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#the disturbing thing is never gonna be as disturbing to you as it was to them because you are expecting it
hannie-dul-set · 2 days
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
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SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
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PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
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NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
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IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together. 
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?” 
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended. 
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air. 
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
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nightsmarish · 17 hours
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hiiiii this maybe weird but could i request a wolfstar x reader and she has like a lovey stuffed animal from when she was a baby she still needs to sleep with that she was trying to hide from the boys and how they’d react to finding out?? I love your writing :)
Poly!wolfstar x reader (Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Reader) | 700+ words
A/n: a little short than I planned, but that's okay. Thank you for requesting, boo!
Tw: sleepy Remus, anxiety, first time the boys sleep at ur flat, kinda modern-ish, werewolf thing in implied a secrete r doesn't know? Kinda like a mid fic at best
★⋆。°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆。°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆。°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆。
Most couples sleep over at eachother houses. It's completely normal. But, despite that fact, the nerves are eating you alive.
It was agreed before hand that the boys would crash at your place after your date. It is extremely late since the drive-in double feature ended at 2 a.m., and your apartment is much closer than Remus and Sirius' flat. Which means you've had ample time to hype yourself up, to tell yourself they won't judge you for sleeping with that bloody stuffed animal.
But now? Sitting in the passenger seat of Sirius' car with Remus half passed out with the nearly illegal amount of blankets and pillows the three of you brought? Your very not prepared for them to see the small stuffie.
Everyone stayed rather quiet throughout the car ride. Remus was already tired before the movies, probably because the moon was a few days ago, but you have no real conformation that affects him; all just speculation you've made the past few months of dating the boys. And Sirius is coming down from a sugar high, which leaves him calmer and more tired than usual. As well, with the added fact that he doesn't want to disturb your shared boyfriend as he goes in and out of sleep.
And the quietness stayed when the car parked infront of your apartment complex. Grabbing the blankets and pillows and helping a groggy Remus to his feet, the three of you manage to make it safely into your flat.
And while the boys just happen to conveniently be a bit distracted on assessing what blankets and pillows will be used to properly sleep in your bed, you sneak away to the bedroom.
There, laid out in the middle of your bed lays the little creature you've had for probably too long. You scurky on over to it and grab it, trying to quickly find a place that is both safe and well hidden for the night.
But, alas, one does not simply walk away from Sirius Black and expect him not to follow.
"Whats that, love?" Your shorter boyfriend stands in the door way, fluffy, dark green blanket in his arm. Behind him, in the living room, Remus is fighting, a little lazily, with two blankets that got tangled together.
"Wha-?" You glance down at the plushie in your hand, "This? Nothing. Nothing, why?"
Sirius quirks a brow, and dear Salazar, he can be intimidating; it's like his gaze is boring into your soul.
"Pads, leave 'em alone." Remus joins him in the door way, successfully having one of the two blankets.
"I'm not doing nothin' just wanna see who will be joining us tonight." He walks further into the room, throwing the green blankets onto the bed. Turning to face you again, gently grabbing your hip with one hand and cuping ome of your hands that holds the plushie, "assuming he will be joining us?"
You pause for a moment before practically melting into Sirius, who chuckles as he hugs your waist properly, "yeah- he's gonna join us. If that's okay." Your voice is muffled into the black t-shirt he's wearing.
"'Course, that's okay, dovey." One of the two is behind you now, having dropped the extra blanket on the bed as well. You can feel him press a light kiss to the top of your head from behind.
You move your head from where it laid on Sirius, looking at the two extra blankets that taint your bed. "I have enought blankets, we didn't need more."
The smile never leaves the boys face, letting go of you and landing unceremoniously onto your bed, looking up to you and Remus, "nonsense, darlin, how else will be over heat in the middle of the night?"
"We won't overheat in the middle of the night." The tall one gets in the bed as well, much less dramatically and soooo ready for bed.
"You are so confident in that." Sirius twists his body to see Remus getting comfy in the extremely messy bed, then glancing at you. "'Cm'on, doll, bring your friend and come join us."
A small smile graces your lips as you join the boys, one halfway to a dead sleep and the other welcoming you into his waiting arms after you turn off the bedside lamp.
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lau219 · 3 days
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Why Deny?
Part 15
Previous part here
…………………………………………………………………………….
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​The next day at work moved along painfully slowly. Y/N had spent the majority of the day in her office, planning and reciting what she was going to say to Leonard, trying to prepare herself to be able to get through it without crying.
When she arrived at the restaurant they’d agreed to meet at for dinner that night, Leonard was waiting for her near the host stand, and as he slipped his arm around her waist and lovingly pressed a kiss to her temple as they waited to be seated, she could already feel the tears pricking behind her eyes.
​But she had to do it here. This way, Leonard couldn’t make too much of a scene. She encouraged him to go ahead, saying she needed to use the restroom and would meet him at the table. Once he was out of sight, Y/N spoke to the hostess and asked that she tell their waiter not to disturb them, and that they would let her know when they were ready to order. After lingering for another moment, Y/N headed into the dining area, spotting Leonard and walking over to the table. She was relieved to see it was in a slightly more secluded spot than some of the other tables, and as she sat down, she took a deep breath before looking at Leonard.
​“How are you feeling?” he asked her, their eyes meeting.
​“Fine,” she lied, the agony of what she was about to do crushing her heart.
​Leonard could tell. He always knew when she was lying, and he furrowed his brow as he looked back at her.
​“What’s wrong?”
​Taking another deep breath, Y/N briefly looked down at her lap, collecting herself before she met his eyes once more.
​“Leonard, I...I’ve decided I’m keeping the baby.”
​As what she said registered with him, Leonard felt a sense of pride, as well as adoration for Y/N, begin to run through him. Looking at her, the hint of a smile crossed his face, and Y/N didn’t miss it. She felt another stab to her heart.
​“Ok,” he said to her, trying not to react too much and overwhelm her. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Then we’re in this together.”
​Y/N let him hold her hand for a moment, but then she forced herself to pull away. As she looked at him again, she shook her head.
​“We can’t be,” she replied.
​Leonard frowned.
​“What?”
​“We can’t do this, you and me.”
​Leonard shook his head.
​“What are you talking about?”
​She took another deep breath.
​“Leonard, this’ll never work. You have no idea what you’re signing up for when you say you’d be ok with this. It’s easy to think that way when the baby is still just an idea, but that’s not who you are, and a kid changes everything. You’re gonna realize that once it’s too late, and then you’ll just end up hating me for this because I backed you into a corner. It’s all my fault that this happened.”
​Staring back at her, Leonard had no words.
​“I can’t...” she paused for a moment, blinking back tears. “I can’t bear the thought of you hating me, and if we stay together, inevitably, you will. And by then, it’ll just make a break-up even more painful, and then you’ll resent the baby, too. We should just end it now and agree to remain amicable. I’m giving you an out.”
​At this point, Leonard couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but when she talked about ending things, he spoke.
​“I could never hate you,” he said. “And if you think a baby is going to cause that, you’re dead wrong. Y/N, I want you and this baby. I don’t want an out.”
​She shook her head.
​“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
​“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t know,” Leonard responded, his anger rising. “Why do you always do this? Hm? Why are you always second guessing us? Assuming the worst?”
​“You’ll be angry for a while, but you’ll get over it, and then you’ll realize I did you a favor,” she said, not answering his question.
​“Do you seriously think I’m gonna let you pull this?” he said.
​“You can still know the baby, be involved here and there,” she continued, still ignoring his comments, “but I’m not going to saddle you with being a full-on father. You’ll thank me, eventually.”
​Before Leonard could say anything else, Y/N stood from her chair and buttoned her coat.
​“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he said as he looked up at her.
​“I’ll see you at work on Monday,” she said, and with that, she turned and began to walk away towards the entrance.
Still floored, it took Leonard a moment to realize she was leaving, and he then quickly rose from his chair and followed after her. She’d already made it out the door and was about to hail a cab when Leonard strode up behind her and pulled her back from the curb. As she gasped and then looked up at him, he saw the tears running down her cheeks, and he pulled her closer.
“I’m not letting you do this,” he said to her.
“It’s my choice, remember?” Y/N replied. “You said so yourself.”
“About whether or not to keep the baby,” he said.
“Right,” she responded, trying to look matter-of-fact, “and this is what goes with keeping it.”
“So, you’ve just made these decisions for the both of us? You think you’ve got it all figured out, do you?” he said bitterly.
“You told me in the beginning that if I truly felt it was best to walk away, that you’d let me,” Y/N said.
Leonard narrowed his eyes at her.
“Don’t pull that shit. You know this isn’t what I meant.”
“That’s what you said,” Y/N replied, the tears still slipping from her eyes. “And this is for the best.”
“Y/N...” Leonard began.
But instead of letting him say anything more, Y/N reached up and softly placed her hands on his cheeks, holding his face as she leaned forward and placing her lips on his in a final kiss. It took everything she had to pull away from him, and when she did, Leonard just stared at her, speechless. She then stepped away and reached for the door handle of the cab that was waiting at the curb.
“I’m sorry,” she said to him over her shoulder as their eyes met one last time.
Then she opened the door and climbed into the cab, and Leonard watched as the taillights disappeared around the corner.
@xsweetcatastrophe @nyxxie-pooh @febris-amatoria @hannibellector @natalie--rushman
@aphroditeslover11 @garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @fuseburner @beastofburdenxo
@alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @neonpurplestars89-blog
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thebirdandhersong · 6 months
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on the good news train today: I have finally finished the last chapter(!!!) of my Inklings challenge story, which marks the FIRST ever Inklings challenge story I've ever completed properly :'D coming in at 30,810 words (yikes) (it did get out of hand, I must admit), it is definitely not a short story, but it IS a piece that I think articulates a lot of what I've been thinking about lately re: love and death, and, considering everything, is probably something I needed to write. I am very happy!! It has been a wild ride, but a deeply clarifying one.
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fencecollapsed · 3 months
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"I was expecting [disturbing media] to be worse because of how people talked about it"
well that's kinda your own fault isn't it, you bought into the buzz you let the opinions of other people prime your experience
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i wish there was a space for actual adults within this fandom. i guess i will have to create it, even if it's just me and other five people and a shoelace. i wonder how this whole thing is gonna develop!
#personal#the entire internet but also this fandom specifically is infested with ppl whose reading comprehension is lower than a 6th grader's#can't a gal enjoy a middle-aged actress without being pestered by toddlers with pitchforks#and i know i'm the pettiest bitch but i am ANNOYED esp when i see how old these ppl are. if you're over 25 you have no excuse daskjfhg#like i have cut my audience in half at least! if not more with this fic#but i'm happy bc i'm producing content i wanna produce#i wonder how my new fics are gonna be received#after i finish “particular” i have another thing coming up that ppl probs won't like lol#but i think it's important i post it#and then we have murder mysteries and gothic horror and wooooo you know#it's gonna be fun! and a bit disturbing!#wonder if imma be dragged on twitter again lol#but i sincerely hope no one will care lol#honestly i never expected ppl to care THAT much but i guess they did#it also annoys me that a concerningly small amount seems to care abt the actual quality of writing#and i'm over here agonising about Stylistic Choices(TM) lol#i feel like it flies over ppl's heads and they just wanna read abt larissa weems fucking them with a shapeshifted dick#which okay i guess but also what abt Literature#you could do smth creative with a shapeshifting character just saying. and include your magic cocks or whatever tf you're into#ah i am fuming in vain i will just write my lil fics and hope i don't get a new influx of kys messages lol
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dhmis-autism · 9 months
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did another quick dhmis rewatch my thoughts are thusly:
duck and yellow friendship FOREVER I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
duck best character ever created ever invented
red guy still scares me and i had to skip the end of transport bc he made me so uncomfortable.
like somehow this rewatch made me like him LESS and he was already my least fave of the main 3
baker terry i love you goodnite
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pyrriax · 1 year
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im gonna eat dirt. writing vin and tzvi makes my heart hurt i love them </3
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a-very-fond-farewell · 2 months
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it’s time for (*checks notes*) THE SADS 👯😥👀😔💅🏻
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transgaypiratesanta · 9 months
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I tried to draw Edie looking confusedly down a gun but it looks like she’s trying to put herself out of her misery from the chaos from delacy and garnet. Oops.
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#Aaaaaanyway#Just gonna pretend the Nate thing didn’t happen for my own wellbeing#I feel like tags are a really important part of tumblr but I always get bored writing them. Oh well#I should do a really long tag for the hell of it.#Get ready for a full on novel thing 😈#[chapter 1]#The oxventurers stood shaking. The light emanating from the figure was painful to look at#but they kept their eyes on it#perhaps they were scared of it moving suddenly#but more likely there was magic involved. Somehow this glowing blue silhouette was impossible to look away from.#“You will face grave consequences for this… disturbance.” The beings voice was somehow in the tone of a calm conversation#but the volume shook their bones.#“And what makes you think we can’t handle such consequences?” Prudence responded#her eyes streaming from the light.#The things voice became louder#somehow#as it laughed. “HA! You can handle it#you say? How funny! But trust me! I’m never wrong.” As they said never#the humorous tone fell away and their face twisted to a scowl. It sent a shiver down their spines. Somehow they figured it would be smart t#a paladin with no bombs must cast.” And with that#the light fled back into the water and slowly faded#leaving the group on a cliff looking out at the sea#and the joyful damnation lit by only the silver glow of the moon.#Each immediately turned to one another. Prudence was once again the first to speak up.#“So what did that mean?”#Merilwen frowned. “Consequences… he said stuff we were ‘without’ but each were things we have much of.” She turned to dob. “No song? You si#could you try casting eldrich blast?”#Prudence looked confused but obliged. Or tired to. Nothing happened.#“WHAT. MY CTHULHU LAZERS!” Her eyes widened. “I can’t cast elrich blast guys.”#“Okay yeah it is what i was thinking.” Merilwen said and sighed.
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xbellaxcarolinax · 11 months
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Cállate
Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
Summary: Miguel thinks you talk too much.
S m u t. P in v, dirty talk, Miguel being mean? Cream pie, cum eating. Jfc.
Minors DNI. I'm warning you 😤
It's not that he hated you.
Miguel O'Hara could never hate you. You just annoyed him to no end. Pushed his buttons. Teased him.
"Miguelitoooo," you'd sing in that stupid tone, "you need to relax. You brood too much. Such a broody man, hmm?"
Miguelito.
The goddamn nickname drove him up the wall, though at this point he wasn't too sure if it was irritation, or the lust that's been grabbing hold of his cock lately. What was it about you that had his head spinning with a feral need to sink his teeth into your flesh? To shove his cock so deep inside you you'd be rendered speechless for once?
Fuck, you were annoying. While he was a man of few words, you spoke as if on a fucking time limit, spewing nonsense every chance you could get. Everytime he looked at you it was a rush of emotion, and he didn't know whether to punch something or grab you by the shoulders and shut you the fuck up himself with his lips.
He decided on the latter.
You sauntered into his private headquarters in that tight little suit of yours, already running your mouth a mile a minute about...something. It might have been important, but Miguel wasn't listening, too busy watching the way your hips swayed.
"Miguelito, are you listening? Or are you too busy brooding as usual?" You were looking down at your watch, pressing on a few buttons distractedly, "Honestly, I don't know how you became the brains of this operation."
You stood in front of him, such a little thing compared to his massive size, your eyes still on your watch. "Have you been ignoring Lyla?"
"I put her on do not disturb."
You snorted, finally bringing your eyes to his intimidating ones, "Oh, so I guess I'm disturbing you too, huh?"
"Always." With a grunt, Miguel snatched you by the waist, losing his patience completely. You gasped, surprised by his actions, but you smiled knowingly, looking up at him with doe-like eyes. Finally.
"A first date would be nice, Miguelito-"
"Shut up." He growled, baring his glistening fangs. "Cállate, por Dios."
He wasted no time, immediately surging forward to capture your lips, silencing you efficiently. It was a hungry kiss, sloppy, more tongues than anything else. He pulled moan after moan from you, stripping you both down in a matter of seconds before nipping at the delicate skin of your neck and shoulders.
Miguel had you up against the wall, his brute strength holding you up with ease. You quickly wrapped your legs around his hips, eyes rolling as he slid his large cock over your slippery folds.
"M-miguel," his name fell from your mouth beautifully as you held on to his broad shoulders for dear life, "Miguel, p-please."
"When are you gonna learn to shut up, hm?" He groaned, his arousal igniting from the obscene sounds of your slick cunt coating the underside of his length, "when are you gonna learn to keep your mouth shut for five seconds?" You were cock drunk already, mouth hanging open and tears threatening to fall from your pretty eyes.
"I-"
"Cállate, hermosa, just shut up and take this cock," Miguel muttered over your lips, lining his cock up carefully before nudging your pussy open with the fat head of his dick. You choked, tears finally bursting from your eyes, dampening both your faces as he held you close. Your cunt clamped down on his cock with every inch he pushed in, causing you to cry out.
"Shh, I got you, just let me in," he cooed in the most gentle way he'd ever been with you, "I know you can take this cock, mhm, así, just like that, open that pretty pussy up for me."
You moaned whorishly, your head falling back against the wall with a thump as Miguel began a merciless pace, immediately reaching the place where you needed him the most.
"Ohhh fuck, Miguel," you cried, your juices coating his thighs with every stroke of his cock as he pounded and pounded and pounded into you, "you're so d-deep." More juices leaked from your cunt, giving Miguel easier access into your slick channel.
"Quiet hermosa," he heaved, holding you tight against his merciless hips while clamping a large hand over your mouth, "don't want the others to know how good I'm fucking you, ehh?" The only sounds heard in the room were your muffled cries, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass as his cock slipped in and out of you.
You wanted to say something, anything really, to shove him off his high horse, but you couldn't, too far up in cloud nine to do anything but drool all over his palm and let his thick cock kiss your cervix repeatedly, bruisingly, deliciously.
"Asi, hermosa," Miguel sticks out his tongue, lapping at the salty tears streaking your cheeks, "calladita se ve más bonita, hm?" He knew you were close, he felt it in the way your pussy tightened on his cock. He kept ramming his hips into you, grunting with every stroke.
"So fucking tight," he groaned, dropping his head on your shoulder, "I imagined this so many times, stuffing you with my cock, but fuck, who knew it'd be like this?"
"M-miguel, please," you whined, ripping his hand away from your mouth, "p-please."
He pierced his fangs into your neck, and that was when the dam broke. You gushed all over his cock, eyes rolling and mouth open as you silently came. Your pussy spasmed, fluttering over Miguel's cock as he lapped up the blood beading from the tiny wound he inflicted.
"That's it," he cooed, holding you tightly in his arms as you shuddered, "that's my girl." His strokes were sloppy now, too lost in your delicious wet heat to be as precise. After a few more thrusts, he buried his head in your neck again, releasing a growl from the very pits of his stomach, deep and aggressive, as he pumped his seed inside you.
Miguel held you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath. You were like a ragdoll over him, and he chuckled, nuzzling you with his nose. He released you, letting his cock slip out. His cum ran down your leg, white and hot as he gently set you on the ground. He hummed, taking two of his large fingers and scooping up some of the mess he made between your legs before smearing it over your lips.
"Open." He commanded, and you obediently did as told, opening your mouth and curling your tongue around his digits, savoring the taste of your combined juices with lidded eyes. You moaned at the tangy taste, your hands flying to skim down the length of his chiseled abdomen.
Miguel watched you, caging you in with one arm against the wall, mesmerized at how your mouth worked over his fingers.
You looked absolutely fucked out, skin flushed, hair a mess, but most of all, quiet.
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marimogf-archived · 7 months
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gimme some sugar, i am your neighbor!
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synopsis: asking your neighbor for a baking ingredient leads to you getting a different kind of sugar.
genre / au: smut, tiny bit of fluff, neighbor!toji inspired by this tiktok (op's story has a different storyline, this fic is inspired by part 1 only!!)
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!toji, protected sex, slight dumbification and dacryphilia, use of petnames (doll, sweetheart, baby etc.), mentions of food; wc: ~4.2k
happy reading, i hope you enjoy! and as always, reblogs and feedback are appreciated!! <3
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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everyone who knew and loved you was aware of the fact that you loved baking. every birthday, anniversary, company party would only be completed by one of your baked goods.even your neighbors could tell. at least once a week, the hallway on your floor was filled with the sweet smell of pastry and baked goods. this weekend wouldn’t be any different. 
as the clock ticked in your kitchen, you went through everything needed for the cake in your head. scanning the ingredients you got the evening before, your eyes widened when you realized that you forgot to buy sugar. 
shit.
it was sunday, everything's closed and the cake for your best friend’s birthday had to be done by today. 
thus, you had no choice but to ask your neighbors for help, hoping they had some sugar you could ‘borrow’.
you had moved here months ago, but hadn’t introduced yourself properly since you were so swamped with work. this was gonna be awkward. 
like a sad dog, you took your keys and trotted over to the neighbor’s apartments, starting at the one farthest from you in hopes of someone being home. but no one opened their door and so you were forced to walk down the hallway, ringing every bell to no avail until you reached the apartment right next to yours. you rang the doorbell with ‘fushiguro’ written in sharpie over the button, your hopes already deflated. 
“coming.”
the deep voice on the other side of the door surprised you, it sounded younger than you had thought. you lived in a somewhat quiet neighborhood, most of the neighbors looking like they either had families or were close to retirement. 
another thing you didn’t expect when the door opened was to have a fucking greek god in front of you. 
he leaned against the doorway, beefy arms shown off in a tank top that looked entirely too small to be his size, accentuating his tiny waist. his legs were exposed in tiny grey sweatshorts that left little to the imagination as you tried not to stare at the dickprint that had your mouth run dry. 
“what is it, doll?” he smirked, watching you lightly jump at getting caught ogling his physique. 
“uhm, hi, sorry to disturb your afternoon. i’m the neighbor next door and i seem to have forgotten to buy sugar for a cake that needs to be done today. i just wanted to ask if you’d have some to spare, mr. uhh…” you looked at the bell sign again, ”fushiguro?” 
you almost didn't dare to look him in the face. he had an aura about him that made you feel like a giddy teenager in the presence of your crush. 
“toji is fine, doll. but yeah, i have some,” he mumbled, a smirk ever present on his lips. as he turned in the doorway, he motioned for you to follow. “come on in.”
you hesitantly followed him through the doorway, taking off your slippers and entering his living room. looking around, his apartment seemed nice and smelled like his cologne. but it looked too clean, almost sterile, as if no one really lived here. 
‘seems like he isn't home often’, you thought to yourself. 
he rummaged in the kitchen and returned to you with a half full bag of sugar. “you can take it all, i don’t use it much and it’d be a shame to waste it.” his smirk never seemed to cease. as you took the bag, you actually faced him properly. admiring his sculpted face, the little scar adorning his lips and the green eyes staring you down. his black hair was falling into his face, making his eyes seem impossibly darker. you thanked him quietly, turning to leave when he spoke again. “don't you wanna stay a bit? i'd like to get to know you a little more, doll.” 
you faced him with heat rising to your cheeks. “maybe another time, i’m somewhat in a rush.”
“at least tell me your name, sweets,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and tingles from the top of your head. 
“it’s y/n.”
“alright y/n, save me a piece, will ya? i’d like to have a taste of your cake.” he winked. you nodded nervously, thanking him. you turned to leave and hurried out of his apartment to your door. 
barely able to slide the keys into the lock with your shaky hands, you almost slammed the door behind you, heavy breaths rocking your chest. you grinned to yourself. 
you had lived in this apartment for months, barely alive between work days and using your off days to recharge even just a little bit, mainly with a vibrator between your legs and a stranger’s voice in your ears as you listened to audio porn. you'd sometimes hear tojii's deep gruff voice, along with louder giggles from a different girl each time, as they passed your door to go to his apartment. the moans that followed shortly after the door would slam shut were loud enough for you to groan and lose sleep over during work nights.  
you’d hear the girls whine and cry out for him to go harder, faster, deeper. and you'd be left wondering what the appeal about him was but now that you knew what he looked like, he might just become your new fantasy. 
enough distraction, you had a cake to bake. 
now that you had all the ingredients, you mixed together a beautifully sweet batter but in your haste, you measured a little too much for your smaller baking pan.  
‘oh well, i’ll just make some muffins out of them,’ you thought to yourself. maybe you should take some to your neighbor to thank him for his kindness later. 
buttering your pan, your batter slipped right in with enough space for it to become nice and fluffy when baking. you rummaged through your drawers, searching for your muffin pan. when you found it, you lined the pan and put the rest of your batter into the little paper frills. 
once every drop of batter was distributed evenly, you pushed everything into your oven and set the timer. you cleaned up and did the dirty dishes in the time the baked goods were filling your apartment with their sweet smell. 
the timer rang and you took out the cakes and muffins, letting them cool down while you slowly prepared the icing. after a while, your baked goods had finally cooled down enough to put the icing on without it melting.  adding a few decorations and chocolate chips on top, you put your hands on your hips triumphantly with a proud grin. your best friend would love it. you were sure of it. 
looking out the window, you saw the sun beginning to set and hurriedly put a few muffins onto a plate to bring toji. looking down at yourself, you realized that you were covered in bits of batter and icing and decided to look a bit more presentable in the face of your hot dilf neighbor. 
maybe you could get lucky? you genuinely hoped so. 
you took a very quick shower, just to get the sweat off and have your body smelling nice. you slipped on your underwear as well as some shorts and a tight shirt that accentuated your chest. you hurried to get out of the door, nearly forgetting your apartment keys in your haste. 
you rang toji’s doorbell for the second time that day and yet, you still got surprised at the sculpted man standing in front of you. 
“already back for more, sweetheart?” he grinned as his eyes traveled down your body and settled on the plate in your hand. 
“i couldn't save a slice since the cake’s for my best friend but i had some batter left over and made muffins?” you offered the plate to him, a slight tremor in your voice from being in his dominating presence again. 
he chuckled and opened the door wider. “that's nice of you, come in. i’ll make some tea and we can taste them.” 
you put the plate down on the kitchen counter and again, let your eyes drift across the apartment as toji started to prepare the kettle. 
“so what do you do?” you asked, cautious and nervous, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. you heard a deep grumble from the man as he snickered. 
“unfortunately, i can't tell you that, princess.” your cheeks heated up at the pet name. 
“is it dangerous work?” 
“mhm, wouldn't want you to get caught up in it. my friend gave me his apartment for the time until i finish my assignment and then i’m gone. but if your muffins are good, i might consider coming ‘round more often.” 
the kettle whistles and he pours the hot water over the tea to let it steep. he grabs the mugs and turns around to face you. toji set them down on the coffee table in the living room and motions for you to bring the muffins over and sit. 
his massive hands made your muffins look like legos as he took one and bit into the soft baked dough. 
“mmmh so good,” he murmured as he closed his eyes in delight. “they’re delicious, y/n. you should make it a business.” 
you smiled, thanking him. you took one as well, taking a big bite. you didn't notice the icing on your cheek nor the crumbles that accumulated on your chest. 
you sure as hell didn't notice how intently toji was watching you as you took more bites. or how he inched closer to you. 
“you got a little something there, doll,” he uttered and you gasped as his lips touched the skin right next to your mouth, sucking the sweet icing off your skin. 
“t-toji…” your voice shrank into a whisper as his lips traveled to your jaw and down your neck, delivering a gentle bite. just enough to lightly bruise the skin. 
soft whimpers left your mouth as he stopped to lick the skin on your décolletage, collecting the soft crumbs on his tongue. 
you set the unfinished muffin down and let your hand tangle in his hair, gently tugging on it. he lifted his head, creeping dangerously close to yours - that same smug grin on his lips.  
“the muffins are good, but i can think of another way you can thank me.”
your face heated up and your eyes flickered between his and his plush lips. 
“i’m gonna kiss ya now. is that okay, love?” he gently inquired, calloused thumb brushing over your cheek. 
you nodded and pulled the straps of his tank top, getting him closer to you as your lips met his in a hot kiss. you could feel his lips stretch into a sly grin as his hands found your waist, using his strength to pull you on top of him. his big hands were on your hips now, following your movements as you started grinding on him. the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip and you parted your lips willingly. toji sucked on your tongue lightly while his hands were massaging your breasts through your clothes. you moaned, your hips moving more desperately against his now apparent bulge. you could feel how big he was and you wondered how the fuck he was gonna fit. 
your worries melted away when he pulled back from the kiss, his mouth now attached to your jaw, kisses trailing down your neck. you could feel his teeth on your collarbone, threatening to leave a mark and you whined. “not there please…” 
you felt him smile against your skin and he left a soft kiss. “don't want anyone to see? in that case, i’ll mark you where only i can see, yeah?”
your hands tugged on his tank top and you leaned back a little to let toji pull it over his head, discarded somewhere out of your vision. he was an absolute delight to look at, abs chiseled, pecs round and a delicious v-line and a happy trail of small black hairs leading to the pot of gold. your hands slid over his warm skin and you lightly traced your nails over his erect nipples, eliciting a groan out of him. this time, your lips were on his neck and you sunk your teeth into his collarbone, the exact spot where he had wanted to mark you. he moaned, his deep voice sending electricity straight to your cunt and you clenched around nothing. you could feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but as much as you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted to feel him in your mouth first. so you slid down his lap as you marked him up some more. 
“yeah doll, mark me as yours. gonna show it off,” he smirked proudly as you settled on your knees between his thick thighs and looked up at him through your lashes. god, that sight was enough to almost make him cum in his pants like a teenager. you realized he wasn't wearing any underwear when you saw his wet tip through the leg of his pants. toji lifted his hips a little to let you pull down his tiny shorts and his fat cock twitched as your soft hand made contact with his skin. you let out a soft gasp at his sheer size and pressed a soft kiss to his base. his hand immediately settled into your hair, the other arm thrown over the back of the couch. 
you felt so intimidated by his size but you still took his leaking red tip into your warm mouth, tongue lapping up the salty pre-cum. his head was thrown back and the grip on your hair tightened. toji had to really control himself to not immediately cum in your mouth. 
you slowly started to take more of him, your hand stroking whatever you couldn't reach while the other caressed his thigh. the low grunts from the man above you sent shivers down your spine and you felt proud, knowing that you were the reason he was in this state. you continued your movements, looking up at toji with his eyes screwed shut, face and neck flushed. his hips moved to gently thrust into your warm, wet mouth and the sounds he made were just music to your ears. you moaned around his thick length, trailing your nails across his thighs, which made his thrusts a bit harder, leaving you to gag and slobber all over him.
after a few more thrusts, he pulled you off his dick by your hair, panting whilst sweat coated his skin. a thin trail of spit connected your lips to his cock, the tip now an even deeper red. 
“fuck doll, that mouth of yours is too good, almost made me cum too fast,” he groaned as you stood up, pulling off your shirt and unhooking your bra. his fingers pulled the waistband of your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. he smirked at the sight of the wet spot on the fabric. toji got up and pushed you onto the couch before his lips were on your chest, fingers toying with your sensitive nipples. your back arched towards him as he gently pulled on your buds and you let out a whine. “toji please, wanna feel you inside.” 
“not yet baby, need to prep you right,” he mumbled against your skin, tongue poking out to swirl around your nipple. “wouldn’t wanna split you in half.” 
he continued licking and sucking until your hands were gripping his hair, pulling him away, before switching to the other breast. but not before marking up your pretty boobs with his lips and teeth, making you whine again. as his lips engulfed the sensitive bud, you desperately tried to grind against him, trying to get some kind of friction against your leaking pussy. he gently slapped the boob that was not in his mouth, muttering “be patient doll” and you could feel him grin against your skin. when he deemed it enough, toji let go of your chest, making his way down your tummy, leaving a trail of marks on his way.
you pushed the hair out of his face, his forehead slick with sweat as he tried his best to not cum as your pussy came into view. you were already so wet, you parted your legs so willingly and he hasn't even started. toji gripped your thighs as he kneeled between them, his lips against your hot skin making you moan wantonly. you couldn't even form words, you just wanted to feel him. 
“what is it, doll?” he teased, as a particularly hard bite into your flesh made your back arch and he swore he saw your cunt leak even more. 
sitting up on your elbows, you looked into his green eyes staring into your soul while his lips were anywhere but where you needed them. “make me feel good, please, toji, i need you,” you panted. 
he was just waiting for your command. his lips were on your pussy in an instant, tongue lapping up your sweet juices. 
my god, he could just get drunk off your smell, your sounds, your taste. you fell back and your hands were in his hair, hips moving against his mouth. as his tongue was circling your clenching hole, he moved his head from side to side, his nose rubbing against your clit just right. you could feel the orgasm coming, you could taste it. “i’m gonna- cumming, i’m cumming toji, ah- fuuuuckkk!”
you were pretty sure the other neighbors could hear you but you didn't care, his mouth just felt too good. 
“cum for me doll, make it messy.” his words pushed you over the edge, his nails leaving moon-shaped indents in your soft skin. you saw white behind your eyelids as your back arched. toji lapped up your slick as he let you ride out your high on his mouth until you pushed him away, overstimulation clouding your mind. 
“nuh-uh y/n, i’m not done with you just yet,” you heard him chuckle before you felt a finger slide into your tight cunt with ease. your hips moved on their own accord as you basically fucked yourself on his finger. “fuck, that's so good,” you huffed, still processing the previous orgasm. 
“yeah? my big fingers feel good in your slutty pussy?” he murmured, so desperate to fuck you silly but knowing that if he didn't prep you, you'd split in half on him. he slid another finger in and after a few thrusts in and out, even a third. you squirmed and gripped his hair, sweat running down your skin as you felt your second orgasm wash over you. toji could feel you clamping down on his thick fingers and he curled them to press against the spongy spot that made your back arch. a soundless gasp escaped your lips. he grinned and his other hand slid onto your lower tummy, thumb circling your clit as he watched your face contorting in pleasure. 
“come on, sweetheart. make a mess, cum on my fingers,” was all he needed to say for you to come undone. you gushed around his fingers and he watched as your cunt twitched uncontrollably around the digits. 
“fuuuck baby, you're so good for me,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of your hole with a lewd squelch that made your stomach twist in pleasure. he rose again, pushing his slicked up fingers between your lips and you sucked on them greedily, not breaking eye contact with him. he felt his dick twitch and he pulled his fingers out of your mouth. “you drive me crazy, doll.” 
you giggled as toji pushed his hair back with a sigh. he grumbled under his breath as he looked through the pile of clothes on the floor, searching the pockets of his pants for something. he found what he was looking for, carefully ripped the condom package open and slid the latex on his painfully hard cock with a hiss. he then sat on the soft couch, patting his thigh as he invited you to straddle him. 
“oh so you were prepared for this,” you laughed and he grinned back at you. “i was betting on it baby, could see the way you were undressing me with your eyes earlier.” you felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, feeling embarrassed at being caught. 
you, though, were a sight to behold right now. sweat made your skin glisten, your chest heaving as you were coping with having two mind blowing orgasms pulled out of you in a matter of minutes and your face was just so fucked out, he wasn't sure if you were even in the same realm as him. your thighs were on his hips and he helped you lift yours as you aligned his dick with your hole. you moved your hips against his length, lubing up the shaft with your juices before slowly and carefully sliding onto his cock. 
toji bit your shoulder gently as he tried not to bust immediately at the tightness that engulfed him. he groaned into your ear and your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails leaving marks on his skin as you felt yourself splitting in two as you slowly sunk down his length. you felt so full and you hadn't even taken him all the way yet. his grip on your waist tightened, you were sure he'd leave little bruises at how hard he was gripping you. 
“fuuuckkk baby, how are you still so tight?” he rhetorically asked while you babbled at how full you felt, how big he was and how good he was feeling inside you. he bottomed out with a small thrust and you let your head fall into the crook of his neck while he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and caressing your skin. you slowly moved your hips, grinding against him as soft sighs and wanton moans of his name left your lips.
he got drunk off the way you were wrapping around him and the way you were completely dumb off his cock. his lips found your neck again, spurring you on to move your hips a little faster, a little more. 
“come on baby, you're doing so well f’me,” he whispered right into your ear and you cried out his name, wanting to make him proud. your cunt was dragging along his cock so deliciously and soft moans left him as your velvet walls engulfed him over and over. soon enough, your muscles were growing tired, your movements getting sloppy and he adjusted his seat, with his dick still inside you and grabbed your ass to harshly thrust up. his tip was hitting your cervix in a delightfully painful way and you felt yourself getting closer to yet another orgasm.
toji felt you clamp around his length, muttering “fuck, you're trying to snap my dick off baby. you're gonna cum again? gonna make a fuckin’ mess on my cock, hm?” he teased you, one hand sliding down for his thumb to sloppily rub against your swollen clit. your whole body shook, mindless moans and babbles leaving your lips.
“fuckfuckfuck, m’cumming,” you almost screamed at this point, his proud smile only egging you on as white ecstasy washed over you and he slowed his thrusts down to ride out your high. tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, some even escaping and he caressed your cheek with his thumb. 
“oh baby, you cryin’ because i’m fucking you so good? your pussy is made for me, doll. you're doing so well f’me,” he cooed, sounding almost condescending. you nodded, completely fucked out and pretty much unable to speak. you cried out when he started thrusting faster, lewd slaps of his balls against your ass - pap pap pap - with every move. he was so close too, his hands gripping your shoulders as he used you like a fleshlight, listening to your raspy whines, your nails clawing at his shoulders.
you were gonna cum again, whether you wanted or not, he would make sure of that. and soon enough, as you felt his thrusts getting sloppier, your pussy clenched around him again, cumming harder than before as he fucked up into you just a few more times before burying himself to the hilt and cumming into the rubber.
he lazily thrust a few more times to ride out his orgasm and he slowly lifted your hips to slide out of you with a lewd squelch and you whined at the empty feeling. he traced little figure eights on your back as you came back to earth after being fucked into oblivion. you slumped against him and he stroked your back, chuckling when you started giggling, euphoria taking over. 
“thanks for the sugar,” you laughed tiredly, tracing your fingers over his pecs. 
“anytime, sweetheart. i’ll always have some on standby for ya, just say the word.”
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a/n: FIRST FIC IN ALMOST 3 YEARS LET'S GO!! this is quite self indulgent because i love to bake LMAO. big big BIGGEST thank you to @jabamin for proofreading and helping me with this <3. gonna tag @kazushawty as well since i feel like she might enjoy this and also because i used her tutorial for headers and it worked perfectly!! i'm so happy with how it looks! :3 tagging @etherealxmaya as well 🫶🏼💗THANK YOU FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! <3
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
4K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 1 year
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Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
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daytaker · 4 months
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The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them
Lucifer
*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*
If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.
But only if he doesn't need it.
Mammon
"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."
Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.
You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.
Leviathan
"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)
He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!
Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?
After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*
AAAAHHHHHHHHH.
Satan
"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"
Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.
Asmodeus
"Aww, aren't you adorable?"
This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.
Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.
Beelzebub
"Oh."
He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.
But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.
Belphegor
"...zzzz..."
Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...
Diavolo
"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."
It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.
He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.
Barbatos
"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."
He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.
Sleep well, human.
Solomon
"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"
Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.
Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.
Simeon
"Oh- shh. There, there."
Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.
Luke
"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"
How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.
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harmoonix · 2 months
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💤 Dreamy Astrology Observations 💤
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💤 Neptune aspecting Venus can daydream about their crushes/lovers & and having scenarios in their head about them
💤 Neptune aspecting the Midheaven can inspire and influence other people, for example being some sort of influencer
💤 Neptune in the 5H/7H can fantasize about a happy life, maybe with children/spouse and overall happiness if you know in tarot terms this energy can symbolize 10 of cups
💤 Neptune aspecting Uranus, people find you different and unique, some sort of like "I never met a personlike you before but I like it"
💤 Venus in Aquarius or at 11°. 23° degrees can have a large group of friends, they can be seen as an example for others when it comes to friendship
💤 Heavy Moon aspects in your chart can make you a very dreamy/soft/kind person, you can radiate positive vibes
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💤 Sun in the 8th/12th houses give the "mystic" one vibes, your subconscious is very powerful and you can often find yourself being spiritual
💤 Sun in Pisces Degrees 12°. 24° can have such mesmerizing tired eyes you'll ever see, their eyes radiate ocean waves
💤 Neptune aspecting the Ascendant especially conjunction can make the native to lose the connection with reality sometimes. They can often find themselves dreaming about sort of situations
💤 Chiron aspecting Neptune natives can be surrounded by people who don't believe in their dreams or desires, who think their dreams will never be fulfilled, is a very powerful placement for those who believe in themselves
💤 Fire Venus or Moon can make you to be attracted into passionate music/art/songs, often listening to dirty songs
💤 Capricorn/Virgo and Taurus Suns can be the most practical people in the room, they always have a solution and a back up plan for everything
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💤 A REMINDER that the moon phase of your moon sign can influence it A LOT, for example a Leo Moon born under the 1st quarter will be very different from a Leo Moon born under the 3rd or last quarter (if that makes sense)
💤 Virgo Sun/Moon/Rising can be the biggest nutritionist ever. They'll have a naturist remedy for everything
💤 Sagittarius Venus Moon or those planets in the 9H, those placements are giving Tarzan!! someone very curious, wild, fierce, and charming!! They get along with lots of people
💤 Sun/Moon or Mars in the 6H need to do something productive or they can fall under a depression state and feel bad, you need activities!!
💤 Mars/Pluto/Saturn or Lilith in the 4H, if you have a disturbing family life, it will get better when you'll move out and have your own house
💤 Libra Taurus and Capricorn IC/4H can find themselves decorating their stuff with lots of vintage stuff
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💤 If you have Venus in Capricorn or in the 10H and all your relationships failed, is an indicator that you need higher standards
💤 Venus in Sagittarius or 9H native is searching for someone they can evolve amd grow up together with, they are like a global mix of fun, culture, love and music
💤 Sagittarius Risings have their 4H in Pisces, they can decorate their house/home with a deep spiritual things like dreamcatchers, crystals, etc
💤 Never make fun of someone's culture or background especially if they have Sag in their big 3 or big 6 because you gonna recieve the same energy back to you
💤 Mercury or Venus in Pisces, omg I wish I had these placements instead of Scorpio...Lets trade...These placements are mesmerizing to have, especially at communicating and sharing their love
💤 Saturn/Venus and sometimes Moon in the 12th house can indicate that you're going to marry a bit later than others
💤 Saturn in the 10H!! This placement is extremely powerful. If someone does you dirty the karma comes back and exposes the person who did you wrong to the PUBLIC/people and you can find people standing up for you after someone did you dirty
💤 Lilith in Water Signs can have issues or troubles with acknowledging their feelings, because the water element rules over the feelings and Lilith indicates a wound there
💤 Capricorn Risings even if they are mature and solide, they most times wish for a sentimental and kind partner due to their 7H in Cancer
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💤 Mercury in the 11H natives don't like to talk for nothing, if you bring a conversation with them make sure to finish it
💤 Venus in Leo Degrees 5°, 17°, 29° may take love to another level, you have to focus all of your attention on them if you want to attract them
💤 Ascendant in Gemini Degrees 3°, 15°, 27° degrees natives have an extremely catchy voice, is that voice that you'll remember ages and ages and especially their jokes as well
💤 If you have your IC in the 5th house you were probably raised in household with a lot of music/fun/creativity, i have this placement and my family is crazy when it comes to music style
💤If you have an Air Moon could probably be a little more logical than sentimental, like logic over feelings
💤 Sagittarius/Libra combo placements in a chart can make someone very artistic, passionate, carefree. They can aslo have a beautiful writing style
💤 Gemini/Aquarius Mercury/Moon/Venus can be that one person who has an digital diary instead of the standard book diary. They prefer the technology
💤 Mars in Pisces Degrees 12°. 24° may like to combine love/sex with art, for example painting pictures of naked statues, intense love paintings
💤 Scorpio Sun/Moon/Rising has an intense charisma, they are like a magnet, attracting all kids of people
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💤 Aries Sun/Mars/Venus will be that one person who is like "what they did to you👺 let me teach them a lesson"
💤 Cancer Juno/Juno in the 4H natives are attracted to people who remind those natives about their home/who feel safe around them
💤 Taurus Juno or Juno in the 2H. If you cook or make a good dinner for them you can wake up the next day with a proposing ring 💍, these natives may love to cook for their spouses
💤 Water and Earth Signs in your 2H can be very picky with the food!!
💤 North Node in the 4H is not always about focusing on your home life and about creating your home life, you know to be like Kris Jenner a big fondator
💤 An empty 5H can indicate not wanting kids. I have this as well and I don't want kids at all!!
💤 Chiron in Leo natives should never feel embarrassed about themselves, this placement is about accepting your dark side and being yourself
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💤 Saturn/Pluto in the 12H may have a harder time with sleeping the same for Scorpio or Capricorn in the 12H
💤 When Virgo or Gemini placements are under stress they can often talk a lot as a mechanism to keep themselves chill/calm
💤 You may share the same type of humor with people who have their Mercury in the same sign as yours
💤 Moon in 6th house natives. The Moon will give you servitude attitude and will help others without having any selfish motive, they are truly kind
💤 Chiron in the 5H natives may act childish when they feel comfortable or safe because that's what their inner child feels as well
💤 Juno in Leo natives will love a spouse who has a funny/creative way of seeing life, don't make these natives feel depressed because you'll regret it
💤 Cancer Scorpio or Pisces in the 6H natives share a similar nurturing style and they can often nurture others with their energy
💤 Capricorn Placements are often labelled as being "workaholics" because of their strong ambition to never give up ans to finish their thing
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💤🌊 Since Pisces Season started today, I wanted to post this a memento to it🌊💤
Hope you all have good a start of the week!☀️🌊
And happy Pisces Season!!🌊☀️♥️
Harmoonix ☀️🌊☀️
1K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 3 months
Text
𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
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summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.
author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!
now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)
word count: 13.5k
warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!
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“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  
You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.
And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.
“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”
“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 
“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.
“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”
The way he says it, you almost believe him.
“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.
And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.
But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.
If only you knew. 
Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 
౨ৎ
“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 
“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 
“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 
“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”
“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 
“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.
You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.
When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 
You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.
He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.
“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.
“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.
“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”
“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 
“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”
“Oh yeah, international law, right?”
“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”
“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 
“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”
“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 
“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 
“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.
“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.
“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.
“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.
“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 
“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 
“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.
“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 
“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”
“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.
“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 
“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.
“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.
“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”
“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.
“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.
“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”
“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.
“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.
You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 
“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.
“Yeah, me either, kid.”
“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.
“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”
“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 
“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.
“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.
“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.
“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.
“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”
“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.
“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”
“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.
“Not yet, you’re not.” 
“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”
“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 
“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 
He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.
The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.
But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.
He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 
“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 
“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 
“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”
You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.
Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.
Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 
“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 
“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.
“Nothing.” 
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 
“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 
“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”
You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.
౨ৎ
You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.
The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 
You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 
It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.
That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.
You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 
You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 
Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 
This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.
“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.
You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.
“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 
Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.
And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 
But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 
And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 
You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 
You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 
There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.
So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!
In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 
You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 
Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.
“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 
“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.
“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 
“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”
“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 
You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 
“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”
“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”
“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.
“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”
You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 
“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.
“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.
“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.
“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 
“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.
“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.
“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”
“I-I…I just-”
“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 
“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.
“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 
“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 
“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.
“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 
“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 
“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.
“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 
You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 
“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.
A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.
“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”
“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 
“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”
“My sister’s always got boy problems.”
“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”
“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”
You laugh while Wheezie frowns.
“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”
“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 
“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.
“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.
She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 
“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”
“Yeah.” 
Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.
“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 
“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”
“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.
“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”
“Huh?” he questions.
“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.
“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”
“She.”
“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”
“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”
“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”
That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 
౨ৎ
The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 
The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 
R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?
that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.
R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?
so she deserves death????
R: The impound lot at the very least
if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it
R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are
did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?
R: No.
R: Ur fault. You gave her yours
you gave her yours too
and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault
R: She’s five, genius
R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid
౨ৎ
Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 
And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 
But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.
But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 
You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.
You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 
You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 
“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 
You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.
Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.
You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.
The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 
You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.
You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.
“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 
“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”
“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”
“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”
“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.
You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.
“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 
“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 
“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 
“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 
“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.
“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”
“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”
“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.
R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house
R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you
“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.
“What’s inside? I thought-”
“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”
“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”
“Y-yeah?”
“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.
“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”
You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 
Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 
“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.
“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 
“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 
“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.
You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 
You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 
You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.
“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 
You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.
Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.
And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.
At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.
“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.
“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 
“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.
“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 
The way he says it you believe him. 
You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 
You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.
“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 
His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 
“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.
He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 
It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 
He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 
Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.
Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 
౨ৎ
A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.
It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get
along,  but they look like they’re fine now.
“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.
“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”
“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”
“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 
“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.
“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months
ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.
“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”
You guess that God was on your side today. 
R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?
sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn
R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?
you know me so well
R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.
You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.
Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.
You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.
The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.
“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”
“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.
A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.
“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 
“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”
“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”
“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”
“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”
“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.
“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.
“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”
“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.
“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.
“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”
“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”
“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”
“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 
“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 
“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.
“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 
“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”
“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”
“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 
“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”
“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 
And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 
“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 
“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”
The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 
“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 
You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.
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Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 
Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you
Princess: please rafey
“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.
“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.
“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.
“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”
“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”
“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”
“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.
“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.
“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 
He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”
Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.
“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”
Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 
“Make you forget?” he questions. 
“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 
There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.
“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.
His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.
You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.
“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”
You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 
“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 
“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.
“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.
“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.
His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 
“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 
“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.
Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.
The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.
His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.
His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.
You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 
You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 
His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 
You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 
Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.
Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to
touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.
“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”
“I tried, daddy, I did-”
“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”
“No, I did, I swear-”
“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.
“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.
“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 
“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.
“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”
You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 
He looks up again. 
“You ready, kid?” 
“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.
You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 
“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.
“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”
“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.
“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.
“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 
You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.
He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 
You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.
“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”
And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.
“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.
A few minutes pass by.
“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.
Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.
“Feel better, kid?” 
“So much better, Rafey.” 
You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.
JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?
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