#I love him so much it’s not even funny-

[lovecla]

STUCK WITH YOU ; QUINN HUGHES.

❄︎ pair: quinn hughes x y/n.

❄︎ synopsis: of all the things y/n thought she was going to do on christmas eve, being stuck with her sister’s brother-in-law, quinn hughes, wasn't one of them.

❄︎ word count: 5.6k

❄︎ chapter warnings: unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut (once), softdom!quinn, dirty talk.

💌 from me to you: merry christmas, babies 🩶 i hope all of you had a great time and lots of delicious food. 1st of all, i’d like to apologise bc i got carried away with the word count! 2nd of all, i’m sorry about how dirty this is… this was supposed to be wholesome and cute but i don’t know what happened 😭 sorry…. anyways, as always, forgive me for this poorly written smut and share with me your thoughts! i love you! ♡

𖧷

Ever Since your sister started dating one of the most known hockey players, Luke Hughes, your life changed— for the better, that is. It’s not like you’re used to all the attention, but it’s nice to attend parties and meet your favorite hockey players for free.

But, the only issue you didn’t see coming when she announced that she was, in fact, very much in love with the youngest of the Hughes brothers is that now you have to constantly coexist with your long time celebrity crush, Quinn Hughes.

It’s an old thing, your situation with Quinn Hughes. You first started noticing him during his time in college, when he was just eighteen.

None of your friends understood what was so special about him but you just told them they didn’t have to: Quinn Hughes is one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, and you’ll stand by that until the end of your days.

When your sister decided that she would make Luke Hughes hers, you remember laughing and saying: He’ll be yours when Quinn Hughes’s mine.

Turns out, Luke is your sister’s.

And, well. Quinn’s not yours.

When you’re around him, during dinners and parties, you almost don’t even acknowledge him. It’s just because you don’t know how to be around him without immediately blushing and cringing at your own words.

It’s like you’re a teenager all over again, but what else can you do, really. He’s attractive, he’s funny and he cares about the people he loves; you cannot not be in love with someone like him.

But now you’re his brother’s sister in law and have been for the past year. You have been doing a great job at not staying in the same room as him for too long, and even if you can come off as rude or mean, it’s better than to get caught while watching him with lovey eyes.

It’s December 24th, and you’re on your way to your sister’s house, where you’d spend Christmas with her— and since she’s only arriving later that night because of work, you’ll be there earlier to arrange things for her.

You’re annoyed by the fact that she has to work until late during Christmas time but at least you’ll get to spend the night with at least one of your family members, since your parents are out of town.

What’s also annoying is the fact that it’s cold and snowing. Not just normal, winter type of snow but North-Pole type of snow. You’re shivering inside your car, because your heater is broken and you stupidly decided that it’d be a great idea to wear just leggings and a sweatshirt.

You park in front of her house, sighing and trying to move as fast as your frozen limbs could. You’re also carrying a hundred bags with you, because decorating is your favorite part of Christmas and knowing your sister and her workaholic personality, you know that she probably doesn’t even have her tree out of her attic yet— so you’ll have to do the whole decorating thing by yourself.

Which you silently prefer because there’s nothing you hate more when people try to dictate where your ornaments should go.

You ring her doorbell first, before dumbly realizing that she’s probably at work already, so you just start looking for the spare key she gave you when the door opens, making you lift your head up with a smile, only to drop it two seconds later.

“Oh.”

Quinn’s looking back at you with a polite smile, and you’re not sure that what you’re seeing is actually real because why the hell would Quinn Hughes be at your sister’s house during Christmas?

“Hi, Y/n.” He says, leaning against the door frame.

You frown without even noticing it. Why didn’t she warn you that he would be at her house?

You’ve been staring at him for what feels to be hours, when he speaks again: “Aren’t you… cold?”

You realize that he’s right and you are cold. Cold and tired because you’re still holding the heavy bags, so you just nod and watch as he opens the door more and reaches for the bags in your hand, picking all four of them up like they’re not heavy at all and letting you in.

You’re still in shock and shivering when you close the door behind you, welcoming the warm air inside the house, thankful for your sister’s amazing heating system.

Quinn walks back to the living room and you grab your phone, dialing your sister’s number and putting the phone against your ear.

“Y/n? Are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me he would be at your place?!” You shout slash whisper, hiding behind her clothes rack.

“Who’s he? Why are you whispering?”

“What do you mean who’s he?” You hiss. “I’m talking about him!”

“Who’s… Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Her laugh makes you blush. “I didn’t think he’d arrive so soon. I told him he could come later because you’d be the only one there so I just guessed… well. Nevermind.”

“What do I do?!” you sound so desperate it’s almost funny. “I can’t be here! You know I—”

“Y/n, stop freaking out. It’s just Quinn,” you can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Go decorate and do all that stuff you like to do during Christmas. I’ll pick up the food goodies when I leave work, so please just… be normal.”

“What do you mean be normal I can’t—”

“I gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

She hangs up the call and leaves you staring at your phone screen, contemplating how you would scape when it was so cold outside and Quinn’s already seen you so—

“Y/n? Are you playing hide and seek?”

You immediately get out of your sister’s clothes and smile awkwardly, almost opening the front door and standing in the middle of the road, waiting for someone to run you over.

“No, I—” you stutter, looking everywhere but him. “I was just… talking to my sister…”

“I see,” he says. “Is she okay? It’s snowing outside, and you’re still shivering.”

How the hell did he notice that?, you ask yourself, before nodding.

“She is, yeah. She’s working.”

You step further inside the house, walking past Quinn like he’s some type of virus. Besides the huge tree sitting in the corner by the TV, your sister’s house is poorly decorated, just like you predicted, so at least you’ll have something to busy yourself with until she arrives.

“She told me she’d work until late and she said I could come and help you out with your decorations until she and Luke arrive.” He explains, and you turn around, raising your eyebrow at him, confused.

“Luke’s coming?” You ask.

“He is, yes.”

“I thought… I thought you guys would spend Christmas with your parents.” You say, because that’s what you heard your sister saying.

“Well, they’re coming too,” he chuckles, putting his hand inside his front pockets. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, I thought—” you start, but then you bite your lips, giving up mid-sentence. You didn’t want to sound rude by saying I thought it’d be the two of us only so you just stay quiet. “Nevermind. It’s nice that you all get to spend Christmas together.”

Quinn stares at you for a few seconds before nodding. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

You frown, shaking your head.

“I’m not, I promise. I just wasn’t expecting all of you,” you reply, embarrassed. “I brought my Grinch sweater…”

He laughs, and you have to stop yourself from smiling too.

“It’s okay. I’ll wear my Cindy Lou one.”

You want to yell at him and tell him to stop being nice, but you already know that’s just how he is. That’s one of the reasons you like him so much.

You look outside your sister’s big window and frown, noticing that the snow is only falling faster, and the street is white everywhere now. Even your car is barely visible.

“It’s getting ugly,” you say, pressing your lips into a line. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I don’t know about that…” he comments, sitting on the couch next to your bags. “I did see a blizzard warning in my weather app today.”

“What?” you almost shout. “Are you sure it was for today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s why I came earlier. I thought it was dangerous for you to stay here alone.”

You want to ask him what one thing has to do with the other but you’re too busy blushing over his sentence to do anything else.

“I’d be just fine, but thank you,” you mumble. Sighing, you look down at your clothes. “I’m going to change and then start decorating.” You announce, not even sure why.

“You should probably put on something warmer,” he looks down at your clothes before running his fingers through his hair. “It’d be a shame if you caught a cold.”

You don’t say anything, just nod and make your way to your sister’s bedroom, happy that you’re both the same size. Once you find a comfort, two piece set wool outfit, you grab it and change, immediately welcoming the warmth it brings.

You also spend more time in your sister’s bedroom than you should, sitting on her bed and contemplating what you should do.

It’s not like Quinn’s a bad person or someone difficult to be around, but you get shy really easily and he happens to master the art of making you embarrassed, even if it’s not in a bad way.

He’s probably not even aware of it, too, because he’s just a really kind person and that’s just how he treats everyone he likes.

He doesn’t like us, your brain reminds you, he’s just polite.

Whatever.

You get back to the living room and find him still sitting on the couch, watching some random, Christmas movie. You reach for your bags, trying to open them as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb him.

You remove the plastic boxes full of ornaments and distribute them around you, separating them by color and size. It’s therapeutic to you, and it helps to calm your brain down.

Soon, the fact that Quinn’s in the same room as you, alone, doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re having fun decorating your sister’s empty tree, making it beautifully decorated and ready for the night.

After what’s probably thirty minutes, you reach for the last item inside your boxes, which is a bright, yellow star, heavily bedazzled. It’s been yours since you and your sister moved out of your parents’ house and you love it more than all of your other Christmas decorations combined.

The only issue is that it should sit on top of the tree, and usually it wouldn’t be a problem, because your sister had been letting you decorate her tiny tree for the past years, and you’ve been able to reach it just fine. But this year she decided that she wanted to challenge you and she bought a tall one, so now you can’t really reach the top, and you only realize it after jumping for a few minutes and not even touching the top once.

“Do you need any help?”

Quinn’s calm voice startles you, and you hold back a scream. You had forgotten that he was sitting just behind you, and probably had been watching you embarrassing yourself for the past three minutes.

You’re feeling your cheeks warm when you answer: “No, I… well. Maybe?”

He chuckles, getting up. “Does your sister have a ladder?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “She says someone as tall as her should do just fine without one.”

“I don’t understand,” he laughs. “She’s just a few inches taller than you. There’s barely a difference.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” You say, annoyed. “I can just grab a chair—”

“No, let me help you.” He walks towards you, and when you’re just about to tell him he’s not going to reach the top by himself either he does something that sends you to another world.

He picks you up effortlessly, putting you down on his left shoulder, and hands you the star like he wasn’t holding another human on one of his shoulders.

You put the star on the top of the tree, moving automatically because your brain hasn't been working properly ever since you stepped into your sister’s house.

“Are you done?” he asks, and he doesn’t even sound tired. “Do you need me to hand you anything else or—”

“No, you can… put me down, please.” You mumble, blushing as he grabs your waist and slowly pulls you down until your feet are touching the floor.

He’s standing behind you, chest glued to your back, and you hold back a yelp, stepping away like his touch is deadly.

“Uh, thanks?” It sounds like a question, but you don’t repeat it again. You turn around, watching as he smiles and nods.

“It looks great, Y/n.”

You also smile, because you always do it whenever people compliment your decorations skills. “Thanks. Again.”

“Well,” he shrugs, looking around. “What do you want to do now?”

You mimic his move, looking around your sister’s living room.

“I mean, I don’t know,” you hum. “Maybe set the table? I know it’s early but—”

“Yeah. We can definitely do that.” He starts walking towards the kitchen and you freak out.

“What!” you yell, and he stops, turning back around and looking at you with confused, pretty eyes. “I mean— what do you mean we?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I thought I could help.”

“Are you… like… serious?” You frown.

He frowns back. “I was, yes… are you one of those people who don’t like when people try to help because you’re afraid they’ll end up messing up with your arrangements?”

“Well, yes and no,” you laugh, only to shake your head after. “But it’s not that. I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never seen a man get up to help before. Especially during Christmas.”

He seems to take a while to process what you had just said, but then he laughs, beautifully you’d say.

“They weren’t raised by Ellen Hughes, Y/n. I was.”

You smile, realizing you were utterly fucked. And not in a good way.

You and Quinn worked in silence, and even though you almost dropped the plates twice with how nervous you were, this moment will probably keep repeating itself forever inside your head, from the moment you wake up to the moment you'll go to sleep.

He’s calm and he listens to each one of your orders without hesitation, just nodding and doing as you say. He carries the heavy stuff and just lets you busy yourself with making everything pretty, which you do.

You’re about to tell him that you’re done when the TV catches your attention.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This is Nicholas Edwards reporting live with an urgent weather alert. It’s shaping up to be a Christmas Eve like no other—because we are in the midst of a blizzard that shows no signs of letting up anytime soon.”

“Oh my God,” you hear someone saying, and realize that it was you. You move until you’re standing in front of the TV, covering your mouth with your right hand.

“Right now, snow is coming down at an incredible rate, with visibility dropping rapidly. Winds are gusting up to 40 miles per hour, creating near whiteout conditions in many areas. And the latest forecast? The snow isn’t expected to stop until early tomorrow morning—Christmas Day! That means we’re looking at significant snowfall totals, possibly more than 18 inches in some spots.”

“Oh my God,” you repeat, looking at Quinn before looking back at the TV again.

“Officials are urging everyone to stay indoors tonight. If you don’t absolutely need to be out, don’t risk it. Roads are treacherous, power outages are a real possibility, and emergency crews are working hard to keep up.”

“What about my sister and your family?” you ask, almost rhetorically, because you know Quinn knows just as much as you. “They can’t come now because it’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to call my parents,” he says, reaching for his phone already. “Can you call your sister, please?”

“Already doing it.” You say, dialing your sister’s number.

“So… you saw the news.” Is the first thing she says after picking up and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Quinn and I did,” you say. “What are we going to do? It’s not safe for you to drive around and you’re definitely not driving thirty minutes back to your house in this weather.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs. “Luke and I are together, though. He saw the news before I did and drove me to his and Jack’s apartment since it’s closer to my workplace…”

“So, you’ll stay at their place?” You frown.

“What else can I do, right?” she chuckles, but you can tell she’s just as upset as you. “At least you’re stuck with the sibling that knows how to cook.”

“Hey!” You hear one of Quinn’s brothers, probably Jack, yelling in the back.

“You’re probably right,” you mumble. “Well. We’ll see each other tomorrow then?”

“‘Course we will, bubba,” she sounds joyful again. “Merry Christmas, Y/n. I love you. Tell Quinn I said Merry Christmas to him too!”

“I will,” you nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone screen until it turns black, and sigh. Quinn finishes his phone call and stares at you, blue, fond eyes looking at you with care.

“I guess you heard the same thing as me.” He says and you nod.

“They’re not coming.”

“And neither are my parents,” he sighs. “They’re stuck in their hotel. They’re not letting people leave.”

“God, this sucks,” you grunt, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “We don’t even have food. My sister was supposed to pick it up after she finished her shift but…”

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Quinn says and you can tell he’s trying to sound positive. “Come on, stop pouting.”

You frown. “I wasn’t pouting.”

“Yes, you were,” he smiles. “You do that whenever something doesn’t go your way.”

“I— how do you even know that?” You ask, genuinely amused. He just shrugs and walks back to the kitchen, leaving you and your one hundred thoughts about him alone. “Quinn!”

Dinner goes well. It’s silent and calm, but not in an embarrassing, awkward way. Quinn knows how to cook really well, and his food makes you hold yourself back so you won’t kiss him.

His lips probably taste amazing, just like the rest of him. Sometimes, when your thoughts about how Quinn could make you feel good are too much, you slip your hands under your covers and touch yourself, while imagining your hands are his.

You always feel so deeply embarrassed afterwards, and it takes you a while to convince yourself that you’re not a maniac and getting horny after thinking of your sister’s boyfriend's incredibly hot brother is lowkey expected, because he looks like a God.

You both returned to your bedrooms after the clock hit midnight and you both called your families, with you sleeping in your sister’s room and Quinn sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Although, you haven’t even thought about closing your eyes and going to sleep, because you know you won’t be able to— not when Quinn has been nothing but kind to you the entire night and definitely not when he’s only two doors away from you.

You can feel your body starting to get hot, and you want to shout at it, telling yourself to let it go, because you and Quinn won’t ever be a thing.

You look at the clock sitting on your sister’s bedside table and sigh, reading the late hours. Two thirty-six a.m. and you’re nowhere near Dreamland.

Even though you’re basically at the entrance of Hornyland.

Shaking your head, you get up, deciding to brew some chamomile tea for you, since it always helps you feel sleepier and, hopefully, less horny.

The lukewarm air hits your bare thighs and you’re reminded that you’re not wearing any pants— just one of your sister’s oversized sweaters and panties.

You look around the dark house, watching as snow continues to fall outside, and make your way to the kitchen, walking past Quinn’s closed door and trying not to make any sound.

And you would’ve been successful with your task, if it weren’t for the one plastic cup that fell out of the cupboard when you tried to grab your sister’s kettle.

It fell on the floor and bounced three times before you managed to grab it again. You waited to see if you would hear Quinn’s door open, but since you didn’t, you moved on with your task. While you waited for your water to boil, you leaned against your sister’s island, resting your chin in your hand.

“I thought you were asleep.”

This time, you don’t hold back the yelp that comes out of your mouth. You were so worried about waking Quinn up that you hadn’t considered the fact that he, just like you, might as well not have been able to sleep.

He’s sitting on your sister’s couch, wearing sweatpants and nothing else, looking at you with an indecipherable expression. His entire body is illuminated by the moonlight, and he looks gorgeous.

“Quinn. You scared me,” you put your hand over your heart, feeling your cheeks warm when you realize the movement made your sweater go up, and now Quinn probably saw your underwear. “Uh—”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he gets up, and he does look apologetic. He gets closer to where you were standing and you can help but take a take back. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “No. You?”

“I can’t either,” he says. “Too many thoughts.”

You desperately want to ask him what kind of thoughts are keeping him away from his bed, but you remember that it isn’t your place. And the best thing you can do for yourself right now is stay away from him.

“I— I’ll leave you to it then—”

“Why are you always running away from me?”

His serious tone makes you stop. You look up and stare at his eyes, looking like a child who had just been caught eating sweets before dinner.

Your answer is only natural: “I’m not?”

“Yes, you are,” he steps closer, and the distance between the two of you is now shorter. “Did I do something?”

“What?” you gasp. “No, of course not!”

“Then, you just don’t like me?”

“Gosh, why is it with the Hughes that you’re always so straightforward?” you mumble, frustrated. “I promise you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it because you want me to fuck you?” He raises his brow and you almost drop dead in front of him.

“What.”

It’s almost comical how your eyes double in size and how your mouth opens, just like in the cartoons. You’re trying really hard not to pack your things and leave, because you’re sure something possessed Quinn.

“I’m not dumb, y’know,” he starts. “I can tell when someone’s interested in me, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Quinn—”

“At first,” he continues, paying you no mind. “I thought you were just shy. Then, I realized you only acted that way with me, but I thought you just didn’t like me. But…”

He lifts his hand up and caresses your cheek, the touch making you shiver instantly.

“Would someone who doesn’t like me stare at me like you do?” He keeps touching your face, the light feather touches barely there, but keeping you restless anyway. “It’s so sweet when you blush like that.”

“Quinn…” you try, once again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—”

“Uncomfortable?” he chuckles, like the word alone is enough to make him laugh. “No, sweetheart, you made me hard.”

You blush, thankful that the moonlight isn’t enough to show your red cheeks. “O-Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he smiles, lifting your face just slightly with his thumb on your chin. “Can I kiss you, Y/n?”

I thought you’d never ask, you think. “Yes,” is what you say.

His lips taste like peppermint and his touch on your skin feels like fire. He presses your body against the counter, the cold marble hitting the back of your naked thighs and making you shiver.

It was a pleasant contrast, though: the warmth of his hands holding you close with the coldness of the stone making you shiver.

He kissed you fervently and you moaned inside his mouth, forgetting your shyness and running your fingers through his silky, soft hair. It was like opening presents on Christmas morning, because ever since you were a teenager you’ve been wanting to get your hands on him and now—

“You were right,” you say, breathless. Quinn tilts his head to the side, confused. “I want you to f-fuck me.”

He smirks, mischievously, and it’s probably one of the hottest things you have ever seen.

“Here?” he asks, chuckling.

“No,” you laugh. “My sister would kill me.”

“Mhm.” It’s all he says before picking you up once again, manhandling you however he wanted for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

His bed is untouched when he lays you on it, a clear signal that he hadn’t even laid on it yet. Your sweater rode up, leaving your belly and your panties exposed.

Even though you’re not the type of girl to get embarrassed while having sex, you can feel your cheeks getting warm under Quinn’s lustful gaze. You have imagined this situation so many times before but you never actually thought your dreams would come true, so all of this is still hard for you to take in.

“I can actually hear your brain thinking, Y/n,” Quinn chuckles, standing in front of you. The outline of his dick is so noticeable it has your mouth dry.

“It’s not everyday your crush of years take you to bed,” you let out, only realising what you had just said when you watch his eyebrow going up, and a malicious smile decorate his beautiful face. “I mean—”

“Trust me, Y/n, if I hadn’t spent the last year thinking you hated me, you would’ve ended up in my bed from the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

He leans forward, then starts to pull your panties down. It’s embarrassing to say the least because you know that the fabric which was once pearly, cotton white, is now transparent and ruined. Quinn doesn’t seem to mind that— in fact, the smirk on his face just continues to grow.

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, and you almost choke on your own spit. “Been thinking about you for so long I’m half convinced this is just another dream.”

He drops your underwear somewhere, and places his index finger between your wet folds, the cold touch contrasting with your hotness. He rubs, up and down, slowly and steady. It has you biting your lips, hard.

“Was it like that with you too, Y/n?” he asks, tone one octave deeper. “Endless dreams of how I would fuck you senseless, leave you wet and whimpering in my sheets, pussy dripping with my cum.”

He kept getting closer to your clit each time he opened his mouth to talk, but he still wasn’t touching it, which was starting to frustrate you.

“Quinn—”

“I’d always wake up hard, with my dick throbbing inside my pants, and you know what I’d do?”

He places his finger on your engorged clit, but doesn’t do anything, just— waits.

“Ask me what I would do, Y/n.” He orders, and you moan before complying.

“What, ah, what would you do?” you ask, and he starts moving his finger again. “Ah.”

“I’d fuck my hand. Wrap my dick around them, holding it tightly, imagining it was your cunt squeezing me like that,” he confesses, opening your legs more, leaving you spread in front of him like you’re nothing but a cheap whore. “And I’d come so hard, imagining I was filling you up. In the next morning, I’d shake hands with you, watching you give me that sweet smile of yours, not even knowing that I had just used it to touch myself while imagining it was you.”

He pressed two fingers on your hole, making you clench around nothing while he seemed to be having fun with your struggle.

“Was it like that with you, too?” he asks again, but you can tell by his reaction that he wasn’t expecting you to answer. Yet, you do it anyway.

“N-not dreams,” you breathe, as he inserts two of his fingers inside you, blue eyes never leaving yours. “When I couldn’t sleep, I’d, ah, touch myself, and pretend it was you.”

“Yeah?” he hums, sinking his fingers deeper inside you, the wet sound of sex leaving you dizzy. “Such a naughty, little slut.”

You moan, and Quinn stops holding back as he starts finger fucking you, finding your sweet spot and curling his fingers up until he had you trashing under him. You took pride in knowing your body and mastering the art of touching yourself, but not even in your wildest dreams you’d imagine that having something inside you could feel this good.

You’re not even holding back your sounds, you just let Quinn hear how insane he drives you, and good you’re feeling. You have your eyes closed— because holding eye contact with Quinn might be too much for you to handle— and your boobs exposed, since your sweater rode all the way up.

You can feel your orgasm starting to build up and just when you’re about to warn Quinn about it, he pulls his fingers back, making you cry, loudly.

“Wha— why?” you sound needy and desperate but you pay it no mind.

Quinn smiles, so sweet and kind that you wouldn’t even imagine what came out of his mouth afterwards.

“You’ll come on my cock tonight, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of what happens is basically history.

He removes his sweatpants and his dick hits his stomach, the tip almost purple with how red it was. The precum leaking from it made you lick your lips, imagining how good it would feel to have that in your mouth.

He throws the pants somewhere, and lays on top of you, right in the middle of your spread thighs. He looks down and holds his dick, rubbing it up and down on your folds, mixing your wetness with his, and just the view is almost enough to make you come.

He rubs the tip on your clit, and you watch as your swollen, needy button throbs under the nasty touch, and how your pussy leaves his dick glistening with how wet you were.

“I’ll fuck you now, okay?” His voice is calm, and soft, different from previously. You nod, smiling shyly. “Words, baby.”

“‘Mkay,” you answer, closing your eyes as he inserts himself inside you, slowly.

You can feel your walls opening up for him, and even though you’ve had sex before, nothing will ever top this. He’s thick, and you can feel him everywhere, deeper and deeper.

“Holy shit, Quinn,” you say, turning your hands into fists.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hisses, putting his hands on each side of your face. “Squeezing me so good, fuck, Y/n, I might come in seconds if you keep squeezing me like that.”

He removes his dick from you, leaving just the tip, only to slam it back in you, fucking you senseless, just like he told you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the room almost as quick as the tears fell from your eyes, the feeling of finally getting what— or who— you wanted making you cry tears of joy.

He kept fucking you, and once his lips found yours once again, you knew you were done. You came on his dick, like he said you’d do, moaning inside his mouth and pulling his hair, harshly.

“Fuck, Quinn, uh,” you inhaled his scent as his naked body engulfed yours completely. “Fuck, fuck.”

“It’s like you were made to, uh, take my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, a clear sign that he was about to come. “Say it, baby, tell me what you were made for.”

“Quinn—”

“Say it, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I was made to take y-your cock,” you sob. “O-only yours.”

“Only mine?” you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Only yours.”

“Good,” thrust, “Girl.” Thrust.

He takes his dick out of you just a few seconds before he comes, and the loss of it makes you whimper and hide your face in his neck. The warm feeling of his come against your used, swollen cunt is enough to get another orgasm out of you, even if a little bit weaker this time.

You both stay silent, only the sounds of your breaths filling up the room. The weight of his body on top of you is comforting, and even though you know he’s not putting all of his weight on top of you, you feel safe either way.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible, since your face is still in his neck.

He chuckles, breathless. “What are you saying thank you for, baby? I should be the one saying thank you.”

“You just made all of my wet dreams come true,” you explain. “Even if we’re probably going to hell because no one should be having sex on Christmas.”

Quinn laughs and rolls to the side, resting his head on the pillow. “Touché, sweetheart, touché,” he turns his head to the side and looks at you. “Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Quinny.”

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist.

[16novvs]

leaving tons of kiss marks ( like lipstick) on s2ep7 silcos face w/o him noticing

stain me 💋

authors note: this is my first ask, thank you so much for sending one in! this is more on the shorter side then what i typically write but your ask felt like it needed something short and sweet and so here we are. i enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it!! i couldn’t find a screen cap or gif of him from that specific episode but i hope this is ok! fluffy, flirty, suggestive masterlist

You couldn’t resist sometimes. Silco, with his sharp features and ever-serious demeanor, made it impossible not to mess with him just a little. There was something endlessly satisfying about breaking through that impenetrable façade, even momentarily. This time, you had the perfect idea.

It started one evening as you sat perched on the arm of his chair, watching him pour over reports. His mismatched eyes scanned the pages with sharp intensity, the faint flicker of irritation crossing his face now and then. Likely, some underling had failed to meet his expectations—again.

Leaning closer, you pressed a kiss to his temple, a playful distraction from his relentless focus. He didn’t even flinch, still absorbed in his work. “Busy as always,” you murmured, brushing your lips over his jawline next.

“Distracting me again?” he muttered, his voice low and laced with faint amusement.

“No,” you replied innocently, pressing another kiss, this time to the corner of his lips. “Just appreciating you.”

Your grin widened as faint outlines of your lipstick smudged across his pale skin. He didn’t notice. Another kiss followed, just below his ear, then one on his cheek, then another—and another. You were in his lap now, his arm resting absentmindedly around your waist as you peppered kisses across his face. Silco didn’t mind one bit, continuing to work as best he could despite you all over him.

Before long, his features were a patchwork of lipstick marks, each one bolder than the last. By the time you were done, he looked as if he’d been ambushed by a lovesick artist. Yet Silco, ever the picture of calm precision, remained blissfully unaware, tightening his hold on you and interpreting your soft kisses as quiet encouragement to keep working.

The real payoff came later when Sevika entered the office, knocking twice before being told to enter.

“Silco, about that shipment—” she started but stopped short, her usual stoic demeanor cracking as her mouth twitched into a smirk. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Silco looked up from his desk, unamused. “Elaborate.”

“You’ve got more lipstick on your face than a bordello mirror,” Sevika remarked, before raising her hands in mock surrender as Silco shot her a sharp look. With a wry chuckle, she gave a small shrug and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone with him once more.

You couldn’t hold back the laughter that bubbled out of you. Silco’s hand finally moved to his face, realization dawning. Untangling himself from you, he stood abruptly and strode to the small mirror on the wall. His expression shifted from confusion to a rare blend of exasperation and faint amusement.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said, his tone sharp as he turned to you. But the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him.

“I think you look great,” you teased, stepping forward to adjust his tie as if nothing were amiss. And he did—Silco was already devastatingly handsome, but the smudges of your red lips on his face stirred something inside of you.

He grabbed your wrists gently, guiding your hands to his shoulders as his own settled at your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re lucky I tolerate your antics,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Tolerate?” you echoed with mock offense, looking up at him through your lashes. “I thought you loved my antics.”

Silco let out a low, velvet chuckle that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “What am I going to with you,” he hummed.

Still in his hold, he eased you backwards until the edge of the desk pressed into your backside. Then, with calculated precision, Silco returned the favor, planting kisses across your face, each one soft and deliberate. You couldn’t stop giggling and squirming in his grasp.

After a final feather-light kiss on your lips—just enough to stain your rouge onto him—he pulled back slightly, admiring the way your cheeks flushed with warmth. You looked radiant.

And without warning, he lifted you, settling you onto the desk so that he was positioned between your legs. A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned in, his hands firmly gripping your thighs. “Now,” he murmured, teasing. “Where else would you care to stain me?”

i wrote this in a bit of a rush because it iss 3 am !! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, cheers x

[sun-kissy]

hi, my darling!! i love, love, your writing, and just wanted to say that i am obsessed! may i please request scarf (i can't find the emoji) 😭 with our dearest remus? the prompt would be — “is there anything i can say to make this less awkward?”

thank you so much darling! <3 and here’s a scarf for you🧣(found the emoji for you haha 😉)

mistletoe | r.l.

— “Is there anything I can say to make this less awkward?”

remus lupin x reader —★— word count 1.7k

summary: you attend your neighbour, sirius’ christmas party, where remus saves you from a bully before kissing you under the mistletoe :)

cw: fluff, mean bully cormac mclaggen, protective remus <333, reader gets panicky, sirius is a protective + matchmaker friend haha

Your eyes dart around the living room nervously, drink sloshing around the cup in your hand. The music from the speakers is booming, blaring disco lights making it hard to see much. You can’t seem to spot any familiar faces.

Sirius, your next-door neighbour and friend, was throwing a huge Christmas party. All his old friends were there too. You were familiar with them, having seen them quite a bit whenever they went over. And they seemed nice for the most part, if a bit raucous. You think you’d probably feel better around them than stranded in this buzzing, foreign crowd.

You continue taking cautious steps forward, eyes trained on the ground as you push your way through bodies of people dancing and snogging and puking and – fuck.

You don’t even realise that you’ve spilled your drink all over someone until he, not very nicely, alerts you to it.

“Hey!”

It doesn’t occur that he’s calling out to you. Your hearing is all but closed off to the noise of the party.

“Hey – you!” All of a sudden there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, and you freeze, quickly whipping around to find the source. It feels like your flight or fight mode has been activated, and you’re squirming away before you can even spot his face in the sea of people.

Breaths are loud, deafening in your ears. They might be yours, or maybe they’re those of the crowd starting to gather round. You’re not quite sure.

Your eyes land on him. The buff blonde in front of you, grip tightening around your wrist as he pulls you closer. There’s words coming out of his mouth. Spit landing on your nose. But you can’t seem to make out a thing he’s saying, phrases like stupid girl and bitch slipping through your consciousness and adding fuel to the fire of panic in your throat.

You open your mouth to apologise, though you’re not quite sure what you’ve done. Nothing comes out but a pathetic croak.

The scary man’s voice gets louder and louder. You’ve never quite seen rage in human form, but here he was. Here he was. And he was going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it.

“Hey, man.”

Another voice, getting closer. It’s softer. Gentler. You feel an arm around your waist, and the touch is kind enough to not make you want to pull away.

“Let go of her, please. It was an honest mistake.”

“But this bitch –”

“I said,” you can hear the hint of hardness in the nice man’s voice, “Let go.” Somehow, you know it’s not directed at you. His grip on your waist tightens the slightest bit, but careful not to hurt.

There’s a beat of silence before the harsh hand leaves your wrist. The relief is immediate, the familiar feeling of a come down after a painful high. Your skin doesn’t feel so foreign to you anymore.

“Thank you,” the kind man says from beside you, though he doesn’t sound very grateful. “I’m sure Sirius could spare you one of his shirts, if you’d like.” Once again, there’s no actual apology in his tone.

Without waiting for a reply, you feel yourself being gently steered away. You look around as you walk, spotting expressions of shock and humour and all sorts of funny feelings.

You twist your head to take a look at your saviour, feeling like your heart might stop beating all over again.

Remus Lupin. You liked him more than you knew him.

You’ve seen him a few times at Sirius’ place, spoken to him even fewer. Yet nothing but sweetness came to mind at the thought of him; all softness and pretty scars and kind smiles. You think maybe the word gentleman was made for him. Even Sirius seemed to be lovelier in Remus’ presence, which was saying a lot, because you thought your neighbour really was quite lovely already.

You’d never seen Remus so riled up before. Honestly, you didn’t think he was capable of it. There was a silly little feeling in your tummy, to know that he had gotten so worked up to protect you.

“Sweetheart,” his voice brings you back to the present. And he’s back to normal, back to the soft, calm man you so adored.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles bemusedly, though his brows are bent with concern. You realise he’s brought you to the kitchen, where there’s fewer people and more air to breathe. The feeling of his thumbs gently rubbing your wrists is almost too much to bear. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m –” you try not to shudder as the thought of the angry man comes back to you, “fine. I’m fine.”

Remus gives your hands a squeeze. “Okay. You’re okay now, yeah? I’m sorry about Cormac. He was a dick in high school too,” he sighs. “Once a dick, always a dick.”

You let out a giggle. “Really?”

He grins, a proper one. “Yeah, really. One time, James — you know James, right? The bespectacled one with the curly hair —” he continues when you nod, “— yeah, so James walked right up to Cormac and —“

“Hey,” Remus is interrupted by Sirius, breathless as he shoves past people, into the kitchen. His brows are pinched together as he pulls you into a half hug. “Hey, babe. Are you good? I heard what happened just now with McLaggen, the asshole.”

“I’m okay, really,” you squeak out as Sirius pulls you even closer. “Sirius —“

You feel your cheeks heating up when you hear Remus chuckling. Sirius lets you go from the hug now, but his grip on your shoulders is vice-like as he looks you over like a concerned mother hen. “Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?”

“Well, he did, but —“

“He touched you?” Sirius sounds close to appalled. Remus is snickering now, and you feel like digging yourself a hole and crawling into it. “The bastard! I’m gonna —“

“Sirius!” you hiss, cutting him off. “I’m all good, I swear. Remus got me out of it.”

Sirius flicks his gaze over to Remus. In a split second, you know what’s coming when you see the twinkle in his eyes.

“Sirius. Don’t you dare.”

He flashes you a quick grin before turning to his friend, wiggling his eyebrows. “So, loverboy here saved you, huh?”

Remus quirks an eyebrow at you questioningly. You turn to Sirius with a pleading look; you knew he knew all about your little crush. But of course, he wouldn’t stop there.

“Did he swoop you into his arms? Catch you as you fell?”

“No…“ you mumble shyly, shoulders up to your ears.

“Well,” Sirius smirks, “He can now!”

The only warning you get is a wink, before Sirius’ hand is on your shoulder and he gives you a push.

You let out a yelp as you tumble backwards, straight into Remus.

Embarrassment washes over you as his strong arms immediately come around your waist, swiftly pressing onto your stomach as he steadies you. “Woah, woah, easy there. Are you okay?”

You blink. “I… um… I…”

The feeling of his hands on you is distracting, too much to take. It’s like your legs have turned to jelly, tongue to rubber. Words turn to dust on the tip of it.

Maybe this is how you perish, you think. You’d die of shyness in Remus’ arms; perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.

A loud gasp startles you out of your reverie. Both you and Remus turn to find Sirius staring at you with his hands on his cheeks, eyes dramatically wide and mouth agape.

“Oh. My. God,” he gushes, stepping towards you. “What do we have here?”

You shoot him a glare, hoping it conveys both your desperation and annoyance. Sirius seems, or rather pretends, to understand nothing.

“Would you look at that?” he continues with a grin, chucking his head upwards. You look up to feel your heart drop.

There’s a quiet snort from Remus at the sight. Green leaves, red ribbon adorning it. Mistletoe.

“Mistletoe!” Sirius exclaims, as if it weren’t painfully obvious.

You cringe, immediately hanging your head to stare at your hands. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and hope the red on your cheeks isn’t as obvious as you think it is.

Sirius is annoyingly loud as he continues to yap, but your heartbeat is louder.

Remus clears his throat. You blink, whipping your head upwards to find him looking at you with an apologetic smile. He rubs the nape of his neck bashfully. “Is there anything I can say to make this less awkward?”

A soft huff of laughter escapes you despite yourself. “No, I… I don’t think so.”

He grins. You feel your resolve melting into a puddle. “Kiss me.”

Remus blinks, eyes widening for a split second before his lips quirk upwards. “What?”

“Kiss me,” you breathe, hoping you don’t sound as anxious as you feel. “I mean, not because I want you to or anything —“ you laugh nervously, “— but because it’s mistletoe, and — oh.”

Remus’ lips are on yours in a moment. The squeak you let out dissolves into his mouth, hand gently cupping the back of your head.

You feel his soft hands on your waist and his sweet lips on yours and you feel like you’re falling all over again.

This is what that muggle singer Sirius loved — Elvis Presley — must’ve been feeling, you think, when he wrote Can’t Help Falling in Love. He must’ve been kissing the epitome of love itself, because you seemed to be falling into Remus, melting into his touch. If you were a fool for rushing in, then so be it. You’d be anything to taste his lips again.

Remus lets go all too soon, though you’d probably feel the same way if he let go after a lifetime. He gives you that sweet, sweet smile again, and you can’t help but smile back.

“You know, we don’t always have to be under the mistletoe to kiss.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” Remus grins, “like right now.”

He tugs on your waist, stumbling until your back hits the wall. He kisses you again, and you’re suddenly very grateful for Sirius. You’d have to thank him for three things this Christmas — introducing you to Remus, inviting you to this party, and most importantly — for that song reference.

san’s christmas sleepover

[st8rkey]

cannot get enough of your stories — just gonna dump my thoughts while reading 🤍🤍 it’s gonna be a long dump probably so excuse me. for some reason the reblog was gone so sorry if you see this twice 😭

—

Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.

oh WOW. this is like the hottest thing ever?? the way he turns around to look at her, smiling and then WINKING TOO?! this is why i can’t get enough of your stories – you always make me giggle like a 6-year-old girl 😫😫

—

“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it.

i would be laughing my ass off if someone did this to me. embarrassing much? get the fuck out ❤️

“She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.

yes sir!! 🫡🫡 whatever you say

Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.

oh this is too cute. the shy smile.. please i’m gonna throw my phone across the room.

—

“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”

“You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit..

“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.

DO YOU WANT ME DEAD???? ☺️☺️ “The fuck you have?” i’m pulling my hair out. your stories never fail to amaze me in every way possible.

—

the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.

i can’t stop laughing at this 😭😭 the way you write smut with these funny moments mixed in is just amazing.

“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall. — i had to put my phone down for a minute, needed to catch my breath.

“Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” — i don’t even know what to say, im dumbfounded.

—

“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?”

“Boyfriend privileges,”

their banter is the cutest thing ever.

—

Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.

Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC

oh my god. literally just oh my god.

what did tumblr do to deserve you, HELLO?

twenty-five days. so so proud of you!! i just have no words with how much i love your account. you never fail to amaze me 🥹❤️ you deserve a standing ovation for all the work you’ve put into this and all your other stories.

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪

𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.

Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.

You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.

“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.

“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.

“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”

You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.

I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.

After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.

With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.

You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.

There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.

“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.

“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.

“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”

The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.

“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.

“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.

“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.

“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.

You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.

“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.

“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.

The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.

”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”

You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.

The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.

“Hey, Babe.”

Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…

“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.

“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.

“Thanks,” you sigh.

“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.

“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.

“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”

“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.

He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.

You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.

You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’

Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.

“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.

“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.

“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”

“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.

Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.

“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”

“Oh, yeah-”

“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.

Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.

“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.

Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.

You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.

“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.

You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”

Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.

“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.

“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”

You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.

You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.

At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.

“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”

Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.

“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”

“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.

“Mhmm…” You giggle.

“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.

Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.

“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.

“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.

Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.

“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.

The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.

You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.

“Should we-”

”We should,” you hum.

“Do that again. Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.

“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.

“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’

“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.

“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.

The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.

"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.

Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.

He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.

You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.

You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.

You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.

“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.

“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…

“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.

“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.

You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”

You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.

You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.

You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.

Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.

“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.

Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.

You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.

"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.

You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.

His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.

“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.

“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”

You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“

“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.

“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”

”Yeah?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.

Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.

“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.

“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.

“You want my dick, princess?”

“Mhmm…” You hum needily.

“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.

You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.

“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.

“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.

Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.

Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.

“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.

“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’

“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”

You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.

Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.

“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.

“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.

Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.

He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.

Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.

The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.

Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.

Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.

Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC

You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.

“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”

You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.

When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubts. ♥️

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush

[robo-writing]

hello! i usually just read your fabulous writing but i’ve had this stuck in my head for a while and i really like how you write logan. and i’m also not sure if anyone has asked this before 😭

i really love a pathetically in-love logan... the only thing that can get through the adamantium wall of a man is his sweet wife. him coming home from work straight to bury his face in his wife’s chest and neck to sniff her our as she tells him about her day. him also being like this in their intimate life 🫠 augh im sorry this is eating away at my brain.

I’m a wife guy Logan truther, the entire beginning of origins is just MWAH. (Headcanons below)

First thing he does when he gets home is take his shoes off. The second thing he does when he gets home is search for you.

It’s a good day when he gets to kiss you after work (which is every day), it’s a great day when you offer to take care of him too.

He’ll burn in hell before admitting to anyone he likes wearing your fuzzy spa-care headband, and he’ll burn a second time before big bad Logan admits his favorite smell is whatever the fuck’s in your moisturizer.

Hell, he didn’t even know what moisturizer was before he met you.

Even better is when you gossip with him as you’re shaving him

God, he REALLY enjoys when you shave him

It’s an excuse to sit you on his lap because “How else are you gonna get a good look sweetheart? Need you nice and close, gotta be accurate.”

Sometimes he’ll flinch and pretend you cut him, only to pull away with a shit-eating grin

That usually gets him a slap to the chest, but hey, it’s a LITTLE funny.

You also like to gossip with him—jobs, friends, whatever’s been happening with you—all while massaging his face with whatever funky concoction you’ve got in your hands (Toner baby, it’s toner)

“So, Jane got that promotion she was asking for,” you grin, and he knows whatever you’re about to say next is gonna be juicy.

“And she got it because she caught the boss cheating on his wife.”

It’s almost comical how wide his eyes get. “You serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack.”

“Fuck,” he chuckles, making sure to keep you comfortable while he sits back. “Tell me more.”

It’s not all one-sided, sometimes he comes home and just has this inexplicable need to be next to you.

If you’re cooking, he’s standing behind you, grabbing ingredients and handing them off with a smile.

If you’re watching tv, he pulls you up and into his arms, making sure he can bury his face against your neck.

If you’re in bed asleep, he quietly slips his clothes off and gets under the sheets with you.

(18+) Even when he’s in more of a frisky mood he can’t seem to get enough of you, letting his hands roam across your torso, fingers bleeding lust as they grab at your soft skin

He likes to whisper all the things he thought about while he was gone—your sounds, your touch, your taste

And he’ll recite it all while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties

“Missed you sweetheart, missed you so much,” he mumbles, before letting the pads of his fingers slip beneath the fabric and play with the wetness that gathers on them. “Can tell you missed me too.”

[meetletsinmontauk]

stop waiting- L.H

There's not a synopsis, I'm sorry

Disclaimer: nsfw, contains smut!!

It had been 3 months since Lee Heeseung’s world turned upside down. 3 months since he switched from a homemade man to a big party animal. 3 months since his girlfriend, Karina, left. 4 years of relationship, for nothing. 4 years of promises and plans simply went down the sink. 4 years for at the end be cheated on with that Sim Jake guy. But Heeseung didn’t need her anymore, he had his soju, his hennessy and his weed. They would never leave him. That’s why every Friday night till Monday morning, he had his ass stuck in a party, surrounded by strangers, numb of feelings. 

Numb of feelings, that was the best part, he couldn’t feel anything among the strangers, |among the drinking, the loud music, among the dancing, the sweat bodies, among the sex, and the different beds he had been on. 3 months of living completely alienated from reality. It was the price he decided to pay in order to not feel the pain, to try, somehow, fill the void Karina left on him.

He was at one of those parties, smoking some weed on someone's couch, next to his best friends Jay, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. He didn’t talk or hung out with them too much when he was in a relationship. But now, he was free and he had no one to tell him what to do or not. Even though his focus wasn’t on his friends, it was on a girl across the room. She was wearing a mini skirt and stiletto heels and she was an old acquaintance, they studied at the same high school, they had art classes together, and he simply hated that girl. 

He hated her because she was perfect. She was beautiful, talented, kind, funny and intelligent, and, of course, he had fallen in love with her back then, when he was still a loser. During that time, they became closer very quickly, and he did everything for her. Everything to see her smiling. But she kept him in the friendzone, because she was banging with his old brother, Lee Taemin, who simply dumped her 2 months later, after he lost interest.

 It was 4 years ago. It was the last time she talked to him, and because of that, even being perfect she was also an asshole.

He kept staring at her, wondering how were the odds they would be at the same party, in the same night? He dragged his joint again, trying to relax and praying she would go away soon. He probably wasn’t good in that manifestation thing cause out of the blue, she started to scan the room, till her gaze crossed with his. “Fuck”, he cursed under his breath. And, worse, she started to walk toward his group. “For fuck’s sake…”, he cursed again, then tilted on the couch, trying to convince himself that her presence wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he hadn't seen her in 4 years, but she looked even more beautiful, the most radiant and sexy version of her, which made him hate her even more. “Damn”, he thought when she stopped in front of the couch he and his friends were sitting on. 

“Hello, guys!”, she greeted, smiling, “Hey!”, drunk Sunghoon, sober Jay and stoned Ni-ki greeted her. But not Heeseung. She lifted an eyebrow and turned specifically to him “Hi, Heeeung”. He lifted his gaze, dragged his joint and exhaled slowly, everyone was looking at him, apparently he had no choice but to answer “‘Sup?” “Are you good?” “Do I look good to you?”. She stared at him, he looked good, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “It’s been a while…”, she continued. Heeseung chuckled, “You think so?” “Why does he keep making rhetorical questions?”, she thought. “Can we… hum… can we talk? In private” “Now you wanna talk?” “Well, yes, it’s important” “You can speak. My bros and I, we’ve got no secrets” “I know we haven't spoken in a while…” “A while?!”, she ignored the 1000th interruption and continued,  “...but, hum, could you tell your brother to stop trying to get in contact with me, please?” “Are you talking about Taemin?”, she nodded. Hee laughed, “You gotta be fucking kidding me! You come here, after 4 years, to ask me a favor!? Involving my hyung!?”, he paused to chuckle, “Do you think I am some sort of idiot?”. 

She was embarrassed, the way he was stating she did sound like a selfish bitch “No… I just didn’t know who else to occur” “Well, if you want Taemin hyung to stay away from you, you go and tell him yourself”, she held back the tears, she didn’t remember Heeseung being so rude. Probably because he wasn't, but now he hated all women, he despised them. 

“Heeseung, please, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t need your help” “I’m not your fucking bitchboy anymore” “But…” “If you’re done already, the door it's that way” he pointed to the door of the living room. “If you aren’t done yet, go anyway”. She opened her mouth to say another thing but she gave up, it didn’t seem he was going to bend.

 “Sorry for bothering you. Bye, guys” “Bye!”, the other 3 said, while the 4 of them watched her go. Jay poked Heeseung’s arm to scold his friend, “Bro, you didn’t have to be rude with her” “What?! Are you defending her?!” “Bro, I’m just saying you could have helped her, you know your brother is an asshole!” “She’s not my problem, Jay. She picked Taemin back then, now she deals with him” “Yeah, but can you stop acting like a resentful child just for a second and…”, Heeseung put his hand on his ears and shouted, “Ah!”, Jay shutted his mouth and tapped his ears “You’re giving me a headache, Jongseong!” “What a hypocrite”, he thought before standing up. “Where are you going?”, Sunghoon asked “Bathroom” “Good! Bring me some more of this drink, yeah?” “Don’t you think you’ve drank too much already?” “Sorry, mom”, Jay rolled his eyes, “Will be back soon”.

When Jay stepped out of the bathroom the first thing he saw was her talking to her friend Minji. She had red eyes and was clearly nervous. He probably shouldn’t cause of his loyalty to Heeseung, but he couldn’t help himself, he had to do something to help. So he approached them, “Excuse me, girls…”, they turned to him “Hi, Jay”, she sniffed. Jay and her were friends in high school, they were lab partners, but he ended up being under Heeseung’s guard after they stopped talking. “I’m so sorry about Hee, he has been angry at everything lately” “It’s ok, I shouldn’t have talked to him, I know Karina doesn't like it, but he was truly my last option” “You…” “She’s telling the truth. She already tried everything, but Lee Taemin keeps creating fake accounts on instagram just to try talking with her”, Minji completed “I’m sure he does, but… you said Karina doesn’t like it when you talk to Heeseung?” “Yeah, that’s why I distanced from him” “You’re kidding, right?”. She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow, “No, Jay, I’m not” “Heeseung thinks you did that because of his brother” “Why would I? Heeseung was one of my best friends back then” “Fuck!”, Jay put his hand on his forehead, “Heeseung is so stupid!” “Why?” “Karina told him you asked her to tell Heeseung that if one Lee sucks, then 2 Lees probably sucked the double and you would rather lose your vision than to see any of them in front of you again” “What?!”, she and Minji said in unison “I never said that. Karina hated me since the first time we met” “Its true”, Minji commented.  “Oh my God, I have to tell Heeseung about that”, Jay turned to leave, but she didn’t let him. “Jay, wait…”, she held his arm, he looked down at her hand “What?” “Don’t do it. I don’t want to ruin their relationship. Hee’s happy with her and I want him to be happy. Even with a nasty bitch like her” “Lucky for you, they are not together anymore”, her lips parted. “W-what? Is that for real?”, he nodded “What happened?” “She cheated” “With who?!”, Minji asked “Minji!”, she scolded her friend “How’s he dealing with that?” “Terribly. He’s angry at everyone and everything. He goes out every weekend, he leaves on Friday night, and shows up on Tuesday morning. And he’s drinking and smoking a lot” “Damn”, she muttered “I really thought it was weird to find him here tonight” “Yeah… Anyway I’ll try to convince him to talk to his brother” “Ok. Thank you, Jay, it really means a lot to me”, he smiled “It’s nothing. Bye, girls”, he said before winking at them and leaving.

When he joined his friends on the couch again, Heeseung wasn’t there anymore. Sunghoon was laying down, with his mouth open, REM sleeping while Ni-ki tied the korean man’s shoe’s laces in a way that Hoon would fall when he stood up. “Where is Heeseung?” “What?” “Heeseung. Where’s he?” “I have no fucking idea, bro” “Damn, Ni-ki! Is the weed destroying your neurons?” “Bro, I am not understanding anything you are saying today” “Fuck…”, Jay muttered, before leaving to try to find Heeseung. He asked at least 30 wrong people before finding the right one “Jungwoon! “Hey, Jay” “Have you seen Heeseung?” “I don’t even see him at home, man”, they were roommates, “Fuck…” “I think I saw him in the kitchen with a girl, then they disappeared”, Jay groaned. 

He knew it meant he wasn't going to hear from Heeseung till Tuesday “Ok, Woon. Thanks bro”, he poked the younger’s chest and left, Sunghoon and Ni-ki would need his help to reach home and trying to find Heeseung was pointless.

…

A week later:

Jay was at the apartment they shared with Sunghoon and Niki. The 3 of them were having a gaming night, they even invited Jungwoon and Heeseung, but none of them heard from Heeseung since last Saturday. According to Jungwoon, he didn’t spend much time at their place as well. “He went home on Monday, I guess. Then he went to work, I didn’t hear from him for 2 days, and yesterday he showed up, said he had an off day and stayed in his room all day. I went to work this morning and when I came home in the afternoon he was already not there”, Jungwoon told them, sitting on their carpet while eating popcorn.

“Are guys worried about him or is it just me?”, Sunghoon asked “Yeah!”, the rest of them answered in unison. “Yes, man. But I have a plan” “What’s it?” “Do you guys remember that girl from his art class? The one he was best friends with?”, the other 3 nodded, “You don’t even attend the same high school as us Jungwoon!”, Sunghoon pointed out, “I want to be included. Now go on, Jay” “So, I talked to her at the party we went to last weekend, and it turns out Karina lied to Heeseung all that time” “What happened?”, Niki asked, “She never said those things to his ex. Apparently Karina just didn’t like their friendship and she cut contact to avoid ruining it” “Karina didn’t like any of his friendships”, Jungwoon added “That bitch”, Sunghoon rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You have to tell him that”, Ni-ki said “Yeah, but who said I can talk to him?”, at that moment Jay’s phone buzzed:

Lee Heeseung shared his live location with you

“Oh my God, guys. It's him!”, felt like he guessed he was the subject of their conversation. “What does it say?”, Woon asked “He just sent me his location”:

Park Jongseong: ‘Need me to pick you up, bro?’

Lee Heeseung: ‘Nah, come over. Bring the guys with you’

Park Jongseong: ‘Which guys?’

Lee Heeseung: ‘Anyone you want. Just come, it's boring without you to parent me’

“He wants us to come to a club in Hongdae”, they protested, nobody is in the mood for it. “I go, you guys can stay” “No! It’s game night! It’s not gaming night without you, Jay”, Sunghoon cried, “But I have to talk to him” “Do you think it will really help him to know the truth?” “I think so, at least a little” “So you should go” “Yeah…”

Park Jongseong: ‘Omw. Will be there in 20’

28 minutes later, Jay found himself in a club, trying to avoid being pushed and humped by the people on the dancefloor. He tried to text and call Heeseung one thousand times but he wasn’t successful. It took him more than 10 minutes to find the motherfucker among a smoke of weed and 2 girls on his lap, one in which leg.  “Jongseong! Finally, man!”, Heeseung shouted so Jay could hear him over the loud music. “Same, bro! Same!”, Jay already had lost his patience, he didn’t know if it was because of the ocean of sweat and drunk people he had to face to find Heeseung or the whole past 3 months. “What’s wrong, man!? You seem stressed!” “I’m stressed!” “Why, bro!?” “I have to tell you something and you went missing the whole damn week! Where have you been, man!?” “Here and there! What do you want to tell me!?” “I'd rather do this somewhere where I don't have to shout in order for you to hear me!” “Chill out, man! At least tell me what this is about!” “Karina!”. Heeseung furrowed and his jaw tightened up, “I don’t want to know!” “Yes, you do!” “No,  I don’t! She’s past!”, Jay pressed his temple, he was already done with that son of of a bitch, ““Can you stop being a fucking brat for at least 10 minutes and listen to me?!”, Jay said with his jaw and fist clenched. “Ok, ok! Chill, bro!”. 

After Hee convinced the girls to leave his lap, he walked with Jay for the parking lot. He sat on the hood of his friend’s car and lit up another joint. He offered to Jay, but he declined “So, what’s about Karina?” “She is a freaking liar” “I know. That’s why we are not together anymore” “That’s why you’ve lost your best friend too” “What are you talking about?” “Remember when Karina said she asked her to…”, Heeseung cutted Jay, he didn’t want to remember those words. “Yeah, yeah, go on” “Apparently Karina made everything up” “How do you know?” “She said she never asked Karina anything. She also told me Karina didn’t like when you guys were friends. So she stopped talking to you cause she didnt want to ruin your relationship”. Heeseung scratched his chin, trying to find a way to attack her, "How do you know she isn’t lying too?” “You know what happened to all your friendships when you were dating her”, Jay was right, Karina didn't like any of his friends, boy or girl, she wanted him all for herself. 

He dragged again, trying to process everything Jay said, “So… it wasn’t because of Taemin?” “No! She was your best friend, man, she wouldn’t have done it to you”. Heeseung placed his hands behind his head, everything Jay said made sense, all he wanted to do was scream. “Fuck!”, he screamed repeatedly. He jumped from the hood of Jay’s car and started to walk around “Can’t fucking believe on this!” “I couldn’t either” “Damn! All of those years for nothing”, he stopped walking in a sudden, as he remembered something really important. “And she reached out for my help, bro. And I acted like an asshole!” “Yeah, but you can fix that” “How?” “Talk to your brother” “Yeah, man I thought about that”, Jay rolled his eyes, Heeseung’s sarcasm didn’t affect him anymore. The older man threw the joint on the ground and stumbled on it with his shoe. “Can you help me? I think he’s here”, “Yeah, su…”, Jay’s phone interrupted him. 

He got surprised when he checked on it, and saw her name on the screen “Hold on, it’s her”, he picked up “Hello?” “Jay? Please, help…”, he heard a sound of crashing, as her phone had been thrown on the floor “Hello? Are you still there?” “Who said you could do that shit, huh?”, he heard a masculine voice approaching her phone along footsteps “It was a mistake, nobody needs help. Bye’’, Jay’s face turned into white, as he saw a corpse. “Jay! What happened?” ”Taemin, I think he’s with her” “Fuck!”, he cursed “Stop cursing and let’s find them. I heard an echo, I think they’re in the bathroom” “Let’s go!”.

…

“Who’s that Jay, hum? Is he your new boyfriend?” “What if he is? It’s none of your business, your creep!” “Nah, nah, nah, baby girl. Don’t speak like that to me, cause I already made you happy” “It wasn’t happiness! You used me for your own pleasure when I was hopelessly in love with you!”, Taemin chuckled, and touched her chin. “Well, I guess I did. But…”, he approached her lips “I’m truly “ “Bullshit”, she spitted on his face “Ugh! That’s disgusting!”, he dried his face “Where are your manners?” “Who are you to talk about manners?! You were just rubbing your boner on my groin without my consent!” “It’s so cute when you pretend you weren’t enjoying it” “I wasn’t!” “Sure”, he caged her in between his arms, and dipped down to kiss her, but she didn’t kiss him back, of course. He pressed his erection in between her legs, holding her forearms against the wall when she tried to fight back.

That's when Jay and Heeseung came into the bathroom. Heeseung’s blood started to boil when he saw his hyung forcing her to kiss him “Lee Taemin!”, he shouted. His brother stopped kissing her and turned around “Heeseung?!” “Take your hands off her!” “Right now!”, Jay completed “Yeah, right now!”. Taemin laughed, “Or what?”, Heeseung approached him “Or I will tell dad you have been selling drugs to teenagers, he will love it” “Are you really using the ‘I’ll tell dad’ card?” “You bet I am”, the oldest man looked at her, then to his young brother “Fuck it! This bitch isn't worth it”, he took his hand out of her “If she isn't worth you can leave her alone, right?” “Whatever, man”, he slammed the door when he left the bathroom. 

At that moment, she slid her body down the wall, buried her face in her knees and started to cry. Heeseung looked at her, then to Jay, he didn’t know what to do. “Do something”, Jay mouthed “Me!?” “Yes, go!” “No! You go!”, Jay didn’t even bother answering, he just turned around and left the bathroom. Hee rolled his eyes, then squatted in front of  her and tapped her head, softly, “Hey… are you ok?”, she lifted her head and looked at him, she looked scared “Did he hurt you?” “N-no, he just forced me to kiss him and pressed his hard dick on his groin” “Fucking disgusting”, he muttered. “I was so scared he would do something more”, Hee stretched his hand and caressed her hair “It’s ok, he is not here anymore and he will not bother you again”, she leaned forward and hugged him “Thank you, Hee”, he nodded, without hugging her back. Then, he took her arms off him and stood up, “Well, I think I’m going to take some air, wanna join me?” “Ok”, he helped her stand up and took her to the parking lot.

After Heeseung called Jay and told him everything was ok and he could go back to his gaming night, they sat on the hood of her car. Heeseung got a beer on their way out of the club and she was laying down, stargazing. “Jay…”, she looked at him, “...he said you and Karina broke up”, he nodded, drinking more of his beer “He said to me you stopped talking to me because of her” “It’s true” “I thought you were an asshole for all those years. That you didn’t care about me or our friendship…”, he paused “...it was just made up”, he drank more. She sat up, “Hee, I always cared about you and our friendship, I’m sorry that I just walked away instead of talking to you, I just wanted to see you happy” “I’m sorry for not trying to understand you too, I just believed in her blindly” “It’s ok”. 

They remained silent for a few moments before he finally said something. “I missed you” “I missed you too, Hee” “I like your tattoo”, he pointed to her left thigh. She had a beautiful and majestic dragon who went from her low belly to her leg “Do you?” “Yeah. It comes to the hip?” “To the low belly” “Wow! Sick’ “Thank you! I drew it by myself” “Really?!”, she nodded “I remember when we were in high school you were very good at art class” “Yes, I miss that time” “I don’t “Really?” “Yeah. That time was hell” “Why?” “I suffered every time I was around you” “I don’t understand…” “I had a massive crush on you and you just wanted to know about my brother” “You had a crush on me!?” “Yeah” “Well, I had a crush on you too!” “What?!” “But you were always flirting with Karina, so I thought you wanted her, not me. So when Taemin started to flirt with me, I just… got hooked on him” “She was the one who flirted with me!” “But you let her” “Damn, can’t believe it. Fucking unbelievable!”, there it goes, he was losing his temper again. 

He jumped off the car’s hood and started to scream with her, “Do you have any idea of how happy we could be right now?!” “Hee…” “I’m ruined because of her! Ruined! And you!? You were almost raped in that bathroom! Fuck!”, he kicked the front tire of her Jeep. She jumped off the hood too, “Why are you so mad about it?! You were the one who got into a toxic relationship! The one who lost yourself in that damn relationship!” “Why didn’t you tell me you like me?! Why?!” “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me?!”, he didn’t say anything, she was right, it was as much his fault as hers. But she was pissed with his behavior since the last party, “I know why, cause you’re a coward!” “Shut up..”, he muttered, “You’re a fucking pussy! Your fucking loser!” “I told you to shut up!”, he screamed at her. She stepped forward, till her nose was inches from his nose “Or what? Fucking assho…”, but he didn’t let her finish, he took her lips on hers, discharging all the represed anger, all the feeling of inferiority he felt over the past years. It all turned into a ferrous, aggressive kiss. 

She felt his salty tears on her lips, maybe she had crossed the line, so she pulled away from him to apologize “I’m sorry, Hee. I didn’t mean to, I was angry and…” “Shut up” “But…” “Did you enjoy the kiss?” “Well, I didn’t have much time to savour it but…” “Can you just fucking answer me?” “Yes… I think so” “Good”, Heeseung pulled her waist to another kiss, this time he leaned her against the hood of the car, in which she laid down, melting to the kiss, enjoying all the magical tricks Heeseung was doing with his blessed tongue. She never thought he could make her feel this way. She put her fingers on his hair and pulled it, searching for some relief. He moaned into her mouth, running a hand up her thigh, pulling her dress up with it, stopping on her belly button line. He looked down to appreciate the tattoo “You’re a terrific artist” “Thanks”, he took another look at it, then rubbed her hip bone, she thrusted it up as a reflex, he smirked “I can’t fuck you in public, babygirl” “I have a car, you know?” “I am waiting for your invitation”, she smirked, then reached for her purse and car keys. She stood up, then unlocked the car and opened the backseat door “Come in”, he did, she followed, slamming the door behind her.

Heeseung threw his belongings on the seat next to him “Come here”, he tapped his lap, she took her heels off and obeyed him. He grabbed her hips and pulled it down against his boner, wanting her to feel how much a simple kiss just made him crazy. She moaned with the stimulation, “Damn, you’re already so hard”, she muttered “It hurts”, he faked a pout “Won’t you help me?”, she smirked before moving her hand to his belt, unbuckling it. Heeseung watched her open his zipper and pull his boxers just enough for freeing his hard member, she gulped when she saw it, he was bigger than she thought. He squeezed her hips lightly, “Are you ok?” “Yes, I… I’m just thinking about how sore I’m going to be tomorrow”, he smirked “You know what a man likes to hear”, she took her lips to his neck, sucking it with the goal of leaving a mark on the sensitive skin. Heeseung threw his head back, and rolled his eyes, trying to suppress the groan stuck in his throat, his cock pressed against her belly was aching, he needed some damn relief. She finally pulled away from his neck to see her masterpiece “You are going to wake up with a bruise on your neck just for you to know” “You’re a fucking temptation”, he muttered, “What are you going to do about it?”, he didn’t botter in answer, he just ran his hand down her dress and pulled her laced pantie to the side. He looked her in the eyes the whole time he got into her, her facial expressions trying to hold a moan back was priceless, when his head collided with her cervix he started to move her hips, and neither of them could keep silent anymore, soon the moans started to stood out the sound of skin colliding. The windows of the cars started to fog but it wasn't important, Hee looked at her, who had her lips nailed in her bottom lip as she moved her hips by herself, “You’re taking me so well”, he commented in between his cutted breath, “Are you calling me a whore?” “I don’t mind if you are a whore, as long as you are my whore from now on”, she changed the angle of her hips, founding  a sensitive spot, unable to speak more than just a muttered “Yes”, she whined, “Fuck, I’m cummming very very soon”  “Good girl”, he held her hips again helping her to hit the edge, and when she did, he bucked his hips up to reach his own orgasm. After he unloaded inside of her, he pulled her body against his chest and muttered against her hair, “You are mine now”

…

2 months later:

Dragons. All Heeseung could think about was dragons. Because the thing he saw the most over the past 2 months was a dragon. Her tattoo dragon. Sex was good and she treated him like her boyfriend. Safer than fuck random girls he found in parties. It didn't mean he gave up on his shallow life. He still went to parties, he still avoided his feelings and had no intention in turning what they had into something serious. Even so, during the past 2 months he got a lot better, he wasn’t angry anymore, he still went to parties, but just Friday and Saturday nights, he went home after the parties ended, he started to help Jungwoon taking care of their place, he participated of the gaming nights, he took her out to places where there was not alcohol, he didn’t even got late for work anymore. Heeseung’s friends loved her, they knew he was feeling better because of her presence and her cares, “I feel like the void inside of me is finally filled again”, he confessed to Jay once “Don’t you think this is a problem?” “Why would  it be?” “If she’s gone you will feel empty again” “She’s not leaving, bro” “How are you so sure?” “I just am” “If you say so”. But one day, everything was about to change, he just didn’t know yet. 

Heeseung had a day off work and he decided he wanted to spend it with her. He texted her a casual:

‘I need you. Come over’

And half an hour later she was there, naked on his bed, doing what they did the most. They usually had very funny and nonsense talks after sex but that time she chose a topic Heeseung didn’t like at all, “Don’t you think…”, she said while tracing lines into his chest, where she was laying on,  “What?” “...shouldn’t we like…” “Just say it, you can say anything to me” “...shouldn’t we be dating?” “Oh! Why do you think like that?” “Cause we’ve been doing this for almost 3 months already, and we kinda act like a couple but we're not a couple officially” “Why do you think we act like a couple?” “Because we do” “But… give me an example” “We go out on dates, we have sex, I know your friends and family and you know mine… Do you need a few more?”, she was right, he was getting trapped, “I don’t know, I ended a 4 year relationship 6 months ago” “Do you still love her?” “No, I don’t” “Do you love me?”, he lifted his head from the pillow “Do you love me?”, she lifted from his chest “Well, yes” “What?!”, he sat up too “Why?!” “What do you mean with why, bro? Do I need a reason to love you?” “Well, I don’t know how you can love me”, he stood from the bed, panicking, “Well, I see now”, she stood up too and started to wear her clothes, “Hold on, you don’t have to leave. We can just pretend we didn’t have this conversation, and you didn’t say you love me. There’s no need to feel embarrassed” “No. I am not embarrassed and I don’t want to pretend I didn’t say I love you. I’m not ashamed of my feelings” “Fine! Just… don’t go” “Look, Heeseung, we probably shouldn’t see each other anymore” “What?! Why?!” “You clearly need to love yourself right now and I am not wasting my time with someone who is not even aware of that”, she passed through him and grabbed her purse, “C’mon!” “Bye, Hee, figure that mess out”, then she walked out the door. Heeseung sat on his bed, still naked, feeling the hole in his chest getting voided again.

…..

2 weeks later, Heeseung felt like hitting the rock bottom. He was at a party again, leaning on the wall, holding a red cup with some shit cheap whiskey in it. His eyes burned two people across the room: Ni-ki and her.

He actually missed her and watching her getting all flirty with one of his best friends didn’t make things any easier. Ni-ki didn’t have much fault, she was the one who started a conversation and she was the one who kept touching his arm and chest whenever he said something funny, which was very often. But Ni-ki was equally blamed cause he bent to her charm, he probably was high from some herb he smoked. They were getting closer and closer, Heeseung could picture them leaning for a kiss anytime soon and for that, Jay could see smoke coming out from his ears. “What the hell are you doing, man?”, he asked, “Wondering which part of his face Ni-ki would like to be punched’ “Bro, no! You can’t do it!” “But I guess I will” “Please, don’t. Stop watching them”, but he couldn’t, he tried 3 thousand times and his eyes kept turning back to them. “Unfortunately, this isn’t an option” “Why not?” “Cause I fucking can’t, Jay! Fuck… Do you think I like it!?” “What’s the matter? You say you were happy to be completely free again” “It turns out I’m not” “What’s going on, bro?” “I miss her” “Do you?” “She made me feel… good, the best I felt the past 6 months. So,  yeah, I miss her” “And you’re going to sit here and watch her flirting with someone else?” “She wants a real relationship” “So what?” “I’m never going to date again” “Hee, I know trauma can be difficult to get over but… if you want her, you must face your fear before someone else does and you lose her forever. I know Ni-ki wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend, so stop waiting and go after her! ”. He closed his eyes, just the thought of Ni-ki and her being a couple and having them around as a couple was killing him inside, but he couldn’t be in a serious relationship, not after everything Karina did to him. He opened his eyes to tell Jay he was going to leave, but he saw Ni-ki bending down and whispering something in her ear. And worse, she giggled, then nodded, which impulsed Heeseung to stand up and walk towards them. Then, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the bathroom, ignoring all her protests. 

“What the fuck, Heeseung?!”, he didn’t say anything, “You’re being fucking ridiculous just like your brother. He did the exact same thing, forced me into a bathroom with him and did things I didn’t want to!” “Don’t compare me with Taemin. He’s a piece of shit” “You’re exactly like him, asshole. He just wanted to have fun with me, so did you!”. He was facing a window, she couldn’t see his face, so she didn’t know he was crying till he sniffed, rubbed his nose with his point and middle fingers before turning to her and saying with a weak voice “Shut up…” her furrow faded away instantly, her face relaxed, she didn’t know what was worse: his shaky voice, his swollen eyes or the sadness he was carrying in his gaze. She walked toward the Korean man “Oh, my God, Hee! Are you actually crying?” he nodded “Why!? I know I was rude, but, didn't mean to make you cry”, he didn’t say anything “Hee, talk to me…” he cleaned his throat “I…” he paused “Don’t…” “Don’t what?” “Pick him. Pick me” his voice failed again, he only had strength left to beg “Please” she frowned again “We already talked about it. If you’re not willing to take things seriously, you should let me go”, he didn’t say anything again, “Are you going to make things serious between us?”. He looked at her, she was waiting for an answer with a question mark expression printed on her face. “Fuck it” he said, grabbing her nape and pulling her for a kiss. A messy kiss cause he was a fucking big mess at the moment. He spent the last 3 hours thinking about the possibility of her lips being touched by Ni-ki’s lips and he was going crazy about it. So, yeah, he might be fucking rude in his perspective for just kissing her with roughness and without her consent, but he didn’t fucking care at that point. 

All that mattered at that moment was the grip on his hair, her jawline being cupped by his big hands, those heavenly pieces of flash moving with his, the sweet taste of her cherry lip gloss mixing the salty taste of his tears, rolling down his face, reaching their lips and being absorbed by that act of love. Then suddenly, her hands moved from his hair to the hem of his t-shirt and started to run over his bare chest. In that moment, his conscience hitted him and he broke the kiss, stepping back “I’m so sorry. I….”, she looked up at him, searching for some hope, a small sign which would show her that, yes, he was going to fight with his own demons for her, for them. He rubbed the skin of her cheek, smiled, then nodded, “I’m doing anything for you, babygirl”. She smiled at him, maybe this time, he wasn’t going to run away anymore. 

[skitskatdacat63]

All I want for Christmas isssssssssss to completely demolish your chances of winning another championship~

+

without text, and the lineart I really like:

plus some of my inspos:

and if only I wasn't a coward....

[corazondebeskar-reads]

Erika, babe. You keep writing Joel in new worlds I would never have imagined and making me fall in love with him all over again.

I say this year round but for real this grew my little Grinch heart three sizes. I saved it for Christmas, thinking it’d be a nice little reward for surviving the day. Then I passed out early and didn’t read anything 😭 but even post-holiday, this is so fucking heartwarming.

This is as much as it took for me to be hooked. Instantly fascinated.

I love his cranky ass so much.

I legit laughed out loud. This is so funny to me. santa Joel said acab

GIRL I felt this SAME WAY. he said that and my competence detector was off the hook. five alarm fire.

this hurt fr and the secondhand yearning is too much

Tim Allen could never.

I love you sm for this

… i will never look at Santa the same again.

bestie this is a work of art. better than every hallmark christmas movie.

Mr. Winter

Santa!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, marriage of convenience, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is older), yearning, fluff with light angst, grumpy but sweetheart!Joel, caregiver!Joel with slight sugar daddy!Joel vibes, brief moments of dealing with toxic family, Joel lifts reader once with his Santa strength, spicy thoughts, heavy making out, fingering, glove & finger sucking, use of “good girl,” Joel’s dirty talk & referring to himself as “old man,” one light ass smack, reader wears lingerie, Santa!kink (?), use of gendered language

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: yeah… hi lol this is heavily influenced and based off “The Santa Clause” films but you don’t need to know those to read - biggest thank you to my favorite enablers & Santa’s cutest helpers @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett ily…also happy holidays, if you’re reading this I can’t thank you enough & hope a little magic comes your way ♡ divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics

You wrote the dumb letter at the end of the semester class party. You’re thankful everyone decided to write papers instead of having a final, a grad school blessing, which meant class was done by the last week of November. Your professor even had set up the cutest Letters to Santa Station, and your friend begged you to write one with her.

So you did.

And you jokingly asked Santa for one thing - to send you a boyfriend.

Of course you know the big guy isn’t real and wouldn’t ever answer. It’s why you didn’t think much of it.

But now, if there’s any hope Santa could be real, you wonder if maybe he could just grant you one small wish…

You’re happy for your best friend, you truly are. Her wedding reception is beautiful, you just need a moment.

It finally hit you that you’re the last of your friend group not married. And as the cozy colder winter days bring in the couples closer during the slow song, you simply take a moment outside to collect yourself.

The once warmed spiked hot chocolate you’ve been enjoying now sits cold, not so festive.

Someone calls to you, says your name in a thick southern molasses smooth accent you don’t recognize.

Turning to the door, you definitely don’t know who this man is because you would have remembered someone this stunning.

Dressed down in some jeans and a sharp looking blazer, there’s almost a cowboy like air to this man. Rugged, older with lovely streaks of wrinkles and shining grey hair, a gorgeous sharp hawk nose, and dark as the deep earth eyes stare at you - he’s flat out gorgeous.

“Got your letter.” He cryptically announces, and confusion clusters in you.

This handsome stranger lifts up the overly festive candy cane colored envelope, the one you picked at the party a few days ago when you wrote your letter to Santa.

Slightly panicked, now you question who this man is.

The mystery man fidgets, painting him younger. He shifts to put his hands on his hips.

“Alright… there ain’t no easy way to put this, so imma just say it.” He starts. “I got many names… Father Christmas, Ol’ Saint Nick. Shit like that.”

Those dark unearthed eyes stare unflinching at you.

“But you can call me Joel.”

“Wait…What are you saying?” Bewilderment and skepticism bubble in your voice.

He sighs, ancient and tired, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t make me say it.” He grumbles.

“Wait are you saying you’re like, fucking Santa Claus or something?” You can’t even believe it.

His large hand moves away from his face, and the man, Joel, stays silent. The somber stillness makes this feel worse.

A disbelief filled laugh escapes you.

“Yeah okay, nice try.” You lift your drink to him, a slight mock cheers, then take a sip. It’s cold as hell and tastes bitter.

“I know it sounds fucking crazy as shit-”

“The Santa I know wouldn't cuss.” You playfully cut him off deciding to now embrace this joke.

His face grows foul, hard with a frown, not so very Kris Kringle like. With deliberate steps he moves slightly closer to you.

“Two years ago… who d’ya think dropped off that snow globe, huh?” His voice dips low, bordering a deadly seriousness, and you inhale sharp.

Two years ago, you and your mom’s favorite snow globe shattered. It felt silly getting so upset over such a strange object, but you couldn’t find a replacement anywhere.

Then after everyone had opened their gifts and family had left, you spotted a lone gift still tucked away hidden under the tree.

It was the snow globe, new and perfectly wrapped. You know you didn’t get it for your mom and the way she teared up, she didn’t get it for you. None of your other family members knew the significance of it.

“It has to be a Christmas miracle,” your mom had said. You didn’t believe it.

Now you stare a bit horrified and in shock at the man who knows about this.

Silence suffocates the air between you and him.

“Make a reindeer show up.” You blurt out.

The man, Joel, snorts dry and amused.

“Don’t need reindeer. S’a myth.” He replies low.

Your eyes narrow suspicious at him now.

“Can you make it snow?”

“M’not Jack Frost.” He scoffs offended.

“Santa always leaves snow from his boots.” You argue back.

“It’s for the dang effect.” Joel argues back.

“Can’t be Santa then.” You shrug.

He makes a disgruntled sigh of a noise. Glaring hard, he waves his hand out to the wind. Suddenly the wind blows strong, a howling gust rushing against you, so blustery you need to cover your face. When the wind stops you realize you’re lightly covered in snow.

You almost drop your not so hot chocolate.

Joel must sense your shock. He takes your drink from your hand, takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Look… came here for a reason. I think we might be able to help each other out.

He’s here with a proposition.

“I… need a wife.” He declares with a deadpan like energy.

Now you almost laugh again.

“What, did Mrs Claus divorce you?” You joke.

“Never been married.” He frowns.

Oh.

“So why now?” Curiosity peeks up in you fast.

“Legal shit.” His words don’t allow for more prying. “I’ll explain it all later. Just needed to find ya to see if we can get this done.”

“Wait, why me?”

He lifts up that damn letter again, waves it around.

“Y’said you wanted a boyfriend.” He almost sounds bored.

“This isn’t the same.” You squak, indignant.

“Look,” he now returns to that deep somber tone.

“I need this. And you’d be… compensation.” His voice shifts slightly awkwardly.

He mentions your loans, all the debt you have, and how he might be able to help out. Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets.

Commotion finally arrives at the door leading back inside.

Joel takes a sip of your drink, then hands it back to you.

“Think it over.” He says low.

The door slides open, and your other friend flings her head out.

“Hey come on! They’re cutting the cake!” She brightly exclaims, but her face scrunches up confused.

“Wait, who were you talking to?” She asks.

Your eyes flicker to the spot where Joel would be.

No one stands next to you. All that’s left is snow and the imprint of boots.

You also notice…your hot chocolate has been warmed.

-

“Santa lives here? In Austin Texas? What happened to the North Pole?” Walking behind him, you sound like a bummed out kid who just found out Santa isn’t real.

“Shit said to throw the FBI off.” Joel Miller replies bluntly, and you don’t know if he’s joking or not.

His house, rustic and cozy, holds a spacious warmth. But it feels vacant, unusually quiet for a man known to bring joy and the personification of Christmas warmth.

“So how does one become Santa?” You ask.

“Long story.” Another curt reply.

“Well, if I’m gonna be your wife shouldn’t I know these things?” Just saying the words aloud didn’t seem real.

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

The new home draws in your full attention trying to soak it all in. So many photos of two girls cover the walls and they grow right before your eyes. Curiously, you ask about them.

“They’re my daughters.” Joel answers simple.

Your eyes go wide.

He had children.

“They’re the reason why we’re here actually.” Joel adds while he moves around his cozy kitchen.

He reveals ‘Santa Claus’ is simply a title for someone to fill. It’s a hefty role. Joel was able to get away without having a spouse with his first daughter, and then again with his second. But now with her about to enter college, Joel was alone.

The stipulation to marry now stood between him and having the title stripped from him.

“Why do you even need to get married?”

“Some shit about needing companionship and other fuckin’ bullshit.” He gruffly explains.

“You could retire.” You offer.

“Don’t wanna.” He roughly replies grabbing papers out of a drawer.

“So your daughters… I’m sure they must’ve been over the moon knowing their dad was Santa.” You try breaking the ice more.

Placing a pen on the table, Joel sighs.

“Look, we don’t gotta do this.” He snaps tight. “This small talk and shit. The sooner we can get this signed and started, the sooner we can get this over with.”

His words sting, becoming sharp barbs that dig in deep.

“Fine.” You grab the pen ready to sign whatever the hell this guy has for you.

A back door opens, and commotion follows. A handsome younger man, with the same dark eyes like Joel that instead sparkle, walks into the kitchen from the garage. Following him are two much older gentleman, one with kind eyes and the other with a glare that could whither a field

“Well now, is this the soon to be Mrs Joel Miller?” The youngest of the bunch says bright and sunny.

Joel introduces you to his brother, Tommy, who is an exact opposite to his sour puss older sibling. Frank, an old family friend, is here to officiate the ceremony. His husband, Bill, would be the other witnesses besides Tommy. Frank and Tommy are thankfully sweet, obviously curious about you.

“Can we get this fuckin’ done with?” Joel snaps.

Now your annoyance triples, and you’re thankful Tommy and Frank chide Joel. Bill snorts amused.

But wanting to leave now too, you’re quick to agree to start the ceremony.

It’s done short and simple in the kitchen - Frank asking you and Joel to take each other as husband and wife. You agree briskly. Joel just nods. There’s not even an exchange of rings, or a kiss to conclude the ceremony.

Joel simply sticks his hand out, a damn handshake becomes your official agreement, your binding wedding vow.

You maybe should have read over the marriage agreement more, could have been smarter and brought a lawyer, even one that might have believed you. But you’re pissed. You simply sign the papers, let Frank go over the documentation, then gather your things.

“Wait, you ain’t gonna stay for lunch?” Joel suddenly questions seeing you get up to leave.

“We got this over with, didn't we, husband? That’s all you wanted right?” Your words are clipped, polite but sharp, that they even sting you.

You apologize to Tommy and Frank for meeting like this. Yet you don’t say another word to your new husband who feels more of a stranger than ever.

-

When you get back to your mom’s place a new sticky note sits on your night stand.

Sorry about today, let me make it up to you.

-J

Underneath is his phone number.

Guess he’s showing off the very classic Santa trick of slipping into houses without anyone noticing he pulled off a breaking and entering.

He answers on the second ring when you call.

“I got Santa’s personal number?” You offer with a gentle treading tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel huffs.

It eases the tension. But hesitation still brews thick, an awkwardness of trying to talk to a stranger who just so happens to be your new husband.

“Uh, shit…Sorry about earlier. Didn’t end up eating lunch. You up for a bite to eat? I'll pay?” His voice is open, letting you decide.

Agreeing, he shows up to your door in record timing.

“Is this traveling fast a Santa thing? How can you travel so fast?” Your curiosity gets the best of you.

Joel simply smirks, not answering, but the silence dances playful now.

He takes you to a cozy barbecue spot on the lake. The Texas winter makes the days crisp, almost stuck between autumn and full blown winter. But in the midday sun, it's rather lovely.

“I’m surprised you’re not busy with everything coming up.” You’re trying stepping into the conversation as eased and natural as possible.

“If I’m tryin’ to scramble to get shit done by now, then I ain’t doing my job right.” He says taking a sip of his beer, and his words ignite a burst of heat in you.

It's attractive… he’s attractive. You can’t deny that.

Lunch is surprisingly casual, relaxed. Joel asks about grad school and about your major, asks about your family. It vaguely feels like a regular first date.

However this is treading the waters between you and him and this strange new circumstance.

This situation has been gnawing at you. Anxiously, you wonder if he judges you for agreeing so quickly, for jumping in because of the money.

“Hey,” it's like he senses your quiet already.

“You still don’t gotta do this. I can head back home right now, rip up those papers and start again.” A sincere tone, gilded in understanding, rings in his voice.

He’s giving you a way out. You shake your head.

You want to see this as something good. So raising your drink up, it’s another cheers to him. This time Joel moves to toast you with his beer.

“I’d call this the strangest wedding reception ever but hey, I’ll take it.” Joel nods. His mountainous shoulders drop seemingly relaxed more.

You laugh, and for the first time, it feels like you’re sitting across a new friend now… who just happens to be your husband.

-

You and Joel start texting. It’s still a bit awkward, and he’s a dry texter which doesn’t help. You get tempted to send him Santa memes, but you’re not sure you can joke with him more.

You check your loans. They’re still there looming like a thick unmovable sludge. So he hasn’t paid it off yet.

Reality and acceptance settles in. This man, the embodiment of Christmas joy, is just that busy even though he said he wasn’t.

At least you helped, or maybe unknowingly sold your soul away and just don’t know it yet. Whatever it is, you slip back into your regular routine and head back to your mom’s.

Pulling up an unknown older red truck sits in front of the house, and you wonder who’s its owner.

Walking inside your mom announces she’s in the kitchen. Tools scattered along the table are a reliving sight. So it’s just the plumber she finally called.

“You didn’t tell me the guy you were seeing is a handy man.” Your mom whispers excitedly.

As if on cue Joel struts out from the bathroom looking something straight from a hallmark movie. The green plaid shirt he wears compliments him beautifully, and it’s hard not to stare at him and his delicious broad ass shoulders.

“Hey.” He greets with a half smirk.

“Was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by and see if ya wanted to get dinner tonight. Then I remembered you telling me about your mom’s sink.”

You mentioned that during your first lunch with him. How did he remember?

Something soft, swirling with longing, fills your chest, and you try swallowing it back. As thanks, your mom happily suggests Joel joining for dinner here, and panic strikes you fast.

Joel grins bigger seeing you scramble to dissuade him. Of course he agrees.

You never would have guessed Joel ‘prickly as a Christmas cactus’ Miller is a charmer. He even pays for takeout much to your mother’s surprise.

“Didn’t know he was so much…older.” She hesitantly comments when he leaves.

“It’s been nice dating someone more mature.” You half lie. You aren’t ready to tell her the guy is your husband.

Later you text him thanks for fixing the sink and for dinner.

What are husbands for? He replies back.

And you really wish you knew.

-

You’ve wanted to go see the trail of lights, but with your mom working late for the holidays and your friends out of town, you consider making the trip alone.

Until your phone rings.

Joel has now started calling you, simply to chat, ask about how your day is, even just to check up on you. It makes your heart jump.

“Whatcha up to?” His voice rumbles deep and wonderful over the phone.

“Wanted to go to the trail of lights but might skip. No one wants to go.” You sigh.

“I’ll go.” He quickly replies, and your head spins.

If you thought Joel in plaid was a deadly force, him in a thick winter brown coat that highlights his strong frame is an utter sight.

The array of candy colored lights coat the world in a beautiful celestial dream. You’re thankful it’s not busy tonight.

“I’ve always loved Christmas lights.” You admit. It’s one of your favorite parts of being back home.

Surprisingly, he curiously asks about you more, what brought you back home. You of course tell him the truth. Out of state college got too expensive in undergrad, and now going to grad school expenses started piling up.

“So I’m back home.” You simply shrug.

“Ain’t no shame in it.”

You beam at his earnest words.

“Y’know, I haven’t been here in so long.” Joel admits. “Used to come here with the girls all the time when they were little.”

Wanting to embrace this tiny step he’s taking, you ask what they’re like. A soft look, one molten and fatherly, blooms over his face. It suits him, like he was born to be a dad in any lifetime.

Sarah is his eldest, a sweetheart going to school to be a journalist. He had her when was young, way too young, and her mother wasn’t big on wanting to raise a kid at that age.

“So it was just the two of you?” You softly ask.

“Yup, until our Ellie came along.” He nods while another soft grin tugs at his lips.

He tells you Ellie is adopted.

“S’actually a wild story.” Joel begins. “Found her during a run.”

A run, you learn quickly, is when he’s out on Christmas Eve.

“Newborn baby crying on the edge of the fire station. It was freezing as shit that night. Couldn’t just leave her there.” He mutters lost in the memory.

You and him have slowed your walk, now almost glued to each other side by side.

“Was a goddamn miracle.” He adds nodding.

“That’s beautiful, Joel.” You admire, meaning your words.

He goes on telling you Ellie’s already working in her last year of high school, ready to move out, be on her own, ready to start college.

“So I bet when they were kids they were thrilled to know their dad was… who you are.” You state with a warm grin.

Joel barks hollow.

“Couldn’t even threaten them with the naughty list deal. To them I’ll always be dad.” His voice twinkles, it’s like peeling away at the rough exterior to realize Joel is just an extra toasty marshmallow.

He’s still so warm and soft on the inside.

“Can I ask… how did it happen?” You’re worried he’s going to shut you out like he did last time.

But a heavy exhale leaves him. And he tells you…

About a night driving home during the bad snow storm that came many years ago. He stopped to help this man on the side of the road, who he assumed was a mall Santa that had gotten into an accident.

“Instead it was the real fucking deal.”

After that, the previous holder of the title passed away, leaving Joel to take up the mantle.

“Had to say yes,” he says with a shrug. “Even at five years old Sarah was bossin’ me around, telling me I had to…. Haven’t regretted it since.”

Iridescent adoration swallows your body whole begging you to embrace Joel Miller wholly.

“It’s wonderful. It’s brought you so many amazing things,” You can’t even hide your admiration anymore, don’t want to. You don’t want to fight this. You’d be his real fake wife for long as he would let you.

Joel’s face turns to you. His eyes glance straight into your very being, the lights dance among his endless earthen eyes. You want to get lost in the twinkle, already hating how badly you feel drawn to this man.

You try taking in every ounce of Joel here under the cloak of lights. He’s a dream, this fake husband of yours, one that feels like you’re simply allowed to admire but never touch.

Being this close to him, your eyes unfortunately drift to his lips. How bad would it be to kiss this man?

There’s plenty of songs about kissing Santa Claus. Would you simply not be embracing the holiday spirit?

A distant car horn honks and causes you to jump, breaking the hypnotic spell Joel has cast on you. Walking out, sadly heading home, you finally notice something.

It could be the shade of the lights, but the greys in Joel’s beard are starting to appear white.

-

The week before Christmas is a chaotic cluster. So much cleaning and shopping, you want to scream. Joel calls you while you’re braving the mall.

“You sound exhausted, honey.” He says, and the pet name isn’t lost on you.

But it is lost on your rant though. You’re exhausted from trying to find these specific dang muffins your grandmother only refuses to eat while also trying to find a gift for your cousins.

“Gift cards are a lifesaver for a reason.” He comments casually.

“You grant Christmas wishes for a living, and that’s your answer.” You snort.

“I’ve delivered my share of ‘em, so hell yeah they are.”

Even in the mess of the mall’s chaos you laugh. In such a short amount of time, Joel’s presence in your life has solidified steady, unwavering, like he’s always been here. Long chats on drives home, him dropping by with groceries to deliver, it all unfolds so natural. You’re even heading over tonight to have dinner with him and his brother Tommy.

Once you’re back in the car, you notice a new bag sitting in the backseat.

Reacting in you discover not only the damn elusive dinner rolls you’ve been searching for, but a pack of gift cards.

A sticky note sits on top of them.

Don’t hate the gift card

-J

You blame the Yuletide spirit in the air, but your heart soars. It’s like you’ve been swept into a Christmas special. But, you’re waiting for the bad ending to come.

These feelings for Joel have only multiplied, taking root deeper in your heart. The sugared admiration for him now grows fangs becoming a dazed lust. You’ve had dreams of him sweaty and golden above you in bed. You ache to know what he sounds like, to know the feeling of him inside you, to get drunk on his taste.

Heading over to Joel’s you kick away those dangerous thoughts you have for your husband.

A sweet woman answers the door, who introduces herself as Maria, Tommy’s wife.

“Nice to finally meet Joel’s not so secret, secret wife.” She grins. Guess that meant she knew the secret too.

She knows more than you even do as she guides you out back. The shed sitting in the corner of the backyard is unassuming. Yet when you step inside, a full workshop, the size of a Costco, stands glimmering before you.

“It never gets old.” Maria whispers, sensing your stunned awe.

Joel finally steps into view, and you’re taken back. The white among his beard sits stronger. He’s in more comfortable clothes and the gray sweatpants are sinful on him. The sight of his strong arms, his tummy through his tight white shirt, all make you think of biting into his skin -

You yank yourself out of the feral thoughts. Especially when Joel spots you. He blinks, just as stunned as you are.

“Hey, sorry. Got shit tied up here. Y’don’t gotta stay, might not be done until... fuck I don’t even know when.” He sighs, running a hand across his face.

“Can I help?” You blurt out.

Joel blinks at you, almost like he didn’t hear what you said and even squints a bit making him as old as he is.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask again.

Joel swallows. “You don’t, fuck...Ya don’t have to.”

You want to and determinedly tell him that.

His eyes widened like you just grew two heads. He recovers swiftly, nodding as he calls Tommy over. The younger Miller brother sees you and winks.

“Come on newbie, let’s getcha set up.”

You, Maria and Tommy are in charge of bulk orders making sure each package has the right amount and ready to be delivered.

“Does he… really have a list?” You ask with a whisper.

“Checks it twice too.” Tommy cheekily replies, and you laugh bubbling with disbelief, but apologize quickly.

“S’all good, trust me it took me a while to realize it’s real. But it’s something damn special once you do.”

You fully agree.

The night is long, but you don’t notice it. You get into a grove and get excited when Maria shows you some of the orders, children getting bikes, someone getting a new pair of shoes. It fills you with something luminous you can’t fully describe.

It’s a reward in itself when you finish a large order and high five Maria and Tommy.

“Well now, we finally get to meet the new Mrs. Joel Miller.” A new voice, smooth but curious, breaks the moment.

Behind you stand a small cluster of older men. You don’t know how, but you just know they’re all previous holders of the title of Father Christmas. It’s only confirmed when Tommy whispers it sharp to you. So these retired men were the ones pestering Joel.

“They usually drop by to do audits, checks and things, didn’t know they would be here this late.” Maria adds low.

“We’ve been wanting to stop by and give our congratulations, but Joel has been so keen on keeping you all to himself.” One of the older gentlemen winks.

You politely smile.

“You’re rather young.” Another man comments.

“Way too pretty for a grouch like Miller.” One, with a thick accent, teases with a grin.

Joel suddenly, as if summoned, comes rushing out from the side and immediately slides in front of you, a protective barrier.

“You’re running a bit behind schedule.” The snarkiest of the men comments to Joel. “Guess the new wife really has been keeping you away.”

Your face scrunches up pissed now, until Joel’s hand moves to hold yours, squeezing it tight.

“He even has you helping, dear?” One of the quieter men asks you, concerned.

“I’m happy to help.” You truthfully answer steady and firm.

You want to be a part of this as much as Joel allows. Not just because you’re his paper wife, but because you care for him.

All of the previous Santas now seem to survey you, practically staring straight into your soul.

“If you gentlemen are done harassing my wife I suggest y’all fuckin’ head home.” Joel barks sharp.

One of them scoffs at this reply.

The main leader of the group glances at you then back to Joel.

“You picked a good one, Joel.” He smiles with a chuckle.

“You take care of this grouch now, pretty lady.” The sweetest of the men beams at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“Get out.” Joel snaps cold, holding your hand tighter than ever.

In a blink, they’re before you, and the next, they’re gone, vanished into the wind.

Your legs feel like they’re about to give out, and you have to lean against Joel who sighs with the same relief.

In the rush, you swear you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. Tommy and Maria greet you proud. You return back to your station, back to helping.

Until you realize it’s past 1 in the morning, and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Hey, crash here for the night.” Joel appears besides you, steadying your arm.

“I’ll be fine, I can drive home.” You reassure him through an unconvincing yawn.

“No. You don’t need to. S’cold as hell out there, just stay here.” He urges, and you don’t want to fight him.

So you’re given the guest room and a spare change of clothes, which include an oversized UT Longhorns shirt and sweats, both obviously Joel’s.

Sliding his shirt on, your heart races. The exhaustion, you blame it on the exhaustion, when you pull his shirt up to inhale deeply. The smell is soft, comforting, a mixture of his cologne and something purely musk, purely Joel.

You wonder how bad it would be to touch yourself in his guest room. Glancing out the door to see if you’re alone, that’s when you catch a glimpse of Joel down the hall.

Busy looking at his phone, he’s shirtless and a decadent sight. You fully take in his solid build, the look of a man. His sweatpants have slung lower, revealing the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock. The pudge of his belly is beautiful.

He’s beautiful, and you want him more than anything.

The next morning he’s gone, already hard at work. You enjoy breakfast with Maria and Tommy who you already adore even more.

“Don’t be a stranger now, it’s nice to have a new face around. Plus Joel can’t stop talking about you.” Maria’s words almost make you spit out your tea.

Tommy snickers at your reaction.

Driving back to your mom’s, you already miss the chaos of the Miller household. Arriving home, your heart sinks seeing your relatives have arrived early.

“Oh, back from staying over at a guy’s house? Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend that stays around long enough.” Even though your Aunt is trying to be teasing, you already wish she could leave.

“I think he’s a keeper. He’s older too.” You mom explains with a slow whisper, and you send her a look.

Everyone unfortunately perks up at that.

“Really? Well, you know what they say, you should always question why a man doesn’t date a woman his age.” Your Aunt, with such a judgmental tone, tries to sound sincere but it slices you deep.

“It’s not like that.” You reply feeling a new sense of dread crawl in you.

“Is it a sugar daddy situation?” Your cousin jokes, and it gets too much.

You laugh bitter, fake, then head back to your room. You wish more than ever to crawl back to Joel’s.

Back in your room, something new sits waiting for you on your nightstand.

A flower, your favorite, in full bloom has a note tied to it.

Thanks for all the help

This time Joel signs his name with a little scribbled heart.

You cherish it more than gold.

-

“I…won’t be available these new few days.” Joel reveals, almost sounds guilty.

It’s the first time you’ve finally gotten the chance to talk with him free from curious family members trying to eavesdrop.

Here in the dead of night, your heart aches for him.

“I know, kinda figured.” You grin.

He chuckles.

Suddenly a selfish thought tugs at you.

The image has been plaguing you more and more. Does dress up in full Santa gear? He has to, right?

“So do you…fully wear the whole thing? The red suit? White hat?” You ask, waiting for the answer.

“…if I say yes, are ya gonna divorce me?” Joel replies gruff.

You laugh but rush to quiet down trying not to wake anyone. But you reassure him there's no need for divorce.

“Just… kinda wish I could see it.” You admit, feeling greedy wanting to witness the sight.

Joel stays quiet.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters.

“Yeah…” maybe one day.

“Stay safe out there.” You tell him when you hear him yawning more. “And get all the rest you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He drawls, and you melt.

You don’t hear from him after that.

You deal with more annoying family members. Enjoy some delicious cozy food. All while missing Joel.

Waking up Christmas Eve morning, you see an email.

All your loans are paid in full. It wasn’t just your loans, but your mother’s. Completely debt free - both of you. She cries. You even get teary eyed.

One of your uncles makes a dumb joke about it maybe being a mistake.

“It’s a blessing,” your mom says, grateful.

“No, it’s a gift from Santa.” You beam, knowing no one would believe you.

However, a new fear starts morphing in you.

What did this mean for you and Joel? Is the contract completed? Is this over? Was it only to say he had a wife on paper, parade you as proof, then… never speak to him again?

The questions pester and haunt you the entire rest of the day.

Then night creeps in.

“You wanna leave cookies out for Santa?” Your mom jokes seeing you grab a plate.

“Maybe, but I think I might leave out a beer too.” You reply and she laughs.

Once everyone heads to bed and leaves back to their hotels, you sneak into the living room.

Never in your life would you have imagined ever needing to wait up to see Santa. Much less as a full adult.

And it proves to be a true test of endurance. You doze off a few times but quickly snap your eyes open, worried you’ll miss him.

Checking the time, it’s almost midnight. Of all the nights you want to stay up, fighting asleep is harder than ever.

You don’t even realize your eyes have closed until the softest graze of fingers against your cheek wakes you.

Panicked, scrambling awake, you snap your eyes open and whisper Joel’s name.

Finally blinking into focus, there’s no sign of anyone here.

“Y’left out a beer for me?”

Until the softest smoothest thick accent floats out into the quiet of your living room. You left the tv on, and the light of it blends with the glow from the Christmas tree. It bathes Joel in something sublime.

No classic Santa hat sits on his head, but the way his hair is scruffy and flat, he must have been wearing it before.

But the sight of him in the crimson suit, the soft white fur lined edges of the coat, how bulky and strong he looks… You’re reminded of a rugged cowboy Santa.

It all ignites a wildfire, and now you’re wide awake scrambling out of the blankets to get to him.

Not thinking, almost possessed by some ghost of Christmas present, you rush forward and embrace him. His body, sturdy and solid, radiates a warmth that encompasses you.

“What are ya doing up?” He whispers low while you clutch onto him. You need to touch him with your own hands, feel he’s real. You also don’t miss the gloved hands against your hips.

“Had to see you.” You croak out.

You pull back to look at him.

Finally, you take him in. It’s Joel, the same grumpy Joel that’s changed the oil for your car, who has a soft spot for the stray cats in his neighborhood, and is an amazing father - but it all collides with the truth of who he really is.

A watery laugh comes out of you and you hate that immediately you’re blinking away tears.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joel immediately asks worried, letting his hands move to rest on your arms, a comforting presence.

You reassure him it’s nothing, trying to wave this reaction off.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong or else Christmas stops and it’ll all be your fault.” His tone is somber, but you sense the tease, a classic Joel joke among his words.

Shaking your head, you wipe away more tears frustrated at your reaction. Then his hand, gloved but striking in size, cradles your face, and he gently strokes your cheek. Joel turns your face to him.

“Talk to me, honey please.”

You don’t know how to express everything that’s in your heart. It all feels too much - the conflict of realizing where you stand with him, the doubt that brews wondering if he even holds the same affection for you.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You admit weakly.

It’s that you can muster out, all that you can do to sum up the bundle of emotions storming in your heart.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow. His mouth drops a bit. In the low light, the shadows on his face deepen like caverns aging him beautifully.

“M’not going anywhere. You won’t lose me.” He reassures, even squeezing your face soft.

Those endless eyes that normally stare so direct and with such a magnetic force, now flicker away almost boyish and shy.

“I’m the one afraid of losin’ you.” He mutters, like he’s admitting it more to himself.

His words unwrap your heart releasing so many emotions.

“Joel.” You whisper, a bit hesitant, and his gaze draws back to you.

He seems closer now, his coal-like eyes brewing something untouchable. Silence, a soft shift settles, you taking him in, and him doing the same for you.

You don’t know who moves first. But in a blink his lips descend onto yours.

His mustache tickles. His lips hold a hint of something sweet sugary, indulgent, or you wonder if that’s just Joel.

Strong gloved hands clutch onto you holding your tighter against his frame. He tilts your head, allowing him to kiss you deeper, and your mouth willingly opens begging for more of him.

It isn’t lost on you that you’re kissing Santa Claus, like a cheesy holiday song. But it’s the fact that you’re kissing Joel Miller that melts everything away.

Your fingers find his hair, running through his soft gray locks you’ve dreamed about. Joel groans, and you already want more.

With ease, he lifts you up with one arm and you squeak into his mouth. His chuckle vibrates against your lips, ticklish, until he starts to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the path of your skin.

You sigh, closing your eyes and drawing him closer when he places you back on the couch. Your legs curl against his waist, locking him in as you try molding into him, with him, as much as you can.

His lips find yours again, this time there’s a fevered edge to them. His tongue is messy, licking into your mouth desperate. You moan when he sucks on your tongue.

A blazing hunger takes over making your hips grind against him. Feeling his gloved hands slide up your legs, you whine digging into him harder.

Until he suddenly rips himself away, leaving you feeling empty missing his warmth and body against you.

“Shit…Really gotta go, honey. I can’t say.” Joel sighs. His heavy breathing, the tightness of his jaw, this is as hard for him as it is for you.

“Can’t you be a little late?” You softly question rising back up to kiss up his scruffy beard.

He groans when you softly kitten lick at his upper lip.

“Fuckin’ naughty little thing.” Joel growls.

You softly kiss his lips again.

“Guess that means I’m on the naughty list huh?” The joke slips out, and you already want to hide after hearing yourself.

Joel groans, but this time it’s ripe with embarrassment. You hide your face while he snickers.

“That was bad.”

“I know,” you agree mortified.

Even in your embarrassment, Joel presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and every worry melts away.

He stands up, pulling you gently up with him. Gathering you into his arms, this time Joel feels larger than life but also closer than ever, like he’s stitched inside your heart now.

“When will I see you again?” You hate how badly you miss him already.

“Soon, I promise.” He reassures rubbing your back softly, and you nod back.

His hand moves to hold your face again, gently, like you’re a precious treasure.

And you think he might be yours.

Joel kisses you, the softest sweetest press of his lips that melts into your bones. And when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

All that’s left are the faintest hints of snow flurries on your living room floor…

And of course he made sure to take his beer.

-

When Joel said he’d see you soon, you didn’t think it would be the next morning, Christmas morning.

Softly a hand brushes against your face, slowly waking you. You find yourself back in your bedroom. The soft glow of the winter morning spreads a gentle light that covers your room.

Joel is here, kneeling beside your bed, and immediately you turn towards him.

In this light, his greys look softer, thicker in their shade, like beautiful white streams run from his temples. And his beard looks as if snow flurries have been peppered in more. The red velvet of his suit looks brighter. Your fingers run across the fabric, across his shoulders.

You whisper his name, yet a sadness creeps in again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Are you okay… with us?” It’s a stumbled way to ask, but it’s all you can get out.

Is he okay that you’re much younger than him?

“Yeah, of course.” He nods.

“Actually, Ellie and Sarah were the ones who told me to go for it.” He admits fondly, sleepily.

“They said I needed to be selfish for once, let myself have this…”

His eyes watch you as you sit up to reach him.

“Is that why you were so cold when we first met?” You ask.

Joel nods, sighing.

“Felt awful knowing I was doing this to you, someone so dang young, so fuckin’ beautiful. Hated that you were stuck with a mess of ‘n old man like me.”

“I’d pick you everytime.” The words escape fast. You can’t even stop them.

Instantly he swoops in kissing you with an unchained passion that makes you dizzy.

Immediately you tug at him, begging him to crawl onto the bed. You sigh in bliss when he does, making your mattress creak ever slightly with his glorious solid frame.

His kisses are drenched in a poison intoxicating you.

Clutching onto Joel’s shoulders, you lift your hips when his gloved hands tug at your pj pants.

That’s when you hear the faint laughter of everyone downstairs awake. You freeze. Joel senses your hesitation. That gorgeous nose of his nuzzles against your jaw breathing in the scent of you.

“Y’gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” His thick low voice is all you need because you’re nodding yanking at his shoulders to kiss him again.

This kiss dances along the edge of something fierce and wild, like you’re trying to contain it, hold it back before it spreads and someone hears.

Until Joel’s gloved fingers slip inside your wet heat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to hold back a moan. Feeling his black leather glove inside you has your eyes roll back. Then when you rest your head against the soft fur lining of his coat, it creates such a dizzying sensation you want to get lost in.

“Oh fuck.” He drawls, hoarse.

His fingers pump in and out of you, and the squelch of your wetness sounds downright obscene now. Joel revels in it.

“Letting this ol’ man winter fuck ya while everyone’s down stairs waiting…Y’like that baby?”

You whimper, nodding, clutching onto him harder trying so hard to keep quiet. Then he removes them from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

Until he draws his gloved fingers, shining and coat in your arousal, up to your lips.

“Can ya clean ‘em off for me?” He mutters.

Without hesitation you pull them into your mouth and suck, letting your tongue wiggle across the leather. You moan tasting this union of you and the leather.

“Shit,” Joel croaks like he got punched in the gut.

Quickly he yanks his hand out from your mouth, rips his gloves off and kisses you feverish.

“Need to feel ya.” He sounds drunk as you feel, even more when his bare fingers thick and warm slip into you again.

He makes you come so fast it knocks you breathless, feeling hot even with the cooler temperature in the room. You whisper begging him to fuck you, to take you here before he heads home -

“Can’t darlin’, but soon I will. I promise.” He reassures you kissing your lips over and over.

“And Santa always keeps his promises, yeah?”

That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is. You greedily kiss him, trying to devour him even more.

“Jesus,” he growls, his accent thicker than ever. “Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to leave.”

“Then don’t.” You beg.

But then the voices downstairs get louder, and the smell of food warming up floats in.

Joel sighs deflated. You know this is the end for now.

Rubbing his wonderful nose against yours, you lean to press your forehead to his. He breathes out your name, and it sounds like a blessing.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” He whispers softly to you.

A knock comes at your door, and in a panic you drag your blanket up around you.

“You awake yet?” Your mom jokingly asks.

You definitely are now. Of course Joel has vanished.

But something tickles the top of your head. Bundles of mistletoe, twisted among so many lovely ribbons, bloom all along your bed frame.

-

One Christmas Later

“Did I ever show you the shirt Ellie and Sarah sent me last week?” You ask, and Joel, half paying attention, hums.

He pulls his attention away from the Dallas Cowboys game long enough to glance at your phone.

The shirt reads - Mrs Claus but Married to the Grinch

He rolls his eyes, not finding it as amusing as his daughters did.

“Or what about this one.” You show him the next option.

This one, in bright gold lettering, says - Santa’s Sexy Girlfriend

“No.” He flat out pushes the phone away making you laugh and lean against his strong shoulder.

This would be the last night before he heads out on his run. This will also be the first night you get to see him leave, and the first night you’ll get to wait for him now living at his home.

The memories and days that have brought you here are strung up in your heart, luminous multi colored tinsel you never want to take down.

“It’s actually one of the first years we’re ahead of schedule,” Tommy says when you greet him back at the workshop.

“That wife of yours is really something.” Though Tommy talks directly to his brother he makes sure to wink at you.

You’re grateful you got to help out more this year, even enjoyed having Ellie and Sarah around when they came by to visit. But with Ellie now enjoying time with the girl she desperately has a crush on, and Sarah taking the day to spend time with her new boyfriend, it really would just be you and Joel.

A delicious heat crawls in you knowing what you had waiting for him.

But you almost forget about it when you start helping Joel get dressed.

Your throat dries seeing him buckle up his crimson pants, then helping him slide his thick coat on and how broad it accentuates his shoulders…

“You keep lookin’ at me like we’re gonna get behind schedule.” Joel mutters sinful.

“We’re ahead of schedule. We could…mess around for a bit.” You offer light.

“No, being ahead means I can come home earlier.” He very playfully and lightly smacks your ass.

You hate when he’s right.

With a kiss goodbye you send him off returning to the quiet home. You’ll have a day and a half before Joel officially returns. So you spend your time binging multiple movies.

You’re also thankful for the stash of extra cookies you finally found. Joel ‘I ain’t got a sweet tooth’ Miller isn’t so slick with his hiding spots.

The film your best friend recommended is cheesy. But during the scene where the main love interest comes to interrupt the engagement party to announce he loves the bride, cause you to pause.

In theory, you are Joel’s wife. Your mom even jokes that she practically has the most perfect unofficial son in law, if only if she knew the truth. Yet, you don’t have a ring, don’t even use Miller as your last name.

It’s silly, you tell yourself and try not to think about it too much.

So you instead enjoy more cozy snacks and the rare bits of snow Austin is getting this time of year. It’s magical, paints the world like something straight from a Thomas Kinkade dream.

The morning comes when Joel will be home, and you sit waiting on the bed. Don’t even mind you work up early for this.

Earlier confidence surged in you when you slipped into the gorgeous lingerie set. Now it itches on your skin as you sit worried. The bow sitting on your bra might be too much. You almost bought the cute risqué Santa nightgown, but you hesitated.

You didn’t feel like you could truly even joke about being Mrs Claus when you didn't even fully consider yourself Mrs Miller.

“Honey?” Joel announces stepping into the house, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“In here!” You yell back.

Waiting on the bed feels like an eternity passes before Joel opens the door. There’s still snow on his shoulders. His hair is starting to grow out more so it curls around his ears. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

Then his face falls and his eyes become full moons taking in the sight of you before him.

“Oh baby,” he whispers like he can’t believe his eyes.

You grin sleepy.

With eased measured steps Joel walks forward, and you’re reminded of a hunter trying to approach his prey.

He drags his fingers, ungloved, warm and callous from all the hard work he does, up your exposed skin leaving a trial of heat in their wake.

“Can I unwrap my present?” He mutters, allowing his fingers to drift with. Delicate touch across the top of your breast barely kept in by the lace covered bra.

“Yeah, Joel please.” You sigh, closing your eyes when his large hand suddenly grasps, squeezing your breast.

The poor lingerie doesn’t make it out alive.

Now you drift in and out of sleep, naked in his arms. Joel kisses your forehead promising he’ll buy you as many new sets as you want.

“Merry Christmas to both of us.” You dryly joke.

He laughs, but it sounds a bit weak, more like a cough.

“Uh, speaking of Christmas gift… y’want yours now or later when we wake up?”

That makes you bolt up fast from his arms.

“I told you not to get me anything, Miller.” You protest, glaring at him.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me of all people not to get you something?” He scoffs.

“Then I don’t want it.” You stubbornly pout back.

“Alrighty then, I’ll return it tomorrow.” Sleepily he shrugs and turns on his side giving you full sight of his glorious sun kissed bare back. You try not to linger on the scratch marks you left behind.

Now you persistently tell him to give it to you.

“Sounds like what you were saying a few minutes ago.” He teases with a smirk glancing over to you from his shoulder.

Now you roll your eyes.

“Give me the gift Miller, or else.” You shake his shoulder trying to sound somber like Joel himself, but a smile tugs at your lips.

Dramatically, he groans sitting up.

“Making an old man like me get up after the long ass night I had.” He says reaching over to his nightstand.

“Oh please, if I asked you to go another round you would.” You scoff.

“You wanna?” He asks with a curious mutter, and you shove his shoulder again playful.

“Fine, fine.” Joel grumbles.

After reaching under the bed, he returns back with a box…covered in dinosaur wrapping paper.

“Look, it was the only one I had left over here.” He explains seeing your confusion.

“Joel, you work at a magical workshop where there's an endless supply of cute Christmas wrapping paper. Why didn’t you grab some?!” You laugh.

“Didn’t wanna mess up the inventory.” He huffs, grumpy and classically Joel.

“You gonna open it or am I gonna have to hide it again?”

At his words you greedily rip off the paper.

You guess by the size it looked like a shoe box and it is, a familiar box you thought you threw away. Now you’re confused.

Opening it, inside is an even smaller box. This one is classically wrapped in green and red with a shining bow on top.

But when you pick it up, you discover the tiny box is heavy. There’s also a latch at the back begging for you to lift and open.

Inside sits a ring, dancing with a shimmering sparkle.

You already fight back the tears.

Is this what you think it is?

Whipping your face to Joel he seems hesitant, worried, while he keeps his focus on you.

“I know we might’ve done this backwards but…” he reaches for the ring, gingerly pulling it out.

“Wanna make it official now.”

You inhale sharp.

“Honey I’ll get down on one knee if you want, but might take me a while to get back up…” he jokes, but the edge of his voice is watery, shaky, like he’s the one barely holding on.

“But…will you marry me again-”

You don’t even let him finish before you rush to kiss him. The tears come, fast and free like a wave, but they’re beautiful. You embrace it all.

Joel slides the ring in your finger. The weight of the beautiful metal feels wonderful against your skin, but you don’t notice it. Not when you’re swept up in making love to your Joel, your fiancé.

The love bursting through your heart could swallow you whole and you would let it.

“I love you,” he admits against your skin, breathing out like he’s finally found a moment of rest.

“I love you too.” You rub his back soaking in the bliss among the sweat and heat of his body against yours.

It’s just you and your Mr Claus.

“I’m glad Santa granted my wish.” You mutter dreamy, not caring how embarrassing you sound.

That is until Joel lifts his head up, those wonderful eyes of his shine brighter than any northern star.

“Mine too, honey.” He mutters, kissing you tenderly, a sweet promise of more beautiful Christmas days to come.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

ALL I WANT 4 CHRISTMAS .ᐟ

What are the jjk & aot boys doing this Christmas season?

Somehow, mistletoe is left in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Nobody knows exactly how he acquired all of this, but as he continues to swerve the advances of anyone else he meets under the green and red decoration, his intent grows more clear. There's also a mysterious bundle of it in his pocket, which he explains as his "just in case" backup. Before you knew it he was taking you by the hand and leading you through the house, much less subtle at scanning the doorways above than he thinks. At first you're oblivious, wondering if someone had spiked his eggnog or something of the sort, but no. When he halts abruptly and you follow his gaze upwards, every oddity of his behaviour makes much more sense.

"Would you look at that? Mistletoe. Wonder how that got there."

You can still feel his proud grin against your lips, even after he kisses you.

⤷ Satoru, Jean

He’s lounging on the sidelines, eyeing you over the rim of his mug as you enjoy the winter day, unaware of his lingering eyes. The hot chocolate sears his tongue, but he can't find it in himself to react. How could he care, when you're laughing across the room? What was so funny? What was so special about those people that prevented you from talking to him? He's got plenty of other people gabbing in his ear, they always end up flocking to him, as odd as it seems. He only feigns interest in their words, but if it were you, he'd hold on to every syllable like they were life's greatest treasure. he'd take note of every shift, of every breath you took. But for now you were across the room and all he could do was stare, frozen in place.

⤷ Suguru, Eren, Toji

Ah, yes. The personification of Christmas, your very own worker elf at your side. Clad in a ridiculously festive sweater and some reindeer antlers, Santa Claus might as well have thrown up on him. You're sure that if it weren't for you, he'd be wrapped in Christmas lights and singing carols on doorsteps. "It's holiday spirit! Don't you like Christmas?" he'd say. He makes you out to be some sort of grump, but you know deep down that he's just a total dork.

⤷ Toge, Yuji, Connie

Your boy isn't one for grand gestures, he never has been. Even around the holiday season, his love is quiet; soft. His chunky sweater wrapped around your shoulders, a steaming mug in your hands because he noticed you were chilly. A batch of sugar cookies made just for you, icing of your favourite colour decorating the tops. A pretty little box with a ribbon tied into a bow (or at least it was supposed to be) atop it, even though you made him promise not to go out of his way more than he already has. He just can't help himself. A photo snapped of you when you're looking particularly docile, just for safe keeping. He looks at his little album of you when you're apart, but he doesn't tell you that part. His affection is a collection of small sweetness, like a box of trinkets filled with the little things you hold dearest to your heart.

⤷ Yuta, Armin

He’s doing all of the sappiest things without even realizing it. Who would expect this big, beefy oaf of a man to be so whipped? “Yeah, those decorations are really pretty. I’d rather look at you, though.” “Sorry for staring, baby. You just look so pretty. If you were the only present under the tree I wouldn’t mind.” He’s buying you reindeer plushies just because they’re cute, and when he gives them to you his eyes shine with something so sweet it’s hard to believe it’s him. So you take them, you accept all of it, every little thing teetering on the fence of cute and corny, because maybe that’s what love does to you.

⤷ Reiner, Choso

You know how I said Toge, Connie, and Yuji are the personification of Christmas? Yeah, he’s the grinch. No, he doesn’t need another candy cane. No, please don’t turn up the radio, if he hears another Mariah Carey song he might implode. It would be easier to hide his disdain if you weren’t so adamant, so pushy for him to “get in the spirits.” Get that damn hat away from him, he tells you he won’t allow himself to be subjected to your childish antics. But when the festive shine in your eyes dulls ever so slightly, when you retreat with a defeated huff, he doesn’t know what changes. He doesn’t understand why, but he knows he doesn’t like it. So he tugs you back with an annoyed huff, grumbling under his breath as he falls victim to your will. He always ends up doing that, somehow. Always ends up at your mercy, even though if it were anyone else he’d have blocked them out long ago.

⤷ Megumi, Levi, Sukuna

He seems like something straight out of a hallmark movie. Okay, maybe he isn’t as cheerful as your picture perfect husband, waltzing around like Buddy the Elf. Maybe he’s got that passive expression on his face, the one that’s just barely grown easier to read over the years you’ve grown to know him. But he’s cooking you meals and massaging your back, he’s sliding you his card over the kitchen counter before he leaves for work and telling you to do something nice for yourself. He doesn’t care, as long as he gets to see the results; see how happy they make you. He trusts you, he trusts that you’re just as his as he is yours, and that means all of his work benefits him just as much as you. Because he gets to see your face light up, see the subtle curl of your lips with every act of service, and knowing he’s the only one is well enough for him.

⤷ Kento, Erwin

a/n — I wrote this randomly at 4am because one of my mutuals asked if I was doing a Christmas special. Yes apparently I am. Also Gojo fit a few of these but I decided on that one :3 I was thinking about doing more fandoms but I’m not 100% confident in my characterizations for hq, hxh (been a HOT minute since I’ve watched), etc. so aot and jjk it is <3 most people are only here for jjk anyway so

[sirhamburrger]

ᯤ feat. yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, rin itoshi, seishiro nagi, kenyu yukimiya, ryusei shidou and oliver aiku ᯤ tags/cw: all characters are aged up, bit suggestive (shidou you freak), petnames ('sweetheart' in isagi's, 'love' in rin's, 'babe' in shidou's), rin is mean (affectionately), shidou being a freak in the minecraft bedsheets, but also really sweet, hopefully not that ooc, i have a semi-serious, semi-casual relationship with minecraft ᯤ a/n: no reason for this whatsoever no prompt no nothing just take this love child between me and my insomnia *shoves this into your arms and runs away* || divider by @sister-lucifer part 2 [rocket league ver with kuni, reo, karasu, sae]

yoichi isagi:

ᯤ is just kinda average at it. like he truly is just okay at it. ᯤ he’s so competitive though (he would ‘race you to that tree over there’ 😭 but he doesn’t know how to sprint so he always loses to you) ᯤ he likes the little sounds the eyes of ender make when you place them in the end portal frame ᯤ defeats the ender dragon with your help but makes you go ahead of him when exploring the nether ᯤ “hey uh sweetheart? why’s that green thing flashing white and making a noise” ᯤ favourite mob: chickens (they’re funny)

meguru bachira:

ᯤ he l o v e s minecraft so much it’s unbelievable (he was probably one of those kids who grew up playing it) ᯤ he loves trying out different hacks he sees on youtube. he knows that 99 percent of the time they don’t even work, but “there’s a 1 percent chance it will, and i’m feeling lucky today!” ᯤ lets you practice your shooting skills using his avatar as a dummy ᯤ cannot wire redstone for shit ᯤ tries to get the rarest (dumbest) in-game death messages ᯤ baabaabaachira experienced mid-life crisis while being attacked by tropical fish ᯤ favourite mob: cave spiders (they look scary in a cool way)

hyoma chigiri:

ᯤ plays for the mobs. will protect his lovelies with all his heart. ᯤ when he got his first minecraft dog, he built a little kennel made of cherry wood for it, only for it to fall into a pit of lava deep in the caves on day 5 ᯤ he cried for five hours ᯤ once you dyed all his sheep pink and he started to tear up just from looking at them ᯤ “hear me out, okay? i think we should get a pet axolotl.” and it’s legal in japan, so you do! (her name is hyoma jr) ᯤ has a huge minecraft zoo ᯤ favourite mob: parrots (they can sit)

rin itoshi:

ᯤ is mean to you at first. he’ll be like “why do you suck at this” and “i could do that too” ᯤ then he gets his hands on the controller and can’t figure out the controls for half an hour ᯤ “… love?” ᯤ “… yes, rin?” (you, amused) ᯤ “… how do you jump…” ᯤ its subtle charm does grow on him after a while. he plays on creative mode and just explores the server on a horse he named sugarcube ᯤ it’s cute watching him play (you send photos to sae) ᯤ favourite mob: sheep (all they do is eat grass and don’t bother you)

seishiro nagi:

ᯤ i will subvert expectations here and say that nagi doesn’t even play minecraft that much because he doesn’t like it ᯤ “such a hassle to play this game… there isn’t even any storyline you can just do whatever you want… and i don’t want to have to decide what to do” ᯤ he ends up finding a passion for building elaborate traps for you to walk into ᯤ absolute beast at parkour. he performs triple neos to perfection ᯤ if he’s a streamer he plays on twitch for the fans but he complains as he does it ᯤ favourite mob: bees (they’re just cute)

kenyu yukimiya:

ᯤ he doesn’t really play video games so understandably he gets off to a slow start ᯤ but once he gets the hang of things? he’s unstoppable. breezing through achievements like nobody’s business ᯤ he’s really excited about it too like “did you see that?? i just killed a zombie!” ᯤ it’s truly the culmination of 18 years of not touching a single game as a child/teen and now playing a sandbox game ᯤ feeling confident, he starts a hardcore world. (he dies from hunger.) ᯤ he's the kind to look up the most beautiful minecraft seed numbers, key them in meticulously and just take in how amazing they are ᯤ favourite mob: foxes, specifically the orange ones (he loves all things forest biome)

ryusei shidou:

ᯤ we all know he’s a very artistic kind of guy so he’d be geeking out over the textures and which colours would go best with each other ᯤ he doesn’t shower for a day because he’s playing creative (my lil stinky 🫶) ᯤ he builds the most beautiful multi storey houses!! and he’s like “if it were real we could live in there together 🥺“ ᯤ “why is the bedroom huge with like twenty beds…” (you, concerned) ᯤ “oh we’re gonna need space babe. for activities.” ᯤ but he doesn’t stop there; he learns how to make entire cities and landscapes and frankly they are masterpieces - think shovel241 (i freaking LOVE his videos they’re so satisfying) ᯤ favourite mob: endermen (he thinks they look badass)

oliver aiku: 

ᯤ meh he’s pretty good ᯤ raged when he first found out fall damage was a thing and again when he discovered hunger and drowning as death messages ᯤ is obsessed with speed runs and parkour for some reason (he’s really bad at both though) ᯤ is the guy who makes “100 MINECRAFT FACTS YOU DIDN’T KNOW” videos with his friends sendo and lorenzo ᯤ you once saw him set up an experiment to see how many blocks a llama can spit and died laughing ᯤ would absolutely kill you in-game just for the fun of it ᯤ favourite mob: cats (especially the black ones)

say hi to hyoma jr. it is not optional.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[notashadowbutawave]

I honestly think a lot of this is just in the text with Tommy's dialogue to Buck - about how he doesn't have community like Buck has at the 118, about how he wasn't always out but came out later, how working under Gerrard was oppressive, how he doesn't have a great relationship with his father, how he hasn't always been comfortable with himself. They actually are pretty directly calling attention to this in the majority of Tommy's scenes, I think! It's fascinating to see what they did with such limited screen time and dialogue. Lou Ferrigno Jr is turning in a really sensitive and nuanced performance with not a lot of material to work with, and based on how many times they raise these things, I do think that's kind of the MAIN thesis of his character. But what's really great about it is that he's not REDUCED to that - he seems to have a pretty rich lived experience, he's funny, he has hobbies and interests and obviously he's a badass firefighter helicopter pilot.

maybe I give the writers too much credit but I do think they find these nuggets of real human experience to wrap into the drama cycles and horror effects and over the top disasters and to me that's why the show works so well. like it has an honesty at its core and I think Tommy is a very very good example of that, and one that maybe rings truer for many of us than, say, Hen and Karen, whose stories are very much about them as mothers. (I think there's a different conversation that needs to be had about how 9-1-1 doesn't have a queer femme story that isn't made more palatable by making it about family domesticity, but this show is of course ALWAYS about family, especially found family and messy family and blended family, because it's Americana propaganda at its core)

but yeah - for those of us who maybe didn't explore our queerness meaningfully until we had already started establishing ourselves as adults, for those of us who don't have kids and don't know what the future looks like for us in that way, for those of us who grew up being called slurs simply because we were different before we even knew we were queer... yeah. That's a fucking amazing character to put in your primetime procedural soap. I love and need more Tommy Kinard in this show. And Lou is really knocking it out of the park. Just outstanding work by him. get him in a gay romcom NOW

You know, as clunky as Josh's Glee speech was, I really think the SPIRIT of it reveals just why Tommy is such a divisive character, and I honestly think it's because Tommy is AT LEAST an "elder millenial" and possibly late Gen X (cause fuck a timeline am I right?) and portrayed pretty accurately to that experience, and a lot of the people who are so rabidly against him are much younger. And they just cannot fathom the world that queer millennials, elder millenials, and Gen X grew up in and had to survive in. Like, the rules were different guys. So, so different.

So yeah, it makes perfect sense to me that Tommy resonated DEEPLY with a lot of older queer people and a lot of younger people just don't understand why he would.

[niwaart]

Doctor! Male! Reader X Batfam ( part1, part2, part3, part4)

..............................................................................

A new day begins in Y/N's life, the day he waits for every month: his day off. As usual, Y/N takes advantage of this day to take a short walk in the public parks, where he enjoys a quiet atmosphere away from the noise of the hospital and the crowds of the city. He spends some time contemplating the beauty of nature, and interacting with the children he meets in the park, which highlights his cheerful and lovable personality. Before sunset, he heads to the toy store to buy gifts for the children in the hospital, a tradition he loves because it makes him happy when he sees their smiles.

As he exits the store loaded with bags, Y/N comes across a strange man standing on his motorcycle wearing a red helmet, looking at him intently. It was Jason Todd or Red Hood who came excited to learn more about his adoptive father's new eldest son, after hearing the story and making fun of Bruce in their secret hideout.

Red Hood with a sarcastic smile: "So, you're Bruce's second secret son? I must say... Bruce has a talent for surprises."

Y/N smiling and unaware of Jason's identity: "Huh? You know my dad? Weird, were you his classmate?"

Red Hood laughs out loud: "Classmate? Oh, that's good! No, no. I... let's just say I know him pretty well, and I probably know more about him than he knows about himself."

Y/N: "Sweet. Well, if you do know him, why don't you ask him directly? Because I don't have much to say about him. I hardly see him in the news."

Red Hood says with narrowed eyes: "You're interesting. But I've heard that you're funny, playful, and maybe... a little annoying. I'm just here to see what you're like, but I'll say this: you're a lot better than that demon kid."

Y/N: "Demon child? I don't understand half of what you're saying, but anyway, I think I'll go now. The kids are waiting for their presents. And take this for you, Red Tomato Head." Y/N pulls out a lollipop and hands it to Jason.

Red Hood looks at the lollipop in his hand in surprise, then laughs sarcastically and puts the lollipop in his jacket pocket. "Oh, I'll watch you for a while. Don't worry, I'm not dangerous... usually."

Y/N smiles sarcastically. "Watch as much as you want, but rest assured I won't be putting on a show."

Red Hood laughs and begins to follow Y/N from afar, observing his actions throughout the day, increasingly curious about why this young man chose to stay away from the limelight and fame despite being Bruce Wayne's son. But Red Hood's nature is that he didn't want to interfere directly like Damian did, and instead enjoyed watching him from afar.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

After a day full of relaxation, Y/N returns to the hospital at nightfall, tired but happy. He places the children's presents and bids them a goodnight before returning to his office. What Y/N didn't realize was that Red Hood wasn't the only one watching him, but there was someone else who was even more curious: Tim Drake, who had plans to gather all the information he could about his new big brother.

...............................................................................

So.... what do you think about this part and what will the next part talk about?🧐

@roxy776699

@missmannequin

@theultimatezazasniffer

[fic-dumpster]

immiscible

Pairing: Cat hybrid!Sanzu x Hamster hybrid!Reader

Summary: You were not meant to be. Everything pointed to a disastrous outcome, but Haruchiyo Sanzu refused to let something as dumb as biology dictate his life. He wanted you and that was final.

CW: Hybrid AU, dubcon, PiV, oral (female receiving), mean Sanzu, possessiveness, typical cat behavior. Idk… lmk if I missed anything. Not edited and no beta.

Word count: 2.2K+

A.N: funny how this was inspired by Hamtaro and the pink panther. A very… unexpected crossover.

“Haru, stop bothering her!” Mikey’s voice boomed through the room for the third time.

You were hiding, again, under Mikey’s covers, attempting to stay as far away as possible from Sanzu who hadn’t been as welcoming as you were promised. You were told a good time awaited, but your current situation was not your definition of a good time.

Emma, Mikey’s sister and your owner, had to leave for a trip with her boyfriend and they left you under her brother’s care. You were against the idea, adamant about it. You cried and begged to be left alone or any other person available would do. But alas, nobody seemed to be able to besides Mikey.

Knowing the pink cat hybrid living under Mikey’s care was an ass, you knew It was a terrible idea. You were a rodent for crying out loud. A hamster hybrid. It was like trying to mix water and oil… an impossible task, and they expected you to share a living space with them for who knows how long.

Yes, you have been in Mikey’s place for less than four days and your life has been in danger more times than you can count.

Sanzu, the feline menace of this house, seemed to find joy in your little squeaks and chubby cheeks puffing even more every time he pawed at you; sending you back and forth to his entertainment. He was just doing that a second ago until you managed to escape and made a run for Mikey’s bed.

“Haru, let her go.” Mikey warned him with a stern voice, “she doesn’t like your games.”

Little did he know those weren’t just games for Sanzu. While you thought he wanted nothing more than to make a snack out of you, he had a whole other plan in mind.

Your small and round face peeked from under the covers and you instantly regretted your decision. Right there, looking straight at you with a wicked grin, was Sanzu. His green emerald eyes shined with mischief as he saw the scared look on your face.

“Ple-please, Haru… I-I do-don’t wanna play…” you stammered. Your heart beating wildly as you scurried deeper into the bed and away from the border where a crazed hybrid stood.

Have you ever tried to make a cat let go of his prey? Hardest thing to accomplish. Mikey knew that, but he also believed in his pet. Overall, Sanzu was harmless, according to Mikey. So when the only human in the room heard his pet hybrid promise to be civil. Well, Mikey believed him.

“I won’t do that again, I promise.”

To his credit, Sanzu didn’t chase you around anymore. There was no reason to run after something that was under his paw.

The first week passed by in a flash and you learned a few things. One of them was how Sanzu loved to see your attempts of scrambling away from him, whining every time he pulled your short puffy tail or yanked your whiskers. You saw the gratification on his face.

He would not leave you alone. So much so that he even gathered your things from the guest room and moved them to his. Mikey allowed such idea; believing in Sanzu’s excuse about hybrid bonding time or something.

Before bed, the cat hybrid would yank you against his warm body, wrap himself around you and nibble on your round ears; every time before bed it was the same, almost like a night routine. You would tremble under his arms, scared of becoming dinner if you made a wrong move.

Things got heated in the third week. Almost a month in and you had your fair share of questions about Sanzu’s behavior. He began to pin you down more often; growling and rubbing himself all over you. Grooming your neck and cheeks, for then to stay in that position for a while. Inhaling your scent and humming and purring in contempt.

Mikey just thought you two were finally getting along well and ignored whenever Sanzu dragged you into his room.

“Yeah, Emma. She’s doing fine. Haru is good company.” Mikey would always speak with reassuring words to his sister. Not lying, just telling his truth. “No need to take her to Takashi’s.”

As the phone conversation went on, in a different room your silent whines told a different story. The spiked tongue of Sanzu’s kept licking your skin, leaving it tender afterward.

“Heard that? You’re not going anywhere,” Sanzu rasped against your twitching ears.

The cat hybrid was ecstatic when he first heard the news from Mikey. You, the fragile little rodent, were going to stay with him? His prayers had been answered.

Sanzu couldn’t help himself, you were just too pretty for your own good. All shy and sweet with everyone else but him. You were a trembling mess whenever he prowled around you, his tail swiftly moving around your hips and legs got you squirming in place. He loved the special treatment you gave him.

The pink menace had begun to behave even weirder lately. Headbutts here and there, making biscuits on your tummy and chest which left you all hot and bothered, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. All smiles and hugs as your mind went from zero to a hundred in seconds. It all left you confused and dizzy at the end of the day.

For things to make sense something had to happen, right? Because such… affectionate behavior wasn’t normal. Well, a few days later when Mikey left to hang out with some friends; it did happen.

You heard a strange sound coming from Sanzu’s room. It was a very loud meowing, almost raw and it seemed painful; and as afraid of him as you were, you couldn’t just leave your only housemate alone if he was in pain.

With shaky steps, ears tuned in to the yowling, you made your way to his room. Stopping at the door, you saw your things still scattered around, but now a bunch of pillows and blankets also shared the space. As your eyes roamed through the room you finally spotted Sanzu. He was a sweating mess—pink hair sticking to his face, wild eyes unblinking and his face contorted in pain.

“Ha-haru? Are you ok—” But before you could say one more word, a strong scent invaded your nostrils.

It hit you with so much force that your eyes watered instantly. The smell was sweet; earthy and cinnamon-like but oh, so suffocating. You gagged and coughed at the burning sensation in your throat.

Suddenly, everything began to spin, but before your knees could hit the ground, you were swept off your feet. The sickly sweet smell surrounding you in waves—enveloping you whole. “S-stop! I ca-can’t brea-breath!”

“I knew you would come,” cooed Sanzu, completely ignoring your pleas.

He had you in his arms, carrying you towards the improvised nest made of blankets. Your body shivered, rejecting the aroma of a different hybrid. It was clear—compatibility? Null. Even your body’s biology refused to accept the idea of it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, you were being dropped on a soft surface and still, the potent scent kept mingling all your senses. Just as fast, he was on top of you; holding your hands above your head and leaning forward with his whole weight pressing down on you.

“You look so pretty… underneath me,” Sanzu sharply whispered against your temple. Nose caressing the border of your face as it traveled to your lips.

Nudging your legs apart with his knees, he nestled himself between them. Slowly but steadily grinding his hips against your clothed core. “You did this, you know? You made me go into heat, you little minx.”

“No! I didn’t know– didn’t mean to!” You whimpered—lips to lips, sharing the same air.

A whirlwind of thoughts passed through your mind. Guilt, fear, anger and… surprisingly lust. The more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body reacted. Your legs fastening around his waist, pulling Sanzu even closer which made the feline purr louder as your little squeaks mixed in between.

You felt the weight of his body—of his clothed cock constantly pressing on your entrance, humping, just rutting in place. Wetness had begun to creep in between your clothes

“We can’t do this, Ha-Haru…”

“You want me to stop?” Sanzu asked with clenched teeth but you shaked your head in denial, “Good, because I don’t think I would be able to…”

The feline eagerly pawed your clothes off, feeling a surge of giddiness born in his stomach. He was so close to you, he was finally touching every single part of you. Sanzu could practically taste the air charged with your arousal.

“You need me here,” he purred, lithe fingers dancing around your gushing entrance. “I’ll have a quick taste and you’re gonna be good and let me.”

Not soon had you felt his hands let go, ignoring his previous words, you tried to scramble away. On your hands and knees, you made a big mistake. Sanzu felt your cotton-like tail hit him in the face and it just made him latch onto you even harder. His hands grabbed your thighs, pulling you back and at the same time wrangling you back into your last position just to directly smash his face against your cunt.

A hollow scream erupted from your raw throat once you felt his tongue practically forcing its way in. His fingers digging into your skin, the force of his sucking lips and never had his tongue stopped moving inside you. You were ashamed to admit he felt too good, your bucking hips constantly hitting him but Sanzu didn't even notice. Too focused, too drunk on your hypnotic flavor.

A straight lick later and a moan of satisfaction from the pink feline had you in almost tears. “You were already wet enough, but I couldn't help myself. You’ve made me… a voracious beast.”

You felt his fingers open your lower lips, heat radiating from your center smearing his digits. You don't know when or how he discarded his own clothes but as your eyes refocused, you saw his skin almost glowing, radiating scorching warmth on top of you. Unhurriedly, Sanzu guided his cock inside, stretching your opening to mold him, to take him. You were so soft, so warm that it almost hurt with how sensitive his tip was.

“I promise to—fuck… aah— mount you properly next time,” he growled at the thought of having you—ass up squeaking for him again, “but I need to see your cute face right now.”

Sanzu hissed at the contact and gave a final push of his hips; entering you with force. In return, your face contorted at the intrusion, you were a squealing mess under him. The sudden action wasn’t as pleasant as the previous activity. Your insides burned as your walls tried to push the foreign object out. But Sanzu persisted, holding you in place as he slowly retracted and moved back in. Inch by inch of his cock with no hurry.

He repeated this action until he felt almost no restraint on your part. Your cute little cunt had finally gotten used to him. He went in and out smoothly and your sounds had changed to mewls and puffs of air—full of need. Your hands traveled from his chest to his shoulders, no longer trying to stop him. On the contrary, you were pulling him in, scraping his neck with a sudden need to have him closer.

The feline purred loudly as he absorbed the change in your demeanor. Your half-lidded eyes were calling to him. His words failed him, he couldn’t even tell you how good you felt. All that left his lips were groans and beastly sounds.

“Fa-faster, Haru!” You moaned out without shame. Gone was the timid little rodent.

His chest reverberated once again, an instant answer to your plea. His tail moving wildly behind him, his ear twitching at the sound of your voice. All his body automatically responded to your calling.

His hips hitting you with abandon. Your pussy lips are swollen from the constant friction.

“M-mine.” He heaved with furrowed brows; fingers gripping tightly at your soft and plush skin.

Sanzu wasn’t even sure he was speaking out loud, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of finally being buried deep in your heat. Nothing could take him away from you.

─────── · · ·

“Get your furry fiend away from her!” Emma was a red from rage, “Manjiro Sano! I am serious!

“He doesn't wanna let go!” Mikey looked over at his friend who was also Emma’s boyfriend for help, “Ken-Chin, tell her!”

Meanwhile, Sanzu with flattened ears and a swatting tail had you under his body; hissing menacingly at the three humans trying to take away his mate.

Of course, you had tried to explain but your meek voice wasn't heard in the middle of all the shouting.

[mhevarujta]

It's funny how Celeborn is being called boring and his relationship with Galadriel is being hated upon by people who claim that they're all about Galadriel being valued, because this is literally what this dynamic is all about.

In a world where many people treasure gold and jewels, Celeborn's treasure is Galadriel. Yet he never treats her as an object. He never handles her as something fragile to be put aside and to be protected and marveled at. They fight the long defeat together. They find a place to call home. They realize their ambitions and rule their lands together. When the time comes, she follows her path to go West and diminish, thus passing her final test, and he is allowed to linger to the place that has been his second love, knowing that he and Galadriel will meet again. Even so, it still hurts him that he has to let her go despite it being temporary.

There's so much talk about people LOVING the concept of a guy being absolutely in love with and in awe of his wife, but when it actually happens (and Tolkien was admirably ahead of his time in writing such a ship and in making Galadriel the most important of the two, and possibly the most important among his elves as he kept editing) it's not enough.

I also love this one version of Galadriel choosing this specific name, which was given to her by Celeborn, because it was the most beautiful of her names. In Tolkien names have meaning and importance, and many characters gain names that they either do or don't want through the way they are seen by others. There's something so special to me about Galadriel feeling so seen and understood and seeing such beauty in the name that Celeborn gave her, that she chooses this upon all the other names given to her by family and since much earlier. And everyone around her falls in line because on the one hand they probably saw how fitting it was and on the other she has THAT kind of power to those around her. She has the will and strength to shape who she is and how she wants to be perceived.

[zepskies]

Aww I love that for you!! (I would so be joining him on that LOTR rewatch--extended edition 🤣) Merry Christmas, my lovely Wayne!! 💕💕 Thanks for treating me with yet another Christmas gift. 🥹

Jesus's birthday! We're jumping right into this, and a bullet flying past your head while you're bloody and running through the woods is horrifying 😳 Hoping the boys are close 🤍

Oh yeah, we're diving STRAIGHT into the action on this part. That's your worst nightmare 2X right? 😅😅

She's such a badass! Russell would be so proud of her 🥹

LOLL first of all, your Joey gif had me deaddd. She's def learned a thing or two on self-defense from Charlie, and I too think if Russell saw her he'd be really proud. 🥹

I snorted so hard 😂😂 Such an accurate Colter moment again 🤍 I loved their little bonding/teasing moment while searching too 🥹

Ahahaha I love his dry sarcasm (very much like mine). 😂 I felt like we needed that broment of levity before all the heavy action! 💜

She is so damn cute 😆💕 I'm glad it all worked out and both Charlie and her are okay. Colter watching them with his little secret smile was so adorable too. My heart is full 😭🥹❤️

Aww I'm so glad you like her nerdy heart like I do. 🥹🥹 It all worked out in the end, thanks to the Shaw bros! And I loved giving her and Russell that moment with Colter's "secret smile," him ultimately knowing where this is going and giving them their romcom beat loll.

Damn Charlie... Love yourself a little more, buddy 😅❤️‍🩹

Poor guy loll. His self-esteem has taken a beating. 🥲❤️‍🩹 I had this scene from The Hitman's Bodyguard in my head. 🤣🤣

The Ken doll... I fucking can't with you today 🤣🤣 (The rum might also be kicking in lmao)

Lmaooo I'm honestly so glad someone thinks I'm funny, even if it's due to the rum. 😂🥃

Finally! I genuinely love how long it took him to catch on 😂 Loved this part! I'm glad Charlie's getting some help and these two finally decided to take the plunge ☺️ Can't wait to see what happens in the last part. I know they still have some things to figure out, but I can't imagine Russell wouldn't be willing to work on some sort of agreement 💚

LOLL He got there eventually. 😏

Aww thank you so much, hun! I thought Charlie deserved a proper second chance to turn his life around. 💜

Part 5 is where the rest of the magic happens between these two, now that they more or less have an understanding. 😘 Hopping over to your lovely comments on the finale next!!! 💕💕

Every Second Counts - Part 4

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: No cliffhangers this time, I promise. 😘

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Perilous situations, blood and violence, some more protective Russell, angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 4: “Mountain Man”

You were running for your life. 

Blood dripped down into your line of vision, but you swept it away from your face with a haphazard hand, along with your tears as you nearly stumbled on the path. 

A gunshot rang in your ears and hit a tree instead of your head.

Shit! You screamed and ducked, but you kept running…

After you tumbled down the hill, it was a small mercy that you didn’t break any bones when you eventually landed at the bottom. You’d stared up at the sky, winded, your back aching. Until you noticed Rick, one of Eddie’s men. He was sliding down the hill after you. 

You didn’t know what happened to your brother after he attempted to push you out of harm’s way. That thought alone gripped your heart like a vice, but you knew you couldn’t stay here on the ground either. 

You forced your body to move, whimpering at the pain and stiffness. Shakily you pushed onto your feet and slipped on dead leaves as you went. You moved your legs faster, until you were able to take off running deeper into the forest.

You gasped when your foot caught on a large rock. It sent you crashing into the ground. With your hands still bound, it made pushing yourself back up that much more difficult.

You spat out a couple of leaves. Fuck…

When Rick caught up to you, fear made you jolt into action. You wrapped your gathered hands around the rock that felled you and tossed it at him with all the strength you had. He blocked the projectile with the same hand that held his gun, like an idiot. You really couldn’t be blamed when the gun went off in his face.

He screamed, and so did you on reflex. Though his cheek and brow had been grazed by the bullet, he was lucky he still had both eyes. He blinked a bit of blood out of his left one. You scrambled back onto your feet and meant to keep running, but Rick still managed to surge forward and get a hold of your hair. 

Uttering a short scream, you grabbed his shirt and kneed him as hard as you could between the legs. You hoped you crushed his dick and balls.

“Oh, f—” He went down to the ground, sinking onto his knees as he dropped his gun. He glared up at you. “You little bitch!” 

You were panting for breath, but you didn’t wait for him to recover and grab his weapon again. 

You ran. 

You ran, even though you had no idea where you were going. You just knew that you couldn’t stay in one place. But if you couldn’t find your way around a college campus, how the hell were you supposed to navigate the damn Medicine Bow National Forest?

Along with your desperation and fear, tears kept filling your eyes whenever you thought of Charlie. 

Please, please, please…

“Goddamn, they could be anywhere,” Russell groused, as he and Colter hiked through the forest. He was, admittedly, breathing a bit harder from the trek uphill. “It’s been hours already.”

“It’s barely been an hour,” Colter reminded him. And he didn’t look winded in the least.

Bastard. Russell glanced at him, but then he focused on the horizon. The sun was finally starting to come up, which was good for them. They could see the trails more clearly.

“Remember when Dad used to make us free-climb the cliffs in Sierra?” Russell asked.

“Yeah,” Colter said. “You used to beat me every time. Wonder what happened to that guy.”

His tone was teasing. Russell shot him a look, half annoyed, and half amused.

“Yeah, well, he turned 40,” Russell replied.

Colter smiled, but both of them paused when they heard a gunshot ring out, followed by two more.

“That was close,” he said.

“Yeah,” Russell agreed, drawing his own gun. Colter did the same, and they hurried up a roaming hill that had Russell briefly peering over the side. In his mind’s eye, he had to shutter away the memory of seeing a body flung over the side in the dark and the rain. Then him looking over the edge of that cliff and recognizing his father’s twisted body.

And Colter, shouting up at him with angry, tearful, accusing eyes.

A male groan broke Russell out of his thoughts as he and his brother came up on a grim scene. Two men laid dead, and another young man with dark hair was lying prone on the ground, clutching his wounded leg. He’d been shot, though a gun also was held tightly in his own hand. He aimed it at the newcomers.

“Charlie?” Colter asked. He recognized the other man from your family photos.

Charlie blinked up at him in surprise, but not without a grim set to his jaw.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Russell let out a subtle breath. Colter was relieved as well.

“I’m Colter. This is my brother, Russell,” he said. “Your sister asked for our help to find you.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. All of them slowly lowered their weapons. Russell gestured at the bodies lying yards away from him.

“I’m guessing one of those guys is Eddie Mendez?” he said.

Charlie nodded, gesturing at the man closest to him with his gun. He groaned at the agony in his right thigh. Colter quickly went to his side and began to wrap a tourniquet around his leg to stem the bleeding.

“Did the bullet go through?” Colter asked.

“I think so,” Charlie replied.

“Where’s your sister?” Russell asked, his impatience evident in his stance and the way he held his gun while scanning his surroundings. His frown deepened when he didn’t see you.

“Oh, fuck!” Charlie said, and not at the pain of Colter wrapping his leg. His eyes were wide with panic. “Rick’s after her. I clipped him, but he slipped by me.”

“Where?” Russell asked. Charlie pointed down the side of the hill.

“Down there. Headed north I think, but I’m not sure,” he said quickly. “Help her, please!”

Russell didn’t need any encouragement. He started down the hill first. 

After making sure Charlie was stable for now, Colter followed after his brother a few minutes later. 

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

He turned sharply to see you coming out of your hiding place—a large fallen tree. A smile started to raise his lips, but no sooner had he taken one step in your direction, when he almost got a bullet in his head for his trouble. 

“Watch out!” you yelled. Rick came out into the clearing and aimed at you next. 

“Get down!” Russell shouted. 

Without blinking, he shot Rick three times: once in the shoulder, twice in the chest. 

The man went down. He was dead before he even met the ground. 

It was then that Colter finally caught up. Russell nodded at him, but his focus was on heading for the fallen tree after he stowed his gun.

The moment he took a step over it, you popped up with a yell, ready to smack him with a tree branch. He leaned back raised up his hands in defense. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay! It’s just me, slugger,” he said with a grin. 

You let out a sharp sigh of relief. The branch fell from your loose fingers. As you caught your breath, your mouth trembled, and your eyes filled with tears at the sight of him. 

Russell softened. He reached for you.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. Your hands slipped into his, and he helped you over the trunk of the tree. After using his handy pocketknife to cut through the zip ties binding your wrists together, you landed right into his waiting embrace. There, you spilled hot tears into his bulletproof vest. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha,” he said. His voice was low and soothing. “You’re okay.”

You raised your head with a desperate question in your eyes.

“Charlie?” you asked.

“Charlie’s okay too,” Russell assured. His hand soothed over your tangled hair and down your back. He could feel you trembling as you rested against him and sobbed. He held you tight, safe, as he rocked you a little from side to side. His own relief was a weight off his chest. 

Colter stood by and watched with a secret smile. 

With his bare hands clawing into damp soil, Colter dug up the crate Charlie buried near the base of the waterfall. True to his word, it was filled with precious artifacts. 

“Just, please be careful,” you warned him again over his shoulder. “These are quite literally hundreds of years old.”

Before Colter could assure you, again, that he’d be careful, you actually set a hand on his shoulder and implored him to move back.

“Matter of fact, sorry, let me do this part,” you said. “I’m the only one who’s really trained to handle these. Plus, your hands are dirty.”

Colter raised a brow, but he obliged you. He glanced over at his brother. Russell just watched in amusement while you opened the crate. 

You wished you had gloves on for this, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You stopped just shy of touching them—a bow and arrow, three spears, and a couple of knives. Each were crafted with wood and bone, with designs carved and accented in faded red and blue.

“Wow,” you whispered. Your historian heart was singing right now. 

You made sure each artifact was intact and hadn’t sustained water damage, then you covered them back up with the lid to the crate. 

“Okay, now you can take it, thank you. This thing is heavy,” you said, with a pat on Colter’s shoulder. 

His lips played at a smile, but he accepted the responsibility of carrying the crate.

Russell rested a hand on the small of your back to subtly help you back up the hill. You couldn’t help walking closer with him, your arm brushing against his side. You glanced up at him with a smile. He matched you, then looked up ahead. 

Charlie was waiting for you all while leaning against a tree. He still looked like utter hell—cut up, bruised, bloody, and now shot in the leg. You went to his side and gently grabbed his arm. 

“God, Charlie. You sure you’re okay?” you asked. He curled an arm around your shoulders and flashed you a familiar grin. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m like a cockroach. Just keep coming back,” he said.

You had to agree with that, laughing through the spark of your tears. Russell came on his other side and shouldered most of your brother's weight off his bad leg. 

“Okay, here we go. One step at a time,” Russell said.

Slowly, painfully, Charlie managed to make it back to Colter’s truck with you and Russell supporting him. Colter brought up the rear with the artifacts in tow. 

And behind you all, the sun broke more fully across the dewy trees in a morning swathed with orange and gold.

After Colter drove you and Charlie to the hospital, he and Russell took off again soon after to do something with the three bodies hidden under a tarp in the bed of the pickup truck. The thought made you shudder, along with the fact that the Shaw brothers knew how to hide bodies.

But you supposed it was better than the alternative.

As it was, you, Colter, and Charlie had to lie to the hospital staff about how you both had earned your injuries—in a brutal mugging, where Colter was able to scare off the men that got the jump on you and Charlie.

"I never saw their faces," as he'd later told the police, while the nurses prepped him for surgery. "I just tried to protect my sister the best I could."

You backed him up on the story, even as the lie felt bitter on your tongue and made you nervous (especially when you thought of poor Dr. Feinman).

Despite that little break-in at the museum yesterday, you'd never been good at being a rule breaker. Fortunately, Colter's calmness when he gave his corroborating statement helped you. Like Russell, he was a solid, anchoring presence...if in a different way.

For the crate of relics, Colter advised Charlie to ship them back to the museum anonymously. It would be the easiest way to encourage the police to lose steam on looking for who took them in the first place. You and your brother begrudgingly agreed, even if you had a secret thought of sending the artifacts to the NMAI. Maybe you could convince Charlie to send them there instead, or to one of the local Native American tribes here in Wyoming.

Hours later, however, you were able to finally be with your brother when he came out of surgery. In that time, your own bruises and the cut above your brow had been tended to in the Emergency Department. Now, you sat by his bedside while he slept off the anesthesia. You stroked his scuffed hand on the bed.

He really was a mess, you thought, as a tear rolled down your cheek. But he was alive. That was what mattered now.

A quiet knock at the door had you looking up, and then smiling to see Russell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, and in surprise. “Everything…went well?”

Russell’s lips quirked. “Yeah, we’re all set.”

No one would be finding those bodies anytime soon. He had a buddy in Denver, Colorado who happened to be a cremator. It was only a couple hours over from Laramie. He and Colter had just gotten back from driving the bodies there.

Before Colter drove over to Dory's apartment next, both to check on her and to fill her in on everything, he'd dropped Russell off at your house so he could get his car. He hadn’t felt right about leaving you in the hospital by yourself, even if you did have your brother.

Not without saying goodbye, at least.

“You know, I need to ask his doctor a question about his post-op care,” you said, gesturing at Charlie. “Can you stay with him for a minute while I go find a nurse?”

“Sure,” Russell agreed. You smiled gratefully and touched his arm as you passed him.

When you were gone, it left a heavy silence in your wake. Russell looked over at Charlie’s sleeping form. Russell sighed and sunk down into the chair beside the bed. He rubbed his tired face with both hands.

Shit. Now that he thought about it, he could’ve just told Colter to bring Dory here. He pulled out his phone to call his sister, when a low groan caught his attention.

Aw geez. What kinda timing, Russell thought, as he realized Charlie was waking up. His eyes slowly slid open, brows furrowing at the bright lights above him, then at the man beside him.

“Hey, man,” Russell said. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Charlie said, with another groan as he tried to stretch his body. He found he couldn’t yet move his leg. As awareness blinked back into his eyes, he settled on Russell with resignation.

“Thank you,” he said. “What you did for me, for her…I sure as hell didn’t deserve it, but thank you for saving her.”

Russell shook his head. “No need. Just get better.”

“Yeah. The doc says in a few months, I’ll be able to learn how to walk again,” Charlie said.

Russell gave him a firmer look.

“No, I mean get better,” he said. “You know you nearly got your sister killed.”

Charlie’s gaze fell. His face tightened, but really, he couldn’t even be upset at the accusation. He knew it was true, and his guilt already threatened to consume him. He also knew he should be in jail for what he’d done, and what he’d facilitated for months. After what nearly happened in the past twenty-four hours, he wasn’t sure how you could ever forgive him.

“Look, I served too. I know what you’re going through, being back here,” Russell said. “It feels wrong and right, don’t it?”

After a beat, Charlie nodded. “What branch?”

“Special Ops. I hear you were a pilot, Captain.”

“Yeah, I was,” Charlie said, his eyes lowering. “Now…now I don’t know what I am.”

“You’re her brother,” Russell said. Both his tone and his gaze all but demanded that the other man look him in the eyes. “Not her father or her son, her brother. I know you’ve been struggling. But I think you already know what you need to do, and figure out who you’re gonna be today, tomorrow, and the next.”

Charlie took in those words, and tried not to chafe at them coming from a near stranger. He knew, deep down, that all of it was right.

You came in a moment later with two cups of coffee. You brightened with a gasp when you saw that Charlie was awake.

“Hey.” He found a smile for you. You gave Russell the coffee you’d brought for him, but you quickly set yours down on the rolling tray so you could sit beside your brother.

Russell stepped out to give you two some privacy. You thanked him again and watched him go. Then, you turned back to Charlie with a tearful smile.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked.

“Have I said how much I love morphine?” Charlie remarked.

You rolled your eyes and took his hand in yours. “Yeah, how can I forget your thing for hard drugs.”

That hit sharper than a mere joke. His eyes fell away from yours. You sighed and bit your lip.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Charlie shook his head and covered your hand with his.

“No, I’m sorry. For everything I’ve put you through. And I don’t just mean today,” he said. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“All that matters is that you’re here, and you’re going to be fine,” you said. “I’ve already put together a list of what you’re going to need when we bring you home—”

Charlie stopped you with a squeeze of your hand.

“I’m not going home just yet,” he said.

“Well, no, not until they discharge you, but—”

Again, he gently cut you off. “You were right. I need treatment, and not just for this damn leg.”

He swept a hand through his hair and sighed.

“When they let me out of here, I’m going back to rehab,” he said. “After that, we’ll see.”

 Tears stung in your eyes…but you nodded in relief. You held both of his hands then.

“You’re not doing this alone,” you told him. “I’ll be with you, every step.”

 Charlie let out a self-deprecating chuckle. He felt he didn’t deserve that, but he smiled at you.

“I know. You’ll be nagging me in my head, even when you’re not there,” he said. You smirked and brushed his greasy hair away from his face.

“Damn straight,” you replied. “I’ve finally become Mom.”

Charlie shook his head in amusement, but he leveled you with a pointed finger.

“But for now, you need to go home and get some rest,” he said.

You reluctantly agreed with that too. After a full twenty-four hours without sleep, you realized that you were exhausted. You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you,” you said. “I’ll come back to see you tomorrow.”

“Good. Love you too,” said Charlie. His eyelids were starting to droop from the pain medication, but he forced himself to stay awake for a little while longer. He even helped you back onto your feet with a guiding hand on your back. “Wait, is someone staying with you tonight? I don’t want you to be alone.”

You grabbed up your purse. “Don’t worry. I think I’ve got that covered.”

Your brother quirked a suspicious smile at the look on your face. The one you tried to hide from him when you noticed his scrutiny.

“What, is it one of those guys who helped us?” he asked. “Is it the blonde one—Ken doll? Or the mountain man?”

Of course he knew their names, but he just wanted to mess with you. He could already see you getting flustered while you twisted the strap of your purse between your fingers and glanced at the door.

 “What? No! Just go to sleep. Take advantage of the morphine while you’ve got it,” you said. “Don’t worry. I’ll call Dory.”

Charlie leveled you with a look. “Mhmm.”

He pulled the blanket higher on his chest and watched you leave. When the door swung open, he saw Russell leaning against the wall, waiting for you. 

Charlie huffed. He should’ve known. 

Okay, mountain man.  

That was the last thought he had before he drifted off.

You left your brother’s room just about overwhelmed with a maelstrom of emotions. However, the moment you saw Russell waiting for you, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, it all distilled into one simple thing. 

He met your gaze and started to smile. 

You smiled back, and you went to him. 

You reached up to frame his face with both hands, and you searched for something in his eyes. They were tinged with surprise, but he waited on you, wondering what you were about to do. 

When you thought you found what you were looking for, you raised up on your toes and pressed your lips to his.

His hands unconsciously found your waist and held you to him. He met your lips in kind, and even deepened the connection. Your fingers slipped into his hair, lightly dragging your nails against his scalp. He hummed in pleasure. 

When your lips eventually parted from his, it was still too soon, he thought. Russell stared down at you with a question in his eyes—one he couldn’t help voicing.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you for everything.”

Ah… Russell’s smile evened out and faded slightly. 

So that was just a gesture of gratitude. He hoped you didn’t decide to thank Colter that way. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Russell said. “I’m glad Charlie’s all right.”

“No, I do need to. So thank you,” you said. Your hands drifted down his chest, plucking at the edge of his jacket. 

“I don’t really want to be alone today, to be honest,” you admitted. “Would you…want to…keep me company for a while? You could rest up at my place.”

Russell’s brows raised. His lips curved. 

“Well, sure. I could do that. Your couch seemed pretty comfortable,” he said. 

“You don’t have to stay on the couch,” you replied. 

And then, Russell finally read your meaning. He saw it in your eyes, staring up at him through your lashes.

Maybe that kiss was exactly what he thought it meant. His smile became more genuine.

“Well, okay,” he said eventually. He wrapped an arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home then.”

You leaned against his side and gave him a lazy salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He shook his head. His smile deepened into a grin.  

“You’re a little delirious, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Probably need some water,” you said with a giggle. “And God, I’m starving.”

Russell laid a gentle kiss to the side of your head that wasn’t bruised.

“All right, we’ll take care of that too,” he said.

“You know what I’m craving?” you asked. He looked down at you questioningly, and again he found your smile.

“Sriracha fries,” you said.

Russell busted out laughing at that. He fist-pumped the air with his free hand. 

“Hell, yeah.” 

For that, and much more, he would count today as a win. 

AN: There we go! A nice fluffy finish for you. How did you like how Charlie's arc wrapped up, along with her reunion with Russell? 💜

But just wait. We're not quite done yet...

Next Time:

He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully. 

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile. 

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped. 

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5 (Finale!)

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[dogwithrabies]

【★】 Wanderer SFW and NSFW headcanons

【☆】 Bullet list format with some scenarios included. Written with a gender neutral reader in mind but has a AFAB anatomy section at the end, word count: 2.7k

honestly, i could go on forever, there's so much i love about him i could never fit it in one post.

This is not proof read!

Starting off with the fact that it would probably take him SO long to realize he’s caught feelings and even longer to accept them. It’s a ridiculous predicament he’s found himself in. The Wanderer is a yearner at heart, but he also carries a huge amount of baggage.

Realistically?

It’d take him years.

And even after he’s sort of accepted it, it won’t be smooth sailing. It’s still complicated for him, yes, he likes you, now what? You make him feel all sorts of things and it’s so frustrating. 

He always finds himself making excuses to linger around you, and even then he acts like willingly spending time with you is some sort of atrocious torture. Always complaining and huffing. You don’t take it to heart as it’s very evident this is just a self-imposed hostage situation, he could leave anytime he wants; he simply chooses not to.

So you decide to spare him and not call him out on it (for now).

Despite yearning and wanting, he has no intention of making the first move. It gets to the point that it’s painfully obvious to anyone around him that he’s got a soft spot for you. But he won’t budge, even if the traveler or Buer tease him relentlessly.

It’s sort of his last resort, if you don’t reciprocate his feelings then he can rationalize it as another instance of the human nature disappointing him. Just another reminder to not trust again.

Alas, it all flies out the window the moment you (metaphorically or literally) corner him. It’s kind of funny how little resistance he puts up, despite his aversion to touch he never pushes you away (another example of his favoritism).

Pretend to fix his hair out of his face, play with the ornaments of his clothes, accidentally sit too close to him, it all leads up to the moment where everything escalates. 

Grab him by the waist and drag him close to you, tease him with what you know he craves just to let go. It’s an utterly unnecessary dance around the obvious but his reactions are just too cute, the way his face turns an absurd red color while he fights his hands from reaching and holding onto you.

Frustrating.

(note: overdoing it will make him think you’re just toying with him, he already feels like some sort of pathetic damsel in distress in this predicament, so please spare him).

He tries to psych himself up to reciprocate your touches (or do the unspeakable, initiate them), he always chickens out at the last second, but this time, his hands move faster than his brain can think and he finds himself pulling you back in.

It’s instant regret that fills him as he cringes at his own behavior but you quickly shut it down by kissing him.

It’s messy and unpracticed on his end, and it even took him a second to process it and reciprocate.

The label of your relationship is never stated outloud, you’ve been chasing each other for so long that it goes unspoken.

He starts inviting himself in your spaces now, the kiss left him with a whole new level of yearning. He never outright tells you what he wants, instead, he leaves a trail of undecipherable hints.

The sound of scribbling of pens and shuffling of papers fills the air as you work away at some unimportant receipts. He sits behind, you boring holes in your back by the amount of glaring he’s been doing. He’s here, he’s available, and you’re completely ignoring him in favor of wasting his time on some frivolous documents.

When he scoffs for the nth time you finally grace him of your attention.

“What?”

He’s almost caught off guard when you acknowledge him, quickly regaining his composure to shoot a glare at you.

Okay, so it’s another challenge of his.

One that he hopes you’ll pick up, because why be upfront with his desires when he can just throw at you a puzzle and watch you struggle to solve it? (one that he himself wants you to solve, and fast, don’t make him wait).

You calculate your options, ignore him until he gets so frustrated he confronts you (or leaves), or up him at his own game.

So you make a show of getting up from your spot and plopping down next to him, so close you’re squishing yourself in his side. He looks at you with a puzzled look as you embrace him with one arm, pulling him close and ensuring he doesn’t try to make a run for it.

“What’s wrong, my dear Wanderer?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He responds bitterly, refusing eye contact, the slight red on his face betrays him. Cute.

“Awh”, you move your arm down to his waist, “I’m sorry I neglected you, how can I make up for it?” Your tone almost hints at something more suggestive, he wants to shoot back with a snarky remark but he’s so out of his depth that he just stares at you.

He wants, he craves, but…

You let out a breathy laugh, “If you want something from me, you should just tell me.” You finish the sentence with a kiss on his cheek and start retreating to get up, but he stops you.

“Stay.” He looks conflicted, like he’s fighting himself to speak up.

“Okay,” you sit back down and face him. “What else?”

“...Kiss me again.”

And you oblige.

The progress is slow, but it’s there. His selfishness will always win.

It can be insanely difficult to navigate sometimes, you’re the first human he willingly subjected himself to romantically and just the thought of sharing you with other people is gut wrenching. The way people look at you when you’re out and about, the friendly touches and hugs, it all just drives him a little bit insane.

He hates feeling like this. It’s those times he disappears for hours, just mellowing in his own feelings.

It takes a LOT of reassurance, he wouldn’t outright tell you but it’s sort of obvious. Lots of (involuntary) tears. He wants to trust you, but his emotional walls are incredibly thick.

With time, he improves a lot. He has taken his whole redemption seriously, he wants to be better and be better for you.

You showed him he can rely on you, and trust you. It’s a very scary trust fall for him, but you’re there to catch him.

He goes from reminding you of a tiny feral cat, constantly hissing and hiding to the cutest little kitten. Get domesticated, idiot.

Additional stuff:

He doesn’t do PDA, but won’t stop you from holding his arm or hand.

His love language is definitely acts of service, he loves doing things for you. He cooks, he cleans, he’s a house wife in denial.

For him, words of affirmation and physical touch. He loves it when you hold him, tell him how much you love him and whisper corny sweet nothings to him.

Skin to skin contact is very soothing to him. It doesn’t have to be sexual. he just wants to feel you.

He’s a little spoon, again, loves being held.

His favorite spots to kiss you are on the corner of your lips and forehead.

NSFW starts here:

He is, what one could call, a virgin. lol.

In his pursuit of divinity, he had no time or intention of getting distracted in engaging that way with humans. He knows what that activity entails, he just never had an interest in it. Until now, when he met you.

It’s that sort of unique situation that only a four hundred year old puppet could find itself in, four centuries of self imposed abstinence thrown out the window the moment you pop up. It starts innocuous enough that he can rationalize it as simple curiosity, but before he can realize it, it all spirals out of control.

He’s spent long sleepless nights trying to ignore the very obvious tent in his shorts. He never had the inclination to masturbate before, he tried to ignore it the first times, waiting it out staring at the ceiling until he had enough peace of mind to rest a bit.

And then you appear in his dreams. He is beyond frustrated now, how dare you infest his mind even when he’s unconscious? And so he finds himself reaching down to free his aching erection out of his shorts. He doesn’t want to, but maybe if he gives his body what it wants he can finally move on. He grabs himself with very inexperienced hands and tries to get it over with as fast as possible.

Images of you pop in his mind, he wants to be ashamed of where his thoughts are going but he finds it incredibly hard to when every picture of you makes him twitch and leak in his fist. He wishes it were your hands instead of his stroking him to completion, but perhaps it would be too much for him, and just the mere thought of that makes him spill on himself, making a mess of his hands and shorts.

Utterly shameful.

With you in the picture, he just doesn’t have the will to deny himself any longer.

He wants your hands on him, bite him, or scratch him he doesn’t care as long as they’re on him. He doesn't want you to know how desperate he is, but it’s kind of impossible to hide how hard he gets every time you hold him and kiss him.

You make the first move, dragging him onto your lap and sneaking your hands on his thighs. He wants to complain about your man-handling, but your hands are teasingly close to his bulge. A tiny voice in his head is screaming at him to leave, save whatever little dignity he had left and not engage in “filth”. But he’s also thinking with his other head, and he blames you for it, so why don’t you do your due diligence and take care of it?

He’s already squirmy and you haven’t even started. He’s used to pain, to harsh hits and blows, but you cradle him so delicately and he doesn’t know how to act.

He’s imagined this scene several times, your hands on him, stroking him to completion, but he’s woefully unprepared for the actual thing. Your hands are impossibly soft, spreading his pre-cum on his whole length to facilitate the movement.

He wants it to last forever but he finishes embarrassingly fast, making a mess of your hands and clothing. 

You figure this is the end of your first sexual encounter with him, but he never softens in your hand. Yeah, puppet stamina be like that.

Additional stuff:

He’s a whimperer.

He wasn’t even aware he had the ability to ejaculate. He still thinks of it as an utterly useless feature. But he’s also somewhat glad he can, he likes seeing you covered in his spend. 

Also, since it’s artificial he’s shooting blanks. There’s no need for protection.

He doesn’t have refractory periods. He does get sensitive after a climax but he’s immediately ready to go again.

He’s a switch, more leaning on the submissive side. He does have a dominant streak in him, it’s mostly when he’s feeling more possessive, he starts acting on it once he’s more confident.

Kissing gets heated quickly with him. He’s very eager to stick his tongue in your mouth.

He’s very good with his hands and mouth, you had to guide him through it the first times. He’s inexperienced but very dedicated and a fast learner.

Being inside you is his favorite thing. Alongside cumming inside you.

Exploring the sexual side of a relationship can be tricky, and his constitution does make it harder. It’s a long process of trial and error. He also, in the span of 400 years, never bothered to figure out his turn-ons/offs, just to add an additional layer of difficulty to the whole ordeal.

You do know of his past position of power, so it’s no wonder he likes being serviced. Ride him, suck him off, it’s all good to him. He loves how sweet you are to him, taking him so gently.

Despite his doll joints being no longer visible, he still presents seams on his torso. The whole area is very sensitive, kind of an unconventional erogenous zone, but you work with it. He also has very sensitive nipples. He’s a bit sheepish about that.

Speaking of unconventional, he has a thing for choking. He doesn’t need to breathe, so it’s not the lack of air that gets him so ecstatic, it’s more of the act per se.

Marking, he loves hickeys, and his bodysuit covers his neck area so others seeing them is not an issue. Loves being bitten. Not the soft munches, he wants to feel your teeth breaking the skin. He’s been hurt before, to unimaginable extents, to the point where he almost started craving that pain. To have you bite and scratch him in such a carnal and vulnerable context immediately drives him over the edge.

Despite his masochistic tendencies, he’s not willing to do the same to you. He’s sturdy, you couldn’t injure him no matter how hard you tried. But you’re human. He knows from first hand experience how fragile your kind is.

Risk play is off the table, and so is any sort of public/exhibitionism. Alone and secluded in the woods? Sure. But nothing of the sort where people can see. This won’t save him from having embarrassing hard ons in public, sometimes just your presence is enough to get him bricked up. He just won’t act on it.

He has a mean streak, he loves teasing you, edging you, and pushing you to your limits. However, he cannot take even a bit of teasing. he immediately breaks and starts begging you to let him cum.

He’s a crier in bed, it’s cathartic for him.

Has an oral fixation. It works out great for you, he loves using his mouth on you.

His favorite part of you is your thighs. If you let him, he’d spend hours shoving his cock between them. Don’t get him wrong, nothing compares to being inside you, but something about being able to feel you twitch as he fucks himself through the softness of your thighs just does it for him.

Lastly, hear me out pleaseplease

Peg him.

He’ll be a bit put off by it initially.

He’s just never heard of it before. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?

You decide to put away the strap-on for the time being, starting with the basics as to not overwhelm him. Just fingers. You find out he has a completely functional prostate, and it’s your new way of tormenting him.

Don’t let him touch himself, instead, work him ever so slowly to his orgasm by spreading him on your fingers. He wants to be annoyed, to tell you that it’s useless and it’s just faster to let him do the fucking, but he’s hard, and leaking, twitching every time your fingers intentionally brush against that spot, and before long he’s shooting ropes all over his chest.

He’s still a bit fussy about it when you show him the toy you bought just for him. Because there’s no way that thing is going inside him, except it is, and he’s ashamed of liking every second of it.

AFAB anatomy section:

He’s a bit embarrassed of it at first, but he really likes your chest. He likes lying on them, he’ll fall asleep like that if you let him. His hands are always on them, kneading them around or just to feel you.

When you proposed to let him fuck your tits, he had no idea it was a thing. He likes the idea, in theory, when it comes to practice you get to find out just how much he really likes it.

He’s leaking so much it makes him practically slide around in them.

It’s not long before he finds himself covering your chest in cum.

It quickly becomes one of his favorite spots to cum on.