to lean more towards nicknames like “whore” or “slut” considering she hooked up with a couple of them and then acted like she barely knew them at work the next day and did it all over again. She had to start finding hookups outside the station last month because all her go-tos had refused her unless she wanted something serious. On top of that the few that she got with turned the rest of the girls against her, all she had left was you and all the guys at the station- and you didn’t really count since you were forced to be with her. This meant recently she was particularly irritable considering she couldn’t find a lot- if any- women to relieve any of her tension, so patrolling with her for the past 30 days has been hell.

On a more positive note it made gossiping with your coworkers over coffee the best part of your day. They would talk about their hookups which would inevitably lead back to shit talking Williams- which you would enthusiastically participate in considering how she treated you on the job. However they all agreed that they tolerated it for as long as they did because the sex was good. And you believed them because they had to put up with some crazy bullshit from her. A tiny part of you yearned for them to explain just how good it was, but you’d never ever give in to that curiosity.

Williams- on the rare occasion she would say anything- was mean, she would make snide comments all the time no matter what task you were taking on. She had some sort of superiority complex because she was- admittedly- very good at her job. She had transferred from some big city to your small town station and she had much more experience. She was incredibly skilled at taking people down when she needed to. However, compared to her old job, barely anything happens here. When something did happen she would insist on taking over the task almost every single time, the only thing she couldn’t trump you in was de-escalation. She was terrible at communication and that was most of the job. Calls would mostly be noise complaints or welfare checks, so you took the lead for those and it drove her crazy. She couldn’t stand being inferior to anyone, especially on the job. So you were squabbling constantly.

And for some reason tonight she was in a particularly bad mood. You’re stationed on the side of the road, keeping watch for anyone disobeying any road safety laws and Williams is silent. Not particularly unusual, but her body language was odd, she was weirdly tense. She sat fidgeting with her hands, picking at her cuticles, occasionally glancing up if she heard a car. Nothing in you wanted to show you cared at all for her, because you didn’t, but at this point you were so bored you didn’t care if you started one of your usual squabbles.

“Something wrong Williams?” You tentatively ask.

“ ‘m fine, just tired.” she says, still not glancing up.

“You seem offly tense for a tired person.” You try to push her a bit.

She finally looks up at you, her expression remaining neutral “Considering your observations, you really think now’s a good time to test me sweetheart?” God you hated when she called you that, she refused to refer to you by your last name, always resorting to some condescending nickname.

You roll your eyes, just as you were about to respond a staticky voice interrupts, asking for anyone available for a call about a noise complaint about two minutes away. Ellie picks up the walkie and calls in saying she could take it and starts the car.

You drive there in silence and to no one’s surprise it’s Mrs. Taylor. She frequently calls at night whenever she hears her teenage neighbors so much as talk loud enough for her to hear. And every time she would make you both walk over to them and ask them to quiet down.

This time though when you got out of the car you could hear muffled music coming from the neighbor’s all the way from Mrs. Taylor’s lawn. You walk up to her door, Williams following silently, and knock gently a couple of times. You hear soft shuffling, a lock clicking and then the door opens revealing the grumpy old woman’s tired face. She’s wearing a long dusty pink robe, striped pajama pants and ratty slippers, clearly she had been recently woken up by the noise.

“Hello Mrs. Taylor.” You smile politely.

“Hello dear.” She smiles back at you, but falters for a moment when she spots your partner, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She used to babysit all the kids in the neighborhood, you were always her favorite. She treated everyone else like they were some sort of pest, especially outsiders.

“Neighbors bothering you again?” You already knew the answer, but you felt the need to be polite.

“I can’t sleep with all that ruckus, rotten children they are. Too bad too, they used to be the sweetest when they were little.” She shook her head.

“Alright we’ll get it all sorted out, you can go back to bed.” You nod your head.

The old woman smiles before reaching forward and pinching your cheek while saying “You’re so good to me dear. Come over for dinner some time so I can make it up to you.”

“Just doing my job ma'am.” You reassure her.

“Well, goodnight. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll sort something out.” She begins shuffling backwards, and grabs the door handle.

“Good night Mrs. Taylor.” You wave at her and she closes the door.

“God you’re unbelievable.” Ellie scoffs from behind you.

“What?” you turn around to face her.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me like that once in a while?” For the life of you you could not figure out where this was coming from.

“You have to earn it.” You retort, while beginning to walk to the neighbors house. Ellie just huffs and jogs a bit to catch up to you, god forbid you get ahead of her in any way.

You make your way to the house, the bass rattling your teeth by the time you're on the front stoop. Ellie takes her usual spot behind you and you knock loudly, bashing your fist against the door. Hopefully someone hears so you don’t have to make a scene, they weren’t bad kids. Sure enough the music turns off and the door opens slowly revealing a set of scared, round eyes.

“Hey Kelly.” You knew her well from the past complaints, she was pretty polite especially for a teenager. The poor girl was practically shaking. “You probably know why we’re here.” She nods slowly. “Ok, so just do us a favor and turn your music down so we don’t get another call from Mrs. Taylor alright?” you say gently, knowing when you’re in uniform everything about you was intimidating enough without you having to yell.

“Th-that’s it?” She asks, her whole body shaking with adrenaline at this point.

“Yup, just make sure this doesn’t happen again. Shouldn’t have the volume that high anyway, it’s bad for your hearing.” You smile, “Probably don’t want to go deaf by the time you’re 20.”

Kelly just nods again “O-ok thank you. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Alright have a good night, stay out of trouble.” You turn away and Ellie does the same.

The walk back to the car is silent except for the steady hum of cicadas. You’re about to put your seatbelt on when Ellie says “So what do I have to do?”

You pause your movements, “What?”

“What do I have to do to earn it?” When you still look confused she elaborates “You being nice to me. What do I have to do to earn that?”

“I don’t know. With the way you treat me it’s almost like you enjoy me being mean to you.” You let out a dry laugh.

She slowly leans towards you, “Oh, I do.” She says, her tone changing completely, her voice becomes raspy and deep, almost like a whisper and a smirk tugs at her lips. “I love making you mad, but something tells me you’re even more delightful when you’re all sweet like that.”

“Williams what-” She leans even closer, inches away from your face and suddenly you forgot everything that wasn’t Ellie. You couldn’t utter a word if you tried.

“Tell me.” Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. “What.” Her lips are so close you can almost feel her words. “To do.” You let out a sigh and give in, abandoning all logic you press your lips against hers. She stiffens but then her hands automatically move to cup your jaw so she can deepen the kiss. Her tongue swipes across your lips, inviting them to open. You can’t really move, unable to completely process what’s happening. She’s so warm and soft and everything you didn’t expect.

She starts making her way down to your neck, exploring your reactions as she kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin. A small whimper escapes from your lips, and Ellie is sure she’s never heard something more intoxicating.

“Williams-” She finds a particular spot behind your ear that causes you to let out a quiet moan, making you forget how to speak for a moment.

“W-we can’t do this here, you know that.” She stops and moves her head to meet your gaze.

“You’re right, we should probably find someplace where we don’t run the risk of teenagers or Mrs. Taylor finding us.” That wasn’t what you meant but it was probably the first time she had ever agreed with you the entire time you’ve been partners.

She pulls off the road into a field and as soon as she parks she immediately starts where she left off. Somehow she knew exactly how to reduce you to a whimpering mess in mere moments. In between kisses she whispers “Take off your belt.” Her tone was so sure and dominant it sent a wave of arousal straight to your center. You do as she says, you forgot you had put on your utility belt for the call, but she clearly took note. You try not to move too much as she continues marking up your skin. She stops again, “Now get in the back.” She doesn’t wait for your response before taking her own utility belt off, leaving it in the front seat and opening her door. It was a little more work in a patrol car considering there were bars separating the front and backseat, but at this point neither of you cared much.

Ellie is first to sit down in the back and shut the door behind her, you do the same and crawl over to straddle her lap. “You feelin a little eager, sweetheart?” She looks at you with that obnoxious smirk on her face, but this time it didn’t annoy you as much as it usually did. You kiss the grin off her face before moving to her neck, listening to her little sighs and moans as you press your lips to her soft skin. The noises she’s making send arousal straight to your aching center and you begin to grind down on her lap, desperate for some kind of relief. She starts taking off your belt with trembling, eager fingers and throws it off to the side. You reach for hers as she untucks your shirt and begins unbuttoning it as quickly as she could, leaving you in your tank top. Your lips meet hers and the kisses grow hungrier by the second, each of you becoming more and more eager to undress the other.

As you begin to unfasten Ellie’s shirt she sighs in frustration, “Jesus christ all these fucking layers are driving me crazy.”

You laugh and say in between kisses, “Gotta make you work for it Williams.” With that she rips off your tank top, and immediately begins groping your breasts over your bra. You moan into her mouth and begin to grind down onto her even harder. Ellie notices and spreads her legs a bit, moving your leg in between hers so you were straddling her thigh. Relief rushes through you as you lower down onto her muscular thigh and begin moving your hips back and forth. She reaches behind you to unclasp your bra leaving your top half bare for her. She can’t resist breaking the kiss to move her focus to your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth with a satisfied hum. A soft whine escapes your lips as her warm tongue circles your sensitive nipples. Her hands have a steady hold on your hips, encouraging you to move against her thigh, harder and faster. Yours have found a home in her hair, tugging harder and harder as your pleasure builds on itself causing Ellie to groan as arousal begins to pool in her boxers.

“Get up.” Ellie commands in a hoarse whisper that sends butterflies straight to your cunt. You climb off her and lean against the car door. The sight of you in the dim moonlight, topless with spread legs and unzipped pants, a fucked out expression on your face almost has Ellie coming right then and there. She unties your shoes and gently removes them, before grabbing the hem of your pants and tugging them down in one swift motion. She crawls between your legs and wraps her arms around each of your thighs, gently kissing a path to your dripping cunt. A wet spot had formed on your panties causing your face to become hot from embarrassment, but Ellie seemed to have a different reaction “God you’re so beautiful, it’s driving me crazy.” She begins teasing you over the fabric of your underwear, running her fingers up and down your slit. A whimper escapes your lips as a silent plea for more, but she continues teasing. She finally pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and takes a moment before gently blowing on your soaked folds.

“Please-” you manage to whimper as the cool air from Ellie’s lips hits your warm center sending a pleasurable shock through you. You would expect for her to make you beg for it, but she immediately obliged, licking a line from your dripping entrance to your clit. You gasp and grip on to her hair, searching for anything to hold on to as pleasure overwhelms every one of your senses. Ellie groans at the feeling as she begins gently licking at your clit, teasing you. The sound sends vibrations through your lower body and you moan at the feeling, now losing any control you had over the volume of your voice. She begins moving her tongue in circles over your sensitive bud as she teases your entrance with a slender finger. You let out the loudest moan yet, encouraging Ellie to plunge her finger further inside you. It slides in easily, arousal practically coating your thighs at this point. Suddenly she hits the spot causing a desperate whiny “Oh fuck,” To escape from your swollen lips as you clench lightly around her finger. She adds a second, the feeling of her two fingers causes a satisfying amount of pressure to fill your cunt. She hits a spot that you swear sends white light through your closed eyes and keeps hitting it with every rough, slow thrust of her fingers. Your hips begin to move, trying to get her to fuck you harder but she only pins your down by your waist with her free hand forcing you to endure her painful pace. “Ellie,” you whine, “please- I-“ you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What do you need sweetheart?” She pauses briefly to look at your fucked out expression and your arousal has dropped all the down her chin. The very sight almost does you in.

“Please,” you beg her in hopes she’ll spare you the humiliation of asking her.

“Mm mm,” she lightly shakes her head “words baby.” That was a much better nickname, the way she said baby made your cunt flutter around her fingers

“P-please-” you sigh before finishing “-fuck me harder pleasee.” You think that’s probably the most pathetic you’ll ever sound but Ellie obeys. She sucks your puffy clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hypersensitive nub before moving her fingers faster. She picks up speed until you can’t think about anything but Ellie’s mouth and fingers. The pace was practically inhuman, you tilt your head back as a silent scream rips it’s way through you before you moan “fffuuckk,” in a high pitched tone. She continues moving her hands rapidly in and out of you curling them at just the right angle. You begin to flutter around her fingers and she knew you were close.

“Almost there baby?” All you can do in response in moan, she has you practically incapacitated. She giggled a little “Good, come for me.” As her words reached your ears your pleasure finally hit it’s peak. You begin writing against Ellie’s fingers as you roughly clench down on them. Your pleasure rips through you in overwhelming waves, moans uncontrollably leaving your lips as Ellie’s fingers continue their brutal pace. She doesn’t let up though, she keeps going as your clit grows more and more sensitive. You tug at her hair but she doesn’t move, she continues as your hips begin bucking against her arm that was pinning you down.

“Ellie it’s too much I can’t-”

“You can take one more can’t you sweetheart?” She asks sweetly as she fucks your sensitive hole with no mercy. You just nod and she continues sucking and licking at your clit, occasionally moaning which only enhanced the overwhelming pleasure. This time you were more tightly wound up and faster. It didn’t take long before you approached the edge again, the feeling twice as intense. You almost worry as it begins to build and build, just as you thought you had reached your peak it kept going. You finally topple over the edge as Ellie’s teeth lightly graze your clit, the feeling sending you into overdrive. You tugs Ellie’s hair harder than you ever had before as you make a mess all over the seats and Ellie’s mouth and fingers. She laps it all up contently, actually backing down when you pushed her away this time. She leans back into her knees and tries to catch her breath.

A smirk grows on your face as you begin leaning towards her, “it’s your turn.”

—

Idrk how I feel about this but at least I finished it 😀👍

Reblogs and notes are always appreciated and encouraged 💕‼️

Hopefully I will start updating more but I can’t really promise anything lmao

#ellie williams #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #cop! Ellie Williams

482 notes · View notes

tfgalore · 6 months

Text

Test Of Time

“One…two…three…four….” I grunted as I struggled to lift the plate loaded bar. I set it back down, panting as I sat up, annoyed at myself. The last few weeks, and even months, I’d been getting weaker. Thanks to my aging body, I was getting weaker, it was harder to build muscle in the gym, and even people were coming up to me, telling me I looked tired or pointing out slowly graying hairs. I sighed, knowing that my 60’s was something I’d have to deal with eventually. I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by a excited whoop from my left. I turned to look, seeing a younger guy benching almost thrice my weight. His muscles were bulging, and he had a grin on his face. He was clearly in the prime of his youth, which made me jealous. If only there was a way to get back my youth…

That thought was the beginning of my obsession with witchcraft. At first, I just looked for ways to turn back the hands of time, to get my body back to its 20’s but I came up with nothing. Just as I was about to give up, I came across a possession spell. An idea clicked in my mind as memories of the hunk from the gym flashed in my mind. A grin spread across my face, as I delved into more research about it.

A week later, I was back at the gym, prepared to take my new life. I wiped my sweaty palms on my sweatpants, gulping as beads of sweat dripped down my face, a nervous expression plastered on. I had no clue if this was actually going to work, but I had to try. As the hunk, who’s name is learned was Sam, walked by, I quickly grabbed him by the wrist. He locked eyes with me, in confusion as he tried to pull away, but I started to mutter the spell, and our worlds seemed to spin.

I could feel my body changing. My wrinkled skin started to tighten, and glow with renewed youth as his started to crinkle slightly like creased paper. My muscles started to inflate and bulge, newfound strength flowing through them as the same happened to my legs and calves. I grinned as I looked down to see I now had muscular and toned thighs just like Sam had before. Our faces started to shift and warp. Sam was panicking. He clearly had no idea what was happening, other than the fact that he was getting weaker and weaker. I stared back up, only to come face to face with my previous self. It was like looking into a mirror, except now, I looked exactly like Sam had before.

I pulled away from the other, grinning. A quick look in the nearby mirror had me smiling from ear to ear as I flexed my bicep and rolled my abs. The control I had over each muscle was amazing. “Holy shit…it worked!” I grinned. Meanwhile, Sam was having a breakdown. He grabbed me, trying to force me to undo whatever curse I’d just done. A slight altercation and a phone call to the police later, Sam was getting dragged out by security guards, cursing and screaming that I’d stolen his body. Everyone assumed he was crazy, a man going senile after the stress of work and age had finally caught up to him.

Ever since then, living as Sam has been such a blast. Everyone was surprised when I came out as gay, but now I’ve got plenty of guys lining up at my door just to be fucked or fuck me. Sam has a huge trust fund too, but instead of dipping into that, I decided to start up an OnlyFans. Something about having guys pay to watch me jerk off or have sex just turns me on beyond anything, and I make some good money from it. I wonder if the old Sam is subscribed too. I’ve even graduated from college now. The old Sam wasn’t doing too well, but with my previous knowledge, I’ve managed to turn that around, graduating as one of the top students. Life really couldn’t get any better…and the best part, I never have to worry about getting old again. All o have to do is find another hunk when the time comes.

#gay #male body swap #body swap #gay body swap

341 notes · View notes

shadesoflsk · 2 months

Note

Hiiii!!!! I have an idea! Imagine like getting married to leon/going through the whole process of wedding shopping etc with him. Also do you think he would cry at a wedding? I love your works sm you're so talented I hope you have a great day/night! 💗

leon kennedy x gn reader

Anon... You don't know how much I enjoy thinking about Leon getting married and all those sappy things. It's like you read my mind. And thank you so much ueueue. I'm glad you like my works. <3

I feel like Leon would act really calm and collected in front of you. Even cracking some jokes about not having anything planned out for the wedding. But Dear God that is far from the truth.

But first, let’s talk about everything before the whole preparation. Leon would definitely struggle to get the right ring size for you. Acting smooth? Not in his dictionary. At first, he’d try it when both of you are ‘sleeping.’ He once read someone could get the exact size by wrapping a string around his partner’s finger.

He tried.

It was unsuccessful.

You either shifted in your sleep or he couldn’t get the right angle to wrap the thin string.

Ultimately, he just asked you to try some rings, just for funsies… Of course.

Now, after the exhausting task of buying the ring and actually asking you to marry him, he'd be delighted to start organizing the wedding.

At first, he'd try to brush it off by saying that both of you should go with the flow, not to stress over the wedding. But his old-ass would discover Pinterest and a new world was presented for him. His favorite late-night activity would be searching for wedding ideas and he takes his job very seriously.

Glasses and all, he’d hold his cell phone so close to his face for you not to notice him. Poor guy doesn’t know that you can see through the reflection of them. Usually, he’d leave all the decorations to you, even when you two decided to move in together since he lacks creativity. But a wedding involves two people, and that day is just as special for him as it is for you.

Eventually, he understands he doesn’t need to feel bashful. All of his life has been surrounded by destruction and violence, he may as well indulge in the domesticity and the tranquility of finally settling down with someone he loves.

Leon is a foodie, so his favorite appointments are the ones in which both of you have to try the dishes you want to serve at your wedding. Growing up, he didn’t get to eat home meals, and even when he first started the Police Academy most of his meals consisted of takeouts or food he’d prepare himself. So the mere task of devouring those plates for the sake of the wedding was a great excuse.

He wouldn’t wear a suit and you wouldn’t force him either. However, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t put some effort into how he looks. Part of the wedding planning included a visit to his most trusted barber! He’d definitely shave to look clean in the pictures, but his hair would remain the same.

Leon talks to you and shares his thoughts about the wedding reception. Flashy and showy types of settings aren’t his thing so he suggests going for a beach wedding. The suggestion soon turns into persuasion. He’d show you videos of people getting married on the beautiful Caribbean beaches, or some perfect attires for the beach.

“Oh, it seems that my phone is spying on me or something.” He glances a subtle look at you to see if you’re listening to him. By the tone of his voice, you already know what he is implying.

“Why is that?” And when you finally look at him, you see how his smiles get wider. Of course he got you.

“Because… YouTube won’t stop showing me beach wedding videos. How crazy it is, right?”

So, Leon’s pleas are heard and you decide to go for it. Although, something you both agree on is the fact that it needs to be private, just friends and family.

And yes, he definitely cries at the wedding. One thing he kept from his religious past is the vows, he promises you a future in which he is going to be next to you no matter what. So, in the middle of his speech, his voice would crack, a tiny bit. Clearing his throat he acts like nothing happened but everyone could notice how emotional he is.

Overall, Leon would be delighted to take this next step with you. The last thing he expected in his life was to find love in this messed-up world. And don’t get me started on how Leon would be as a husband because that man is husband material through and through! I’d write a whole essay just for him.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy drabble #— ࣪ ⊹ 💌 ruby's askbox

353 notes · View notes

ressonancee · 10 months

Text

WHEN THE HEAT WAVE COMES

✦ LEE JIHOON/WOOZI - f!reader

✦ genre: Friends to lovers, Smut (minors don't interact)

✦ word count: 7.635

Also a big thank you to nia and eclavayne for giving this a look and soothing my insecurities about how Woozi was written in this.

Jihoon is a guy who likes to have answers.

Someone asked him about music? Sure thing. On line 3 the rhyme is off. At bar 1.45 the beat needs to be more pronounced. Maybe in this song particularly, the music engineer can raise a bit of the vocal. Here at this moment you can change your tone and deliver the line faster.

Someone asked him about lifting weights? Of course, you just need to plant your feet more. You need to engage this muscle, not this one like you are doing. You count to three and lift one more time till the point of giving up.

Someone asked him about life plans, and he had the answers. Someone asked him about finances and he had the answer - maybe because Mingyu gave him the number of the company for future investments, but still he knew! And even when the fields he was lacking, like communication and feelings he did his best, he used his others skills to make it through, like writing a song to his members when he didn't know how to say the right words.

But if someone asked him how he ended up in this situation, he wouldn't know really.

He knew how you two met - Minghao shocked everyone when he showed up with you to a Sunday lunch on Cheol's new apartment and everyone was silent and the first thing who actually interacted with you was Kkuma.

He knew the moment when you two first hang out alone - after a few weeks of Minghao totally denying you were his girlfriend and saying you actually could cry because that one exposition at that one museum was closing up and Minghao was too sick to go with you, so Jihoon just got dressed and said he could go with you, which he knew it would make Minghao think about it, or even act a little bit surprised due to Woozi's habits of actively not going out of the house or his studio.

He knew the first time he saw you cry - the very same day, looking at a painting, Woozi didn't quite understand it, it was beautiful - sure, but it didn't quite make him feel like weeping. He knew a lot of other things. Your favorite food? He had the answer to that - lemon pie, which made Woozi think that you were kinda of psycho.

Your favorite time of the year? Summer oh how you loved summer and the hot sun - which again, kinda crazy if you asked him about it. What did you dread the most? Birthdays, not everyone's but yours, so when it hit up midnight and everyone sent you a happy birthday message and you didn’t reply it was okay, you could be sleeping. But when it hit 10 am and you showed no trace of life Woozi felt like he was going throw up, but he kept to himself, when it hit 2 o'clock in the afternoon and everyone was worried he felt a relief at least he was not going crazy alone.

When it was six pm and Woozi was already packing his things up because he was just passing around his studio and mind resolute that he should go to the police he was actually aware that something in his mind didn't feel quite right. But then you showed up in his company hall with tear-stained face saying that you actually left your phone at home and didn't have how to hit him up and the security guy didn't let you in, he felt like he was actually going insane. So he just took you home, to your home, because you said you didn't want to be with anybody else but you said he could give Minghao a heads up because the boy was also worried. "Why?" you had asked "You guys are silly." you said with a little laugh that made Woozi's head spin full force, silly? He was worried crazy, almost filling a missing person report that he may googled about how he needed to wait 48 hours to do it and you called him silly?

So after that, he knew something was wrong with him.

But if someone asked when his feelings changed, he wouldn't know the answer. If someone asked him why he didn't do something about it he wouldn't know the answer - and oh god how mingyu pressed him on that, and weirdly enough minghao too.

He told himself he was better off being your friend, the idol life being crazy enough - often, you two had late-night talks, and every time you said how the idol life was not something you would enjoy. Actually, you’d said you would probably drive you clinically crazy.

But lately, he was feeling like a damn high schooler, hormone-driven boy with a crush. Which made he feel completely pathetic. But he guess he could blame the summer. Or he could blame himself, he knew it was a bad idea getting out of the house on a Sunday afternoon, but what you asked that he didn't do?

So here he was, laying on your couch, watching the new episode of God knows what because he is really much not watching because your legs are spread out on the floor while you are painting something - really Woozi wouldn't even know what that was if you were dressed head to toe. But nope, you were wearing the tiniest jeans short paired with the silliest little blouse. And god, he did hate the summer, he hated how the hot time made his skin feel, and he hated how just going out was even more of a hassle when his clothes were clinging to him, but if someone asked right now he had a different answer, right now he loved the summer.

Fuck, he loved how your skin was out all the time or how you put your hair up more and your neck was always out for his view.

"Literally Mackenzie is crazy." You said getting his attention. Oh right, it was the newsroom you have been binge-watching.

"hmm." He hummed.

"jihoon." You scolded him. "I told you I could rewatch the first eps with you, now you are just not paying attention because you have the excuse of not understanding the plotline."

"it's okay." He said, spreading his body on the sofa and hearing his back crack. And there you were eyes big and glued to him. "What?"

"Nothing." You said but Jihoon knew it was not nothing, not when you didn't blink your eyes and just stared at him like something was clearly not right.

"Just tell me." Woozi said getting up.

"I just-" You start and storm off, making Jihoon follow you around your apartment until you find your phone.

"What is happening?" He asked, getting a little frustrated of your lack of answer.

"I'm on my fertile period." You answer and Jihoon can actually feels his head spin.

"Your what?"

"My fertile period, you know, horny jail time of the month." You say giving up and laying on your bed.

"I know what a fertile period is." Jihoon answered, he may be feeling like a high schooler, but he isn't actually one. He deep breaths trying to regain his consciousness because everything is just so weird right now he can't quite grasp everything that is happening when your boobs almost pour out of the shirt and he is thinking about how pretty they are and how soft they look and how he wants to grab at it, leaving his palm imprint on them or maybe kiss them until he has marked every tiny part of it - "I just don't know why you are bringing it up."

"You-" You don't quite finish, hiding behind your hands, and Woozi thinks everything is out of place, he has a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach - yeah he was having an internal fight with his dick because since he arrived he was almost spotting a semi hard on, thank gods he chose jeans today, but something was out of place and he can't quite pinpoint it.

"I?" He sits on the bed by your side, hands automatically going to your knee.

"You got bigger." You say voice small and Jihoon has to bend his body a little bit to hear it.

"Yeah, I'm lifting a few more pounds. I told you my pt is kicking my ass." And is not a question, but it sounds like one because for the first time, Woozi doesn't understand you. And that is weird because your friendship was built on the fact that you were one of the few person that Woozi actually felt it was easy to be around.

"You are almost rippin' your shirt." Your answer and Jihoon looked at himself, sure it is a thight shirt, he had it for a few years, he thought. His face tho must still be the same because when he looks at you, mind still looking for the last piece of the puzzle you answer. "You’re hot, okay?" You say abruptly, turning on the bed and hiding your face on a pillow.

"What is going on?" Jihoon says, which he regrets because it was not a question to you. It was a question to himself, but apparently, when your ass in your tiny short was in his point of view, he lost his mind-mouth filter.

"what is going on?" You retort. Changing your position again and looking at the ceiling. "what is going on is that I haven't gotten laid in like four months and I'm just going crazy enough that when my hot guy friend is over on my sofa my mind just goes straight to the gutter, in like five seconds I thought about kissing you, sucking you off, riding you, and I may be going crazy and straight to hell because your long hair makes me think about me sitting on your face 24/7." You saying without taking a breath. "that's jihoon is what is going on, really." You let out a small scream.

"What?" Jihoon answers because is the only thing he can think really, if before he was looking for only one piece of the puzzle now it seems like someone just tossed the whole picture of the table and he has to pick everything up.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, confessing that I kinda of have a crush on you is embarrassing enough"

"What?" Jihoon almost shouts and his brain feels like it is on fire short circuiting, and he is not ok, he doesn't feel okay, he feels like he is having an out-of-body experience.

"I know you don't feel the same way, don't worry." You say covering your face with your arms crossed like you can't even look at him, voice small that he can barely hear you. "mingyu and minghao told me that every time they bring me up, you go into your 'are you crazy mode'. I just-" You sit up on the bed and look at Jihoon. "I don't really expect anything from you, like..." you breathe loudly. "I just have been thinking, you know? Like I know you are my friend and that right now I may be ruining everything and making you uncomfortable, and maybe you never want to hang out with me after this shit show, but -" You pause again. "I just, I really need to be honest about my feelings, with myself, and with you, and I understand that you don't like me the same way I know that is just that -"

And you get almost whiplash when your rant is cut short because Jihoon's lips are against yours and his hand is holding your head almost as softly as his lips and the feeling of being treasured almost breaks your heart in tiny little pieces. And Jihoon feels like he lost his damn mind, he doesn't quite know if he is on cloud nine or paradise if he needs to shout in the window so everyone can hear how happy he is, or if he needs to just get up and buy you a ring and ask you hands in marriage before you change your mind. But he just kisses you, because it was easier, it was the less weird option, and because kissing you has living in the back of his mind for quite some time.

"what?" It was your time to ask.

"It doesn't make sense," Jihoon says, tugging his hair behind his ear, making you wish you were the one doing that silly little act. Again, he feels like he is so dedicated to his life in every aspect of it, and somehow all the pieces and all the answers just fall short, making him feel tongue-tied.

"What doesn't make sense?" and you are so out of your mind because of the kiss that you don't feel strong enough to act offended that he is answering your feelings like that.

"that you have a crush on me." Jihoon almost laughs because if he was being honest, his answer would be that everything doesn't make sense. The hottest girl he ever met just said that she thinks about sitting on his face that doesn't make sense - check. You also said something about riding him, which makes him almost drop dead just remembering that words actually left your mouth, that too doesn't make sense to him - check.

"yeah, no shit jihoon is not that I have the ability to choose whom I fall in love with." Oh fuck, now things are just pilling up at his list and he feels like he is having a stroke or something, he can actually feel his blood on his head.

"love?" he asks

"oh shit." You say, big eyes, surprised face, rose-colored checks.

"love?" Jihoon laughs, and oh god, how you love that sound. You were pathetic, really.

"Yeah, but like I said I'm not saying it twice." And fuck, Jihoon actually looks at you. Hands on your lap, face down, and Jihoon thinks that is not always that you behave like you are ashamed. And something in Jihoon's mind clicks loudly. Maybe that is hard for you, so fucking hard, and Jihoon is just so shocked that he didn't actually thought about it. So he picks himself and put his mind into place.

"Do you remember that time when you just vanished out of the face of the earth on your birthday?" Jihoon asks, taking you out of a mental loop of being ashamed because you just confessed your feelings to your friend. You breathe deeply, remembering the exact day and how Woozi lay in this same bed with you, arms around you and stroking your hair so softly. You remember how his heartbeat soothed you and how he heard you every story of the book 'Why I hate my birthday updated version'.

"Yeah." You answered voice small, which makes Jihoon smile. "you said you were going to the police".

"yeah, I was." Jihoon takes one of your hands and grabs it, bringing it to his lap, making you change positions a bit and making you sit closer to him. "what I am trying to say is that-" he stops and gently caresses your hand. "I am not good at this fuck- what I am trying to say is that since that was the day that I knew that I was in love with you."

"what? That was ages ago." You ask almost like a whisper which makes Jihoon thinks is more a thought than an actual question.

"yeah I guess I feel first" He shrugs, and he probably feels harder, because god how he loved you. Know after saying that to you he kinda feels lighter, like a weight just fell off his back.

"that is crazy," You say, eyes traveling from your hand enveloping by his to Jihoon's face.

"I know." Jihoon gives you a faint smile, somehow he feels a little ashamed, a little guilty that he never really got the courage to tell you before.

"I mean we could be dating for like years now." You say again so faintly and scooting ever close to Jihoon. And you turn your body to him, one of your legs going behind him and he can actually feel your thigh pressed against his back, while the other one is almost on his lap.

"I know" He repeats because he doesn't have an answer and because you feel so close and you feel so hot against him, and if he goes to his highschooler-hormone-controlled mind he can actually look at your cleavage. And oh fuck, he is about to get hard.

"oh my God, we lost so many valentines day together." You say and Jihoon almost laughs because you look so damn cute with that pout on your lips.

"Yeah, we did," Jihoon says, feeling a little relieved that you both just go to the next page of your relationship together, feeling like you two are dating without even having to talk about it or ask you to be his girlfriend, but he makes a note on his head to actually take you on a date.

"And we could go totally together for that trip in Bali if we were dating back then I would make you go with me" You trail off like you always do, and even if Jihoon finds it so endearing he has other thoughts in mind and fuck Bali was not even on his top 10 right now.

"Baby?" jihoon says, catching your attention and making you feel whiplashed again. You could feel physically the pull in your neck. "Can I kiss you? We can totally make vacations plan and staycations plan, but I feel like if I don't kiss you right now, I might die." And oh fuck, seeing Jihoon ask so fucking prettily makes you almost go insane when you look at his pretty mouth, and his lips are chapped even though you gave him one of your lip balm but he never uses it.

But right now, you can't find the strength in yourself to complain to jihoon about how he doesn't take care of his lips. You throw yourself at him, arms going to his neck, fingers going through his hair.

Jihoon thinks that he has a lot of things to write down on his 'don't make sense list'; the way that your lips feel against his - so full and soft; the way that you let out a noise almost like a moan when his tongue enters your mouth; the way that your tongue feels against his or how he can feel your taste just with a kiss. A lot of things don't make sense. But Jihoon stops caring about them when he can feel you pressed against his, boobs pressed against his chest, his hand splayed on your thigh, his other arm going around your waist and trying to bring you closer to him.

"Let me just -" You trail off, making Jihoon chase you, but he gives up really quickly when he realizes he can actually kiss your neck. He gives you an open-mouthed kiss on your jaw, tongue grazing on your skin, and then he turns into your neck. "I just-" you start again but is cut off by Jihoon teeth against your skin. He doesn't bite you, but deep down, you think he could sink his teeth, and you wouldn't care, really. Not when your fingers are in his black hair, not when you change positions and put your leg around him, caging him between your thighs. Jihoon gets out of the crane of your neck and looks at you, lips pink traces of your lip balm, and already looking a little bit puff. His arms go around your waist, holding you against his body.

"Hi" You say, looking at him because of the position, fingers tucking his hair behind his ears, and your inside twist a bit, butterfly on your stomach dancing with the simple action.

"HI." Jihoon answers and gives your boob a peck, right at where your skin and the material of your blouse met. It was just right there, so close, right in his point of view and he couldn't get a hold of himself really, it was the first time that he could actually look at you without getting afraid of getting caught. "God-" He says, almost laughing. "Can I confess something?" Jihoon starts.

He kisses your shoulder, one of his hands leaving your back just so he can bring your blouse down. And Jihoon mind just go haywire really, in a way he feels so free that adds to the things that don't make sense.

The feeling of your body against him, the little hums you let out with every action that he does, how his fingers are gripping the flesh in your hips, the fact that your bobs are right there, or the feel of your thigh against his body just makes him go crazy.

"Like-" Jihoon says, rubbing his face on your cleavage. "Fuck-" He tries again, but the way that your boobs are around his checks, skin so soft, finally bringing down the rest of your sleeve and tracing with his fingertips your cleavage. "I don't want to sound weird, but -" He deposits a faint kiss on you "God how I love your boobs." He says without lips leaving your skin, breath hot against it.

"is not weird." You say. Hands, not leaving his hair, running fingers through it, tugging slightly just to see Jihoon looking at your face not moving. And it is not that weird because god how you feel good hearing it.

"Every time you use that flimsy little blouse I just can't think straight because Im trying my best to not to get fucking hard because of your boobs," He says and sucks the skin, admiring the red blob on your skin.

"Can I?" Jihoon asks tugging slightly at your other sleeve. And he feels anxious for the first time, seeing you like that; disheveled on his lap, shirt almost giving up and showing you bare to him. He can see your nipples poke the flimsy material.

"Yeah," you say, nodding your voice already sounding so gone that you can feel Jihoon's other hand on your hips tighten. Bringing you back to earth, grounding you and securing you in place.

"Fuck you are so beautiful," Jihoon says while he brings down your blouse so damn slowly. Jihoon watches your boobs come to view, and he just gives up on trying to be calm and collected. He splayed both hands on your back to hold you and the shirt scrambled up on your waist and just bring his head in the valley of your breast, breathing hot against your skin. "I jerked off so many times this past couple of days because of you," Jihoon says, and he can feel the blood on his cheeks. He gives your sternum a kiss. "you are always wearing those silly shirts and it's so obvious that you are not wearing a bra." He says, looking at you and feeling literally crazy. Somehow it didn't make sense to him there you were right there, on his lap, boobs out and securing you in place.

"last time I was over? That white shirt?" He looks at you and you almost melt, his voice sounds so deep, and the way he is talking to you makes you twist a little because somehow it just feels different. "it was almost see-through" he says running his fingertip on your skin, making your chest feel oh so thigh. "I could see through it without even trying, and I just wanted to lick you," he says finger dancing still but his touch felt so feather-like that you were certainly going crazy and feeling things. "it almost felt like you were making me lose my mind, making fun of me," he says head against your chest again, looking concentrated watching his own fingers.

"i-" You start swallowing nothing. "I really picked that shirt for you i-" And your brain goes haywire a little. One thing was to confess how you felt but it was an entirely other thing to confess how you were picking every outfit thinking of him trying to make him twitch and look at you the way you have been looking at him. Tell him the efforts you've been doing, the little skirts you brought because you knew he liked in other girls, or wearing the most inappropriate clothing possible just excusing yourself by saying it was in your stay-home-alone pile, even though you were the one asking woozi over and that meant you were very much not alone. "I knew you could see, I wore it for you" you say voice small feeling the urge to hide again.

"fuck-" Jihoon mind freezes, and he asks himself what the fuck is going on. He is sure that his horny-induced brain is conjuring this image up because this is straight out of his spank bank. His hand travels and stops when it arrives in your ribcage, his thumb just below your boobs. "Have you been behaving like this? putting your beautiful tits out for me, sweetheart?" he says in a condescending tone, and you need to secure yourself on his shoulders because you feel like falling.

"yeah i-" You breathe deeply, and he can feel it against his hand. "I only use them with you, or at home or in your studio."

"fuck baby," Jihoon says finally giving up and holding your boobs on both of his hands, and he can feel your nipples hard against his palm. "You have been showing off just for me?"He says, and you just nod because your head is not even right here right now. You feel like you can't even say something because you feel so tongue-tied. "don’t worry I will reward you today"

Jihoon says and kisses your chest so tenderly, and something about the way that he seems so different from your usual Jihoon-friend-experience makes your head spin. The way you never heard his voice says things like that, the way that he is so full of contrast - hands hards against your ribcage, gripping and lips so sweet at your skin, tongue tracing till he found your nipple, and god when you look at him he looks so fucking starved it makes you break again, and you just let him lap at it, lick it, suck it like and act like nothing is enough for him.

And he acts like that because it is not enough for him, really. The way that you feel against him is not enough, the way that you feel against your tongue or the way that he can feel you twist in his arms. Is not enough the little whimper that he can hear you make it, and is not enough the way he can feel you hovering on his lap, and is not enough how he can feel his dick hard on his pants, and the way that everything feels so hot and his clothes are clinging to his skin.

“can you-” you ask between breaths making Jihoon leave your boobs with a pop.

“what?” Jihoon asks, eyes hooded, pupils blown out, panting. You cup his face, head leaning, while one of your hand caress your cheeks the other one grab his shirt.

“can you take this damn shirt off?” You say hands traveling to his neck in search of any amount of skin possible, feeling the need to have his skin against yours, feeling the need to touch him, to feel his firm body that he has been building in the gym. Damn fucking gym really, every time you asked him to a cafe or museum he was going to hit the gym and every time you set him a picture of a cute little coffee shop he would reply with a selfie drenched in sweat, hair fucked up, and face pink like he was now.

"sure baby." he says grabbing the back of his shirt and taking it off, while you finally feel free enough, without his strong arms against you to fully sit on his lap. The action makes Jihoon groans and god you feel already addicted to it, feeling the need to make him feel good. But fuck, you get a little distracted and to be honest a little crazy because Jihoon is just right there, hair messy and all pretty, and it is so unfair and it quite don't feel real.

"god you are so hot," you say and you know that you sound so dumb because woozi just let out a little laugh, but he is right there, pecs out, strong arms, and nice shoulders paired with his abs and he looks so strong and so firm, and you are not the strongest soldier so you just start touching him. Hands grabbing his muscles, fingertips traveling across his collarbones, touching his chest making him quiver when your fingers just brush against his nipple, hands grazing against his abs. you let your head fall, doing the first thing that comes to mind; kiss his collarbone, thinking about how good he would look if you leave marks there but you won't do it because you don't quite know the boundaries, you don't know if he likes it and you don't know his agenda for the next days, so you jump to the next thought, take off his damn jeans, hands tugging at it. "fuck i really want to ride you just like this" you say moving your hips just a little, really, a barely there move, but god the way he reacts to everything makes you feel tight all over, make you feel wetter and make you feel impatient.

"yeah?" Jihoon says and you love how he just accepts every touch you give him, without rushing you up, just letting you explore his body while his hand just leaves imprints on your thighs.

"Mm hm, wanna ride you and keep looking at you." You answer and Jihoon feels like he has never been closer to death before. The way that you say those things sound so resolute like you don't even have a doubt in your brain and that feels Jihoon feels so fucking wanted that he doesn't quite know how to react. Because everything is happening so fucking fast, the way you say those things acting like is not a big deal and Jihoon is not about to just cum on his pants like a teenager. Or how you place your open mouth against his skin, moaning in a low voice while you keep, your hips rolling against his.

"you can do whatever you want with me" Jihoon finally says getting out of his head and sensations. One hand going behind your neck finger spread around it and the other one going to your hips, guiding you, setting a pace, and intensity. "i know will you take me so fucking well" And Jihoon thinks he can crash and burn because everything seems so amplified he might be going crazy.

"why didn't a wear a skirt and you those stupid adidas track thing" You say regretting everything really, the fact that you would have to get out of Jihoon's lap seemed like a tragedy, so you just hugs him, chest against chest, arms against his strong shoulders, Jihoon's hand traveling in your back, you hide your face on his neck, rubbing your face on it and god he smells so good.

"needed to hide the fact that i was getting a boner just looking at your legs baby" Jihoon says sincerely, the last time he didn't actually plan he just had to say he was staying over your sofa - you said nonsense go to the bed which was far worse and he just lied about how he needed to record this thing that popped up on his head before sleeping, again a lie because he mind was empty and the only thing he was thinking about was the fact that you quite didn't button your pajamas all the way. And Jihoon feels quite dumb, saying it all to you, just letting you in every part of his brain, let you know how he wants you. But every time he says something like that your body jumps and you melt on his lap, and somehow the way you touch him makes him feel that you want him just as much so he keeps going.

"fuck now you can get a boner all the time, just go around the house showing your hard on" You say hand squeezing his dick and giving Jihoon a kiss, and it is messy but Jihoon couldn't care less really because your hand continues to grab his dick, going through his length, trying to map it even tho his jeans are thick but fuck Jihoon feels everything. But you finally get out of his lap, hands going to your own shorts, and Jihoon's makes a second mind note, first one - date - nice place, maybe fancy, a restaurant with a nice wine. Second one - next time - take his time to look at you, to really look at you, to just admire you naked and pretty and kiss every part of your body because fuck you look so beautiful right now, boobs out and heavy and Jihoon can see faint traces of his saliva on your body, a trace of him on you, and that just makes him go crazy conjuring up thoughts about make you his.

Jihoon helps you, while you open the buttons and the zip he is already pushing your shorts down because really he wants to go slow, and he wants to treasure it, but he knows this is not happening today. When your short pools around your feet you wish he just toke off your underwear with it because it is not lingerie and is just a simple everyday panty but he has other plans. Jihoon kisses your mound and grabs your ass.

"fuck you are so pretty," He says and he is already playing with the hems of the panty, tongue tracing it. Hands on your ass, holding your body against him. And you can feel your legs wobble, and you can feel the way your panties cling against your skin because they are already damp. And you just feel so empty and so cold without his body against yours, it's unfair really.

"just-" you say tugging his hair trying to get his attention.

"its my turn," Jihoon says still playing with your pants. "you had yours right? just let me play with you a little bit you can be patient" He says looking at you and finally taking your underwear off. And Jihoon feels curious, he wants to know how you are going to react, how you like it, what makes you feel good, and what makes you cum.

"You are pretty all over," He says. "prettiest pussy I've seen" And Jihoon lets his curiosity win so he just bends himself and kisses your pussy, licks at it, tries to discover what you like and how you taste, tongue going between your folders grazing at your clit.

"baby please" You say feeling a little impatient, tugging at his hair, grabbing at his shoulder.

"okay, but you really need to let me eat you out after this." Jihoon says mind resolute, licking his lip. He can wait because one; the option of you sitting on his dick is not even close to bad, two; he has been daydreaming and dreaming about eating you out, he waited for so long that he can wait just a little bit more.

"yeah you can do that later don't worry" you say kissing him on the lips, feeling the faint trace of yourself on his tongue. And you grab his jeans tugging at it. "can you take this damn thing off." And Jihoon laughs getting up so close to you and opening up his pants, and just he looks so good you stare without shame, kiss his chest, and tongue lapping at his nipple. And you feel Jihoon's hand at the nape of your neck, so you use the last of your brain to help him pull his underwear with him.

Jihoon's cock springs free, and fuck you can quite understand him when you feel the urge to put your mouth on him too, the urge to call him pretty too, because he is, dick more on the girthier's side, leaking precum. Jihoon's seat on your bed, legs spread and arms open calling you.

You hover on his lap and you do the only thing that comes to your mind, you lick and spit your own hand and grab Jihoon's dick, feeling it against your hands heavy and hot. And Jihoon thinks it would be rude to not do the same, so he just put his hand against you too, fingertip exploring your folds, just barely tracing your hole and going back to your clit.

"baby i-" You start, feeling a little stupid because Jihoon is holding your thigh, mouthing at your neck, his hands playing with your clit and he dick hard against your hand. "I really need you inside me"

"yeah want me to let you ride it?" Jihoon asks mouth still in your neck, hand still playing with your pussy and the other one grabbing your boobs, pinching your nipple. And you almost lost it.

"did you bring a condom?" you ask him, using the last part of your brain to be a responsible adult.

"no?" Jihoon says freezing. "Wasnt thinking about fucking you" he says. And God yeah, Jihoon didn't ever imagine that he was about to get so fucking lucky today. Pretty girl naked on his lap, pussy wet against his fingers, tiny hand wrapping him, and his hips buckle a bit.

"we are so fucked" You say and you can quite understand how this feels the worst experience of your life because it feels so good. Jihoon's cock against your fold, his cockhead bumping against your clitoris, his strong hands holding your hips so thigh that "i just, I really want to feel you stretching me out" you can feel yourself almost cry.

"don't say things like that, I'm feeling like I'm going insane already," Jihoon says, feeling like everything is arms reach but he can't quite take it. And he feels insane, he feels dumb and fucked up in the head. "just-" He starts, and he wants to do so many things at the same time, so he does what he can, hands going to your ass and squeezing, Mouth going to your tits. "please baby?" He asks, looking at you. "i can pull out, or I can-" He doesn’t really know what he can, he doesn't really know what he wants to do either. His mind is a mess and he is so close to losing it, he can feel him almost tripping "fuck baby i really want to feel you."

"just for a little bit?" You ask and Jihoon almost feels faint when you guide his dick to your entrance and the only thing you need to do is take, is to sit on his cock, and he can buckle up, or he can guide you down he knows he is strong enough for it. But he wants to you to give to him, he doesn't want to take it even tho it would be easier.

"i-" Jihoon breaths. "we don't need to- " He thinks, he wants to, but he doesn't need to if you are not comfortable with him fucking you raw, but god just the thought of it makes Woozi just bust against your daint fingers. "we can stay like this"

"no gosh" he hears you say, and you just do the craziest thing ever, you guide his dick to your pussy, making Jihoon's hand move, so he grabs your hips, and you just hold his dick against your pussy, moving his tip against your folds, the head of his dick going against your clits, and you just start moving your hips. "I mean fuck I think I might cry if you don't let me sit on your cock"

"oh fuck-" you say squeezing his strong arms and trying to anchor you. You continue to chase after it, but is not quite enough.

"I don't need much I swear I'm so close to cumming already," Jihoon begs because he is not above it, and you almost drool, because everything feels so fucking so surreal, because he is there - hair fucked up, lips pink and swollen against your skin, hands gripping you like you are about to vanish and he is trying so hard not to just let you slip out of his fingers.

"what if-" You hiccup. "what if you cum inside" you say already sinking on Jihoon's dick feeling him stretching you out. Feeling him fill you up, making you feel dizzy.

"fuck baby thats feel so good, god-" Jihoon feels his mind spin. "look it at the way you take my dick, fuck, pussy so pretty around me." Jihoon just keep babbling and he could tell he doesn’t know why, but he does - because everytime he says something you react in a way, a moan, a whimper, a buckle of your hips against him, or the way your pussy him thighten. "god you feel so thigh"

"can you-" You say and Jihoon comes to the conclusion that he never heard you sound like that, almost losing it, fucked up with every step a moan because you are bouncing on his dick, pretty around him, boobs jiggleing every minute of it,

"what baby?" he asks it, grabbing one of your bobs and the other one goes to your ass.

"can you touch me" you ask - hips continuing to chase your orgasm, going a little bit harder, a little bit faster, moving your hips against him. And every time you change the way that your hips go against him trying to find a better angle JIhoon feels like his sanity is slipping through his fingers. He is so close, so fucking close, and is not like he can not reach it, he can - he just doesn't want to, he is holding himself back enough because he wants to see you cumming on his dick first.

"i am touching you." Jihoon says holding you even harder. You take his hand that is on your boob and puts it where you want.

"please." you beg, holding his hand against your pussy and that being almost enough to you just cum.

"how can a pussy take my dick so well hun?" Jihoon marvels at it. The way that you look on his lap is out of this world. One hand on his knee, holding yourself up, other hand holding his against your pussy, hair disvelleshed and head leaning backwards. And Jihoon thinks he cant hold himself anymore, he is so close he can almost feel the taste in his mouth, but Jihoon is a nice guy, so even when he is almost cumming in you he is strong enough to take his dick off you, almost crying.

"just put it back in" you say body twitching above him, Jihoon’s hand thigh and strong against his dick and he wants to put back in but-

"baby im gonna cum" Jihoon says and god he sounds so weak, almost giving up and just shoving his dick in you again just to feel how well you take him hot, wet, thigh all over.

"just, fuck" you say when your hips chase him. You put yourself up, arms around Jihoon’s head, pressing him against your chest and again - Jihoon is almost cumming against his hands "don't worry about it ok? we can buy plan b or something, just" You say moving around until you can feel his dick against you "I just really need to cum." you beg, and who is Jihoon to say no to you?

"okay, yeah, okay" Jihoon says breathing against your breath so he just guides his dick to your entrance and laps at your nipples, sucking it, when he can feel you descending on his cock, taking him again, and this time you don't go slow you just pick your pace taking Jihoon’s hand again and guiding to your pussy. And fuck everytime his fingers flick against your clitoris you moan so prettily, or every time he helps you guiding his hips up.

And Jihoon can't take anymore, pretty girl moaning on his lap, tits barely in his mouth because there he is cumming on your warm pussy mouth open against it. And he can feel the way you just go with him when he burst, pussy and body thigh against him, curling your body in his direction and twisting every time he moves his fingers in your pussy because he is cumming but his girls deserve the best treatment so he keeps going - until you take off his hand.

For a few seconds or minutes, Jihoon dont know you two stay like that, bodies connected in a warm embrace until you can feel your body again and get his dick out without actually getting of his lap.

"fuck, look at the mess we made" he says scooping his cum and your juices and fucking it back inside you, because that the only thing he can think off and you twist a little because you are so damn sensitive.

"are we insane?" you ask spent enough.

"just a little." Jihoon’s answer, grabbing your face and giving you a sweet kiss. "I'm so asking for a delivery of plan b and a box of condoms"

#woozi smut #lee jihoon smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #lee jihoon fanfic #woozi fanfic #t: lee jihoon #t: seventeen #t: writting

828 notes · View notes