PAIRING: Hayden Christensen X Pregnant!reader

Lee byung hun but situationship maybe? Pretty please 🙏

having a situationship with lee byung-hun

a/n: thank you for the request! I actually really loved this idea

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byunghun0712

liked by from_jjlee and others

byunghun0712 #미스터션샤인 #mrsunshine

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leebyunghunfan this is the first time I don’t see @/yourusername like his post

user1 @/leebyunghunfan probably because of the way he’s looking at the girl in the first picture

user2 interesting post…

yourstruly @/user2 bffr they’re just coworkers

user2 @/yourstruly are we looking at the same pictures ?

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriendsuser and others

yourusername book date with the bestie cuz men ain’t shit

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randomuser wait happened?? is she talking about byung-hun??

ilovedilfs @/randomuser I really hope not

girlblogger y’all are overreacting. they never said they were together

ohfish @/girlblogger they’re prob just hooking up

yourbestfriendsuser hoes before bros

liked by author

userr12 I just noticed she unfollowed him omg…

yourusername

liked by byunghun0712 and others

yourusername if you don’t want me DON’T ACT LIKE YOU FUCKING WANT ME

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yourbestfriendsuser he don’t know what he’s missing out on

byunghunandyn I’m seriously wondering if they’re together or not

user_ @/byunhunandyn was the caption not clear enough for u?

iconiccuser we’ve all been there girly

user55 @/iconiccuser the strongest of soldier fr

user91 I get this on so many levels

user32 no way. He liked the post as if this wasn’t about him😭

yourusername

liked by byunghun0712 and others

yourusername im someone who forgives and forgets

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user1 STAND UP GIRL

marrymebyunghun who can blame her

byunghunswife @/marrymebyunghun I mean look at him

ynfan we get it dw

user31_ you’ll get out of that phase

ynfan4ever @/user31_ if my bf gave gifts like that I would forgive him without hesitation

user31_ @/ynfan4ever THEYRE NOT EVEN TOGETHER

ynfan4ever @/user31 YOU DONT KNOW THAT

user76 and the crowd is...confused?

byunghun0712

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byunghun0712 cheers 🍻

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user12 guys… she’s following him again

byunghunfan @/user12 NOOOOO

stormshadowsabs leave my man alone

ynsfan @/stormshadowsabs tell him to leave our girl alone

hayyleee raw.

dilfenthusiast let's make love

azeala.aa all 10 fingers

yourusername

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yourusername saw lisa live!!!

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ynfan1 gorgeous

user09 are they together?

randomuser @/user09 yes and no

leahhhh.hhh till the bed breaks

user45 ahhh omg ur a lisa fan!!!

yourusername @/user45 well of course!

fckmeleebyunghun the jealousy im feeling...

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriendsuser and others

yourusername maybe the single life suits me better

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user08 bad bitch

ynfan02 girl what happened now

user34 I’m getting used to this now

byunhunfan this is more entertaining than my life

user12 well what did he do this time

leebyunghunswifey @/user12 why do u assume he’s the problem? Maybe it’s her

ynfanpage @/leebyunghunswifey men are always the problem. you’ll understand that when you’re older

user10 u may have lost ur man but at least ur hot

byunghun0712

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byunghun0712 💪

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yourusername biting my lip

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user75 HIS ARMSSS

user12 now why is @/yourusername in the comments

byunghunswifey @/user12 Frl what are u doing

userr09 @/yourusername is so luckyyy

user98 can she not make up her mind ?

ynfan y’all are taking this too seriously. so what if they’re hooking up?

user23 @/ynfan exactly like they wouldn’t be the first to do so

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𒀯𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

Anaxiphilia: love for or attraction to unsuitable mates; an act of falling in love with the wrong person

Hwang In-Ho x Fem! Reader

wc! 7k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you move away from your childhood best friend (and first love), the last place you expected to see him was stuck with you as a “player”.

TW: Violence (duh its squid game), cursing, smut 18+ pnv, unsafe sex, probably pregnant lol

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Classical music filled your ears as your eyes adjusted to the bright lights. It played throughout the room as you woke slowly and attempted to make sense of your surroundings. But, as you looked at the number placed on your tracksuit you remembered where you were.

Or at least why you were there.

You were never uncomfortable growing up. You were actually quite wealthy. Your father owned a very successful company, your mother invested money intuitively, and life seemed to improve daily. That was until you were 17 and news broke that your father’s company was a front. A money laundering business that cleaned his filthy money from years and years of fraud. When they died, they left you a monumental amount of debt. And when a suspiciously attractive guy handed you a little brown card, you couldn’t help but call the number on the back.

You knew the games were too good to be true. And you realized you were right after the first one. It took you 30 minutes to wash the blood off your face and out of your hair.

Now you were standing next to a girl with the number “222” written on her tracksuit, watching as an older lady and her son begged the guards to let them go. You fiddled with your hands, flinching at the rawness after scrubbing them relentlessly. Your attention was grabbed when another person stepped through the crowd.

“Clause three of the consent form!” Your eyes trained on him as he spoke angrily, “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.”

Your heart stopped. You could go home and be safe. But you would still be drowning in debt. You bit your lip, remembering about the share of money you would receive. Would you have enough to cover it?

As if the guards could read your mind, a large piggy bank lowered from the ceiling, “The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” Every eye watched as the piggy bank began to fill, “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

Another man shoves past the crowd, “And how much is that?”

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Exasperated sighs and annoyed words broke out amongst the crowd. But your eyes stayed trained on the man who first spoke, “456” written on his chest.

The pink guard spoke loudly, “The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

The crowd stayed silent, “The total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won.”

The crowd erupted again, full of enthusiastic words and motivated cheers. The girl next to you placed her hands over her stomach, almost cradling it closer to her body.

If you went home now, you wouldn’t even have enough to cover a third of your debt. But if you stay and continue the games, you could die.

The doors opened and two guards wheeled out a metal podium with two buttons, a red X and a blue O. “Now, let’s begin the vote. If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.”

“Player 456.”

The same man from before stepped forward without hesitation. As he walked to the podium his stride was filled with wrath and as he slammed his palm against the X, his eye contact didn’t break with the guard.

The voting continued, each person stepping forward to decide whether to live or die. Each time either button was pressed you silently celebrated, still not sure if you should stay or go.

“Player number two.”

Your face fell as your eyes centered on the podium. And with each slow step you took, you became more sure of your decision. And as you reached the podium, you had made up your mind entirely.

A high beep rang through the room as your face reflected the blue button. You decided to continue. Flinching at the sound of defeated sighs from behind, you took the patch embroidered with an O and joined the other voters.

“Player number one.”

You hadn’t cared to look at the man when he was standing next to you earlier. But now that he was about to break a tie, your eyes were locked on him. You didn’t catch his face but you studied his figure. He had a tall frame and dark brown hair that seemed to be styled perfectly. He walked with a thick sense of confidence and you hadn’t failed to notice how his tracksuit clung to his biceps.

You watched intensely as he lifted his hand and hovered between the two buttons. The room held suspension and your eyes were locked on his hand. He hesitated for a few more moments before pressing his hand down. Blue light illuminated his face and the surrounding crowd cheered as he walked from the podium.

He had selected to stay. To play another game where you, or him, could die. You voted for that too. So why aren’t you happy about winning?

Because he’s turned around now and you’ve seen his face. And you would recognize that face anywhere.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I don't understand, you’re moving?” He grasped the sides of your face, afraid to let go.

You looked at the boy in front of you who’ve you known your whole life. You went to private schools together, fancy parties together, and you shared your first time together. And now you’re leaving.

You placed your hands over his, “I don’t understand either In-ho. I want to stay, I don’t want to leave you.” Tears fell down your rosy cheeks as In-ho placed his forehead gently against yours.

You ignored your mother’s frantic yells for you to come and pack your things. You didn’t want to leave him. You loved him, and you knew if you left now you wouldn’t just be leaving your house. You’d be leaving your life behind. Your father would be arrested and your mother would have to work while taking care of you herself. You would move from Gangnam to Daegu. And you would have to start a new life. You just didn’t understand why In-ho couldn’t be a part of it.

That was the last time you saw him.

Well, until now.

You kept your distance, watching him talk to player 456. You recognize him from before as the man who’s already played.

You observed intensely, not bothering with your food. You watched how he exchanged words with 456. How his hair moved slightly as he used his hands to talk. You didn’t understand why he was here. The last you heard about him, he was married and his wife was expecting.

Would could’ve gone so wrong for him to be here?

The girl next to you shuffled in her seat, setting her empty dosirak-tong on the ground. You knew she was pregnant just from how she walked uncomfortably with her hands supporting her back.

“Here, take mine. I don’t like dosirak.” It was a lie, dosirak is one of your favorite meals. But she was eating for two, and you didn’t have an appetite.

She looked up at you before gently taking the metal box from your hands, “Thank you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and you smiled in return.

Your eyes searched for In-ho again to find him walking towards a fight you hadn't noticed had broken out. His frame was large and towered over the boys as he approached them, “Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime There are elders present, mind your manners. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too?” In-ho’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head at the boy, “Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

You knew where this was heading, In-ho always knew how to fight. You smirked as he grabbed the boy, turning him around and twisting his arm behind him.

Forcing him to the ground with a thud as he whined, “Wait! I’m sorry! Please, let me go!”

He let go of his arm and stood up straight, adjusting his tracksuit. As he looked around the room while walking back toward player 456, his eyes suddenly met with yours. And he froze as he scanned your face. He was so caught up in Gi-huns plan that he had failed to realize you had entered the game. The girl he fell in love with. Who he shared his first kiss with, who he has thought about every day for 20 years since you were 17.

Your heart ached as old feelings rushed over you, watching as his eyes softened slightly before player 390 dragged him over.

You couldn’t sleep that night. You were too busy trying to figure out why he was here. Plus, you caught word of the next game being Dalgona. Which worried you because you had always sucked at cutting out the tiny shape, always giving in and eating the cookie whole.

You spent the night staring tiredly at the piggy bank, the soft yellow light casting across your face. What you didn't know is that 50 feet away, In-ho watched you. His mind also trying to understand why you were here. He stared at you, his eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, remembering when he would trail kisses on your pretty little face.

When he met your eyes earlier, he froze. Not because he didn't expect to see you, which he didn't, he froze because his heart did. He marveled at your beauty, and you took his breath away. Just like the first time he saw you all those years ago.

And now as he lays in his bed, his pillow propped up on the opposite end so he can see you, he can't help but address the elephant in the room. You know his name. You know his identity. You could ruin everything, his plan that he had focused solely on for the past three years.

As the lights turned on and classical music rang out from the speakers, his eyes stayed on you and only you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of six in the next ten minutes. Let me repeat."

Sand kicked behind you as you walked into the room. The speakers repeated the instructions as you whispered to the girl next to you, "Is Dalgona played in teams?" She shook her head and her hand caressed her belly. You've grown somewhat protective over the girl, whose name you learned is Kim Jun-hee.

You take her hand as you look to find a team and your eyes try to pick out In-ho from the crowd. You think you spot the back of his head and start to pull Jun-hee towards him when she makes a be-line to a group. Your protests go ignored as she reaches them. Your eyes still search for In-ho as she inquires about joining their group.

"Of course, you can join." The voice snaps you from your search as you meet familiar piercing brown eyes with your own. Your breath hitches in your throat as he doesn't break eye contact.

"Time for team selection is up." The PA system breaks your stare, but In-ho holds his. You look around the room, scanning over the tall blue walls and the rainbows painted on the floor, "The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a minigame at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the minigames: Number one, the Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gonggi. Number four, Kendama. Number five, Spinning Top. Number six, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the minigames and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide on players for each minigame."

Your team divides the games between you. You get stuck with Kendama, a game that is played by tossing a ball into the air and attempting to catch it on a wooden stick point. You're fairly confident in yourself. You and In-ho grew up playing games like these.

You sit with your group as each team competes. You sat at the end next to Jun-Hee, checking on her every once and a while. You flinched every time a gunshot rang out, anxiety bubbling with every elimination.

In-ho could not stop looking at you. It was as if you had a magnetic pull, and he couldn't look away. You were a piece of art, crafted with the hands of God himself. And he was jealous of God's hands, wishing it had been his very own that created such beauty. Every time you looked his way, he looked elsewhere.

"Final two teams, please get ready." You help Jun-hee stand up, 390 stepping in place next to her. Standing on the other side of 388 as you all line up at the start. You lower your gaze as In-ho steps in line next to you. He's always been intimidating, especially with his large frame towering over yours.

390 chuckles, "It's weird to be the only ones who don't get an audience, isn't it?" His attempt to lighten the mood works a little, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I think it will help us focus more!" You rub 388's shoulder in comfort while he repeats the motions of throwing and catching the Gonggi.

The guard finishes locking In-ho's and 456's shackles before you feel an arm snake around yours. In-ho's bicep compresses your own as your face heats up. You glance up daringly meeting In-hos sharp gaze. You should say something. Anything. Ask him why he's here, or where his wife is. But before you can speak, 456 starts the chant and steps forward.

"Hana dul! Hana dul! Hana dul!" You chant as you approach the first game. Jun-hee slams the red ddakji down, successfully flipping the blue one on the first try.

As you chant and walk to the next game, 388 breaks the pace and steps forward quickly. Without hesitation In-ho's hand moves from your arm to your waist, effortlessly steadying you "Hey! Keep the pace!"

388 steps back into pace as we reach the next game, "Back when I used to pitch, I never threw very fast, but the ball always went where I wanted." 390 steps one foot back before aiming and throwing the stone precisely, hitting the target on the first try!

You all cheer before continuing forward, quickly approaching three minutes. As you sit on the ground you feel In-ho steadying you again, allowing you to lean slightly against him to give 388 more room to play his game.

"Okay, just take your time. You got this." I reassure 388 as he grabs the gonggi. With a quick hand, he tosses one in the air before collecting them one at a time. Then two at a time, Then three and one. Then all. He flips them on the back of his hand before catching them effortlessly.

Your cheers were quick as you stood up and rushed towards the fourth game. The guard hands you the Kendama and you can feel In-ho's gaze on you intensely. You held the Kendama out in front of you, tossing the ball up, quickly moving your hand to catch it. You close your eyes as you feel the ball land on the spike.

"Yes! You did it Y/N!" In-ho grabs your shoulders and shakes you, you shake his back as he beams a smile at you. And for a second, you forget about the timer and you're both 17 again, in love.

He wraps his arm around your waist again as you move to his game. He takes the spinning top in his hand and begins to wrap the rope around it, confidence radiating from him. We have this in the bag! -oh.

The rope fell off.

You feel his body tighten as stress began to build. He wraps the rope around once more before tossing it, praying that the top spins. It falls to its side and In-ho curses under his breath. You remember him using his left hand when growing up to play this game. You wondered why he was using his right, but you didn't ask him. You could tell he was getting annoyed at himself.

"It's okay! Just try again!" You let go of In-ho's arm to give him more room. He flings the spinning top with too much power and it flings backwards.

In-ho freezes, too embarrassed to move. The man next to him, 456, grabs his shoulder firmly, "It's okay, we'll get it. All right, backwards. Ready, set."

In-ho holds my waist tightly as we walk backwards in step, "It'd be boring to win everything fast." The group nods in agreement at 390's words, " 'Cause if you're ever gonna grow, you need to fail first, right?"

In-ho picks up the spinning top and we trek back to the line. He wraps the rope around successfully, "Okay now take it slow, wait- no don't rush it!"

In-ho interrupted 388's instructions by quickly, and messily, throwing the top. It falls to the side and you feel In-ho throw his head back and laugh. You quickly remove your hand from his waist, knowing what's about to happen.

"You piece of fucking shit! You ruin everything! You're worthless!" In-ho drops the piece of rope in his hand as he hits his head against his hands. "You're so pathetic!"

The group stands shocked as he hits himself angrily, stomping in the dried blood below him. You bend down and pick up the rope, glancing at the clock.

50 seconds.

"Hey!" You slam the rope against his chest and pull his face to look at you, "No one's blaming any of this on you! Now, take a deep breath, okay?"

In-ho nodded slowly, the feeling of your touch burning on his face as he placed his right hand over his chest, something he would do when you were younger. As the group shuffles to pick up the top, you place one of your hands over his and slow his breathing, "You can do this In-ho. Use your left hand like you did when we were kids. And if I die because of this I will kill you myself."

In-ho gave a small smile at your sarcasm as he wraps the rope around the axel, then the top. He places it in his left hand and looks at you quickly before throwing the top.

It spins.

You erupt in cheers as In-ho succeeds! He gives a quick hug to you, that you wished had lasted longer, and your group moves to 456's turn. In-ho's gaze darkened as he focused on 456, and you failed to notice it, still flustered from the quick hug.

"One! Two! Three! Four!" You all counted as 456 bounced the jegi on his foot, watching him and the clock as it counts down. For a split moment it seemed that he wouldn't be able to get the last hit in, but suddenly In-ho swoops in and reaches with his foot. "Five!"

You all cheer as you practically run to the end, crossing right as the timer hit zero. The heavy shackles get removed and you are immediately engulfed in a bear hug from In-ho. His arms wrap around the small of your back as he pulls you closer to his frame, if possible. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you stay frozen. Not from the near- death- experience you just had, but because you realized you had forgotten what his hugs had felt like. You threw your arms around him in return, deepening the hug you have longed for every day for 20 years.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You sat closely next to In-ho as the group chatted and complemented each others moves from the game. You were looking forward to catching up with In-ho, but you were too engrossed in 388's retelling of 390's stone toss, "And, sir, you were incredible at Flying Stone!" He proudly stood up and pretended to throw a stone, "You just lined it up and... Boom! First try!"

You giggled as 390 proudly shaked his head, and In-ho turned to look at you. God, that laugh. He had forgotten what it sounded like, and he frowned when you stopped, "I was thinking, what if we go around and say what our real names are? I'll go first, my name is Kang Dae-ho. Dae as in 'huge' and ho as in 'tiger'!"

390 laughed as Dae-ho gave himself tiger fangs with his fingers, "Now that's a cool name. My name is Park Jung-bae. It means 'righteous' and 'double.' So, I should be living twice as righteously."

"My name is Kim Jun-hee. I don't think I know what it stands for." Jun-hee smiles as she pushes a stray hair from her face.

"Jun means 'talented' and hee means 'star'. You are a talented star Jun-hee!" You ruffle her hair as she beams at you, "My name is Y/N. L/N, Y/N."

You can feel In-ho's stare as he watches your lips move, "My name is Young-il. You know, like 'yeong il.' 'Zero one' in Korean." You whipped your head towards him. Was there a reason he was hiding his name? Did he not trust anyone? He gave you a reassuring look, you'd just ask him later.

"My full name is Seong Gi-Hun." You looked away from In-ho's gaze as you watched 456 introduce himself.

"Seong Gi-hun. Like our un-'Seong' hero?" Everyone laughed but you. You were still pondering about In-ho. There were so many unanswered questions running through your mind. In-ho must have noticed your distant look, because he gave your hand a squeeze. A promise that he'll explain everything.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After another failed vote to go home (you had voted to leave this time), Gi-hun warned about the possibility of an ambush. It plagued your mind with worry as you laid on your mattress. Another night of no sleep adding to the eyebags growing under your pretty E/C eyes.

Gi-hun stood from his watch as In-ho took over, and headed to bed. Now was your chance to fully reconnect with In-ho, "Can I sit here?"

In-ho turned to you, "Cant sleep?" He asked as he scooted over a tad, making room for you. He didn't make a whole lot of room though, which you didn't mind.

Your thighs touched as you sat next to him, "No, never could when my mind is running like this." You dusted off your pants as you placed your legs out in front of you, fingers avoiding the blood that plagued your bottoms.

"You shouldn't be anxious about the game tomorrow." He watched your face intently, trying to read you. You were always so easy to read.

You stifle a small laugh, "Oh i'm not anxious, 'Young-il'. " You tilted your head towards him as you dragged out his "name", smirking as he nodded defeatedly.

"Ohhh, okay." He leaned in close, making your heart flutter, "I just don't want anyone to know my name yet. In a game like this there's a lot of... betrayal."

Your spine shivered as his words tickled your ear, "Oh, I guess I didn't think about that..." You turned to look at him but failed to realize how close he was.

Your lips were now inches apart, barely. You could feel his breath fan across your lips and his eyes remained focused on yours, "It can be our little secret? Hmm?" You found yourself nodding before you could even process what he said.

You didn't move, instead, you tested the waters. You leaned in closer, tilting your head slightly, "Last I heard you were married?"

He shook his head no, not caring to explain as he quickly licked his lips, his eyes now focusing on your own. Your breath caught as your heart beat at an unearthly rate, he was so close. If either of you moved your head even a centimeter, his lips would be on yours.

But you weren't able to find out. The small metal door slammed as Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and Ae-sim walked in, and you pulled back quickly. "I should try and sleep."

In-ho nodded as you walked away, his eyes trailed the curve of your ass and he adjusted his pants slightly before going back to his watch.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily. The game you will be playing today is Mingle." The beady-eyed horses caught your attention first. The black, soulless, painted eyes boring into your own as you followed behind In-ho. "I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated."

You stopped in front of the red platform, In-ho stopped next to you, "The real crucial thing for us to do is to stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other. And we'll all get out of here in once piece." He looked down at you, a need to protect you suddenly clear, "Deal?"

You looked up at him, "Deal." And he took your hand as you both stepped on the platform.

"With that, let the game begin!" The woman over the PA system was replaced with a nursery song, "Round And Round". The platform jolted before starting its spin, and you grasp onto In-ho for support as he steadies you.

"Ten."

The lights were replaced with flashing red as In-ho pulled you close. Gi-hun grabbed a group of 3 people as you searched for an open door, "Room 44!" You pointed to the light green door before dragging In-ho and Dae-ho with you. Hyun- ju grabbed a stray woman while running through the green door, barely making it.

In-ho placed his hands on the sides of your arms firmly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You breathed out, trying to catch your breath.

He took one hand and cupped your face, "Just stick with me. You'll be okay." You nod as the door unlocks and he grabs your hand, leading you back to the platform.

You spin for another few agonizing seconds with your hand still firmly grasped in In-ho's. "Five."

Your face fell, there were six of you. Who was going to leave? In-ho quickly pushes you into Jung-bae's grasp, "Watch her, i'll go! Hurry!" In-ho takes one more glance towards you as he runs through the crowd.

Jung-bae drags you with the others as you call for In-ho, "Young- il! Young-il!" The door locks behind you and you break from Jung-bae's hold.

"Im sure hes okay. He's smart Y/N." You press your face to the door, peering out of the small window, searching for his tall frame. You know he's smart, but you were so scared of losing him again you couldn't even register the other players getting shot in front of your door.

It unlocks and you push it open, rushing out and onto the platform. You whip your head around as you scanned for In-ho. When you lock eyes with his brown ones you make a beeline towards him, pushing past other players as you jump into his arms, "What ever happened to, "Stick with me"?"

His hand wrapped protectively behind your neck, cradling you in his arms, "I know, im sorry. But i'm okay." He pulled your head away to look at him, a small smile resting on his face.

The platform began to spin as you and In-ho stood next to Jun-hee, "Attention, players. The final round will now begin." The God forsaken nursery rhyme plays again, and this time, your eyes were glued to In-ho.

"What do you think the number will be?" Jun-hee asked curiously while clinging onto Dae-ho.

"It will be two." In-ho looked towards her.

"Wait, why?"

He squeezes your hand, "We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for."

The platform comes to a halt. "Two." The lights flash again and In-ho pulls you on instinct, running to a yellow door.

In-ho was going to keep you safe, at any cost.

You look back towards the group for a split second when your body meets the ground, you look up in slow motion as the man who pushed you runs to the door. You took a staggered breath before grabbing onto his ankle, slamming him to the ground and buying you enough time to run in behind In-ho and close the door.

Relief washed over you only momentarily as your eyes met with a third person in the room. In-ho steps in front of you, "Out."

"But, we were here first. Why don't you put her out and I stay?" In-ho tilts his head at his last remark before wrapping his biceps around the man's head.

The door behind you shook as the other man tries to push it open, you are quick to press your body weight against it to hold it close, "In-ho, what do we do?" Your voice was frantic as the countdown continued.

In-ho's arms tighten around the mans neck as he pulls and pushes at his grasp, but In-hos eyes never faltered. Not once. They stayed piercing yours, full of determination.

"Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." The cracking sound of the mans neck made you flinch, his lifeless body hitting the floor with a thud.

I did say in-ho would keep you safe. At any cost.

"One."

The door locked behind you as you pressed your back against it, In-ho's stare stuck on you as he stepped over the man's body and towards you. He pushed your body against the door, his hand finding the flesh of your waist as his other hand pulled your neck into a desperate kiss. You became putty under his touch as he dug his fingers into your skin, he craved your touch as much as you did. And it was taking every muscle in his body not to take you and fuck you right now.

Your hands traveled from his chest and up to his neck, pulling him closer. A small whine escaped your pretty lips as he slid his hand up and under your shirt, the same hands he just used to kill for you.

For you.

You felt the door unlock with a click behind you. And In-ho pulled away reluctantly as your head fell back against the door, "I need you Y/N." He brushed his thumb over your red and swollen lips before taking your hand, and leading you out of the door.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Attention, all players. Lights-out will be in approximately 30 minutes. With the remaining half hour, please disperse, and prepare to return to your beds for the night."

You sat next to Jung-bae who was excitedly talking about the next vote with Dae-ho as you watched In-ho move your mattress next to his. You hadn't dared to tell a soul about what happened in the yellow room, the kiss or the dead guy.

And you weren't going to tell anyone.

You should be concerned, right? Concerned over how easy it was for him to snap a guys neck without breaking eye contact? He was emotionless, cold, really attractive. You had witnessed many fights between him and other men while growing up, especially when it came to fighting over you.

But he never once killed for you. Until now, at least. Were you wrong to think it was really hot?

"Once the lights go out, the ones who wanna stay are gonna come for us." Gi-huns voice broke you from your thoughts, "Killing us would mean they win the next vote. It would also increase the prize money."

In-ho sat down next to you, his hand immediately finding your back, "We have to attack first then, it's our only chance. Those guys assume we're just waiting it out till the next vote. When the lights go down, we should hit them first since they won't expect it." He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, watching is you nod in agreement.

Gi-hun shook his head and leaned in closer to the group, "No, we can't. We'd be playing right into their hands if we did."

"Who is 'they'?" You tilted your head as you asked, failing to notice In-ho's gaze darken.

"The ones who built this whole place. The ones who created the games and who watch us play." The group listens closely, "If we're gonna try and fight anyone, we should be going after them instead."

"Sure, but where are they?"

Gi-hun looks up, "They're up there. At the top of the staircases. They keep everything here running from up in their central control room." He looks back at the group, "There's a man in a black mask who's the head of the operation. If we can get to him, we finally can end this."

In-ho sighs in disagreement, "It's too risky. Even if we manage to get a few guns they'll outnumber us when we try to get out." You feel his hand slide from your back and wrap around your waist.

"What are you suggesting? That we fight the other group through the whole entire night, and hope that we all make it? Is that it, Young-il? Do you really think that's a good plan?" Gi-huns voice is a little raised and you feel In-ho's grip on you tighten.

"Do we... stand a chance?"

"If we can manage an ambush, yes. Those bastards up there, they'll never expect our side to attack. They'll be focused on other things. This is it." You nodded with Dae-ho, ready to fight, "This is our last chance to put an end to these games and make sure they never happen again."

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Once the lights are off, we have to get under our beds as quietly as we can. We can't afford to get caught by the other side. And we know they'll be out for blood." Gi-hun whispers as he slides under his bed.

You and In-ho follow suit, laying on your stomachs as you peer out from under your bed. You feel the contrast between your shaky breaths and his own steady breathing, and you can't comprehend how he could be so calm.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."

"I have a plan." In-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, and a shiver runs down your spine at the sound of a woman yelling.

You look at him, "But, what about Gi-hun's plan?"

You didn't miss the small smirk that played on his lips, "Just stay by my side." Without a word In-ho swiftly moves from out of his bed, pulling you with him.

"Wait! What are you-" His hand came to your mouth as you both hugged the wall while discreetly moving towards the small metal door.

In-ho removed his hand to place a short knock. The small window opened, a guard peering through the flap. Without a single question, the door opened, and In-ho was quick to push you through.

You watched as the guard swiftly opened the bathroom door allowing you and In-ho to enter. You turned to the door as it shut behind you before looking at In-ho, "How did that guard just let you through? I don't understand, we have to go back In-ho."

"Or we can stay. We're safe here- you're safe here." He stood on the opposite wall in front of you, watching as you rested your hand on the doorknob.

He knew you were thinking about going back. But he also knew you weren't going to. He had you wrapped around his finger, just like all those years ago. And you knew it too.

You dropped your hand from the doorknob, biting your lip as you feel him slowly stalk towards you. Need courses through your veins as his hand comes from behind and wraps around your neck, his other hand pulls your waist against him. His lips find your neck and you've melted instantly.

His bulge presses harshly against your ass as he sucks and bites your neck with unhuman desire. This wasn't like when you were younger, when you were flustered and shy. No. You were hungry with want and your eyes were filled with lust.

He whips you around, lips on your own now as he moves you backwards to the counter. Your knees go weak and he lifts you with ease, as if you weighed nothing, and places you on the counter. Your fingers dug into his back, desperate for more. Hungry for him.

In-ho bites your lip roughly, and you give him what he wants, opening your lips wider and letting his tongue fuck your mouth. You were intoxicated, In-ho was the man you thought of each night as you fucked yourself, screaming his name into oblivion. And now here he was, hiking your shirt over your head.

"Y/N." Your name slipped from In-ho's mouth swiftly as he lifts your shirt over your head before his lips find your exposed skin. A small whine escapes your lips as his hot mouth gives your cold skin goosebumps.

It was like that small little noise ignited something animalistic within him, a grunt fell off his tongue as he bit your skin. He loved the way you squirmed as he dipped his tongue into your collarbone, his eyes looking up at you.

Sweat slicked your forehead as your head throws back, your bra falling from your tits, landing on the floor. How did he take it off? His hand didnt even-

oh.

Oh.

You looked at the bra, the back was still clasped.But the straps, the straps were ripped. He had ripped your bra off of you with hunger. But, you couldn't focus on the bra anymore as a moan escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as In-ho rolls your nipple under his tongue.

He trailed sloppy kisses up to your mouth before stepping back, observing you. He pulls his shirt of with ease, "Take off your pants." It was demanding, and you obeyed. Your fingers trembled as you slipped off your bottoms and panties.

In-ho presses his tongue against his cheek, cocking his head as he takes you in piece by piece. You were sprawled out on the counter, your back resting against the mirror and your chest heaved, "What. What are you looking at In-ho."

"I'm thinking about all the bruises your pretty body is going to have after I fuck you."

He sinks to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he delves his tongue into your folds. You gasp, your legs involuntarily locking around his head. His tongue laps as he looks up at you. His nose perfectly brushes your clit, and he knows it as you rock your hips, "Oh, f-fuck. In-ho please."

He smirks against you as you sputter his name. He feels himself growing harder each time you whimper under his mouth. He drinks you up, your taste slicking on his face as you his tongue finds your clit.

One of your hands remove from the edge of the counter and find its way to his hair, "In-ho please," You pull his hair up to make him look at you, "If you stop now, I-I will kill you."

A small chuckle vibrates through your core as his lips latch your clit, rolling it under his tongue. Your legs pull him closer, if possible, and you feel your climax building. You arch your hips, rolling against his mouth as the need to cum grows louder. In-ho roughly laps on your swollen clit, desperate for your release.

And suddenly the earth stops spinning as you dissolve into pleasure, letting yourself unravel under him. Your body jerks as shockwaves move throughout your body, and you let his name roll of your tongue.

"Scoot down." You do as you're told and wiggle your ass until its slightly off the counter. In-ho watches as you still attempt to steady your breathing, smirking as he dips the waist of his pants down.

Your eyes widen as he places one of his hands on the side of your body, letting him tower over you. Your eyes trailed to his other hand that was busy lining his dick up with your core, but his eyes are on you. Waiting to watch your reaction as you take his cock.

He sinks into you, your breath catching and your eyes closing as he doesn't ease you into it, stretching you out. A grunt escapes his mouth at your reaction, you were so beautiful like this.

In-ho leans back and takes a hold of both of your ankles, holding them above you as he sets the pace. Your knuckles turn white as you grip the counter with one hand and cover your mouth with the other.

In-ho quickens the pace with each thrust, pounding into you like a toy. Animalistic grunts escape his mouth, "Y/N, you're so good for me. I've missed this so -fuck- so much."

You whine at his words, desperate attempts to buck your hips failed. He had you pinned down under you, controlling everything. He can feel the way you grip him, lustful tension building in the air, "Atta girl."

Oh fuck, he feels so good. He fits perfectly in you, just like all those years ago. The passion was still there, and god, he made you know it. You're drunk with desire, clenching around him as the pace picks up. His thrusts are sharp, deep, and you can tell he's close.

Your hands find his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes met yours as his cock hit every. right. spot. His eyes softened, a contrast to his pornoraphic thrusts. In the middle of everything, all the death around you, you rekindled a love you never thought you would experience again.

Your eyes stay locked as the grip on your ankles tightened, In-ho's head dropping slightly as he came, time slowing as waves of electricity engulfed him. Warmth flooded over your body as he pulsed inside of you, gently laying your legs back down before leaning forward.

He pulled you close to him, his hands cupping your face and his thumb gently lifting your chin, "I love you Y/N." A smile displayed on his lips as he kissed you softly.

You bit back a sob, "In-ho... I never stopped loving you. You've been my person, even when you weren't mine."

He kissed you again, this time with promise. A promise of making it out of the games, a promise of love, a promise of hope.

In-ho never thought much of a future. He always saw himself living for the games. He expected to die as the front man, he didn't have anything to lose. But now he does. He has a future now, and it's you. He is not living for the games anymore. He is living for you.

Would you still love him when you find out the truth?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: Hey pookies!! Tysm for all the love recently it's definitely motivated for me to come out of retirement. Pls lmk who I should write for next! I'm in a squid game mood so maybe Gi-hun?

@tsarinaaaz @flowersbloom8787 @vixtyhu @dottoremybbg @fnl9zer @cdej6 @galadoesart @watasinekoru @icantcryicantstopcrying @seasaltrasp @pepsicolacoochie @lily-ann-b @gurjxxpp11

10/10 i need moreeeee

ꪆৎ AMERICAN MADE ﹒♱

੭୧ . . . soldier boy x female!reader.

ᯓ your encounter with soldier boy at the flatiron building proves he's nothing like his disappointing son, homelander.

warning(s) smut┆smoking┆mild degradation ( towards homelander )┆semi-public sex┆rough sex-ish┆mentions of past relationships┆strong language. 𓇼 so this was meant to be posted days ago… but i got super busy and totally forgot about it. but it's finally up <3 love me some soldier boy every once in awhile too. eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist

you hadn't expected to find soldier boy lounging on butcher's desk, smoke curling from his lips as he took another hit from his joint. the flatiron building was usually empty this time of night, save for butcher who you could hear talking in the other room.

"well. if it isn't america's former sweetheart," soldier boy drawled, his eyes trailing over you with an intensity that made your breath catch. "came to see the brit?"

you shifted your weight, suddenly aware of how alone you were with him. "i needed to discuss some things about homelander."

"that fucking disappointment," he scoffed, taking another drag. "you know, hughie told me about you. america's sweetheart turned rebel. gotta say, that's pretty hot."

the way he said it made heat pool in your stomach. you'd heard stories about soldier boy, about his reputation before payback turned their backs on him, but nothing prepared you for the raw magnetism he exuded. maybe it was because he reminded you of homelander — or rather, homelander reminded you of him. but there was something different about soldier boy. something more primal, more authentic.

"what else did hughie tell you?" you asked, taking a step closer.

soldier boy's lips curved into a smirk. "enough to know that you're wasted on my sorry excuse of a son." he stubbed out the joint and stood up, closing the distance between you in two long strides. "tell me, sweetheart, did he ever make you feel like a real woman?"

your breath hitched as he backed you against the desk, his hands gripping the wooden edge on either side of you. "soldier boy—"

"ben," he corrected, his breath hot against your neck. "my name's ben."

what happened next was a blur of sensations. his lips crashed against yours, tasting of marijuana and whiskey. your hands found their way to his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath his suit. he lifted you onto the desk with ease, stuff scattering to the floor.

"fuck butcher and his precious fucking desk," he growled, pushing you back until you were lying flat on the wooden surface. "been wanting to do this since i first heard about you."

your clothes seemed to disappear under his experienced hands, and soon you were bare beneath him. soldier boy took his time, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. "now this is what i call a view," he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

you could hear butcher still on the phone in the next room, his muffled british accent a reminder of where you were. but soldier boy didn't seem to care, and truthfully, neither did you.

he knew exactly how to touch you, where to kiss you, how to make you fall apart. each thrust was calculated, powerful, making you bite your lip to keep from crying out. his experience showed in every movement, every angle he hit perfectly.

"you're all mine," he growled in your ear, his pace relentless. "no other man gets to touch you, look at you, think about you. understood?"

you nodded desperately, your nails digging into his back.

"say it," he demanded, slowing his movements teasingly.

"i'm yours," you gasped, and he rewarded you by picking up his pace again.

the desk creaked beneath you, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if butcher would notice the scattered papers, the slightly askew angle of his workspace. but those thoughts disappeared as soldier boy brought you to the edge again and again.

when it was over, he helped you straighten your clothes, a possessive glint in his eyes. "you should come around more often," he said, lighting another joint. "might make these meetings with butcher more interesting."

you couldn't help but smile, even as you heard butcher's footsteps approaching. soldier boy didn't move away from you, if anything he moved closer, making it clear to anyone who walked in exactly what had happened.

from that moment on, everyone knew you belonged to soldier boy. the boys never commented on it directly, but they saw the marks he left on your neck, the way his eyes followed you whenever you were in the room, the possessive hand he kept on your lower back.

and honestly? you wouldn't have it any other way.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. on the run,

summary. you're being chased by a werewolf and holy hell! werewolves are real!

pairing. dean winchester x civilian!reader genre. fluffy

wordcount. 529

The thing chasing you is not human.

You don’t know what it is, but people don’t run on all fours like that. People don’t snarl like that—low and guttural, vibrating in your bones. And people sure as hell don’t have glowing yellow eyes that catch the light like a predator.

Your lungs burn as you sprint through the woods, dodging trees, stumbling over roots. Your pulse is a wild thing, hammering in your throat, your ears. The town bar had been warm, safe, normal. A couple of drinks. A walk home. You didn’t expect—this.

Branches snap behind you. It’s gaining.

You risk a glance over your shoulder and instantly regret it.

Too close. Too fast.

You’re not gonna make it.

A flash of silver—gunfire.

You duck on instinct as something whistles through the air, followed by a sickening thunk.

A man steps out of the darkness. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, all leather and rough edges, a gun still raised in his hands. The werewolf—because, holy shit, that’s a werewolf—lets out a strangled howl before dropping like a sack of bricks, the silver bullet lodged deep in its skull.

Silence. Your breath heaves in the aftermath, your legs wobbling like a newborn deer.

The man exhales, rolling his shoulders like this is just another Tuesday. He spins the gun, tucks it into the back of his jeans, then turns to you with the kind of slow, assessing look that makes your stomach flip.

"You okay?" he asks. His voice is low, rough—gravel wrapped in honey.

You blink at him. Open your mouth. Close it. Then gesture wildly to the very dead monster a few feet away.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"

He winces. "Okay. So. Bad news? That was a werewolf. Good news? It’s dead."

"Werewolves aren’t real," you say automatically, brain still playing catch-up.

He snorts. "Try telling that to him."

You stare at him, then back at the corpse. The fur is already receding, limbs twisting back into something almost human. Your stomach turns.

"What—what the hell is going on?"

Leather Jacket Guy tilts his head, eyes sharp, unreadable. Then, like a switch, his face softens—just a little. "You from around here?"

You nod, still catching your breath.

"You alone?"

"Uh. Not anymore?"

That gets a grin out of him, small but cocky as hell. He extends a hand. "Dean Winchester."

You take it, hesitantly. His grip is warm, solid. "…Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats, like he’s testing the sound of it. "Alright, Y/N. Hate to break it to you, but the world’s a little weirder than you thought."

"No shit," you deadpan, which makes him chuckle.

The sound does something weird to your stomach.

Dean glances back at the body, then back at you. His expression shifts, that easy grin dimming just a little. "You should come with me. Just for tonight. Lay low, let me explain some things."

You should say no. You should scream, run, pretend none of this happened. But you just watched a man turn into a monster, and this guy—this Dean—saved your life like it was nothing.

You swallow hard, meeting his gaze.

"…You got whiskey?"

Dean grins. "Sweetheart, I got the whole bottle."

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

Bunny (P12)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: well bazinga. here we are- I'm loving you guys all fangirling over rafe and bunny cause they're such cutie patooties. But happiness is not for free, so I'm really really sorry about this one- I hope ya'll can forgive me. (and rafe) (idk if I can)

warnings: angst :(, alcohol, smoking, weed, violence, fights, drunkenness, rafe being a little bitch

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12)

The air is heavy with the lingering warmth of the day, the sky streaked with dying gold and violet as Y/N steps out the back exit of the country club. The low hum of insects fills the silence, broken only by the soft scrape of her boots against the pavement. Her shoulders are tired, the strap of her bag crumpled in one hand, and she taps her phone screen with the other, the glow casting light across her features, a new message flashing on the screen.

JJ : Lost my charger again

JJ. : Its okay tho cuz I took yours

JJ : I'll give it back

JJ : (I won't)

A laugh spills quietly from her lips, soft and genuine. That familiar feeling of warmth spreads through her chest at his messages. It'd been a few weeks since she'd come back from Charleston- since JJ had finally got a job. And she had to admit he was trying, really trying, so now their long awkward conversation which ended with deafening silence had eased in to sweet and stupid messages and playful banter which filled the walls of their bedrooms once more. Her fingers typed out a reply—

Y/N : u better u loser

She places the phone into her pocket and glances up- and then stops dead in her tracks. Her car’s parked at the far end of the staff lot, right where she left it but what she didn’t leave, was the sleek black Range Rover sitting beside it, the glossy paint catching the orange hues of the setting sun. She stiffens immediately, scanning the lot, no one around and her steps towards her car quicken. The driver’s side door opens, and Rafe steps out, tall and unbothered, his hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, and there’s that stupid smirk playing on his lips. Her heart jumps straight into her throat. “Rafe—” she hisses under her breath, marching toward him with panic in her eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, voice low and smooth, “What? I can’t come see you?”

“Not in the staff parking lot,” she snaps in a hushed whisper, “Do you want someone to see you? What if someone from inside walks out—”

“Relax”

He says gently, stepping forward and before she can argue more, his hands are at her hips, warm and familiar, tugging her closer until her body is brushing against his in the narrow space between the cars. The proximity knocks the air from her lungs. Her hands instinctively rest against his chest, palms flat over the material of his t-shirt where she can feel his heartbeat, steady and calm beneath her fingers.

Hers? Not so much.

“There’s no one around...”

He murmurs, head tilted down as he looks at her, his voice softer now, velvety and coaxing and her breath catches. She should push him away. She should tell him this is reckless, stupid, dangerous. But his scent- musky and alluring- clouds her thoughts. And his touch, just the lightest press of fingertips against the small of her back— is so familiar now, so comforting in its own twisted way. And she hates that it’s comforting. Her fingers twitch against his chest. She finally manages a whisper her words stubborn,

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” he says, and there’s the smallest hint of a smile in his voice as he leans in just a fraction closer, breath ghosting against her temple.

“But I wanted to be.”

She rolls her eyes with a long, exaggerated sigh, but her lips betray her- tugging upward at the corners, betraying the way he’s already wormed his way into her mood.

“We’re gonna get caught”

She mutters under her breath, glancing toward the dark stretch of the staff lot like someone might materialise from the shadows. The words barely leave her lips, soft and hurried, like they know better than to draw attention. Rafe just smirks, tilting his head down slightly, his chin angling toward her as he closes the few inches left between them.

“Not if you kiss me quick”

He says, voice low and roughened with amusement. Her eyes squint in a playful glare, head pulling back a fraction.

“You’re so annoying.”

But her body leans in all the same.

Her fingers find the soft t-shirt, curling into the fabric without even thinking. She rises onto the balls of her feet, just barely, and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s quick and light—barely a brush. Just a flicker of warmth, like a secret passed between two people in the dark. As she pulls away, his face follows hers- like his lips are trying to chase the kiss she’s already taken back. He doesn’t even think about it, just dips forward slightly, a greedy edge in his movement. She breathes out a small laugh, pushing against his chest with a single finger. “Nope,” she says, her smile widening.

“I'm hungry.”

"Yeah well so am I"

He lets his hands slip from her hips with a groan that’s more for show than anything, head rolling back as he leans against the hood of his car. She just shrugs, the inuendo lost on her ears as she adjusts the bag on her shoulder.

“You’re such a tease Bunny”

He drawls and she snorts, already turning on her heel to head toward the trunk of her car.

“I don’t know what you mean Cameron.”

Her fingers make quick work of the car key, popping the trunk. She grabs the rolled-up apron resting on top her bag and tosses it in alongside her worn-out tote bag, the whole thing collapsing into a pile on top of an old hoodie and a dented water bottle. The sound of the trunk slamming shut echoes across the empty lot. Spinning back around to face him, she crosses her arms and leans her weight into one hip, chin tilted up with that same little smile that drives him crazy.

“You really wanna get caught by one of your little Kook friends out here with me?” she teases, cocking a brow. “Have to explain why you’ve been slumming it with a Pogue?”

His smirk twitches- just a smidge. For the briefest moment, his expression shifts and something softer creeps into it. Something a little more sincere. His gaze lingers on her face longer than it should and then flickers back down to her lips before returning back up again.

“Wouldn’t care if they did”

He says simply, a quiet shrug rolling off his shoulders as if he means it, as if it's the simplest answer in the world. It catches her off guard- freezes her for a beat. Her mouth opens, then closes again but she recovers quick, brushing it off with a scoff and a roll of her eyes.

“You’re so full of shit.”

But even as the words leave her lips, there’s a faint flicker of something else behind her voice- something almost moved. Something she doesn’t want to name because it’s been a few weeks since that night.

A few weeks since she tilted her milkshake to her lips and he wiped the sweet drip from her skin with his thumb like it meant nothing. Since he kissed her like he’d been holding back for months and she melted into it like her body had been waiting on that exact moment to exhale. And since then? It’s been a series of late-night meet ups that feel like a secret thread connecting them. Not the kind that spun in lies—but the kind too delicate to speak aloud. The kind you carry with careful hands and quiet hearts in fear of it snapping. Every night, after her shift ends and the world turns quiet, she finds him waiting. Always parked in the back corner of some parking lot—headlights off, music low and she slips into the passenger seat without a word, throws her bag in the back, kicks off her shoes, and leans over to kiss him like she’s been holding her breath all day.

The kisses are slow at first. Always. A shared pause. But then they tip into something deeper, heavier—like they’re trying to memorise each other without crossing any lines they haven’t drawn out loud- but it never goes further than that. His hands stay respectful, if not reverent- one cupping her jaw, the other braced on the back of her seat or tangled gently on her waist, on her hip, in her hair. Her fingers clutch the hem of his shirt like a tether, holding on but not pulling him in any closer than he already is.

There’s a quiet fire, always simmering, but neither of them dare feed it too much. Neither of them dare ask what they are. It’s easier this way. Safer. They stay pressed into the quiet hum of those car rides, the warmth of shared fries, the heat of stolen kisses in the dark, and the steady, unspoken beat of something they’ve both grown addicted to but don’t yet understand.

Rafe leaned against the top of her car, forearms braced over the roof like he had all the time in the world. The late golden hour sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the near-empty staff lot behind the country club. His eyes squinted slightly from the light, jaw sharp as ever, that casual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth “What’s your hurry today, huh?” he drawled lazily, peering down at her with a teasing glint.

“You extra hungry or what?”

Y/N huffed, already halfway into the driver’s seat of her little beat-up car, one leg in, one out, “No asshole- I just don’t want anyone to spot us, okay?”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, the sound low and unbothered. He shrugged one shoulder and pushed off the car just enough to stretch lazily.

“It’s not a big deal.”

She snapped her head up to look at him, her tone sharper now, “Yeah, actually Rafe—it is a big deal. Because if JJ finds out—”

“I know”

He cut in, dragging a hand over his jaw, irritation flashing in his eyes. “If JJ finds out, he’ll be mad. Whatever. I get it, okay? No need to tell me again.”

The words hung between them for a second, heavier than either wanted them to be. The silence wasn’t angry- but it was tense. The same argument they hadn’t quite had, bubbling beneath their stolen moments. He stood there now by her open car door, his figure blocking some of the sunlight, casting a soft shadow over her where she sat inside the car. From where she was, her eye level landed right at his belt. Her gaze softened a bit, guilt tugging at her gut. Then her hand came up, absent-minded and almost sheepish, her fingers catching on the loop of his jeans. She played with it lightly, tugging once. A peace offering. His eyes flicked down to her hand, then to her face, jaw still tight. She asked quietly, tilting her head up at him with a playful sort of pout, brows lifted just a touch.

“You mad..?”

“No,” he replied, voice low. “Why would I be mad?”

She shrugged, still toying with the denim loop, “I dunno. I thought—” she cut herself off, shaking her head a little, “Doesn’t matter.”

Rafe didn’t press. He let it hang, then gave a soft hum, looking around the lot- empty still, save for their two cars and the rustle of wind through the nearby trees. “So,” he drawled, rocking back slightly on his heels.

“We going to get something to eat or what?”

Y/N brightened a little, grateful for the pivot. “I’m feelingggg…” she stretched the word dramatically, “Chinese?”

He smiled at that slightly, nodding, “Chinese sounds good.”

“Cool,” she said, pulling her legs fully into the car now, “I’ll meet you there then?”

He gave a small nod, “Yeah… yeah.”

But she could tell- by the way he paused before turning away, by the way his fingers twitched at his side- that he was still holding onto a bit of a grudge. He hadn’t gotten his kiss, not a real one. And that wounded pride was showing, even if he tried to hide it behind his nonchalant façade. She rolled her eyes with a soft exhale- who would have thought Rafe Cameron was so needy?

Reaching up, she curled her fingers into the front of his T-shirt, tugging him gently back down toward her, guiding him until he bent slightly, face now level with hers. His breath hitched, eyelashes fluttering as he leaned into her touch. She kissed him then- firm, but warm. Just enough to melt that sulking tension in his brow. His lips moved against hers with a soft hum, his hand bracing on the edge of her door as he leaned in a fraction more, savouring it. When she pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, lips parted like he wanted to chase her mouth again.

“You done now, you baby?”

She murmured with a crooked smile, eyes teasing but fond. Rafe’s smirk returned, slow and smug. “Yeah,” he murmured, straightening up,

“I’m done now.”

And with that, he backed away from the car, hands in his jacket pockets like he hadn’t just been melting under her touch. She watched him retreat toward his car, her heart doing that dumb little flutter it always did lately, it lingered in her chest. Just as his door swung open, he looked back over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

“Don’t forget the egg rolls.”

She rolled her eyes and started her car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The quiet hum of the radio filled the space between them, the soft crackle of music soothing after a long day. They sat there in the dim light of the car, the smell of Chinese food mingling with the fresh evening air that drafted in through the slightly cracked window. Y/N leaned back against the seat, her legs tucked up beneath her as she dug into her takeout container. Rafe sat beside her, elbow propped up on the door, his free hand reaching for his food, the sound of plastic utensils scraping against the containers faint in the otherwise still air. Rafe asked, his voice low as he finally broke the silence, his eyes flicking over to her as he stuffed a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“How was work?”

“It was… okay”

Y/N muttered, chewing before she continued, eyes shifting away from him for a moment, “Had this asshole customer... one of your friends actually.”

“One of my friends? Who?”

Rafe’s brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing slightly in curiosity as he put his food down. Y/N rolled her eyes as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression calm despite the frustration in her voice.

“That guy Brett? The one you hang out with sometimes. Total jerk.”

“Why, what did he do?”

Her expression tightened as she recounted the experience, “he kept clicking his fingers in my face like I was some kind of dog, and whenever I went over to his table, he called me ‘waitress’ like I’m not even good to have a name? God he was so patronising.”

“He really did that?”

He asked, disbelief creeping into his tone, jaw clenched. Y/N tilted her head toward him, not missing the change in his expression. 

“Yeah, why? You don’t believe me?”

“No” He muttered, his voice hardening a little as he picked up his food again, his hand gripping the chopsticks tighter than necessary.

“I believe you.”

He took a bite, chewing slowly as he fought the frustration that was rising inside him. A small silence settled between them, the only sound the soft clinking of their chopsticks against the takeout containers. Rafe didn’t like that she had to deal with people like that, didn’t like it one bit.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

He asked, his voice casual, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Y/N turned her head slowly toward him, her expression soft but guarded as she mumbled,

“Working.”

Rafe blinked raising an eyebrow, “It’s Saturday…?”

“Yeah, and?” She shrugged, taking another bite of her food, her voice low and almost dismissive. “I’m broke, Rafe. I’m always working.”

His eyes darkened again as he placed his food down with a soft clink, his fingers tapping against the lid of the container. He wasn’t about to let this go- he hated it, and they both knew it. He took a sip of his drink, the cold liquid hitting his throat like a jolt, but it did nothing to cool the fire that was building in him. He put the cup back in the cup holder with a sigh, his voice quieter but still firm.

“I don’t see why you can’t just take a break. You don’t always have to work.”

“We’re not having this conversation again Rafe.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered over to him, her face hardening slightly as she gave him a pointed look. He frowned, the words heavy in the air.

“Look, I get that maybe you think it’s embarrassing to accept my—”

“If you keep talking about this,” she interrupted, her tone sharper now, “I’m getting out of your car.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, taking in the shift in her expression- the quiet defensiveness there, the exhaustion she was trying to hide. He didn’t want to push her too hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. He paused, the weight of her words sinking in, then gave a short, almost defeated nod, like he was choosing to back off of the subject for now. Y/N didn’t say anything in response, her eyes softening as she turned back to her food, the brief tension hanging in the air like smoke. She had already given him her answer. She had already drawn the line before, and Rafe knew he’d have to respect it—for now. The silence that settled between them wasn’t heavy but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Just... quiet. Their takeout containers were nearly empty now, the scent of soy and spice lingering faintly in the car, blending with the low hum of music still playing in the background. Y/N had reclined her seat a bit, one leg tucked up under the other, the other stretched out, socked foot resting against the dashboard. Her shoes sat forgotten on the floor, and a soft breeze drifted in through the cracked window, brushing gently against her skin.

Rafe glanced over at her, his arm draped over the back of her seat, thumb idly brushing the seam of the leather. She looked content, even if a little tired- hair slightly messy from the day, lashes casting soft shadows across her cheekbones as she stared out at nothing in particular. He liked seeing her like this, unfiltered.

“There’s a party tomorrow night”

He said suddenly, voice quiet but breaking the lull between them. He reached forward, placing his empty cup in the holder before leaning back again, tapping a slow rhythm on his thigh. She turned her head lazily, brows knitting together slightly.

“A party?”

He nodded, “One of the beach houses on Figure Eight. Bunch of people’ll be there.” He paused, then looked over at her, expression unreadable.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Her head lifted a little more now, blinking at him like she wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. “Yeah.” He gave a slow shrug, feigning casual, but his eyes were locked on hers, watching closely.

“I’m gonna be there...”

“Since when do you want me showing up to a Kook party?”

Y/N sat up slightly in her seat, feet slipping from the dashboard and landing softly on the floor. He smirked lightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Since now.”

There was a beat of silence, then another. Her gaze searched his face, trying to find the catch—but there wasn’t one. Just Rafe, looking at her like he didn’t care if the whole island had something to say about her. She asked, voice lower now, almost testing him.

“You serious?”

“Yeah- I am.”

He leaned a little closer, one arm still draped along the back of her seat. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, watching him, chewing over the offer in her mind. The idea of being in that world with no responsibilities- even just for a night- felt risky. Foreign. But something in the way he was looking at her made it hard to say no.

“I don't know Rafe... I’d stick out like a sore thumb besides people will talk-”

"-people always talk”

He shot back cutting her off slightly, amused as she frowned slightly, arms crossing tighter as she shook her head a little.

“This is different. You know it is.”

Rafe tilted his head thinking deeply, but didn’t press her just yet, “Your friend’s gonna be there,” he said instead, voice smooth as ever.

“My—what? Who?”

“Sofia, right?”

He squinted slightly and Y/N straightened a little, her mouth dropping open at the mention of the girls name.

“Sofia’s going?”

“Yeah.” He was smirking now. “That guy she’s been seeing? The new Kook on the island? He’s the one throwing it.”

“She hasn’t told me that,” Y/N muttered, staring at him.

“Well.” He turned more toward her, resting his elbow against the console and tapping the edge of her thigh with his fingers playfully.

“Looks like you’re not the only one with a dirty little secret.”

She let out a shocked laugh, eyes widening at the words passing his lips before narrowing her gaze at him as she shoved his shoulder back, playful but not gentle,

“You’re such a dick, Cameron.”

He only grinned, letting her shove him- indulging in the feeling of her touch even if momentary. Y/N gave a little scoff and turned away, but her smile lingered. A beat of silence passed over them before she spoke out, “Fine,” she said, like it pained her to admit it.

“I guess I can… think about it.”

“Think about it?” Rafe echoed with mock offense, sitting up straighter, “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

She didn’t look at him this time, just smirked and reached down to close her container, the sound of clicking plastic filling the car. She then bent over placing it down on the floor, and as she sat back up Rafe leaned in closer again, slower this time, the tip of his nose brushing her jaw before his lips followed. He kissed the curve beneath her ear, then slowly worked his lips down the side of her neck.

"Maybe I can persuade you to come hmm...?"

“You’re such a perv”

She mumbled through a grin, her hand finding his chest and giving him a half-hearted push. He pulled back slightly, lips acting from her skin as he muttered,

“So… still a no?”

“Fine... I’ll come.”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile that betrayed her. Rafe sat back accomplished as he spoke out, “Knew you'd give in.”

“But,” she added, wagging a finger at him. “You’re not glued to me all night, okay? Or people will notice.”

“Relax. We’ll keep it lowkey.”

He gave her that cocky, lopsided grin again and before she could snark back another smart-assed comment, he hit the button on the side of his seat. With a low mechanical whir, his chair reclined all the way back, and he stretched out like a king- arms behind his head, t-shirt rising just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach. Then he patted his thigh, smirking.

“So… where were we?”

Y/N shook her head, heat prickling her cheeks as she shifted toward him again, “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but her knees were already crawling across the seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had long dipped below the tree line now, and the soft golden wash of string lights gave the Chateau its usual hazy, warm glow. A lazy summer night settled in with the gentle hum of cicadas in the distance and the low bass of music crackling from the old speaker propped up on a makeshift crate. Everyone was sprawled out in their usual places- Cleo had her legs kicked up on the railing, passing a blunt between her fingers, while Pope leaned back in one of the rickety lawn chairs, letting the smoke curl from his mouth toward the night sky. JJ was stretched across the hammock, shirtless of course, balancing a beer on his chest while making some offhand joke that had Kiara snorting into her drink. John B sat on the edge of the porch, Sarah curled comfortably in his lap, her fingers absentmindedly threading through his messy hair as she hummed along to the music. Then, like she suddenly remembered something juicy, Sarah’s voice piped up.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you guys.”

Everyone’s eyes flicked toward her lazily, half-baked or halfway drunk. JJ raised an eyebrow, already skeptical. “There’s this party tomorrow night. One of the beach houses on Figure Eight — some rich kid’s throwing it. But I got the invite,” she emphasized with a little smirk, twirling a lock of her blonde hair,

“which means you guys can come too!”

There was a collective beat of silence, then came the chaos.

“A kook party?” Pope made a face. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Hard pass”

Kiara chimed in, swirling what was left in her cup. JJ sat up a bit in the hammock, giving Sarah a look of exaggerated offence, “Sarah — my best friend’s dearest girlfriend — why the hell would I willingly put myself in a room full of kooks with their Vineyard Vines shirts and trust funds?”

“Kook fest? I don't think so- rude boy's got a point."

Cleo added, completely unfazed. Sarah groaned dramatically, tossing her head back against John B’s shoulder, “Guys, everyone on the island’s been invited. Literally everyone. You want to miss the one time we can sneak in and drink their expensive-ass booze and pretend to be civilised?”

John B scratched the back of his neck, “I mean… Sare, are you sure this is a good idea? These things usually end in someone getting arrested or beat up.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” she shot back smiling up at him, “Come on, baby...”

JJ shook his head with a mock sigh, “I do love chaos, but I also love not getting decked by some pastel-wearing rich boy with a superiority complex.”

“C’monnn,” Sarah pleaded, eyes bouncing between them all. “Free booze. Loud music. Rich kids being embarrassing. You telling me you wanna miss that?” JJ glanced around, took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like he was warming up to the idea.

“Free booze, huh?”

“Like actually free”

Sarah said, perking up as she nodded her head. Kiara sighed before adding to the ongoing debate. “Okay I guess if we go in a group, it’s not like they can kick us all out.”

Pope laughed, “That’s comforting.”

“So it’s decided then?”

Sarah asked, clapping her hands and JJ leaned back with a smirk.

“Eh why the hell not. 

The chatter faded back into that familiar haze- the music a little louder now, the clinking of glass bottles, occasional bursts of laughter echoing under the soft glow of the porch lights. JJ had flopped dramatically back into the hammock, tossing a peanut at Pope, who swatted it away with a sharp “cut that out”, but he was grinning as he said it. Kiara and Cleo were side by side, passing the blunt like it was a baton in the slowest relay race known to man, and Sarah was still curled into John B, nose buried in his neck as she murmured something that made him laugh under his breath. Then the crunch of gravel under tires caught their ears- a car rolling up toward the end of the drive, headlights slicing through the trees. Everyone instinctively turned to look, and when the engine cut and the door swung open, a familiar silhouette stepped out.

“Y/N!”

Sarah called out instantly, lifting her hand in a wave. JJ was already in motion. He practically leapt out of the hammock with a lopsided grin on his face, his movements loose and full of that buzzed joy that lived in him when he was around his people. He jogged toward her, arms wide like he was about to tackle her. Y/N had barely rounded her door when JJ crashed into her, arms circling tight around her waist and lifting her a few inches off the ground in a twirling hug. She let out a breathless laugh, one arm instinctively hooking around his shoulder.

“Jay, are you drunk?”

“Yes ma’am”

He said proudly, nuzzling his nose against her cheek like a sleepy golden retriever. John B called out from the porch, raising his beer in salute.

“And high!”

“Wow what a responsible crowd I’ve joined.”

She looked past JJ and shook her head smiling, JJ grinned and still half-latched to her side laced his fingers between hers and started tugging her toward the group.

“Welcome, my dear sister, to the finest motive on the island.”

“Yeah, it looks so lit”

Y/N snorted as she said dryly, eyeing the half-deflated pool float on the lawn and Kiara using a stick to fish a beer bottle cap out of the fire pit. Pope looked up and offered her a beer, cracking open another one.

“You want?”

“Nah, I’m driving.”

She shook her head, raising a hand politely. JJ was still practically glued to her back, and now his chin came to rest on her shoulder, his head leaning sleepily against hers like gravity had chosen her specifically. She glanced sideways, her voice softening.

“You okay, mister?”

“Right as rain”

He murmured, words muffled against the collar of her white work polo. Y/N smiled to herself and brought one hand up to gently pat his cheek, a small fondness in her eyes. She dropped down onto the worn-out quilt Pope had stretched across the grass, tucking her legs beneath her and setting her keys in a little pile beside the cooler. The smell of bonfire smoke and salty air clung to everything, and the mellow strum of a guitar looped in the background from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. The Chateau felt hazy with summer warmth and low buzzed laughter, like time didn’t really exist here.

“Y'missed blondie trying to backflip off the porch railing”

Cleo said, raising her eyebrows at the girl, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she handed her a cold bottle of water. Pope snorted from where he sat beside her,

“More like he tripped, flailed, and then landed face-first into the lawn chair. Truly a work of art.”

“Sounds about right.”

Y/N laughed, tilting her head back slightly as she wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Y/N!” Sarah suddenly perked up from where she was comfortably curled up on John B’s lap, her legs stretched out across the blanket and her fingers idly threading through his curls.

“I almost forgot to tell you- we’re all going to a party tomorrow night. You have to come”

“Oh—uh…”

Y/N hesitated for a split second. Shit. Rafe had already invited her out tomorrow- there was no way she could show up two places at the same time. She furrowed her brows thinking of a quick excuse, “I don’t think I can,” she said slowly.

“Sofia asked me to cover her shift tomorrow night. Late shift.”

The groans came instantly.

“Noooo” Kiara moaned out in disappointment. “Again?” Cleo frowned as she spoke, “Girl, you’re always working.” JJ leaned up, pulling a dramatic face as he sat up behind her, one hand propped on the ground and the other pointing accusingly.

“Y/N- my sweet, overachieving sister. You never go out.”

“I do go out!”

“When?!” JJ countered, hand waving wildly, “Name one time that we went out that didn’t involve grocery shopping or pretending not to cry while pumping gas for my bike cause you can't afford it.”

“JJ, please,” she groaned, rubbing at her forehead the others watching the small sibling quarrel, “Sofia never gets nights off. I have to fill in for her.”

But even as she said it, her mind was moving. What if I go to Rafe’s first? Just for a bit. Then come late, no one would know, they're on different sides of the island. She knew it was risky but- it was worth the risk if it meant getting her brother off her back. She sighed, trying to keep it casual.

“Where is it anyway... maybe I can stop by before it ends.”

Sarah perked up instantly at the question, “New guy just moved into this insane house on Figure 8- I’m technically on the guest list, so by extension, that means all of you get to come.”

Y/N froze.

Her stomach sank, it’s the same party. Her chest tightened like a fist was forming right behind her ribs. The same one Rafe is going to and now… JJ would be there. All of them would be there. She forced a tight smile, heart beating a little faster and her throat closed up slightly. She can’t go. She can’t risk it—JJ seeing her with Rafe? No. Absolutely not. That would ruin everything. He’d lose it. He’d probably have a fit and if he didn’t, the look in his eyes would be worse. She felt herself retreat inward for a split second- like her body was still sitting there on the blanket, but her mind was miles away, spiralling in panic. Then- she forced it back. Forced her lips into a smile, stretched just wide enough to pass as real. She said, voice smooth,

“I’ll see if I can make it”

“Yeah?”

JJ looked over at her, suspiciously squinting, she nodded without hesitation.

“Maybe just for a bit.”

Even as the lie came out of her mouth, her brain was already racing. Y/N cleared her throat softly, still gripping the now half-empty water bottle in her hand. Her eyes swept across the group lounging lazily on the worn blankets and cushions sprawled out on the overgrown lawn.

“I actually think I’m gonna head back now”

She said, standing up slowly and brushing the bits of grass and twigs from her shorts, “Just came to check up on you guys.”

JJ looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged now on a faded beach towel, lips wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle, and gave her a lazy, crooked smile. He winked, blonde hair a windswept mess.

“Mission accomplished sis.”

She rolled her eyes at him, amusement flickering behind her lashes, and bent to grab her keys from the little crate they’d been using as a table.

“You coming back or staying the night?”

She asked, giving him a look as she nodded toward the house, her tone light but a little pointed the role of big sister coming naturally. Before JJ could even open his mouth to respond, John B was already groaning dramatically from the other side of the blanket. “Take him,” he said, flopping his head back against the tree behind him.

“Please. I don’t want him here. He eats everything and he talks in his sleep.”

Sarah burst into laughter in his lap, her whole body shaking with it as she nearly spilled the beer in her hand. “He really does! The other night he mumbled something about raccoons with spatulas.”

“That was one time!”

JJ threw his hands up like he was being framed for a crime. Y/N just bit back a laugh, fighting back a grin watching the chaos unfold with fondness. JJ tilted his head, smirking toward her. “And just because of that,” he said smug as hell,

“I shall be staying the night here. With Mr. John Booker Routledge.”

A round of exaggerated groans erupted from the rest of the group. Y/N laughed under her breath, her fingers still gripping her keys as she shook her head fondly at them. “Alright, alright,” she said,

“Have fun then... don’t get too smashed.”

“No promises!” Kiara called out with a wide smile, raising her can in salute.

“Speak for yourself,” Pope muttered. “I have dignity unlike some.”

That earned another laugh from the group.

Y/N smiled again, softer this time, eyes briefly flicking back to her brother. He caught her gaze and shot her a lopsided grin, one that still looked more boyish than he probably intended. It made something ache a little in her chest- an affection threaded with worry she’d never admit out loud.

“Night Jay”

She murmured before reaching over to ruffle his hair messily. He smiled her lazily before flopping back onto the blanket like a man who had no thoughts, no responsibilities, and no idea that his sister was walking a tightrope he couldn’t see. Y/N turned, the noise behind her fading into the hum of summer insects and music humming from the portable speaker, and walked back to her car,

The car door creaked softly as Y/N pulled it open, the familiar weight of it grounding her just a little. She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind her with a muted thunk, the quiet inside the car swallowing up the laughter still drifting from the Chateau. The engine wasn’t running yet, and the warm evening air clung to her skin like a second layer. It smelled like sun-warmed leather and pine needles.

For a moment, she just sat there. Her fingers hovered over her bag before she reached in and pulled out her phone, the screen lighting up as soon as her thumb brushed the side. No new messages. Just the same old wallpaper of a blurry sunset and the faint glint of her own reflection staring back. She hesitated and her thumb hovered over the screen for another beat- then tapped into her messages.

Rafe

The name alone made her chest tighten a little. She bit down on her lower lip, chewing at the soft skin absently. Her other hand reached up to pull her hair away from her face, then fell limply against her lap. The inside of the car felt like it was shrinking. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, a sharp whisper into the quiet. She tapped the messages open. Leaning her head back, she let it fall gently against the headrest, eyes blinking up at the roof of the car as she let out a long, tired sigh. Her fingers rested against the phone in her lap, before tapping her fingers against the screen.

She started typing. Hey, change of plans. I might not— Backspace. No. Too vague so she tried again. Something came up— Backspace. Her heart thudded in her chest, slow and heavy. Then she typed with more finality this time:

Bunny : I'm sorry but I can't do tmr

She stared at it. Read it once. Then twice. Then, with a small exhale that she couldn’t quite tell was relief or regret, she hit send. The text shot off into the thread, disappearing into that blue bubble like a stone dropped into deep water. She locked her phone again, let her head fall back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Her lips pressed into a line. Maybe that’s for the best, she told herself. Maybe-

Buzz.

Her eyes snapped open. The screen lit up and she unlocked it quickly, thumb tapping into the thread without thinking.

Rafe : what why not

Short and blunt. Her stomach twisted, that anxious little knot curling a bit tighter as her thumbs moved again.

Bunny : Your sister’s going to be there which means JJ’s gonna be there

She sat there, holding her breath like it’d keep her heart from thudding so hard. The typing bubble appeared instantly, three dots bouncing like they knew what they were about to say was going to matter more than it should.

Rafe : so what?

Of course, she thought bitterly, jaw tightening. But before she could respond, another message popped up. She blinked, stunned by how he could sound so calm about something that made her whole chest tighten.

Rafe : Why is that a problem

Bunny : It’s a problem cause he’ll see us

Her fingers tapped harder this time and her hand trembled slightly as she held the phone. She hated this—how tense it made her. How she had to think of all the possible consequences when Rafe didn’t even seem to care.

Rafe : are you serious

Bunny : Yes I’m serious wtf do u mean???

Her reply came before she could even second-guess herself but then… nothing. No bubble, no typing dots and her eyes flicked to the corner of the screen at the bottom. Read. That was it? He read it and then disappeared. A dry laugh escaped her lips, more disbelieving than amused. She pushed her palm against her forehead, trying to will away the creeping frustration crawling beneath her skin.

Rafe : You’re really gonna let your brother control us

Bunny : He’s not controlling us

Rafe : Well he’s controlling this.

Her teeth sunk into her lip again, harder this time as the message made her fingers still. She stared at the words, something bitter blooming behind her ribs. Then she typed, slowly, like the question had been sitting on her tongue for a while- because it had.

Bunny : What is this

Bunny : What even is 'this' Rafe?

Read

The air in the car felt heavy now. Thick with silence and words that would never be spoken aloud. She watched the screen for a beat. Then two. Then five. The beats turned into a minute but still there was no response from him so her fingers moved again of their own accord.

Bunny : seriously

Bunny : Leaving me on read are you being for real

Bunny : Hello?

Still.

No answer.

Her mouth twisted into a scoff, this one sharper. Less disbelief and more hurt. She leaned her head back against the seat, her knuckles white where she clutched the phone. She could feel it bubbling now- not anger, not really. Just… disappointment. That familiar ache that curled into her chest when something started to crack and she knew she couldn’t fix it. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she typed one last time.

Bunny : Grow up Rafe

Then she dropped the phone into the empty cup holder with a soft clack and her hands came up, pressing into her face, covering her eyes. She let out a breath- long and slow and quiet. She didn’t even know what this was anymore, or what she wanted it to be.

All she knew was that it hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bass was thumping hard enough to make the floorboards vibrate. Music roared from massive speakers set up on the back patio of the mansion, spilling into every corner of the sprawling beach house like a pulse. The crowd was thick—Kooks and Pogues alike stood packed shoulder to shoulder, laughing, grinding, shouting over the noise. Red solo cups littered the deck, the grass, the kitchen counters. Half-empty bottles of liquor sat abandoned on tables, the scent of alcohol and sweat clinging to the humid air. Inside, the lighting was low and tinted gold, shadows dancing as bodies moved through the house, more people flooded through the front door- new arrivals, drawn in by the promise of booze and the thrill of recklessness that always hung thick in the air.

Rafe was in the middle of it, standing near the table on the backyard patio where a lineup of liquor bottles had turned into a makeshift bar. His button-down was half undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, collar a little askew. He reached for another shot, his fingers curled tight around the glass rim as he knocked it back, throat bobbing as the burn slid down. “Bro,” Kelce said, squinting as he leaned forward, voice slurred with the edge of tipsy concern.

“I never do this but- maybe slow down a little”

“That’s like, your seventh” Topper added from where he was slouched against the couch, a beer dangling between his fingers.

“You good man?”

“I’m fine”

Rafe muttered, his voice low, gruff, and not even remotely convincing. His jaw flexed as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his damp forehead. He didn’t look at either of them as he spoke but he wasn’t fine. Not even close. His head was heavy, the alcohol catching up to him in a sluggish crawl through his limbs. He could feel it in his slow, unsteady blink. In the weight of his shoulders, in the way the music felt a little too loud, a little too sharp.

She wasn’t here- Y/N wasn’t here.

And he hated that it mattered. Hated that he kept glancing toward the front door every time someone new walked in- just in case she'd changed her mind. Hated that he could hear her voice in the back of his mind. “I can’t go, your sister’s going to be there” ... “JJ will be there” ... “He’ll see us.” His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, the burn of the liquor lingering in his chest. She was always so damn concerned about JJ, about keeping him in the dark- about keeping them in the dark.

Like this is all some secret she needs to protect.

Topper was saying something again, laughing about a girl he’d hooked up with last weekend, but Rafe didn’t hear it. He was staring at the countertop, where drops of clear liquor beaded on the marble surface. His hand was still fisted around the empty shot glass. He looked like a storm waiting to happen- cheeks a little flushed, eyes shadowed and distant, lip twitching at the corner in a scowl. But under it all, he was sulking. Quietly. Bitterly. Like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted.

And all he wanted was her.

The rumble of the Twinkie pulling up was swallowed by the thump of music echoing off the walls of the massive house. Lights flashing inside spilled through the tall windows in bursts that lit up the manicured lawn and the stretch of cars already jammed up along the curb. The Pogues piled out- John B leading the charge in his usual messy curls with Sarah right on his heels, her blonde hair catching the light like a halo. JJ slammed the passenger door shut with his hip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose cargo shorts, eyes flicking over the crowd on the lawn before following- Pope, Kiara and Cleo weren’t far behind.

The house was huge. Open floor plan, high ceilings, the kind of kitchen you only saw on cooking shows. People were everywhere—on the stairs, pressed against walls, spilling onto balconies. It smelled like weed and citrus vodka, and someone in the hallway was definitely already throwing up. “Damn,” John B muttered as they walked in, eyebrows raised.

“This place is nice.”

“No shit”

Pope said, already eyeing the built-in speakers in the ceiling. Cleo let out a low whistle and made a beeline for the massive kitchen island, where liquor bottles and mixers lined the counters like a buffet. She said with a grin, snatching a bottle of rum and starting to pour,

“The free alcohol is even nicer”

“Now this is why I dragged you guys here..’.”

Sarah laughed, reaching over to help herself to a half-mixed drink and Kiara grabbed a couple of plastic cups, handing them around. The music rattled the cabinets, the floor under their shoes vibrating faintly in time with the beat. People were dancing in the next room, someone yelling something about beer pong from the backyard, but the Pogues took a moment to regroup in the kitchen. JJ stood a bit apart from the group, back braced against the counter, swirling whatever was in his cup without really drinking it. His hat was pulled low, hair curling beneath the brim, and there was a little pinch between his brows that hadn’t faded since they arrived. Kiara noticed first. She nudged him gently with her elbow, tilting her head toward him.

“She’s not coming then?”

JJ blinked, not catching the question right away over the music.

“Huh?”

“Y/N- she’s not coming?”

Sarah repeated, louder this time, looking up from her drink. JJ’s expression tightened for a split second, and he looked down into his cup like it suddenly had answers. “Nah,” he said, voice clipped.

“She’s not.”

There was something in the way he said it in a short and flat tone, a little irritated like he didn’t want to care, but he did. Kiara gave a small nod and didn’t press. Instead, she reached out, rubbed his arm gently with her hand before stepping away to help Pope crack open a bottle of something suspiciously blue. No one said anything else. But in the middle of the crowd, under the flashing lights and the pounding bass, JJ stood a little stiller than the rest. Eyes drifting toward the front door they'd came through like maybe- just maybe- she’d still show.

Rafe shoved his way through the backyard, the lights and thumping music cutting through the cool air like a heavy pulse. He could feel the tension in his chest, the tightness that hadn’t loosened since their texts earlier... "What is this"... That question had been eating at him ever since because he didn't know what it was. But that didn't change the fact that his mind kept circling back to her. The way she made him feel, how easy it was to talk to her, how easy it was to just be around her- it wasn’t like anything he'd ever experienced. And it scared him. Because he wasn’t the kind of guy to get tangled up in feelings, he didn’t do that. But Y/N, she was different- it unsettled him. He couldn’t admit that to her, though. Couldn’t let her know that she was getting under his skin, into his bloodstream like a drug, that she was getting too close.

By the time he made it through the crowd and into the kitchen, he was ready for another drink, maybe more than one. The sound of glass bottles clinking and people chatting loudly barely registered in his mind as he reached the counter, eyes scanning the chaos for what he needed. He was almost there, his hand reaching for the first bottle of vodka, when he collided with someone.

Thud

He didn’t even flinch, just kept moving forward until he heard a sharp, annoyed voice.

“Excuse me?”

Rafe’s shoulder had shoved into Sarah, causing her to stumble back just a little. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowing with irritation. He didn’t care and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for small talk with her.

“You’re excused”

He muttered back, not even bothering to meet her eyes as he grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off.

“Asshole”

Sarah muttered under her breath, clearly unamused, but Rafe wasn’t listening. He poured the liquor into his cup with a steady hand, watching the clear liquid slosh into the glass. The burn in his throat might’ve been the only thing that could numb the frustration gnawing at him. He downed it in one go, feeling it course through his body. Rafe stood near the edge of the kitchen, the alcohol still burning in his stomach as he surveyed the crowd. The noise was becoming a dull roar in the background, a blur of laughter and shouting, but his mind was still running on autopilot. He tried to focus on his drink, twisting the glass in his hand, but then something caught his ear.

JJ

He was talking to John B, and it didn’t take long for Rafe to hear the frustration in his voice. JJ’s words carried across the room, loud enough for Rafe to pick up on.

“I don’t get it bro”

JJ was saying, his voice edged with something close to bitterness already lightly slurred from the alcohol he consumed since they arrived, “Y/N’s always working. Always dude. It’s like- I literally got a job so she could work less? And she still can’t make time for anything. Not for me. Not for us. She's always got some lame ass excuse.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened at the sound of JJ’s voice, and he instinctively stepped closer to the conversation, the growing frustration in his chest gnawing at him. He watched as JJ’s face twisted, anger bubbling up in his expression.

“She’s never around anymore. Like, she’s always somewhere else, doing something else. It’s like she doesn't care- You know what? Maybe it’s just me she doesn’t want to spend time with maybe I’m just a fucking inconvenience to her.”

John B shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how to respond. He just nodded slowly, not really agreeing or disagreeing as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. Rafe’s pulse spiked. His chest felt tight, and for a moment, the room seemed to narrow around him. His fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles went white.

He was angry.

No, he was beyond angry.

He could feel the heat rising in his body, but it wasn’t just because of JJ’s words. It was the way he was talking about Y/N, so dismissively, so coldly. The kitchen was still a chaotic blend of chatter and clinking glass, the music vibrating through the floor, and the air thick with alcohol. But his mind wasn’t on the drink anymore. It was on her—on Y/N. On the way she would slave away all day in her shitty job only to go home to a brother who wasn't even grateful? He could hear JJ’s voice cutting through the noise of the house, loud and full of venom. Rafe turned, just in time to catch the words.

“Acting like she’s such a good fuckin’ sister,” JJ spat, his words as he gestured around. “When she can’t even take the time out of her day to talk to me. It’s a fuckin’ jok, man..”

John B was still next to him, leaning against the counter, his eyes tired, clearly not wanting to get involved in the growing tension. But he let out a soft sigh and said,

“Come on, man. You’re being a little harsh she does a lot for you-”

“-No. I’m not,”

But JJ wasn’t having it. His face twisted into a mix of frustration and bitterness. “She doesn't give a damn about anyone but herself," he snapped, his voice louder now.

"She’s a shitty fuckin’ sister.”

Rafe could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest. He was barely holding it together at this point. His hand clenched around his glass, and without thinking, he pushed himself away from where he was and made his way towards the blonde haired pogue,“Hey-” Rafe’s voice was rough, his jaw tightening,

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

JJ didn’t even hesitate as his brow furrowed, his head snapping toward Rafe, his eyes narrowing. The smirk on his face was all cocky arrogance, like he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Rafe stood in front of JJ, his fists clenched so tightly around the edge of the counter that his knuckles were turning white. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the alcohol in his system only amplifying the frustration that had been simmering for hours.

"You really think you know your sister?"

Rafe's voice cut through the tension like a blade, each word laced with disbelief and a deepening anger. His gaze was intense, narrowing as he stared down at JJ, his stance aggressive and unsteady from the booze. JJ didn’t flinch, instead, he scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, well, what the fuck do you know about her?”

The words were laced with spite, his eyes flashing as he shot back, barely holding back his irritation. He was drunk, way too much to back down. The space between them was closing, both of them leaning in slightly, their bodies tense as if they were about to collide. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes flickered between JJ’s face and the rest of the room. John B was already sighing, rubbing his hand over his face, clearly feeling the impending collision. His tone was a little exasperated.

“Alright, guys... let's not do this tonight.”

But his words were barely a whisper in the whirlwind of tension between JJ and Rafe. They didn't take their eyes off each other. Rafe stood his ground, every inch of his body radiating the anger and frustration he’d been holding back all night. His expression twisted into something cold, nasty, as his voice came out low, almost a growl.

"A lot more than you"

He spat, the words dripping with contempt. JJ’s eyes flared with fury, and before anyone fully processed the insult, his body reacted. Without thinking, he shoved Rafe, a rough, sudden motion that sent the air between them crackling.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

His words were sharp, cutting through the already tense atmosphere like a knife. The crowd around them seemed to gather and the only thing that mattered now seemed to be this confrontation, the two of them standing face to face, inches away from an explosion. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his teeth gritting as he stumbled back just a half-step from the shove. But he didn’t let it slide, his eyes burned with rage, and with a brutal shove of his own, he sent JJ stumbling back.

“Get off me, you dirty fucking pogue”

He snarled, his voice a low rasp. John B and Pope, sensing the situation spiraling, rushed in to intervene, but their voices only seemed to intensify the already-fueled fire.

“Hey, hey—alright JJ stop."

“C’mon man”

John B called out, his tone a mix of frustration and concern, his hand on JJ’s arm trying to pull him back. But JJ, his face red with anger, ignored them, shoving them off as if they were nothing. His eyes were locked on Rafe, his fists trembling with barely contained rage. Sarah, standing nearby, caught sight of the escalating tension and turned to Rafe with an incredulous expression.

“What is your problem?”

She spoke out her voice sharp as he brows drew down into a concerned frown, but Rafe didn’t even glance at her. His attention was fully on JJ, the hate between them palpable. The room seemed to hold its breath, the entire kitchen watching in stunned interest as the two guys stood their postures defiant, aggressive. JJ, unable to take the weight of the situation anymore, spun on his heel and began to turn away, his anger boiling over, his fists still clenched with popes hand on his arm leading him away. But Rafe’s voice, cutting through the tense silence, sliced through the air like a final verdict.

“I pity her for having a brother like you”

He said, the words slow and deliberate, aimed to sting. The room went deathly quiet apart from a few low mutters, and for a split second and the words hung in the air like a curse. JJ froze, his back to Rafe, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His body went rigid, the hurt flashing in his eyes as he clenched his jaw tighter. Kiara’s voice came through softly, but it was too late.

“JJ don’t”

She pleaded, but JJ had already turned and with a motion of pure, unfiltered anger, he threw a punch, his fist flying straight at Rafe’s face with all the pent-up rage he’d been holding back. The force behind it was hard enough to knock Rafe off balance, and in that moment, the air around them seemed to explode. Everything that had been building up, the tension, the anger, the frustration- finally came to a head.

And just like that, the fight erupted.

The air was thick with the sounds of punches landing, grunts of pain, and the occasional slap of skin against skin. People's previous murmuring had turned to excited yells and cheers, phones being raised as they recorded the ordeal. JJ’s vision was red, every inch of his body screamed as he threw wild punches, each one landing with force, but Rafe was no slouch- he met every hit with a violent shove or a retaliatory strike of his own. JJ's jaw was clenched tight as he pushed against Rafe, throwing a punch that caught him square in the ribs, causing the other man to grunt in pain. Rafe staggered but didn’t fall, instead grabbing JJ’s shirt and yanking him forward with a growl. Their faces were inches apart, both of them breathing heavily, sweat and blood mixing, the scent of alcohol clouding the air. Rafe’s eyes were wild, his face contorted with anger as he bit out the words through gritted teeth, each syllable harsh and slurred.

“If you love your sister so much, why is she always running to me when she’s got problems, huh?”

His grip tightened on JJ’s shirt, pulling him in closer, their faces just inches from one another. His words were cold, bitter. JJ blinked, his mind struggling to process what Rafe just said. His nostrils flared as his nose dripped blood, a line of crimson streaking down his face. JJ’s voice was a low growl, disoriented, the anger still there but replaced by confusion.

“What?”

“That’s what I thought”

Rafe sneered, a harsh laugh falling from his lips, his bloodshot eyes alight with a murderous glint. JJ’s fury surged again, his face lit with rage as his eyes narrowed, locking onto Rafe’s smug expression. Without warning, he launched himself forward, his head connecting with Rafe’s face in a brutal headbutt. The impact was sickening- Rafe’s head snapped back violently, and a grunt escaped him. He staggered back a step, dazed, blood oozing from his busted lip.

Rafe didn’t back down, he shoved JJ with both hands, sending him stumbling back a few steps. The two of them were back at it in an instant, their bodies crashing together, fists flying in every direction. JJ’s elbow connected with Rafe’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Rafe faltered this time, falling backward, his balance compromised. He hit the ground hard, the floor beneath him rattling. For a split second, the fight paused. Rafe lay there, stunned, his chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch his breath. But JJ was already on him, a feral grunt escaping his throat as he scrambled to pin Rafe down. He grabbed Rafe’s polo top, yanking him up to his face, his grip like iron. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps as he leaned in close, his face twisted in disgust.

“Don’t fucking talk about my sister like you know her- you don't know anything about her- you don't know her like I do.”

JJ snarled, his voice low and seething. His words were laced with every ounce of hurt, frustration, and protective anger he could muster. Rafe’s head lolled back for a moment, his eyes glazed and unfocused from the blows. He let out a drunken, mocking scoff, a bitter chuckle escaping from his busted lips. His mouth was smeared with blood, but the sneer on his face was unmistakable, even through the haze of intoxication. He muttered so only the blonde boy could hear, the words sharp, but somehow quieter than before.

“You didn’t even know she was pregnant”

The entire world seemed to stop in that instant.

JJ's grip slackened, his fingers loosening around Rafe’s shirt and his chest tightened as the words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him in an instant. John B and Pope, who had been trying to pull the two apart for the last few moments, finally managed to tear JJ off Rafe. JJ didn’t resist this time, his body felt stiff like stone, his mind struggling to catch up with what he just heard. Rafe lay on the floor, barely able to lift his head, but his voice, now quieter and almost hollow, drifted through the space between them. “Yeah,” he said, his words slow and deliberate,

“She didn’t tell you, JJ. She came to me.”

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ou need more igor x reader… in a drought

You ask and you will receive! Sorry it took a while!

Little Glimpses (2)

Igor (Anora) x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: insecurity; alcohol consumption; fluff

Part One

You couldn’t shut your brain off, you’d been tossing and turning all night. The noises of the city outside would distract you when it became too loud and then you longed for it when it fell silent. You became fixated on the little bit of light from the street lamp that shone in through the blinds. You were so tired and your body ached for sleep. You felt like you were so close, but no matter what- you remained restless.

“You okay?” Igor stirs awake beside you. You feel immensely guilty for waking him up- even though it was unintentional.

“Can’t sleep,” you grumble, trying to burrow into your pillow, shifting your body once more to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at the red numbers on your alarm clock face, suddenly feeling like the light from it is too bright. 3:23 AM You were fucked for how early you needed to get up for work.

He’s always so good at reading you- anticipating your needs, sometimes before you even know the problem yourself. He rolls onto his side so he’s facing you and he strokes your hair softly. It does wonders for you. You yawn softly, feeling your eyes finally get a little heavy. He kisses your forehead, and then the tip of your nose, and then your cheek, until he places a soft kiss on your lips. His large hand runs along the length of your side before settling on your waist.

He closes his eyes again, and pulls your body in closer. Your face rests against his strong chest and his chin rests on the top of your head. Like this, the outside factors that were bothering you had deafened. You felt grounded when he would hold you like this.

You’re snoring softly almost instantly, and he makes sure you’re up in time in the morning before he leaves.

You love him, you love him so much that it hurts when he’s not around, and it fucking scares you. Everything you have with him is so goddamn wonderful that it’s maddening. You get in your own head. You haven’t loved anyone like this before, and you are so scared of fucking everything up. You can’t tell him- it would just ruin everything. It makes this beautiful little thing suddenly something so painstakingly real. He’s been so patient with you- letting you take this at your pace. You feel like eventually you will get in your own way and fuck everything up.

He’s so nonchalant about it that if you didn’t need that from it, you’d find him infuriating. You’re sitting on the front steps of his grandmother’s house, waiting for him to get home from his shift. You anxiously tap your foot against the pavement. You needed to tell him before it completely tore you up from the inside out. When he pulls up to the curb, he gets out of the car- surprised but still very happy to see you.

“Hey you-“

“I love you!” You blurt, panicked and wide eyed. You shouted it before you lost your courage. It was not ideal, but you give yourself credit for doing it. You feel yourself spiral, trying to gauge his reaction as he says nothing the first few agonizingly long seconds. He smiles. How dare he.

“I love you too,” he states, crouching down to be eye level with you seated on the first step. He holds your face with his hand and kisses you. It’s so absolute, he says it like it’s just a fact. It is, in a way, really. Of course he loves you, he loves you every day. He shows you every day. He’s so sincere with his affection for you that you should know how much he loved you without needing to hear him say it. But he loves to say it just the same.

When you’re at the bar together, he doesn’t take his hands off you. It’s not in a douche-y possessive way like one would assume. He just loves being near you, and touching you helps keeps him grounded from his own anxieties. He doesn’t love the bar scene, never has. He deals with it all night when he works. But, he’ll go with you when you need a night out.

His hand will stay on the small of your back. Or, he’ll keep his arm wrapped around your shoulder or your waist, rubbing small circles on your skin. He’ll wrap both of his arms around you from behind and kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder before resting his chin there. He’ll hold your hand, or even just link his pinky with yours. He’ll kiss your temple as you catch up talking with your friends.

As you’re sitting on your bed, he’ll take care of you when you’re too drunk when the two of you get back. Kneeling between your legs, he bites his lip in concentration as he takes off your makeup gently with your pack of makeup wipes. He’s so focused and all you can do is stare at him, awestruck at just how pretty he is. He helps you out of your heels, kissing your sore ankles. He helps you shimmy out of your dress and into your most comfortable pajamas that you love. He has you sit up, your back flush to his chest, and he’ll brush out your hair and he can mimic how you get it ready for bed having watched you do it a million times.

In the summertime months, when its too hot to even think straight- you’ll go to the beach. Sandy towels laid out next to one another and you both just lay in the sun for hours. The sun is the kind of bright that makes it feel like your sunglasses are doing nothing. If you didn’t have them on, maybe you would have noticed the way his back was beginning to burn. He has to drive in such a way that his back doesn’t rest back against the driver's seat.

He’ll lay on his back, shirtless and miserable, spread out on your bed. You’ll be slow and methodical, rubbing the cooling aloe vera across the expanse of his back trying to be as gentle as possible. He softly groans in relief as he feels your hands run down and up his skin. If the burn didn’t hurt so bad, maybe this would’ve led to something more.

You’d been feeling insecure, down on yourself, and you couldn’t shake it. You know he loves you, you trust him more than anyone, yet your mind isn’t always your friend. He’s still working as a bouncer- and you know he hates it- can’t stand working nights. You get in your own head when you think about how many girls he sees every night. How many of them must flirt with him to get in when the line is long? What if he ever met someone else? He’s done nothing to make you think that has happened or would ever happen. It doesn’t make it bother you any less.

It stings when he pulls away from cuddling with you on your couch when he needs to go to work. He hated leaving, he’d much rather stay with you than stand outside in the dark and the cold for the next several hours. He’s been dreading having to leave, seeing if he can push it back one more minute, two more minutes before he absolutely has to leave. You pout and if he could skip his shift he would. He kisses you, pulling you in for a kiss that’s so sensual and sweet- like sealing a promise for what’s to come when he returns.

“I’ll be thinking about you the whole time,” he admits, and you smile ear to ear because you know it’s true. You’ll be here, waiting for him, but he knows you’ll probably be asleep. That’s alright, he’s got his own key now. His shift will end at 2 or 3 in the morning, and he’ll come right back to you- feeling completely drained.

Someone tried to give him a hard time, arguing or trying to fight for god knows what reason. It doesn’t matter, he’ll forget all about it the second he’s able to just walk back up to your apartment. He knows the door creeks, so he does his best to open it slowly not to wake you. He’ll find you asleep on the couch, movie or show playing on the tv- he can tell you tried to wait up for him. He’ll shrug off his jacket and leave it on one of your kitchen chairs before joining you back on the couch. He’ll lay down behind you, and pull you close against his chest. He moves the blanket to cover the two of you, and he’ll drift off to the sound of the TV.

LOVE IT

HEARTBREAK: LIVE | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (SMAU) | Ex!BF x Radio Host!Female Reader

Summary — After a mysterious breakup with the university's golden couple, you went incognito. However, when your best friends drags you back into a spotlight, hosting a radio talk show, you find yourself opening up again. This time, with whole world listening (including Rafe).

Dedication — @ghostofwriting for the inspiration of your smau <3

Navigation — Part One | Part Two |

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

taglist @softspiderling @starkeyvhs @kisstaya @rivaiken @saiaise @mimibaby01 @stargirlinterludefr @itneverendshere @platinumblondeedition

Bunny (P6)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: this is pretty intense cause shit has offically started to go down guys. Also Bunny and Rafe- they just need to get together already and JJ and Bunny- they need to stop this malarkey cause it's making me upset :( (the plot thickens...)

warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs and drug dealing, strip club, naked women, lap dance, pole dancing, abusive father, harassment (implied assault)

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6)

The bass of the club pulsed through the air, a steady thrum that matched the energy of the bodies moving under the neon lights. The haze of perfume and liquor, the blurred mix of men throwing cash they barely thought about, she felt she could slip into a rhythm and let herself forget for a few hours. But tonight, something felt... off. Not in a bad way, just different.

Rafe wasn’t here.

She hadn't seen him walk through the door, hadn’t caught his sharp blue eyes tracking her every move, hadn’t felt the weight of his presence pressing into her skin like it usually did. It was strange- unsettling even. Because for as much as she hated the way he always inserted himself into her space, she’d grown used to it. 

Expectant of it.

She scanned the room, gaze flicking over the usual faces. The regulars. The passing truckers and tourists. The men who came in throwing money around like they owned the world. But no Rafe. No smug smirk from across the room, no lazy, arrogant drawl calling her name just to piss her off.

Good. 

It was good. 

Right?

She exhaled, shaking the thought from her head as she pressed her body up against the cool metal of the pole, swaying her hips slowly from side to side. Maybe he finally got bored. Maybe he’d found someone else to bother. That would be a win for her- but she couldn't deny she found it weird, the past few days his absence had been more than noticeable. The rest of the night passed with a familiar ease. She danced, she laughed, she put on the show she always did, let greedy hands slip bills into the waistband of her outfit, letting the bass shake the floor beneath her feet until it was time to slip away. She collected her cash, shoving the crumpled bills into a paper bag like always, folding it up before stuffing it into her duffle. A pair of heels landed on top, and she yanked a hoodie over her head, the fabric swallowing her whole as she tried to disappear into herself. As she slung the bag over her shoulder and started toward the back exit, Naomi- still wearing her dainty Bambi necklace- caught sight of her from the dressing room mirror, one perfectly arched brow raising as she turned on the stool.

“Going already?”

Naomi asked, voice smooth with curiosity. Y/N sighed, adjusting the strap of her bag.

“Yeah, I’ve got my fill for the night.”

Naomi hummed knowingly, leaning an elbow against the vanity as she lazily twirled a mascara wand between her fingers.

“Mmm. Guess I can’t blame you.”

Y/N forced a small smile, already shifting her weight toward the door, but Naomi wasn’t done. She mused, the teasing in her voice unmistakable.

“Haven’t seen your little boy toy around recently...”

“He’s not my anything.”

Y/N’s shoulders tensed, and she turned just enough to give the girl a look. Naomi just smirked, eyes glinting under the warm glow of the mirror lights.

“With the amount of cash he throws at you? Girl, I’d lock in for life.”

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she pushed the door of the changing rooms open, “Well, he’s all yours.”

Naomi rolled her eyes playfully, but there was warmth in her gaze as she pushed off the stool and made her way over. She pulled Y/N into a soft goodbye hug, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before cupping her face with manicured fingers.

“You okay?”

She asked, voice quieter now, like she could sense something wasn’t sitting right. Y/N exhaled, the weight of the night settling deep in her bones.

“I’m just tired Omi.”

“Go get some sleep babe.”

Naomi gave her a small, knowing smile, her thumb brushing over Y/N’s cheek lightly. Y/N returned the smile, albeit faint, before pulling away with a cheeky glint in her tired eyes.

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do...”

“-Oh who is you—get outta here.”

Naomi scoffed, rolling her eyes. She swatted Y/N’s ass playfully as she walked out, earning a quiet laugh from her friend before the door swung shut behind her. And just like that, she was back in the night air, exhaling into the quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door creaked open, and the dim glow of the kitchen light was the first thing Y/N noticed as she stepped inside. The smell of food hit her nose, and when she looked up, there was JJ, standing in the kitchen, biting into a sandwich, his jaw clenching as he chewed. His eyes flicked up to her, but he didn’t say anything at first. Just watched as she walked in like she was a stranger in her own home. She greeted, voice tentative.

“Hey”

JJ hummed in response, barely pausing his chewing as he shoved another bite in his mouth. She ignored the tension sitting thick in the air and walked past him, heading straight to her room. She dumped her duffle bag onto the bed before peeking into their dad’s room. The bed was unmade, but the room was empty, and that made her feel just a little lighter. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with him tonight. She padded back into the kitchen, her fingers already tugging at the fridge door handle, but the second she opened it, disappointment settled deep in her stomach.

Almost empty.

Of course it was.

A slow exhale left her lips, and she rubbed a tired hand over her face. She was going to have to go food shopping- again. For now, she just grabbed a bottle of water, shutting the fridge with a quiet sigh. She pulled out a chair opposite him, the legs scraping against the worn kitchen floor as she sat down. JJ was now sitting at the table, his sandwich halfway gone, eyes flicking up to her before focusing back on his food. Y/N rested her elbows on the table, rolling the cool bottle of water between her palms. “So…” she started, trying to keep things light, normal.

“What have you been up to?”

JJ barely looked up, “Not much.”

Her lips pressed together at his flat tone, “Saw Kie lately?”

“Yeah.”

She took a slow sip of her water, studying him, “How are JB and Sarah?”

JJ just shrugged.

She exhaled quietly, tapping her fingers against the bottle. He was obviously annoyed with her- she could feel it in the way his words were clipped, how he wasn’t even really looking at her. And it wasn’t fair. He didn’t get it. Didn’t get why she was always out, why she barely came home, why she was constantly exhausted. She was doing this for him. For both of them.

It stung.

“What’s wrong, huh?”

Y/N finally asked her voice soft, tilting her head as she studied him. JJ just rolled his eyes, pushing back from the table. He grabbed his empty plate, dumping it into the sink with a clatter before turning away from her. She watched as he made his way toward his room, not saying a word, not even sparing her a glance.

“Don’t walk away when I’m speaking to you JJ”

She called after him, her voice sharper now. He stopped in his tracks, turning just enough to shoot her an unimpressed look.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you my mom now, or—”

“Excuse me?” she cut in, her jaw clenching, “Whats with the fucking attitude- whats got into you?”

“What’s got into me? What’s got into me?”

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he ran a frustrated hand through his messy blonde hair. She just stared at him, arms crossing over her chest, brows furrowing in confusion. He was mad- really mad- but she didn’t understand why. She wondered if her missing the bonfire last week really that serious? JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“I literally never see you, Y/N. I never see you.”

His words hit her harder than she expected. She opened her mouth, but he didn’t even give her the chance to respond before he kept going, voice laced with frustration.

“You weren’t at the bonfire last week. You weren’t home when I got back from the chateu the other night. You weren’t here this morning. Jesus, I don’t even know the last time we actually sat and talked- like normal siblings do?”

His voice wavered slightly at the end, but he masked it with another shake of his head and roll of his eyes. Y/N bit at the skin on the inside of her hceek sightly before sighing out,

“J, I know... I’m sorry, okay? It’s not my fault I’ve just been busy- I’m working, I’m doing—”

“Yeah-” he cut in, crossing his arms, “I know. You’re always fucking working.”

She felt her chest tighten, guilt creeping up her spine. She was doing this for him- she'd always say that to herself when she'd dread to get out of bed in the worning, when she'd have to force herself to drive to the club afer her shift with Sofia. To keep To make sure he had food, a roof over his head. And yet, he was still looking at her like she had let him down. JJ let out a bitter laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Whatever. Always an excuse with you.”

His words made her stomach twist.

“Acting like you’re doing something so fucking noble”

His eyes were cold and Y/N’s body went rigid. She could take a lot of shit, but not this. Not from him. Not after she'd been working her ass off for the past few months. Her fists clenched at her sides, her breath coming out a little uneven now. “You think this is a fucking excuse?” Her voice rose, the frustration bubbling over.

“You think I like being out all the time? You think I don’t wanna be home?”

“Yeah well you're never fucking around-”

“-Well, who do you think fucking pays for everything, huh?”

She snapped out voice loud and shaking. “Who pays for you? For the house? For the food in the fridge- oh, wait- there isn’t any, because I haven’t even had time to go shopping and no one else in this house fucking will! Who pays for the electricity? Who gives you money for gas so you can use that dumb ass bike out front? Who pays for you and all the Pogues when you go out? Who does all that- cause it’s not you oand it's definitely not dad”

JJ just stared at her, saying nothing.

The silence between them was thick, suffocating and Y/N was breathing heavily now, her entire body trembling from the outburst. Her chest rose and fell, emotions crashing over her like a wave she couldn’t escape from.

“Jesus”

She mumbled to herself hands coming up to cover her face angrily as she turned away from the boy trying to keep her composure, she could feel the lump rising in the back of her throat. When she looked up to the blonde boy in front of her,

He was just standing there, frozen simply looking at her.

Y/N’s eyes closed for a moment looking away once more, her hand instinctively running over her brow in an attempt to calm herself, but the anger and frustration were still boiling inside her. She was so fucking tired- tired of fighting, tired of being the one holding everything together but still being seen as a shitty sister. Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled slowly, trying to regain some sense of control over herself. But before she could collect her thoughts, the door creaked open.

Luke stumbled in, smelling of alcohol and smoke, his breath heavy with the stench of both. He was swaying slightly, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from his hand. His bloodshot eyes fixed on them, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Little family meeting and I wasn’t invited?"

He slurred, the words dripping with disdain. Y/N’s stomach churned. She didn’t have the strength for this. Not tonight. Not after she'd literally just ripped her brother to shreds. JJ was the first to react, his voice low,

"Dad just go to bed"

His voice a little weary as he spoke to the man. Luke’s bloodshot eyes flickered to JJ, and he sneered unimpressed, 

"Little hero trying to save the day huh?" 

His voice was thick with slurred sarcasm. Y/N pressed her nails harshly into her palms trying to shake off the dizziness that seemed to cloud her mind. She muttered, half to herself, but her voice was tight with frustration.

"It's nothing, just leave i-" 

"-I need some money" 

Luke’s attention shifted to her, his stance unsteady but focused as he spoke out, his voice dripping with entitlement. Y/N let out a quiet sigh, she knew where this was going, and she didn’t have the patience for it. She didn’t want to deal with this, but Luke was stumbling closer, relentless. As if on instinct JJ stepped forward, his body tensing as he saw what was coming. 

"Dad, stop" 

He spoke out firmly, trying to block Luke's path. But Luke shoved past him, shoulder bumping into the boys completely ignoring JJ’s warning, his face now dangerously close to Y/N's. He leaned in, his breath hot against her face. 

"C’mon, I know you got some," he sneered, "Don’t be selfish. Just give it to me."

"I don’t have any"

She spat, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue, but she was desperate for him to leave her alone, to leave them alone. Y/N’s teeth ground together as she watched his face, his eyes narrowing slightly unimpressed with her tone. Her chest tightened. Before she could react Luke’s hand shot out, grabbing her face roughly as she let out a small whimper, as he forced her to look at him, her own hand flying up to grip his wrist trying to pry him off her face.

"Don’t fucking lie to me" 

He growled, his grip tightening. JJ’s eyes flashed with concern, and he surged forward, shoving Luke back with a force that made the older man stumble. But Luke wasn’t backing down- he never had. He shoved JJ back, hard, the blonde boy loosing balance and harhsly hitting his back against the kitchen counter. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight, the sick feeling in her stomach instantly rising asshe saw JJ having to steady himself against the cold tiles of the counter.

"Don't interrupt when the adults are talking!" 

Luke barked, his voice filled with nothing but venom. Y/N felt a wave of panic rise in her chest now as the older man stumbled towards her brother once more, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She couldn't let this escalate.

"Stop!"

She called out, the man whipping around at the sound of her voice. Her hands moved frantically to her pockets, pulling out the two crumpled fifty dollar bills she’d tucked away earlier before she'd left the club. Her fingers fumbled, shaking as she shoved it into Luke’s hand.

"Just—just leave him alone okay?"

She muttered through gritted teeth. "Take it and go."

Luke’s eyes glinted with satisfaction as he grabbed the money, he turned on his heel as he made his way back through the front door, the wood slamming loudly on its hinges making the walls of the house shake. Her eye drifted over to her brother, whose eys were already on her, taking in teh reddend skin around her jaw. Y/N let out a small sigh, throat feeling tight as she turned on her heel, moving toward her bedroom. JJ called after her, his voice pleading.

"Y/N—"

"Let it go Jay"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N clocked out of her shift at the country club, the weight of another long day settling heavily on her shoulders as she slipped back into the driver seat of her car. Her mind raced- she’d just gotten off a long shift here, and the tension with JJ had been thick lately- after their argument the other day everything felt strained. She slipped her phone out of her bag the familiar hum vibrating in her hand.

Tommy (3)

She stared at the message for a few moments, biting her lip, the screen lighting up her face in the dim light of the parking lot.

Tommy  :  Club’s gonna be real busy 

Tommy  :  Need more girls than usual you free? 

Tommy  :  Pay's double.

The offer was tempting- the money would make a difference. She remembers the last time she got a message like this, she earned almost five hundred dollars for only two hours. She needed an escape- it wasn't like she was going to go home anyways. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment longer, then she let out a small breath, shutting her eyes for a brief second as if trying to push off all the weight off her chest. She placed the phone down and turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life beneath her. The sound filled the car, drowning out the noise in her head for just a moment. As she backed out of the parking lot and onto the quiet streets, her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the familiar road ahead almost a comfort in its predictability.

The strip club was alive with the hum of chatter, clinking glasses, and bass-heavy music filling the air. The buzzing atmosphere was almost suffocating- Y/N navigated through the crowd, feeling that familiar feeling as she made her way toward the changing room. As she stepped through the door, the smell of perfume, hairspray, and a faint hint of alcohol hit her. The room was already packed with girls, some adjusting their outfits, others touching up their makeup. Naomi was perched on a bench in front of the mirror, her fingers running through her hair.

“Heyyyy girlfriend”

Y/N smiled at her greeting, slipping off her jacket and tossing it on the chair next to Naomi. The girl glanced up at her again, her eyes flickering with curiosity. “Busy night,” she said, her voice low,

“You’re not the only one who got the double-pay offer. Everyone’s here.”

Y/N gave a half-nod, her mind still processing the chaotic energy in the room. “What’s going on tonight?” she asked, trying to ignore the tension rising in her chest. She didn’t want to get caught up in the buzz she just wanted a good payout, but she had to ask. Naomi didn’t miss a beat.

“Your little boy toy-” she said with a knowing smile, a hint of a tease in her voice. “-and his friend are selling tonight. Big stuff, apparently.”

The mention of Rafe made Y/N freeze for a split second. It was subtle, but Naomi caught the shift in her posture—the way her shoulders tensed, the brief flicker of something in her eyes. She hadn’t seen him in days, and the thought of him brought a tightness to her chest- one she coudlnt explain. Y/N licked her lips, giving a slow nod. She didn’t trust herself to say anything.

There were too many feelings tangled up with his name.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled her heels out of her bag. The last thing she needed tonight was to deal with whatever Rafe had going in, yet she knew, deep down, she couldn’t avoid him forever. The music thudded louder as they walked out onto the main floor of the club. Y/N could feel every pair of eyes on her, the weight of their stares almost tangible as she moved through the crowd. She was wearing the tiniest skirt she could find, fishnets hugging her legs tightly, and a little tie top that showed just enough to catch anyone’s attention. That’s when they bumped into Tommy, who was leaning against a pillar near a busy booth. He looked up, a grin spreading across his face when he saw them.

“Just who I’ve been looking for,” he said, his voice laced with the usual business-like tone that masked the eagerness in his eyes.

“Ladies, I need you two for a duet in the far left booth.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped as she glanced over, recognizing that booth as the one Rafe and Barry usually occupied when they were selling. It was one of the higher-paying spots. Naomi didn’t seem to notice, or care. She gave Y/N a quick look, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she nudged her playfully with her shoulder.

“You better shake your ass on me like your life depends on it”

Naomi said, her voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. Y/N let out ana mused hum and although thought of being in Rafe’s vicinity again made her somewhat nervous, she quickly pushed the feeling down. She didn’t have time to second-guess herself. She couldn’t afford to. Not with this much money on the line anyways.

“Trust me, I will”

She said back, her voice steady, though there was a tightness in her chest that she couldn’t ignore. They made their way toward the booth, and with every step, Y/N could feel her pulse quicken, the familiar sense of tension rising in her. It wasn’t just the job. It was him. When they got closer to the booth, Naomi didn’t waste a second. She immediately slid onto Barry’s lap, her movements smooth and confident. Her hands traced down his chest as she leaned in close, her voice low,

"Hey, I’m Bambi"

"Shi, Bambi huh?"

Barry’s grin stretched wider as he raised an eyebrow. He laughed, clearly impressed. His hands were already reaching for the waistband of her panties, slipping cash into the band as she giggled, a carefree sound escaping her lips. Meanwhile, Y/N stood there, watching them for a moment, her heart pounding. The energy was thick, the music pulsing with a new rhythm that seemed to spread through her veins.

But as the beat dropped, her gaze shifted to Rafe.

He was sprawled back on the booth, leaning against the backrest, his legs spread wide and his arms casually crossed, biceps straining against the material. His posture was so damn confident, like he owned the place. His eyes flicked up toward her, and for a second and she froze, not sure how to approach him. The past few days of silence between them hung in the air like a thick fog. But just as quickly as the hesitation struck, she pushed it away. Instead of walking over to him, Y/N turned toward the pole at the centre of the booth, where the soft glow of the lights hit her skin just right. A new song started, the beat smooth and seductive, and she felt the music pull her into its rhythm. She slipped toward it, her fingers brushing against the cool metal as she took a deep breath. The familiar motion of her body flowing with the music was comforting, even if her nerves were still buzzing.

Her body swayed to the rhythm, her movements smooth and fluid as she gripped the pole. Her hips swivelled, hands trailing over her body in the same hypnotic rhythm. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Rafe- his gaze fixed on her, his eyes following her every move, a smirk tugging at his lips and she couldn’t help but feel the heat of his stare, the intensity in it that seemed to burn straight through her. His head tilted slightly, his lips parting as he watched her, as if the world had stopped just for him to witness this. His presence was heavy, and it made her pulse quicken in ways she wasn’t sure she could control.

But then Bambi was there, slipping up beside her, her body just as fluid and confident. She didn’t need words, just the familiar energy they often shared up on the stage. They moved together like they had done this a thousand times before- two bodies locked in perfect sync. Naomi’s hands slid up Y/N’s waist from behind, pulling her closer, their bodies grinding against each other in a perfect duet. Y/N's heart raced as Naomi’s lips brushed against her ear, her breath warm against her skin. They moved together, hands all over each other, teasing, pulling, snapping straps against skin as though their bodies were made to fit together.

Bambi’s fingers trailed down the girl’s spine, as she turned her around both of them now facing eachother. Without hesitation Y/N ran her hands over the girls soft skin, lowering herself down her body before she dropped to her knees in front of the girl. Rafe perked up in his seat eyes glued to the two of them on the stage, yet his focused was set on one more than the other- solely on her. Bambi's hand ran over the top of Y/N's hair and in response the girl arched her back running her hands up from the girls glittering heels to her soft thighs looking up at her from where she knelt on the ground. Bambi let out a playful smile as the whistles from the crowd around them grew louder, a few guys tossing money in their direction, clearly more interested in the show than the drugs being sold.

Rafe’s eyes never left Y/N, he couldn't draw them away even if he wanted to. His teeth ground against eachother, his gaze heavy, fingers tapped on the edge of the booth. The music finally began to fade as the dance came to a close and bills flew past, landing on the floor around the girls. Naomi sent Y/N a kiss, her chest rising and falling with the adrenaline, before she pulled back, a playful wink thrown in her direction as she picked up a few of the fifty dollar bills.

"Thanks for paying for my rent this month"

Rafe had moved now, his back straight as he leaned forward, sitting at the edge of the booth, his posture tense. His eyes were still following the girl standing on the raised platform- but then a guy who had just bought some coke from Barry next to them caught his attention. He was fiddling with the small baggie in his hand, his eyes trailing up and down Y/N’s body with a lecherous grin on his face. He licked his lips, his eyes lingering on her for a beat too long, then he turned to Rafe, the smirk never leaving his face.

“How much for her?” he asked, his voice low but confident as he gestured over to Y/N,

“For a private session?”

As soon as the words left him lips Rafe's jaw clenched, a low scowl pulling at his features as he fixed his eyes on the guy. Without a second thought, he spat out in a cold and cutting tone,

“She’s not for sale.”

The words hit harsh and unforgiving, and Rafe didn’t even give the guy a chance to respond before he stood up and shoved past the man without a glance, his movement swift and purposeful as he made his way towards Y/N. She looked up to find Rafe standing next to her, his gaze running over her, sharp and unreadable. The scowl on his face had softened a little, but there was still something dark in his eyes, something she couldn't fully decipher.

She didn't want to anyways- didn't want to try and understand it... undertsand him

"I want a private session."

His words cut through the air like a knife, his voice low and dangerous. The girl's jaw clenched tighter at the words, an uneasy mixture of anger and something else bubbling beneath the surface. She couldn’t pinpoint it. She didn’t know what to feel anymore when it came to him, she didn’t know where she stood with him, and it made her stomach churn. Naomi overheard from behind her and, with a grin, snuck up close, chin resting lightly on Y/N’s shoulder.

"She’d love to do that for you, wouldn’t you, bunny?"

She teased, the playful tone almost mocking in its innocence. Y/N was still glaring at Rafe, not able to tear her eyes away from him, she didn’t even know how to navigate the mess he'd tangled her in, but this?

This wasn’t what she needed.

Private sessions weren;t anything new. She used to do them all the time, that was before Rafe supposedly banned her from doing so. Either way, it was the nature of the business, and she’d done her fair share. Yet with him- she wasn't sure she wanted to cross that line. But when Rafe spoke again, his offer surprised her, his voice cold as he cut through her thoughts:

"I’ll pay triple."

Naomi’s eyes widened at the offer, clearly taken aback by the amount of money Rafe was willing to throw around. Y/N’s irritation flared—triple? Seriously? She couldn’t even figure out if he was trying to piss her off or if he genuinely wanted a session with her, and that pissed her off even more. Pushing down her frustration, Y/N finally looked away from him, her expression hardening as she nodded stiffly.

"Fine."

Her voice was sharp, but she quickly turned away, heading toward the private rooms, the sound of her heels echoing on the floor as she walked. Rafe followed close behind her, his footsteps deliberate. When they reached the door, she stopped and turned to face him, her hand resting on the door handle. She glanced at him and with a flick of her wrist, she opened the door and gestured inside with a stiff movement.

“After you.”

Rafe didn’t move for a second, his gaze still intense, but eventually, he stepped inside. Y/N turned, taking the little sign by the door and flipping it, the outline of a woman visible now, signaling the start of the session. She moved inside with him, her heart pounding as she shut the door behind her, the heavy silence between them deafening. The bass from the music thumped through the walls of the private room, vibrating the air with its pulse as Y/N stepped in, the door clicking shut behind her. The dim lighting made the space feel smaller, more intimate, as she looked toward Rafe. He was already sitting in the middle of one of the big leather chairs, his posture wide, almost arrogantly so. His thighs spread a little, his eyes focused on her, hungry, predatory.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her cool, walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps. She didn’t show him the nerves that crept up her spine- no, she wasn’t going to let him see that. As she got closer, Rafe’s hand extended toward her, patting his lap. The simple gesture made her stomach flip in a way she refused to acknowledge. She hesitated for only a moment before straddling his lap, the heat between them palpable. His eyes locked onto hers as she settled in.

"I'm waiting"

A slow, deliberate roll of her hips immediately answered his demand. She could feel his breath hitch, his hands coming up to rub over her thighs, the touch warm and possessive. She braced her hands on his shoulders, the grip tight as she moved again, the rhythm of her body building with the pounding beat of the music. Rafe hummed under his breath, clearly satisfied. His hands slid up, teasing the skin of her inner thigh, fingertips brushing the edges of her skirt.

"Not seen you in a while Bunny"

He muttered, voice low and rich with something close to amusement as his head leaned back agaisnt the chair. Y/N smirked, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.

"Not long enough."

His lips curled into a smirk at that, but there was something deeper behind his eyes. As he spoke, his tone almost as if he was savouring the moment.

"Missed that bitchy attitude of yours"

Y/N’s gaze remained locked with his, her body swaying in time with the music, but her mind was elsewhere. Her fingers dug into his shoulders slightly, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way he pulled her in closer with every roll of her hips. She could feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of it settling on her skin causing it to prickle. It only fuelled her determination to make him feel something.

To make him sweat under the same intensity she felt.

His hand slid up her body, sliding over her hips, pausing at the soft skin of her waist before making its way to the centre of her top, fingers lingering by the bow of the material keeping her tits covered. Before she could react, his fingers curled around the soft cotton, tugging at the tie letting the material fall open in response to the action. Y/N bit her tongue, swallowing down her snarky comment, instead her hands came up to pull the top off- revealing the smallest bikini top she owned. It barely covered anything, the triangles of fabric just barely containing her tits. Rafe's eyes flicked down, his gaze darkening as he let out a hum, much deeper than the last. His thumb ran over the edge of the triangle shaped fabric, skimming along the soft swell of her breast.

His hands then slid lower to her hips, pulling her down just a little closer against him. His grip tightened, fingers pressing into her skin as he guided her movements, making sure she felt the full weight of his presence beneath her. He leaned in closer, the heat of his breath washing over her neck, sending a small shiver down her spine. She swallowed, the knot in her throat tightening as he whispered to her,

"Did you miss me, Bunny?"

Y/N’s breath caught, her pulse quickening at the sound of his voice- low, teasing, so incredibly close to her skin. Her body felt hot suddenly, like the room had sweltered into something far more intense. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, not with him, not with everything that had already passed between them. Her mind raced, and for a brief moment, she couldn't answer. She was caught off guard by the sudden surge of heat flooding her body. The question hung in the air like a weight, as if the answer would say more about her than she wanted it to. She cleared her throat, struggling to steady her pulse as his lips brushed just underneath her ear. The tension between them seemed to stretch, thickening with every passing second. She managed a tight, almost defensive response.

"No"

She said, her voice betraying her own uncertainty as she shifted slightly, the heat between them still uncomfortably intense. Rafe didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands tightened around her hips, pulling her closer again, forcing her to face him, to meet his gaze. There was something dangerous in his eyes- a challenge- but also something else, something far more complicated. He smirked, as though he knew exactly what was going on inside her head, leaning back slightly as he watched her, his gaze never leaving her face.

"I don’t believe you"

He said, his voice low, amusement dancing in his eyes. Y/N felt her stomach twist. She stopped her movements abruptly, the music shifting into a new beat that only seemed to heighten the tension between them and her breath seemed to be heavier now. She could feel the weight of his stare as his fingers trailed down to toy with the hem of her skirt, teasing her with every slight tug of the fabric. He tilted his head, his eyes still locked on her, as though he were reading her every move. He spoke casually, voice dripping with an almost confident sweetness.

"My offer still stands you know..."

"What?"

Y/N blinked, confusion flickering in her gaze. Rafe leaned in just a little, his lips curving into that familiar cocky grin.

"Come back to Tannyhill with me..."

He said, his voice quieter now, but still laced with that undeniable edge. Her stomach dropped, and she shook her head, already pushing herself off of him, feeling that familiar heat rise to her face.

"No"

She said firmly, her tone cold, her chest tight with irritation. Rafe wasn’t done, though. As she moved away from him, his hands shot out to grab her wrists, keeping her close to him and her hands had to come out to steady herself against his chest. His fingers wrapped around her skin like a vice, but not harsh—more like a silent ask for her attention, for her response. He coaxed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"C'mon Y/N- any price you give me"

"No," she repeated, her jaw clenched, her voice rising,

"No- what do you even- no- Rafe just, just stop"

But he wasn’t letting it go even though she was done. She pulled away from him, her chest tight as she turned toward the door. Rafe’s voice followed her as she walked.

"You know I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want"

He said, the words hanging in the air between them. Y/N froze, her hand resting on the door handle. She turned around, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah? Well, that makes it so much better, doesn’t it?"

She shot back, her voice thick with bitter irony. Rafe didn’t move, didn’t flinch. He only leaned back against the booth with a slight shrug. "Well," he said slowly, his tone a little too calm,

"I’m not gonna change my mind."

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her hands tightening around the handle. She shot him one last, heated glance before responding, her voice sharp and firm.

"Yeah? Well, neither will I"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walked out of the club, her trainers scuffing against the pavement in the quiet night air, each step louder than the last. The neon lights from the strip club still flickered in the distance, but she was done. She had clocked out early, barely able to keep herself together after that confrontation with Rafe. Her blood was boiling, and her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles ached. She could still feel the heat of his touch, the way his words had wormed their way under her skin.

He had that effect on her- always had.

Y/N chewed on the thought as she crossed the parking lot, heading for her car. It was complicated. She hated what he made her feel. He knew exactly how to push her buttons, how to get under her skin, and it made her want to scream. Yet, at the same time, part of her didn’t want to walk away, even though her stomach twisted at the thought of him. She hated that she couldn’t escape the pull he had on her. He was everything she didn’t want. And still, there she was, thinking about him when she could be focusing on anything else. Her thoughts were swirling as she made her way to her car, trying to push away the lingering feeling of his presence. She’d never been so conflicted in her life. She slid her bag into the trunk of the car, the weight of the night still pressing down on her, and just as she was about to shut the boot, a voice interrupted her.

"Hey! Hey, excuse me!"

She paused and looked up, her jaw tightening as she saw a guy walking toward her. He was dressed well, too well for someone she'd expect to see around here, and there was something about the way his pupils were blown wide that immediately caught her attention. "Um, yeah?" she responded, clearly annoyed, her arms folding across her chest.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh uh, you're Bunny, right?"

The guy seemed a little flustered as he stopped in front of her, running a hand through his hair, a nervous energy radiating off him. Y/N let out a small sigh, rolling her eyes to herself, her fingers gripping the edge of the trunk.

"Look, I’m not working anymore..."

The guy blinked, quickly recovering, "Oh—oh right. Well, will you be back tonight or…?"

"No, I'm done for the night"

She replied curtly, closing the trunk with a firm click. She was done with the whole night, with the club, and especially with thinking about Rafe. "Right, right," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to find his words.

"I saw you inside, and… I just wanted to say you were..."

"I was…?"

She trailed off, her patience already wearing thin. Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, not really in the mood for small talk. He spoke, his voice a little too eager, his words almost slurring slightly as if he'd had a few too many drinks.

"...you were really good"

"Thanks"

She muttered, already turning to head for her driver's door, hoping he'd take the hint. But no, he was still following her, his steps quickening as he tried to keep up. "You see," he continued,

"I was inside, and I was talking to that guy and I was going to ask you for a priv—"

"-Look, this is really nice of you and all, but I really just wanna get home."

She cut him off before he could finish, her tone sharp. The guy stopped, his face falling slightly as he realized she wasn’t interested. He gave a small nod, raising his hands a little. But he didn't move. Y/N turned to face the guy again as he didn’t back off. He was still standing a few steps away, an uncomfortable eagerness in his stance.

"I'll pay you well"

He said, trying to sound persuasive, his voice a little more insistent. She scoffed, shaking her head. Her voice was thick with disbelief, the last thread of patience she had snapping.

"Are you for real right now?"

"Come on, I’ll pay you double."

He stepped a little closer, his eyes scanning her like and Y/N’s jaw tightened, her fingers gripping the handle of the car door as she stood between the two cars taking a step back, trying to put distance between them.

"Just back off man"

But he didn’t listen and instead took another step forward, clearly ignoring every signal she was giving him, and she felt the anger building in her chest.

"I fucking said, back up!"

She snapped, her voice cold and sharp. The guy hesitated for just a second, but then his eyes hardened, the uncomfortable edge of desperation turning into something intimidating. 

He clearly wasn’t backing off

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤshield ! reader ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤpart one !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤBITTER REUNIONS.

summary soldier boy's first stop in his grand return is to collect his suit and his shield, only to find out just how different & bittersweet things have become in his absenceㅤㅤㅤwarnings feminine rage, discussions of trauma, hurt/hurt because there's no comfortㅤㅤㅤword count 2.5k

ㅤㅤㅤTHE FLATSCREEN TELEVISION SCREEN CRACKLES IN THE LEGEND'S LIVING ROOM SPACE. on it, a basketball game, two teams that you've never given a shit about, but it's what the legend likes to watch, and so you sit on the worn-out couch and do what you've always done: endure other people's shit, and bite the hand that feeds you.

you would think by now that he knows you better than this. that you pick a fight every single time he flips through the channels with the device he won't tell you the name of, lest you figure out how to access the internet and learn how to use it. that you have smashed three of his televisions in your time with him.

frederick vought warned the legend before he'd handed you over. his words were slurred, tired, defeated — but they were clear enough to still be used against you, repeated by many who encountered you.

she is a cruel one, that shield i've reconstructed.

cruel, indeed.

"i do not want to watch," you shout across the empty space, making a furious reach across the sofa to snatch the television stick off of the other side's abandoned cushion. the bell to the door rang ten minutes earlier, and the old man had yet to return.

you glare at the screen, as if you could will it to silence with nothing but your mind. impossible, of course; at least, you hadn't been successful yet. you hated the buzz of high pitched chatter in the televised crowd, the way it crawled into the crevices of your mind through the passages of your ears and nested.

a furious growl leaves your lips, and you rise to your feet, steps away from the bright screen. you are cruel, and everyone thinks so, but you have kindness tucked away in your rage, sometimes. the score is 120-88. you take note of it, shoving the numbers into your pocket, before you slam the remote into the screen.

the shards of glass that embed into your hand don't hurt. your lips twist into an irritated scowl at the sight of them, plucking out each piece and littering it on the hardwood floor. the remote is in pieces, too, crushed in the tight squeeze of your hand.

you release your grip, letting each piece crumble to the ground with loud thumps. fury crackles through you, acid burning in your bloodstream. it is unlike the man you've been stuck with to abandon you to your own devices for so long. it is also unlike him to force you to watch something you do not like in his absences.

you liked jersey shore, and the real housewives. you liked seeing girls like you get to live lives you'd never get to. it was therapeutic and gutwrenching all at once, and that only added to the fuel of your anger, crackling inside of you.

the walk you take down the lengthy hallway into the part of his home that you were strictly forbidden from was punctuated by the echo of your stomping feet. these were the parts of the house that the legend kept locked. the front entrance, the actual living room, and the man's own bedroom. all places that he deemed his, and all places with quick access to the public, meaning exits.

it was not a laboratory. but it was not a home, either.

your fist slams on the wood of the door, right into the indent of it that you'd already created. this was not the first time that you'd broken down this door. it wouldn't be the last, with how many secrets he kept locked away from you, and how much of the world you were forbidden to see.

"open the door, legend, or i'm going to pummel your fucking skull—"

"enough of that." his voice is muffled when it cuts through your threats, close enough that he sounds like he is right on the other side of the wood. you slam your fist into it again, hard enough for the wood to splinter in the center of your indentation. "enough, indy. i'm comin' back."

"you left the fucking game on." you throw your hand backwards in gesture, even though he can't see it. that was easy enough to fix. you punch through the splintered wood, creating a fist shaped hole to the other side. "you know i hate watching men play games."

the legend is used to your antics by now, and so he doesn't flinch at the break. you see enough of his face to note the downward scowl, and the disappointment behind his dark glasses. "you don't much like the women playing them, either."

"because it is not fun." didn't he understand by now? you were a girl locked away, punished for being created and what you were shaped into. you did not get fun of your own, so you needed some kind of outlet to drown yourself into. it was no wonder that you were thought of as a monster. your only glimpses of the sunny skies were in the gaps of the legend's barred off windows. titanium, so it was not impossible for you to bend them, but it was not an easy feat.

he sighs through his nose, smoke curling around his face from the cigar in his fingers. "two minutes, indy." he holds up two fingers, as if he thought you could not fucking count or comprehend how long two minutes was. "that's all i need."

"who the fuck is in there?" another voice asks, deep and rough and familiar. so familiar. forty years was enough time to age someone — you knew this from how the legend looks now, compared to when he'd first had to take you in — and yet...

the legend's eyes dart over to the source of the voice at the same time as yours do. recognition comes in the form of a racing heartbeat. it builds, and crescendos, and suddenly you are shaking as you beat on the door again. "whoa, whoa, whoa—"

each time he got the door redone stronger. soon enough, he'd have a door made of titanium guarding his proper guests from the rest of his house, and from you.

no one could know about you, not when you were the makings of a sick imagination burrowed in an intelligent man's head.

that did not mean you didn't try. it was such a lonely life, locked away in a penthouse with a man that grew closer and closer to dying with each passing year, and no one knowing anything of what you'd become.

the anger flares, flames licking at the electric sparks in your veins. the door crumbles with one harsher hit, and you're standing in the space you're kept from. you've been here before, never permitted past this doorway, always whisked away before you can get a breath of fresh air.

"hi, sweetheart," soldier boy says, one corner of his mouth curled high in an arrogant smile. bold of him to still carry the same confidence he did back when you knew him, when now, he was in nothing but sweatpants and a zip-up jacket almost too small for his frame. his green eyes stay on you as he says over your shoulder, "she's young. can you even fuckin' keep up with her?"

your eyes flare. it's two steps to be in front of him, and the third is just for good measure, when you clock him in the chin. his head snaps backwards, surprise making him stumble backwards a step.

soldier boy rubs at the skin of his jaw, irritation as bright as your anger staring back at you. you know the calm he wears in his expression. it barely conceals a storm, brewing beneath the surface. you know it because you'd often been the weapon he chose in these moods of his. you know it because you adopted that ire yourself.

"that's enough." the legend steps over the broken pieces of his door, grimacing at the splinters littering the ground. "indy, enough."

you glance over your shoulder to eye the man's expression, trying to determine what he was feeling by look alone. he was not capable of hurting you, nothing was, but he knew how to weaponize words when you upset him, all of which only steeled your skin further.

there is not enough damage in the world you can inflict onto soldier boy to make up for the things he did with you. bashed skulls, took bullets, burnt her steel until she glowed vibrant orange. you expected him to be dead. you wanted him to have been dead, if only so you'd be spared from this moment. but you never got what you wanted. no jersey shore, no fresh air, and no freedom from soldier boy.

you raise your arm to deck him again, but his fingers close around your wrist tightly, tugging it harshly back down. his smirk says everything you need to know about how much he knows. he does not know that you've learned all of his weaknesses, and that he often left himself vulnerable in times when he thought he had the upperhand.

you yank him toward you in the same moment as you ream your knee straight into his cock.

soldier boy stutters on a groan, releasing his grip on you like you’d burnt him. you don’t relish in his pain, or the surprise that you could hurt him. it’s not enough.

the legend gives you the same disappointed look you’re used to getting from him, his head shaking in disapproval. “i locked the door for a reason.”

“you always say this.” you turn on your heel, jamming your finger into the center of his chest. you missed the days when he cowered under your anger and attitude, now it only seemed to exhaust him. “you always lock the door for a reason, and then it is just grace. you do not even let me see grace.”

“and look what happened the time you decided to break the rules.” the legend nods behind you, toward the man you do not turn to look at again. his footsteps are heavy as they approach. “this is what i keep you away from. the possibility of this.”

the urge to break every bone on the older man’s face is almost enough to overtake any rational thinking inside of you. he must see it, because he shakes his head again. “stand down.”

“where’s my suit?” soldier boy asks from behind you, and you still in place. he’s too close. every instinct of fight clicks into gear, the safety off as the bullets load up.

the legend nods down the hallway, in the direction of your space. you had so little that you could call your own. the bigger of the guest bedrooms was yours, shared only in the terms of the collectibles he kept in the expansive closet.

you knew soldier boy’s suit was in there. you could smell the tobacco and the whiskey from it, sometimes, from the safety of your bed. you sometimes could catch a whiff of cologne, on days where you let go of the mask that you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. when you wished upon a star outside of your barred windows that just one person would find you again.

“you cannot go in there.” you are already starting down the hallway, eager to reach your room before any of them could.

all of your fury was gone. stand down was an order. a kill switch programmed into you to bury all of the tension that often broke free of your restraints. it was not safe, vought once said to you when you were a child, to have a girl who can’t break without a few weaknesses. a few. some of which you didn’t even know, but your mind did.

there wasn’t any electricity in your veins anymore, but there was bleeding desperation. no, they could not invade your space. it defeated the purpose of having it. it would force the legend to open the rooms he locked away from you, too, and you knew he wouldn’t ever. if you granted either of these men an inch, they’d take a mile, and crush you in the process.

“he needs his suit, indy.”

your nose twitches, fighting against the command still ringing in your head. you grit your teeth, jaw clenched tightly. “he needs nothing.”

“who the fuck is this?” soldier boy asks again, and he’s relentless in his pursuit now, coming for your space with the authority of a man who has never been told no in his life. “get out of the way, sweetheart, or you won’t like how this blows up in your face.”

he had hurt you before. you were not human then, but you remembered all of the aches of it. you knew that soldier boy did not goad before he hurt you, or make bold-faced threats. he was lying.

you tilt your chin up, holding the eye contact. he was an unkind man, cruel in every crevice — but so were you, weren’t you? how evil it was to see yourself reflected in a man you hated, who you wanted to break into pieces and burn so all of the tears you shed fizzled away with him. “you will not like what you see.”

soldier boy cocks an eyebrow. “y’think i’m gonna hold it over your head if you’ve got a pair of panties left out?”

you step back into your room, all clean and panty free, and wait for him to take the step to follow you before you slam the door against his nose. the door rattles in the frame. soldier boy, on the other side, grunts in surprise, before he kicks at the hinges.

“that is enough!” the legend’s voice rips through the expansive space of his penthouse, his cane clicking across the floor. “i am not losing two fucking doors to this childish shit.”

you’ve moved, now. you can’t prevent soldier boy from busting down your door, but you can prevent them from fully infiltrating your bedroom. you go into the closet, to the deeper parts lined with memorabilia that you tried to ignore every time you were in here, and snatch the army green suit off of the hanger.

your eyes catch on the shield, hung up on the back wall. useless now. all of its indestructibility existed within you now, making it nothing but a heavy disc of metal.

tucking it under one arm, you hurry back to your bedroom, the arguing male voices outside getting aggravated enough that you know the door is about to crumble.

you knew soldier boy. you knew he could not help but exert some sort of dominance, if he could, to feel more in control. but you would not be in there when he came in and saw the display left on your bed.

instead, you tucked away in your closet, closing your eyes to try and find any sort of solace in the solitude. as always, it did nothing but squeeze tight around you, trapping you in a cage of your own making.

you can hear the exact moment your door is kicked down, along with the moment that soldier boy sees his things laid out for him. his suit, unwrinkled and unmarred. his physical shield, dented and decimated and as light as a kitchen plate.

and his real shield, hiding away from the reality that your nightmares always seemed to catch up to you.

notes. believe it or not i did not start this with the idea that indy was going to be so rapunzel. but it makes sense </3 there's a lot of lore i'm going to slowly incorporate that is hinted at in here / spawned from this so <3 perfect starting point! cannot WAIT for the boys^tm to meet this lil thing. hope u guys love her like i do my lil evil princess !!!

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @jensenacklesballsack @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra @h8aaz

Bunny (P5)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: its been tough day today y'all #Ihateexams (projecting in this chpt idk if you can tell BAHAHA). Also I'm sorry for the late update 😬. My poor girl y/n idk if things can get any worse than this tbh..? (or can they....)

warnings: smoking, weed, drinking, a strip club, naked women, harassment, mention of sex, crying, aggressive behaviour (shoving/shouting), mentions of domestic abuse.

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5)

Y/N stood at the sink, scrubbing at a plate with slow, methodical circles. The warm water ran over her hands, the sound of it filling the quiet kitchen. It was almost unsettling... the quiet. Usually, the house was filled with slurred shouting, breaking bottles, slamming drawers or the heavy silence of a man passed out on the couch. But today?

Today, Luke was standing right next to her, drying the dishes.

Just a towel in his hands, stacking plates in uneven piles as she placed them onto the drying rack. It wasn’t much- but it was sober. He was sober. Maybe a little hungover, his face drawn into a small tired frown, but he wasn’t slurring his words, wasn’t swaying on his feet. That alone made her stomach twist.

“You been out a lot lately,” 

“I’ve been working.”

Luke commented, voice rough from sleep or whiskey- probably both she couldn't differentiate between the two anymore. Y/N hummed, placing another plate on the drying rack. He let out a low exhale, rubbing the towel over a glass. 

“That’s good… keeping busy.” 

A pause. 

“JJ doin’ alright?”

Her hands faltered just slightly before she continued clearing her throat, “Yeah. He’s- good.”

Luke nodded, setting the glass down with a quiet clink, running a hand over his face. It was such a normal thing, a simple chore, standing here washing dishes with her dad. It should’ve been a small moment like it was for so many other people, something forgettable, something easy. She could feel the way her chest ached, feel the way she wanted to hold onto this moment, just for a little while- mind floating back to when she was younger and he’d take her and JJ on fishing trips with him, make them crappy, burnt pancakes for breakfast. But she couldn’t help the instinct of keeping her walls up, watching him from the corner of her eye, waiting for the moment the calm shattered, for reality to crash back down.

Because with Luke, it always did.

The kitchen was now quiet, except for the clink of dishes and the hum of the old ceiling fan overhead. The dim light cast long shadows across the counters, stretching out between them. Y/N wiped her hands on the rag, dishes now washed, her gaze still flickered to Luke drying the last dish. The silence had been hanging heavy; she could feel it pressing down on her shoulders, waiting to crack open. And then, without looking up, Luke muttered, 

“Better not be lying.”

Y/N’s hands froze still gripping onto the rag in her hands, she blinked once, twice, before glancing over at him. 

“What?”

Luke finally looked at her, his eyes sharp, unreadable, “about working”. Y/N felt her pulse quicken. She forced herself to keep her expression neutral, even as she slowly pulled her hands towards the sink, wiping it with the rag. 

“I work at the country club.”

Luke huffed, tossing the dish towel he was using onto the counter. “Yeah-” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

“You sure?”

“Yes- you think I’m dealing dru—?”

“-I think you’re my kid, and I know what it looks like when someone’s keeping secrets.” 

He cut in but his voice wasn’t raised, it didn’t need to be. It was threatening enough as it was. Y/N inhaled sharply through her nose, her grip tightening around the cloth in her hands. She wanted to snap back, wanted to tell him to fuck off, that shes the only reason they still had a roof over their heads and food in the fridge- but there was something in his tone, in the way he was watching her, that made it harder to breathe. She swallowed hard. 

“I told you,” she said, voice quieter now, “I’m a waitress and sometimes... I clean”

 “I hope so.”

Luke stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a slow exhale, shaking his head. Y/N’s stomach twisted. He dropped the dish cloth onto the counter and walked over to the fridge, cracking it open and grabbing a bottle of beer. Then he walked away without another word, leaving her standing there, heart pounding, hands fisting the material of her t-shirt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The club was louder than usual tonight, the air thick with sweat and smoke. Y/N felt the exhaustion settling deep in her bones, dragging at her every step. It had been a long week- too long. She picked up an extra shift at the country club and seemed to be coming to the club every evening, so all she wanted was to get through the night without any more bullshit but, of course, that was too much to ask.

“Aw c’mon sweetheart, give me a smile.”

Y/N barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She forced a tight-lipped grin instead, just enough to appease the drunk tourist slouched in front of her. He looked like the type who had never stepped foot in a place like this before, all sunburnt and sloppy, his polo shirt wrinkled from a day of drinking. “Just trying to get past sugar” she said, voice smooth but empty. The guy let out a loud, obnoxious laugh and leaned in closer. 

“And I’m just trying to have a little fun, sugar”

Y/N’s fingers twitched at her sides. She could feel the sweat sticking to her skin, the air suddenly feeling too thick, too suffocating. She spoke out to the man, keeping her tone light even though she could feel her patience fraying.

“I’m sure there are plenty of other girls who’d love to entertain you,” 

The man clucked his tongue, tilting his head as his eyes went down to stare at her chest- tits being pushed up by a leopard print bra- before noticing the slight frown on her brow. 

“Don’t be like that. You’re too pretty to have a face like that.”

Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head at his comment. She didn’t want to deal with this tonight. Not after the week she’d had. Not after— the man reached out, just barely brushing his fingers against her waist. It was light, barely anything. But it was enough for Y/N to take a sharp step back, her bracelets jingling at the sound, heart kicking up into her throat. She said, her voice sharper now,

“Don’t touch me”

“Whoa, relax, baby. No need to get all worked up.”

The guy raised his hands like he was innocent, like she was the one making a scene. Y/N swallowed hard, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Her nails dug into her palms, her entire body stiff as she fought to keep herself together as she walked over to an empty booth but she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. She sank into the empty booth, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes- trying not to smudge her mascara- as she tried to shake off the lingering tension from the encounter. Her pulse was still thrumming too fast, her body coiled tight. She just needed a second- just a second to breathe.

“Hey”

A soft voice pulled her back. Y/N blinked up to see Bambi standing there, arms crossed loosely over her chest, her head tilted in concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Y/N exhaled, nodding quickly. Bambi didn’t look convinced. She slid into the seat across from her, watching her carefully. “Maybe you should take a break Bunny…” Y/N shook her head before she could even think about it. 

“No, he was just an asshole. I’m fine.”

Bambi sighed, reaching out to rub Y/N’s arm lightly. Her voice dropped, softer now. “C’mon, don’t be like this, okay? Just take the rest of the night off. It’s dead in here anyway.” Y/N hesitated, her gaze flickering up to the small digital clock on the wall.

1:37 AM.

She could technically leave. The money tonight hadn’t been great, but she wasn’t sure she had the energy to keep pushing through either. “I don’t know…” she muttered. Bambi didn’t wait for her to make a decision. She just stood up, nodding her head toward the back. 

“C’mon.”

Y/N followed her into the dressing room, the fluorescent lights making everything feel a little too bright. Bambi shuffled through her bag, muttering under her breath, until she finally pulled something out and turned back to Y/N. She watched as Bambi pressed a small joint into her palm.

“Take the night off” 

Y/N stared down at it for a moment before her fingers curled around it. Maybe just this once couldn’t hurt? Y/N stepped out of the club, her bag now  slung over her shoulder as she zipped up her hoodie against the cool night air. The parking lot was mostly empty, the neon glow from the club’s sign casting long, eerie shadows across the pavement.

It was one of those rare nights that Rafe didn’t show up, and for once, she felt relieved. The last time she saw him was at the country club that night- so it's not like she was eager to see him again. But it was odd, him not being there. In all these past few weeks he’d been getting under her skin more than usual, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with his shit tonight anyways. Always in the background, always watching, always pushing- she couldn’t deny that it was starting to get to her. So maybe it was good that he wasn't there... She let out a slow breath as she made her way towards her car thinking about getting home, showering, and forgetting this night- this week- ever happened. But then she saw it.

Something fluttering against her windshield. Her brows pulled together as she got closer, her stomach twisting in irritation before she even knew what it was. And sure enough—

“What the fuck?”

A goddamn parking ticket

Y/N snatched it off the glass, scoffing as she scanned over the bullshit fine. She always parked here. She never got ticketed. But apparently, one of her tires was inches over the line, and that was enough for some asshole cop to give her a fine?

“Fucks sake” 

She muttered, shoving the ticket into her bag as she yanked her car door open. She threw herself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut a little harder than necessary. Just one more thing, one more headache. She dumped her bag into the passenger seat before her hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles tight, her jaw locked.

She just needed to get out of here.

Yet she couldn’t figure out if she was thinking of the club parking lot- or the island in general. Y/N let out a slow breath, her head falling back against the headrest. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, just long enough to let the exhaustion settle in her bones. Surprisingly, sitting alone in her car with the world muffled behind closed doors was hitting her all at once. She exhaled again, longer this time, before reaching up to tug at her earrings. The hoops clinked softly as she dropped them into the cupholder. Then came the rings, the thin ones stacked over her fingers, and finally the bracelets- the million little silver chains and beads that lined her wrists.

Her eyes flickered down.

A deep, ugly bruise was forming just beneath the faint imprints the bracelets had left behind. It had been a few days, but the color was still harsh- fading from deep purple to that sickly yellow-green. A reminder of her father's hold over her life, even when he wasn’t around. Her fingers ghosted over it and she swallowed looking away. Her gaze landed on the joint in the cupholder instead, its paper crinkled slightly from being shoved into her palm earlier. She thought about it. Thought about lighting up, about just forgetting for a little while and falling into the muffled haze she hasn’t been in for a while, but before she could, the screen of her phone lit up in her lap.

JJ (10)

She sighed, unlocking her phone with tired fingers.

JJ  :  yo 

JJ  :  are you coming to the bonfire tonight y/n? 

JJ : I literally told the gang ur coming

JJ  :  bruh 

JJ  :  answer ur phoneeeee

JJ  :  seriously?????

JJ  :  i've seen you like twice this week and its literally Saturday 

JJ  :  where are you 

JJ  :  you never spend time with me anymore what is going on with you

JJ : ?

Her grip tightened on the phone slightly before she groaned, tossing it onto the passenger seat and dragging a hand down her face. JJ was having a go at her- she was the older sibling wasn’t it meant to be the other way around? Did he really think she was choosing to distance herself from him- she’s the only one keeping their family afloat and now she’s getting punished by him too. She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek as she jammed the key into the ignition, shifting the car into reverse.

The tires screeched slightly against the pavement as she pulled out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel a little too hard. She sighed through her nose, stretching her fingers along the steering wheel. The hum of the engine was the only thing filling the silence, and it was too heavy, so she reached for the radio flicking the knob with her thumb. Nothing. She twisted it again but still nothing. Her eye twitched as she muttered, smacking the side of the console in frustration. 

"Stupid piece of shit" 

Yet the radio stayed stubbornly dead, leaving her with just the sound of her own breathing and the occasional rattle of the engine. The Cut blurred past her windows as she drove, the streetlights casting flickering shadows across the road. Her fingers drummed against the wheel, her body still buzzing with the exhaustion of the night. As she sat in silence driving she couldn’t help but mull over the question in her mind- and then it hit her

She didn’t want to go home.

Why the hell would she? Home was where all her problems were. Where her dad’s temper sat in the walls like cigarette smoke, where she could still hear the echoes of slammed doors and broken bottles. No, she couldn’t go back there- she didn’t want to. Her fingers tightened around the wheel, knuckles paling as she made a sharp turn, diverting from the usual route. 

She knew exactly where she needed to be.

The road stretched longer as she drove toward the beach, the town fading behind her, the air growing saltier. When she finally pulled into a small parking lot—one that was never busy, never full, one that she used to bring JJ to when they were younger and Luke had too much to drink. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Looking out through the windscreen she could see the dark ocean stretched out in front of her, endless, the waves crashing against the shore in a slow, steady rhythm. She killed the engine, sitting there for a second, just staring and she let out a small sigh, eyes looking down at the joint still sitting in her cup holder.

For a second, she just stared at it, debating.

Then, with a quiet sigh, she grabbed it, fingers brushing against the lighter beside it as she slipped out of the car. The beach was almost completely dark, save for the glow of the distant streetlights casting long shadows across the sand. The wind rolled in off the water, cool against her skin as she walked a little further down. She sat down, legs bent, one arm wrapped around her knees as she pulled the joint to her lips, sparking the lighter. The flame flickered for a moment before catching, the tip burning red-hot as she inhaled, holding the smoke deep in her lungs before slowly blowing it out.

The tension in her chest didn’t ease, not really, but at least it dulled the sharp edges.

She took another drag.

Then another and before she could stop it, before she even realised, her vision blurred.

The tears came out of nowhere.

Hot, quiet, slipping down her cheeks, dripping onto the sleeves of her hoodie. She rubbed at her face roughly, sniffling as she took another pull from the joint, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She hated crying- Luke always told her it was a sign of weakness- she wasn’t weak. But she was just so fucking tired. Of working her ass off just to barely scrape by. Of dealing with her dad. Of feeling like she was letting everyone down, like JJ was slipping away.

Like she was letting him down. 

Y/N wiped her sleeve under her eyes again, sniffling hard, trying to force herself to get it together. The waves rolled in, soft and steady, the only sound filling the silence between her sniffles. The joint burned between her fingers, the cherry coloured tip glowing faintly in the dark. She brought it to her lips again, inhaling slow, the warmth spreading through her lungs, through her limbs, settling somewhere deep in her bones. Her eyes stayed locked on the water, mind hazy, thoughts swimming.

She barely even registered the sound of a car approaching in the distance. Not until the glow of headlights swept over the sand, catching the edge of her vision. Her head turned lazily, gaze trailing toward the parking lot just as a car pulled up right next to hers. She blinked at it once, twice, before looking back at the water, unfazed.

Probably just some kids hooking up.

No one ever came here. No one even knew about this spot. She rubbed at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie, feeling the dampness of the material. The joint between her fingers had burned down about halfway now, the fuzzy warmth settling into her muscles, making her limbs feel heavier. She took another slow drag, exhaling through her nose, ignoring the sound of an engine cutting off behind her. Whoever it was, they weren’t her problem.

The bright glare of the headlights blinked off and the sound of a car door slamming shut echoed.  

She stayed still, unmoving, her gaze fixed on the water. Whoever it was, she didn’t care. Not enough to turn around, not enough to pull herself out of the haze settling over her, even when footsteps crunched against the sand.

A little uneven.

A little slow.

Whoever it was, were clearly coming her way. Her fingers tightened slightly around what was left of the joint, bringing it to her lips again just as the footsteps stopped.

Someone stood there, still as stone, eyes locked on her.

He hadn’t even recognized her at first- too caught up in his own head, too wired from the line he’d done before leaving Barry’s, his thoughts still tangled up in the mess of the night. He’d just wanted to clear his mind, let the salt air knock some sense back into him. But then he’d seen the curve of her shoulder and the delicate seashell inked into her skin, peeking out on her shoulder blade where her hoodie had slipped down. His jaw tensed, the buzz in his veins sharpening, his body instinctively pulling him closer before his mind could catch up.

He knew that tattoo.

And now, he wasn’t going anywhere- because what was she doing on his side of part beach?

“What are you doing here?”

His tone was unexpected- like he’d been caught off guard, like she was an intruder. But why wouldn’t he be? She doesn’t belong here. Not on this stretch of sand. This place was his mother’s. 

Their place.

Before everything turned to shit, she’d bring him here on Sundays, just the two of them. She’d pack fresh fruit in a cooler, spread out a towel, and run her fingers through his hair while he sat between her legs, half-asleep from the warmth of the sun. It was the only place he'd ever cherished. 

And now she was here. 

Sitting in his sand. 

Smoking on his beach. 

Y/N doesn’t even look up, her voice sharp, cutting through the thick silence.

“Sorry is this your beach, Rafe?”

She almost laughs at herself, because it’s fucking ridiculous—the whole situation. She was supposed to be alone. Sitting in peace. But then he showed up. Just like her goddamn father. Just like every other man in her life who couldn’t let her fucking breathe. She hears his steps before she sees him, the uneven drag of his shoes against the sand. Then suddenly, he’s towering over her, and she feels it—the shift in the air, the pull of something inevitable. Her fingers drop the burnt-out joint into the sand, and she moves to stand, to leave, to get the hell away from him, but—

Rafe blocks her.

She collides into his chest with a quiet oof, stumbling back slightly, her balance thrown off for just a second. Y/N exhales sharply, shaking her head, before trying to move past him again. But this time, Rafe doesn’t just stand there. His hand comes out fast, gripping her upper arm- not hard, but firm enough to stop her in her tracks. She has to take a step back, her pulse spiking, annoyance flashing hot in her chest as she lets out a small scoff even in her drugged haze.

“Don’t be a bitch, Maybank.”

The words land like a slap. A slow-burning ember turning into a wildfire. It’s not even just the insult- it’s the way he says it. That low, condescending drawl. Like he’s above her. Like he thinks he can control her, that she’s just another thing for him to mess with, to push and pull whenever it suits him. And she doesn’t know if it’s the anger which has been building for weeks now, or the fact she was high.

But before she even fully registers the movement her hands shove into his chest 

Forcefully 

Enough that Rafe actually stumbles back, his balance thrown for a split second. And he just stands there, staring at her. Like he’s trying to process what just happened. For once, there’s no quick comeback. No smug remark. Just stunned silence as he looks at her like she’s someone he doesn’t quite recognize.

But then—just as quickly—his expression shifts. That smug fucking smirk creeps back onto his face, eyes flickering with something almost amused. Y/N feels her blood boil.

“YOU'RE THE FUCKING BITCH!”

Her voice cracks with frustration as she yells the words out at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She doesn’t even recognise herself- doesn’t care that she’s causing a scene, doesn’t care that her whole body is vibrating with anger. She’s shaking as she points her finger at him jaggedly and loudly slurs out,

“You’re the stupid fucking bitch”

Her breath comes in ragged bursts, chest rising and falling too fast, her whole body trembling with the weight of everything she’s been holding inside. Her chest tightens, a lump forming in her throat, and she knows—knows—she’s about to break. But she can’t stop herself now.

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up, taken aback. Not just by what she said, but how she said it. Her voice isn’t steady like always. It’s cracked, uneven, shaking as much as her hands. The words come out slower, slurred, not just from the blunt but from the exhaustion, she’s unraveling right in front of him, drowning in everything she’s tried so hard to keep buried.

She can’t take it anymore so with a harsh, desperate push, she shoves him back- harder this time. "What do you want from me, huh?" Her voice cracks as she spits the words at him, and her body shakes with the force of everything she’s holding in. 

"What do you want from me?.... Why won’t you just fucking leave me alone?!"

Her breath hitches, and her voice breaks completely in the middle of her sentence. It’s too much, and the tears she’s been fighting back spill over, streaking down her cheeks. They roll freely down her face now, mixing with the salt from the sea breeze, soaking into her already damp skin.

She stands there, trembling, her hands balled into fists, her chest heaving as she stares at him like she’s ready to either fight or run. For a moment, Rafe’s gaze softens but just as quickly, that softness vanishes, replaced by the cold indifference he wears so effortlessly.

He steps closer, his presence towering over her, filling the space between them. She can feel the weight of him standing there, like he’s waiting for something—and then, in his usual, dismissive tone, he speaks.

“You’re a fucking mess.”

It stings. The way he says it, like it's just another observation, like it means nothing to him. But it cuts deeper than anything he's said before.

Because she knows it true.

Her voice shakes with the anger which is still there, but now it’s mixed with something else- something raw and vulnerable.

“You’re so fucking selfish.”

She spits the words at him like they’re poison, her eyes flashing with something fierce, but he just stands there, watching her, as if it’s all some kind of show. She shoves him again, but this time he reacts faster, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist with surprising force.

“Don’t fucking push me.”

He holds her there, and the moment his fingers close around her wrist, she winces. It’s an instinctive reaction, and she can’t stop herself. The pain flares in an instant. Her bruised wrist—the one that’s been aching since her father grabbed it—feels like it’s being crushed.

Rafe notices. 

He sees the way her face contorts with the slightest touch, the way her breath hitches as she struggles to keep her composure. Her pulse quickens as she yanks her wrist free, glaring at him with a mixture of fury and desperation.

“Get off of me” 

She snaps, her voice breaking with frustration. He doesn’t say anything at first, but she can see the way his eyes linger on her, studying her like he’s piecing something together. It doesn’t take long for her to realize he’s noticed the bruise, and that just makes her snap harder.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” 

“Maybank—” 

But she cuts him off, her frustration pouring out in a torrent of words She points at herself, her finger trembling in the air before she repeatedly jabs it into her chest aggressively. 

“D'you think I want to work in that fucking club, huh? HUH, RAFE?!”

The words fly out of her like she’s been holding them back forever, her voice cracking slightly at the end. There’s desperation there now, unfiltered and it’s not just anger anymore. She’s screaming at him because he’s been tormenting her—trapping her in the world she’s trying to claw her way out of. Stuck between trying to survive and trying to hold onto a shred of dignity. The silence lingers between them, suffocating in its weight, and for the first time, it’s not charged with anger or frustration- it’s something else, something she can’t quite place. Her voice is quieter now, the anger draining out of her, leaving only exhaustion.

“Just leave me alone.”

The words are like a plea, but they still hold a sharp edge. She shoves past him, not bothering to spare him a glance as she walks towards her car, her body moving with purpose, as if every step is an effort to desperately escape from this moment, from him.

Behind her, Rafe watches her walk away, his eyes fixed on her retreating figure. His jaw clenches, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, unsure of what he’s feeling. There’s something there- it’s almost as if the walls he’s built around himself, the ones that keep him from caring about anything or anyone, are starting to crack. Why does he feel like this? Why does he feel this nagging sense of... 

Regret

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