harryssattelitestomper - Tumblr blog

harryssattelitestomper · 5 days

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GOT WHAT YOU WANTED

summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.

now spinning: too many nights by metro & future

word count: 11.5k

warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)

truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry.

it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs.

those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.

to jj that is.

you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.

jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you.

“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this.

“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire.

jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.

“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.

“other.. boy?”

“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.

“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”

“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”

“no. it didn’t come up.”

“ah. got it.”

“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.

“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.

you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.

“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”

“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve.

and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.

but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it.

you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”

“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you.

“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.

“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it.

it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.

“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”

“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.

“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”

“guys-”

“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”

“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”

“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.

“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj.

whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.

“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”

“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”

“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.

“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”

“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.

“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.”

“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.

“yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t.”

“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.

“no, she’s not.”

“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”

“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”

“no you fuckin’ don’t.”

“who are you to tell me-”

“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”

you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.

“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”

“what else do you want me to say, huh?”

“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”

“m’not ignoring anything-”

“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”

“shut up.”

“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”

“what? what do you want?”

“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”

“don’t talk like that.��

“rafe.”

exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you.

that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet.

you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with.

the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.

rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.

“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out.

you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.

“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.

“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”

“is that your way of apologizing?”

“it’s not an apology.”

“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“i didn’t.”

“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”

rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.

“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.

“thanks rafe.”

“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window.

“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.

“kid.”

“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.

“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.

“but you get to do it?”

“that’s different-”

“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.

“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”

“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”

“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”

“rafe. shut up.”

“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”

“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”

“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”

“rafe?” “yeah?”

“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.

“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”

“goodbye, rafe.”

you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.

sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality.

then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you.

key word: maybe.

the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement.

maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.

you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.

.☘︎ ݁˖

rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him.

“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”

“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.

“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.

“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”

“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.

“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.

“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”

“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”

“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”

“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”

“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”

“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.

“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”

“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.

“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.”

“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.

he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped.

when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning.

you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.

if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you.

kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.

“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.

“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.

“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water.

“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”

“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.

“then shut up ‘bout it.”

“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.

when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.

“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you.

the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.

“yeah. i guess i am.”

you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.

“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.

“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”

“you need a ride?”

“no, i drove here, remember?”

“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”

“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.

“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.

“talk about it? talk about what?”

“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”

“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.

“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.

“oh my god-”

“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.

“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”

“what? your mom let me in.”

“you didn’t even text-”

“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”

“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”

“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.

“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.

“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”

“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.

“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”

“oh.”

“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.

“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.

“what about that girl?”

“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”

“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”

“oh. okay. promise?”

“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.

“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.

“alright. get on the bed.”

“rafe-”

“what? i just said-”

“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”

“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”

“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”

“ha-ha. get on the bed.”

“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”

“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”

you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe.

you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head.

the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.

rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.

“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”

“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.

“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.

he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.

“you wearin’ anything under this?”

he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no.

“good girl.”

your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties.

you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.

“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”

before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.

“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!”

“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”

you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.

you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you.

rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers.

“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand.

limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.

“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?

“nothin’.”

“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”

“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.

“what?”

“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea.

he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to.

“god, you’re such a boy.”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.

“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.

“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.

“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.

“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”

“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away.

you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.

you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.

he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder.

your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.

with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours.

you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.

he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy.

rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.

“you didn’t last very long.”

“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”

“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”

“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.

“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay.

you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry.

“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest.

“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”

“your parents are downstairs, remember?”

“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.

“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”

“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”

“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.

“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes.

“why? got nowhere else to be.”

“oh. okay.”

“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”

“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.

“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.

and the part where you slept with your best friend.

a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.

top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere

kelce: maybe princess finally killed him

top: stop hanging out without us

kelce: top lets just pull up next time

you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.

“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.”

“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”

“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”

rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.

“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”

you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.

“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”

rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.

“you wanna say that again?”

“uhh-”

“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”

“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”

“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.

“get out!”

“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”

“okay! wait, stay.”

“s’what i thought.”

“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.

“you woke me up.”

“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”

“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.

“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone.

about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.

you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.

but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it.

with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not.

after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead.

the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.

“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.

“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”

“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.

“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”

“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”

“you too. tell them i say hi.”

the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.

you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you.

you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.

“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.

“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.

“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”

“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.

“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”

“thanks top.”

you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top.

walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.

it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on.

“hey.”

“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”

“yeah.”

“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”

“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.

“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”

“yeah, i did.”

“i just hope they’re sweet.”

“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”

“it’s a great day. good weather.”

“you already said that.”

“oh.”

“would you stop and look at me?”

“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.

“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.

“i’m fine.. are you okay?”

“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”

“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”

“you were on board-”

“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”

“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.

“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”

“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.

“why are you being so nice about it?”

“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”

“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”

“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”

“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”

“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”

“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.

“you’re starin’.”

“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”

“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”

turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.

from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.

“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.

“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”

you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear.

he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.

“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.

“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”

“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck.

“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away

“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.

“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.

your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.

you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.

“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.

“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.

“fun. what time?”

.☘︎ ݁˖

finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.

“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.

“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat.

you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.

topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now).

you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.

inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks.

the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.

“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.

“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.

“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.

he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands.

if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.

“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.

he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.

“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.

“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot.

he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.

“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.

“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”

“but i made the last one!”

“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”

“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.

for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.

“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.

“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”

“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you.

“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.

“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer.

“alright, you’re cut off.”

the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him.

you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”

“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.

“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.

“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.

“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch.

you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.

this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are.

rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.

“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”

“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.

“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”

“man, why am i always on top watch-”

in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.

“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.

kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now.

“enough. why?”

“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.

“you saw me?”

“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.

“what, you jealous, kid?”

“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.

“no, m’not.”

you bite your cheek and stare out the window.

“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.

tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.

you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.

you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?

grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.

“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.

“the couch.”

“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”

“i’m starting something new.”

“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.

you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.

“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.

rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.

“what the hell was that?”

“this whole thing was a mistake.”

“it’s been two days.”

“well i’m an emotional fuck!”

“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.

“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?”

“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”

“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”

“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”

“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?”

in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.

or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.

the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you.

you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.

and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.

“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”

“you should have just confessed.”

“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

“it’s been two days,” you mock.

“yeah, well, we tried it.”

“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.

“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”

“so if we break up-”

“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”

“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”

“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”

“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”

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harryssattelitestomper · 8 days

Text

The Séance Experience

ghost!harry | ghost!reader | horror | dark

Summary: A pair of spiritual mediums decide to host an underground seance on Halloween morning at the old abandoned Styles’ house, well know for being haunted. Things go awry. Not everyone escapes.

A/n: I'll have warnings listed below but just know this isn't for everyone! Read at your own discretion! This is dark and horror based. If you'd like some background on the story read the original one shot - On Halloween Morning but this can be read as a standalone.

Word Count: 9224

Warning: 18+ only, smut, dubcon, death, violence, murder, ghosts, evil spirits, use of Ouija board, horror, dark content

Cooper had been planning this for nearly a year. It had meant a lot to her. It wasn’t just a gimmick to make a quick buck and trick gullible souls like one would think. No, she was a real spiritual medium. Sensitive to energy from the presence of the dead among the living, as well as entities of the evil kind. And every time she passed the old Styles house she felt it call to her. It truly was a cursed graveyard, now home to dead souls and dark spirits alike.

Almost everyone had heard of what happened in that house on Halloween morning in 1968. An entire family was slaughtered. At first, the police didn’t know who did it but eventually determined it was the 20-year-old son, Harry Styles, who had killed himself after killing his entire family in their beds.

But it didn’t end there. Over the years people would sneak into the house and many would never be heard from again. And there was never any evidence of anyone being in the house. A missing person without a body is hard to investigate. Police had gone in numerous times to check out calls when neighbors heard screams or family members were concerned when a loved one never returned. Nothing was ever found except usually a few loose boards and pried-open windows or doors but they always chalked that up to squatters coming and going or the occasional thrill seeker.

All those missing people who’d gone in and never come back out led Cooper to believe the house was inhabited by a dark force. Not just ghosts of the dead. It could be common for a home to turn into a cemetery of sorts when people had died on the premises. But it wasn’t common for a home to harbor the darkness of evil and to lure and then collect the souls of the living.

But she still needed to go in there and make contact somehow. There was an intense pull. Something drew her in, called to her, and it only got stronger as time went on. She became obsessed with the house. Read every news article she could find, all the missing people connected to Styles house, police reports, and supposed first-hand accounts of those who had escaped (she knew to take most of those stories with a grain of salt).

She found out as much as she could about the original family members, especially Harry Styles, who she was sure was the cause of all the chaos that had surrounded the house for over half a century. Even in death, he was something to be reckoned with. There was some talk, accounts of old friends of the Styles boy before his violent passing, that he was evil. That he had a violent temper, and that he was into the worship of a malevolent spirit called Angra.

Then, after learning all she could, she put out a small ad in the paper, just to get some interest from other psychics and seers like herself. Anyone who would take seriously the idea that the Styles house was haunted and in need of someone to go in and communicate to the dead or to whatever kind of spirit it was that held domain over the premises. Perhaps they could do some good.

A few calls and texts came in. Most of them were just curious and nosy. Finally, one was like her. A spiritual empath and guide. He was interested in joining her in reaching out to the home and the spirits within. But he also had contacts with others who would consider themselves psychic or clairvoyant. He was in the business of healing and reading for a living. Cooper was hesitant at first but the least she could do was meet up with the man and get a feel for him in person.

When Bran arrived (she imagined Bran was short for Brandon but never bothered to ask) and sat down across from her at the diner off Spring Street in Chinatown, she looked up from her phone and smiled at the man, “Hi. Thank you for coming,” she reached her hand out to shake his and immediately she felt it. He was deeply intuitive and came with a wealth of psychic energy. But she still needed to be sure of his intentions because she was picking up something a little off with him.

They discussed the things they’d seen and felt over the years and shared stories amongst themselves that most would scoff at. Bran told her about his small business. He knew a lot of people who would be interested in doing a séance at the old Styles house.

“I need them to all be sensitive to what could happen. To be aware. I don’t want just anyone coming. I don’t want this to be a free-for-all and have disrespectful people who just want to have a thrill for fun. It needs to be people vetted and serious.”

Bran nodded with a somber expression on his face, “Of course. I can get the word out to the right people and to my group of contacts. I can already think of a handful who would be interested in joining and would take this very seriously.”

She nodded, “That’s great. Because the more of us the better. This house is seriously dangerous. That’s another thing I want everyone to know. That people who visit the house don’t always come out.”

He took a bite of his tuna fish sandwich, “Well I don’t want to scare anyone off but I’ll tell them if you think it's necessary.”

Bran was a tall ghostly pale man. His eyes were sunken and dark, his nose long and pointy and his skin was smooth and free of any inkling that he could grow facial hair. In all honesty, he looked underfed. He was only a few years older than Cooper herself yet despite his smooth skin, he appeared to be 20 years her senior. He wore a brown corduroy, long-sleeved button-down shirt with loose-fitting, navy-blue athletic pants that dragged the ground. And Birkenstocks. He was balding at the front and his hair was already going white.

She reached out to some others, in hopes that she’d find someone she could truly trust. There was just something about Bran that didn’t sit right with her. She knew to listen to her intuition. She knew not to ignore the little warnings going off in her head, but there weren’t that many people like her. And even if he was a bit sketchy, he was truly like her and she knew it deep down.

So, the séance would move forward with Bran and whoever he could find along the way. She would keep her eye on him and make sure he stayed in line, but he was her best option, unfortunately.

She did not have a good feeling about what was to come.

30 minutes before Halloween

Harry and Y/n were preparing for their yearly Halloween ritual when they were disturbed by boards being ripped from the back door of their house, “They’re early.” Harry said.

“Well, early is good, right?”

“We can just have some fun. Fuck with ‘em a bit,” Harry grinned and thread his fingers into hers.

“But we can keep them, though?”

“Of course my love.”

Often when humans came into their home, Harry and Y/n’s favorite game was to lure the unsuspecting souls toward them with the delicious sound of sex. Make them think they’d caught someone fucking when in reality, they’d just fallen into their trap.

Peeping Toms would peek into the bedroom door and see two lovely beings going at it, bed rocking, skin slapping, moaning… the whole nine.

Sometimes Y/n would seduce whoever it was, or maybe Harry would do the seducing, depending on the preference of their new victim. And people were dumb. They had no idea that they were being groped and kissed and fucked by a ghost. Worse than a ghost. Something dark and sinister. Something that was about to claim their soul and their life.

“Fuck, Harry…” Y/n was on top this time. Rolling her hips over him, one hand pressed into his chest, her other yanking at his long hair to keep his head down. He kept trying to flip her over but Y/n wanted the top this time.

“There we go… Good boy… just stay down. Let me ride you,” she moaned and worked her wet pussy back and forth.

“What’s that sound?”

“Fuck. I don’t know.”

Rick and Jacob began to unload their suitcases to start setting up for the séance. Just a few things were really needed. Signage was taped to the side of the house so the rest of the group knew where to enter. A table was set up outside the door (after the boards were pried off and the doorknob smashed in with a hammer). Candles would light the pathway to the basement, which is where their friend Bran told them they’d be holding the séance.

“There it is again. Hold on…” Jacob held a hand up as he stood from his position over his suitcase.

“Shit. This isn’t good. I’m getting a vibe man…” Rick whispered.

Both men stood silently and listened to what sounded like…

“Someone’s having sex?”

“Holy shit… I don’t think it’s human because I’m picking something up, but shit…”

“It’s a trap.”

The rhythmic clank of the bed and Y/n’s moans of pleasure grew louder. And both men knew it was a trap. Knew it was dangerous to go further but it was like they were in a trance. Without another word, the pair began to follow the sound up the hallway until they could hear the mattress bouncing.

And as expected, the door was pushed open just enough so both men could take a peek inside and feast their eyes on what was happening before them.

“You’re gonna regret this,” Harry smacked her bottom but it only made Y/n laugh as she ground over him harder.

“I never regret fucking your brains out, Harry,” her tits swayed as if made of real, warm human flesh.

Harry lifted his thigh and put his feet flat onto the mattress in another attempt to roll them over so he could get on top but before he got any momentum the two onlookers watched as the female slapped the face of the man under her.

She took her hand out of his hair and wrapped her palm around the front of his neck, pushing him down further, “Fucking said stay still.”

Harry loved it. Loved having someone to play with. He’d really gotten the answer to his prayer to Angra with her when she was led to him the year prior. From the beginning she was perfect. A little more spicy than he imagined but he liked her this way. She was always mad at him, which led to lots of fighting but then of course lots of sex as well. He never adored anyone when he was among the living. But Y/n? He adored. She was his gift. His eternal mate. They were bonded and even when she was smacking him around he couldn’t get enough.

Y/n squeezed tighter around his neck and Harry grinned at her, his eyes going wide at the sensation. He would have spoken back but he was busy feeling the euphoria he only got from his mate.

Rick nudged Jacob and jerked his head in a motion for them to leave but Jacob put his finger up and continued looking in.

“Like what you see?” Y/n sang out as she raised her hips just enough so the men could have a nice view of her pussy riding up and down Harry’s big, evil cock. She turned back to look at the door and made eye contact with both of them as she kept rocking over Harry and held him down with her hand on his throat.

“Fuck! Shit!” Both Jacob and Rick stood to run but before they could even make it to the kitchen Y/n was standing before them naked, holding her hands out, “Where are you going? I can’t believe you just left in the middle of the show we were putting on for you two. You didn’t like it?”

“I think these two have a special gift. That’s why they didn’t just come in and join us,” Harry spoke behind the pair causing them to startle and turn to see Harry right behind them. Also naked.

“You know? You’re right. That explains it doesn’t it?” She stepped in toward Jacob who looked like he was about to piss his pants. She drew her long finger over his collarbone and walked around his frame slowly. Inspecting. “You’re special aren’t you?”

She looked up at Jacob as she stood back in front of him.

He shook his head and looked at Rick, who was in the same state as Jacob.

Y/n’s finger pressed into Jacob’s chin and she pushed his head back so he was facing her, “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you like this? Look…” she gestured with her free hand along her body. “You don’t want any?”

Jacob quickly shook his head again and Harry leaned in to speak to the man who’d just rejected his mate, “I’d say yes if I were you. Because this will be the last time you ever get to touch her in this way again. And you’re going to want to touch her once you belong to the house, belong to us. So yes is the answer. Not no.”

Harry stood up and placed his hands at Rick’s shoulders and squeezed, giving him a bit of a neck massage, “And you. You can have me. I can just feel the gay energy rising off your prick right now,” Harry whispered into Rick’s ear. He was trembling. Absolutely terrified. Both men were.

“See? This is all just about a proper introduction and welcome to our home. Come…” Y/n grabbed Jacob's hand and led him toward the bedroom where she and Harry had just been.

“I really like a man who lets me do all the work. Just lie there and enjoy. Okay?” She pointed at the bed but Jacob didn’t move. All of his senses were firing off. Run, hide, fight, give in… This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he’d considered himself someone very sensitive to spirits. But these two. They were different. He could feel the power coming from the male and the female ghost. He knew he was no match. In fact, he was sure none of the others, who would be joining him and Rick in the next twenty minutes or so, were also no match.

“What are you?” He finally found his voice.

“I’m Y/n. This house is our domain. We feed it and we take care of it. We’ll all get to know one another a little better once everything is said and done. Then you’ll understand more.”

She didn’t want to waste any more time as she saw Harry behind her with his prey. Harry was already sucking at the man’s neck, making his move.

“Come sit with me… what’s your name?”

She took his hand and led him to the bed, “Uh… Jacob.”

“Jacob,” she spoke his name like she was already having sex with him, “A nice Christian name. I hope you know God can’t save you here. You’re mine. So you might as well enjoy this.”

Harry kept his eyes on Y/n and Jacob as he cupped Rick’s crotch, “Oh? Does being scared turn you on?”

It did in fact. Rick’s connection to the dead was more than just a spiritual guiding. It was physical. He got turned on anytime he used his gifts to contact the unliving.

Y/n had slid her hand up Jacob’s thigh and made sure he kept his eyes on hers, “Just keep looking at me. You’re doing so good for me.”

Jacob’s chest began to rise and fall heavily as the hot naked woman got nearer and nearer to his crotch. He tried not to let the way she looked human and so supple get to him. It was a façade. Yet her breasts were soft and round, her nipples hard, and her tummy looked like he could nuzzle into it. Her thighs and legs were long and silky. She was breathtaking. She looked more like an angel than the evil thing she really was which had him confused.

“It’s okay to be confused, Jacob. Just let me take care of you. Let me show you why you came here tonight. The real purpose of your life. It’s all led up to this very moment. You and me, Jacob.”

His gaze dropped to her plush lips and that was her cue, “Do you want to try a kiss? See how real and warm and wet it is?”

She licked her lips as his eyes plunged to her mouth and then her pretty tits. But before he could nod she already had her mouth covering his. And that’s all it took for Jacob to surrender. She tasted real. She felt real. He put her hands up to her breasts and gently squeezed as she laughed into his mouth, “That’s right. Feel me. Enjoy me.”

Harry moaned as he pressed Rick’s lips down over his cock. Rick was much easier to convince. All it took was Harry’s dirty words in his ear and his lips on his neck and he was a goner. Rick had been turned on before he’d even stepped foot into the house.

He had one hand at the footboard keeping himself steady as he used his free hand to guide Rick over his cock. But he kept his eyes on Y/n as she kissed the other man and he groped her luscious tits. Harry tended to get jealous a bit. Sometimes more than others but he never enjoyed being a cuck. Because Y/n was his. But he could admit, it was awfully fun playing with their captives.

She backed away from the kiss and grinned, “See? So nice,” she thumbed at his bottom lip and then pulled at it, “I know it feels real. And it is real in a way. I’ll feel just like a human and for me, I’ll get pleasure if you’re good. I know you’re thinking a ghost won’t feel this since we’re technically, dead,” she laughed, “But I always feel it. Harry and I fuck every day and it’s just as good as when I was alive.”

Jacob didn’t move an inch, “Don’t you want to make a woman feel good, Jacob?” Harry grunted, “She’s offering you something special and you’re just sitting there like a dope.”

Y/n shushed Harry, “He’s just nervous my love. Either way, we’ll get him naked,” she turned to look at Jacob, “I want you to take all your clothes for me. Can you do that for me, Jacob?”

The man nodded and with shaky hands began to take his clothes off.

Y/n smirked at Harry who had his mouth dropped open. Rick was pretty good with his mouth, he had to be honest, “Don’t forget the balls there Ricky poo,” Harry pulled Rick by the back of his hair to drag him off his dick before pushing his head lower to which the man quickly began to kiss and lick.

Jacob pulled his shoes off and then his pants down his legs before looking at Y/n.

“Take your underwear off. Can’t very well fuck you if you keep yourself tucked away,” she pointed at his black briefs.

Jacob looked toward Rick and Harry and then to Y/n, “I’d… uh… like some privacy maybe. Feels weird having them in here with us.”

Harry pushed Rick’s forehead, causing him to fall back onto the floor with a thud, “You want privacy with my girl? I should rip your throat out for even thinking you’d be allowed that kind of indulgence.” Harry rounded the bed and walked up behind Y/n, putting his lips on her neck with his eyes on the intruder. “No. You get no privacy in this house. Everything that happens here happens under my watch,” he spoke as he dotted kisses along her skin and up to her jaw.

Y/n laughed and turned in Harry’s arms, “He doesn’t know any better, Harry. Just… go back to your toy and I’ll go back to mine. Ignore the ignorant comment he made,” she stroked her nails down his chest. But she knew the look in Harry’s eyes. He wasn’t going to let this go that easily. He was in a mood, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Because soon, it would be Halloween morning and they’d be quite busy.

Harry walked away from Y/n, back to where Rick was still on his knees on the floor. He dragged Rick up to stand, “Remove your clothes as well. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

With both men naked and looking as if they were about to be devoured by a bear, Y/n hummed and circled around Jacob, “Lie on the bed for me. You’re free to jack off if you want. I’d actually prefer it if you did,” she gestured toward to the bed and the man hesitantly climbed up and laid himself flat as he was told. “See, I need you to stay hard for me, and sometimes when a man gets really scared he can tend to go limp. So I just need you to let go of all your thoughts and stroke your cock and just be in the moment with me. Can you do that, Jacob?”

He swallowed loudly and blinked his eyes as he kept them on Y/n who knelt next to him on the bed, waiting for him to answer, “I… I don’t know…”

She ran her cool hand up his sinewy thigh and brushed her fingers over his cock, “I know you can do it. You’re halfway there. Just submit to me, Jacob. Do as I say and this will be a lot less painful for you. In fact, you might even enjoy it if you let all those rational thoughts in your head disappear into nothingness. I need you as dumb for me as possible. Let me do all the thinking.” She squeezed his cock before straddling his thighs and grabbed his hand, pulling it down to his prick, “Here you are. Here’s your penis. Keep it in your hand and jerk yourself slowly. I know it’s a hard task but I believe in you, Jacob,” she spoke darkly. The insult was missed by no one in the room.

Harry had Rick bent over the footboard, his ass bare and open for him as he kept his eyes on his mate while she sat over Jacob’s face and placed her hands on his chest. She kept her own eyes on Harry’s as she began to rub her pussy over the stranger.

“Not bad…” she laughed, “But I want more tongue.”

Harry groaned as he pushed himself into Rick. The man cried out in pain at the sudden intrusion. And Harry had gone in dry so it was quite unpleasant. But Harry didn’t care about Rick’s pleasure. He was too busy watching Y/n. He didn’t like it when she enjoyed herself too much with anyone but him.

“No. No, no, no, Jacob. No good. You’re really not good at this are you?” She lifted herself and peered down at the man. “I feel bad for all the girls you attempted this with. Let’s try something else.” She climbed off of him and stood next to the bed pointing at Harry, “Can you be done with him already? I need your assistance over here.”

Harry grinned as he rammed himself into Rick one more time, causing a howl to fall from the man’s chest and he gripped the footboard with white knuckles.

“Ricky poo, it was a pleasure. Truly. It’s time for you to meet the rest of the house, now,” he spoke darkly to the man as he brought his slender fingers up to Rick’s neck and began to squeeze. Rick’s face grew red as he began to shake and struggle to get free from Harry’s grasp. But Harry had him pinned and he was far stronger than Rick.

Jacob lifted his head to watch in horror as the evil spirit began to choke his friend but Y/n sat on his chest and blocked his view, “Best not to look, Jacob. Focus on me and keep stroking your cock. I see you’ve been slacking off a little.”

Rick’s face turned from bright red to purple as the air was blocked from his lungs. Harry tightened his grip even more until the man was slumped and his neck was crushed.

Harry grunted as he dropped the man to the floor and then looked to Y/n, “Done.”

She gestured with her finger, a come hither motion as she opened her legs up, still sitting on Jacob’s chest, her back to his face, “Let’s show poor Jacob how it’s done,” she spoke teasingly.

Y/n climbed off Jacob’s chest and turned to look at the sad man, “Sit up, back against the wood. I want you to watch this. And even though you’ll never be able to use these newly learned techniques I think it’ll be enlightening for you nonetheless.”

Harry grasped Y/n’s hips as he dropped to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed so her ass was hanging off, “Got a good view, Jacob?” He eyed the man teasingly before dipping into lick over her cunt and moaning at the taste.

Y/n stuck her fingers into Harry’s hair and looked at Jacob, “See where his tongue is going? That feels so good. That’s the hood of my clit. That’s a spot a lot of terrible lovers don’t ever think about. I bet you’re one of them aren’t you, Jacob? No idea where the clit was before now?”

Jacob shook his head, “I know what the clitoris is! Please this is… I won’t tell anyone. Please let me go…” he sat up further and pressed his hands into the mattress as if he were about to push himself off the bed.

“Stop!” Y/n’s loud growl along with her grip on his cock had him immediately stopping. He hadn’t expected her to reach out for it like that, “Sit the fuck back and watch my pussy get licked by a pro. Unless you want me to tear your dick off? I will if you’d like. Just try that again and find out what happens.”

Jacob put his hands up and leaned his back into the board behind his head and looked to the floor at Rick lying lifeless. He was trembling and his heart was pounding in terror.

“And why do you keep defying my rules? Stroke. Your. Fucking. Cock. I need you hard for what I’m about to do. So chop chop!” She laughed and then looked back down to Harry sliding his tongue against her. His eyes were on her. She loved when he’d get on his knees for her. He did it often.

“Fuck… I don’t want to come yet,” she moaned as she pushed at his head, “You’re too good at that she smiled. “I want to come on Jacob’s cock. Really give him a special going away before the house takes him.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and scowled at Jacob who was slowly pulling at his cock.

“What is it, darling?” Y/n placed a finger under Harry’s chin to turn his attention back to her. She knew what it was. Knew how jealous Harry would get when she’d play with other people. Cooing at him she leaned down to kiss him and reached a hand out for Jacob’s leg, “Aww… don’t be jealous. You know your cock is my favorite. Your lips and your hands… Baby, this is just for fun. You are forever.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shook his head at her condescending words, “Can I be inside of you too?”

Y/n laughed as she straddled Jacob once again, “Sure. You wanna share a hole with him or have your own?”

Harry got behind her with Jacob lying flat as he put himself between the man’s legs and reached his arms around to pinch Y/n’s nipples, “I’ll fuck your ass while you fuck his skinny prick with your cunt. Give you something to feel in one of your holes at least,” he laughed sinisterly.

Y/n laughed with him as she looked down at Jacob, “Is that okay, Jacob? Mind if I have two cocks inside of me? I will need a little something more because you really are a bit underwhelming,” she flicked at his shaft. Her words were filthy and rude.

“I umm… Please, I…” Jacob wined as Y/n took his hands and held him down by his wrists.

“Oh? Begging already? Well, that’s certainly a good sign,” she laughed dryly before lifting her hips to allow Harry inside of her first.

He gripped her hips harshly and began to slowly push in, her anus stretching out before him and she moaned. Jacob was lying still under the pair as they began to move together, his hands pinned down.

“Fuck me… Harry your cock is the best. Oh shit!” She turned to look over her shoulder and nearly forgot all about the man under her. The man she was supposed to be playing with.

Harry began to fuck into Y/n as his thrusts had her rocking back and forth. She moaned and clenched and hissed at the feel of Harry poking into her.

“Oh fuck!” She panted as she leaned in down to give Harry more access, her face only inches above Jacobs. She looked down at the man and grinned, “You never got this kind of response from anyone, did you? Can’t use your tongue or your prick properly. Poor man. We’re doing you a favor here. And all the women you might have tried to get into bed in the future as well. No more disappointing sex from you I’m afraid.”

Harry was pleased that she hadn’t put Jacob inside of her. He pounded himself into her harshly and made it so that she wouldn’t be able to angle herself enough to get the human’s prick anywhere near her pussy.

“Goddamn! I might not even want your prick anymore, Jacob. Ahhh!” She let out a guttural moan, “It’s too little for me anyhow. No fun in that…” Her words came out in punched breaths as Harry rocked into her.

Harry laughed as he heard her give him insult after insult. The bed was squeaking and the candles along the edge of the room flickered.

Y/n looked at the shadows on the wall and gasped when she saw the spirits arrive.

“It’s midnight. Let’s get this over with…” she said as she released one of Jacob’s hands and pressed her palm down over his throat.

Harry leaned in and placed his fingers over her clit and thrusted in harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Yess… Make me come, Harry. I want all the spirits to see this.”

Suddenly Jacob gasped and his muscles tightened in his release. He hadn’t even meant to but the restriction of his airflow and some strange involuntary physical arousal had taken over. He poured out over his tummy as Y/n reared back into Harry’s cock with a gasp.

“Oh, he’s coming, my love!” Y/n laughed before groaning at Harry’s stiff cock slipping out of her.

Harry pulled her off of Jacob and angled her hips up as he sat back onto his haunches, “This is my fucking girl! Her body is mine!” His chillingly sinister voice sobered Jacob right up as Y/n’s hand loosened its grip with the new angle she was in.

Harry began to fuck into her pussy rapidly. His groans grew louder as he railed her deep.

Y/n coughed out a moan, “The best cock I’ve ever had, Harry. Right there. You’re gonna make me fucking come. Don’t stop!”

Harry pushed his thumb into her ass as he plunged into her pussy repeatedly. Jacob was caught in fright, unable to move to speak as his own throbbing cock splashed his come all over his tummy so he was a wet sticky mess as he watched the pretty ghosts fucking between his legs.

“Shit!” Y/n reared back into Harry and gripped her hands over Jacob’s thigh, her nails digging into his skin.

The scene of Jacob lying untouched with come on his tummy and Y/n and Harry orgasming together was watched by the ghosts of the house as midnight meant it was Halloween morning.

When the pair had finished and were slowly moving together in their come down Y/n looked at Jacob with a pout, “Sorry, Jacob. You didn’t get the chance to feel my pussy around your tiny cock. My lover here kind of took over and you’re a bit of a bore.” She laughed as the dark shadows grew near to the bed.

Jacob turned his head as he saw the obscure silhouettes moving in and began to croak out in distress but his neck was sore and his voice was caught in his throat.

Harry pulled Y/n with him off the bed as the spirits descended over Jacob until there was no body left and Jacob’s fate was sealed into the house.

Y/n turned to Harry with a smile, “The morning has arrived. I can already hear the rest of them. They’ve come. Let’s go play.”

“Where are Rick and Jacob?” Cooper could see two suitcases opened but nothing was done. Candles were still wrapped in paper, the planchette was still inside, and nothing had been set up. “This house hasn’t been cleansed either. I’m going to need to prep it and set intentions here.”

Bran looked around the space and cupped his hands over his mouth, “Jacob! Rick! You guys here?”

Cooper quickly stood up and grasped Bran’s forearm, “Shhh! This isn’t your home. You cannot come in and act that way. You need to be respectful of those at rest.”

“No one’s at rest in this house. Can’t you feel it? Today is their holiday. They’re preparing for a party. A feast. They knew we were coming.”

Cooper sighed and turned to look behind her as Marin, one of Bran’s acquaintances, bent down to start pulling items out of one of the suitcases, “Well, either way, we need to get set. Russ is coming in with the table and I’ll bring the chairs down to the basement. We’ll have people coming soon.”

When Cooper saw the table leaning up against the outside of the house with the chairs next to it she knew right away something bad had happened. Rick and Jacob were meant to come and set up everything. Cleanse the house, set intentions, light candles, and have the table and chairs set and ready to go. It shouldn’t have taken long. Yet nothing had been done.

The last two invitees arrived as Cooper went from room to room with a candle and spoke a protective prayer, asking the spirits for their permission and to safeguard them from the evil that lurked.

She could feel the house as if it were alive. Every room had a story, a haunted retelling of the horrors that had happened over the years.

“I invoke light and pure intention. I am a clear and kind channel. Light is my guide. I will not harm and my request is for knowledge and safe passage.”

Cooper repeated her words as she descended the stairs to the main floor, already feeling the way the spirits in the home were at odds within. Some were receptive, some were not. She knew this could lead to trouble if everyone inside wasn’t on the same page. If they weren’t sensitive and receptive.

She lit candles to guide everyone into the basement of the home. The rest of the people who had been invited to join would be arriving shortly for the séance.

Bran, Marin, and Russ had set up the table and chairs, put the black cloth onto the table with candles in the corner, and Cooper’s old Ouija board and planchette atop.

She took a deep breath to center herself and felt the chill of the spirits all around.

“Bran?” She held her candle close to her heart as she stepped down into the basement and looked at the tall man.

Without responding to her verbally he turned to look at her. The shadows that cast over his face made it hard to see his expression.

“Jacob and Rick are still here. I can feel them. Maybe we can draw them out. I can’t tell if they’re alive or not.”

Bran nodded, “I can also feel them. I don’t know what happened but this house is full of darkness and despair. Are you open?”

Cooper nodded, “Yes. I feel the guiding of the good spirits here. I’m protected. You?”

Bran looked at a dark corner of the basement and back to Cooper, “I don’t know. I keep lighting that candle and it keeps getting blown out. Something here is trying to warn us.”

Marin suddenly ran into a chair and gasped, “What the fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Cooper rushed toward the young woman who shook her head in disbelief.

“Something just pulled me into that chair and whispered but I couldn’t understand. I… I’m okay. I think.”

Cooper looked down at the chair and back to Marin, “Have you spoken your intentions to the house? Are you protected?”

The young woman looked at Bran and then back to Cooper, “Protected from what?”

Cooper set her candle at the edge of the table and gazed toward Bran, “You told everyone about this house, correct? About its past? What to expect?”

Bran cleared his throat as three young men suddenly descended into the basement, laughing and speaking loudly.

Cooper pointed as she kept her eyes on Bran, “Who are they?”

Bran took Cooper’s arm and pulled her away from Marin, “Observers. I found a group who were interested in coming to watch.”

Cooper yanked her arm from Bran and walked toward the three men, “Excuse me, you three will need to leave. It’s not safe for you here. I’m sorry that you were misled–“

“Who are you?” One of the men laughed as he took in Cooper’s appearance wearing a shawl and hood as if she were some old witch.

Bran interrupted, “They’ve paid to be here. They’re not going anywhere, Cooper.”

“Paid? Why would you charge anyone? What are you trying to do here? This isn’t some game!”

“Calm down. Nothing will happen to them. I’ll see to it.”

Cooper scoffed and rubbed her hands over her face, “How many outsiders have you invited?”

“Just four.”

“Four outsiders? Bran, they can’t be here. Two of our own are already gone. Maybe dead.” Cooper began to raise her voice. She knew it was a bad idea to get Bran involved. She felt it from the beginning that he was up to no good. There were only meant to be eight people in total for the séance.

The fourth outsider made her way down as well as Russ and two of the others Cooper already knew.

“We can’t do this. Not like this.” Cooper rushed out her words and grabbed for her board at the center of the table but Bran stopped her, putting his hand over hers.

“We will. The show must go on. I can already feel them. They want to be heard.”

Cooper shoved Bran away, “You’re making a big mistake. I’m out. This is reckless.”

She wanted her board and her planchette but she could already tell the evil that resided in the house had already gotten Bran. He was channeling the dark and she needed to leave before it was too late.

As she took the stairs up to the main floor the basement door slammed closed and everyone in the basement had their attention on Cooper.

“No one leaves this home, Cooper. Don’t you understand? The spirits are already among us,” Bran’s voice crawled through the chilled air of the damp, dark basement and one of the outsiders laughed.

“Fuck. This is creepy as shit. Worth every penny.”

“My cellphone doesn’t work at all down here. Not even the camera. Dude! What kind of show is this?”

“It’s not a game! It’s not a show!” Cooper’s voice wavered as she held onto the banister and made her way back down the stairs to join the other 9. She already knew the house was locking them into the basement. She wouldn’t be getting out by turning the knob. It would be useless for her to attempt it.

Harry and Y/n watched from their shadowed corner with pleased smiles. Bran was right. No one would be leaving unscathed, if at all. The ten living souls trapped in the basement were now theirs.

“This is going to be fun,” Y/n whispered as they watched the humans gather around the table and another candle blew out.

“Shall we begin?” Bran spoke loudly. An old fixture above the table flickered on, casting light down over the board, making the edges of the room appear darker.

Evil had arrived. Cooper knew it and she knew some of the others could feel it as well.

“Everyone, welcome. Tonight, we are in the presence of greatness!” Bran’s voice boomed as he stood at the table and lifted his arms upward, the features on his face morphing as if he were a decrepit old man, “You will be witness to the experience of a real séance tonight. You may see or hear things that frighten you but if you stay connected with us and keep your mind open you are bound to enjoy yourself.“

“Stop!” Cooper shouted, “There is something evil here and the four outsiders are acting as skeptics,” she looked toward them and continued, “It’s breaking the bond we might have together and this is dangerous. I need to…” She lifted her candle blowing out the flame, “I bind you evil!” She sat her candle down and tore her shawl, ripping a long section off. With the candle in her hand, she began to wrap it with the torn material, “Evil spirits, trouble us no more. I bind you from doing harm to others or to yourself. Your actions will only be for the highest good.”

She repeated the chant as she wrapped the candle and one of the outsiders laughed quietly.

Bran slowly moved behind Cooper and placed a hand on her shoulder as she continued her binding spell, “Useless. The spirit is already here. You cannot stop it, Cooper.”

She could feel it was useless but she needed to try. Sitting the half-wrapped candle down she looked at everyone in the room, “Everyone! Take your candle and repeat after me,” she tilted her candle toward the one next to hers and relit the flame, “Repeat!”

“Elements of the sun, elements of the day, please come this way,” she looked around the room, and only a few repeated, “Please everyone. I need you to all repeat. This is a protection spell. You may find this funny but in just moments things will be getting very serious and this is the only thing I can do for you now. Please…”

Repeating the first part of the spell she noted that still only a few repeated, but she continued, “Powers of the night and day, I summon thee. I call upon thee to protect me!”

The three men who were last-minute invitees chuckled and whispered amongst themselves. The fourth outsider, a middle-aged woman, seemed to take Cooper’s instructions more seriously.

“Hold your candles up,” Cooper demonstrated and she heard Bran sigh as he walked around the group slowly, “I infuse the power of the flame so that it may burn away all negative energy. We pass through the smoke so that it may protect and shield this home.”

The sound of Bran clapping slowly drew attention back to him, “Are you quite done? It’s time to give the people what they’ve come for.”

Cooper knew her bindings weren’t going to work on everyone, if at all, but she had to try. She didn’t have the proper equipment in reach and now that four of the people in the room were skeptics it damaged the circle of empathy and the channel of openness.

“Come. Everyone, have a seat at the table. Let’s begin.”

All but the three young men seemed hesitant. Pulling up chairs and looking around the table Cooper knew this wasn’t going to go down how it had been planned. Cooper was meant to kick off the séance. She was supposed to be the medium, the vehicle for communication but it was clear that Bran was going to be doing it now.

“The spirits are already here trying to make contact. I want everyone in our circle to place a finger on the planchette,” Bran spoke as he touched the wooden stylus.

Everyone reached across the table, chairs dragging over the cement flooring closer to the table and fingers were placed on the planchette at Bran’s direction.

“Spirits, we are here. We are listening. I feel your energy all around. Give us guidance. Show yourself!”

Cooper closed her eyes and felt the chill of something along her back and breeze along her neck. Slowly, everyone in the circle began to gasp or mumble something under their breath about having felt the wind.

“Shit!” One of the guys laughed in surprise and turned in his chair to look behind himself.

“You,” Bran pointed at the man who had just laughed, “What is your name?”

Cooper could see the shadow behind him. Something, someone, was already there and it had already selected its first victim. It wasn’t a surprise that it would be a skeptic. A person who would not know they were being hunted. Ignorance is not always bliss.

“Fred,” he answered. The light above the table flickered softly and Cooper was surprised none of the outsiders found it odd that an old, abandoned house with no electricity had a light working. Marin’s face told Cooper she was absolutely terrified.

“He’s chosen you first,” Bran spoke darkly.

“What?” Fred laughed again and let go of the planchette.

“Do not let go from the circle!” Cooper shouted but it was too late. Suddenly Fred was pulled away from the table, his chair dragged into the dark shadow of the edge of the room and his cries for help were quieted nearly as soon as he had begun to scream.

The woman who had been sitting near the men started to panic, letting go of the circle and standing, “What is happening?”

“Don’t break from this circle! Keep your hands on this planchette. It’s the only thing we can do to protect you,” Cooper rushed out her warning.

One of the men got up from his chair and turned toward where Fred had been dragged, “Fred?”

“Please sit! Come back to the table!”

A candle that had been placed on the floor was suddenly illuminated and there were sharp inhales of breath and gasps as everyone in the room witnessed Fred’s limp body hanging from the ceiling.

“No! What the fuck?” The man turned to look at everyone at the table and pointed toward his lifeless friend, “What is this?”

The woman who was standing began to grasp her neck and struggle when a dark figure appeared behind her. She was being choked and pulled into the corner where Fred was hanging.

The third man stood and looked at Cooper, “This isn’t funny anymore.”

The overhead light flickered and illuminated everything behind the man and by the time everyone at the table could warn him, it was too late. The light fizzled out and then the room was left only lit by candles. The glimmer of the fire danced finickily on each of the wicks and cast an unstable glow over four outsiders who were hung in a row in the corner of the dark basement.

Gone.

There were only 6 left.

“Now that they’ve been taken out of the equation,” a strangely upbeat-sounding voice spoke. Raspy, dark, unmistakably male, “We can get down to business tonight.”

From the shadows appeared a tall young man with dark curls and nearly clear, jeweled eyes, and a young woman next to his side. Harry was pleased to be taking over this get-together.

Bran stood up and just as he was opening his mouth to speak Harry took the floor once again, “No need to speak. This won’t take too long. And the Ouija board’s not necessary. Contact is made. I am the spirit that dwells in this house. This is my domain and you all have trespassed.”

Everyone was stuck in silence as they watched the haunted pair near the table. They looked just as alive as everyone else there if you didn’t pay close attention. If you didn’t know better. But if you were someone like Cooper you could surmise that they were sinister beings. Not quite dead but certainly not alive.

“I apologize for trespassing,” Cooper spoke softly, “I tried clearing the energy and making my presence known in the most gentle–“

“You’re cute,” Y/n spoke with an eerie smile, “Nothing that happens in this house is nice or gentle. You’ll see soon.”

“You haven’t met spirits like us before, Cooper,” Harry stated, “But we’re so glad you couldn’t shake the call of the house. We knew you’d bring us some company. You did very well to listen.”

Cooper shook her head trying to wrap her thoughts around what they were telling her.

“We didn’t need the four extras,” Y/n commented, “But the house will make use of them.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Bran spoke finally, still standing in his spot as he looked at Harry.

Instead of responding Harry just smiled toward Bran as a shadow covered his face from above. The room was already dark but soon Bran’s figure was completely shrouded in darkness. His mouth opened wide to shout but no sound could be heard.

“That… that is what we are going to do with most of you.” Harry watched on as Bran’s face contorted and the darkness slowly pulled him from the table in silence. As if he was disintegrating into smoke.

“But why?!” Russ stood up and his metal chair fell back into the cement floor.

“Because it’s part of the deal,” Harry’s voice was dark as he began to pace slowly behind everyone at the table, “Angra requires sacrifice. The house needs life. We take care of the house and feed it with the souls of the living.”

“Angra,” Cooper spoke the name quietly to herself. She knew of Angra. Angra was a high deity of destruction. A demonic force of greed, wrath, sexual deviancy, and envy. And he was there in that home, and it was clear he was orchestrating everything from the handsome ghost, Harry.

“That’s right, Cooper,” Y/n smiled, “This is his playground, and Harry and I get to keep it all running like a well-oiled machine. It’s fun for all of us, really.”

Y/n pulled at Cooper’s hand suddenly, “Stand back,” she whispered as Cooper was moved away from the table.

The moment Cooper was out of the circle she felt a cottony soft cocoon surround her. Her arms were pressed down to her sides, her legs melded together, unable to bend or part, her mouth sealed closed, but her eyes and ears opened as she watched and heard every one of the people at the table struggle and scream when they were being dragged away by dark shadows until they disappeared.

Harry and Y/n only stood and watched with scary grins and hands intertwined. The flickering of the candles intensified and a howling wind blew through the basement and brushed over Cooper’s face before there was nothing but blackness and the smell of damp cement and smoke from blown-out wicks.

“You need to understand what’s going to happen now, Cooper,” Harry’s voice could be heard but he could not be seen. “You are bound to this house and you will not be able to deny your desire to return here every year.”

Finally, one candle was lit, and then a second one. Harry and Y/n each held a candle in their hands as they stood before Cooper.

“It’s going to follow you. It might take a week. Or maybe just a day or so, but you’ll recognize the scent, the draw, the torment,” Harry's disturbing words crawled over Cooper’s body. She was still unable to speak or move. “But you’ll get used to it and soon you’ll enjoy coming to visit us.”

“Oh, and maybe you can bring some really attractive people for us. Yeah? Because… Jacob and Rick? I mean…” Y/n laughed and her flame jumped as if her breaths were real, “We make due, but sometimes it’s nice to really enjoy the body before we give them over to the house.”

It didn’t make sense to Cooper, what the ghosts were telling her. She was frightened and desperate to escape but she was stuck.

“Are you ready to be released, Cooper? Are you ready to finally begin living, to finally be free of the mundane?” Harry grinned and suddenly the basement door at the top of the steps was shoved open and Cooper found herself dropped to the cold floor. There were no lights. No candles, no table or chairs. It was as if nothing had ever happened in the basement.

With shaky hands and limbs, she gathered herself and began to ascend the stairs, gripping the railing as tight as she could and looking behind her in search of the spirits or the bodies or anything that was after her.

But the moment her feet hit the wood floor beyond the basement door she ran toward the exit. The door was open and she rounded the corner and dashed to the front in a panic as she reached for her cell phone to call the police. Inside the house, her cell phone had been dead. But the moment she stepped out it functioned normally again.

The house looked so unassuming in the daylight. So old and in disrepair, but it didn’t appear anything like what it really was. And the daylight was surprising. Y/n was expecting it to only be around 1 in the morning but according to her cell phone, it was already 9:30. She must have passed out in the basement for hours before finally getting out of the house.

As she was questioned by the first cop on the scene she couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to stare at the house. She recalled the warning from Harry. That something would follow her. Something would continue to draw her to it.

She didn’t know why she was chosen but her fate was sealed. She was just glad she was still alive. Harry and Y/n were also glad she was still alive. They would be waiting.

The Halloween Call (can be read as a short follow up to this one shot)

Cop!Harry takes a call to check out the scene of crime at an old abandoned house, well known as the Slaughter House with a grim history.

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