#right next to it a full length mirror | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostly-imagines · 4 months

Text

Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment.

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs.

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise.

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.”

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God.

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.”

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly.

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face.

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head.

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one.

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess.

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.”

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on.

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed.

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now.

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way.

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly.

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at.

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed.

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?”

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?”

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.”

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas.

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?”

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over.

Nightwing moues at him “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you.

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

vote: do you have a favorite daughter?

❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️

1K notes · View notes

revasserium · 2 months

Note

beloved - Tsukishima and being soft for you and only you

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

beloved

tsukishima; 1,787 words; fluff, established relationship, no "y/n", soft!tsukki, kissing and banter, tsukki being... tsukki

summary: 5 times tsukki is soft just for you and 1 time when he doesn't care that everyone else can see

a/n: this is an ancient req but... welp, here we are! u__u

01.

in the middle of the night, his eyes still marred by sleep and the lack of glasses, when the world is a watercolor haze of shapes and softness — he feels you tug away from where you’d been curled up against his chest, shifting under the blankets. he groans and tries to pull you back.

“kei… what’re you doing?”

“don’t go… i was warm.”

there’s a whine in his voice you’re certain he’s never let anyone else hear before, no one other than you and the silent, watchful moon, swinging low in the mid-autumn night.

“i’ll be right back — i need to pee!”

“well pee quick,” he says, voice gravely from sleep as he shoves his face back into his pillows and tries not to mourn the you-shaped emptiness in the bed next to him. he wonders briefly how he’d lived so many years, slept so many nights just by himself in this bed, his body and no one else’s to keep him warm.

he counts backwards from twenty, knowing that by the time he gets to about seven or six, you’ll be crawling back under the blankets, nuzzling into his side. he gets to eight, seven, six —

“there, see?” you shimmy back into his arms and he sighs a sigh that could be misconstrued as exasperated. but you know him well enough (and he knows you do) to know it’s nothing short of absolute contentment.

“mm. sleep,” is his only mumbled reply as he once again buries his face into the soft bend of your neck and breathes.

02.

out shopping, even though he’d made such a fuss about not wanting to go, about how it’s nothing more than a pointless endeavor and only contributing to the economic monster that is capitalism — but the way you press a sundress to your front in front of a full length mirror, the light in your eyes, the bright smile on your lips — it stirs something inside him. it inspires quiet; it inspires… admiration.

you spin around, laughing, clearly delighted to have caught him staring.

“what do you think? does it look good?”

tsukishima purses his lips, schooling his expression back into a frown as he scoffs and casts his eyes up towards the ceiling.

“’s all the same to me.”

“aw… c’mon, you don’t mean that,” you say, twisting back around to tug at the dress, contemplating if it’s worth trying on.

“sure it is. i mean — i’d like you in whatever, so.”

and silently, he thinks that the way you blush at his words is worth the trip… and all the bags he has to carry along the way.

03.

over strawberry shortcake, with two steaming caramel lattes — you humming happily to yourself as you snap one picture after another of the delicious-looking assortment.

“camera eats first!” you declare, snapping your phone shut and reaching out to pick up a fork. you pause over the petal-pink of the shortcake, decorated with three glistening strawberries, the soft white cream light as clouds.

you bite your lips, “ah… it looks almost too good to eat!”

at this, tsukishima sighs, reaching out to stab straight through a strawberry, despite your squeak of indignation and alarm. he wordlessly presses the strawberry to your lips, smirking to himself as he watches the buttercream smear across your mouth before you have the sense to open it and take a bite.

“mm! it’s good!”

“hn. i’d hope so — it was 2,000 yen.”

tsukishima scopes another bite for himself before pausing, his eyes caught on the languid sweep of your tongue across your lips as you try to catch the remaining cream. and, thoughtlessly, almost as if driven by nothing more than instinct and that strange, animal magnetism, he leans forward to swipe a thumb across your lips, pressing the excess into your mouth.

slowly, you close your mouth around his thumb, and he feels the slight pressure of your tongue against his skin. he swallows; you suck, letting his thumb go with a slip pop that leaves tension swelling in his chest like an overfilled balloon.

later, caught just outside the cafe, with his fingers curling into your hair, tilting your head up to meet his — tsukishima thinks that there are some things, perhaps like the strawberry shortcake, too lovely to devour. and then — there are some things, perhaps like your lips, entirely too lovely not to.

04.

after practice, when the moon hangs heavy in the mid-summer sky and the cicadas are singing loud enough to shake loose the stars — tsukishima leans back against your legs, his head falling into your lap as you reach down to slip off his glasses.

“so… how was the training camp?” you ask, tracing your index finger along the high bridge of his nose.

“tiring. the little orange dolt thought it’d be a good idea to break in —”

“break… in?”

“yeah, he just showed up and — i dunno — prayed that no one would notice that he wasn’t invited. idiot.”

your laughter is summer-sweet and full-bellied, and it has you tipping back on your couch with your fingers still tangled in tsukishima’s slightly shower-damp hair.

“it’s — it’s not funny!” tsukishima twists around, frowning hard enough for you to burst into another fit of giggles, reaching forward to run your thumbs along the ridges between his furrowed eyebrows.

“i mean… i think it’s pretty hilarious. that takes balls, doesn’t it?”

tsukishima huffs, swiveling back around, shoulders hunched as he grabs for the remote and clicks on the tv, switching through channels at light-speed. his glasses lay forgotten on the sofa next to you.

“or he’s just too stupid to think about the consequences.”

you reach forward with an indulgent smile, looping your arms around his wide shoulders.

“oh, c’mon… cut him some slack. not everyone can be as tall, handsome, and talented as you are, right?” you say, nuzzling into his cheek even as he swats half-heartedly at you.

“quit it.”

you giggle, hugging him all the tighter until he spins around, pinning your wrists above your head with a speed not usually associated with someone of his height. he hovers over you, his head cocked to one side.

“oh yeah? and what’re you gonna do for your tall, handsome, talented boyfriend to make him feel better after such a stressful day at camp, hm?”

you hiccup, lashes fluttering as he bears down over you.

“i — ts-tsukki —!”

“hn. wrong answer — two more chances.”

you press your lips and glare at him with what you hope is a reproachful air. tsukishima only smirks, shaking his head even as he bends down to press into your space, your chests pressed, his body covering yours and then some. his lips brush the lobe of your ear and he revels in the way you shiver.

“fine line between stupidity and courage, i’d say… don’t you agree?”

05.

before the game with shiratorizawa, with his brand new glasses, and his head bowed low.

“don’t be scared,” you say, reaching down to link his fingers with yours. they’re so long, so strong. the palms peppered with calluses.

tsukishima scoffs, “i’m not scared.”

you smile, rocking up onto your very tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. luckily, tucked behind a large column, around the corner to a deserted corridor, no one is there to see.

“you’re not a very good liar,” you say, falling back onto your heels, peering up at him as he stares down at you with slightly narrowed eyes. then, he bends forward to trap you against the column, his breath hot along your lips.

“and you’re gonna make me late for warmups.”

he pulls back at the last second, leaving you breathless. but the smile that dangles from his lips is less sanctimonious than usual. he reaches up and flicks at your forehead when you make no move to follow him.

“i’m not scared, i’m nervous. but… i guess seeing you in the stands would make that a bit better.”

you bite down on your bottom lip, linking your hands behind your back.

“well then, what are we waiting for?”

06.

after the shiratorizawa match, when everyone is still running high on adrenaline, puffy-eyed with happiness, you bound down to meet him, skidding to a halt just outside the giant gymnasium doors. there are bandages on his fingers and sweat dripping down the tip of his nose.

his cheeks are pink with exhaustion, but his eyes are clear and bright and wanting.

“guess you didn’t have any reason to be nervous after all,” you say, trotting up to meet him as the rest of the team parts around the pair of you like water around a river rock. yamaguchi glances over his shoulder even as he herds hinata and kageyama away, the pair bickering over this or that.

tsukishima crinkles his nose, but his eyes narrow at the sight of the redness beneath your eyes. he reaches up his uninjured hand to trace along the dried tear-tracks along your cheeks.

“what’re you crying for?”

you sniffle, shooting him a glare.

“just because you weren’t scared doesn’t mean i wasn’t either — but you won — so that’s all that —”

he quiets you down with a kiss, standing there, in the open gymnasium hallways, the chattering of hundreds of students ebbing around you both. distantly, you can swear you hear tanaka whoop, only to be cut short by what sounds like sugawara smacking him painfully upside the head.

tsukishima frowns as he pulls back, “y’know… i’d prefer if your mind wasn’t on other things when i kissed you.”

“wh-what — i wasn’t —”

his lips thin into his trademark smirk as he tugs your chin towards him with two fingers, his hold more gentle than it looks.

“hm… seems like you’re not a very good liar either but… guess i don’t really mind that much.”

your retort dies on your lips as he leans down again, and this time, you don’t think about how the pair of you are still standing in the middle of a very visible hallway, how people are probably starting to stop and stare.

this time, you kiss him back like nothing else matters in the world except for his lips and how perfectly soft they are on yours.

845 notes · View notes

wyvernest · 1 year

Text

bright red lust

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!trophy wife! reader

warnings: smut, car limo sex, misogynistic undertones (reader feels good about being a trophy wife), pda, teasing, dryhumping, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl

summary: you attend a gala with miguel and tease him until he finally gets you to himself in his limo

translation: "que rico" = 'how nice'

Any woman’s dream is to be his wife. For his rank, his money, his reputation, his everything. And it feels so good to know that he's so desired.

Because you’re at his side, not them. It’s you whom he spends his money on. It’s you whom he buys all the exquisite dresses and gowns for, all the best things you could ever want or need. It’s you whom he makes love to after a tiring day. Or after you wake up. Or anytime, for that matter.

You’re irreplaceable, but at the same time at his disposal. You don’t see it as a price paid but rather as a bonus. You’ve never been pampered so good before, loved so good, fucked so good.

So that’s why, whenever he has a new gala or special event to attend, you let him pick your dress out of all the various selections you spend so much time on finding.

“Too long.” he dismisses, vision darting from your mauve-satin covered legs to your face. He’s manspreading on the king size bed of your presidential hotel room, hair dishevelled and half lidded eyes sleepy, relaxed.

“You’re so picky today. I only got a few more!” You giggle with a faux offended expression. Behind the façade of worry that he won’t be satisfied with any of the looks, you secretly love these little fashion runaway sessions, feeling like his own personal top model, trying out different outfits for him. If you weren’t in a hurry, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit on his lap and accidentally grind your ass on his crotch when you got up as part of the little show.

“Mm.” He hums, seemingly unaffected by your playful frustration. He knows you love it when he acts so pretentious and superior, but he loves you, and he loves the enthusiasm with which you show him everything. “Next, bebita. This one’s sombre.”

After a few minutes and struggles, you manage to pull on the pièce de résistance; a bright, blood-red skin tight satin dress. Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of you, brows raised in silent approval and admiration. The length isn’t a problem this time, your beautiful legs and thighs peeking out with every step through the long slit on the right. The fabric is wrapped so deliciously around your breasts, slightly pushing them up together, plump and tantalising.

"Maybe this one's a bit too much? I-"

"Do a 360." His eyes lit up, attentive and pleased. You twirl, making sure to slightly stick your ass out, checking yourself out in a full body mirror nearby.

"Me gusta." He gets up from the bed, gripping your waist to place a needy kiss on your cheek, before placing his lips on your own. You take his face in your hands, melting into his embrace. “This is the one.” His deep, low whisper sends shivers up your spine, your brain short circuiting. Who are you to say no to him? To those pretty, dark brown, red-tinted eyes?

"I'm gonna go get ready now. Thank you, papi." You turn around, yelping as he doesn't miss the opportunity to smack your ass as you do, smirking to himself.

When you finally arrive at the gala, you get out of your limo and start flaunting your exquisite dress, proud and flashing. You feel Miguel instantly cling to you, a secure, strong hand on your waist, its touch fervent and possessive.

He doesn’t fail to notice all the other spiders gawk at you, turning their heads too sharply just to catch a glimpse of his beautiful wife. All the lingering looks, the whispered words of admiration, all for you. The hand on the dip of your waist tenses, both in immeasurable pride and a hint of stinging jealousy. But it felt amazing.

All the comments, the remarks.

“Can’t believe he pulled such a pretty thing.”

“Imagine coming home at the end of the day to her.”

“Maybe being the leader of Spider-Society has its perks.”

They thought he wouldn’t ever hear them, but his enhanced senses have little to no limits. He feels his pants slightly tighten at the thought that so many other men want you. And yet, it’s his cock that you beg for, late at night.

And you’re aware of this weakness of his. You know that showing everyone that you’re his gets him hard in no time. And as the brat you are, you can’t help it. Especially not when all eyes are on you two. Not when the paparazzi’s come in.

You run a cursory hand from his chest to his abdomen, arching your back, pretty figure on display for the pictures. Bolder. Your hand finds his cheek, his jaw, your eyes never leaving him. You enjoy feeling like an accessory, something that accentuates him, his masculinity. Something that belongs to him.

No other man has ever made you feel this way.

You gesture to him to lean down, your heels still not enough for you to be able to reach his face without his aid. He does, and you place a tantalising peck on his cheek, light enough so that your bright lipstick doesn’t transfer.

Feeling him stiffen, unsure of your teasing, you decide to risk it and lean your face down to the crook of his neck.

Hundreds of photographs flash as you kiss his neck, your soft lips lingering just a second too late, only for a red print to remain plastered on his skin, for everyone to see.

He turns to you with an expression worth a thousand words. You know that face all too well.

As soon as you get back in the limo following the after-party, you wave good-bye to all your acquaintances and friends. The driver takes a turn and exits the flash-lit area.

Turning to look at Miguel, any conversation or small talk on the event you just attended gets smushed into a heated kiss you both longed for, his hands on your hips, pulling you into him on the back seat, your arms thrown over his shoulders.

When he grabs your thigh, you waste no time in lifting your leg over his waist, straddling him without breaking away from the kiss.

His warm hands slide underneath the red satin, grabbing at the globes of your ass greedily. You start grinding on him, your damp panties rubbing onto his erection in his pants.

Your breasts nearly pop out of your dress during the hazy make out session, and he parts from your lips to start kissing down your neck, stealing a glance down at them. Throwing your head back, your body turns into putty in his strong arms. He licks and kisses at the delicate skin of the tops of your tits, slowly and reflexively grinding up into your heat.

You moan his name, your breathing getting heavy.

He knows that having you in risky places only makes you even wetter for him, and he can't get enough.

"Ah! Oh- Miguel!" You whimper as a heavy hand smacks your ass, making you jerk forward into him, your tender body smushed against him so perfectly.

"Here? Are you sur-"

"Here, yes." Hot, shallow breaths fan your neck as he speaks in between kisses and gentle bites. "Can't wait any longer."

Your hands fumble with his belt and he quickly rips your panties at the seam, making a hole over your slit. Panting and rushing, you pull his hard, meaty cock out and align it with your dripping cunt. You feel him slip into you, nice and slow, filling you up with the familiar euphoria you have craved so ardently for the whole night.

He groans as he enters you, wet, warm and tight. Just when you were getting adjusted to his size, the limo goes over a speed bump and his cock thrusts up into you with the turbulence, its bulbous tip kissing your cervix.

You feel him deep in your guts, and as you begin riding him, he starts to buck his hips up into you, making you see stars.

"Que rico", he pants out, whispered, "having a pretty thing like you all over me." He

Keeping the thrusts quick and shallow, so as not to make your shenanigans too obvious, you bounce yourself on his cock; at first for his pleasure alone. Seeing him drowned in ecstasy will eventually being you your own pleasure as well.

All until he brings a hand to your swollen clit, rubbing furiously, throwing you over the edge in mere seconds. You come all over his dick, eyes rolling back, his name falling off you tongue in a strangled moan, sweet music to his ears.

He feels your pussy pulsate oh so deliciously around his cock, and it doesn't take him much longer to also release his load in your velvet walls, painting your insides white, claiming you as his.

As soon as he comes down, catching his breath, he smothers you with another fierce kiss, groaning into your mouth as you stir with his still sensitive cock inside you.

"We should do this again sometime, Mr. O'Hara." You tease, your lips straying away to nibble at his pulse point.

"Oh, we will, bebita."

divider by @cafekitsune as always

a/n: finally wrote this 7 mesozoic eras after it was requested sorry man

6K notes · View notes

mactavishsgfandwife · 6 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley and His Poorly Girl 🩹

i have tonsillitis right now and i feel so tired out, i’m purely writing this to make myself feel better

a short one

fluff with 1 sex reference, not proofread

"Baby…" he mumbled, eyes closed, reaching a chunky arm across the bed towards you - but he doesn’t find you next to him.

Instead, you’re sitting in front of the full-length mirror in your shared bedroom, staring at your reflection defeatedly. Only half awake, a warm blanket is wrapped around your shoulders to keep you comfy.

Quietly, trying not to disturb him, you apply your mascara only to accidentally get it in your eye - you try to fix it up, but with your eyes watering it’s hard to see clearly. Soft ruffling from the bed takes your attention, your wet eyes turning to meet Simon’s.

"Come t’bed…" he grumbles, not quite noticing your downtrodden expression, "need y’, c’mere." Seeing Simon in the mornings is funny - his tone a little needier than he’d like to admit, slight grumpy and clingy, always needing to wrap his arms around you and not so subtly rock his hips against your thigh. He just needs to be near you.

"’ve got work," you turn back to the mirror, voice croaky and quiet. Cool air from outside the window seeps into the room, making all your hairs stand up on end. Your fiancé sits up in bed, ruffling his short blonde hair as he wakes up a little. As he moves, the soft bedsheets fall down to his hips, uncovering his warm chest - he’s strong, really strong, but also big, with a little fat cushioning his abs and his strong biceps. An unfairly tempting sight when it’s 6:30am and you have a job to do. :(

"You alright, love?" he places a broad hand behind his head as he stretches.

"Sick," you sniffle, looking a little pathetic in the corner of the room with a blanket wrapped around you and a cup of Lemsip on the floor.

"What the hell are y’working for?" he chuckles, lifting up the bedsheet to let you climb under it, "come t’me, baby." His voice is softer, empathetic - partly, he’s doing it to convince you to come and cuddle, but he’s also doing it because he can see how sickly you are and just wants to make you feel better.

"Can’t…" you whine, removing that mascara so you can just start over. God, makeup is a pain in the ass.

"Y’look like you’re about t’drop dead, you should call in sick."

"Nooo…" you frown, "I don’t want to get in trouble again."

"Hey, here," he sits on the edge of the bed and pats his lap, wrapping his warm arms around you as you sit down on it.

"Mmph…" you mumble, lamenting how easily you slip into his arms. This is only making things harder than they have to be.

"D’you even like that job?"

"Not really."

"I’m not letting you leave this house. Let me look after you," he pats your hip, nuzzling his face into yours.

"But, but-"

"Get in," he orders, almost commanding. All too easily, you give in, rolling under the sheets with him. The little pout on your face is only a surface-level protest, he knows you’re internally rejoicing.

"Poor girl," he coos, wrapping his arms around you and slowly rubbing up and down you back, all the while listening to your little groans.

"Thank you…" you mumble, nuzzling up to him.

"Shhh, you’ll lose yer voice too," he pats your head. "Stay ‘ere, let me go get a hot water bottle."

You wrap your hand around his arm, tugging him back as he tries to get up. On any usual day he would have just chuckled and pulled away from you - you hands don’t even reach all the way around his bicep - but today he leant back down you your level, letting you keep your tight grasp on him.

"You don’t want one?" he holds on to your hand, slowly caressing your knuckles with his thumb.

"Want you," you pout, "please."

"Little weirdo," he grins, climbing back into bed with you and pulling you onto his chest, "whatever you say, Mrs."

Gratefully, you wrap your arms around him and cuddle as close as you can get. God, he feels so warm. <3

thanks for reading :3

masterlist

1K notes · View notes

dollyyun · 5 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

SYNOPSIS: Final exams are approaching, and you have every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decide that it's a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week. Initially, you feel disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but eventually, you allow yourself to relax and enjoy the night. However, some the invited guests, including you, have no notion of what the devil's knights' goal is for this year's Halloween. From the moment you begrudgingly agreed to go to the event, you were fucked because you had no idea what truly awaited you ─ you had no idea how your life would take a drastic turn, especially when you had become their prey.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 18.8k

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, dramas, profanities, degradation, slut-shaming, alcohol consumptions, groping, slapping, crying, sexual assault, explicit themes, one sex scene, voyeurism, coercion, blood, violence, murder, toxicity, perversion, corruption.

PLAYLIST: No Hands - Waka Flocka, Tonight - Big Bang, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Animals - Maroon 5, Disturbia - Rihanna, guilty conscience - Tate McRae.

NEXT (PART 2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

Standing in front of a full-length mirror, your reflection stares at you with an abundant clarity of irresolution, mirroring the inner turmoil within you. Your eyes begin to scan your appearance from head to toe in incredulity. Never in your twenty-one years of life have you ever dressed as provocatively as you are now. Heck, you don’t even recognise yourself.

The white cami bodycon corset dress feels tight as it accentuates your curves and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under.

You're not the type to critique people for how they dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but right now? You practically look like a slut. A slutty angel, at that.

Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends, slash roommates, decided to buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had also chosen for you ─ an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.

When your gaze finally settles on the silver cross pendant that rests delicately on your chest, guilt coils in your stomach, and your moment of prior incertitude manages to render you completely disheartened while your eyes turn crestfallen.

What were you thinking? You’re supposed to live up to the code as expected of you, including to avoid dressing indecently and act with grace. But here you are, all dolled up with excessive skin revealing, and you still refuse to recognise that the person staring back at you is indeed you.

If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you for dressing the way you are now.

Your parents, particularly your mother, are quite religious and strictly abide by the rules and codes of Christianity. However, your parents’ love and devotion to the religion were something you truly adored. Growing up, your parents often brought you to the church along with them, and you recall getting so excited at the sight of the familiar divine building situated in your neighbouring area that you even rushed to greet the priest eagerly. Every member of the church recognised you, and they would always warmly welcome you and your family, especially when your parents were regulars.

You were loved by them. As a matter of fact, you’ve been called ‘angel’ by them because of your kind and sweet disposition, how helpful you were whenever someone asked you for assistance, how obedient you were whenever you were told to do something, and how you resonated with people by how naturally sympathetic you were.

Everyone used to tell your parents how blessed they were to have you as their daughter. Your parents agreed and often thanked the Lord for blessing them with a daughter like you. Not only did you follow your parents’ example in the religion, but you had also been bestowed with the gift of being naturally smart since you were young until now. Truly, you were blessed, and each morning when you woke up, you didn’t forget to thank the Lord.

However, as you take in your appearance once more, your guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this? You shake your head, taking a step back. This is not you. You should have never agreed to this in the first place.

Furthermore, final exams are approaching, and you had every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decided that it was a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week.

Initially, you felt disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but upon relentless pursuit of being coaxed by your best friends, you eventually found yourself caving in. Besides, you can’t deny that there is a small part of you that has always wanted to experience a college party since you have never been to one.

However, just because you have never been to one doesn’t mean that you have no idea what a college party entails. You have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nonetheless, you offered to help them by assisting them in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.

A knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes remain on the mirror while they trail to a familiar face from behind. She looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which matches her theme, which is that she is a cowgirl.

“Hey, Yunjin.” You greet her rather weakly.

Yunjin, as enthusiastic as ever, offers you a smile, displaying her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?”

Usually, you would reciprocate, as her smiles are infectious, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you remain crestfallen. “No. I don’t think I’m up for it anymore.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and that is also when Yunjin’s smile drops as she finally notices how crestfallen you look.

You don’t lift your head up, even as you hear her footsteps from behind. You feel her hands on your bare shoulders, turning you around and tilting your chin up with her fingers. Your eyes reluctantly meet her hazel-hued ones, which are tinged with resolution.

“I know that you are having doubts about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinges with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to.

Hun Yunjin, otherwise known as Jennifer, has been your childhood best friend, albeit not enrolled in the same elementary and high schools. She is an international business major. You met her when you first started to attend Sunday services at your neighbouring church. You recall sitting next to her and randomly engaging in a conversation with her, despite the fact that you two were not supposed to drift off to your own mini-world. You thought you would never see her again, but the next Sunday service proved you wrong. From there, you and Yunjin formed a newfound friendship, and you declared that she was your church buddy. That remained constant until you two hit sixteen, and you didn’t see her as regularly as before.

Just like that, you lost contact with her, and subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly, but you were overjoyed when she welcomed you with a bear-crushed hug and told you how much she had missed you.

The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did come to your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, and more importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.

In return, you muster a faint smile on your pink, glossed lips. “You always have a way with words.” You say before releasing a soft sigh. “Fine, I’m ready.”

Yunjin’s firm exterior cracks, and her red lips curl into a grin. “That’s my girl.”

“Girls! Are we ready to go─” A gasp pulls you away from Yunjin’s eyes, and when you look at a familiar figure standing by the door to your room, you become in awe of how alluring she looks with her theme, dressed up as a catwoman.

“You look amazing, Karina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether she is indeed real.

Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Karina in the first few semesters. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a mess was expected from her, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter to the shared living room. You’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapprove of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering your complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you. From then on, she began nitpicking you, and you often found yourself in a dispute with her. You got upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring.

Precisely two years ago, you found her alone in the living room, at three a.m., as she was drinking her heart out with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes red. You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, and surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend.

You listened attentively to her, and you even offered comforting words to her in which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth.

You swore that Karina would return to her usual self, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a newfound sense of camaraderie.

“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile, while you detect sincerity in her tone. “I’m proud to declare that my taste in fashion is impeccable.”

“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks flush in pink from their fond gazes on you. “Our girl looks like a literal angel. If I were gay, I would have hit you up long ago.”

Before you can say anything, a new yet familiar voice joins in the conversation. “I know I agreed for Y/N to join us, but after some thought about it, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your eyes shift from Karina to the tall, raven-haired beauty next to her. Once again, you are captivated by her beauty and how truly stunning her overall fit is, in which her theme is a mermaid, and you are not exaggerating when you say that she looks like a literal mermaid goddess.

“Why do you think so, Wonyoung?” Yunjin asks with a frown.

Jang Wonyoung, one of the university’s it girls and the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your dorm. You were captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the two of you are in the same major and in the same classes, but you found it peculiar how fast you got along well with her during your first week as freshmen. Nonetheless, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.

Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you can’t deny the fact that you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung. The two of you understand each other, even without words. Both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without any hidden jealousy or ill-feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.

Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to affirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “Besides, it’s an all-exclusive event for invited guests only.”

“So? We can easily sneak Y/N in since there will be tons of guests.” Karina shrugs her shoulders. “Their bouncers are kind of sloppy anyway. Remember when some of the uninvited students sneaked in last year and the years before that?”

“And what did that lead to?” Wonyoung counters firmly with a single eyebrow arched. This time, silence befalls Karina while you notice Yunjin’s grim expression.

“What happened?” You ask, finally speaking up. There is no denying how intrigued you are by the sudden yet discernible change in the air between your best friends.

“There is nothing that you need to concern yourself with.” Yunjin is quick to recover herself as she shoots you a charming grin while nudging her elbow against yours. “Come on. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive.”

“Maybe. But at least we’ll arrive fashionably late.” Karina mirrors Yunjin's grin.

You decide to push aside your curiosity and proceed to grab your phone while Karina and Yunjin have already made their way out of your room. After adjusting your wavy locks in the mirror, you turn around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains as serious as ever.

“Are you sure about this?” She asks you, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften.

“Yes.” Although you sound sure, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach. Giving her a tight smile, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “If you’re too worried about me, rest assured that I won’t stray from you.”

“Good.” Wonyoung seems a tad satisfied with your statement. A small smile appears on her pink lips. “Maybe I am worrying about nothing. This is supposed to be your first ever Halloween party. We should be having fun! That is as long as we stick together.”

You smile wryly in return. She knows better than anyone that your idea of fun consists of rotting in bed and reading a few good books on a Friday night.

When you first heard of Devil’s Night, you had an inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, was undoubtedly not good news.

Devil’s Night is an annual Halloween event that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of devil’s knights, but according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of Devil’s Night are the four leaders. However, you see them all the same ─ just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert dominance over Crestview Meadows University everywhere they go.

Naturally, you expected the location of the event to be a frat member’s backyard, but as soon as Karina, who volunteered to drive the three of you to Devil’s Night, presses on the pedal gas and prompts her vehicle to move forward after the golden gates opened, your jaw goes slightly unhinging at the sight of a divine modernization palace.

As Karina continues to drive, searching for an empty spot to pull over on the massive asphalt where different vehicles are arrayed, you are busily getting enthralled by the captivating structures of fountains in the front yard. The movement of people making their way to the entrance of the grand palace captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle in amazement at the diversity in their costume designs.

As soon as Karina manages to pull over at an empty spot and turns off the ignition, you step out of her vehicle with your eyes remaining fixated on the divine palace. You swear that it is nearly as massive as your campus. You begin to wonder who resides in the palace, and if so, has Devil’s Night always been hosted here?

“Y/N, don’t forget your mask.” Wonyoung’s voice from behind pulls your attention away from the palace. When you look at the white domino mask in her grasp, you gladly retrieve it from her and attempt to wear it, but Wonyoung and even Yunjin insist on assisting you, doing so with care.

Your cheeks flush pink once more. Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and your other friends often baby you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill-intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support. There are moments where you do feel overwhelmed by them, but according to their words, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Hence, they often shelter you from the cruelty of reality and want you to remain the way you are.

Pure, and a literal saint.

“There!” Yunjin gives you a grin as she pats your cheek affectionately. “With your mask, it’ll be hard for anyone outside of our circle to recognise you.”

As the four of you begin to make your way to the entrance of the grand palace, with Wonyoung interlocking her arm around yours, your fingers make their ascent to touch your mask. Your best friends have agreed that, in order to sneak in seamlessly, you needed a mask to conceal half of your identity. They wouldn’t want to risk anything. A part of you wonders what would happen to the uninvited guests crashing into the event, but another part of you retains your curiosity before it gets the best of you.

At the moment, as the bunch of you walk past the bouncers standing by the entrance, you hold your breath while your heart pounds against your chest, but when they allow you in, you release a relieved yet shaky breath. You feel Wonyoung’s arm squeezing around you in reassurance, and you voluntarily relax every tension in your body, but your heart remains pounding. You can’t ignore the turmoil within you, uncertain of what the night will entail.

“You guys made it!” A high-pitch squeal diverts your attention from admiring the opulence of the palace’s interior to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather gorgeously instead of terrifying. Her eyes instantly meet yours, and her face beams with a widening smile. “You came!”

You don’t have time to process when she crashes into you, her arms latching around your figure and steadying you while chuckles elicit from you as you reciprocate her eager hug. “You’ve just seen me yesterday, Winter.”

Winter, who also majors in journalism, is a part of the inner circle and your friend. She is like a bolt of lightning. Despite her ebullient disposition, she can be fierce and intimidating when needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t believe that you’re actually here!” This time, another voice causes you to look at the sight, and at once, the rest of the inner circle has gathered around you, giving you hugs and gushing over your look.

In your line of sight are Kazuha, Chaewon, Liz, Rei, Giselle, and Ningning. Whereas Kazuha and Chaewon are majoring in arts and entertainment management, Liz, Rei, and Ningning are majoring in economics. Giselle, on the other hand, is in the same major as you. Despite the fact that all of them are highly regarded as the it girls of the university, not once have they ever left you out and made you feel an outcast, especially considering that most of the student body dislikes you for reasons you deem ridiculous.

So what if they hate you just because you are not from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because in the end, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0 and your professors favour you most. Plus, your future is all set.

“Okay, ladies, gather around." Yunjin announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from you and your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.” You insert yourself strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, mainly because your safety is highly regarded by them.

“It’s for your own good, Y/N.” Wonyoung tells you softly after noticing the expression on your face as soon as they begin to disperse while you remain by her side, dragging you with her. Wonyoung and your other best friends seem to know their way around the palace, pushing their way through the bustling crowd.

“You girls really don’t have to worry about me.” You remain adamant while reluctantly allowing yourself to be dragged by Wonyoung. Your eyebrows furrow, and your lips form a small pout. “I know how and when to steer clear of trouble.”

“I know, but you have to understand that this is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign.

Still, you mutter, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear, “What is so different about a mere Halloween party?”

“It is different because each Halloween hosted by the devil’s knights differs from the previous Halloween.” Karina answers, and when you look into her eyes, uncertainty shines through. “Really, we can never predict what they have up their sleeves. But one thing that remains constant is the fact that Devil’s Night is not meant for any faint of heart.”

“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a certain bite in Wonyoung’s tone.

“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as she is in our sight.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung once more, and your attention drifts to the scenery before you.

It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, and now you find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the palace. As a matter of fact, the club looks lavish, with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which makes your face twist in a grimace. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue.

Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of how you look as eyes latch onto your form.

“Am I showing too much skin?” You ask Yunjin in a whisper as you settle next to her, seated on a high stool.

Yunjin’s eyes scan all over you before she gives you a smirk. “Yeah, but don’t worry. You look absolutely stunning. It’s a shame that you’ve been gatekeeping your beautiful complexion and your curves all this time.”

“Agreed!” Karina chimes next to Yunjin, casting you a mirthful grin. “You should be flaunting your curves and proving to those fuckers who insulted you for the way you looked that underneath your layer of clothes is the body of a model!”

You dismiss the profanity that left Karina’s mouth, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You girls flatter me too much.”

“It isn’t flattery when it is true.” Yunjin flags down one of the bartenders to give him her order before she looks back at you. “Do you want a non-alcoholic beverage?”

“Actually, I’d like to try an alcoholic cocktail.” Your statement surprises your best friends as they look at you with wide eyes, knowing that you have never drunk any alcoholic beverages. After all, you are practically a saint.

“Are you sure?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”

“Don’t discourage her, Wony.” Karina says with a disapproving frown on her lips. “If Y/N says she wants one, she will have one.”

“A tequila sunrise for the angel here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the guy who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make all of your orders.

As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band. You can’t deny that the music seems to be getting to you, and seeing the partygoers dancing and having fun tempts you to join them.

Unknowingly, your lips curve into a small smile. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you closely with a sharp gaze just near the bar, where there are velvet couches arrayed.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunjin pushes the glass of cocktail towards you as you look down at the liquid, which is a vibrant blue.

Your fingers latch onto the stem of the glass, raising it just slightly while hesitation touches your tongue. Your best friends watch in anticipation, and you don’t want to disappoint them. So you bring the edge of the glass closer until your lips touch.

You tip your head towards the back as you begin to take sips of the liquid. Surprisingly, the taste isn’t as bad, and neither is it too strong. It is rather addictive, so you eagerly drink the rest of the content until there is nothing left.

“How’s your first drink?” Wonyoung asks as she examines you carefully.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that is starting to affect your system, but you feel oddly elated. You give your best friend a grin, with your dimples appearing on your cheeks. “I think I would like to have another.” Of course, Karina and Yunjin are more than eager to indulge you, while Wonyoung remains neutral.

Once again, unbeknownst to you, the same pair of eyes that have been watching you closely are enthralled by the new sight of you.

Seated leisurely on the velvet couch with his legs spread, his lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his vodka while his eyes remain fixated on your enticing figure and your angelic features.

You have no idea how things escalated. Just moments ago, you were having fun with your best friends by the bar, and even Wonyoung lowered her guards after seeing how genuinely carefree you looked. Now, you are among the bustling crowd. You lose sight of your best friends as you venture further. Instead of panicking, you find yourself enjoying it with your body instinctively moving to the infectious rhythm in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system that has completely intoxicated you and renders you slightly tipsy, as evident by the way you emit giggles and how you’re dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single thought of regret appears in your mind.

Feeling a tad annoyed by your domino mask, you rashly remove it, not caring whether someone may or may not recognise you. Besides, the people in your vicinity seem too inebriated to care, as they dance and even make out lewdly in the open with their partners.

A part of you is berating you for losing yourself in the abysmal of this toxicity, but you shut down that part of you, giving into the whispers of the devils and succumbing to the addictive thrill by allowing yourself to flaunt your moves.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you as he gradually makes his way to you despite the bustling crowd, and the moment they see him, they part and make way for him. The way you move got him in a trance, especially with each sway from your body. Your curves, which your skimpy dress accentuated, entice him to place his hands all over you.

Your giggles sound melodious to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your glossed lips.

Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you where he gets undoubtedly turned on by. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your insatiable taste probably won’t satisfy him unless he has you locked in his possession.

Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling with the sensation of your warmth. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, dancing along to the supposedly stranger behind you.

You allow him to pull you closer until your buttcheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, yet you don’t stop dancing. You accidentally grind yourself against him, eliciting a low groan from him with his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist.

In your delirium, you tilt your head up and lean on his shoulder lazily, allowing him to guide your movements. His strong cologne is intoxicating as it infiltrates your senses. You hear his low, ragged breaths next to your ear before you feel him dipping his head to the curve of your neck, his nose burying in your skin as he inhales your sweet scent that he has engraved in his mind.

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. You blame it entirely on the alcohol.

“You taste exquisite, love.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering. But you swear you recognise his voice. You feel his arms tighten around you, while the way he nips at your skin startles you.

In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. The entire place is dim, but the LED red and purple lights allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes.

“Jake.” You utter his name in a daze while your eyes begin to shamelessly scan his overall fit. You hate to admit it, but he nearly got you foaming in the mouth.

He looks extremely good in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven strands have been styled impeccably, tempting you to run your fingers through them. Your eyes catch a sight of an inked tattoo on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low.

You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels muddled in your mind, but you are conscious enough to continue dancing with him with a hint of sensualness.

Jake unfurls a soft smirk on his pink plump lips while he blatantly checks you out, appreciation and lust dancing in his handsome gaze. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Surprised?” You feel oddly breathless, and you have no idea whether it’s from the dancing or the palpable tension between the two of you.

Jake hums attractively, his fingers tapping sensually on your waist to the beat of the ongoing music, and when you finally notice his gaze that settles on your cleavage, heat weaves across your cheeks.

“A lovely surprise at that.” Jake says in a murmur, dipping his head and leaning towards you while your pulses go erratic in anticipation, but he stops right next to your ear. The tip of his nose grazes lightly on your earlobe, sending you involuntary shivers down your spine. “But you shouldn’t have come here.” As he whispers lowly in your ear, you detect a hint of darkness in his tone.

“Why? Because I’m an uninvited guest?” You ask breathlessly, hating and loving how his intoxicating cologne tempts you to bury your nose into his chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses a deep, sensual kiss on your cheek before withdrawing from you to get a good look at your face. Upon seeing how dazed you truly look, he smirks once more and squeezes his hands on the flesh of your hips. “Cute.” He mumbles. His eyes flicker down to your glossed lips, which entice him to kiss you, but he holds himself back.

“You should leave while you still can, love.” He mutters, reluctantly releasing you from his possession and already yearning for your warmth.

“Y/N!” You hear voices that belong to your best friends calling for you from behind. You look over your shoulder just in time to catch glimpses of their faces amongst the dancing crowd.

When you turn back, Jake is nowhere in your line of sight, bringing a confused frown to your lips. Even as he has mysteriously disappeared, your skin remains tingling with the sensation of his lips and hands. Your mind is in a muddle, infused with the intoxication of the alcohol and his strong cologne that you will definitely remember.

“We’ve been trying to search for you everywhere!” Wonyoung exclaims, giving you no time to process when she lunges for a tight hug. She releases a relief sigh before pulling away and examining you. “Thank God you’re okay. But why are you not wearing your mask?” She asks, looking alarmed.

“I throw it elsewhere. I don’t know.” You mutter, blinking your eyes as you feel lightheaded. “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of being recognised. They’re all preoccupied with partying and dancing anyway.” You provide some assurance to Wonyoung, while Karina and Yunjin seem relaxed.

“Let’s go. We can’t miss the second rave.” Karina tugs at your wrist, dragging you with her gingerly and guiding you through the crowd.

“Rave?” You ponder out loud, and your eyes dart between Yunjin and Wonyoung.

In response, Yunjin gives you a Cheshire smile. “Trust me. You are going to love it.”

“By the way, who were you dancing with?” Karina inquires as she busily guides you to a place, which you presume to be the backyard, while there are other guests along with your group heading to the same place.

“No one.” You answer curtly, giving her a tight smile. “I had fun dancing alone.”

You know better than to inform your friends that you were dancing intimately with Jake Sim, or else you’ll receive an earful from them, considering they detest the knight members. They even reminded you to stay away from any of the knight members, particularly the four leaders.

As soon as the thought of the four devil’s knights’ leaders comes to your mind, your eyes widen in dreadful realisation while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. Since you were too busy getting caught up in the heat of the moment, you failed to realise that Jake is one of the leaders, the one who had you in his possession with a scintilla of danger emanating from him.

The rowdy commotion from the partygoers sounds faint with each step he takes towards the meeting room on the second floor. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire for the upcoming section of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face remains devoid of emotion, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you.

How tempted he was to snatch you away from the scenery and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your porcelain skin. He quickly shakes away the thought of you, not wanting to get hard again, as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.

Stopping in front of the door that is made out of steel, he punches the code onto the padlock keys before the door automatically opens. The familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls greets him as he steps inside. Hearing the door behind him close with a thud, he begins to make his way to the meeting room, where multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere as it gets louder.

Without announcing his arrival, he saunters into the massive meeting room with his hands tucked inside his pockets while his face remains neutral, ignoring the rest of the knight members of the lower rank as they are settled in their respective houses.

The devil’s knights fraternity consists of four houses─ North, South, East, and West.

Each house has its own respective leader. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even on the streets in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the renowned devil's knights. Crestview Meadows University favours the devil's knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four particular individuals who are now affluent figures.

“There he is. The star of the night.” A snarky remark is made by one of the leaders, also known as Park Sunghoon. Jake’s gaze lands on him as he continues to saunter forward until he reaches the table where the other leaders are gathered as well.

“Spare me your sarcasm, Hoon.” Jake says in a monotone, throwing himself onto the swivel chair and making himself comfortable.

“You’re late.” Sunghoon shoots him a scowl as he is seated on the table. The table itself is scattered with a variety of knives.

“He was probably fucking around with the freshies. Can’t even keep up his pants for a minute.” This time, another voice makes a remark, prompting Jake to look at his fellow leader slash best friend. Jay Park.

Jake narrows his eyes at Jay’s smirk. “You’re lucky I'm in the mood to play nice.”

“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough for the other knight members in the room to quieten the volume of their chatter. Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon shift their attention to the figure seated by the window sill with his arms crossed over his chest, also known as Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung remains unmoving, but his gaze alone is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four of them by one year. “Now that everyone is here, we may begin our briefing. For those of you who were on bouncers’ duties, how many uninvited attendees were there?”

All of the knight members would usually gather in this meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual devil’s night planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to them unless they are the leaders. Furthermore, this very palace is officially owned by the four devil’s knight leaders, considering that their fathers were the founders of the devil’s knights. As a matter of fact, this palace was previously owned by the same founders, but as many years passed and their sons followed in their footsteps in joining the renowned fraternity, the founders collectively agreed to bequeath the palace to their sons.

North: Jake

South: Heeseung

East: Sunghoon

West: Jay

These four delinquents have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well.

“Approximately twenty.” One of the low-ranking members takes the initiative to answer, a sophomore, and he is from the West House.

However, his answer raises an eyebrow from his leader. The sophomore flinches at the way Jay directs his sharp gaze, which is penetrating enough. “Approximately?” Jay’s cold voice affects everyone except the other leaders.

“He meant to say that there are twenty-three uninvited attendees!” Another sophomore from the West House steps in to assist the other sophomore, who is shaking in his boots.

Before anyone can speak up, one of the windows swings open, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed, as a familiar figure wholly in black, layered clothing emerges, climbing into the meeting room, followed by two figures.

The three of them stand tall in their line of sight as they remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet the three of them with a lopsided grin. They are Devil’s Knights’ honorary members who are juniors and appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders graduate from university. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.

“The kid’s right.” Sunoo says, placing his mask down on the table. “There are a total of twenty-three uninvited attendees.”

“That’s a long list of people to hunt down compared to last year’s.” Riki’s deep voice echoes in the room, while his tall figure is intimidating enough for the other lower-ranking members.

“The more, the merrier.” A Cheshire grin smears across Jungwon’s lips while a familiar bloodlust gleamers in his eyes. “Oh, we’ve already covered all the perimeters. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Felix, and Jeongin are on standby.”

“Good.” Heeseung nods his head firmly, feeling satisfied with how competent their future leaders are. Heeseung’s eyes glide across the fraternity present in the room. “All of you know what to do. Remember to only hunt down whoever’s name you were given, and most importantly, Namgil and his crew will meet their demise tonight.”

“Ah, Kim Namgil.” Sunghoon smirks, a wicked intent can be seen glinting in his eyes at the mention of the ex-member. “I can’t wait to crush that fucker’s skull.”

Jay scoffs out a deadly chuckle, his veins are brimming with vengeance. “Not until I get to him first.”

“Patience. We’ll be sticking strictly to the plan.” Heeseung tells them sternly before looking back at the rest of the fraternity. “Remember that our goal is to wreak havoc and terror, including mayhem. For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first Devil’s Night, you do not need to worry about the law enforcement, as they’ll only be here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”

To add on, Devil’s Night is a tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. There is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.

“In short, you may also do what you please for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils.”

At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room rowdily, leaving the four leaders and the future three leaders alone in the room.

“There is another important thing you guys should know.” Sunoo speaks up, drawing their attention. Interest sparkles in Sunoo’s eyes. “Y/N is one of the uninvited attendees.”

“Y/N?” Sunghoon scoffs out in disbelief, refusing to take Sunoo’s words seriously. “You should really work on your humour if you plan to impress us.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Sunoo deadpans before he motions to Riki and Jungwon. “Ask them if you still refuse to believe me. They saw her at the second rave.”

“Yup.” Jungwon toys around with one of the knives in his grasp leisurely while a smirk paints his canvas. “She looks pretty, though. It’s a shame to lose a pretty face like hers.”

“Her name is not in any of the lists.” Riki points out. “So who shall be hunting her?”

“Can I?” Sunoo asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to scare her.”

“No.” Jake takes everyone by surprise as he nearly growls out. His eyes darkened at the thought of you. “No one touches her. No one except me.”

“Since when did you get to decide on this alone?” Jay raises a single eyebrow at his best friend. “To make it more interesting and thrilling, I say the four of us hunt her down.”

“And kill her afterwards?” Sunghoon’s face twists in a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong. It won’t affect me if we kill her, but I don’t want those pesky friends of hers to hunt my ass down.”

“What about you, Heeseung?” Jay asks as all heads turn to the silent male, who appears in deep thought. “How are we going to decide on what to do with Y/N? Rules are still rules. Uninvited attendees shall not make it out alive on Devil’s Night.”

“We hunt her down as well.” Heeseung states calmly. “But don’t kill her yet. We’ll decide what to do with her once we hunt her down.”

“Then we’ll make our way to our respective posts.” Jungwon offers the four leaders a salute before wearing his mask and making his way to the opened window, where he expertly jumps over while Sunoo and Riki follow suit.

“We have like thirty minutes left until the last segment.” Jay notes, staring down at his wristwatch before his gaze returns to the three of them. “I don’t know about you guys, but I, for one, am intrigued to see for myself if what Jungwon said was true about Y/N looking pretty.”

“She was.” Jake utters, his lips curving into a grin, while he recalls the gorgeous sight of you. “I was with her earlier.”

“How?” Sunghoon asks incredulously.

“She willingly danced with me. Oh, and she seemed rather tipsy, so it makes the hunt a whole lot fun.” Jake chuckles breathily.

“What did she dress up as?” Heeseung finds himself asking this, feeling almost compelled and intrigued to know about the theme you chose.

“An angel.” Jake is certain of his answer, and no, not because of the way you dressed, but because you are indeed an angel who is unfortunate enough to have stepped into their territory without knowing the consequences of your actions.

“How fitting.” Heeseung’s lips turn into a subtle smirk. “Well, gents, it looks like we have ourselves an angel to hunt down.”

You can definitely understand the rationale of those who have been to this event for the past few years and those who are invited behind their hype for Devil’s Night. The activities the knight members hosted are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.

Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Kazuha, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier when the second rave ends. Now all of you have decided to attend and participate in the third rave. The last rave of the night.

The B-stage at the backyard is bigger than the one inside the palace at the supposedly club room, and the crowd is tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night even more while the ambience in the air is vibrantly teeming with the LED pink and purple lights flashing across the sea of crowds and into the skies. The bass-boosted music of ‘Tonight’ by Big Bang that the DJ is playing reverberates throughout the expanse of the palace and even further.

“Look at Y/N! Babygirl got moves!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in an effervescent element, which is undoubtedly a rare sight for you.

“I’m glad she’s having fun!” Kazuha exclaims cheerily, smiling widely at the sight of you giggling and dancing in your own world with Chaewon and Liz.

Wonyoung, who opts to take a short break from the dancing, watches you with a softened gaze while her hand is holding a red cup of vodka. Is she still worried for you? Yes, but right now, she is glad to see you having genuine fun.

“She needed this.” Yunjin speaks beside Wonyoung as she watches you as well. "Now, are you glad that we dragged her here?”

“Perhaps.” Wonyoung says. “As long as nothing happens to Y/N or any of us.” Yunjin nods in agreement.

“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now.”

Chaewon makes her way out of the crowd, excusing herself to head to the bathroom while your other friends immerse themselves in the music and separate themselves from you. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, causing Wonyoung and Yunjin to lose sight of you.

The thought of other sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild glint in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins.

Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally bump into someone from behind, but just as you are about to apologise to the person, firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.

“Nice moves you got there.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe, reminding you of Jake earlier, but this time, this person’s touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s. “Why did you stop, baby?” He hums seductively.

“Jay.” You breathe out, going completely still. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth.

“Angel baby.” He lulls beside your ear before you feel him dipping his head down to press a sensual kiss on your shoulder blade. “Come on. Show me your moves.” It is a command.

Despite the trepidation coursing through your veins at the fact that one of the devil’s knights's leaders has you in his possession, you know better than to refuse him. So you begin to sway your body before you gradually pick up the rhythm.

Eventually, you lower your guard around him and dance willingly with him, occasionally grinding your body against his, to which he groans lowly at the sensation of your ass in contact with his dick.

A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft raven locks while the two of you continue to sway in sync to the music.

“If I had known you were this fun, I would’ve brought you out with me to a nightclub sooner.” Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse.

“You can’t kiss me whenever you want, you know?” You giggle once more, enjoying the way his strong arms are hugging your waist from behind. Perhaps the remnants of the alcohol persist in your system, but you have never been this playful and flirtatious around guys.

“Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.” Jay rasps against your skin on the cheek. You feel his fingers stroking your stomach in a sensual manner before they make their ascent to your chest. “Besides, you’re in our territory, angel baby.”

You gasp while your heart lurches in your chest when he gropes your breast, and a low groan leaves his lips next to your ear. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the newfound sensation that pools in your tummy.

“Fuck, baby.” He cusses lowly before pressing another kiss on your neck. “The things I want to do to you right now, but unfortunately, duty calls.”

You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears into the crowd, just like Jake did.

“Y/N, for the love of God, do not ever disappear like that again!” Wonyoung’s exclamation can easily be heard over the commotion as you spot her just a few metres away from you.

Your face twists into a grimace at how visible her annoyance and frustration are on her face. Soon, you spot your other friends as well in your vicinity. A part of you desires to find Jay and ask him to elaborate on what he meant by his statement earlier, but you know better than to further involve yourself with him. Just as you step forward, the music dies out, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.

“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your head spin lightly.

What happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.

The deafening sound of a siren rings through your ears, which is akin to the purge, shattering the night of riotous jollity instantaneously. Despite the perpetual blaring siren, you can discern a dissatisfactory chorus of groans and clamours amongst the crowd. The LED lights begin to dim, but you manage to catch glimpses of your friends' contortions with confusion and percipience.

Before you can open your mouth to speak with the intention to inquire, a stentorian voice that belongs to a female startles you, as it is resounding enough for you to absorb her emphatic words into your mind despite the ongoing siren in the background.

"Announcing the commencement of the annual devil's night sanctioned by the mayor of Seoul. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during Devil's Night. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Blessed be the four leaders of the devil's knights."

At once, the tumultuous crowd begins to disperse in a haphazard manner, and some can be seen running as though they are being hunted down by unknown sources, or rather, delinquents. Despite the fear in their contortion, you can't help but notice the glimpses of excitement, and an eccentric ambience of thrill pervades in the haunting atmosphere.

Apprehension courses through your veins while your heart beats expeditiously. You swear you can hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears. In the midst of the ambiguity, your intuition is sending you a message that what may escalate next is not something you expected on a purported Halloween night routine, or rather, assumed.

"Ouch! Hey!" Annoyance bubbles within you upon having been shoved roughly by some people, resulting in you nearly plummeting to the ground if it weren’t for your best friend, who swiftly and steadily supports you as she holds you against her.

"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, with pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss elicits from her.

"I told you that it was a bad idea to drag her here!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous raven-haired best friend, your stomach sinks at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter!"

"Winter and Liz are with the others!" Karina informs in haste as she appears next to you, seeming to be running with how apparent she is panting lightly. "We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"

"It's no use even if we try to escape." Yunjin sighs, running her fingers through her red strands. "They're not letting us out until it's over."

"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, taking you by surprise when she grabs your wrist tight. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members."

"I don't get it!" You raise your voice as you dart your eyes between your best friends. "This was supposed to be a normal Halloween night, but now crimes are acceptable for the next 12 hours?! What sort of─"

The sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you greatly, and before you can even process anything, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste.

By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen at the gruesome sight of two masked men displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, looking all bloodied with his face completely ruined.

"Come on!" Karina shouts, snapping you out of it before you are being thrust into her car by Wonyoung, who then proceeds to enter the backseat with you while Yunjin is in the shotgun.

As Karina switches the ignition of her vehicle, a shriek leaves your lips as soon as the window next to you shatters into pieces by a golf stick, prompting you to duck your head and move further from the masked man as he attempts to reach out for you, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas and speeds off.

A loud gasp escapes from you while your heart is pounding hard against your chest. Wonyoung swiftly engulfs you in her warm embrace, in which you desperately seek comfort, even if it's just for a moment.

"What the fuck?! There are roadblocks everywhere!" Karina exclaims, and you sense a scowl in her tone.

"That's what I've been telling you! We can't escape anywhere until Devil's Night is over." Yunjin says exasperatedly before she looks over her shoulder at you, uncertainty and concern residing in her gaze upon seeing how visibly shaken you are as you cling onto Wonyoung's arms.

"Ah, fuck!" Karina curses once more before steering the wheel expertly, finding other possible solutions. Yunjin shoots her a withering glare, to which Karina retaliates. "Don't give me that look. I have totally forgotten what it was like on Devil's Night."

"Was that why a few students died last year?" You manage to speak through shaky breaths. "Because they were killed on Devil's Night."

Silence befalls your best friends, but as Wonyoung squeezes her arms around you, you know that your presumption is correct. You have finally connected the dots. Initially, you didn’t want to make the assumption that those students who died on Halloween were the same ones who attended Devil’s Night. But as their silence confirms that, your stomach sinks in dread, and you begin to pray silently.

Deciding to distract yourself, you notice some bikers are on the same run as they ride ahead of you, as well as two cars, to which you assume that they are the invited guests.

"We can hide at some place, maybe a building, where there is a high chance that they won't find us." Wonyoung tells Karina, while the latter nods her head and continues to drive with keen eyes.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, sending both you and Wonyoung flying forward. A series of profanities emanate from your best friends.

"Damn it! The wheels got punctured!" Karina groans loudly as she hits her forehead on the steering wheel. "So what's the plan? Either way, we're probably going to get fucked."

"We run, duh." Yunjin pushes the door open, while Wonyoung seems reluctant but heeds her words.

"But we're wearing heels!" Karina's exclamation goes unheard by you as you attempt to catch up to Yunjin and Wonyoung. You wince as you soon begin to feel the aches. Tonight is the wrong night for you to be wearing heels.

You don't even know where you are at this moment, focusing solely on following your best friends from behind, until you hear a familiar voice calling for your group just a few metres away.

"Guys! Over here!" You recognise the guy, who is a junior from the business department. He is fairly famous among the ladies. With the motion of his hand, he is beckoning for your group to enter what looks like an abandoned, massive, three-story building.

"Ricky!" Wonyoung greets him with a friendly yet brief side-hug as soon as she reaches for him. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

"On Devil's Night? Nowhere is safe." Ricky shoots her a lopsided grin before his eyes settle on your face, and instantly, he blinks his eyes in surprise. "Y/N? You're here on Devil's Night?" He asks in dubiety.

In return, you give him an awkward smile. "It's kind of a long story."

"No time to explain. Thanks for helping us out, by the way." Yunjin pats his shoulder firmly before brushing past you.

"Come on." Ricky pulls you in and proceeds to close the fairly huge door with a loud thud.

A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you involuntary shivers as your arms latch around your body in an attempt to warm yourself while your eyes scan the interior of the building with no lights in sight. The only source of light is the moonlight, which streams through the broken window glasses.

You hear hushed yet noticeable voices belonging to unfamiliar and familiar people that go scattering across the floor. You keep wandering around, getting immersed in how hauntingly beautiful the interior building is, as though the previous owners were the royalties.

As you look away from the broken chandeliers above you, you notice that you are in a foyer with a massive flight of stairs in sight. That is also when you realise that you have gone astray from your best friends.

"Wonyoung?" You call out for her, your voice echoing throughout the dark, and your eyes have adapted to the setting. "Yunjin? Karina? Ricky?"

Your body jolts when you hear a piercing scream that belongs to Karina, although she sounds as though she is somewhere on the second floor. Your eyes widen in mortification at the thought of your best friend being gravely injured before you proceed to take hurried steps forward.

Just when your foot steps on a stair, a dark figure standing way above the second floor captures your attention. As you look up, your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing the person with the physique of a man looming over you. He is wearing a black bomber jacket with the hoodie covering his head, and his red mask obscures his identity. His head is tilted to one side, and you would have found it cute if it weren’t for the fact that he is holding a literal metal baseball bat in his grasp.

At the moment he makes his first descent, you begin to make your retreat by undoing whatever you're about to do. You hear a breathy chuckle elicited from the red-masked man that you swear sounds familiar.

Your stomach churns with uneasiness as you continue to back away from him cautiously. Oddly, his movement seems deliberately slow, as though he is taking his time trying to scare you. Releasing a shaky breath, you turn around with the intention to run, but you bump into a solid chest.

Before you can fall, gloved hands latch on your waist, steadying you. As you slowly look up, colours drain from your face at the closed-up look of a designated black mask that he is wearing, and you have no idea who he is. He is also wearing similar attire as his fellow comrade.

"Look at what we have here." His voice sounds oddly deep, as though he is using some sort of advanced technology to conceal his real voice. Despite him wearing a mask, you swear you can feel his gaze raking all over you. "We're giving you ten seconds to run far, angel. Starting now."

Of course, you know better than to delay. So you run, ignoring the touch of his gloved hands on your skin that remains lingering. Your heels and thighs are hurting from all the running. Your chest is hurting with the way your heart pounds hard. Trepidation courses through you. You fear what is to happen next, and you hope to live to see the next sunrise.

It appears that luck is not on your side tonight, as you find yourself falling to the ground. Pain shoots up in your ankle, but thankfully, it is bearable. With a wince, you slowly lift your head up with your hair dishevelled, and when you do, you feel as though your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

Fear resides in your gaze as you stare up at the figure looming over your fallen figure, his boots directly in front of your face. His head is tilted to one side as he stares down at you, and his face is obscured with a white mask that has a vertical red stripe on one side.

Your mind is screaming at you to run from him, but it is as though you have been rendered immobile, your body paralysed with petrification. Tears well up in your eyes as he bends down on one knee and uses his melee knife to slide under your chin, tilting your head up.

"Please don't kill me." You hold back a sob, attempting to stay strong, but a traitorous tear betrays you as it slides down your cheek.

"You should’ve thought about it twice when you decided to show up in the first place, sweetheart." His voice sounds akin to that of the previous masked man, but you can detect a gentleness in it. For a moment, he reminds you of a certain individual who has been your academic rival for the past few years.

In a blink of an eye, you gasp as he hauls you up with a strong grip and slams you against the wall without any thoughts of gentleness. Your heart continues to pound against your chest as he pins both your wrists above your head tightly while his other is occupied with his melee knife, the tip sliding down your cheek, but not enough to leave any traces of scars.

"Were you supposed to dress up as an angel?" He asks while leisurely trailing the tip of his melee knife against your throat and descending to the expanse of your chest, where your cleavage is enticing to him. "Yeah, you were. But a slutty angel at that."

The degradation in his soft tone throws you off guard. Before you can speak, he renders you speechless when he leans down to press his lips against yours, and you would have considered this your first kiss if it weren’t for the barrier of his mask.

Karina’s piercing scream shatters whatever trance you are in, prompting you to turn your head sideways where her screams are echoed. “Karina.” You utter her name worriedly before looking back at the mysterious masked man whom you will call White. “Please don’t let them hurt Karina or any of my friends.” You implore him rather meekly.

White chuckles, though you can easily detect his mockery. “You are so fucking adorable, sweetheart. Thinking that you can order me around just like that.” He leans away from you and releases you.

Just when you think you can make your escape, he proves you wrong when he grabs your arm firmly, pulling you to flush against his body warmth. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done with what we need to do.”

“We?” You blurt out just as he drags you with him. It isn’t long until the previous masked men you saw greet you in your line of sight as they laze around by the foyer.

Their heads snap at you, and despite wearing those masks, you swear you can feel the intensity of their gaze on your figure. You decide to call them by the colour of their masks.

“Are we seriously bringing her with us?” Black asks, his tone tinged with annoyance. “She will only be a hindrance to our mission.”

This time, you decide to intervene. “Not to worry! I can just leave you guys to your mission while I see myself out.” You crack a nervous smile before attempting to run past White, but what happens next greatly shocks you.

With ease, White has thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you with his hand holding onto the back of your waist for security. White simply ignores your pathetic attempt to protest as he gives Black and Red a firm head nod before they proceed to make their ascent to the flight of stairs.

You continue to wiggle in his firm grip, and you are conscious of the fact that your weight might bother him, especially the weight in your thighs, as they are slightly thicker than your best friends’.

“Stop moving!” White grunts, getting annoyed at your antics. In an attempt to silence you, a slap echoes throughout while you feel a stinging pain on your buttcheek before your cheeks go flushed at the realisation that he has just smacked your ass without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Jungwon, Riki, what’s the status?” Your ears perk up at the familiar names, whom you recognise as the renowned juniors that are closer to the four devil's knights leaders compared to any frat member.

“Everything is ready. Just say the word, and we’ll blow the building up.” You hear Jungwon’s voice coming from someone’s phone, and you frown at his statement.

“Felix just informed me that Namgil and his crew took the bait and had just entered the building.” Red speaks to White and Black, whereas your stomach is starting to hurt from how sharp White’s shoulder blade is.

You poke at White’s back, earning his attention. “My stomach hurts. Can you let me down? I promise I won’t run away.”

Silence is all you receive from White, which disheartens you. So you close your eyes and try your utmost to withstand the pain while holding back whimpers. Just then, you feel yourself being settled down on a soft cushion before you open your eyes to see yourself seated on a worn-out couch.

You are about to thank White, who is looming over your figure, but you are rendered speechless when he ties your wrists together with a black cable tie.

“What are you doing?!” You raise your voice, the disbelief is evident in your tone. “You didn’t have to tie me! I gave you my word that I wouldn’t run away!”

“Just to be safe.” White tells you before taking a step back. “Stay put, sweetheart. We’ll be right back for you.”

With that, White, Red, and Black make their departure, leaving you alone in this dark room with the only source of light coming from the window, moonlight streaking in, and the faint screams of terror emanating from the outside tainting the night.

You did attempt calling for help or even your best friends, but to no avail. Your throat is starting to hurt, and you are in dire need of water to quench your thirst. To make matters worse, your ankle looks slightly swollen from falling earlier.

You refuse to obey White’s instructions, so you decide to venture out of the room, trying to find the way out. With each step you take, you limp slightly, wincing every now and then due to your throbbing ankle. You definitely need medical attention before it gets worse.

After what feels like forever, you finally manage to descend to the first floor in the foyer as you hold onto the railing. You heave a sigh, and a glimmer of hope shines in your eye at the thought of escaping from this place, from the three masked men.

But you should know better than to hope, especially when you have broken the rules that are expected of you as God’s blessed child.

Dread fills you when a group of five mask men are in your line of sight. However, these mask men look entirely different compared to the devil’s knights. They are wearing red bomber jackets instead of black.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of them, whom you presume is the leader, steps forward as he cackles wickedly. “Y/N. I never thought I’d see a day where the good girl dressed up like a slut.”

You recognise that voice. Kim Namgil. Apparently, he broke some sort of rule or whatever that got him dismissed from the fraternity club. You have heard that he was the worst of the worst of them.

Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, with your slightly swollen ankle, you turn around with the intention to run away from them, and you are almost successful when you feel a painful impact on your back from getting hit by a wooden baseball bat, resulting in you falling to the ground on your knees. You don’t even have the time to attempt to defend yourself despite your wrists that are tied together when he flips you around and pins you to the ground with his fingers curled around your neck in a firm, threatening manner.

“I’ve always wondered what it feels like to fuck you and break you.” Namgil snarls coldly in your face behind his black mask. “After I’m done with you, I’ll let my crew have their turn in destroying your cunt, and then right after, I’ll tear your limbs one by one.”

The fear coursing through your veins is so intense, while tears spring from your eyes. But you remain resilient, still fighting and struggling in his firm grip. Raising your leg, you knee him hard in the sack, eliciting a pissed-off snarl from him.

Your head is turned sideways at the impact of his slap, and your tongue tastes the metallicity of your blood from the cut at the corner of your lips due to his ring. This time, you don’t hold back your sob, weeping helplessly underneath him, yet you keep praying to God that you will be saved.

“Namgil, I don’t think we have time to mess around with her.” One of his crew members tells him with a sense of urgency.

“Just a quick fuck.” Namgil tells him as he squeezes your throat tight, causing black dots to appear in your vision before he slaps your face again, and this time, your head starts to throb painfully.

“Damn, she looks like a fucking slut.” You hear one of them make derogatory remarks with chuckles. “Faster, Namgil. I can’t wait to fuck her pussy.”

At the moment you hear a zipper, more tears spill from your closed eyes as you give up hope and await the pain. But nothing happens next. Instead, you hear a commotion involving punches being thrown and a series of groans and cusses.

You no longer feel the weight of Namgil on top of you, as someone has pulled him away from you. You flutter your heavy eyelids open, and the gruesome sight of Kim Namgil being beaten to pulp by Red greets you just across from you.

“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps his metal baseball bat and is tainted with Namgil’s blood. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil.”

You look away with a wince as soon as Red brings down his metal baseball bat to Namgil’s ruined and bloodied face once more, diverting your attention to White, who plunges his knife into one of Namgil’s crew members, to which you gasp, startled upon witnessing the knight members displaying true violence in real time.

You hear a painful scream of a man before the sound of bones cracking makes you go flinching, but you find yourself looking at where the source of the sound comes from, staring at Black, who has broken the limbs of the one whom you recognised as the guy who made the last remark when he slutshamed you.

Then you see a new masked man, and you call him Silver, making his way over to Red, who is evidently berserk and is stopped by Silver. Red seems to breathe heavily and steps away from Namgil before he turns his head to you, but you are busy watching Silver, who appears to be saying something to Namgil tauntingly before the sound of bones crushing pierce through the air.

Upon having to witness such gruesome sights with blood splattering everywhere, tears are continuously streaming down your cheeks, but you have no strength to sob out. Fear and trepidation spread throughout your chest at the thought of you being their next victim.

You flinch as footsteps approach you while you remain on the floor, having no strength after being assaulted by Namgil and his crew. You hear low murmurs around you while your mind is in a haze.

You can barely comprehend anything when you feel someone cutting the cable tie that binds your wrists. A pair of strong arms lifts you and carries you with ease, prompting you to flutter your eyes open to see yourself in Silver’s arms.

“Jungwon, blow the building up.” You hear Black speak as soon as the five of you step out of the abandoned building.

“Wait.” You mumble groggily, wincing as your head throbs once more. “My best friends, they’re still inside─”

“The only ones who are inside are the dead bodies.” Silver says above you, his deep voice is akin to the other masked men’s, surprising you. “Your friends are still alive and have been brought to another place.”

You don’t say anything, too shocked to form coherent sentences upon witnessing the building blow up with a booming sound. You watch as the building is engulfed by the roaring, ferocious flames while the masked men continue to advance forward without a care for the burning building behind them.

A black van pulls over by the curb before the door slides open, revealing the familiar faces of your juniors. “Get in.” Riki tells them before his dark eyes land on you. His eyebrow is raised at you, but he doesn’t say anything as he scoots to the back when Silver steps forward to place you inside.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sunoo greets you with a grin as he is seated in the shotgun. “Fun times, ey?”

You don’t respond, resorting to silence as the rest climb into the van before the door closes. Jungwon, who is the driver, presses his foot on the pedal gas as he speeds away. You expect the four masked men to reveal their faces, but they don’t.

Silver, who is sitting next to you, turns his body to face you with his head tilted to one side. “Now, what shall we do with you?” He ponders out loud, and his statement sends shivers down your spine.

But you are too numb to make any protest or defend yourself from these masked men, as the gruesome images of blood and the sound of bones crushing that emanate from Namgil and his crew remain reeling in your mind. Despite the fact that you’ve always had complete distaste for Namgil, you know that he didn’t deserve to die.

The moment gloved fingers caress your cheek, you flinch away from Black, who is seated next to you. “Since the second part of the hunt is starting soon, why don’t we let angel here join the others instead?” He suggests to his fellow comrades.

You release a shaky breath as you stare at Black with visible fear and curiosity. “Second part of the hunt? You mean to tell me that earlier was just the first part?” Your tone is laced with disbelief.

“That’s right. The first hunt was to hunt and kill the victims on our list while the others spread horror and terror to those lucky ones who didn’t make it to the list.” This time, Jungwon tells you, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror fleeting, yet you manage to catch his smirk that has obvious wicked intent.

Perturbation gnaws in your tummy as you lick your dry, quivering lips. “And what does the second hunt entail?” You manage to ask despite the shakiness in your voice.

“You’re about to find out, angel.” Black chuckles with a hint of darkness, and concurrently, the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop, nearly flinging you to the front, but Silver’s quick reflexes manage to prevent you from doing so with his arms shooting out to hold you.

The door automatically opens before Silver makes his exit first, he turns to you and holds his hand out for you, to which you hesitantly accept his assistance before you make your exit as well.

“Y/N!” Your girls, specifically Wonyoung’s voice that overpowers theirs, call for you as soon as the four masked men have brought you to where the other victims are gathered, as well as the other knight members with their masks and similar attire. You shudder upon seeing different types of weapons in their grasp.

All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the throbbing pain in your ankle and walk as normally as you can. The sound of gates rattling closed from behind startles you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see that the entrance is closed. You scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you.

Once White releases his grip on your arm, you waste no time rushing for your awaiting friends and crash into the first person who has her arms outstretched for you. Your eyes water as you bury your head into her chest, and for once,you are glad that she’s taller than you by five centimetres. Wonyoung’s warmth shrouds your cold, trembling form while you feel relieved to see her and the others again, despite the fact that this comfort you desperately seek and bask in is only temporary.

You silently thank God for keeping your good friends safe and in one piece.

Just then, your eyes widen at the sudden realisation that hits you, prompting you to pull away from Wonyoung. “Karina!” The moment you utter her name, your gaze immediately settles on the familiar catwoman standing in between Winter and Kazuha. As your eyes rake all over her, confusion etches on your canvas. “You’re not hurt? But I thought I heard you scream earlier.”

Karina gives you a sheepish smile. “I got startled when a cobweb of spiders hit my face, and afterwards, one of the knight members scared the fuck out of me, but don’t worry, honey, I’m perfectly fine!” She reassures you once more, and you begin to relax, only for a while before the screeching sound of a speaker pierces in the air, causing all of you to wince.

“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” White speaks into the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention while you briefly look over to the numerous familiar faces of the other students amongst the crowd. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not is all dependent on you.”

White passes the microphone to Silver. “Yes, we’re aware that this is new for those of you who have been to the previous annual Devil’s Nights.” Silver explains. “For this stage, all of you will be given seven minutes to run and find the exit of the labyrinth garden.”

“Seven minutes?!” A guy from your cohort barks out his discontent. “Seven minutes is impossible for us to make our escape! Look at this maze! It’s fucking massive!”

“Too fucking bad.” You hear a smirk in Silver’s tone. “So you better be running for your life once we hit the countdown.”

“And what happens if we don’t make it to the exit in time?” Liz asks loudly, and when you look at her, you frown at the discernible excitement in her eyes. Why is she excited when she should be apprehensive just as you are now?

It’s not just her, but you notice the palpable tension of excitement emanating from some of the victims. It is as if they have been expecting this adventurous thrill that may or may not cost their lives. Your face twists into a slight grimace, finding them odd.

Red snatches the microphone from Silver. “For those of you who successfully manage to find the exit on time, congratulations. You are free to leave and enjoy the rest of Devil’s Night with what we have to offer.” Black pauses before he elicits dark chuckles. “But for those who fail, you’re ours to kill, ours to toy, ours to torture, and ours to fuck once we find you. We’ll do whatever we want for you. So when we tell you to run, you run and don’t ever fucking stop.”

You see Black motioning for the microphone, which Red gives him. “As for our fellow knights, don’t forget to stake your claims if you haven’t. Remember to hunt down only what is yours.” As Black says this, you can feel his gaze behind his mask fixed intently on your face. “The second part of the hunt starts now.”

On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. Wonyoung has already dragged you along with her, shoving her way through the crowd with profanities occasionally leaving her lips while her grip around your wrist tightens.

“This way!” Wonyoung barks over her shoulder to you before tugging you with her into one of the mazes.

“Yunjin! Chaewon! Girls!” You shout to your friends at the other side, who fail to hear your calling as they proceed to enter different mazes, followed by some other victims. You wince when Wonyoung adds more force as she drags you. “Wony! Slow down!”

“Are you crazy?!” Wonyoung raises her voice as she gives you a bewildered glare. “We only have seven minutes, and you’re telling me to slow down!?”

“But my ankle hurts.” You whimper as you finally allow yourself to limp, prompting Wonyoung to halt her steps while panic resides in her gaze.

“How did this happen?!” Wonyoung begins to fuss over you, bending down to touch your swollen ankle before returning her gaze to your face. “Never mind that. How bad does it hurt now?”

“Like an eight? I don’t know.” You grimace, putting more weight on your other perfectly fine ankle. Your eyes dart at your surroundings while you rub your arms in an attempt to provide some warmth due to the cold breeze that hallows as well. “How are we even supposed to find the exit in this massive labyrinth?” You ask, feeling disheartened. You yearn to return to the comfort of your bed and snuggle with your soft toys.

“Can you try to withstand the pain?” Wonyoung asks with a concerned frown, and you nod your head in response. “Okay. We’ll try to brisk-walk and search for the exit. We have about,” She pauses as she glances down at her phone screen. “Four minutes?! Shit!” She grabs your hand and wastes no time walking in haste.

You ignore your ankle, which is throbbing painfully now, as you follow her. Amidst the trepidation, determination sizzles through you, and you have every intention to escape from the knights’ grasps, specifically the four masked men from earlier. Your stomach churns while you have an inkling that they’ll be hunting you down.

Time seems to be passing by slowly as you are starting to feel the exertion dawning on your body from the events that happened since the moment you stepped foot into their territory. Wonyoung, too, looks exhausted as she has finally released your hand, but as always, she remains composed with her head held up high, and determination is like steel in her eyes.

The two of you turn to the right corner, and at once, groans are emitted from both of you. Greeted in your line of sight is a lengthy, narrow maze with different entrances on each side. “I swear we’re going in circles!” Wonyoung scowls indignantly, but nonetheless, she advances forward while you stop to take a breather.

You pant lightly, wiping the sweat above your brow. “Wait, Wony─”

But just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in familiar attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, who grabs her with his arm around her waist while the other has her wrists locked firmly.

“Hey! Get the hell away from me!” Wonyoung thrashes in his grasp as he drags her with him. She turns her head to glare at the man in the mask before recognition flickers in her gaze. “Jungwon! Please!”

A gasp leaves your lips at the name that leaves her mouth. You watch as Jungwon continues to drag Wonyoung with him while the latter continues to plead, though you can’t help but discern the softness in her tone towards him.

“Wonyoung!” You cry out for your soul sister as you step forward with the intention of getting her back, afraid of what might happen to her. But the moment you attempt to reach out for her, Jungwon turns to look at you and shakes his head.

“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.”

“Y/N─'' Jungwon clamps his hand over Wonyoung’s mouth before they eventually disappear from your sight as they enter one of the entrances, leaving you alone and helpless.

Tears are welling in the rims of your eyes, while the trepidation that courses through your veins is starting to feel overwhelming. You sniffle as you quickly wipe away the fallen teardrop on your cheek before you force yourself to advance forward, mustering whatever courage and determination are left within you.

The shrill screams, which belong to different individuals, have been continuously pierced into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, startling you as you tighten your arms around your body in an attempt to seek some form of succour.

By now, you are numb to the pain in your swollen ankle and solely focused on surviving this hunt and making it out alive. You turn to a left corner and continue to venture forward until you hear a voice belonging to a familiar person that kindles hope in your chest.

“Yunjin?” You call for her, moving forward while your eyes dart everywhere as you walk past different entrances. You become startled when you spot one of the knights holding a chainsaw chasing after two girls who are screaming in terror before you quickly mind your own business and resume searching for your childhood best friend.

“Yunjin─” You immediately halt your steps as soon as you hear faint moans emitting from your very own childhood best friend. Your face contorts into confusion as you listen to how she is moaning pleasurably while there is a faint slapping sound of skins.

A part of you knows better than to indulge your curiosity, but you find yourself advancing forward once more. As soon as you turn your head, the obscenity sight greets you and renders you completely shocked to the point where your body feels paralysed, unable to move.

There is your childhood best friend on top of a masked man as he is seated on a wooden bench, and their lower regions are completely stripped off of any layer of garments. Her back is facing you as she bounces continuously on him with her hands draped over his shoulders lazily.

As your gaze falls down, that is when you finally notice that Yunjin is indeed fucking down on the masked man. You can see how lewd they are fucking into each other with a series of moans and groans emitting from them. You should feel disgusted, and you should be looking away from the obscenity, but you become enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy each time she bounces.

Oddly, your heart is racing at a foreign pace, and your throat becomes dry the longer you watch them get immersed in the fucking. You stagger a step back, panting lightly while feeling a foreign sensation pooling in your core. The warmth all over your body feels odd, bothering you greatly.

“Fuck, just like that.” The mask man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like a desperate whore you are.”

You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to drop.

Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A tut leaves his lips. “Naughty angel. Having fun watching your best friend fucking him like a whore?” It is Black.

“N-No.” You protest weakly, looking away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts the longer you watch them fuck. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he gropes the flesh of your breast with earnestness, while his other hand trails downward on your stomach before his fingers go underneath the material of your dress. You gasp inaudibly at the sensation of his fingers teasingly grazing across your clothed pussy, and you swear you can feel some form of essence leaking between your folds.

“N-No.” Your weak protest does nothing to stop Black from his assault on you while you watch with hooded eyelids as your best friend continues to fuck the mask man vigorously while the sounds emanating from them become pornographic.

“Fuck, you’re nearly soaked, angel.” Black nearly growls as his chest vibrates against your back, sending you shivers down your spine.

Light pants leave your lips as your mind is infused with impure thoughts, and your hips buck, as though in an attempt to entice Black, but he continues to tease you by stroking the outer of your womanhood.

The sound of a feminine scream pulls you out of the lustrous trance as you blink your eyes. Mortification hits you like whiplash, while guilt shrouds you. Gritting your teeth, you muster courage before slamming your elbow into his stomach hard, resulting in him releasing you while a painful groan emits from him.

“Y/N!” You hear Black roaring from behind, the sheer anger is palpable in his tone while you run as if your life depends on it, despite your ankle sending you signals that it needs medical attention as soon as possible.

Your brunette waves flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands of your locks stick to your face. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome.

A scream leaves your lips as soon as two lower-ranking knight members emerge from the bushes with different weapons in their grasp, bringing fright upon you. You run to the opposite side, and when you do, other knight members wreak terror upon you with their weapons, but they don’t do anything to you. It is also as though they are forcing you to go in the intended direction by scaring you relentlessly.

You choke back a sob, tears stinging in your eyes. You wish that this was all just a mere nightmare, but the exertion, the aches, and the pain all over your body say otherwise. You find yourself yearning to return to your beloved parents and the cosy ambience of your home, where you feel safe and loved.

A genuine scream of terror rips from your throat when Silver emerges from a shadow, holding an axe that is dripping with blood. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He asks mockingly, stalking towards you.

Tears stream down your cheeks, but you refuse to let out a cry. You back away from him quickly before turning around to run, but you crash into a solid chest and firm hands hold onto your waist, prompting you to look up and stare at Red with panicked eyes.

“Caught you, sweet angel.” You hear him purr with pleasure. You shove him in the chest, pushing him away from you. Facing your two predators, you back away in haste. Pure fear shines in your glistening eyes.

From your peripheral vision, you spot Black emerging from the tall bushes with a dagger in his grasp, and you can immediately discern his wrath, as evident in the way he trudges towards you.

“Stay away from me!” You begin to scream at them, tears are relentlessly streaming down your cheeks. “Leave me alone, you sick bastards!” You ignore the small voice in your mind that is berating you for saying a profanity.

“So the angel can scream.” Silver remarks with a cold chuckle. “Scream all you want, because no one will come to save you.”

Frantically, you grab a small rock at the side as you bend down before you throw it in the direction of Silver, who dodges in time. Silver scoffs out a chuckle. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, princess.”

You yelp out as you trip over something, resulting in you falling backward with your bum hitting the hard ground. You wince before you attempt to get away from them, crawling backwards as your three predators are nearing.

But at the moment your hand touches a boot behind you, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach before you force yourself to look up. Alas, White is staring down at you while in his grasp is a white handkerchief.

“You failed, sweetheart.” White says softly.

In an instant, Red hauls you up, forcing you to stand and holding you firmly by the arm. You whimper out a cry as you feel your hands being forced to the back as White has your forearms interlocked with one hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. We won’t be fucking you tonight.” Black chuckles darkly at the side, the anger that emanates from him is evident. “This is something to remember us by when you wake up, and when you do, remember our masks.”

Red grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

You open your mouth to speak, but White covers your mouth and nose with the white cloth, forcing you to inhale the substances that he had sprayed with. You struggle in their grasps with tears leaking from your eyes, but soon, you begin to lose strength while your mind becomes groggy.

Your hooded eyelids feel heavier with each passing second. Alas, you succumb to the darkness as it shrouds your whole being.

“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up!”

It feels as though your soul has been slammed down into your body as you jolt from your deep slumber. Fluttering your eyes open, you are greeted by the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling before you finally realise that you are back in your dorm. The exertion dawning on your body renders you immobile as you remain in bed.

You feel soft fingers stroking your cheek, prompting you to look at your childhood best friend, whose face has a twist of concern and sympathy. “Babygirl, you’re fine now.”

That is also when you realise the dampness on your cheeks. With Yunjin’s assistance, you raise your body to be vertical and lean on the headboard. You glance down and notice that you are in your Hello Kitty pyjama set.

A relief sigh leaves your lips. So whatever happened last night was just a mere nightmare. Yet, it is a nightmare that you will probably remember for the next few days.

“Is she awake?” Wonyoung’s voice draws your attention to her as she barges into your room. As soon as your eyes meet hers, you notice the sheer relief in her eyes. “Y/N, thank God you’re fine. You’ve been asleep for so long.”

“It wasn’t that long.” Yunjin tells Wonyoung before taking a glance at her phone screen. “Oh, wait. You’re right. Y/N missed breakfast and lunch.”

“What time is it?” You ask, finding it odd that your throat is dry and scratchy.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Yunjin replies as she gives you a sympathetic smile. “It’s understandable that you woke up this late.”

“I had a nightmare.” You mumble, your fingers tracing circles on your duvet that is covering your outstretched legs. “A really terrifying nightmare. I don’t think I ever want to experience that again.”

As Wonyoung sits on your other side, you immediately latch your arms around your best friends, bringing them into a hug while you sigh in contentment. “I’m glad it was just a nightmare.”

But they don’t reciprocate your hug, which brings a frown to your lips. You pull away from them and notice prudence in their heavenly features. “What?”

“Babygirl, what happened last night wasn’t a nightmare.” Yunjin tells you, her voice sounds quiet.

The relief you feel dissipates and is replaced by apprehension. Your chest feels constricted as fragments of the whole event that transpired last night coalesce into one. The last remark from Red remains vividly clear in your mind.

“It wasn’t?” You ask numbly, looking at Wonyoung for confirmation, and the latter nods her head. Your eyes trail down to her neck, noticing fresh purple and red hickeys on her porcelain skin.

“Hey, the other girls will be coming over─” Karina stops her sentence midway as she saunters into your room, her eyes meeting yours. “Y/N! You’re awake!” She grins at you, oblivious to your disheartened spirit. That is also when you notice bandages on her forehead and hands.

You uncover the duvet from your legs. The familiar throb in your swollen ankle serves as a reality that you did, in fact, attend Devil’s Night on your own accord, and you have no one else to blame but yourself.

“I helped to ice your ankle and apply some ointment.” Wonyoung tells you as she rubs your thigh soothingly. “It should heal in two or three days.”

You remain silent while your eyes turn crestfallen. Your three best friends exchange worried glances.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Yunjin asks gently, and when she touches your shoulder, you visibly flinch, bringing a frown to her lips.

The obscenity of your best friend willingly fucking herself onto one of the knight members is something you can’t erase, and you can’t help but feel sickened and disgusted. You're disgusted at her, and more importantly, you’re disgusted at yourself for bearing forbidden thoughts and for how you acted. You recoil from her touch, scooting slightly away from her before you return to lie on your bed with your back facing her.

“Yeah. I just want to be alone for now. Please.” You croak out pleadingly while tears spring from your eyes as you hug the duvet close to your chest.

“Fine, but don’t miss dinner, okay?” Wonyoung pats your arm gently before she proceeds to depart from your room alongside Karina and Yunjin. All the while, they become confused by your unusual behaviour.

“We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

Red’s words remain lingering in your mind, taunting you and evoking the familiar fear within you while dread crawls onto your skin.

With a faint of heart, you release the sobs you have been holding back, weeping in the comfort of your bed that is surrounded by your soft toys. You will definitely remember your first Devil’s Night, and it will also be your last.

You fear that the events that transpired on Devil’s Night have been engraved in your mind as well as rendering you traumatised, and you have no idea if you will ever recover from them.

You didn’t leave your room for the next few hours. Your eccentric behaviour worried your best friends gravely, and they took turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and have dinner, but you didn’t respond to any of them, causing them to resign and finally leave you alone.

It is not that you hate your best friends, but the fact that they don’t seem to be bothered by whatever happened last night and their normalcy confounds you. At the same time, you can’t help but feel resentful towards them. Knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, how do they still not find any issues in the Halloween event that entail such heinous pursuits?

You love your best friends, you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them.

“Mom.” You greet your mother on the line as you press speaker mode.

“Hey, sweetie. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep at this hour?” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice brings tears to your eyes while you try your best to hold back your sob. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe.

“I slept more than enough earlier.” You force out a laugh, wiping the fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Is Dad there?”

“He’s on a night shift.” Your mother informs you, but you sense a certain tone of knowingness in her tone as she continues to speak. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You raise your body vertically, sitting on the bed, while one of your soft toys is in your lap as you toy with its arm mindlessly.

“I know my daughter, Y/N. You hardly called me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”

Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks. “Am I still good, Momma?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.

“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull.

“But what if I did something bad?” You say sullenly. “What if I sinned?”

There is a brief silence on the line, and you can’t discern whether your mother is mad at you or not. “Sweetie, there is no denying that you are God’s blessed child, and purity has always been a big part of you, but you are a human just like the rest. You’re bound to make mistakes. So if you have sinned, you should already know what to do next.”

“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother.

“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Get some sleep, okay? It isn’t good to stay up too late. I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call.

Your gaze settles on the familiar book of the Bible on your nightstand. With your trembling hand, you reach out for the book. Once you have it in your possession, you begin to flip over the pages before your fingers halt at a certain page. At once, you begin to read.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Kazuha asks as soon as you dismount from her Yamaha bike. You proceed to give her the helmet before you adjust your slightly tousled hair, making it neater.

“I’m sure.” You tell her, a tinge of resolution glimmers in your eye despite the guilt that has been churning in your tummy. You give her a smile of gratitude. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. You’re my friend, aren’t you?” The leather-clad girl grins at you. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll fetch you. Besides, we’re long overdue for a date.”

You watch as Kazuha speeds off with the blaring noise from her engine, eliciting a chuckle from you as you know that your dear friend is simply flaunting her sleek black bike.

The smile on your lips flattens as soon as your gaze settles on the divine building. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.

You find yourself stepping forward before picking up the pace and entering the building. Thankfully, there are not many people. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you, as they also welcome you with warm smiles.

At once, you feel at ease, and the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins on your shoulder and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end. After all, you are God’s most loved child.

The priest, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, and once he sees your face, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been awhile, my child.”

You reciprocate his smile despite your nervousness. “School has been keeping me occupied.”

“What brings you here on a Sunday morning?” The priest asks.

You release a shaky breath while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt tightens around your heart. “I have a confession to make.”

His smile falters just slightly. He tips his head in the direction where the familiar booth of the sacrament of penance is, beckoning you to follow him. “Come, child.”

It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest.

“Whenever you are ready.” The priest says to you from the other side.

The events that transpired last night are like a film in your mind as you recall them. A tumultuous mixture of emotions is palpable within you while you attempt to remain collected.

With a shaky breath, you begin your confession, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned……”

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @darkjongsung @mlywon

#the devil's knights' prey #enhypen #enhypen hyung line #heeseung #jake #sunghoon #jay #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen poly #reverse harem #halloween #thriller #enhypen smut #enhypen hyung line x reader

963 notes · View notes

lxndonorris · 22 days

Text

a special day in maranello - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut Charles shows off his special black Monza suit x word count: 4880+ taglist: @game-set-canet @pitstopreality-f1 if you dont want to be tagged, or you want to be tagged, just let me know! requests are open for x-reader or ships :) EN: Went a little further than expected, but I hope you'll enjoy this"

It is the week of the Monza Grand Prix, one of the most anticipated weekends of the year, not just for the Tifosi but for the entire motorsport world.

The atmosphere is electric, with fans flocking to the region to witness Ferrari in action on home soil. But before the chaos of Monza can begin, there is an important stop to make at Maranello.

The Ferrari headquarter in Maranello is a place Charles and you have come to love. But this visit is different. This time, it isn't just about the preparations or meetings. There is something special planned, something that has been kept under wraps until now.

Charles invited you to join him for a photoshoot, something that is supposed to be "special." That's all he would say about it. No details, no hints, just that mischievous smile of his that both excites and unnerves you.

You are used to surprises with Charles, but this one has you feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

You arrived at Maranello in the early afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow over the landscape. Ferrari reserved a private room for you, a place where you could prepare for the shoot in peace.

The room is simple yet elegant, with a large window that offers a stunning view at the headquarters. Inside, there are racks of clothing, a few chairs, and a full-length mirror on one side. The gear is neatly arranged, but the most striking piece of equipment is a large, black privacy screen that stands in the corner.

Charles leads you into the room with his hand gently placed on the small of your back.

"This is it," he says with a grin. "Our little secret hideaway for the day."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, but you are also burning with curiosity.

"So, what's this all about? You've been so mysterious lately."

He chuckles softly, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You'll see soon enough. But first, I need to get ready."

You watch as he walks over to the privacy screen, picking up a neatly folded set of clothing on the way.

You're really not going to tell me anything, are you?" You ask, crossing your arms with a playful pout.

"Nope," he replies with a wink, disappearing behind the screen. "But don't worry, you won't be disappointed."

You take a seat in one of the chairs, your eyes glued to the screen. Even though you can't see him, you can hear everything—the rustle of fabric, the soft hum of his voice as he starts to change—it all adds to the anticipation.

"So," Charles begins, his voice light and teasing, "you're probably wondering what I'm putting on first."

"Obviously," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your heart is racing.

He chuckles again, the sound warm and inviting.

"Well, first comes the Nomex. You know, the fire-resistant underwear. It's essential for safety, but it's also surprisingly comfortable. Here, let me show you."

'He's putting on a racing suit', is the first thing that comes to your mind, making your heart race faster. You love seeing him in his red suit, but this visit means only one thing: a special suit for Monza.

And, of course, he isn't going to show you right away. Instead, he describes the feel of the fabric as he slides on the shirt and pants, his tone almost sensual as he runs his hands along his chest.

"It's soft, like a second skin," he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It fits snugly, molding to every curve. You'd be surprised how something so thin can make you feel so safe."

You swallow hard, your imagination running wild.

"I bet it looks good on you."

"You'll have to wait and see," he teases, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

Next, there is a pause, followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled.

"Now, the racing suit," he announces, his tone turning playful again. "This is the real deal. It's custom made, fits like a glove, and when you put it on, you know you're ready for anything."

You lean forward in your chair, straining to hear every word.

"And how does it feel?"

Charles lets out a satisfied sigh, clearly enjoying himself.

"It feels powerful. When I zip it up, it's like I'm putting on armor. It's tight, but in a good way. Every movement feels controlled, precise. It's a part of me, and when I'm in the car, there is nothing else like it."

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some sembience of composure.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," he admits, laughing softly. "But I'm also enjoying teasing you. It's fun seeing you squirm."

"Charles!" You exclaim, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

"All right, all right," he says, his tone turning a bit more serious. "I think it's time for the big reveal. Are you ready?"

Your heart skips a beat.

"Yes."

"Good," he replies. "I'm going to count down from five, and when I get to one, I'll step out. But I want you to promise me something."

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued.

"Promise me that whatever you see, you'll give me an honest reaction. No holding back."

You nod, even though he can't see you.

"I promise."

"Okay, here we go," he says, and you can hear the excitement in his voice.

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

And then he steps out from behind the screen.

Your breath catches in your throat.

He is dressed in a black racing suit, but this isn't just any suit. It is sleek, form-fitting, and accentuates every line of his body. The material shimmers slightly under the light, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Yellow accents trace the contours of the suit, adding a bold, striking contrast that makes the entire outfit pop.

But it isn't just the suit that takes your breath away. It is the way he carries himself, the confidence in his posture, the way he stands there with a slight smirk on his lips, knowing exactly the effect he has on you.

"So," he says, his voice low and velvety, "what do you think?"

Charles strikes a pose, his body angled in a way that showcases every contour of the racing suit. The black and yellow fabric clings to him perfectly, accentuating the sleek lines of his physique. His confidence is palpable, and the way he presents himself is nothing short of magnetic.

He holds the pose for a moment, his stance strong and assertive, his chest puffs out slightly as he tilts his head to the side. The suit gleams under the studio lights, the yellow accents highlighting the definition of his muscles and the tailored fit around his waist.

Then, with a fluid, almost theatrical movement, Charles begins to spin slowly. His movements are graceful and deliberate, allowing every angle of the suit to be seen.

As he turns, the black fabric shifts and ripples, the yellow highlights catching the light and creating a stunning contrast. He spins with a kind of effortless elegance, each turn revealing a new aspect of the suit. and his physique.

The way he moves is mesmerizing.

His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and powerful legs are on full display, each turn emphasizing the perfect fit of the racing suit. His smile is confident, and his eyes sparkle with a mix of pride and playful satisfaction.

It's clear he enjoys the attention, relishing the chance to show off how well the suit complemented his body.

As he completes another spin and faces you once more, he strikes another pose, his body perfectly angled to highlight the sleek lines of the suit.

His gaze meets yours, a hint of challenge in his eyes, as if daring you not to be completely captivated.

For a moment, you can't speak.

You can only stare at him, taking in every detail.

Finally, you find your voice.

"You look.... phenomenal."

His smirk widens into a full-blown smile."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. I really do." You say, taking another look at him, all of him.

He looks absolutely stunning, almost unreal in his black and yellow racing suit. But it isn't just the suit that makes him so captivating.

His tousled hair, with that perfect, 'just out of bed' look, the slight stubble along his jawline, his soft, inviting lips, and those pretty green eyes—they all come together to create a sight that is simply irresistible.

As he walks toward you, his movements are slow and deliberate, almost like a predator closing in on his prey.

His hands roam along his suit as if he can't resist touching the fabric himself. He runs them down his arms, across his chest, over his sides, and then down his abdomen, his fingers tracing the lines of his body.

You watch, completely entranced, as he licks his lips absentmindedly, his gaze locked onto yours.

There is an electric tension in the air, a palpable pull that you can't ignore.

Your body moves on its own, your hand reaching out, fingertips grazing the fabric of the suit. The material feels incredible under your touch—smooth, almost like silk, but with a strength that is unmistakable.

Your fingers roam over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric, and you can't help but marvel at how good it feels.

Charles smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"You like it?" he asks, his voice low and intimate, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

You nod, still running your fingers over his chest, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

"I do. It feels amazing."

He grins, a flash of pride lighting up his eyes.

"It's like carbon fiber. Ferrari put a lot of thought into it."

"You can tell," you reply, your fingers still exploring the suit, tracing the yellow accents that highlight his lean physique. "It looks good on you."

Charles's smile widens, and he leans in a little closer.

"I'm glad you think so. But you know, I could get used to hearing that a bit more."

You meet his gaze, and the playful challenge in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I think I deserve a few more compliments, don't you?"

You can't help but smile at his playful arrogance, but you are more than happy to indulge him.

"You look incredible, Charles. The suit fits you perfectly, and the way it shows off your body... it's almost unfair."

He hums softly in response, clearly enjoining every word.

"Go on," he encouraged, his tone teasing.

"You've got that effortlessly sexy look going on," you continue, your voice soft but sincere.

"Your hair, that stubble, those eyes... you're practically irresistible. And the way you wear this suit, like it's just an extension of you—it's like you are made for this."

Charles lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes darkening slightly with desire.

"I love it when you talk like that," he admits, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest.

"I love making you feel good."

"You do," he replies, his tone filled with a mix of affection and hunger.

He reaches up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine.

"You always do."

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside of the room fading away.

Charles leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips bruhsing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and intense.

The sensation of his lips, warm and inviting, sends a spark of electricity through your body, and you melt into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders.

As the kiss deepens, his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, the fabric of his suit is cool and smooth against your skin. There is something about the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, that makes you feel like you are the only thing that matters to him in that moment.

Then you notice the distinct, alluring scent of his cologne surrounding him. It is a rich, sphisticated fragrance, subtly blending with the fresh scent of the racing suit. The aroma is warm and comforting, with hints of cedarwood and a touch of citrus that lingers in the air, creating an intoxicating combination that is uniquely Charles.

The scent envelopes you as you get closer, creating a sensory experience that is both soothing and exhilarating. It's like being wrapped in a cloud of his presence, and you feel the warmth of his body through the fabric, the scent adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

Charles seems to notice your reaction.

His eyes soften with a mix of amusement and affection as he looks down at you.

"You like my cologne?" he asks, his voice low and slightly teasing.

You smile up at him, letting your fingers run down his chest again, savoring the feeling of the fabric and the scent that seems to blend perfectly with him.

"I do," you admit, your voice soft. "It's like an extra layer of you."

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your response.

Charles leans in closer, his eyes smoldering with a mix of affection and desire.

"Fuck, I'm getting so hard," he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of that familiar confidence.

You meet his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your lips.

"I can see that," you reply, your voice soft but laced with playfulness.

Your eyes begin their slow journey over him, taking in every detail once more.

The way the black racing suit hugs his body accentuates every muscle, every curve, in a way that is striking yet sensual. The suit seems almost to pulse with his energy.

His muscles are taut and defined, the fabric of his suit now straining slightly under the pressure, emphasizing the hard lines of his physique.

Charles grins, a pleased smile stretching across his lips.

"This feels so good."

You reach out slowly, your fingers grazing the surface of his suit, tracing a path along his chest, feeling the subtle shift of his muscles as you move your hand down his sides and across his abdomen.

Your touch is light but deliberate, savoring the warmth and firmness of his body.

Charles sighs contentedly, his eyes closing briefly as he enjoys the sensation of your fingers through his suit. His breath hitches slightly when your fingers trace the letters of his name along his waistline, the fabric stretching slightly as you move.

The intimacy of the moment, the way his body responded to your touch, makes your heart race.

Encouraged by his reaction, your fingers wander lower, exploring the contours of his body with newfound confidence.

You feel the tension in his muscles, the way the suit accentuates every movement. Each touch is met with a soft sigh or a subtle shift, and it is clear that he is thoroughly enjoying the attention.

Charles's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continue your exploration. The sensation of his body under your fingers, the way the suit clings and shifts, creates an intoxicating mix of excitement and intimacy.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" You murmur, your fingers tracing along his hips, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric.

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locked onto yours with desire.

"Absolutely," he says softly. "It feels amazing. But it's even better because you're the one doing this."

You smile, leaning in slightly, your fingers continuing their journey.

"I'm glad I can make you feel this way."

He lets out a low, contented hum, almost a purr, his grip on your waist tightening as he revels in the closeness.

Your fingers trace a little lower, savoring the way his body responds to your touch. The suit seems almost to come alive under your fingers, amplifying every sensation, every movement.

His reaction, the way his breath hitches and his body tenses, makes you feel like you are exploring a private, cherished part of him.

"Does this feel good?" You ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"More than you can imagine," Charles replies, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how... good I feel right now."

Each sigh, each shift of his body, makes the moment feel even more special.

As you gently stroke his abdomen, Charles's eyes close again, his breathing deepening as he savors the sensation. He leans into your touch, his expression one of pure contentment. It is clear that this moment, this connection, is something he cherishes as much as you do.

The air between you crackles with anticipation as your hand slowly finds the zipper of his suit. His eyes dart open and follow your movements intently, every breath between you heavy with expectation.

You hesitate for just a moment, letting the tension build before you begin to slowly pull the zipper down.

As the zipper descends, the black fabric parts to reveal the Nomex underneath, hugging his body like a second skin.

The slightly damp fabric is smooth, taut, and incredibly form-fitting, showing off every muscle, every contour of his athletic physique. The red fabric contrasted sharply with his skin, making the sight even more captivating.

Charles sighs softly, the sound full of both relief and pleasure, his chest rising and falling as he exhales deeply. You can't help but marvel at the sight before you—the tight Nomex accentuating his lean muscles, the way it clings to him, leaving little to the imagination.

Your heart races as you take it all in, your fingers itching to touch him, to feel the heat of his body beneath the fabric.

However, before you can make another move, Charles slips out of the upper half of his racing suit, letting the top half fall to his waist, revealing his torso.

Through the thin Nomex, you can see every line of his chest, the muscles of his abdomen flexing slightly as he moves. The material is so thin, so close to his skin, that it is almost as if nothing is there at all. It is an invitation you can't resist.

You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment, and place your hand on his chest.

The Nomex feels cool to the touch, but underneath, his skin is warm and firm. You feel his muscles shift under your fingertips, flexing subtly as he responds to your touch.

All of him is intoxicating—the power, the strength, all right there under your hand.

Charles lets out a low, pleased hum, clearly enjoying the way you are exploring him.

His hand slides to your waist again, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. His other hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

His lips hover just above yours, his breath warm and sweet against your mouth. He is so close that you feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, sense the way his chest expands and contracts with each inhale.

"How do I look?`" he asks, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

You are breathless, completely caught up in the moment, on him.

Your eyes roam over his face, his hair still tousled, his stubble giving him a rugged, irresistible edge, his green eyes dark with desire.

And his body, clad in the tight Nomex, is a sight that leaves you utterly speechless.

"Amazing," you finally manage to whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean into him, your heart racing.

That is all he needed to hear.

Charles closes the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in an intense kiss. The moment your lips meet, it's like everything else fades away—the room, the world outside—all of it ceases to exist. There is only him, only this.

His kiss is full of passion, but there is also something gentle, something reverent about the way he holds you, as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him.

His hands on your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the heat of his body through his shirt; the hard lines of his muscles press against you.

You melt into him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, then down his chest, feeling the way his body reacts to your touch. His muscles tense firmly under your fingers, the sensation sending a rush of heat through you.

The kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands exploring every inch of him, reveling in the feel of his strong, powerful body under the thin fabric.

"Mhmm," he moans into your mouth as his hands move to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your head slightly, deepening the kiss even further.

You feel his breath quickening, matching the rapid beat of your own heart.

When you finally break apart, you are both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other's, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted, a small, satisfied smile playing on his face.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers, his voice rough and his accent coming through more.

You smile, your heart swelling with desire.

"I think I do," you whisper back, your fingers still tracing the lines of his chest.

He opens his eyes then, looking at you with such intensity that it makes your knees weak.

That's when you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing against your waist. A shiver runs through you at the sensation, and you can't resist the urge to tease him, a playful smile curving your lips.

"Well, someone's enjoying themselves," you murmur, your voice light and teasing as you raise an eyebrow at him.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound deep and rich.

"Can you blame me?" He replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Look at what I've got in front of me."

His playful response only makes you bolder; your hands begin their slow descent down his body, fingers tracing over the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, feeling the way his breath hitches slightly as you move lower.

The closer you get to his waist, the more you can feel the tension building in him, the anticipation.

As your hands continue to roam, Charles lets out a soft, involuntary moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat.

You let your fingers dip lower, stroking him through the racing suit, feeling the heat of his arousal against your hand.

Charles bites down on his lower lip, his eyes darkening with desire as he gazes down at you. The way he looks at you, the way he responds to your touch only fuel the fire inside you.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice strained, though still laced with that playful edge. "You're going to drive me insane."

You smile up at him, continuing to tease, enjoying every moment of his reaction.

"Isn't that the point?"

Charles let out a low, appreciative laugh, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

His breathing quickened as he let out another low sigh.

"I'm really close," he admits, his voice strained with desire and frustration. The evidence of his arousal presses firmly against you, growing more intense as your fingers continue to stroke him through the suit.

The fabric stretches, forming a visible tent, yet the black fabric is slightly hiding it. Still, you feel the warmth of his arousal growing, and you notice the fabric growing damp with his pre-cum. His breath hitches, and his eyes plead with you, showing just how close he is to the edge.

You look up at him; your expression a mixture of playful defiance and genuine affection.

"You can't ruin the suit yet," you tease softly, though the warmth in your tone reveals just how much you are enjoying this.

Charles's eyes widen slightly with frustration, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he tries to steady himself.

"I'm just so close," he says, his voice a desperate whisper, his body trembling as he fights to hold on.

You keep your touch light and teasing, drawing out the moment as much as you can.

"Patience," you murmur, your voice a gentle caress against his ear.

"The suit's not going anywhere. And neither are we."

Charles's grip on you tightens even more, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"You're really driving me crazy," he whimpers, a soft groan escaping his lips as he struggles to keep his composure.

You smile at him, your fingers continuing their slow, teasing caress.

"That's the idea, I told you," you whisper, your voice full of playful affection. "But I promise, we'll have our time. Just a little longer."

The tension is almost unbearable, the heat of the moment making it clear how much you both want to give in to your desires. His eyes are dark with need, his body presses firmly against yours as he fights to maintain control.

"I'll be patient," he says finally, though his voice is thick with desire. "But only if you promise me that we'll finish this soon."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips."You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"I promise."

With a final, lingering kiss, Charles reluctantly steps back, his arousal still evident but his composure regained.

As Charles adjusts his suit in preparation for the photoshoot, his movements are deliberate and confident; his hands glide over the fabric, smoothing it out and ensuring everything is in place.

Yet, there is a clear focus on specific areas—his chest, his abdomen, his thighs, and the prominet bulge that is still slightly damp.

With a mixture of frustration and need, his hands linger on his chest, his fingers tracing the defined muscles beneath the Nomex. He then moved to his abdomen, his touch firm and almost possessive, as if trying to regain control over his body's reaction.

His gaze drops to the growing bulge at his waistline, and he sighs, his breath catching slightly as he feels the evidence of his arousal.

"Barely held on there," he murmurs, his voice thick with both relief and frustration as he glances at you, his expression a blend of desire and amusement.

You can't help but tease him, a playful smile spreading across your lips.

"I can tell," you reply. "Looks like you're having a hard time keeping it together."

Charles's eyes sparkle with a mix of annoyance and amusement as he meets your gaze.

"You're really pushing your luck," he says, though there is an undeniable edge of affection in his tone.

"You make it so easy," you tease, reaching out to gently brush your fingers against the damp spot on his suit, feeling the warmth of his arousal through the fabric. The contact makes him shiver, his breath hitching again.

He gives a soft, almost helpless laugh, shaking his head.

"You're impossible," he says, though there is no real reproach in his voice. "But you're right. It's all your fault."

You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Charles's lips twitch into a reluctant smile, his eyes dark with desire once more.

With one last, lingering look, he adjusts his suit one final time, making sure everything is perfectly in place before you have to leave for the photoshoot.

His movements are more controlled now, though the lingering evidence of his earlier arousal is still apparent.

With a final glance in your direction, he reaches for his black ferrari cap on the nearby table. He flips it in his hand for a moment, as if considering something before sliding it onto his head, the bill casting a shadow over his eyes, giving him an air of confident mystery.

He turns to the mirror, his eyes roaming over his reflection. Slowly, he licks his lips, his gaze focused on the way the cap and the racing suit completed the look.

You watch him for a moment, the way he studies himself, clearly satisfied with how everything came together. Unable to resist, you smile and ask.

"Are you satisfied with what you see?"

Charles chuckles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

"I think I am," he replies, his tone playful but with a hint if genuine appreciation for the way he looks.

He takes another moment to admire himself, running his fingers through his stubble and along his jawline, before letting his gaze linger on the way the suit fit his form, especially around the waist, before turning to dace you fully.

"You know," he adds, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, " I think I might even like it more with you standing next to me."

You blush slightly at his words, a soft laugh, escaping you as you shake your head.

"Always the charmer;" you tease, though you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his compliment.

"Only for you," he murmurs, his eyes softening as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture tender and full of affection.

With a final look in the mirror, Charles takes a deep breath, the playful edge returning to his expression as he turns to you.

"Alright," he says, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's go show them what this suit can do."

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut

418 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 8 months

Text

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

------------------------

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

------------------------

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

1K notes · View notes

logansdoll · 1 month

Text

pep talk

part two of "contingency"

CW: fluffy fluff, suggestive, profanity, takes place after X2 (Jean survives), the girls are so kind to you, you have to adjust to modern life, angst if you squint, etc.

"No way!" you exclaimed, eyes wide as you grabbed the remote, completely taken aback as you flicked through station after station.

Rogue nodded, grabbing another wildflower growing out your palm and tucking it in your hair, slightly amused by your surprise.

"You guys have so many channels! How is that possible?"

"Science," Kitty shrugged. "We have a whole bunch of new technology now."

"Wait 'til we show you what a flip-phone is..." Jubilee smirked, tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

"A flip-phone?" you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"That's somethin' we can tackle t'morrow," Rogue assured, carefully placing another peony in another section.

After being rescued from Alkali Lake, and getting a quick check-up from Jean, the students were more than eager to welcome you into the mansion.

And because of your obvious gap in knowledge in anything after 1988, the older girls took it upon themselves to educate you.

Of course, Ororo made sure you had at least a week to get your bearings about yourself before releasing the hounds.

"Wait, so Tom Selleck doesn't count as hot now? And Stallone isn't in all the action movies anymore?" you asked, skimming through some of the magazines Jubilee managed to grab out her closet.

"Who?" Kitty raised a brow.

"Eighties hunks," Jubilee clarified before turning to you. "And they've moved aside to make way for the hotties of the 21st century. Like Johnny Depp."

"Please," Rogue scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Johnny Depp is not hot."

"Tell that to People," Kitty grinned, holding up a tabloid that read SEXIEST MAN ALIVE in bold letters right above Depp's head-shot.

"He's not too bad," you nodded, getting a good look at his face.

'He's got nothing on Jimmy...'

"See," Jubilee smirked, crossing her arms in triumph. "If he's not a modern-day knock-out then who is?"

"Brad Pitt," Rogue answered, matter-of-factly.

"I knew you were gonna say that!"

"You watched Fight Club with Bobby, didn't you?" Kitty teased.

"Shut up!"

"Fight Club?" you turned to Kitty for explanation.

"It's a movie about guys fighting each other and trying to bring down capitalist society."

"And Brad Pitt getting all shirtless and sweaty," Jubilee cheekily whispered, earning a pillow to the face. "Hey!"

"There," Rogue smiled, placing the finishing touch before giving your shoulder a soft pat. "All done."

Carefully, you stood up, walking over to the full length mirror near the closet and smiling brightly at what you saw.

Your hair was adorned with all different flavors of bloom, the vibrant colors only enhancing your natural beauty.

"I love it," you smiled, marveling her even placement.

"Ugh. I'd kill Kitty to look like that," Jubilee slumped, resting her cheek in her palm.

"Sitting right here, dude," Kitty sighed.

"I can do you next, if you like," Rogue offered.

"Here," you nodded, sprouting a bouquet of wildflowers out one of their potted plants before sliding on your slippers. "You girls can keep going. I think I'm gonna go on a walk."

"Cool," Jubilee nodded, watching you make your way to the door. "If we don't see you again then good night~"

You paid the odd inflection no mind, waving goodbye before taking your leave, shutting the door behind yourself.

And once the coast was clear, Jubilee smirked, turning to the others with a knowing look.

"I think we all know who she's going to go see, right?"

"Oh, totally."

"Absolutely."

So preoccupied with Jubilee, you failed to remember just how drafty the mansion got at night, cursing yourself for forgetting your sweater in the room.

"I hate the cold..." you grumbled, hugging yourself tight.

Walking through the hall, you could hear the rustling of students on the other sides of the doors.

Some were debriefing about the events of the day, some were sleeping.

Others talking about the Alkali Lake incident.

Your face fell at the reminder.

James had told you countless times that what happened wasn't your fault, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

When you were cornered by Stryker's mutant-hunting task force, you thought you could fight them back, but you couldn't even take down one.

Granted, they were highly trained professionals, and you'd never used your mutation to fight before...

But that was no excuse.

What did that leave you as?

A) A helpless damsel, who needed her prince to bail her out of a pinch?

Or B) A stupid girl who let herself get put on ice because she wasn't strong enough to fight back?

C) All of the above.

"Whoa. You think any harder and you'll have steam comin' outta your ears," Logan noted, somehow in front of you.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, eyes wide as you instinct took over, punching something that felt like a brick wall.

'Where did he come from?!'

He grunted, holding his side, "You hit... hard."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you winced, guiltily, as you moved closer to inspect it, carefully moving his hand. "It was just so dark and you scared the hell outta me."

You lifted his tank top, trying your best to check for a forming bruise in the dim light.

But there was nothing there, his healing factor kicking in much faster than you expected.

"Was thinking of about telling you a joke about how much you take my breath away, but I think you're a little preoccupied at the moment," he looked down at you, a grin spreading across his lips at your staring.

You scoffed, cheeks burning as you pulled his shirt down.

"Couldn't sleep?" you asked, quickly switching the subject, tightening your arms around yourself.

Logan smiled, your words fading into the background as he took the time to get a good look at you.

And fuck... a look you where.

You exchanged your low-rise jeans and long-sleeve (courtesy of Ororo) for a tank top and shorts, your curves now on display quite nicely.

"Nope," he shook his head, somehow making the motion sexy. "You?"

You sighed, commending yourself for making it this far—you were this close to pouncing on him.

"I just need some air, so I'm going on a walk. And speaking of..." you continued on, stepping around the large man to continue your stroll.

It caught him by surprise, but he quickly turned around, catching up to and getting in front of you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey," he halted, brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," you assured, poorly. "Just trying to get past."

"Nuh uh. Don't do that," he shook his head. "Don't downplay this. Somethin's wrong. I can see it all over your face."

'Shit.'

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping at being caught.

"I can't stand you, y'know that?"

"Start talking."

"Have I ever told you how good you look in blue jeans?"

"(y/n)."

"Alright."

You exhaled, steeling your nerves in case things went awry.

"Look... Jimmy..." you started, choppily, taking his hand in yours. "Fifteen years is a long time... too long for some people."

You cursed yourself as you could already feel a lump forming in your throat.

You hadn't even started yet.

"To me, it feels like yesterday we were at our place in the Rockies, making dinner together and talking about our day, renting shitty movies and falling asleep on the couch together."

The memories flowed over you like a calm tide, a smile stretching onto your lips as you recalled pretending to fall asleep so he'd carry you to bed.

But it wasn't long before those waters dried up, leaving nothing but cracked, jagged sand underneath.

"But to you, it was a lifetime ago. And a person can... move on... given the right conditions."

"What're you saying?" he asked, firmly.

"I'm saying that it's okay if you've moved on from me, James," you blurted, your voice having a slight crack.

It hurt even more to say it out loud.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, even more confused, as his hands came around to hold you.

"You've spent the better half of fifteen years unaware that I even existed. And now that I've popped back into your life, I don't want you to feel obligated to love me because of something that happened in the past... I couldn't do that to you. Especially if you have feelings for someone else."

"And who else could I possibly I have feelings for?" he asked, sarastically.

"Jean," you stated, flatly. "I see the way she looks at you. She may be with Scott, but that's the look of a woman who's willing to test the waters. And I don't want to get in the way if that's something you want to pursue."

Amused, and honestly speechless, Logan could do nothing but laugh, slightly offended that you thought of him as that type of man.

"What's so funny?" you asked softly, eyes saddening as you watched him, quite hurt that he was laughing.

He cracked a grin, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"Baby, you're talkin' about me gettin' with another woman as you stand here, wrapped in my arms, and about to come back to bed with me."

Huh?

His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled you in closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"(y/n), you are my wife, you hear me? My wife," he spoke sincerely, eyes never leaving you for a moment. "My memories might've been taken before, but they're all back now. And I remember every goddamn detail about you, about us, and about our life before all this bullshit."

You were too stunned to speak.

You knew James could get serious, but you never knew he could get serious.

It was doing some things to you.

"I don't want no one else because, to me, there is no one else. And the quicker you get that through your head, the quicker we can get back to bed 'cause it is fuckin' freezin' out here."

You snickered, both tickled and appalled by his horribly blunt speech.

"That was the worst pep talk I've ever had," you chuckled, shaking your head as you cupped his cheek in your hand.

"Not my strong suit," he finished with a smirk.

But that was all he needed before he roughly kissed you, pulling you in by the nape of your neck.

You kissed back just as passionate, sliding your hands down to his chest as he leaned in, getting the better angle on you.

One of his hands dropped to grab your thigh, hiking it up and pulling you flush against him in an attempt to keep you as close as possible.

But, quickly, you both separated, panting, abuzz with excitement as you rested against each other.

"Bed. Now," he growled in your ear, suddenly hoisting you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

"Jimmy!" you quietly squealed, your face burning with embarrassment as he landed a loud slap on your ass.

'God, I hope the kids are asleep...'

taglist !!

@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce @shakysif @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

551 notes · View notes

jymwahuwu · 1 month

Note

Imagining Moze fucking you in front of a mirror but you can’t see him <3

Mirror play!! This is so perfect for Moze. He has the ability to make himself transparent, but everything is happening... 😚

cw: yandere, non-con, mirror sex, jealousy, possessive behavior

Freaking out, right? There is a full-length electronic mirror with a white frame in your room. You usually turn it to face the wall. Only turn it when you need to look in the mirror to change clothes. You fix your clothes and hair in front of the mirror. It's the day you're getting dressed up and going on a cosmic speed date (or you've been convinced/forced to go on a speed date by your friends).

You tilt your head, holding two hangers in your hands, matching the appropriate outfits, and ask the mirror which outfit suits you. But - there are fingertips caressing your back. A numbing sensation touches you unexpectedly, and fear rushes to your scalp. You were so frightened that you took your hands off the hangers and turned your head sharply, but you didn't see anyone, not even a shadow. The momentum, not a rough but firm grip, pushes you in front of the mirror. The smooth and clear mirror still did not reflect anyone's figure.

You opened your eyes wide and witnessed the clothes you were most satisfied with being taken off piece by piece by invisible forces and fell on your feet. Your top was pulled up and fixed in front of your chest, exposing your breasts to the mirror. So weird. Beyond terrible. You screamed and struggled, but your butt was grabbed by the invisible hands and you couldn't move at all. "No dates, please," the deep voice requested. It's vaguely familiar but you can't remember where you've heard it. Just when you were confused, the cock head was already rubbing your private parts.

"Ahh… I'm not going, please, I'm not going on a date!!" And then you spend the next half day being folded and twisted in various positions, being fucked by the invisible guy in front of the mirror. Your head is pushed by the invisible hands, and your legs are fixed and pulled to the highest position. Your eyes have no choice but to stare at yourself in front of the mirror, being ravaged to a complete mess and constantly reaching orgasm.

#yandere moze x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x you

447 notes · View notes

sinofwriting · 3 months

Text

Claiming - Charles Leclerc (Dark Fic)

Words: 1,310 Summary: In a world where F1 drivers can claim someone as a wife while at a race, here is Charles' version. Note(s): DARK FIC, this is dark. Dubious Consent/Touching (not sexual), Reader was essentially kidnapped. I will be making other fics like this for a few other drivers where they claim a wife. And thank you 🦢 anon for this idea and all your thoughts! Edit: Takes place during/after Imola 2024

Masterlist | Support Me!

She doesn’t want to sit on the bed. She doesn’t want to be in this room. She doesn’t want him touching her. But she doesn’t want to make him angry, fears what his reaction could be, what he could do to her. So she sits at the edge of the luxurious hotel bed. Her shoulders hunching, her hands gathered in her lap, her legs pressed painfully tight together.

She’s taking up as little space as she can, but he still sits right next to her, his thigh pressing against her and she has to resist flinching.

“You are so tense.” He murmurs, his voice practically caressing her ear. The sound of it makes her release a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. And in doing so she takes in a breath, nearly becoming dizzy at the perfect smell of his cologne. “I’m sorry.” She manages to say. He clicks his tongue, running a hand up and down her back. It’s supposed to be a soothing touch and she has to force herself not to tense further. “Don’t apologize, mon ange. Would a bath help?” She eagerly nods at the suggestion, wants to weep at the idea of it.

She needs a moment alone. Ever since she was taken to Ferrari’s garage, she’s had him right there by her, never more than an arms length away. She wants to sink into scalding water and let the pain of it distract her from what has happened.

“Please.” She whispers. He smiles, pleased, and she hates that she likes the look on him. “I’ll go get it started.” She wants to protest, but he’s pressing his lips to her forehead and then standing, striding over to the bathroom. And she remains frozen on the bed, even when she hears the sound of water rushing out and hitting the tub.

When Charles comes back, he’s shirtless and she makes a noise at the sight. He gives her another pleased smile. “I prefer my baths to be very hot, so if you’d like it to be cooler, you will have to wait a few minutes.” He tells her, gesturing for her to join him and she does, letting him guide her with a hand on the back into the bathroom. Stepping inside, she lets out a shaky breath. The entire mirror is steamed up and she can see how hot the water is in the large tub. “Thank you.” “Of course.” She waits for a moment for him to leave, but he just continues to look at her, eyes half lidded, lips ever so slightly parted as he leans against the bathroom counter.

She turns away from him, tears threatening to prick her eyes, and she forces herself to breath as she reaches for the hem of her polo. As soon as it’s pulled over her head, she nearly shakes. She wants to ask him to look away, to stop watching her undress, she can feel his eyes on her. She wants to drop to her knees and beg for him to come back when she’s fully naked. She’s never gotten undressed in front of anyone. It feels intimate to do so, it feels worse somehow for him to be watching her do this.

Her bra comes off next and she can hear the sound of his breathing pick up as it drops onto the floor, the skin of her back exposed to him. She takes her underwear and pants off at the same time, thankful when her socks come off as well.

She thinks she’s supposed to turn to him, to let him get a full look at her, but the bath is right there, calling her name, the water clear, no bath bomb or bubbles to hide anything. He could get a full look at her like that.

Stepping into the bath, she shudders at the feeling of near burning hot water. It laps around her and while she normally sinks into her baths, this time she eases herself down and into the water. Her eyes closing when she is fully in and laying down, the top of her neck even a little wet.

She almost forgets that he is there, but then a hand is caressing her shoulder and this time she can’t help her flinch. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and she hates that it sounds sincere. “Scoot up for me?” Grabbing at the sill of the tub, she carefully pulls herself forward, stopping when he makes a noise. “Good girl.” He murmurs and suddenly the water rises against her and her eyes fly open when she feels the sensation of skin grazing her back and as she looks down, she sees legs on either side of her body just barely not touching her. Then hands are on her hips, gently guiding her back until her back is pressed against a naked chest and she can feel him against her. His hands move from her hips so he can wrap his arms around her.

He lets out a happy sound at contact. “Comfortable?” She forces herself to nod. “Good. Now just relax, mon ange. You’ll feel much better.”

—

She wakes up and Charles is still holding on to her, his grip tight but not bruising, so clearly keeping her there and she can’t help but cry.

She was his forever, he had claimed her, the paperwork probably already has been registered. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her family. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but it does and she has to slap a hand over her mouth.

She was never going to see her mom, have her fuss over her. Her dad was never going to call her champ, she was never going to get to eat his food again. Her grandmother and her heart aches even more. She was never going to see her grandma again, feel her hand against her cheek as she looked in her eyes, making sure that when she said of course I’m happy that she actually was. She was never going to get the family dinners with so many things being passed around it made her dizzy. The shots that everyone took if they were old enough.

She doesn’t realize it, but her whole body is shaking and it wakes the man holding her.

“Mon ange,” his voice is thick with sleep and confusion and she holds her breath. “What’s the matter?” She doesn’t say anything, her body still shaking, but she hopes her lack of response will make him think that she’s asleep. It doesn’t, his hands move around her body until he easily can turn her so she’s facing him. “Oh,” his eyes are wide, voice mournful as he sees her tears. “What happened?” She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with tears in her eyes, hand still clamped over her mouth. His brows furrow and he moves her hand away from her mouth. “What is wrong? What has you crying?” “I’m never gonna see them.” The words come out and she’s gasping for breath and his brows furrow more. “Who, mon ange?” “My family. I’m never going to see my mom or my dad. My grandma, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. I’m never going to see any of them again.” She’s sobbing and she hates that when he runs a hand over her back, trying to calm her before urging her to press her face into his chest, she does. “Of course you will.” He finally says when she’s calmed a little. The words have her pulling back, silent as she stares at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, running a finger beneath her eye to get rid of the tears still clinging there. “Of course you will see them again. They make you happy and I want to know my in-laws, after all.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc dark fic #f1 dark fic #claiming a wife : charles #sins fics #claiming a wife

963 notes · View notes

hoe4sports · 1 month

Text

Nobody likes the angry girl

A note from the author: I saw a video that hit home. It was a tiktok about being told that “nobody likes the angry girl”. I was the angry girl as a child, and by now you probably know that this is a fic based off of my life. I am not enabling this kind of behaviour, but I’m trying to show you how it can feel to struggle with trauma. Traumas need constant work, love and attention.

If you are struggling with the same thing; you are not a monster. You will get there. It’s not your fault. I love you.

Credits: This is based off a tiktok that I saw, you can find it here. Courtesy of @young.Riley on TikTok.

Warning: Trauma, anger, anxiety

Summary: Your childhood has caused more damage than Alexia could ever believe.

⚠️If you feel easily triggered or overwhelmed, read with caution and take breaks. If you need to, please seek a mental health hotline.

—

“Nobody likes the angry girl”. That was a sentence that would be thrown after you as if it was a knife. Your mother would use it when you did something she didn’t like. Speaking up for yourself, telling her how you felt, wanting her love or being upset. She would describe you as angry if you weren’t a pleasure or the quiet girl.

Alexia however, she is patient with the angry girl. She understands the angry girl because she took her time to understand her. She asked the questions and listened to the stories. She knew what caused you to become the angry girl. How your mother’s words cut through your back causing scars in your heart. Alexia knew that the angry girl carried her heart outside her sleeve. She loved the angry girl with every cell in her body.

The Spanish heat was flowing in through the kitchen windows. You breathed in the air filling your lungs all the way up. Your body felt sweaty after working in the garden for a while. It was mid day, and you had gotten the week off. It was a nice change, your workplace had decided to work on their employees wellbeing giving all of your colleagues a week off. You see, that was the recipe for a perfect week. Only, whenever you got too much time off: your mind and unconsciousness would deep dive into your childhood making your mood miserable and leaving your emotions on edge.

You decided that the best thing to do was to head into the shower, so you approached the bedroom where you pulled out a pair of black athletic bike shorts and a blue athletic long sleeve. Just as you were about to close the door to the wall in closet, you noticed that alexia had left clothes in the floor. Not just on the floor, but right next to the laundry basket. The mishap itched you the wrong way. “Of course”, you mumbled to yourself, “of course she would leave me to pick it up when she knows that I hate when she does that.” You reached for the clothes before chucking it into the basket. It made you feel annoyed. Like your blood was boiling. But you pushed it down. You didn’t want to have a meltdown, not when Alexia had a stressful week.

When you entered the bathroom, you quickly started the water making the shower heat up before getting undressed. That was when you noticed the toothpaste on the mirror. Your face dropped when you saw it. Jesus, you thought, you just cleaned it yesterday. It made it feel like Alexia didn’t appreciate your hard work of trying to keep the house in shape. You grabbed a rag after spraying the mirror, washing the full length of the mirror. You couldn’t just was the one spot with toothpaste, because then it would cause streaks. And you hated streaks. When you turned around to feel the temperature of the running water with your hand, you stepped into cold water with your socks. It made you feel furious. “Oh my god” you mumbled to yourself. You took a deep breath with your eyes closed. Then, your hands reached for a dry towel to wipe up the water that Alexia had left for you to step on.

But, your hand didn’t find anything. You turned your head to see that there were no towels. You took a quick deep breath feeling as if you were about to explode. The robe that was hanging on its hook came to use when you wrapped yourself in it heading into the linen closet to restock towels. Alexia knew that there were fresh towels in the closet. They were neatly folded, white cream towels made out of bamboo. You grabbed the bunch that were sitting on the shelf before stomping your way into the bathroom. The towels got placed in its shelf before you wiped up Alexia’s mess from earlier this morning.

You see, the thing about being the angry girl is that it becomes your identity. You are never smart, talented, beautiful or a joy; because in your mother’s eyes, all you are is the angry girl. When she gave you silent treatment as a 5 year old and you cried for days begging her to speak to you. The first thing she said when you sat there, tears filling your eyes was that nobody likes the angry girl. It hurt like a gunshot. And whenever she used it, it felt like you got shot again. And again. And again. And again. Even though you don’t talk to your mother anymore, you are still the angry girl in her eyes. You will never be anything more.

After your shower, you sat down on the toilet while drying off. Your hand instantly reached for your phone which lead you to watch TikTok. It was childishly enough the only thing that would give your brain a pause. Some days, you had to take yourself on a timeout to watch TikTok with your headphones underneath your blanket it your dark bedroom. Maybe it was the feeling of overwhelming that hit you and maybe that was why this became the solution? Or perhaps it was because whenever you said anything about your feelings, your mother would tell you to go to your bedroom?

You kept watching TikTok before you reached for the toilet paper. And, lo and behold, there was no toilet paper. You could’ve sworn that your eye twitched for a second. But you reached out to the cabinet underneath the sink and popped the new roll on the holder before getting rid of the empty roll.

After feeling the anger building up inside you like a tidal wave, you decided to try to have something to eat. Perhaps, you thought, just perhaps you are hangry and it will all pass once you’ve had some food. Then you remembered that you had leftovers from Lasagna in the refrigerator. You peered into the kitchen and opened the big fridge door before feeling your heart sink. No lasanga. Alexia had brought it with her to practice. It made you frown because you knew damn well that Alexia had all kinds of food in the Barca cafeteria that she would eat from. Even fresh lasagna.

In a need to calm yourself down, you decided to go for a drive to the grocery store. You put on some makeup and do your hair all nice before grabbing your purse and heading out. You press the keyless start button in your car and there is a flashing sign. You are out of gas. Alexia borrowed your car yesterday. You feel your blood boiling. You hop out of your car before smacking the door as hard as you can. Then you stomp your way upstairs to the bedroom to hide from the world and your own problems. You stay hidden in the bedroom for hours. Hiding underneath your weighted blanket hoping that you will fall asleep. That’s one of the angry girl strategies, sleeping. She will close her eyes and keep them shut for hours to avoid confrontation.

But, the attempt to calm down is quickly paused. Your eyes peer open when you hear Alexia’s familiar footsteps in the hallway. “Hola, amor!” She calls out. You can tell that she’s in a good mood. The kind of mood that makes you feel sick to your bones when the angry girl is out. You tuck the blanket around your head so only your face sticks out. “..Amor? Are you sick, no?” Alexia asks softly when she opens up the door to the bedroom. You huff out in response hoping to keep the angry girl away. Alexia sits down next to you on the bed. She gives you the most loving look. It makes the angry girl scared. God, you think. You are so unloveable. Your eyes starts to look like glass, but Alexia dosent seem to catch it. “I’ll go make you some tea. Blueberry?” she askes before placing a kiss on your forehead. You nod in response.

Why is the world against me today, you think. Keeping your head calm when the storm is flaring up isn’t easy, the angry girl inside you is peeking out from the heavy blackout curtains she normally is forced to hide behind. You see, the angry girl looks big and scary. She’s hiding behind curtains as she takes up the whole room. But, the angry girl isn’t a big girl. She’s small. She’s little. She looks big because of the shadows from the lights, but she is small. She is so small. She’s easy to hurt. And she’s sensitive.

The angry girl comes out with a bang. Alexia drops the cup in the kitchen causing you to practically jump out of bed. It scares you shameless, and the angry girl feels put on the spot. You stomp into the kitchen, your face strained and your body tight. You look at the cup on the ground. Or, what was left of it. You instantly recognise it. That is what causes the angry girl to jump out. “ALEXIA!! Seriously?? My moomin mug? From my grandmother?? Seriously?? You are so clumsy, so irresponsible! God, you are so fucking annoying! Why do you ruin everything!” The angry girl yells out feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Alexia looks caught off guard before her looks softens. “You are right mi vida, i shouldn’t have dropped it. Lo siento mucho princesa” she speaks softly. Her body slowly moves towards you. When she dosent get angry back, the little girl feels scared. For some reason, that causes the angry girl to feel threatened. “Don’t fucking touch me, Alexia! Don’t you dare to fucking touch me!” The angry girl yells before turning around and sprinting to the bedroom. Your hand quickly turns the lock before your throw yourself on the bed, face looking into the wall as tears of anger swells in your eyes. You can hear Alexia outside of the door. “Leave me alone!! God, will you ever fucking learn? I should just move out!!” The angry girl screams before pulling the blanket over your head. You lay completely still with your eyes squeezed shut causing you to fall asleep within minutes.

The angry girl haunts your head monthly. It used to be weekly, and in periods; even daily. You don’t purposely let the angry girl out, but sometimes she claws her way out of the deepest darkest rooms where you normally keep her. The angry girl is a result of trauma, event though you sometimes let yourself believe that she is who you are. A part of your personality. A part of you. The angry girl hurt you for years. But you, Alexia and your psychiatrist worked together to get you where you are today.

The thing about the angry girl is that she isn’t really big. She’s a little girl. When the little girl comes out to play, she gets scared. She hides in the bedroom in fear that someone might yell at her. Or disown her. Or not talk to her. To hide is how so stays protected. Her talent is hide and seek. She tiptoes into the bathroom at night, terrified to wake someone up. She sneaks snacks when nobody is watching and god forbid someone catches her: she always ask if she’s allowed food. As a young little girl, she craved love, she craved to be seen and she craved to feel wanted. But she wasn’t allowed to feel those feelings. She was starved of the feelings. She creeps along the shadows of the hallway avoiding showing herself until she is trapped in a corner. That’s when the little girl becomes the angry girl. When she is trapped, and there is nowhere to hide and it feels like the world is about to end. But because Alexia is there, the world doesn’t end.

An hour later, you wake up by someone softly playing your hair. You can hear the low buzz of the bedroom tv. The slow beats of Alexia’s heart. The warmth of her lap. The embarrassment and the sadness fills your body. Tears make your eyes glass-like. You move your hand slightly. “Feeling better amore?” Alexia hums at you, not stopping her comforting movements. “I’m so sorr-“ you speak before your voice breaks and your body fills with regret and embarrassment. You feel so angry with yourself. Why are you like this? Why can’t you just communicate instead of letting everything blow up? You don’t know how to stop it, and you are terrified that it will drive Alexia away. “You don’t deserve this..” you mumble moving your hand to alexia’s knee.

“Mi amor, it’s not your fault that you were treated badly as a kid so don’t be sorry for breaking something that you didn’t break. You will get there with time and patience, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. Te amo mucho and that is never gonna change. Vale?”

Alexia looks down on you smile long softly before kissing your head.

«Vale, te amo, Ale. Te amo mucho”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #barca femini x reader #barcelona women #barcelona x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia x reader

410 notes · View notes

baddiewiththebook · 1 year

Text

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson preference #angst

2K notes · View notes