#more than just them pining for each other

[keehomania]

party animal — rcm (18+)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smut, slowburn, pining, swearing, minors dni, reader’s surname is archibald bc it sounds expensive, super rich kids, slut-shaming, kook princess!reader, pre-buzzcut rafe, drug use, alcohol abuse, promiscuity, unprotected sex, reader has major daddy issues, rafe is lowkey obsessed, glazing the reader lol heavy serena van der woodsen vibes, rafe wants to fix her (he needs a therapist!)

you were a paradox, a contradiction wrapped in silk and sin—something meant to be divine but marred by every thorn that hell’s garden could offer. you reveled in it, though—the chaos, the pull of power, the way the world seemed to orbit around your smile. the thrill was intoxicating, the rush of watching people bend to your will like marionettes on fragile strings. if you wanted, they’d scrape gum from the soles of your designer heels, and you wouldn’t even need to say “please.” it wasn’t about malice; it was about the game. how far could you go before everything unraveled?

that’s why you came home late every night, long past the hour when even the shadows began to whisper secrets to each other. midnight had always been your threshold—swaying on the edge of your limits, drenched in vice. you carried the night with you like a perfume—martinis clinging to your breath, the ghost of cuban cigars still roughening your voice. your skin glistened under the harsh yellow glow of the porch light, the sweat and sin of your evening etched into your being.

sarah had been your constant, your touchstone in a life teetering between indulgence and destruction. she was supposed to anchor you, but even her goodness wasn’t immune to your sway. she let you in without question, her hand firm but gentle on your arm as she led you across the threshold. her boyfriend trailed behind, his words a muffled hum lost to the haze in your head as she whispered something you didn’t bother to catch.

you knew better than to stay, yet there you were, wrapped in tom ford and tequila, your gaze flickering in the dim light as you crossed the line you swore you wouldn’t touch again. this was mistake number one hundred, but this one felt different. this one was bigger. and you could already feel the weight of it pressing down on your chest, even as you smiled in the dark. god, how you wished you could take back time.

“shit, shit, shit,” you let out a long, high-pitched moan as your nails dug into the flesh of his chest, leaving everything from crescents to the presence of fresh blood from how hard you were clawing at him.

you threw your head back as you steadied yourself, his strong forearms wrapped around your knees as he spread them about, allowing him to meet your thrusts, his hips snapping forward as you moved at your own pace, bouncing, yours hands moving to push your hair back as your tits moved with every motion. “feel so good, rafe,” you slurred, leaning in and arching forward as you pressed your lips to his neck.

now, pause. was this bad? yes, this was very bad. not only were you drunk off your ass, but he was just as bad, if not worse, running on no sleep and booger sugar the way he usually did—maybe he was just wired that way. whatever the case was, he didn't care. he was enchanted, in a trance that he wasn't completely aware of—maybe it was the blow, he wanted it to be the coke more than anything, but he had a feeling it was more than that.

it had to do with the way you were moving, almost as if you were still at the club, dancing and swaying without a care in the world. had you always been like that? when did the kook princess conquer the underworld? he was panting, his mouth hanging open at the feeling of you squeezing, clenching around him like you were trying to milk everything he had to give—and you were. he let you kiss down his jaw, licking a stripe up his earlobe before moving down to his neck, nipping at the flesh and praying it wouldn't bruise.

“keep this up,” he hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching as his big, rough hands manhandled your hips, giving him all the leverage in the world as he kept thrusting, kept pounding into you like you were the only two people on the earth. “and i’m gonna fucking cum.”

you exhaled, something between a laugh and a moan passing your lips, ringing in his ears like a melody. “yeah, gonna cum?” you taunted, “gonna fill me up, cameron?” god, you were asking for it—begging for it, he was gonna nail you.

he pushed you back with a growl, leaning forward until his lips were perched around your nipple, teeth grazing the flesh of your tit as he muffled a guttural groan, fingers gripping the flesh of youe thighs as his dick throbbed. you could feel it pulsing inside you, twitching against your walls, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you sank down on his cock a final time. then, it was game over.

he moaned, loud and hard as he filled you up, milking the delicious grip your walls had around his cock as he continued to thrust, his cum spilling into you continuously, like he had an infinite amount of it in his balls, but he didn’t and, eventually, it did end.

it ended with you collapsing beside him, panting as you fought for oxygen. you wiped the sweat from your forehead as you panted, coming down from your high and absolutely refusing to look him in the eye—at all, really. he turned to glance at you, sweat sticking to the loose, thin bangs that grazed his forehead. he gulped, unsure of what to say as he took in the sight of you, unsure if he should say anything at all, and he didn't. he was too afraid to, but he’d never admit that out loud. he wasn't the type that got scared, intimidated, nothing of the sort. so, why was he suddenly quiet?

he was supposed to be the one to tell you to get up, to grab your clothes, and to get the fuck out of his room, but the words didn't come out. he was supposed to hear you talk about enjoying long walks on the beach, wanting something serious, something more than a quickie at three in the morning, but you didn’t. you didn’t beg for him to look at you as something more than just his friend, sarah’s best friend. instead, you turned around, pulling a blanket over your naked body, and went to sleep.

the pounding in your head was merciless, splitting your skull into jagged thirds as you groaned softly, pressing a hand to your temple. everything was blurry—the sunlight cutting through the blinds too sharp, the stale remnants of last night’s debauchery clinging to your skin like a brand. you blinked, once, twice, trying to piece together the fragments of memory that refused to align. but when the realization hit, it slammed into you like a freight train. your breath hitched. rafe. naked. asleep.

the room—the white walls, the overflowing closet, the faint trace of white powder on the desk—left no room for doubt. this was his room. and you had slept with him.

“dumbass,” you muttered under your breath, smacking your palm against your forehead like it could somehow erase the memory. “dumbass. dumbass. dumbass.”

you scrambled to your feet, fumbling for the crumpled dress discarded near the bed. your hands shook as you tugged it on, the silk clinging to your skin like guilt. your heels weren’t hard to find, their straps a sharp contrast against the chaos of his room. quietly, you tiptoed to the door, heart thundering with the weight of your actions. what the hell had you done? you tried to steady yourself, convincing your mind that it wasn’t the end of the world. rafe wasn’t the sentimental type. he moved from girl to girl like a chess master with no endgame, and you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with that strategy yourself. if anything, this was just another misstep, a shared mistake that wouldn’t—couldn’t—ruin your friendship.

but god, the thought of sarah finding out, of topper’s smug comments and kelce’s relentless teasing, made your stomach churn.

you reached the kitchen, relief washing over you like a cold shower—until you saw her. standing by the counter, sipping orange juice, her messy blonde hair and pinched expression screaming hangover.

“hey,” you croaked, your voice raspier than you intended.

she barely glanced at you, waving her hand dismissively. “jesus, stop screaming,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

you rolled your eyes, slipping into a stool and squeezing her shoulder. “sorry, mom, i’ll use my inside voice,” you whispered with a smirk. “what? john b keep you up with his john d?”

her eyes narrowed, a faint smile twitching at her lips. “oh, you so cannot be talking,” she shot back, draining her glass in one go. “you did my brother, so that totally makes us sisters-in-law.”

your heart stopped. “keep it down, you psycho,” you hissed, swatting her arm. “you totally hazed me last night. this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t dragged john b along.”

sarah shrugged, not even bothering to hide her grin. “and what now? gonna ditch the club-night stands and get with my brother?” she teased, her tone as light as the smirk she shot you.

“as if,” you scoffed, pouring her another glass of juice. “i’m getting tested for chlamydia after this.”

her brow lifted in mock surprise. “damn, this is a first. usually, the girls beg me to hook them up with rafe.”

you shook your head, wagging a finger at her. “absolutely not. you know me,” you said firmly, and she did. “rafe’s my friend. known him since he was hoarding cereal box comics. so, this? It never happened.”

sarah laughed, leaning back against the counter. “man, he’s totally gonna brag to top and kels,” she said with a mischievous glint. “not everyone gets to nail the kook princess.”

rolling your eyes, you snatched your keys off the counter, leaning in to hug her. “you’re real peachy, aren’t you?” you teased, hand darting down to slap her ass. “i’m out, babe. pick you up tonight for the bonfire?”

“wear something cute,” she called after you, shaking her head with a grin as she watched you leave.

the engine of your corvette roared to life, a deep, satisfying hum that vibrated through your chest and momentarily distracted you from the chaos in your head. you leaned back against the leather seat, gripping the wheel as last night’s events replayed in fragmented flashes. the tequila, the dim haze of rafe’s room, the feel of his hands on your skin—it all came rushing back like a tidal wave, making your cheeks burn with equal parts shame and disbelief.

“what the hell were you thinking?” you muttered, shaking your head as you pulled out of sarah’s driveway.

the quiet streets were still sleepy, the morning sun casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. you drove a few blocks, the rhythmic rumble of the engine filling the silence as you tried to piece everything together. but no matter how hard you tried, it all felt surreal, like something out of a dream you couldn’t quite shake. when you finally pulled into your own driveway, the sight of your familiar front porch brought a strange sense of relief. this was home, your sanctuary—empty for now, thanks to your mother’s work trip. thank god for small miracles; she would’ve flipped her perfectly groomed, suburban lid if she’d seen you walk in smelling like bad decisions and luxury cologne.

sliding out of the car, you groaned softly, your palm meeting your forehead for what felt like the hundredth time. “dumbass,” you whispered again, scolding yourself as you made your way inside.

the house was quiet, sunlight spilling through the windows in soft golden streaks. you kicked off your heels near the door, leaving a trail of discarded items on your way to the bathroom. the cool tile against your bare feet was grounding as you stepped into the shower, twisting the knob until a hot, steamy cascade poured over you. you closed your eyes, letting the water wash away the remnants of last night—the sweat, the guilt, the lingering scent of rafe’s cologne clinging to your skin like a bad memory. your hands worked through your hair, fingers scrubbing at your scalp as you tried to scrub him out of your mind.

but he lingered, even as the water ran clear and you stepped out, wrapping a plush towel around yourself. you moved mechanically, toweling your hair dry before running a brush through the damp strands, blow-drying them until they fell in soft waves around your shoulders. a light layer of makeup followed��just enough to cover the shadows under your eyes and add a touch of color to your lips.

you opened your closet, scanning the rows of neatly hung clothes until your fingers landed on the white sundress. it was simple, elegant, hugging your curves in all the right places while leaving your tan lines exposed—reminding you of sun-soaked days that felt like a lifetime ago. you slipped it on, adjusting the hem before layering yourself with delicate gold jewelry: a thin chain around your neck, dainty hoops, and a few stacked bracelets.

the white heels completed the look, their sleek design elongating your legs as you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror. you looked put together, polished, even if you felt like a hurricane on the inside.

as you walked back out of the house, locking the door behind you, the corvette gleamed in the driveway. climbing back into the driver’s seat, you started the engine, the rumble a familiar comfort. last night was still a tangle of confusion in your mind, but as you pulled onto the road, you pushed it to the back of your thoughts. you had errands to run, a day to salvage, and a version of yourself to piece back together before anyone else caught on to how close you were to falling apart.

sarah wiped down the countertop with a slow, deliberate motion, her lips curving into a small smile as she thought about you. not with jealousy—she could never bring herself to feel that way about you—but with a kind of admiration that only years of friendship could cultivate. you had always been a force of nature, unpredictable and unrelenting.

you were the girl who punched cindy lopez in the nose for calling sarah stupid in third grade, who bought her her first vogue magazine when her parents refused to indulge her interest in fashion, who never hesitated to stand by her, no matter what. sarah knew, deep down, that nothing could ever truly take you away from her.

“hey.” the familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts. she turned, her eyes landing on her brother as he sauntered into the kitchen. his hair was tousled, his eyes slightly bloodshot, and his expression unreadable.

“morning,” sarah greeted, fighting the urge to laugh. “some night you had.”

rafe ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze as he moved toward the fridge. “she left,” he stated, his voice flat, though sarah could hear the faint edge to it. “they usually don’t.”

rafe shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting the cap off. he took a long sip before sitting at the kitchen island, his gaze distant. “yeah, well, she’s a free spirit,” sarah said, leaning against the counter. she studied his face carefully, noticing the subtle tension in his jaw. “you’re cool with that, right?”

“yeah, yeah, yeah,” rafe said quickly, almost too quickly. he shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers against the counter as if to distract himself. “she’s a—she’s a good friend. shouldn’t be too bad.”

sarah tilted her head, suppressing a smirk as she moved some dishes around the sink. “congrats, by the way. you nailed the kildare princess. topper’s totally gonna be jealous.”

rafe raised an eyebrow, finally looking up at her. “top?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes narrowing slightly.

sarah nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “yeah, god, he’s had a crush on her forever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “don’t rub it in too much, though. i was totally rooting for them.”

rafe tapped his foot against the tile, his brows furrowing as he processed this. “yeah? And, uh, how does she feel about him?” he asked, keeping his tone even.

sarah shrugged, pondering the question for a moment. “i have no idea. no one knows what she’s thinking—not even me,” she admitted with a small laugh. “she’s a free spirit, like i said. she doesn’t take guys seriously. guess it has something to do with her dad. whatever it is, a guy couldn’t fix her with two hands and a toolbox, so be grateful she isn’t begging for your attention.”

rafe nodded slowly, her words sinking in. he leaned back in his chair, wiping his face with his hands as he considered what she’d said. it didn’t sit right with him—the way you had left without a second glance, the way you hadn’t even seemed to care about what had happened between you. he was used to a certain kind of response from the girls he spent the night with—flirty texts, coy smiles, maybe even the occasional attempt to cling to him. but you? you’d left like it was nothing, like he was nothing. it bothered him. more than it should have. but rafe cameron had always liked a challenge.

the roar of your corvette’s engine echoed as you pulled into the car wash, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel in a rhythm that betrayed your nerves. the ache in your head hadn’t dulled, and you silently cursed yourself for not grabbing an aspirin before you left the house. a drink sounded tempting too—something strong enough to quiet your thoughts about last night.

as you drove into the bay, a figure approached your car, a man in a black cap pulled low over his brow. his gait was confident, but as he got closer, you noticed the slight hesitation in his step. early twenties, give or take, with sun-kissed skin and broad shoulders, he leaned down to meet your gaze through the window.

“hey, do you need your tires polished—” he stopped mid-sentence, his voice faltering as his eyes widened. recognition lit up his face as his jaw slackened slightly.

“top?” you asked, rolling your window down with a grin.

a smile broke across his face, wide and sheepish, as he tugged the cap off his head, running a hand through his hair. “hey,” he stammered, his voice boyish and endearing. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” you replied with a chuckle. “what’s this? early career change?”

he laughed nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “nah, it’s my uncle’s shop. just helping him out for the summer,” he explained, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “it’s, uh, it’s really good to see you.”

you smiled warmly. “it’s good to see you too, top.”

the moment lingered for a beat longer than necessary, his gaze holding yours before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

“so, what’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing to the car.

“just getting her ready for the bonfire tonight,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “won’t take up too much of your time.”

topper shook his head quickly, his grin returning. “you’re not wasting my time,” he said, almost too earnestly. “i’ll get started—on the house.”

you frowned, leaning forward. “come on, top. you know i can pay.”

he waved you off, his grin widening. “yeah, but you won’t.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “fine, but i owe you a drink or two tonight.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice lighter, more confident now.

as he turned to get to work, you watched him for a moment, appreciating the way his shoulders moved as he grabbed the hose. he was efficient, his movements precise, but his composure faltered when his eyes drifted back to you through the window. he tried to stay focused, but you caught the way his gaze lingered on your collarbone, the golden jewelry adorning your neck, and the soft curve of the sundress that hugged your body. his jaw tightened as his eyes trailed lower, taking in the tan lines just visible above the hem of your dress. topper had it bad. real bad.

the errands had eaten away your day, the sun already dipping low in the sky by the time you were done. time had flown by faster than you realized, but the anticipation bubbling in your chest made you brush it off. you drove down the familiar block, the hum of the corvette’s engine smoothing your thoughts as you spotted the estate. pulling to the curb, you honked the horn twice, leaning out the window with a grin.

“get in, loser, we’re getting wasted,” you called out, watching as sarah appeared in the doorway, slipping into a pair of sandals.

behind her, rafe hovered like a shadow, his tall frame taking up the doorway. he muttered something to his sister—something about seeing her at the bonfire—but his eyes weren’t on her. they were on you. your stomach twisted, caught between the weight of his gaze and the awkwardness of the situation. shit, what was he supposed to do? wave? say hi? stay quiet? he settled on a wave, though the moment his hand lifted, his confidence faltered. the wave was awkward, hesitant, and he regretted it instantly.

you winced for him, forcing a half-hearted wave back, just as awkward, until the sound of the passenger door slamming shut snapped you out of it.

“romeo, romeo, where art thou, fair romeo?” sarah teased as she tossed herself into the seat, kicking her legs up and reaching for your playlist without hesitation.

“good to see you too, princess,” you mused, rolling your eyes.

she shrugged, her teasing smirk softening as her eyes swept over you, taking in the white sundress that clung to your frame. “you look good,” she said, her tone genuine for once. “you look good in white.”

a smile tugged at your lips as you shifted the car into drive. “you look good in everything,” you shot back smoothly, earning a laugh from her.

the drive to the bonfire was pure summer magic, the kind of ride where the windows were down, and the air smelled like salt and heat. music blared from the speakers as you and sarah sang along, her feet resting on the dashboard as the wind whipped her hair around her face. the sky burned in hues of orange and pink, melting into a deepening blue as the sun dipped lower.

the road opened up to the party grounds, and it was clear the bonfire was just the centerpiece of something much larger. the expansive courtyard buzzed with life, groups of people laughing and chatting, while the glow of string lights gave the scene a warm, golden hue. to the side, a makeshift bar was already busy with activity, and further back, you could see the well-manicured green of a golf field illuminated by soft lighting.

you pulled into valet parking, handing over the keys with practiced ease as sarah slid out of the car beside you. without thinking, your hand dropped to hers, fingers brushing for just a moment before she let out an exaggerated groan.

“oh, god,” she muttered under her breath.

“what?” you asked, already bracing yourself for the mess. seriously, it’s been, what? 10 seconds?

you turned your head and saw him—john b routledge, weaving his way toward you with that signature grin of his. he didn’t even hesitate, wrapping sarah in a hug the moment he reached her.

“hey,” he greeted you casually, though his attention was clearly focused on sarah.

you didn’t reply. instead, you met sarah’s gaze over his shoulder, your expression speaking louder than words. “routledge. mind if i steal her? thanks.” you didn’t even wait for a response.

as he pulled back, you leaned in close to sarah, your voice low enough that only she could hear. “he does or says anything, you get bored, anything goes flat—you call me, text me, i’ll be there, okay?”

she nodded, her lips curving into a smile. “god, you’re the best,” she said, throwing her arms around you for a quick hug.

you shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “i know.” and then, with a bounce in her step, she was off, disappearing into the crowd with her boyfriend.

the bar wasn’t far, but the walk to it felt like something out of a movie. you didn’t notice it at first—the way heads turned, eyes lingering on you like you’d stepped out of some dream. the last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees and string lights, casting a warm, golden glow that seemed to follow you. It was as if the sun itself had decided to pause, just for a moment, to watch you move through the courtyard.

when you reached the bar, you slid onto one of the stools, crossing your legs and leaning forward just enough to signal that you meant business. the bartender looked up from his station, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he approached.

“miss archibald,” he greeted smoothly, his voice carrying just enough warmth to feel personal but still professional.

of course he knew your name—everyone did. kildare was a small county, and its residents loved their local legends. you’d been a sensation for years, the name whispered with awe and envy, your life dissected by those who had nothing better to do. table dancing in barcelona? they’d seen the photos. a whirlwind fling with a celebrity? they’d read the headlines. you couldn’t decide if the attention was a blessing or a curse.

“hey, trent,” you replied casually, your gaze flicking to his name tag, even though you already knew it.

“what’ll it be tonight?”

“don julio, chilled,” you said, pulling your wallet out with ease. you layered a crisp hundred-dollar bill with a few twenties and then added a little extra for him, sliding it across the counter without a second thought.

he raised an eyebrow but accepted the tip without comment, reaching for the top shelf. “haven’t seen you around in a bit,” he mused as he grabbed the tequila. “get yourself a boyfriend?”

the question made your skin crawl, though you masked it with a polite smile. “not in the slightest,” you replied, your tone light but firm enough to shut the topic down.

he nodded, as if that were the answer he’d expected, and set to work. within moments, he placed a chilled bucket on the counter, along with a neat arrangement of shot glasses, lemon wedges, and salt.

“here you go,” trent said with a grin, stepping back to give you space.

finally, you could relax. you exhaled slowly, letting the buzz of the courtyard fade into the background as you eyed the setup before you. the tequila gleamed like liquid gold in the bucket, and you reached for a glass, savoring the moment. tonight, at least for now, was yours. or so you believed, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. the joy was short-lived.

you turned at the light tap on your shoulder, eyebrows raising in curiosity before your lips curved into a familiar grin. there he was, his blond hair slightly messy, his signature smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you look like you could use a drinking buddy,” jj maybank said, his voice laced with that casual charm that never failed to make people smile.

you leaned back against the stool, crossing one leg over the other as you looked him over. “what are you doing here, j? still crashing our parties?” you teased, your tone light but warm.

he chuckled, sliding onto the stool beside you, his movements as relaxed as ever. “what can i say? i keep coming back. think it’s for the women,” he shot back, his eyes trailing down to where your legs crossed before flickering back to your face.

“some luck they have,” you replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow as you poured yourself another shot.

jj whistled low as he noticed the bottle. “don julio? act a foolio?” he quipped, grabbing a glass for himself.

you smirked, pouring him a shot. “savor it, maybank. you’re drinking two hundred bucks.”

he laughed, leaning back on the stool and looking skyward. “huh, i thought houses cost that much. or is it just mine? just mine? okay.”

you swatted him lightly on the chest, shaking your head as you laughed. his grin widened, and he leaned closer, resting his elbow on the bar. “how about a drinking game?”

your curiosity piqued, and you raised an eyebrow. “oh, yeah? what’s your angle?”

jj grinned like a cat with a canary. “simple. i take a shot, tell you a secret. you take a shot, tell me a secret. loser has to outdrink the other.”

you stared at him, your lips twitching with amusement. “smooth operator, aren’t you?”

he tilted his head, his grin unfaltering. “when it works, it works.”

you tipped your glass back, the tequila smooth and icy as it slid down your throat. setting it down with a soft clink, you thought for a moment before a sly smile spread across your lips. “alright, remember last summer when i went to spain? that article about my celebrity hookup?”

jj nodded, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “oh, hell yeah. don’t tell me it was a kardashian or some shit.”

you smirked, leaning in slightly. “pablo gavira. nightclub. barcelona.”

his jaw dropped, and then he burst into laughter, slapping the bartop. “holy shit, congrats, it girl. you lived the dream of every fourteen-year-old girl out there!”

you rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips. “shut up, you ass. your turn,” you urged, gesturing for him to take his shot.

jj grinned, taking the glass and throwing back the tequila in one swift motion. as he set the glass down, he leaned in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “okay, remember last month when john b’s board mysteriously went missing?”

you groaned, already sensing trouble. “jj, what did you do?”

he shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “sold it to a tourist for three hundred. used the cash to buy everyone drinks at the wreck. including your best friend, by the way.”

your eyes widened in mock horror. “diabolical.”

he laughed, that carefree sound that was so uniquely him. “hey, the guy wanted something ‘authentic.’ i gave him authentic.”

you shook your head, pouring another round. “you’re the worst, maybank.”

“and yet, here you are,” he teased, his grin infectious as he raised his glass for another round.

you stared down the shot glass, your mind racing for a secret that would blow jj’s offbeat humor right out of the water. you had your reputation—hell, you had a treasure chest full of scandals to pull from. but this? this had to be a knockout. something so jaw-dropping, so absolutely wrong that it would leave even jj maybank momentarily speechless. and then it hit you.

you set the glass down with a soft clink, leaning toward him, your lips curling into a devious grin. “guess who i slept with last night.”

his head snapped toward you, his interest piqued as he leaned in, matching your grin with his own. “sarah,” he shot back instantly, smirking like he already knew the answer.

you rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “i wish,” you groaned dramatically. then, you paused for effect, letting the tension build before delivering the bombshell. “rafe.”

jj froze. for a moment, it was as if his entire system short-circuited, his jaw dropping in an expression that was equal parts horror and hilarity. then he hissed, bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “you’re joking,” he choked out between gasps, his face twisting in disbelief.

you shook your head solemnly, a hand over your heart. “i wish i was. i was drunk, he was high. it just happened.”

he leaned back, clutching his stomach as he cackled. “and they say romance is dead,” he wheezed before shaking his head in mock disapproval. “dude, you had sex with your friend. big no-no. and your friend is a total whore. what if he caught feelings? you be up for a change of pace?”

you nearly choked on the air you inhaled too sharply. “big no,” you said firmly, your voice rising slightly. “and with that psycho? he’d snap my neck in a heartbeat if he was coked up enough.”

jj shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of tequila. “that’s your type, though. let’s face it. you like ‘em hot and stupid, and that’s all rafe is.” he broke into another fit of laughter, the image clearly amusing him to no end.

you narrowed your eyes, leaning toward him. “hey, i don’t go for psychopaths that shoot cops, dude.”

jj winced, his head swiveling as he glanced around. “allegedly,” he corrected, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “not so loud, psycho. besides, you like your men deranged.”

you scoffed, throwing back another shot. “yeah, that’s what I need. a strung-out psycho blasting big syke while he beats my ass.”

jj’s laughter came to an abrupt halt as he stared at you, his brow furrowed in mock thought. “really? pegged him more as a tupac kind of guy.”

you chuckled, leaning in close with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “you know, i should fix him up. do some psychoanalysis-type shit. make him a good boy,” you joked.

jj nearly fell off his stool, laughing so hard that tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “is that it, bob the builder? you wanna fix me up next?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

you cooed, shaking your head as you rested a hand on his shoulder. “no way, babe. i like you just the way you are. damaged goods.”

he faked a gasp, clutching his chest as if you’d physically wounded him. “who said these goods were damaged?”

“your track record,” came a voice behind you.

you froze, your entire body stiffening at the familiar sound. slowly, almost as if you could delay the inevitable, you turned in your seat, dreading the sight you knew you’d find. and there he was. his expression was unreadable, a mix of calm and something far darker lurking just beneath the surface. those piercing blue eyes bore into you, not leaving yours for a second.

jj let out a low whistle under his breath, muttering, “well, shit.”

you forced a polite smile as you turned to face him, though the tension in the air was as palpable as the heat rising in the room. “hey,” you greeted, trying to diffuse the moment with your usual charm.

you leaned forward to give him a quick hug, a friendly one, but as your arms wrapped around him, you could feel the shift in his breath, the way it caught in his throat as he inhaled deeply. his chest rose and fell just a little too sharply, his lips brushing the side of your neck as you pulled back. that warm, expensive scent of yours seemed to linger in the air, and for a brief moment, you thought you might have made things a bit too personal between the two of you.

but then, you pulled away, turning to greet the others, pushing the awkwardness aside. topper and kelce were already there, practically vibrating with excitement. you smiled and reached out to hug them both. “top, kels,” you said warmly. “you guys want a drink?”

kelce’s grin stretched wide, his enthusiasm unmistakable. “shit, don julio? there’s our money maker,” he cheered, sliding into one of the stools like it was his own personal throne.

topper, on the other hand, didn’t look as enthused anymore. his eyes flickered, darting between you and jj, the conflict visible in the furrow of his brow. you caught the shift, but decided to address it in a way that wouldn’t rock the boat too much.

rafe’s voice sliced through the silence, sharp and demanding. “what’s the pogue doing here?”

jj raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin pulling at his lips. “don’t shoot, just came for a drink,” he teased, the smirk never wavering from his face.

topper shot him a look, one that practically oozed disdain, his tone a little too biting as he quipped, “yeah, we can see that.” he slid a glance at you, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “bar’s full of stools. sit somewhere else.”

the words stung, but jj shrugged them off with practiced ease as you threw an arm around his shoulders as if to claim him as your own for the moment. “you guys are way too sober,” you joked, giving them a mock warning. “be nice.”

jj’s eyes briefly met rafe’s, just a flicker of something passing between them, something loaded with a challenge. and for that brief second, it was like the world stood still, the air thick with competition. but then jj’s smirk widened, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer to him. “some friends you have,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “haven’t even complimented your dress.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, but he held his ground. he didn’t even know why he was angry, but the sight of jj with his arm around you was a slap in the face. he wanted to believe that it was because jj was a pogue, on kook territory, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

“the dress is beautiful, looks great on her, probably real expensive,” rafe said, his voice suddenly tight, eyes flicking pointedly to where jj’s arm was draped around you. “so get your dirty-ass pogue hands off it.”

the words hit hard, but you weren’t about to let the tension build any further. raising both your hands in a surrendering gesture, you rolled your eyes. “okay, rafe, enough. we get it, he’s a pogue,” you said, your tone light but firm. “just chill out.”

rafe scoffed, a bitter edge to his laugh. as he passed by you, he paused and slammed his shoulder against jj’s, the force enough to make the stool wobble. he shot a look over his shoulder, his gaze hard. “paparazzi’s out in front,” he said, his words dripping with something darker. “try not to get sloppy.” ouch.

the air grew heavier as the boys found their places at the bar, settling down on the stools opposite you. you could feel their eyes on you, heavy and lingering, like they were trying to decipher something beneath the surface. kelce groaned, and the sound was unmistakable—hunger, wrapped in something almost reverential. his eyes raked over you, from your heels all the way up to the way your hair cascaded down your back, messy but perfectly styled.

“she looks fly as hell,” he muttered, swishing his beer bottle absentmindedly. his gaze dropped lower. “legs like that could give victoria's secret a run for their money.”

topper scoffed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, turning to kelce with a sharp look. “dude, back off,” he snapped, though there was a flicker of agreement in his eyes. he glanced at rafe, who was quietly sipping his own beer, a glint of something darker in his gaze.

rafe rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. he slouched back in his stool, taking another swig from his bottle. “you guys are cracked out,” he muttered dismissively, but then he added something they weren’t expecting. “that’s a low-value woman.”

“what the fuck did you say?” topper shot up, his voice harsh, his fist slamming the bottle down onto the counter with a force that startled a few patrons nearby. the shock in his voice was palpable, and even kelce's usual laid-back demeanor had faltered.

rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his demeanor almost too calm for what he had just said. “you’ve read the articles. she likes the attention. jumping from one guy to another, type shit,” he said, his words clipped, colder than the beer in his hand.

kelce and topper exchanged a glance, their confusion turning to something more, but kelce was the first to speak. “she’s our friend, dude,” he said, his voice lower now, softer. he paused before adding, “and besides, what does that make you? hazardous waste disposal in your pants.” kelce dapped topper up, short and quick.

rafe scoffed, the sound harsh as he ran a hand through his hair, the aggression simmering just under the surface. he looked over at the two of them, a hint of mockery curling his lips. “shoot your shot then, top,” he taunted, raising his bottle in a mocking toast. “let’s see how you’ll feel when you see her flashing the paparazzi.”

topper’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly, but the tension wasn’t just between him and rafe anymore. he could feel it, the way the balance was starting to shift. and for a split second, you caught rafe’s gaze flicking over toward you. it wasn’t subtle, the way his eyes followed you, the way they locked onto the easy intimacy you shared with jj. the hand on your thigh, your smile—as if you didn’t have sex with him the night before. and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, rafe seemed to tighten, like a rope pulled too taut.

before it could build into something more, rafe exhaled, the tension in his shoulders giving way slightly. his eyes softened for a brief second before his face hardened again, and he slapped a hand onto topper and kelce’s backs, breaking the thick silence.

“come on,” he finally muttered, the words almost too quiet to catch, his voice rough, but there was a finality to it. “let’s get laid.”

the night blurred together in a haze of tequila, smoke, and too many shallow breaths. the bottle of tequila was gone—an impressive feat, even for you—but the dull ache in your skull and the growing warmth in your chest only made you crave more. you’d been warned, right? rafe had said it, the same way they always did, but his words bounced off you like the cheap music playing overhead. you thought of him dancing with the girl, the way he smiled, fake and carefree. the kind of smile that had always made you ache before you started pretending it didn’t. the thing was, he was just like you, right? just another person trying to fill a hole, trying to make sense of it all. but there was no humor in it when you smiled at him from across the room, only condescension.

you turned your back on him and back to jj. he was leaning back in his chair, lazily flipping the joint between his fingers. the dim light from the courtyard highlighted the sharp lines of his face, the messiness of his hair, and the careless way he seemed to fit into his world. you didn’t think you’d ever met someone who wore chaos like that, but there was something almost magnetic about it. he caught your eye and smirked as he took the joint from his lips.

“oh, you shouldn’t have,” you cooed, leaning in and snatching it from him, pressing it to your own lips. you didn’t need his permission, not anymore. you hadn’t needed it for a long time.

“major pretty privilege,” jj teased, his voice low but amused. “totally would've kicked your ass if you weren't—” he let the sentence trail off as you took a long drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke curled between your lips and into the air.

you exhaled slowly, the smoke filling your lungs with a warmth that dulled everything else. “i’m a scandal away from a nose job,” you mused, half laughing as you watched him.

he grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand casually rested on your thigh. “i wouldn’t be so quick to joke about that,” he said with a smirk. but there was something softer in his voice, almost like he was trying to keep the conversation light. it didn’t matter. it never did.

you leaned back, staring at the stars above you, but it was hard to focus on them. the weight in your chest grew heavier, suffocating, like the world was closing in. you hated how it felt. how much you wanted to simply not exist, to disappear, even if only for a moment. you wanted to leave your body behind, to step outside of this mess you called life and pretend you were someone else. someone who didn’t need any of this, someone who didn’t feel like they were drowning in the way their own heart beat.

jj watched you, the flickering glow of the joint between his fingers casting shadows on his face. “lost in thought, princess?” his voice pulled you back into the moment. “already tapping out?”

you forced a smile, shaking your head as you took another hit from the joint. “the night is young,” you said, your words a little more slurred now, but that didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the rhythm of the music and the way your heart felt like it was pounding in sync with the bass.

somehow, that was how you ended up pressed up against him in the courtyard, your body swaying with his, your hips grinding against his front. his hands were on your waist, holding you tightly as if he didn’t care about anything else. you could feel the heat between you, thick and intoxicating, and you didn’t even have to think about it. the rest of the world? it didn’t matter. you could feel the eyes of others on you—the way their gazes flicked over you and jj, maybe in appreciation, maybe in jealousy. it didn’t matter. all you cared about was this moment, this feeling of losing yourself.

jj groaned, his breath warm against your ear as his lips brushed the skin just beneath it. “you’re asking for trouble,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t quite place.

“i know what i’m asking for,” you replied, your voice low as you pressed harder against him. his hands tightened on your hips, squeezing in a way that made your head spin, your breath catching in your throat.

and yet, far away from you, there was rafe. his hands were wrapped around another girl, his eyes dark and distant. he didn’t know her—hell, he didn’t care to—but he had her close, like a shield, something to keep the world at bay. and still, his gaze drifted toward you, the same way it always did. you were just a magnet for him, weren’t you? the pull between you both was a constant, but tonight, it felt different. as his eyes locked onto yours, watching you dance with jj, something shifted. his stomach churned uncomfortably, the world spinning in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. how could you be so shameless?

rafe’s thoughts turned bitter as his eyes flicked over your body, watching you grind against jj in a way that made his jaw tighten, but he couldn’t look away. you were impossible. you didn’t give a shit about the rules. you were different. how had you not crumbled under the weight of it all? you were spinning out of control, and somehow, that made you even more dangerous. he wanted to stop watching, wanted to tear his gaze away from you. but something inside him wouldn't let him. he couldn’t understand you. not now, not ever. and so he just watched. because that was all he could do.

the air in the bathroom felt thick with heat, suffocating, and charged with an electricity that had been building between you and jj all night. you barely had time to process it before you were pinned against the wall, his hands keeping your arms pressed against the cold tile as his lips moved urgently against yours. the sound of his soft grunt vibrated between you both as he kissed you deeper, a teasing hunger in his touch that matched the fire burning inside you.

you could feel the hard, insistent press of his dick against your knee, the way your body seemed to react of its own accord. without thinking, you pushed your knee upward, letting it graze against him, offering him just enough friction to make him groan lowly, his grip on you tightening in response.

the moment was stolen, heat building between you both in a whirl of urgency, until he suddenly released your hands, his arms lifting you up effortlessly. you gasped slightly as he placed you on the edge of the sink, his strong hands spreading your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his as his lips trailed down your neck. the sensation of his breath against your skin made you shiver, and you let out a soft whimper, your fingers finding refuge in his hair, pulling him closer.

his teeth grazed your neck in the most tantalizing way, making your head spin. “should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured between soft kisses, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, but there was a subtle hunger in his voice that made your heart race.

you tilted your head back, trying to steady yourself, letting out a breathless laugh as you tugged his hair, forcing him to look up at you. “yeah? should’ve asked nicely. i’m a nice girl.”

his lips curled into a wicked grin, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. “real nice girl. nice girls like you get rewards.” the sound of his voice, the heat in his words, almost made you forget everything else. you felt his hands press into your ass, squeezing, fingers teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

but then, just as quickly as the moment had built, it all came crashing down with an unpleasant, distinctly loud sound—a harsh gag, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. you both froze, the spell broken, and for a moment, you felt disoriented as reality quickly snapped back into place. you heard the retching, the splashing of liquid against porcelain.

“rafe?” you called out, your voice tentative, already bracing yourself for the inevitable. you stepped away from jj, quickly pulling the straps of your dress back up. “you okay?”

you found him hunched over the toilet, his face pale, sweat slicking his skin as he heaved. the sight of him was almost comical, in a way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. you rushed over to him, placing a hand on his back to steady him. he was breathing heavily, but still had enough energy to shoot you a look.

“peachy,” he grimaced, sarcasm dripping from his words as he threw up again.

you sighed, looking over at jj, who was still lingering by the doorway. he caught your eye, and you didn’t need to say anything. he gave a small, understanding nod. “i’ll call you,” he said, his tone soft, but there was a lingering playfulness to his words. you wanted to say something in response, something like “please don’t,” but the words stuck in your throat. the moment felt too fragile, too much of a mess for you to handle right now. rafe noticed the unspoken exchange, and his mood soured even more. he wiped his mouth, scoffing.

“real classy, man,” rafe spat, his voice hoarse.

you rolled your eyes, unfazed by his usual grumbling. “glad to know you're well enough to fight,” you shot back, grabbing a paper towel to wet it and gently wiping his mouth. he shook his head and pushed your hand away. “you gotta go home, man.”

“no way,” he muttered, groaning as he leaned back against the wall. “top and kels are still here. i’m not leaving.”

you tossed the paper towel into the trash, exhaling in frustration. “i’ll take them home too,” you countered.

he groaned again, looking like he might pass out right there. “oh, great, you're driving. so that's two felonies—drunk driving and kidnapping.”

you smiled coyly, stepping back. “you know a lot about felonies, do you?”

he waved you off dismissively, rolling his eyes. “whatever. do what you want.”

you stared at him for a moment, but his behavior still felt off. he wasn’t usually this combative, not with you. it was like he couldn’t decide whether to fight you or something else. whatever it was, you didn’t care. “prick,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. he didn’t respond, and you didn’t press him further. you weren’t in the mood for his antics anymore.

you sat behind the wheel of your corvette, the engine humming beneath you, but all you could hear was the muffled noise of the others in the backseat. the car felt too small, the air too thick, the silence between you all almost unbearable. you could feel the alcohol coursing through your veins, making your thoughts a little foggy, your senses dull. the weight of the situation was starting to settle, but it didn’t matter—you still had to get them home, and you could barely keep your eyes focused on the road.

“this is such a bad idea,” sarah muttered from the passenger seat, her words slurring just slightly as she leaned back, clutching the seatbelt. “you’re literally wasted.”

you shot her a look, shrugging carelessly as you kept your eyes on the road. you knew she was right, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. this was the least of your problems.

“you’re fine,” kelce said from the back, his voice louder than necessary, “i don’t doubt you, never doubted you.” he cut himself off with a gag, and you could hear the way his stomach lurched behind you.

god, they were a mess. none of them could handle their liquor, and here you were, playing the designated driver in the middle of a blackout night. you glanced at them in the rearview mirror, seeing them in the back, all sprawled out and disoriented. they looked like three little kids leaving a birthday party, unsure of where to go next, lost in their own drunken stupor.

“thanks for driving us home,” topper said, smiling at you, his head tilted back against the headrest despite the way his stomach was clearly protesting the ride.

rafe rolled his eyes and sneered from his seat behind you. “grease her feet while you’re at it,” he snapped.

topper turned toward him with a quick retort. “how about i break yours?” he slurred, half-smiling through the haze of his drunkenness.

rafe, wincing in pain from the aftermath of whatever he had consumed, sat up straighter. “bring it on, man,” he spat, still looking for a fight.

kelce groaned from next to them, exasperated. “shut up, macklemore,” he sneered at rafe, before turning back to topper. “you too, vanilla ice—” but he barely finished before letting out a shrill scream, his body jolting forward as you hit the gas, your car lurching forward onto the main road. the backseat erupted.

“man, let go off me,” topper grumbled, trying to push kelce’s hand away as he clung to his shirt for dear life.

sarah rolled her eyes. “i can't believe you have to babysit them,” she muttered, her voice dripping with frustration.

you didn’t reply, instead giving the steering wheel another firm grip as you swerved slightly, the backseat falling into even more disarray. the chaos from behind you was nothing but white noise as you tried to focus on the road. you couldn’t let your mind wander.

“nothing better to do,” you said, your tone flat, not caring about the joke.

rafe scoffed loudly from the back, clearly trying to provoke you. “what? lose your two minutes in heaven with the pogue?”

you didn’t respond, your eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. rafe’s gaze met yours, and something dark flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t place. you didn’t have time for it, though, the weight of his words sinking in despite your attempt to block them out. your knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. it wasn’t long before you reached the final drop-off point, and you dropped topper and kelce off at their places first. you could still feel the tension in the air, thick and uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone.

when it was just you and rafe left, the silence between you both was more apparent. you turned to sarah, giving her a brief, tight hug before she slipped out of the car, but your eyes didn’t leave rafe.

"feel better, rafe," you said, your voice soft, a fake warmth in your tone as you held his gaze in the mirror.

he froze. he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. his eyes remained locked on you for just a moment longer before he gave a brief, wordless nod. the moment lingered. without another word, you pulled out of the driveway and made your way back home.

when you arrived, it was the same familiar emptiness. the house felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in around you. the silence settled in like an old friend, but one you weren’t sure you wanted to have a conversation with. sometimes, you’d pretend your mom was upstairs, tucked away in her room instead of on another work trip—if that’s what you could call it. sometimes, you’d talk to your dad, even though you knew he wasn’t going to respond. you’d still say “hey,” because maybe, just maybe, one day, he would answer.

but tonight was different. tonight, you didn’t feel like pretending. you didn’t feel like escaping. you made your way to the bathroom, needing the comfort of your routine. you wiped the makeup off your face, the familiar motions grounding you for a moment, but even the sound of the wipes against your skin couldn’t drown out the noise inside your head. you checked the mark that jj had left on your neck. it felt like a different lifetime, like a fleeting moment that you could barely remember now. but the silence. it was deafening.

you wiped the makeup off, but the tears came anyway, falling silently as you let the weight of the night hit you. it felt impossible to stop them, as if the floodgates had opened and you couldn’t close them. the tears fell in quiet streams as you stared at yourself in the mirror, a stranger looking back at you. you wondered what her name was, what her favorite color was. she looked younger, more natural, like time hadn’t worn her out yet, like she was still someone’s little girl.

you woke up to the harsh sunlight filtering through your curtains, a dull headache pounding in your temples like a steady drumbeat. the scent of stale alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of the night before, as your eyes fluttered open with a groggy resistance. you groaned, the pain in your head intensifying as you sat up slowly, trying to collect yourself.

it was always like this—late, a raging hangover, the world around you still spinning as if mocking your every move. you pulled the blanket around you tighter, wishing for another few hours of sleep, but the persistent ringing of your phone yanked you out of the haze. your hand fumbled for the device, the familiar vibrations like an intrusion into the fragile stillness you had been trying to create.

you squinted at the screen, the name blinking in front of you. you inhaled sharply, before reluctantly swiping to answer. “mom?” you called out, your voice raspy from the sleep, the headache still making it hard to focus.

“baby? hey, baby! happy birthday!” your mother’s voice was loud and cheerful, cutting through the background noise of what sounded like a party. you could hear the sound of waves crashing, glasses clinking, and the unmistakable hum of conversation. “hey, what’s going on?” she continued, trying to speak over the noise.

you felt a pit in your stomach. “nothing, just woke up,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes as you leaned back against the pillows, a dull ache forming in your chest. “how’ve you been?”

she laughed in response, the sound of her happiness so sharp and out of place compared to the hollow feeling gnawing at you. “just great, baby. you get the birthday money i sent you? only the best for my girl.” her words were bright, carefree.

you blinked, the mention of the money momentarily pulling you from your thoughts. “no, i’ll check, thanks, mom,” you said softly, not really hearing her anymore. you bit your lip, then hesitated. “have you—have you called him yet? to ask if he’ll come? for my birthday.”

there was a long silence, and for a moment, you wondered if she’d heard you. but then she spoke again, the change in her tone so subtle you almost missed it. “honey,” she started, her voice lowering just slightly. “honey, it’s just not gonna happen. said he had things going on, i’m sorry.”

the words stung in a way you hadn’t been prepared for. your chest tightened, but your eyes were dry—no tears would come, not today. not after all the times you’d convinced yourself it would be different. it was just another year of empty promises. another year of waiting.

“it’s okay, mom,” you said, your voice small. “no, i get it. he’s busy.” the words left your mouth, but they felt hollow, like you were trying to convince yourself of something you knew wasn’t true.

she continued, not noticing the shift in your tone. “hey, but i saw the news! you looked great in the dress, baby, i’ll send you another one—” she rambled on, her words falling on deaf ears. you didn’t hear her anymore, lost in the quiet thrum of disappointment that had settled deep within your chest.

you blinked rapidly, trying to push down the tightness in your throat, the dull ache in your chest threatening to spill over. “that’s great, mom,” you said quickly, forcing a smile that felt foreign on your face. “i gotta go. love you.”

before she could respond, you hung up. for a few moments, you just sat there, staring at the screen of your phone as if hoping it would change. maybe she’d call back. maybe your dad would come through. but you knew, deep down, that wasn’t going to happen. he wasn’t coming. maybe you shouldn’t have expected anything. maybe you should’ve extinguished that spark of hope before it could set you ablaze. but you didn’t. you never did. and it hurt more than you were willing to admit.

the car hummed beneath you as you drove through the familiar streets, the sound of tires on asphalt a low, constant rhythm. you had spent hours getting ready, the weight of the day pressing against you as you meticulously chose the outfit—a gold bodycon dress that clung to your curves, hugging every inch of your form, a golden strap resting around your neck shimmered in the fading light. you had layered the gold more subtly than yesterday, but it still caught the eye with its gleam, like a whisper of elegance in the dim evening light. your heels clicked sharply against the floor of your car as you shifted, checking your reflection one last time, the gold dress and matching shoes completing the look, but still, you felt incomplete. your hair cascaded down your back, and you’d carefully applied just enough makeup to cover the evidence of the tears you’d shed.

the drive to the estate was quiet, almost like the calm before the storm. by the time you pulled up to the house, the sun had nearly dipped below the horizon, the deep hues of nightfall creeping in. you sat there for a moment, the engine idling as you stared ahead, thinking about the emptiness that seemed to grow inside of you the longer you sat there.

you finally exhaled, pushing open the door and stepping out. the cool air hit you, making the tightness in your chest feel a little more unbearable. as you walked up the driveway, your heels clicking on the pavement, you saw him—rafe—leaning against the porch railing, his eyes trained on you as soon as you approached. his usual smirk spread across his face, but it was tinged with something else, something more curious as he took in your appearance.

“a little overdressed for mass, aren't you?” he quipped, his voice light, though his gaze was anything but. his eyes moved over the gold dress, the way it hugged you in all the right places, and you could feel the weight of his attention on you like a physical thing.

you didn’t respond at first, not sure how to react to his gaze, which lingered on you longer than usual. a breath caught in your throat, but you pushed it away, continuing toward the door. you had more important things to do tonight than engage with him. you just needed to get through this—this night, this birthday, everything. rafe, however, wasn’t about to let you go so easily. as you reached for the door, he stood up, pushing himself off the railing to block your path.

“happy birthday,” he said, the words soft now, an unfamiliar sincerity in his tone.

you paused, looking at him, feeling the weight of the moment as his eyes searched yours. “thanks,” you muttered, your voice flat. “you, top, and kels gonna join us tonight?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as if the question was casual, but there was an edge to it.

he raised an eyebrow. “where to?”

you shrugged, playing it off, though the emptiness inside you made it harder to keep the facade up. “viva, around nine. no big deal.”

his expression shifted, impressed but masking it behind a sardonically raised brow. “not even i can get into that joint. guess the people love you,” he said, his tone more biting now.

you nodded, unsure of what else to say, unsure of what to do. you just stood there, your eyes caught in his. something about the way he looked at you, a mixture of curiosity and something darker, made you feel exposed, like he could see right through you.

“we’ll be there,” he added after a moment, something less than a smile curling at the edges of his lips. it wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t mocking either. just something different. you smiled back, but it was small, uncertain. you nodded, stepping past him and into the house. the air felt colder inside, the silence pressing against you like a weight you couldn’t shake.

you made your way upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood as you walked toward sarah’s room. the door was slightly ajar, and when you pushed it open, you found her sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone. the moment she saw you, her face lit up with a smile that could have rivaled the sun, and before you knew it, she was up and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you in tightly.

“happy birthday, baby,” she whispered, burying her head in the crook of your neck, her warmth a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside. “we’ll make it your best, i promise.”

for a moment, you let yourself melt into the embrace, letting the love and care from her soak through you. but as she pulled back, her hands taking yours with a smile, her eyes caught sight of something. her expression shifted, the smile fading as she noticed the wetness in your eyes.

“baby, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice suddenly laced with concern.

you shook your head, trying to push the tears away, but they came anyway. you squeezed her hands tightly, the words barely able to escape your lips. “he’s not coming, sarah,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you felt the weight of the truth hit you. “my dad’s not coming.”

her face fell instantly, her arms wrapping around you again as she pulled you in closer. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered over and over, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “i got you, you’ll be okay. you’re alright.”

but the words didn’t stop the tears. they spilled freely now, hot and relentless, as sarah held you tight, her presence the only thing anchoring you in the moment. you let yourself cry, the weight of everything you had been holding in finally coming to the surface.

unbeknownst to either of you, rafe stood frozen just outside the door, his back pressed against the wall as he listened. he bit his nail, his gaze fixed on the ground, but his mind was far away. the sound of your sobs tugged at something inside him—something raw, something human. and in that moment, he understood. no one acted out for no reason. no one. and now he knew why you did.

the night air was thick, heavy, as you stepped into the car. rafe was already in the passenger seat, his posture rigid, jaw tight. you settled into the driver’s seat, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around the steering wheel. the silence between the two of you was suffocating, the kind that crawled under your skin and festered, making every breath feel labored. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his profile sharp in the dim light, his eyes staring ahead, unseeing, yet somehow deeply observant.

the quiet stretched on, and neither of you moved to break it. the air felt like it might crack under the weight of unspoken words, until finally, he did. “we don’t have to go to the club tonight,” he said, his voice low but firm, cutting through the stillness like a knife.

you turned your head slightly, your brow furrowing as his words hung in the air between you. he didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need to. you knew exactly what he meant. why go? why waste your birthday in a haze of liquor and music, knowing you’d wake up tomorrow with nothing but a pounding headache and a hollow ache in your chest? why numb yourself, knowing it wouldn’t work?

“i can’t,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost fragile.

he nodded, understanding in a way that made your stomach churn. it wasn’t that you wanted to go. it wasn’t even that you needed to go. but you couldn’t not go. you couldn’t sit in the house and let the quiet consume you, couldn’t face the crushing reality of what the day symbolized. rafe opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but the back door opened before he could. sarah slid into the seat, her presence immediately filling the space with a warmth that felt like a lifeline. she reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and offering a smile—gentle, knowing, as if she could read every thought swirling in your head.

“it’s gonna be okay,” she said simply, her voice soft yet steady, like she believed it enough for the both of you.

and somehow, it was enough. you felt your lips twitch into a small smile, a flicker of gratitude in your chest as you nodded and turned the key in the ignition. the engine roared to life, and the car hummed beneath you as you pulled out of the driveway, the night stretching out before you like a promise and a threat all at once. the drive to the club was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the engine and the muted chatter from sarah’s phone. by the time you reached the club, the neon lights were already casting their glow across the pavement, painting the night in shades of electric blue and pink. kelce and topper were waiting near the entrance, their figures silhouetted against the vibrant backdrop.

kelce was the first to approach, a wide grin on his face as he spread his arms dramatically. “it’s yo’ birthday, so i know you want to ri-i-ide out,” he sang, his voice teasing as he reached out to pull you into a bear hug.

you rolled your eyes, swatting at his chest as you laughed despite yourself. “you’re an idiot,” you muttered, but there was a warmth in your tone that hadn’t been there before.

topper was next, stepping forward with a nervous smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, his hug softer, more tentative. “you look really, really good,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “happy birthday, doll.”

you pulled back just enough to smile up at him, your expression genuine, if a little tired. but as you met his gaze, you felt the weight of another stare burning into your back. rafe stood a few steps behind you, his posture tense, his fists clenched at his sides. his jaw worked as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing as they flicked between you and topper. the look on his face was unreadable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

he could feel his blood boiling, the vein in his neck throbbing as he watched you smile at topper. he doesn’t get it, rafe thought bitterly. he doesn’t understand.

topper couldn’t see you the way rafe did. he couldn’t pick apart the pieces of you that you tried so desperately to hide, couldn’t reach into the deepest, darkest corners of your mind and pull out the things you were too afraid to face. topper didn’t know you like rafe did. he didn’t understand you. and the worst part? there was nothing rafe could do about it. not here, not now. so he shoved his hands into his pockets, his jaw tightening as he followed behind the group, his eyes never leaving your back as you made your way into the club. the music hit you like a wave the moment you stepped inside, the bass vibrating through your chest as the lights flashed in time with the rhythm.

the bouncer led your group through the heart of the club, weaving past packed tables and the glowing bar, where patrons leaned in to shout orders over the pounding music. the vip section was tucked into a quieter corner, though still pulsating with energy. elevated above the main floor, it offered an unobstructed view of the dancefloor below, with plush, leather seating that curved around a sleek glass table illuminated by soft, golden lighting. bottles of premium spirits and mixers lined the backlit shelves behind the bar like trophies, and the hum of wealth and exclusivity hung in the air.

kelce let out a low whistle as he plopped onto one of the couches, sprawling out like he owned the place. “man, i feel my trust fund going through withdrawals just standing here,” he quipped, nudging topper, who laughed as he leaned back, his eyes scanning the room.

you couldn’t help but smile at their antics as you took it all in. the place was opulent, a temple to indulgence and excess, and for a brief moment, it was easy to forget the ache in your chest. the bartender approached your section, a polished man in a crisp shirt and tie, his movements smooth and practiced.

you straightened your posture and glanced around at the group, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “so,” you said, clapping your hands together lightly. “what are we drinking? my treat.”

the others stared at you, surprised. sarah raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “shouldn’t we be treating you?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

you waved her off with a dismissive gesture. “as if, guys. this place is expensive, it’s fine,” you replied, brushing off her words as though they were nothing.

but rafe’s gaze darkened, his jaw clenching as he watched the interaction. it wasn’t fine. he could see it so clearly—the way you were trying to bury your pain beneath lavish distractions, throwing money around as if the hole in your wallet could somehow fill the one in your heart.

you didn’t wait for their protests, turning to the bartender with a confident smile. “chilled bucket,” you began, your tone even and composed, “we’ll do grey goose, nolet’s reserve, and some vodka sodas.”

as you reached into your purse and handed him your credit card, his eyes flicked over you appreciatively, lingering on the way your gold dress shimmered under the dim lights. “real big fan,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “dress is amazing, miss archibald.”

you forced a polite smile, nodding briefly as he walked away with your card. kelce and topper exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity, but rafe wasn’t laughing.

“that’s almost a grand you just spent,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the music.

you turned to him, your expression neutral. “it’s okay,” you said softly, as though repeating it might make it true. “just for tonight.” but he saw through you. he always did.

to everyone else, it might have seemed like you were simply indulging in the luxury the night demanded. but rafe knew better. he’d seen this pattern before—women in his orbit spending money as a salve for something deeper, using extravagance to mask emptiness. he’d always dismissed it as shallow, as meaningless. there was nothing to search for beneath their bold lipstick and sun-kissed skin, no hidden depths to uncover. but not with you. there was something beneath the surface of your carefully curated façade, something raw and real that you couldn’t quite hide. and it gnawed at him, this feeling of wanting to understand you, to know the truth of who you were behind the gold dress and the polite smiles. he didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

as the bartender returned with the drinks, setting them on the table with practiced ease, you picked up a vodka soda and raised it in a silent toast, your eyes flicking between the group with a small smile. “to tonight,” you said, your voice steady, though your eyes betrayed the storm brewing inside. everyone raised their glasses in response, cheers erupting as they leaned into the moment. but rafe stayed quiet, his gaze lingering on you, wondering if he’d ever get close enough to see the truth beneath the gold.

the energy was contagious, almost. the ambient bass thumped through the plush leather seats, rattling glasses on the illuminated table. laughter spilled freely, a mix of light-hearted giggles and drunken cackles, as the liquor flowed and the group reveled in the luxury surrounding them. the air smelled of expensive perfume, vodka, and the faint, metallic tang of ice.

kelce leaned back, swirling a tumbler of gin, his cheeks flushed as he tried to make topper laugh. topper, already several drinks in, leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin, his hair sticking to his forehead. sarah sat close to you, her hand lightly brushing yours as she twirled the remnants of vodka in her glass. you cracked open a vodka soda, the sharp hiss of carbonation cutting through the din of music and conversation. the moment the can opened, it sprayed everywhere, misting you and sarah. you squealed, recoiling as droplets of chilled liquid dotted your arms and face.

“oh my god!” sarah gasped, laughing as she frantically patted at her dress.

“sorry, sorry!” you cried, giggling uncontrollably as you grabbed a napkin to dab her arm.

“you are so buying me a new outfit,” she teased, but the twinkle in her eye told you she didn’t mean it.

the group erupted into laughter, kelce pounding the table with his fist. “what is this, amateur hour?” he mocked, earning a playful shove from topper.

“don’t act like you’re not next,” you shot back, shaking your head as you grabbed the vodka bottle from the bucket. the liquor was cold against your palm, the condensation dampening your hand.

in the background, act a fool blared through the speakers, the lyrics blending seamlessly with the buzz of conversation. rafe sat apart from the group, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were trained on you. his gin sat untouched in a crystal glass, the ice melting slowly. while everyone else laughed and joked, he watched you with an intensity that set him apart, his jaw tight as you brought the vodka bottle to your lips.

you leaned toward sarah, your movements slightly sluggish, your words slurring as you said, “i have to tell you something.”

she raised an eyebrow, giggling at your serious tone. “what’s that?”

you sighed dramatically, gesturing around the room. “i’ve gotten everything i’ve ever wanted, but i have one wish.”

sarah’s laughter softened into curiosity as she tilted her head. “i’ll grant you three,” she teased, her voice warm and affectionate.

you leaned closer, resting your chin on her shoulder as you whispered, “you and me. we’re thirty, living in california. we have a beach house in italy. these boys,” you waved dismissively, your free hand gesturing toward the guys. “…are just placeholders. we live together.”

sarah blinked, her expression shifting as her smile faltered. something in your voice, in the quiet yearning beneath your playful tone, struck a chord. she frowned, her eyes glistening as if tears were just a breath away. “i’ll drink to that,” she murmured, leaning over rafe to wrap her arms around you. the embrace was warm and comforting, sarah’s laugh mingling with yours as you passed her the vodka bottle. she took a swig, grimacing slightly as the sharp burn hit her throat.

across the table, kelce and topper exchanged a glance. “they’re not about to make out, are they?” kelce whispered, grinning mischievously.

topper slapped his arm, rolling his eyes. “shut up, man.”

rafe finally moved, setting his glass down with a soft clink. his voice cut through the noise, steady and authoritative. “hey, hey, hey, okay,” he said, leaning forward and grabbing the vodka bottle from sarah’s hand. he set it down firmly on the table. “you’ve both had enough to drink. settle down.”

you turned to him, your eyes glassy and your lips curling into a small, defiant smile. “you haven’t had enough,” you whispered, leaning against his shoulder.

the contact sent a jolt through him, his spine stiffening as your warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt. your proximity was intoxicating, your breath brushing against his skin as your words hung in the air like a challenge. for a moment, he was frozen, caught off guard by the way you disarmed him so effortlessly. his pulse quickened, but he didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe as your weight rested against him.

topper, who had been quietly observing, narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. “alright, that’s enough,” he muttered, reaching out to pull you upright. but rafe didn’t move, his gaze locked on you, his hand steady on the vodka bottle as if anchoring himself. something unspoken passed between you, a charged silence that neither of you dared to break.

the night was teetering on the edge of chaos, the atmosphere thick with liquor-fueled exhilaration and the sharp tang of tension. the flashing lights from the dance floor illuminated your golden dress, reflecting in the swirling haze of smoke and sweat. the crowd moved as one, their energy magnetized toward you and sarah as you spun her under the pulsing beat. the music thumped louder, and the bartender, noticing the rising excitement, wiped down the counter with a quick slap of his rag. he gestured toward the two of you, his grin wide as he motioned for you to step up.

“come on,” you said, your voice cutting through the music as you pulled sarah toward the bar. her protests were faint, drowned out by your infectious confidence.

with a laugh, you guided her up onto the counter, steadying her with a firm grip on her hands. the cheers around you erupted into a frenzy as you began to move, your body swaying and rolling in perfect rhythm with the music. the lights caught every facet of your dress, sending shards of gold cascading across the room. sarah followed your lead, her movements growing more fluid as you guided her hips with your hands. she blushed under your touch, her laughter blending with the roar of the crowd. you leaned into her, arching your back just enough to draw more cheers.

the vodka bottle in your hand sloshed slightly as you crouched low, balancing effortlessly on your heels. tipping the bottle over the edge of the counter, you poured a stream of vodka toward the eager mouths below, eliciting more hollers and applause. the crowd drank it up, their cheers climbing to a fever pitch as you returned to your feet, twirling sarah into another spin.

the boys were transfixed. kelce leaned against the table, his grin wide as he shook his head. “i got a hundred riding on this night ending with an ambulance,” he slurred, though his eyes lingered on you.

topper, already three sheets to the wind, chuckled. “man, she’s something else,” he murmured, his gaze locked on your form as you danced. he leaned back, smirking as he added, “i think i’m gonna ask her out tonight.”

kelce let out a loud cheer, raising his glass in mock celebration. “see you at the gym, top.”

but rafe sat rigid, his jaw tight and his glass clutched too firmly in his hand. he drained the rest of his gin in one sharp motion, his knuckles whitening as he reached for the bottle to refill.

when topper caught the expression on his face, his grin turned into a taunt. he tilted his head, feigning innocence as he asked, “something to say, cameron?”

rafe shrugged, pouring another drink without looking at him. “do what you want,” he said, his tone low and biting. “it’s your funeral.”

topper’s smirk faltered, his drunken bravado shifting into something darker. “what the fuck’s your problem?” he demanded, leaning in. “mad you don’t get the girl for once?”

the taunt hung in the air, baiting rafe in a way that was impossible to ignore. his grip tightened on the neck of the bottle as he leaned forward, his voice dripping with venom. “not as mad as you’ll be when i tell you that we fucked,” he spat.

the silence that followed was deafening. kelce froze, his eyes wide as he glanced between the two, anticipation crackling in the air. the music continued to pound, but it felt muted, the tension between rafe and topper swallowing everything else. topper’s expression darkened, his fist curling at his side. then, without warning, he lunged forward, his punch connecting with rafe’s jaw with a sickening crack. he stumbled back, toppling over the couch as the room erupted into chaos. the cheers turned into gasps, all eyes snapping to the commotion in the section. but rafe wasn’t down for long. he was back on his feet in an instant, his jaw set and his eyes blazing.

“is that all you got, bitch?” he barked, his voice carrying over the music as he launched himself at topper, tackling him to the ground.

kelce, still lounging on the couch, doubled over in laughter. “stop the violence,” he slurred, pulling out his phone to record the fight. “white trash.” he added with a cackle, his voice barely audible over the shouts and scuffle.

the fight had turned vicious. topper lunged again, his fist swinging hard enough to make the crowd around them flinch. he caught rafe across the cheekbone, the sharp smack of skin on skin cutting through the music. “take it back!” he shouted, his voice raw with anger.

rafe stumbled but didn’t go down. his lip split, blood trickling to his chin as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. he smirked, that infuriating smirk that always made topper see red. “why, top? gonna shed a tear or two?” rafe taunted, his words slurred but sharp.

topper grabbed the front of rafe’s shirt, pulling him close. “say you lied!”

rafe laughed, low and mocking. “why would I? you really think you’ve got a shot with her? come on, man. she’d chew you up and spit you out.”

kelce, leaning back on the couch, was practically howling with laughter as he filmed. “oh, this is gold. gonna do numbers on snap.” he slurred, zooming in as topper shoved rafe back, only for rafe to retaliate with a fist to his jaw.

the bouncers at the edge of the chaos exchanged amused glances. one of them, a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head, nudged his partner. “fifty says the tall one in the blazer goes down first,” he said.

“nah,” the other replied, shaking his head. “that one—rafe, right? he’s got crazy in his eyes. i’ll take the other guy.”

the blows became sloppier as the alcohol took its toll, but the rage between the two burned hot and bright. rafe tackled topper to the ground, the two of them grappling as the crowd shouted and jeered. that’s when you noticed. your attention, previously fixed on sarah and the music, shifted to the commotion. your heart sank as you recognized the figures on the floor. “jesus,” you muttered, pushing through the crowd. “what the fuck are they doing?”

kelce turned to you, grinning as he kept filming. “oh, you know boys, always roughhousing,” he cackled, his words thick with gin.

you shot him a glare before grabbing a nearby vodka soda, cracking it open with a sharp hiss. without hesitation, you stepped into the fray, tipping the can over their heads. the cold liquid drenched both of them, startling them into stillness. “what the fuck?” rafe spat, blinking up at you as the vodka dripped down his face.

you glared down at him, your chest heaving. “are you done?” you snapped, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him to his feet. “we’re leaving.”

rafe tried to resist, but your grip was firm, and his drunken state left him little room to argue. the crowd parted as you pulled him through, cameras flashing as you emerged into the cool night air. outside, the chaos faded into quiet, the muffled thump of the music barely audible. you stopped by a bench, releasing rafe’s arm as you took a shaky breath. the night air bit at your damp skin, and you sat down, your pulse still racing.

he stood there for a moment, staring at you. then, slowly, he sank down beside you, his body heavy with exhaustion.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words soft and unexpected.

you turned to him, your brows furrowing as you took in his bruised face. his eyes were glassy, his lip swollen, but his expression was sincere.

“i’m sorry for everything,” he continued, his voice rough. “for being an ass, for decking topper. i did it because i’m wired that way, okay? you just—you left that morning. you were gone, just like that. i woke up, i could still smell you, you and your stupid perfume. and i turned around, and you were gone, like i was waking up from a dream that was never meant to be.”

his words hit you like a blow, your chest tightening as you struggled to respond. “i’m sorry,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. “i can’t stay. you know i can’t.”

he shook his head, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i’m not him,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not your dad. i’m not gonna leave.”

and just like that, the dam broke. tears spilled down your cheeks, and you hated how vulnerable you felt, but rafe didn’t. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as your body shook with sobs.

“you spend this time with a scab, and you expect it to heal,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “but how can you do that if you keep picking at it?”

he pulled back, his fingers tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “anybody who’s had the pleasure of knowing your name just to lose you—they’ll regret that for the rest of their lives. and he will, too. but i’m not him. god, i could never be him. i could never let go of someone like you. i’d spend the rest of my life searching for you if i did.”

his words cracked something deep inside you, and when his hand stroked your cheek, trailing to the underside of your jaw, you didn’t pull away. his lips met yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch, his desperation coursing as though he feared you might disappear at any moment.

when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, relief flooding his expression when he saw you were still there. “i love you,” he murmured, the words so quiet you almost missed them.

you shook your head, your voice trembling. “i’m damaged goods, rafe.”

but he kissed you again, silencing your protests. When he pulled back, he whispered, “you could never be damaged, not you. and even if you were, even if you kept falling apart, i’d keep putting you back together. over and over again.”

his arms tightened around you as you cried, his grip unwavering, as if you were gonna disappear—and as far as he was concerned, it was possible. he needed it to last, just in case. just in case this was fate being cruel, god laughing at him from afar, ready to snatch you away again. he’d let you slip away once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again.

the silence of your home was deafening. the weight of everything lingered, pressing heavily on your chest as you sank onto the couch. your dress clung to your damp skin, and you leaned forward, burying your face in your hands. for once, you didn’t talk to yourself, didn’t pace the room pretending you felt safe, didn’t toss and turn, praying for someone to come home and tuck you in. you just sat there, letting the stillness wrap around you like a heavy, unwelcome blanket.

“you’re biting off more than you can chew,” you muttered finally, your voice cutting through the quiet.

but this time, you weren’t talking to yourself. you weren’t talking to the father who’d never respond.

from below you, rafe’s voice came soft and steady. “you’re not gonna push me away,” he said, kneeling in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. his fingers traced light, soothing patterns on your skin, grounding you. “not again.”

a small, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips as your hands fell from your face. your fingers reached out instinctively, cupping his jaw, your touch feather-light. “sorry, was i doing that?” you teased, though your voice wavered.

rafe stood slowly, towering over you, his presence commanding as it was comforting. his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his eyes searching yours. “you can keep doing that,” he murmured, his voice low and unwavering. “because i’m not going anywhere either way.”

you couldn’t hold back the small smile that broke through, your face still streaked with the remnants of tears. “you’re not gonna like what you see, rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a vulnerability you hadn’t let anyone see before.

his thumb stroked your cheek, his hand warm and steady as it cupped your jaw. “do your worst,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering.

you stood, brushing past him, your steps slow and deliberate as you faced away. “i liked it,” you began, your voice fragile yet resolute. “the attention, the drinking, all of it. i could make it through my days of pity parties and waiting for something that was never going to come because i could pretend—pretend to be someone else, even if it was just for a few hours.”

rafe’s eyes never left you, his breath steady, waiting. “and who did you pretend to be?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek as you turned back to him.

you exhaled shakily, the words breaking as they left your lips. “i’d pretend like i was still someone’s little girl. just for a little while.”

his hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and his lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that felt foreign, new. the kiss was sweet, patient, the kind of kiss that made your heart stutter. it was soft, unhurried, but beneath it was something so much more different that what you were used to. you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as if letting go meant losing him. he didn’t falter, didn’t break away. Instead, his hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. he turned, sinking back onto the couch with you in his lap, his lips never leaving yours.

his breath was warm against your skin as he whispered, “you can hide as much as you want. i’ll run away and hide with you.”

a genuine smile broke through your defenses, the first in what felt like years. it wasn’t forced or fleeting—it was real. and it was because of him.

you kissed him again, this time with more urgency, more heat. his hands roamed your back, steady but hungry, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you. his fingers found the zipper of your dress, pausing for a moment as if asking permission. you nodded, your breath hitching as he pulled the zipper down, his hands brushing your skin as the fabric slipped away. you tugged at his shirt in return, your fingers fumbling slightly, but he helped you, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.

his hands, warm and firm, cupped your waist, his touch reverent as his lips found yours again. “god,” he murmured against your lips, his voice heavy with emotion. “i just wanna feel you—really feel you. not what you show the world, not the mask. just you.”

your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, letting the dress fall away from your shoulders, the fabric pooling around you. he kissed you deeper, his hands exploring, but gentle, as if he knew the fragility of your trust. your body responded, leaning into him, the heat between you growing as the fabric of his pants rubbed against your bare thighs.

his mouth trailed down your neck, kissing a soft line to your collarbone, and you shivered, your hands tightening on his shoulders. he pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for reassurance. you nodded, your breath coming in gasps as you whispered, “yes, rafe—yes, i want this, i want you.”

his eyes lit up, a warmth that spread through you like a warm embrace, and he kissed you again, this time with an intensity that made your knees go weak. his hands moved to unhook your bra, the fabric slipping away to reveal your bare tits to the cool air. he took his time, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders, as he trailed towards your breasts, his touch light and reverent, as if he was worshipping every inch of you.

you felt exposed, but not in the way you had with others. with rafe, it was different. you felt seen, understood—like he knew the secrets etched into your soul and loved you for them. as his kisses grew bolder, so did your desire, your hands sliding down to unbuckle his belt, to push his pants aside. your heart hammered in your chest as your skin met his, the sensation electric, as if the air around you crackled with energy.

his hand slid up your thigh, and you felt him, hard and eager against you, and for once, you weren’t afraid. you weren’t just giving in—you were choosing this. choosing him.

his thumb brushed against your center, and a soft moan escaped your lips. his eyes searched yours, and when he found what he was looking for—consent, trust—his hand slid further, pushing aside the last of your barriers, watching the way your panties slid off the flesh of your thighs with desire in his eyes

you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the urgency growing as his fingers moved with a gentle skill that had you arching into his touch. your breath came in ragged gasps, your eyes fluttering shut as you focused on the feeling of him, of this moment, of the way he was making you feel.

his other hand found your cheek, turning your face to his, and he kissed you again, his eyes never leaving yours as he entered you, slow and sure, filling the emptiness you’d felt for so long. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure, but with rafe, it was different—it was healing. you let out a moan as you held onto him, his dick pushing into you, splitting you in a way that had his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin, as he began to thrust into you, the rhythm steady and soothing, his eyes never leaving yours. your breathing synced with his, your bodies moving together as if they’d always been meant to, and in that moment, you forgot about your father, your issues, the weight of the world. there was only rafe. he let out a groan as he lifted your legs, pushing them back, leaning forward to take advantage of the angle that had his dick throbbing.

his voice was a whisper in your ear, “i love you, baby,” and the words sunk into you like warm rain, washing away the doubt, filling you up until you felt like you might burst with the emotion.

your eyes snapped open, and you stared at him, your breath catching. “you love me?” you breathed, your voice trembling with hope.

his smile was gentle, his eyes full of love and tenderness. “more than anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth as he thrusted into you. “more than i thought possible.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your walls crumbling away. the love you’d been so afraid to admit washed over you, mixing with the pleasure of his touch. your hips moved with his, your bodies finding a rhythm that was as natural as breathing. his hand moved between your legs, his thumb brushing against your clit with a precision that had you gasping, your nails digging into his back.

you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your stomach, your muscles tightening around him. rafe noticed, his eyes darkening with passion, his breath coming in harsh pants. “come for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “let go—i’ve got you.”

you did, letting yourself fall over the edge, the pleasure crashing through you like a tidal wave. rafe followed, his movements becoming erratic as he buried his face in your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. your bodies shuddered together, the intensity of your release leaving you boneless and weak. when he came inside you, there was no panic, no yelling, no running. he was still there, and so were you.

afterwards, he held you close, your heartbeats syncing as your breaths grew steadier. the room was filled with the scent of sweat and sex, but it was comforting rather than suffocating. rafe’s hand stroked your hair, his kisses tender and gentle as they trailed down your neck and along your collarbone. you leaned into him, feeling safe and loved in a way you never had before. the silence was no longer a prison but a sanctuary, a space where you could breathe and just be.

he could have this, he could enjoy it, knowing that you wouldn’t disappear when the morning came. not this time.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

a/n: take a shot whenever topper and kelce exchange a glance pls i giggled writing this

[miange1]

HYUN-JU

male reader, reader is a college student, talks of dysphoria, hyun-ju's past, reader doesn't know hyun ju's trans, pining/being smitten, death, crying, scuicidal thoughts, im in love with this woman.

note: i am not trans, im a cis dude. if i ever get something wrong or offensive and you're trans just let me know and i'll fix it. Also I saw something where someone said gyeong-seok probably just thought hyun ju was a cis woman who had a really deep voice and i thought it was funny.

You had been lucky to pass the first game. You were scared out of your mind, and the small group you made from the first few games had died. It was terrible, you had no one. It's surprising how despite everyone being in the same situation— you found no more comfort.

But there was this girl you had seen. She had shoulder length hair, and earrings that truly just suit her. She was really pretty, you wanted to talk to her yet she was always with her own group.

Yet this time, she wasn't. She was just by herself for a moment, was she thinking to herself? Maybe you should talk to her? No, that's a bad idea. Okay, but what else was there to do? You might die without talking to the woman of your dreams.

Mustering up the little courage you had, you went over to her. Hands sweaty the closer you got to her. You wiped it on your slightly blood stained uniform, feeling even more icky realizing you were bloody.

Getting closer to her, you sat on a mattress. Shit, what now? You cleared your throat, "H..hi." you felt like you were back in highschool. Mouth dry as if you were talking to your fist crush. She looked over to you, a small smile on her curious face. "Hi."

She spoke to you, holy crap she spoke to you.

"How uh— how are you?" You stuttered.

But before she could answer you shook your head, blurting for her not to answer that stupid question. Jesus your face was burning up, felt like you had a fever.

"I'm sorry," You were able to get that out. "This is dumb, I just thought you were really pretty and.." She hadn't broken eye contact with you, but you could barely look at her. "In a situation like this it's pretty weird to say something like that to someone isn't it?"

"You think I'm pretty?"

You shut your mouth, looking at her oddly. "Yeah..of course i do. Do you not think so?" She scoffed, thinking you were joking. She had just gotten called beautiful by young-mi, and she believed it she truly did. But hearing it from someone she barely knew? Made her feel like crying again.

"I have been called a lot of things, yet not pretty. I only expected to be called pretty after my transition." That was where you made another face more confused than before. "Transition?" Your voice spoke with genuine confusion.

She raised her eyebrow at you, then rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you can tell." You really couldn't. There was nothing you had against transgender people at all, but it doesn't change the fact you couldn't tell.

"I really wasn't aware, was that offensive to you?" She stared at you for a moment, bursting out laughing after a while and earning some stares. "My voice? Even hearing me, you weren't aware?" You shook your head and shrugged.

"I just thought you had a naturally deep voice." Oh you were making her feel so much better, even if you didn't know it. She couldn't stop laughing, grabbing onto your shoulder as a touch of affection. It made you smile and laugh with her, your own hand touching hers to reciprocate.

The two of you had deeper talks over time until the next game. She told you what you guessed she told the others, about her plan on what to do with the money, how she had others distance themselves from her when she told them she felt like a woman. It made you feel bad, but you were happy she was telling you this because it felt like you had known each other for so long.

You wished it lasted longer

—

"Six." The moment it was spoke, you had been pulled by hyun ju. It was a habit she was making, always grabbing you the moment the she heard the number. But this time, she made a mistake. She realized last minute young-mi was too behind.

She panicked, no one else seemed to have room and it was a moment of time before she absolutely had to close the door.

Hyun ju's grip stayed on you, it seemed to get tighter the more stressed she got. Young mi was just a kid, she deserved to live on.

"10, 9, 8,"

You only had so much time to decide. You yanked yourself from hyun ju's grip, and she instantly gave you a look as if you were stupid. "What are you doing?" She wanted to save you both, but you knew that wasn't possible.

You didn't speak, only letting your lips touch hers quickly, yet you stayed as long as you could. Even in death you would always remember her lips, they trembled against yours, confused, yet wanting and needing more. You let yourself run out, pushing the girl inside. "1."

It was done, and there was nothing that could be done. You heard the yell of her voice, panicking and shaking the door trying to get it to open. "No, no, unlock the door! God damn it!"

"I love you." She stopped, looking at you in your eyes. You were scared too, crying even. You didn't want to die, and she knew it. She was so deeply in love with someone she only knew for a few hours, but it felt like years. She needed you, she wanted you to live. Get to know you better when this was all over, maybe even go further if it could!

She couldn't even say it back while you were conscious. The life left your eyes, and your body fell. "No.." she was in disbelief. No, you weren't dead.

"Please, please, I love you too.." She couldn't be upset at anyone, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.

"Unnie." Arms wrapped around her, "Come on..you have to get up..the next round." She didn't want to play anymore, she didn't feel like she could. If only it was her, she could have at least had hope for you and young-mi.

Damn it

[staytinyville]

WHAT'S THIS?

↣ Summary: You were always different from those of Christmas Town. Something was missing inside of you that you needed to find. Have you possibly gone daffy?

↣ Characters/Pairing: Ragdoll!Hongjoong x Elf!Reader

↣ Genre: Smut, fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: Nightmare Before Christmas!AU, Monster!Au, Jacob’s ladder deal with penis, 

↣ Word Count:

↣ Warnings: Soft sex, Christmas/Halloween Fluff, love at first sight

↣ A/N: To the ever great @catkyunie for Secret Santa. I had another thing planned but ultimately decided on this because I watched the movie four times in a weekend. I love the soundtrack so much man. Also I’ve had the idea to make a Nightmare Before Christmas AU for a while now but it wasn’t this story exactly. I love the movie so much so I hope it comes out as well I hope it did. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cromernet , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

Never go near the Holiday Trees. 

For as long as one could remember, the elves were told that. It was centuries ago when the rule was brought up after a very troublesome Halloween town citizen decided they wanted to take over Christmas. 

Things have changed–the children have changed. There was no better holiday compared to the rest. Each person had their favorite, and so the ones in charge didn’t bother with the other holidays for fear of being less than happy. 

But that didn’t mean those who were in charge of the holidays still couldn’t feel as though there was something missing within themselves. 

You could hear the soft crunch of your reindeer companion following behind you, bleating small sounds as it found berries and grass to eat. It happily continued to munch while you frowned deeply at the prospect of walking through a foot of snow. 

It bothered you. You could see how all the other elves were easily able to navigate themselves through the snow on light feet–not sinking down to end up buried in it. It was your fault, you figured. Not having the simple little magic everyone else had. 

You couldn’t make toys. Couldn’t bring joy to the children who you had to watch over every once in a while. You couldn’t even make cookies that somehow every elf knew how to make from scratch. You were the odd ball in the town full of ridiculously happy citizens that mocked you every chance they could. 

Well, maybe they didn’t mock you because that would be very naughty of them. But you did feel bad everytime they tried to teach you something and you just couldn’t get it. There was something missing. And year after year, it hurt to see Christmas come and go without your help. 

Your ears twitch as you trudge through the thick snow trying to find more pine cones to fill your family tree with. You were wrapped in double scarves, your ears and nose covered. The snow was thinning out the further in you went and by then your legs were so tired you were half tempted to fall over into the snow to rest for a moment. 

You sniffled, nose starting to run but you used your sleeve to brush it away. By the time you realized it, the snow had cleared completely all of a sudden which caused you to trip over your own feet and fall flat onto the forest floor. 

“Oof.” You groaned, shuffling out of the snowy area and onto the dirt. 

Pine needles stuck to your face as you shuffled yourself to stand up, coming to sit on your knees and look around the clearing. 

You felt a shiver go through your body as you stared up at the tree that had a large pumpkin door on its trunk. You glanced around for a moment more, seeing the rest of the holiday doors waiting for someone to open them. You finally got up onto your legs, the jingle bells on your feet and hat making a sound each time you moved. 

You knew exactly where you were and found it odd that you were even here. The location of these trees are only known to the Claus’s, so to be able to reach this place was something you couldn’t fathom. 

Each door was different from the last. Some brighter than others while some just seemed so plain. The pumpkin with the large grin stared back at you as you reached it last. It’s smile was dark, almost a pitch black that had you losing yourself within it. Each jagged edge looked like it would prick you if you dared to touch it. 

And yet you still found yourself reaching for the door knob nose, muscles straining just a bit as the knob seemed stuck for a moment. But it finally moved after a moment, startling you with how easy it was to pull the door open.

It was even darker inside, a gust of wind blowing through causing red and orange leaves to fall out. Your nose crinkled at the smell of black licorice. But you still stuck your head further in, trying to make out something inside the abyss of the tree. 

Suddenly you could hear a humming. A sound that went together to form some kind of lullaby that almost put you to sleep. You strained your ears to hear more of it, trying to make out the words. 

“Sometimes you gotta move forward. Just take it step by step. And then you’ll notice you’ve found your place…”

Just a bit more, you told yourself, moving closer. 

Just a bit more ended up being too much though. Before you realized it, your little jingle bells tinkled one last time before everything turned black. 

It was a whirlwind of bright lights and empty space that you felt like you were floating in. Gravity did not exist as you fell. You wanted to grab onto something but the only thing it seemed like you could do was scream into the void. 

It was a quick journey. Not even half a minute as you felt a force suddenly drag you towards a direction. Your back hit against a surface before it vanished and you fell through. You let out a loud gasp, bright colors filling your vision as you were thrown into a much warmer place.

Before you tumbled onto the floor, you quickly caught sight of the sharp edges of a christmas tree shape on the trunk of a tree. You rolled over, grunting as you landed on your back, your legs falling down quickly and your body becoming exhausted. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a bit but you slowly allowed yourself to feel the ground around you trying to make sure you were in fact on some kind of surface. 

Turning your head from side to side, you noticed you were back in the clearing of holiday trees. Only this time there was no Halloween one. Raising slowly to sit up, you took notice of how there was no snow covering the ground or pine trees that were losing needles. 

Instead the trees were barren almost, the leaves left on the branches ranging from a yellow to brown color. Most of them seemed to be on the floor, waiting to be picked up. 

There was a sudden squirming feeling under your legs, like an animal was trying to get out from under you. You frowned, scooting back and pulling your knees up to grab at whatever it was. It wasn’t furry, nor was it that large. It wiggled around, your eyebrows pinching together as you felt multiple limbs. 

“What’s this?” You asked yourself, pulling the object out from under you. 

When you finally grasped it fully, your eyes went wide as it suddenly grabbed ahold of your hand. Pulling it out, the thing hanging from your hand was another hand. However it was severed at the wrist. 

“Oh my Kringle!” You screamed, throwing the hand away from you. 

You gasped louder as it began to wiggle and suddenly upright itself. It scurried away behind a tree, catching your attention as something seemed to bend down to grab it. Whatever it was shuffled back from view, their foot being the last to be hidden. 

Tilting your head in confusion you realized it was a person who was standing on the other side. The voice you heard earlier was suddenly starting to make sense, so you gradually became more curious. 

“I know you’re there.” You called out, crawling closer to the tree. 

You sighed when they didn’t move nor say anything. You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking back to how the person singing felt so sad. 

“The song you were singing–are you okay?”

“Of course I am.” They quickly spoke up. 

Your eyebrows shot up, smiling to yourself that you got them to speak. “It didn’t sound like you were.” You continued. “Are you going to come out?”

“You are not from Halloween Town.” He told you. 

“I’m from Christmas Town.” You shook your head, the bells jingling from the top of your hat. “A bit much isn’t it?” You giggled, wiggling your feet with the same bells. 

He scoffed playfully. “Just a bit.” 

“You have an amazing voice. I wish to hear more of it, please.” You crawled closer to the tree. “Will you please come out?” 

You could hear them shuffling around in contemplation. It took a moment but slowly they walked out one foot after the other. It was something out of a fairytale seeing him for the first time. 

You began to hum for some reason, hearing the ring of a jingle bell go off in your ear. He was deliberate in the way he walked. He was careful, but still it looked graceful. The first thing that caught your attention though, were the stitches that stretched across his mouth. 

“You’re stitches–do they hurt?” You asked quietly, coming to a stand. 

You walked closer to him, hands twitching at your side as you wanted to reach up and touch him. 

“No.” He spoke up, watching you intently. 

You raised your hands, moving them closer to his face. But you caught yourself, stopping as you realized it would be rude to just touch him. 

“May I?’ You asked quietly, waiting for his reply. 

He looked down at your raised hands, your curious eyes on his scars. “Sure.”

You lightly skimmed your fingers across his mouth. The tips of your longer fingers touched at his lips while they moved across the bumpy patches. You were scared of hurting him, so you didn’t try pressing them harder into his skin when your curiosity peaked at how the skin parted and created a hole. You wondered if they would open up, your hand passing through his cheek. 

When you looked up at his eyes, you found him staring at something near the side of your head. Your large pointed ears twitched at his stare, causing him to flinch just the tiniest bits. His hands shook at his side, almost coming up. 

“You can go ahead.” You told him, moving your head to the side to allow him the space to touch your ears. 

He tentatively reached up, fingers grazing the shell of your ear just as yours touched his stitches. He started at the bottom before smoothly gliding upwards. It wasn’t until they began to touch the tips of your ears that you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your lips pressed together. He suddenly pulled back from you, your own hand falling from his face. 

“Sorry.” He quickly said, waiting for your reply. 

“It’s okay.” You beamed up at him. “They’re just sensitive.”

“Hongjoong!”

Both of you suddenly turned around, hearing the call. 

The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly grabbing you and pushing you back towards the Christmas Tree. 

“You have to go.”

“What? Why?” You questioned, looking around trying to find whoever had called.

“You are not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to go to other holidays.”

He continued, opening the door and about to shove you through until you stopped yourself. 

“But–your singing.” You quietly said. “I really loved it.”

He paused, lips pressing together. His eyes twinkled almost, as if he could he would be blushing from your compliment. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He told you softly. 

“Joong!” 

You suddenly turned around, ready to be pushed back into the tree but you had something to ask him first. 

“You have to go now.”

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 

He seemed stunned for a moment, looking back to where the sound of rustling leaves were heard. 

“Come tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

Your lips pulled up into a smile, feeling something warm fill your chest. Just as someone was about to enter the clearing, you felt the suction of the tree pulling you back in. 

“Goodbye.” You heard one last moment before falling. 

**

“Oh he was amazing, Mrs Claus!” You sighed, picking up the tinsel the old lady wanted to move. “He was so devastatingly pretty. Nothing could compare to him. And-And his singing! So hauntingly beautiful. It was alluring in such a way that left me breathless.”

“It sounds like you're in love, dear.” The jolly ole’ woman hummed, shaking around as she sprinkled something on some cookies. 

“You really think so?” You smiled bashfully, looking down at the gingerbread man you were decorating. 

You looked down at the cookie, eyebrows pulling up at the smirk the cookie seemed to be sporting. It have little triangles at it’s lips, the red icing popping out. Black icing covered it’s forehead in a line, stitches being show as though it had been put together. 

Looking up you noticed Mrs. Claus turning around with another batch, quickly shoving the sweet into your mouth to prevent her from seeing it. While you were too worried someone would catch on to your secret, you hadn’t even noticed that the cookie was created to perfection.

You could hear the other elves giggling at your antics.  

“Tell me, do you feel a warmth that comes from inside?” The old lady continued grinning. 

You swallowed before contemplating her question. Before long you realized she had been right, a soft smile falling on your lips as you thought about Hongjoong. 

“I've never felt so good before. This empty place inside of me is filling up.” You spoke quietly. 

“That's a good thing dear. No more worries.”

You decorated another batch of cookies, too preoccupied to even notice that you were creating some kinds of monsters along the men. But you were in the clouds, thinking about the man who you had come across. The elves only looked at you oddly, but didn’t make a comment because they could see that you were not about to answer. 

You continued on your way, out of the kitchen area. Just as you opened the door though, you flinched at the four men who were standing on the other side with wide grins on their faces. Well a wide grin on one of their faces. 

“Why are you just standing there?” You asked them. 

“We know where you went.” Wooyoung the first to always say something told you.  

You pushed them aside, continuing on your journey back to your house. “Where did I go?”

“You went through the tree.” Jongho spoke up. 

You tensed up but tried not to show it. 

“The Halloween tree.” Yeosang prattled. 

“Is he a monster?” Yunho asked. 

“Who?” You played dumb. 

“The man you're in love with.” Wooyoung giggled. 

“I'm not in love.” You shook your head, opening the door to the kitchen shop and walking out into the cold air. 

“We beg to differ. What is he?” Yunho asked. 

“He's nothing.” You spoke up without thought. 

“So there is someone.”

“No.” You stopped turning to look at them. “Drop it. There is no one.”

“You told Mrs Claus there was, though.” Yeosang said. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” You glared at all of them.

“We always do.” Jongho shrugged. “How do you think we knew Holly was secretly seeing Tinsel?”

You glared at the boys, feeling ticked with their wide grins. 

“I'm going home.” You declared, turning around. “Do not follow me!”

“Well when they say it like that I want to follow them.”

Yeosang kept his eyes on your retreating figure. More so the way you were walking through the snow without any trouble at all. They were all so used to you sinking in the snow and complaining about the cold that he was quick to notice you did none of those the moment they were outside. 

“Did you notice they didn’t sink into the snow?” Yeosang spoke up softly, watching as your feet seemed lightweight in the snow. 

“You think they’re finally getting into the Christmas spirit?” Yunho asked his friend. 

They thought about how you were talking about someone who seemed to have caught your attention. There was only one way to describe the way you had told Mrs. Claus about the person. The adjectives you had used were not ones they were used to and it was clear from where this person had come from. 

But whoever it was that had caught your attention, they started something that you were in desperate need of. 

“It’s some kind of spirit.”

**

It was a few days later when the four elves were finally able to follow you into the woods. They were pushing and shoving each other as each time they would lift a foot, their bells would jingle. But you were still none the wiser as you had something occupying your mind. 

They stilled for a moment behind a tree, almost falling onto the ground that seemed to be devoid of snow. Peaking over the other, they tried their best to see where you were going. And when you pulled open a door in one of the trees they were quick to understand. 

“They aren’t actually going there are they?” Yunho asked with wide eyes. 

You climbed the small steps, peering into the hallow tree. 

“I think they are.” Wooyoung gasped. 

Hearing their loud mouths, you turned around finding their bodies heading your way in a rushed manner. Your eyes went wide and you held your hands in front of you to keep them from pushing.

“(Y/N)!” Yeosang yelled, shoving into you. 

The world went black and you found yourself falling into the empty space you had grown used to these past few days. You could hear the boys screams and yells trying to find something to grab onto. 

With the impact on your back, you grunted when all of a sudden gravity made the four boys fall on you full force. You skid along the floor for a moment, groaning like you had the first time you came through the door. 

Once you got your baring together, you began to slap a hand on one of the boys. 

“What are you idiots doing!?” You pushed them off.

“Don’t hurt us!” Jongho raised his arms. 

“It seems we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to follow.”

You looked up, coming across four faces all looking down at you. 

“Hongjoong.” You quickly said. 

“Get off me!” You tried to shove Wooyoung off, the man shivering as he looked up at the other Halloween citizens. 

“They are monsters!” He sobbed, hiding in your stomach. 

“Who?” The one with horns asked with wide puppy looking eyes. 

“I know you are not talking about us, Darling.” Another grinned, his kanine teeth sharp as he looked at Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung whimpered again, hugging you closer once more. 

“Leave him alone, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, moving to help you up. 

“Is this your sweet?” You heard the giggle of one. 

He began playing the bell on your hat, smiling to himself as his large fluffy ears flickered from every sound they made. 

“Such a jolly little thing.” The other with sharp teeth spoke quietly, looking at you with a charming grin. 

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned, pulling you closer to him. 

“You know I love knew friends, Joongie.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Especially the adorable ones.”

He spoke directly to Yeosang and Yunho who stood off huddled behind Jongho. The two blushed at the man’s words, flustered from his compliment. 

“Welcome all of you to Halloween.” The one with dog ears spoke up. “We hope you enjoy your time here.”

He had moved to pick up Wooyoung, but the moment the man took a look at the werewolf’s face he began to blush a bright red. Wooyoung squeaked, looking up from the floor before scrambling into Jongho’s hold. 

You began to giggle, feeling Hongjoong’s hand squeeze yours tightly. There was something about the way Hongjoong’s friends were so friendly that made you more then excited to meet them all. 

“My name is San.” The one with wolf ears spoke up, a smile on his face as he waited eagerly for your friends to say something. 

“I am Seonghwa.” The vampire bowed at his waist, hand along his torso.

“Mingi.” The boy with horns and wide eyes said, looking hopeful at each of your friends. 

The elves all watched them curious eyes but they didn’t say anything else.

“Don’t be rude, boys.” You immediatly said, catching their attention. 

They bowed at their waists, introducing themselves to Hongjoong’s friends. You smiled greatfully at the way they all started talking as though they had known each other forever. 

Seonghwa made another suggestive comment that had left Wooyoung flustered and hiding behind Jongho.

“Are they all like that?” You giggled. 

“Only Seonghwa.” Hongjoong snorted. “Are your friends always like that?”

“Only Wooyoung.”

**

There was a breeze that swept through the trees bringing down leaves that seemed to be never ending. You reached out for one that had fallen in front of you, twirling it around from the stem. 

“Hongjoong.” You quietly spoke out loud, turning to the man who was laying on his back with his eyes closed. 

He hummed, lips barely being pulled into a smile as he was enjoying his time. You leaned closer, laying on your stomach. You played with the leaf, dragging it along his nose. He scrunched up, trying to hold in his sneeze. 

“What is it, Jingle?” He asked you after swatting you away. 

You tilted your head to the side, glancing down his body. 

“Are you able to–you know–” You wiggled your hand down towards his thighs, gesturing to what’s between his legs. 

Hongjoong’s eyes quickly shot open, a frown on his face as he realized what you were gesturing to. He looked at you with an odd face, eyebrows raised to the sky as his stitches pulled his cheeks. 

“Why are you asking about it?” He asked you.

“The others talked about those kinds of things and you didn’t say anything.” You sat up, the bell on your hat ringing. “You just stayed quiet and listened to them go on and on.”

He sat up and shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to.” He explained. “I’m not the kind of person who would do those kinds of things. Besides, I’m too busy to think about any of it.”

You thought about all the times that you were not able to hang out with Hongjoong. Especially when Halloween starts showing up. But you figured it was the same way with everyone else. Even the boys were sometimes too busy to hang out with you when Christmas was coming around. 

With the fact that you were not able to enjoy christmas the way everyone else was, things were different for you. You had all the time in the world to enjoy life, while others were busy. You could only imagine how much of a pain it was for Hongjoong being the head of Halloween. 

“You said you were the Pumpkin King, right?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, tilting it to the side as he wondered where you were going. 

You turned back around, scooting back so that you could fall into his arms. He happily held them open for you, allowing you to lay you back against his chest. His nosed at your cheek, feeling the warmth from your always red skin. 

“”It must be really hard to find someone.” You told him. 

He paused, stitches being pulled as a small smile fell onto his lips. “I don’t think it’s really all that hard.” He said. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes sparkling as they took in the soft way he looked at you. “So you do have someone?”

You were about to move out of his arms, causing him to giggle as he crushed you back between his arms. His head fell to your neck, giving you simple kisses that had you laughing. 

“It took years but I finally found someone who means more to me than being Pumpkin King.”

You turned around swiftly, legs moving to either side of his thighs. “More than being Pumpkin king?” You shook your head. “That’s one of the greatest honors a Halloween Town citizen can have. It’s like the Santa of Halloween.”

He laughed, smiling. He brought his forehead down to touch yours. “I was created to be the next Pumpkin King. The bones I have within me belonged to a past one and yet just like them I longed to find something that would fill an emptiness that would not go away.”

“There’s something out there, far from my home, a longing that I’ve never known.” He hummed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. 

He leaned back down against the blanket, bringing you with him. You placed your hands on his chest, allowing him to stroke your back as you got comfortable atop him. 

“That longing could only be filled by someone like you.”

You softly placed your lips against his lips, stealing his breath as your emotions rose. Your hand moved into his hair, softly scratching at the scalp. There was a moan that fell from his lips at the stimulation, which made you pull back in fright. 

You pulled yourself up, staring down at him. He was panting, eyes drooping as he looked up at you. 

“I’m not going to stop.” He said breathlessly. 

You gasped quietly, as he pulled you closer, quickly turning over to lay over you. He reached up to rub his hand against your cheek softly, staring at you with sharp eyes that seemed to make you melt. 

You raised your own hand, thumbing at his stitches that fell directly from his eyes. “I don’t want you to.”

His next kiss was electrifying. It was harsh and demanding but even though it seemed that way, it was clear neither of you knew what to do. It was not your first kiss but it was the first time you were feeling as though summer was creeping through your bones. 

His tongue swept out to touch your bottom lip, allowing you the room to open your mouth for him. This was out of the ordinary for you, never really knowing what it was like to be with someone in this way. 

But everything Hongjoon did, you didn’t dare want to question. It made you feel an excitement–a warmth you had been longing for, for such a long time. It was exhilarating, magnificent. It was terrifying to feel such a need for Hongjoong. 

You pulled away from him breathlessly, the cooling air coming from the fall breeze did nothing to cool you. The red you always had on your skin from the biting cold was no longer your body trying to warm you up to survive. This time the flush you had was because of Hongjoong. And he wanted to see much more of it. 

His thigh nudged itself in between your own, opening your legs for his body to move in between. There was something between his legs you had never felt before and it was leaving you to burn up. Your knees were pulled up, allowing Hongjoong the space to slot himself perfectly. 

The hands you had behind his head moved, wanting to feel more of his skin so you placed them under his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his shoulders. Before you realized it, the man leaned up, quickly taking off his shirt that had you leaning on your elbows to stare at him wide eyed. 

The stitches. The discoloration of each patch of skin. His muscles. 

Nothing could ever compare to the haunting beauty someone like Kim Hongjoong had. He was someone who was created to rule–someone who demanded attention in his own way. Even if he wasn’t completely his own, the way he was put together was meant to be one of a kind. 

“What?” He smiled at you, chuckling at the look you had. 

“I’ve never seen someone like you.” You spoke softly. 

Hongjoong frowned just for a moment, about to lean back and away from you feeling like there was something wrong. You quickly caught on though, reaching back up to pull him closer to you. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as your lips brushed his in a soft way. 

Once again, you rubbed at his stitches, this time the ones near his mouth. Opening your eyes he watched as you looked at him with such an intense stare it made him want to cry. 

“Someone like you means that nothing will ever compare to the kind of beauty you have.” You whispered. “In all my years of living–you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

You leaned back in to give him a kiss. This time you allowed him to take off your coat, the green fabric falling behind you as you climbed into Hongjoong’s lap. He was rushing though, seeming more attached to you as he laid you down again.

His hands moved under your shirt, pushing it up as he tried to reveal your breasts. The bra you wore was plain, nothing fancy because of the standard elf uniform. You would have never thought about dressing pretty for Hongjoong, but now that he is looking at you the way he is, you wished you had. 

However he didn’t seem to mind as he quickly pushed your bra cups up and over your nipple so he could see them. You squeaked, looking up at him, shoulders scrunched up causing your arms to push your boobs together more. 

Hongjoong started to smile, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You are so precious.”

You laughed, his body leaning over to give you a peck before he dove down to tongue at your chest. Your chuckle was cut off when his mouth encased a nipple. A sharp gasp left your lip, back arching to chase his tongue laving at you. 

You felt him snicker against your skin, so you glanced down to find him already smiling up at you devilishly as your nipple was caught between his teeth. You were getting tired of your shirt and bra being in the way so you made a rush to take them off. 

With the only thing left being your skirt and tights, Hongjoong took a moment to look at you. You wanted to feel self conscious, but the way his fingers skimmed your sides and touched you things couldn’t be going any slower. 

He took in a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

You nodded your head, wanting to reach for him again. 

“I need you to answer me.” His lips wobbled, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. 

“I love you, Hongjoong.” Was all you told him. 

His lips twitched, fingers digging into your skin for just a moment as he took in your response. “I love you too, Jingle.”

You raised your hips up, moving to pull your skirt and tights down in one go as the fall breeze finally touched your heated core. There was no need for underwear when you wore tights. And it seemed like Hongjoong appreciated it a lot because he seemed to straightened up at the sigh of you. 

“I’m going to take off my pants. Okay?” He told you, pulling at his belt. 

You sat up, confused why he was shaking as he took off his pants. You began to worry maybe he didn’t want to be one with you in that way. 

“Hongjoong you don’t have to do this.” You quickly told him, sitting up. Your hands went to stop him but he lightly shoved you away. 

“I want to.” He told you. “I just–Don’t exactly look like all the others. I don’t have the same appendage as everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. 

There wasn’t exactly anything you could compare it to. It’s not like the other elves go around telling stories of their escapades or how things worked within a relationship. You only could question him. Because as far as you could tell Hongjoong, this was going to be your first time doing anything like this. 

“It has–stitches.” He cringed at the thought, which only made you frown. 

You sat up, pulling your knees under you. Your hand went to his pants, making him freeze up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You began to pull them down, not removing the eye contact you had with him. But he was quick to look down at where you were going. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him honestly. “But I want you to know that no matter what you have you will always be someone beautiful to me.” 

He gulped, nodding his head. “You make me feel less dead inside.”

You smiled, fingers now dancing along his shaft. He moaned out quietly, and you felt it twitch up. 

“And you give me the warmth of a thousand melting snowflakes.” You pushed to touch his lips with yours. 

You felt him move to wrap your hand around his entire length, finally feeling the ridges of the stitches he was talking about along your palm. They were on the underside of his shaft, running along the entire length. You moaned from how warm he felt in your hand. 

You thumbed at the bumps, feeling against your lips how he would groan. He took off the rest of his pants, pushing and pulling to get you in his desired position. You could feel the warmth he was giving off on your core, and it made you even more heated than you cared to admit. 

“Hongjoong…”You whispered, feeling along his scarred skin. 

“I–I’m trying my best.” He told you, holding himself up with his arms. “This is my first–”

“It’s okay.” You smiled bashfully. “It’s mine too.”

Hongjoong’s lips pulled up feeling something swell in his chest that felt much deeper than anything he could have imagined. Neither of you could think of anything better than getting the chance to be with one another in this way. It was something Hongjoong could only dream of thinking that maybe he would be viewed as something out of the ordinary. 

Hongjoong took in a deep breath, looking down between your legs before moving to touch you. The gasp you let out had him flinching but when he saw your face, he found himself wanting to touch you in places that would have you gasping and out of breath. 

But he found himself losing his own breath, noticing how sensitive the tip of his cock was as his fingers grazed both your hole and his shaft. Each time you would move your hips up just to get his cock to rub against you, he found it harder to hold off from shoving in. 

He wanted to–gosh did he want to–but he wanted to enjoy the moment for a bit more. He didn’t want to rush. He didn’t want to reach the point of cumming prematurely because he wanted this to be good for you too. 

All he had to go by was off what the others would talk about. But this was much more than a simple hook up they seemed to do when they would go out into the real world. This was someone he loved with all his being. 

“Hongjoong.” You called him. 

He looked up from his stupor, pausing when he saw your glazed over look. “Tell me if it hurts.”

You didn’t have to say anything else as he was quick to start pushing in. 

Your toes curled, your legs clenched, you could feel every little bump that came with the stitches. It was something you could never describe. You had no idea how to voice to him that you wished you were able to feel it all over again for the first time. 

Hongjoong was going in slowly, choking gasps falling from his lips as every inch that he went in was covered by a pulsing warmth. He was panting, gritting his teeth together to keep from spilling too early. 

“Hongjoong.” You gasped. 

Your back arched, hands splayed against his chest. He leaned to one side, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure taking over. He pulled on your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes shot open at the new position, clenching around his length. 

“How–How is it this good?” He gasped out, hand messaging into your thigh. 

His breath hit the tips of your ears, the pointed flesh flicking from the tickle. All he got in response were your whimpers and soft whines. And when you began to move your hips when he bottomed out, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied manner to keep you occupied while his hips began to move back and forth. 

Your blunt nails dug themselves into his shoulders, pulling at the skin which caused a stinging coming from the stitches he had there. The stinging only made him groan. His hips went faster. 

There was an inexplicable feeling that was beginning to build in the both of you that had you trying to chase it. Hongjoong’s movement became frantic, while you wiggle your hips closer to his. With each rub against his pelvis you felt an even better feeling. And each time you moved up you it felt like you would touch it. So you tried your best to chase the feeling. 

When something started to pull, your pants turned into whimpers and cries in Hongjoong’s ears. 

“(Y/N)...” Hongjoong panted, fingers digging into your leg. 

He didn’t stutter his hips this time, rather than a rhythmic movement, he was pounding in you slowly and trying to get you to cum. And when you did, Hongjoong swore you could almost cut off all circulation with how tight you felt. 

You felt everything when you clenched down and saw stars. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated and your legs began to shake. But you knew that Hongjoong still needed more so you let him continue as you panted and cried. 

And when he came you nearly cried from how primal it was for him. His hand smacked next to your head, clenching at the ground. His forehead laid against yours, your breaths mixing from all the sharp intake of breathing you were doing. He stilled his hips, allowing his length to twitch inside you as you felt a warmth spill from him. 

He sniffled, softly kissing your lips as you both came down from your high. You smiled, feeling the twitches each muscle gave out and the tiredness seeped into you. Your fingers still wanted to touch him so they lightly played along the skin of his chest. 

Finally, Hongjoong leaned to the side, falling over and pulling you close to his side. With his body off of you, you could feel the wind brush past your heated skin. 

For the first time in such a long while the cold didn’t bother you. 

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[airybcby]

hi !! i wanted to request for your most recent event could you do ness with 🧁 and 🍊 ?? i love your writing so much :3 also if the events close please just ignore this! ^^

hi! tysm for giving me the opportunity to write abt ness, i love him!

an alexis ness orange citrus cupcake :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° let me love you goodbye

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — alexis ness x gn! reader, gn! reader, ex bf! ness, ness being peer pressured into breaking up, mentions of kaiser (once), pining (ness), reader does try to stay strong, second chance romance

♡ synopsis — when you and alexis ness broke up, it shattered something in you that never quite healed. well, or so you thought.

You hadn’t seen Alexis Ness in almost a year.

After he walked away—after you walked away—it became easier to think of him as someone from a chapter of your life you’d already closed. No texts, no calls, no random appearances at the coffee shop where you used to meet. It was like he’d erased you as easily as wiping dust from a mirror.

And maybe that was for the best.

Because loving Alexis Ness had been all-consuming.

He was kind, soft-spoken, and impossibly thoughtful when it came to you. But he was also impressionable—so much so that others’ opinions carried more weight than they should have.

And when Michael Kaiser told him that you were a distraction—someone holding him back from becoming his best self—he believed it.

He’d tried to explain, of course. Told you how much he loved you, how much it hurt him to let you go, but he couldn’t risk his future. He couldn’t let anything interfere with his soccer career.

You’d cried, argued, and begged him to see that you weren’t the obstacle he thought you were. That you were rooting for him, standing in his corner no matter what.

But it wasn’t enough.

So, when the two of you broke up, it shattered something in you that never quite healed.

When you saw his name listed as your partner for the marriage simulation program, your first reaction was disbelief.

Your second reaction was anger.

Of all the people they could have paired you with, why him? Why Alexis?

But as much as you wanted to march to the program administrator’s office and demand a change, you didn’t. Instead, you gritted your teeth and resolved to survive the next few weeks.

It was just a simulation. Nothing more.

You could handle being around him again.

The first day was awkward, to say the least.

“Hey,” he greeted you at the door of the shared apartment, his voice careful, like he was afraid you’d bolt.

“Hey,” you replied flatly, stepping inside with your suitcase.

The apartment was small but cozy—a living room that flowed into a tiny kitchen, and two bedrooms tucked away in the back.

“Uh, I took the room on the left,” Alexis said, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve. “But if you want it, we can switch.”

“I don’t care,” you said, brushing past him.

The air between you was heavy, filled with all the words you hadn’t said to each other in a year.

The first few days were a study in avoidance.

You spoke when necessary—coordinating chores, reviewing assignments—but nothing more.

The points staring at the two of you in your living room, the bright red number of '2'...only because you'd split the chores. Other couples were already in the hundreds.

It was easy for them, they may have actually liked their partner.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart twisted every time he smiled, or the pang of longing when he casually said your name, like he hadn’t shattered your heart a year ago.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. Not anymore.

But then, one evening, everything changed.

The two of you were tasked with planning a mock anniversary celebration as part of the program.

“You always liked candlelight dinners,” Alexis said quietly, glancing at you from across the table.

The words caught you off guard. “You remember that?”

He smiled faintly. “I remember everything.”

You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle between you. “It doesn’t mean anything, Ness. It’s just a simulation.”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name. Regret? Hope?

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t respond.

Later that night, as you cleaned up the mock dinner, he spoke again.

“I was wrong,” he said suddenly.

You froze, your hands stilling on the dish you were drying.

“About everything. About you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “You weren’t a distraction. You were the only person who ever truly supported me, and I was too stupid to see it.”

Your chest ached as you turned to face him. “Why are you telling me this now, Ness? A year ago, I begged you to stay. I begged you to believe in us. And you walked away.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes glistening. “And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay.”

“I’m not asking for everything to be okay,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m asking for another chance. To prove that I’m not the same person who let you go.”

For a moment, you considered walking away. Turning your back on him the way he had on you.

But then you saw the sincerity in his eyes—the same eyes that once looked at you like you were his whole world.

And maybe, just maybe, you could believe in him again.

The simulation ended a few weeks later, but your story with Alexis Ness didn’t.

This time, he stayed.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt whole again.

the ending is rlly crappy but my brain wasn't working

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[emyn-arnens]

Of Building and Hewing

@arafinwean-week day 1: Eärwen, family, pre-Darkening | AO3

Finrod did not build castles in the sand so much as he dug, little fingers plunging deep into the sand, digging down to where it was damp and dark, burrowing tunnels with his fingertips and molding pillars of sand, his brow furrowed in concentration as he followed a design only he knew. As he dug, the sand shifted and fell, and a pillar buckled beneath the weight of the sand, then another, and his creation collapsed.

He frowned. 

Eärwen stroked a loose curl from his forehead. “Try again, Ingoldo. You will get it right.”

“I will get better,” he said with the grave certainty of children.

“Of course you will,” Eärwen said, brushing his cheek with her knuckles.

(Later, when he returns and bears himself like a king and speaks of caverns and a kingdom hewn beneath the earth and his cousins who drove him like a beggar from his own city into a place beneath the ground darker still, she will realize. But he will not dig again, nor suffer to be led into the dark sea caves that dot the coastline.)

— — —

Angrod labored long over his castle—if a castle it was. Eärwen might have called it a fortress or a keep, but the Eldar had as yet no words for such things. It was tall and wide, with walls built thickly, the sand packed tightly—a thing of strength rather than beauty. 

“Is it a castle?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“A palace or a mansion?”

He frowned. “No. I cannot name it. But I had to build it.”

She stroked his hair. “Whatever it is, it shall withstand many waves.”

(She will realize, later, when Angrod returns and his hands are stronger than she remembers, and he speaks of a watch upon the North and flames in the night that burned the snows, and a fortress that he tore down with his own hands, just as he had built it.)

— — —

Aegnor did not build but sat staring over the sea, his eyes round and wistful. Of all her children, he most enjoyed the stories she wove of the land over the sea and the people and creatures who lived upon it—of mansions over the sea and under the sea, and of halls filled with people that were not Elves but something akin.

(Aegnor does not return. When Finrod returns, he speaks for his brother and tells of the halls of Bëor, hidden amongst the pine forests of the North, and of the Wise-woman whose hand Aegnor clasped in the darkness and whom he followed over the hills of Dorthonion and into the mansions of Mandos, never to leave.)

— — —

Galadriel did not merely build; she perfected. One castle after another grew beneath her small hands, each bigger than the last but none big enough, nor grand enough, nor beautiful enough. 

“How beautiful!” Eärwen exclaimed, pointing to the shell-crusted turrets of one castle.

Galadriel eyed the castle scornfully. “No, not yet.” She cast her gaze to the other castles, each a variation upon the last, but with something more—a taller pinnacle, a lacework of shells, a coronet of towers. And she cast them down with a sweep of her arm and began again. 

(When at last her daughter returns from over the Sea, she speaks of the kingdoms she left behind her, each mightier than the last, and of how she shaped them beneath her hands and made them fairer than the last, but none so mighty nor so fair as to endure.)

[signedurnamemarjorie]

How the different Taylor Swift eras would act if they had a crush on you <3

A/N: this is just a cute, hypothetical "what if"! Obviously I'm well aware that the different eras aren't their own people but I think it's fun to imagine that they're each different characters <3

°♡°

Debut~

She may act shy around you but she secretly actually really enjoys being around you. She just wishes she had the confidence to tell you how she feels, but for now she'll settle for sitting alone in her room in longing while she strums her guitar

Fearless~

She would be more open about her feelings towards you, but much like Debut I think she may wait for you to make a move before she does. She probably will say something though if you take too long to catch on

Speak Now~

She strikes me as the kind of person to secretly pine for someone for so long before just blurting out her feelings for them one day randomly (I mean she literally crashed a wedding to do just that so it makes sense for her to bottle everything up until she finally explodes)

Red~

Tries to act like she sees you as "just a friend" but no one is buying it. She's still getting over being so badly hurt the last time, so it may take a while for her to act on her feelings and pursue a relationship, even if she's already confessed to liking you

1989~

Although she's greatly obvious with her affections, she will deny just how much she really likes you while simultaneously not being able to shut up about you, much to everyone's exasperation. Her words and actions are contradictory in every possible way

Reputation~

After everything she's been through, it would take her a little bit to truly accept the fact that she has feelings for you. I think she's secretly insecure and can't seem to wrap her head around you viewing her as anything other than a "snake", much less as you actually liking her back

Lover~

Very much in love with you and literally everybody knows. She honest to God won't shut up when it comes to rambling about how amazing you are, and that includes when it comes to talking to you in person. Seriously, it's so hard to get a word in sometimes

Folklore~

More reserved with her feelings of infatuation, but doesn't try to hide her crush on you, she just doesn't announce it like others may do (cough, Lover, cough). She would however happily talk about her crush on you if asked, but she won't be the first one to bring it up

Evermore~

Will literally never, ever say anything about it, preferring to silently pine over you and wallow in her tears when she dreams of you with someone else. Would probably pass out from disbelief if she discovered you liked her back

Midnights~

Even more contradictory than 1989. On the one hand, why should she worry about whether you like her or not? She's a literal goddess, basically a queen in her own right. Then again, the mere thought of you rejecting her sends her into a deep depression for days. It's confusing, to say the least

The Tortured Poets Department~

Avoids you completely. She can't run the risk of falling in love and getting hurt again. While she may fantasize about what life could possibly be like with you, that's all they are, fantasies. Maybe in another lifetime you're together...

°♡°

That's all! Thanks for reading <3

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 40

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Beneath The Ashes

Notes: Hightlighted some of the warnings for this one just in case.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  40/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

How much time had passed? You didn’t know, but it must have been more than just a few seconds since the fall. You pushed yourself off of the ground slowly, wincing at how sore your arm felt from trying to stop yourself in the fall. Apart from one burning torch on the wall, the place was terribly dark, a void to the eyes. You grabbed that torch, using it to light your way as you climbed back up those steps to the door. The door was shut again, like a large rock was blocking it against any movement.

“Lancelot?” you called out for him multiple times and no response came.

It felt like you found yourself into a different world within those shadows. And again you felt that strange presence around you. Fear of the unknown set itself into your bones, with deep breaths to stay calm you went down the steps again. The haunting whispers began to fill your ears with each step further into the darkness. You hoped you hadn’t taken the first steps into a maze.

Your name was called out again, a voice you did not recognize. You swiftly turned, holding out the torch to see if anyone was there, but by instinct you knew that the origin of this voice was no longer of this earth. It made you draw your sword, it would be of little help if forced to fight this ancient presence but it made you feel a little better to be holding a weapon. You began to search the place for another exit, it was pathway after pathway and you tried to light the torches that you found on the wall along the way with your flint but they refused to burn no matter how much you cursed at them. The darkness made it hard to navigate the place and you carved into the stones to help try and keep track of where the staircase had been. The deeper you traveled into this underground structure, the stronger the presence became. Your vision got blurrier, you heard something nearby, a person? Quickly you followed the sound, and what you found was shocking.

A Red Paladin was striking at a cowering child with a scourge, the boy was on the ground almost curled up in a ball with only his back to be used as a target, he used his arms to cover his head and face from the damage.

“HEY!” You furiously charged forward.

Then everything changed, the stone walls were gone, and you found yourself in a place that looked so very familiar. It left you disoriented, frightened, but mostly confused. Had you gone mad? This couldn’t be real, what were the Old Gods doing? You were in a tent with the child, who could not have been more than ten years of age, and the paladin. He was still striking the terrified boy, the scourge had cut through the worn-down shirt the boy was wearing.

“You’ll bleed for that, boy!” The paladin struck at him again. “You will starve as long as you do not serve!”

Real or not, you weren’t going to ignore that. “Get away from him!”

When you lunged at the paladin with your sword, the blade went right through him, as if he was a ghost. Powerless you had to watch as he struck the boy with the scourge again, not once did the child beg for mercy or weep. There were only quiet yelps of pain and it made your stomach turn.

You begged the Hidden to make it stop. “Please… why are you showing me this? Stop this!”

The paladin stopped hitting the boy and threw to scourge at his feet. “Learn to cleanse your sins, boy. Or we will do it for you.”

With that threat, the paladin left the tent. Only then did the boy allow himself to quietly weep, away from judging eyes. You hurried to the child, trying to touch his shoulder but your hand went right through him. Perhaps you were the ghost… Oh you wished he could hear the words of comfort you spoke, the promises to help…

Finally the child lifted his head from the protection of his arms and upon his cheeks were the markings you knew so well. The boy who would grow to become their Weeping Monk had just received a violent punishment. Tears fell down your cheek at the horrible realization that you were trapped in a vision of Lancelot’s past. Through the tears in his shirt, you could see that the first of his scars had already formed. You saw him reach for the scourge and tried with all your willpower to take it from his hands to no avail.

You turned around, covering your eyes in shock at what would follow. “No, no, no… please. Please, don’t make me watch, please, I beg you…”

When you opened your eyes again, the sun was on your face and you were standing outside in between the familiar tents of the paladin camp you had spend so much time in. Was this the Hidden, or the gods they had once prayed to, that were causing this to happen? The paladins walked around, none ever truly looking at you but looking through you like you weren’t there. And you weren’t, these were days long passed. The voice of Father Carden reached your ears and you searched from where it was coming from. It led you to another tent and you cautiously stepped inside. You nearly fell again when noticing too late how close Father Carden was to the entrance of the tent, luckily you kept your footing. Then your heart sank at the sight of Lancelot, sitting on his knees at an alter, his back full of fresh bloodied wounds from the scourge. The priest spoke to him.

    ~“When she returns, she will be kept bound and in a guarded tent. I should not have put this task on you, I see how her presence has affected you, my son. You have made mistakes I had not expected of you.”~

    This had been after you had escaped? You went over to Lancelot, touching him was not possible again, your hand went through him like the touch of a ghost. “Lancelot…” He looked so broken and tired. And Father Carden had witnessed this?

    ~“I want her with me, Father.”~

    You couldn’t believe he had been brave enough to say this to Father Carden. That he would even say it at all… He was still with the paladins, expected to be devoted only to the scriptures, this could have meant severe punishment. And this… this proved he felt something even then…

He had tilted his head down, pressing his eyes shut. You could hear him utter ‘Please’, a plea that had been meant for no other ears than those of the God he once served. The priest had voiced his dismay over that confession.

    ~“You cannot let her taint your path to salvation. I thought I had driven the weakness out of you. She is not raised with the scriptures. Her Feyblood still calls to her.”~

    Again, Lancelot remained composed until Father Carden left the tent, then he began to tremble. You had dropped to your knees at his side, hand hovering near his cheek that this vision would not allow you to touch. You wished he could have heard you when you told him that you were with him now and that all would be well.

Your sight began to blur again, the vision faded out from your eyes and after blinking a few times you found yourself knelt down on the cold stones of the pathway again.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Lancelot was frantically searching for another way to the lower level after having tried to break that door down. Only when that door shut again did he sense the power that held the door in it’s hold. He tried to use the Sword of Power on the door, cursing at the bloody thing that he’d destroy it and this whole castle if these spirits caused you harm.

He had seen the way you fell, how the door slammed shut against him when he tried to stop it from happening. To say he was furious at these spirits was an understatement. He had not stopped shaking since he heard the frightened scream flee your lungs at the fall.

There was no other entrance to be found that led down, he returned to the door and tried the only thing he had not tried before. He put his palm down against the door, recalling Merlin’s words from earlier.

It was awakened by strong emotions and could also be controlled by it. And his emotions were a storm threatening to tear everything down into it’s path now. He felt the power surge through his veins towards his fingertips, and still he recoiled at the strength of which the green flames came from his hand and violently forced the door to slam open, it rattled in it’s hinges this time.

He grabbed one of the torches on the wall and descended the steps fast, calling out your name over and over again while ignoring the whispers of his ancestors in his ears that pleaded for his attention. The second he set foot into the underground area, the torches lit aflame for his presence as if they welcomed him. He ignored the Hidden until it made him halt, something was coming, he could feel it. And just as that feeling came over him, his vision became unfocused, blurring out his surroundings. He could feel that strange presence now and how it weighed down upon him.

    ~“Dark angel…”~

    For only a moment his sight had darkened, and when it returned he was no longer where he had been seconds ago. Still, this place was familiar to him. Ravenwick… your old home… your bedroom to be exact.

    ~“No! Stop!”~

    A belt rained down upon the back of the child. He did not even care how he ended up there, all he cared about now was protecting this young girl and he charged at the man who was so cowardly to harm a child. His sword went through the man like it had struck nothing but air.

“No…” he could not stand to see this happen.

He kept trying to put an end to this cruel attack. And then he noticed, he had fought this man before. The Lord of Ravenwick, a younger version of him. Realization and horror filled his eyes, he focused on the girl crying in the corner of the room as she tried to go and hide behind her bed.

He’d recognize those eyes everywhere. How sickly you looked, dehydrated, weak, unsteady on your legs. So young, so very young, not older than nine years of age.

Aldith grabbed hold of your arm, undoubtedly bruising it.

    ~“I told you not to steal from our table!”~

    The piece of bread was on the floor, it looked like it had been stomped on. Was this punishment for taking some bread? Aldith was rough, pulling at your arm so hard he feared he’d see the bastard dislocate it. You were thrown to the floor, one of your books was thrown at your head and it hit the back of it. Aldith’s voice thundered into the room.

    ~“I will let you starve to death! I’ll cut off your hands and feed it to the hounds!”~

    ~“Please! Father, no!”~

    He turned his head when Aldith struck you again, unable to bear the sight of it anymore. Such brutality towards a frightened child, it sickened and infuriated him. At last Aldith left your bedroom, slamming the door shut and bolting it closed. You sank to your knees and crawled into the narrow space between the wall and the foot of your bed. He got closer, seeing the damage that had been done.

Bruised all over, nose bloodied, a set of eyes that bore no hope anymore. You began to crawl towards the bread that Aldith must have trampled on purpose, your hunger forcing you to still eat it. This was how you had lived before Cassian traded you away?

He thought back to how things had been for you the first days with the paladins. How often you had flinched from him… And after his coldness towards you, you had found it in your heart to forgive him…

He knelled down near the younger version of you, speaking words of comfort your ears could not hear, “I will do right by you. I swear it.”

The whispers of his ancestors rang into his ears, warning him before the change happened. His vision blurred again, darkening for only a second before he found himself into another room of the same manor in Ravenwick. He had been there before, once in the darkness of night and once when he had tried to convince Aldith to return you to Father Carden. This time he saw you walk into the room, looking just the way you did when he first met you. Aldith and Cassian looked surprised to see you there it seemed.

    ~“Father…”~

    You looked shaken and tired, what had happened?

  ~“You’re alive?!?”~

    That filth of a half-brother had sounded appalled. And if he could have gone back in time to this moment he would have began planning this imbecile’s death that very second.

    ~“Explain yourself.”~

    Aldith showed no concern over the state you had been in. It was as if it was nothing more than a nuisance. Your answer was so very quiet and full of caution.

    ~“The Weeping Monk let me go.” ~

    He grimaced at hearing his former title fall from your lips. This was just after he had met you… he couldn’t help but get closer to you, seeing how weary of life you looked. He reached out, wishing he could have been there with everything he knew now, but his hand moved through the ghost of your past. Cassian’s appalling behaviors knew no bounds.

    ~“He killed the others, tried to kill me, but let you go?!? What did you do?”~

    ~“I didn’t do anything.”~

    ~“You must have done something. Did you let him use you?”~

      Hearing the insinuation left him disgusted. The sellsword had no shame and not a single speck of compassion towards you. He followed the remainder of the conversation. You were blamed for being disobedient, for being a distraction to Cassian when he was meant to be focused on robbing the paladin camp. Aldith agreed with his son that the guilt was yours alone to carry. Aldith showed no mercy when he struck you in the stomach so hard it had send you to your knees.

Lancelot stepped back, his stomach cramped up at the sight of you having had to undergo such vile treatment, it made him feel physically sick. The Hidden had mercy upon him, his vision blurred again and after blinking a few times he found himself back in the underground pathways beneath the castle.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  After returning from the vision you were trapped in, the atmosphere felt palpably different. The odd presence no longer felt as heavy, as if it finally achieved what it had wanted. The torches were all aflame, providing enough light to see well. You kept marking the walls as you searched for another exit, and when you found a closed door you hoped it was your way back into the castle. This time the door opened by it’s own will, your hand had stopped mid-reach for the handle. You took a step into the doorway but were pulled back. Your startled scream echoed between the stone walls.

“Are you alright?” Lancelot spoke your name with such worry, repeating the question while cupping your face into his hands. “Are you harmed?”

You gripped hold on his jerkin, hoping to feel the warmth of him instead of reaching into air. “Are you really here?”

“I am here.” He was inspecting your head and if you stood balanced, searching for any sign of injury.

You hoped he believed what you were to tell him, and that he didn’t think you just hit your head too hard. “I saw your past, Lancelot, the Old Gods gave me a vision.”

He nodded, letting his gaze settle upon your eyes. “I experienced a vision as well, one of your past.”

Memories of all the embarrassing moments in your life filled your head. “What-… What did you see?”

He brushed his hand over the side of your head, a soothing gesture. “They showed me the treatment you underwent at the hands of Aldith and Cassian in Ravenwick.”

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologized, it just didn’t sit well that he could have seen one of the many beatings you’ve undergone.

“No.” He shook his head. “You do not apologize for what is not your crime. I saw where your scars came from, I saw him use the belt on you. I saw what happened after we first met, how they blamed you…” He brought his face close to yours, speaking right into your ear, “And if they had still been breathing, I would hunt them down and put their corpses at your feet, but not before they suffered for all they have done to you.”

Your eyes widened at him, at how he had spoken with true conviction. “Lancelot…”

He refused to take it back, he would not pretend to be merciful after that vision. He spoke the vow close to your lips, “If anyone lays a hand on you again, they will loathe the day they were born. This I promise.”

It made you wonder what he had truly seen to react in such a way, you could feel the rage in him that he tried to hide from your eyes and see the way he looked at you now.

He took a breath and proceeded to put his lips to your forehead, lingering for a moment. His voice a whisper, “Do you know how far I would go to keep you safe?”

He would bathe his hands in blood, challenge the gods themselves, and trade his own life for another day with you.

Your eyes had fluttered shut. If only he knew what just his voice already did to you. “I have an inkling of it.”

He leaned back, thumbs brushing along your markings. “Now, tell me, are you hurt?”

You decided to tell him the truth, “My bottom and arm feel sore from the fall. And I’m quite certain I was unconscious for a bit.”

“Hold out your hand. See if you can make a fist.” He instructed and saw that you could do it. “No pain?”

“No.” You shook your head.

“That is good. I do not think it is broken.” He touched your arm, seeing if you could still bend it well. “Bruised possibly. What worries me is what damage the fall did to your head.”

The jest fell, “Are you going to see if my rear is fine too?”

His eyes locked on your face right away, smirking whilst giving a scolding look. “Perhaps later. But let Pym see if she can help, she is our healer now after all.” He saw you nod. “What did you see of my past?”

Your small smile fell, but he surely had seen you hesitate, hiding it was no use. “I saw how the paladins pushed you to use the scourge on yourself when you were just a boy. And I saw you speak of me to Father Carden.”

“What was said?” he quickly asked.

“You told him you wanted me with you.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, as if he was embarrassed that you had witnessed him at that point in his life. “I remember it was the day you fled from me, I was in ruins when Father came to speak to me.”

“I saw. Back then, were you already feeling more for me than just friendship?” you wondered out loud.

He was pensive. “I believe I was afraid to acknowledge that possibility. But a dream I had not long before that solidified that fact.”

You locked onto that confession right away. “You dreamed of me while you were still a monk? What happened in the dream?”

There was a tug at the corner of his lips. “You stabbed me with the dagger I gave you.”

That was disappointing, but understandable considering the circumstances. “I thought it was going to be something different.”

He risked it, “You wore a chemise.”

“Ah, there it is.”

“And you taunted me, behaving licentious.”

“You thought it proper to dream of a friend like that?”

“I had no control over it.”

Your brow arched, a cheeky smile was plastered on your face. “Poor man. Having to dream of me in a chemise.”

Almost did he roll his eyes when you kept teasing him about it and he tried hard not to smile. “The reality has proven to be better.”

You were hit with the memory of what had happened the last time you wore a chemise. There was no chance that he wasn’t trying to get you flustered. “Really?”

The door was opened to flirtation and he eagerly invited himself into it. “Certainly.”

You looked at how he let his knuckles brush down your arm. “I might wear it again tonight.”

The prospect of it caused his eyes to glister in the light of the flames. The slight softening of his features warmed your heart. Under the intensity of his eyes you forced your own down to his chest, feeling the fluttering in your chest caused a chill to run down your back.

He cupped the side of your neck and whispered against your temple, “Tonight you should rest. Or have you forgotten how close you were to breaking your neck not long ago?”

You rolled your eyes and stepped back. “I have not forgotten.”

“That is a good sign.” he smirked.

It was a clear jab towards the state your head and memory was in. You decided to let it slide. “Why did they show these visions to us?”

He hummed. “They searched our memories and saw our lowest moments.”

You were trying to make sense of the matter. “Why do you think I saw your past and you saw mine?”

He pondered on that for a moment, then blinked in realization. “They wanted us to see what they had seen in our pasts. It’s our emotions… what Merlin said… our magic is awakened by strong emotions and can also be controlled by them. Perhaps the Hidden and these other Old Gods hope to strengthen our power by it?”

It was appalling. “Rather cruel of them to show us the other suffering while being unable to do anything to stop it.”

He was no stranger to harsh tactics to bring the best out of a soldier. “But it works, do you not feel it running through your veins now?”

He took hold of your hand, urging you to tune into your senses. When you closed your eyes and shut out all distractions, you felt the power gently flow through you.

“It’s right there, is it not? Just below the surface.” He saw you open your eyes and nod.

“But did they have to nearly break my neck for that…” you grumbled, bothered by how reckless the Old Gods had been.

“Your fall may not have been their intention.” he said.

“It’d better not have been.” you grumbled.

He turned to the door you had opened. “What is through there? Another path back into the fort?”

The door behind you was still open, unlike the one who had send you flying down all those steps. “I have no idea, I haven’t gone in there, you found me just as I had wanted to step inside.”

“Remain at my side.” Lancelot moved past you and walked through the doorway. Waiting just for a moment to see if you indeed stayed close.

Once passed the doorway, you arrived into a room with a high ceiling. The room was large and beautiful, large paintings hanged up on the walls, chandeliers lighted the whole place. It was nothing compared to the pathways or the rest of the castle, the state of the room was almost pristine.

“Gods… it’s beautiful…” You stared at the stone pillars that were beautifully crafted and had a pattern of vines along them.

Lancelot was speechless for a moment, staring up at the paintings. He approached them with you. A large painting of a tree was in the center of the wall, standing out above all others.

It was a known imagery among Fey kind. “The tree of life.”

The symbol he had once seen on Brother Otto’s chest as he lay dying was entangled in the painted roots of the tree.

You were tempted to touch the beautiful painting but he caught your wrist to prevent it, clearly not fully trusting that it was safe. “Do you think it is here because the Fey clans began with ours?”

His hand slid down to take hold of your own. “Possibly.”

He looked to the painting at the left of it. Whilst you looked to the one to the right half-hidden out of your sight behind a pillar.

“Look.” You gave his hand a little tug.

He followed your gaze and decided to inspect the paintings on the right. Most of them depicted people, all with the marks of the Ash Folk. But you made him halt at the painting that had been hard to see from where you stood earlier. The woman in the painting had markings, light like yours were, and eyes that same striking color of your lover’s. Surely, he saw it too?

“Are they-”

“Yes.” He was quiet for a while, just looking at the painting with a haunted look in his eyes.

He knew. He knew it was them. His father and mother. He knew… he remembered now.

The moment had to be bittersweet, for him to see his parents for the first time in many years but also only in the form of a painting, sorrow and joy had never been so close together.

His mother, Elaine, had gorgeous golden hair that was in an intricate braided hairstyle. His father, Ban, had deep chestnut hair that almost sat on his shoulders but curled just above them.

“This must have been before Hector and I were born.” He was saddened by the lack of a painting that depicted his infant brother.

You embraced his arm, hoping to offer some silent comfort.

He quietly began to speak, “Merlin told me that my father felt so joyful when I was born that he went around and showed me to everyone. Apparently Ban put me in Merlin’s hands when I was a babe, presenting me to him with immense pride. My mother scolded him for putting me in Merlin’s hands without even asking the magician first.” A careful smile curved his lips. “According to Merlin my mother was always walking the line between gentleness and fury, and my father knew exactly how to move her from one side to another.”

Your head rested against his arm. “They must have been quite a pair.”

He leaned into you more. “She was quiet. He was loud. They were trying to escape these lands, news had reached them that Father Carden was seeking a particular kind of Fey, our kind…” He stepped away, pacing around the room a bit. “This was once their home. Until they left to avoid having to raise their children in the midst of war. If Merlin was speaking the truth, then Ban put this curse on the castle to protect it from the enemy. An attempt to save what could have been the last reminder of our clan.”

This room held the history of the Ash Folk. Bookcases filled one wall of the room, shelves filled of knowledge that may have been believed to be lost to the world. Two large wooden chests stood at each side of what looked like a large table with a diorama version of the castle and it’s surroundings atop of it. It was a beautiful way to have build a map, detailed and quicker to read than a normal map. It caught his eyes and he was at that table within seconds, seemingly loving how a replica of the area was build on it.

He picked up a small wooden horse carved from wood. “Red Spear’s crew will be bringing our horses over.”

You watched as he continued to pick up and look at these sculpted figurines with silent awe in his eyes. It was quite endearing to see him so interested, like a child being given something they had dreamed of.

“This is very useful.” He looked at how the small trees were replicated with small twigs and straw for branches. “This shows us what they may have found important in the area.”

You leaned with your back against the table, smiling as he studied the diorama. “You are adorable.”

He was taken aback by the sweet tone in your voice, for a second he appeared timid. “I’ve seen maps like this before, but nothing as incredible as this.”

“I can tell. Should I be worried you will spend your days playing with it?” you chuckled.

A cheeky smirk formed on his lips. “As incredible as this map is, I prefer to play with something else.”

Your mouth fell agape, and you made light of the comment. “Unfortunately for you I am not on a table for you to play with.”

He dared it. “That can be arranged, can it not?”

“Dear gods!” You swatted at his arm playfully. “There is a painting of your parents right there!”

He found your reaction terribly amusing. “I believe they would be glad their son has brought home such a fine and fair woman.” His smile faltered all of a sudden. “This was home once…”

The pain in his voice was audible to you. “And it could be home for you again.”

“For us.” He bumped the toe of his boot against one of the chests on the floor. “Let us see what is in here.”

With the help of one of his daggers he pried the lock of the chest open, perhaps even hoping to find more figurines for the display. But neither you or him had expected to find what was inside of that chest.

Gold. The chest was filled nearly to the brim with coins that shined under the light of the chandeliers, not a silver one in sight amongst them.

“Good gods…” you gasped at the sight of it.

He stared down at it in disbelief. “Well, I believe this means we will be able to purchase what we need for the Fey to be comfortable here.”

Upon seeing all this gold, that was his first reaction? He truly did have a good heart.

Percival’s voice rang from behind you, “Is that gold?!?” The boy’s hands were in that chest the blink of an eye later, flabbergasted by how it truly were coins all the way to the bottom of it.

Lancelot had waited for a few seconds before making the boy move his hands out of the chest, alarmed by the lone presence of the boy. “Why are you not with the others?”

“Because I was looking for you.” Percival said oh so matter-of-factually.

Lancelot did not like the answer. “Did the Green Knight not tell you to stay at his side?”

Percival knew he was in trouble. “Maybe.”

He narrowed his eyes at the child who tried to outwit him. “And why have you not listened?”

The boy looked so caught in his mischief, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to be with you.”

The scolding look vanished from Lancelot’s face no matter how hard he tried to keep it. You bit your tongue, seeing the Ash Man fail to be stern when the boy was wrapping him around his fingers effortlessly.

Percival pointed at the gold and visibly resisted the urge to take a step closer to it again. “Can I have some?”

He could not blame the boy for the question, the Fey suffered from poverty and famish and Percival had not been spared from it. “We need to tell the others of this first, Percival, to decide what must be done with it.”

“We can purchase food with it!”

“Yes.”

The boy daydreamed before your very eyes. “And so many sweetrolls…”

“Easy there.” you said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll hear what the Green Knight thinks first.”

Percival hurried to the exit of the room, too impatient to wait for the decision to be made. “Come on then, hurry up!”

You arched a brow, whispering to Lancelot, “You do know he slipped some coins in his sleeve?”

Lancelot held back a chuckle. “I know.”

And he’d pretend not to know, for there was not enough coin in the world to repay the boy for offering the spark of hope that had saved his life that night.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  A few hours later all had gathered in the room around the table. The other chest had been opened as well and contained the same contents that were in the other chest, but some jewels and gemstones were included on top of it. Merlin looked happy to stand among the history of the Ash Folk, having stared at the painting of Lancelot’s parents for a while before joining the others standing around the table.

Arthur made the first suggestion after they were shown what was found. “We just divide it again. Like we did with the coin we found in Ravenwick.”

Gawain seemed to think about agreeing to that option, but he awaited other opinions.

“No.” Red Spear stood in front of her crew, none of them looked very interested in the coin anymore. “This coin can keep hundreds fed and clothed. Dividing it between ourselves makes us as selfish as the Red Paladins. We are not beasts!”

Arthur got really quiet, really fast. He clearly valued her opinion on the matter.

“Ay.” The crew agreed with their captain. They may have plundered and stolen, but they were not heartless monsters who would leave people starving like the paladins did.

“She is right.” Gawain concurred. “This gold puts us at an advantage. We can purchase flower to make bread, armour to protect ourselves, wood and stone to make this castle a fort any enemy will fear to attack.”

“This is for the Fey.” you agreed. “To rebuild what was taken from us all.”

Percival chimed in. “And for sweetrolls.”

“Oh, yes!” Pym agreed with Percival on that.

The whole room looked at the big grin on Percival’s face. Then began the discussion on how to keep the coin safe from being stolen by those with ill-intent, that was when Merlin decided to speak up.

“The Hidden will not let those they cannot trust into this room. You said you could not open the door until they allowed it?” Merlin shook his head a little, a secret smile on his face. “Rest assured even the Old Gods, who’s presence lingers within these walls, will not be kind to those who tread into this place with the intent to rob their heir of his inheritance.”

Lancelot was leaning over the table, but looked at Merlin. “You suggest just leaving the gold here?”

Merlin gave a slow nod. “Yes. I suggest we put our faith in your ancestors to protect what has been safe for all those years under the curse.”

Lancelot looked to Gawain for his opinion on it. “Green Knight?”

Gawain stood, arms crossed over his chest, thinking about it for a moment. “It sounds like a plan. But I still vote for the door leading down here to be guarded.”

Red Spear’s offer came, “My crew will handle that task.”

This time it was Gawain who looked at Lancelot for approval, something the Ash Man was yet to get used to. Lancelot gave a nod.

Arthur pointed at something on the map, asking Red Spear, “Has your crew seen this area on the map, would that be a village?”

“A small one.” she answered.

Arthur hummed. “If we are fortunate, there will be merchants willing to sell their wares to us. We could establish a symbiotic relationship with the village. We help them, they help us. And we are in great need of linen and other basic necessities if we at least wish to offer the Fey a proper chance to sleep here. Matters that those merchants can provide us with.”

Gawain was a bit apprehensive about a small allyship with the village. “We have linen. They just have to be washed clean of the dust.”

Lancelot sided with Arthur, for once. “Arthur is right, Gawain, we will not have enough. A basic level of comfort is needed if we hope to keep our people alive here. The weather is growing colder, we cannot risk an illness to be born from our negligence to provide the Fey with warm beds and clothes.”

Pym stammered a little before she got her voice loud enough for all to hear. “And we need more materials to treat the sick and wounded.”

“Indeed.” Lancelot was in agreement. “And speaking of wounded… Pym, could you be so kind as to see if my wife has not broken any bones from her fall?”

“Sure. I can try.” She saw half of the room send her a questioning look. “I mean… of course I can.”

Gawain looked at you, wondering if you were brave enough to find out whether Pym was right or not. And you were going to find out rather quickly, because she took hold of your hand and walked you out of there to begin her healer duties.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  While the others had gone to work on preparing the castle for the arrival of the Fey, you were send to Pym to check on your health. She was rough by accident and kept apologizing for it.

“Sorry.” She said when taking hold on your sore arm too firm.

“It’s fine.” You winced as it happened to your other arm too.

Pym saw it. “Sorry.”

You found it rather comical to see her try her best to act like a healer.

“I wonder what we’ll eat for supper. I’m starving for something warm.” She daydreamed about it out loud, “Roasted potatoes with a tomato filled with cheese…”

“Or soup?” You suggested a more likely meal.

She grimaced at the mere idea of it. “If I eat soup, or broth, one more time it’s going to start dripping out of my ears.”

That put a vivid image of it in your head, making you grimace too. She apologized again.

Pym went to stand in front of you. “Alright. Follow my finger.”

Your eyes followed how she moved her finger from left to right, up and down, as she tested your ability to focus on it.

“Not feeling sick?” she asked.

“No. Just a little tired. And the start of a headache I think.” you admitted.

“Dizzy?”

“No.”

Pym was relieved that you seemed well and that she wouldn’t have to figure out a way to heal you. “Good.” Muttering under her breath, “Thank the gods…”

You had stood up from the chair you had been sitting on and felt your vision blacken just for a moment. Quickly you sat down again, feeling suddenly nauseous.

“Are you alright?” Pym had seen you act strange from the corner of her eyes.

“Yes.” You assumed it happened from getting up too fast. “Just felt strange for a moment.”

Again you stood, and took a few steps. A cold shiver ran from your back up to your neck, and once it reached your head your vision darkened very quickly, like shadows closing in it trapped your consciousness. Pym squeaked in shock as she saw you fall to the floor like a limp sack of potatoes.

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[kermit-coded]

Even More Non-AO3 Ricstar Fics

i stumbled across some more wonderful ricstar fics from livejournal!! again, some of these are gen/pre-slash or character studies, but for the most part it's all ricstar. enjoy!

again, the starred fics are my personal favorites.

(fair warning some of these are... dated, but a lot of them are very good.)

One Shots

Intoxicating

hello hair kink.

Twist*

shatterstar pov introspection. a very good look at the inside of star's head. fluffy and sweet.

Starlight

first kiss fic! super cute.

Genuine*

star learns how to smile. god i love this one! fluff.

Dark Tonight**

double starred because of how good it is! genuinely might be my favorite fic on this list. oh boy do i love it when people parallel their trauma, and this fic does it some of the best i've ever seen.

You Glow, and You're Beautiful*

shatterstar through rictor's eyes. lovely lovely little fic.

Standby

the reverse of the above. strong shatterstar voice.

What's In a Name?*

the boys' first meeting. excellent ric pov.

Silly Earth Traditions

they try to go on a date. operative word being try.

Pure Morning

lazy morning sex.

A Little Sacrifice

introspective smut and not talking about your issues, aka the rictor special.

Not Traditional, But It Fits

hugging. it's all about the hugging.

Pointless Activities*

dares and teenagers being teenagers. what more could you want?

Love The Way You Look*

ric likes making star smile.

It's Hard To Be Sorry About The Best Thing That Ever Happened To You*

a bittersweet look at ric and tabby's x-force era friendship.

I'm Just Asking**

another ultra fave! idk much about anole, but i'm always a fan of ric being a "elder gay" (in his own way) and this fic delivers.

Coming Together

au but feels canon. funeral fic.

Even Superman Had His Kryptonite*

okay, so i'm not usually into star with anyone other than ric, but this fic does star/terry well. they aren't actually into each other, they're just missing ric and jimmy, and it comes across really well.

Phobia

super silly but fun.

Multi-Chapter

He Mattered More Than You Think (1, 2, 3, Epilogue)*

ooooh boy. major character death and an interesting look into what a shatterstar who lost rictor violently might look like. great ensemble moments from other x-force members!

Insecurities Fester Like Cancer (1, 2, 3, 4)*

depowered rictor in all his avoidant, suicidal glory and shatterstar in all his blunt, stubborn head-over-healsness. m-day au.

Our Last Memory (23 Chapters)

OLM Prequel (4 Chapters)

amnesia fic! x-factor era au where star loses his memories.

Scars Are Souvenirs You Never Lose (3 Chapters)

breakup era. these bitches pining.

Estranged (4 Chapters)

more breakup era.

Scarred For Life (1, 2, 3, 4)

some shatterstar introspection

Hostile Takeover (18 Chapters)

very, very au x force long fic!

Therapy Sessions

these appear to be part of a larger au thing but i couldn't find the rest of it so im linking as is.

Session One (1, 2, 3, 4)

Session Two (1, 2, 3, 4)

Session Three (1, 2)

X-Tricks Archive

had to use the way back machine to access this, but it was worth it!!

(i got most of these from this old livejournal list, however most of them were locked. if any of you find unlocked versions of any of the fics, please lemme know!! and on the miniscule chance that the og author is on tumblr and sees this, hey i love your stuff and would love to read the locked stuff if you feel like sending them to me??)

there's more livejournal pages i'm gonna look through but i'll save anything i find for a third rec list!

list one

[noblehouseofgay]

Dancing Through Life

Part 4 to Noble's Wicked Series

Wolfstar and Jegulus microfic

Takes place before Popular

Mentioned Pandalily

Fluff!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"I see that once again the responsibility of corrupting my fellow students falls to me." Sirius smirked, standing up from his seat in the common room. "The trouble with schools is they always try to teach the wrong lesson. Believe me, I've been in enough detentions to know." He laughs, winking to the Marauders.

"They want you to become less callow, less...shallow? But I say," he hops onto the table, "why invite stress in?"

Remus, sitting on the table below him, simply rolls his eyes with a badly hidden smile.

"Stop studying strife," Sirius bends down to snap Remus' book closed, "and learn to live the unexamined life."

He stands up, slowly pulling Remus from his seat. "Dancing through life, skimming the surface. Gliding where turf is smooth."

"Life is painless," he ruffles Moony's hair, "for the brainless! Why think to hard, when it's so soothing-"

He jumps onto a library cart, letting it carry him across the room. "Dancing through life, no need to tough it when you can slough it off as I do!"

"Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters- it's just life. So keep dancing through!"

The students around the library began to join him, shutting their books and getting up to follow Sirius' lead.

"Dancing through life, swaying and sweeping. And always keeping cool," he winked, tugging lightly on his leather jacket. Regulus across the room rolled his eyes but it didn't go unnoticed. Sirius immediately ran over to him.

"Life is fraughtless," he laid his head on top of Regulus' as the smaller of the brothers batted at him, "when you're thoughtless."

Sirius hopped to sit on the table in front of his brother. "Those who don't try never look foolish." Regulus scoffed and stuck his face back into his book.

Sirius jumped up, right on top of Regulus' book. "Dancing through life! Mindless and careless!" He kicked the book onto the floor, walking down the table towards where Lily Evans sat.

"Let's go down to the Come and Go Room, we'll meet there later tonight. We can dance til it's light. Find the prettiest girl," he bowed and held his hand out to Lily, she rolled her eyes and laughed, taking his hand, "give her a whirl!" She laughed as Sirius spun her, ending the twirl but pushing her right towards Pandora. The red head blushed immediately as she bumped into the blonde.

Sirius smiled smugly, proud of himself for that one. "Right on down to the Come and Go Room! Come on follow me! You'll be happy to be there!"

The students chanted and danced around him, excited for the party Sirius was clearly throwing later. He couldn't help but smile, knowing he was giving so many kids the opportunity to have fun again.

Someone nudged Sirius lightly. He turned to find James smiling knowingly. "Will you be inviting someone yourself then, Pads?"

Sirius glanced towards the boy in a brown jumper, his confidence faltering for a moment. "Maybe, but I'm more curious about who you'll dance with, Prongs."

James laughed nervously. "I think I'll just go and enjoy the party with everyone instead actually."

Sirius hummed, walking behind James to lay his head on his shoulder. He sighed dramatically. "You know what would be even better than that? See that tragically depressed twink I call my brother? Over there being a killjoy? I think someone needs to give him a push, show him how much fun a party can be."

Sirius felt James tense up. It was working. "If only someone would ask him to the dance." Sirius stood back up and shrugged.

"I-...I'll do it. I'm gonna ask him."

"Oh, Prongsie. You're so kind. Truly." Sirius shoved James towards Regulus, knowing they'd been pining for each other for months.

"You're good." A deep voice came from behind Sirius.

"Moony." Sirius softened slightly. "I don't know what you mean, I was simply helping them both out."

Remus chuckled, walking closer to Sirius. "You know, I'm free tonight. If you were wondering..."

Sirius lit up. "Would you go to the party with me, Moony?"

Remus moved to kiss his head, Sirius immediately leaning into it. "You're perfect..."

Sirius smiled up at him. "You're perfect," he pulled Remus into a deep kiss and spoke against Remus' lips, "we're perfect together. Born to be forever."

Meanwhile...

Regulus couldn't stop smiling. He sat with his hand covering his mouth but it was no use.

James had asked him out.

The boy Regulus had been in love with since first year.

He asked him to the party.

Gods, he could just melt from happiness.

"What's with the smiling?" Dorcas sat down next to Regulus, poking his cheek slightly.

Regulus, blushed. "I'm not smiling. I don't smile."

"You're definitely smiling."

Regulus bit his lip. He whispered, "James asked me out."

Dorcas gasped and grabbed his arm. "Regulus! That's amazing!"

Regulus nodded slightly, letting himself smile once more. "I think...Sirius actually got him to."

Dorcas frowned immediately. "Sirius? Do you think it's a prank? Do I need to threaten him-"

"No, no," he cut her off, "I think he meant well...besides, I don't think James Potter would toy with someone's feelings. Or at least I hope he wouldn't."

Cas relaxed, bumping her shoulder into Regulus. "Soooo you've got a date to the party." She cooed, scrunching her nose and smiling.

"Piss off, it's just a party. It's not a proposal."

"Not yet, Reg. But you know Potter works fast." She smirked and stood from the table.

She began to walk away when Regulus softly spoke. "Cas?" She turned to look at him. "Could you...help me with what to wear?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes! Dorms, tonight. We'll make sure Potter never forgets tonight."

[aliyme]

Grown-up Tsuna and Enma

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Cuhut it out- you guys!" "Nu-uh, not until you're all perked up first! You don't want those gym challengers meetin' with an ol' mopey leader, do ya?" "Whitney's right, dear friend. No need to hide that beautiful smile of yours, alright?~"

What it takes to cheer up Johto's beloved ghost boy 👻💕

[atlas-the-bastard]

there are two wolves inside of me.

one wolf absolutely devours the zolu dynamic of "oblivious idiot and angsty pining idiot". like, a zoro who is constantly internally beating himself up because what the fuck he's gone and fucked it all up how could he fall in love with luffy he's practically betraying him luffy needs a first mate not a lover and it's not like luffy would ever even love him back he just has to suffer this in silence. and a luffy who doesn't even realise zoros internal crisis and is becoming more and more touchy and seeking out zoro more because he just. wants zoro. because being around zoro feels more right than anything. but doesn't stop to figure out what that feeling actually means.

the other wolf just goes fucking nuts for the zolu dynamic of "are those two together or what?" "no one knows they're just like that". they don't know when they started actually being "together", they didn't even really decide, it's always been this way, since day 1 they knew they would follow each other to the ends of the earth and beyond. they don't talk about it, they don't need to talk about it, because they just know, they know each other so well and understand each other as if they're literally part of the same brain. their relationship transcends that of "boyfriends" or "dating", they're simply luffy and zoro. it's always been a mutual understanding, luffy is zoros and zoro is luffys and they belong to no one else and. and. it just feels so natural and right and instinctual and being together is as easy as breathing. even the rest of the crew don't know what exactly they are, but they never question it because it just makes sense.

[m-o-o-n-thatspellsblog]

Stephen King developing a romance between a heterosexual couple: It's a man and a woman and they've interacted twice. Obviously they're in love. That doesn't need to be explained.

Stephen King developing a friendship between 2 males:

[spacelesscowboy]

truthfully while i enjoy billford and fiddauthor i think they’re much more fun as like. lightning in a bottle moments. weird built up tension that neither side acknowledges. but It’s There.

and 30 years later ford is shooting up in bed wide eyed and sweating going. oh my god i was in love w them. while both bill and fiddleford moved on LONG before ford even realized what was happening.

[sqlmn]

Cornella: Oh, Seb? He's just like that, it's fine. Matis: ?????? That's actually very concerning for how good security is here.......... Sebastian: Actually it's quite thorough! I assure you that you're safe here. :> Matis: (not really reassuring if they gave up getting you out based on how many times that implies they tried to catch you...)

During his college years, Sebastian went to study elsewhere for a year and lived with his uncle who simply worked for a security company. He just picked up the methods how people could sneak past cameras by listening to his uncle's complaints and how the company never took his suggestions to fix the problems seriously bc he wasn't very high in the company and turned down promotions. Seb just "oh so that's a thing? ohhhh I can do that" and solves his problems in regards to seeing Cornella by putting what he learned vicariously to the test.

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

the endless curse of being utterly uninterested in romance in fandom spaces