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whytheylosttheirminds · 2 months ago

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home for the holidays (part two) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️ (part one here!)

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

(taglist for this series is closed. please see author's notes at the end of the chapter for important info about the taglist!)

Somewhere between his house and yours it dawned on Rafe, much to his annoyance, that he had a big, stupid crush on you.

He tried everything to suppress it. He reminded himself that you didn't like him, that you probably thought you were better than him. He reminded himself how stupid it’d be to get attached to someone only a few months before graduation.

Jesus, really man? He thought. She’s not your type, Rafe. She hates you. Be a fucking man and pull it together.

But it was the way you were perched in the driver’s seat, scooted all the way forward leaving no room between you and the wheel, smiling as you sang along to Mariah Carey. You looked so soft and cute, the sleeves of his hoodie slipping over your hands as they clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he definitely had a crush on you, and he hated having a crush. There was way too much room for rejection. This was one area in which he’d never really grown up, so he opted for his usual defense mechanism - pushing your buttons, like he was ten years old on the playground, pulling your pigtail just to get a reaction.

“So was I right about you not having many hookups in college?” He blurted out sometime during the third play of All I Want for Christmas is You.

Your head snapped toward him, complete confusion and not even a smidge of amusement on your face.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled. “That’s kinda personal, actually…”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you at parties, and you don’t seem to have a boyfriend. Four years is a long time…”

“Everything is about sex with you, huh? Some of us are actually in college to learn,” you scolded him. It was his intention to push you away, and yet the repulsion in your voice still stung.

“Alright, I’ll stop asking,” he conceded.

“Good,” you huffed, shoulders slumping a little.

He looked over at you every so often, determined to find a flaw, some blemish or ick that he could use as a dealbreaker. This plan backfired terribly, his eyes only discovering more pretty features and cute little mannerisms that made his stomach leap every time he looked at you. He felt like a moth, brainless and hopelessly drawn to the warm light of a lamp that was sure to zap him dead at the slightest touch.

After twenty minutes of freezing him out for his “no hookups” comment, you gasped and excitedly pointed out the first of many road signs for your hometown, your annoyance with him replaced with excitement as the signs advertised you were getting closer and closer to home.

Then you finally gave him something to resent you for. After a remark about how excited you were to see your family, you looked over at him with big, kind eyes, nervously broaching the topic with a light touch on his arm, “I’m sorry about your family leaving you behind. That totally sucks.”

There was a softness in your tone that was so warm and inviting it made him want to jump out of the moving car. He knew he was fucked up for being mad that you were being nice, but he couldn’t help it, the tenderness in your gaze made him feel like a wounded puppy, and he hated your pity.

He pulled his arm away from your gentle fingers like they’d hurt him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “They didn’t leave me, it was just a miscommunication.”

You withdrew in more ways than one, pulling your hand back and falling awkwardly silent. Rafe kicked himself mentally, of course just when you’d started to come around to him, he pushed you away. Little did those girls in your dorm know, that was the true Rafe Cameron special.

“So, uh, you were saying something about presents for your brothers? How old are they?” He asked, praying he hadn’t made you shut down for good, trying to re-stoke the fires of the friendship you had been building since you offered for him to come home with you.

You were chewing on your nails, picking at the dead skin nervously. At his prompting you started to speak again, though a bit less enthusiastically than before he’d shut you down.

“Uhm, well,” you sat up a little. “There’s Luke, he’s sixteen. And then Reese is thirteen and Bennett is ten.”

“Fun ages,” he nodded, wincing at his cliché words.

“They are fun,” you nodded, a smile returning to your lips at the thought of your little brothers. The sight of you smiling again soothed the ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat, full of relief.

“Luke is such a teenage boy, too cool for everything. I got him some Nike cleats because he plays football, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like them but I think he’ll wear them. And Reese is quieter, he’s always been a bit more sensitive. He wants to be a photographer, so I got him a vintage Polaroid camera. Benny was the easiest to shop for,” you smiled at the thought of your baby brother, Rafe could tell you had a special love for him. “I got him one of those giant gummy bears that comes in its own plastic case. It cost a fraction of what I spent on the other two but I guarantee you he’ll be the most excited.”

“I’m sure they’ll all like what you got them,” he assured you.

“They better, they cost me a whole paycheck,” you huffed, thinking of all the hours you’d worked slinging drinks at your college’s go-to student bar to pay for the presents that were currently sitting in your trunk.

“It’s better than what I got my sisters,” he reminded you with a laugh.

“Hey! I spent six whole dollars on those souvenirs!” You scolded him, smiling at the memory of the crappy little knick-knacks in the backseat.

“And I’m sure they’ll love them,” he agreed.

“What about your sisters? How old are they?” You asked.

Surely, you were just being polite, keeping the conversation going after he’d asked about your brothers. But he wanted nothing less than to talk about his family right now, the thought of them all hanging out at the Bahama house, completely forgetting that he existed, still stung fresh. He wondered if Sarah and Wheezie even asked his dad where he was, why he wasn’t on the plane. Maybe they were relieved to celebrate the holiday without him annoying them, he probably deserved it.

“Hey, isn’t that your exit?” He pointed at the highway sign, advertising that the off ramp to your hometown was only half-a-mile away, trying to distract you from your question.

“Yes!” It worked, you sat up in your seat, excitedly pressing a little harder on the gas as you celebrated the proximity to home.

“Woah, slow down, I’d like to celebrate Christmas alive,” he joked as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

“Oh shit sorry,” you giggled, pulling your foot back to slow down a little. “I’m just excited. It’s gonna be so cozy. My dad will have put a bunch of colored lights all over the front of the house, and the tree will be up, probably a fire going and Christmas music playing. I can’t wait to see them!”

His jealousy was almost debilitating. What must it be like to feel this excited to go home? To know what was waiting for you was going to bring you so much joy? He wanted what you had so badly, he was tempted to reach out and touch you just to see if he could absorb your happiness by osmosis.

The little town you called home was just as small as Rafe was picturing, if not more. Though, the tiny houses lining the main street were decked to the nines with Christmas decorations, so much merriment in such a tiny little hamlet. The further into the country you drove, green street signs giving way to rickety, hand-painted ones, the more he felt like he understood you.

You smiled at all the lights, body absolutely buzzing with each turn that brought you towards home. Finally, you turned on a long dirt road, past a field of horses Rafe recognized as the farm you said you grew up next to. Approaching a mailbox with your last name on it, your smile fell from your lips, eyebrows creasing as you turned onto the property.

At the end of the long driveway was a small little split level home Rafe surmised to be yours, only where he expected a display of twinkling christmas decor, there was only one single flickering porch light. If he hadn’t known better, he’d assume the family who lived here didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“What the hell?” You mumbled under your breath, concern on your face growing as you pulled the car up and parked behind an old, rusting mini-van.

Arms full of presents, Rafe helping with your bags, you stumbled anxiously through the front door. The inside of your house was just as disappointing as the outside. It was messy, dishes on the counter and the echo of obnoxious video games ringing through the halls where there should be the familiar chatter of your family having dinner.

“Hello?” You called out, setting the presents down on the kitchen table. You peaked your head over the island, into the open space of the living room. In the far corner, where there should’ve been a Christmas tree, there was a pile of unfolded laundry.

Two messy headed boys peered over the back of the couch, the third head not moving from its fixation on the TV as his fingers continued to click away on his controller.

“Gigs!!” The smallest one, who Rafe assumed to be Bennett, shouted, he and the second smallest, who he identified as Reese, rose from the couch and made their way towards you.

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

“As in Giggles. It’s my childhood nickname,” you explained, and when you saw his teasing smirk added, “shut up.”

Reese and Bennett nearly tackled you, colliding into you with little bear hugs. Reese was nearing your height, though not quite there yet, and Bennett was small but stocky, his chubby arms squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Rice and beans!” You sang affectionately as you returned their hugs, messing up their hair and pinching their cheeks. You looked to Rafe to answer the question you could see already forming on his lips, “rice and beans, as in Reese and Bennett, their nicknames.”

He smiled at your affectionate embrace with your brothers, nodding with a little, “ah.” Something in him ached, like a haunted limb, a muscle he didn’t even have that was sore from lack of use.

After several moments, Bennett pulled away, eyeing Rafe and pointing a stubby little finger right at him, “who’s he?”

Reese covered his brother’s finger, forcing his hand down correctively.

“Benny, that’s rude,” you said, unable to suppress the little chuckle at your brother’s boyish indifference.

In your concern over the state of the house, you hadn’t planned out how to explain Rafe to your brothers. ‘He’s a friend’ wasn’t totally accurate, but it was the only language they’d understand. Before you could open your mouth to explain anything, though, your youngest brother blurted out, “are you Giggy’s boyfriend?”

“Bennett Alan,” you snipped at him through gritted teeth, giving him a motherly glare as you used his full name in warning. “You’re being rude, and he is not my boyfriend.”

This was true, though Rafe wasn’t sure there was any need for the tinge of disgust in the way you said it. He could sense Bennett formulating another pot-stirring question and jumped in before he had the chance.

“I’m Rafe,” he set his bag down next to the counter and held out a hand.

Bennett puffed out his chest, putting on his best adult voice as he shook Rafe’s hand, “I’m Bennett, my friends call me Benny.”

You and Reese gave each other knowing smirks, sharing eye rolls over your brother’s precocious antics.

“And which should I call you?” Rafe played along with his all-business tone.

“Depends, how much money you got?”

Rafe smirked, but you were mortified. “Oh my god, Beans! You can’t ask people that. Here, make yourself useful and put these presents under the tree.”

“We don’t have one,” Reese told you, the first words Rafe had heard him speak, and by his quiet tone and the way he avoided eye contact he understood why you’d called him the sensitive one.

Rafe caught the way you allowed worry to flash across your face for only a second before you smoothed your features back into faux nonchalance, like you were putting on a show for the kids.

“Oh okay, well then I guess we’ll just leave them on the table,” you shrugged, as if you hadn’t been raving about your family’s grand Christmas trees just minutes ago.

Your eyes drifted back to the living room, where your remaining brother still hadn’t risen to greet you.

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?”

The shaggy haired boy finally turned, eyeing Rafe with a cold distrust that felt like looking in a mirror.

“Looks like he’s already got ‘em,” he grumbled.

You gave him an authoritative glare that had much less playfulness than the one you’d given Bennett.

“Where are mom and dad?” You asked Reese in a hushed tone, shielding the question from Bennett, who was busy dragging a chair over from the kitchen table.

“It’s Thursday,” Reese responded, giving you a knowing look like you should know what that meant. When you clearly didn’t, he added, “chemo day,” in a whisper so quiet Rafe could barely hear it. “Mom’s been asleep since they got back and dad had to work the evening shift.”

Rafe did hear though, and your eyes flicked to him quickly with a vulnerability he hadn’t seen from you yet, like he somehow had something to hold over your head now. He wanted to say the exact right thing to put you at ease, to let you know your family’s business was safe with him. As he was formulating the words, Benny was climbing up on the chair he’d dragged over, standing directly between you and Rafe.

“How tall are you?” Benny asked Rafe once he could meet his eyeline.

“Uhm,” Rafe cleared his throat, pulled from the moment, “I’m 6 '2.”

“I’m 4 foot 1 and three quarters,” Benny explained, as though if this were a competition, he was just a few points behind Rafe, and gaining.

“Nice! 4 '1 is very respectable,” Rafe smiled, deciding it was best to be on Benny’s good side.

“And three quarters,” Benny corrected through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry, and three quarters,” Rafe put his hands up in defense.

Benny crossed his arms and gave Rafe a once over, as if he was the man of the house deciding if he was allowed to stay.

Sensing your brother was about to say some other rude thing to embarass you, you stepped in, “Benny why don’t you go show our guest where we keep the air mattress,” you grabbed him off the chair and lowered him to the ground with some difficulty, “and be nice,” you added in his ear.

Benny obeyed but gave Rafe narrow, suspicious eyes the whole way down the hall.

“There’s like a thirty percent chance Benny tries to fight him,” Reese noted as the two of you watched them go.

You chuckled, settling on the couch between your two brothers.

“So who is he really?” Luke asked, still not pausing his video game but at least acknowledging your existence.

“He’s just a guy from school,” you shrugged. “He’s Brody’s friend.”

“Is Brody here?” Reese asked hopefully. You and Brody had been friends your whole childhoods, and your brother’s were always big fans.

“No, he had an internship or something, but I’d already told Rafe I’d give him a ride, and when we got to his house his family was just, like, gone,” you explained. “They went on a trip and didn’t even tell him.”

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

“Language,” you scolded, making him roll his eyes. “But yes, it is shitty,” you added, making him smirk.

“He’s like Kevin from Home Alone,” Reese quipped. All three of you laughed.

“Honestly? It was kind of exactly like that, only sadder. Like a lost puppy. I mean, who just forgets their kid?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping it wouldn’t carry down the hall. “I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do so I said he could come here.”

Your brothers seemed satisfied with your explanation. Even though nothing you said was technically untrue, you still felt like you were somehow being dishonest. You’d never admit it, but it wasn’t all out of pity, there was some small part of you that wanted to bring Rafe home, that was intrigued by him and wanted to see more. But there was no way to explain that to two teenage boys, so you settled for the Home Alone excuse.

Benny came back around the corner, leaping onto the couch and nearly knocking over Luke’s soda.

“Beans, chill,” Luke groaned as he narrowly caught his Mountain Dew before it spilled all over the coffee table.

“Where’s Rafe?” You asked Benny, looking around to see if he’d followed your brother back out.

“He said to tell you he’s going to bed, he seemed kinda grumpy,” Benny shrugged, stealing Luke’s soda when he wasn’t paying attention and taking a swig.

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in your voice. “Okay.”

Down the hall, Rafe snuck quietly into the laundry room as the fading voices of you and your brothers were drowned out by the sound of the water heater, which sat in the cramped space right next to the air mattress Benny had helped him set up.

Your voice echoed in his head, ‘I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do.’

So it was a pity invite. You saw him as some sad character from a 90s movie, not an actual companion you wanted to spend the holiday with.

He settled on the uncomfortable inflatable mattress. He was in a house full of people, and yet he was beginning to think he might actually feel less lonely all by himself in Tannyhill.

Up before the sun, out the door before breakfast’s done; that’s the way your dad had been your whole life, working a string of manual labor, blue collar jobs that meant he was usually gone before you woke up.

This morning however, you were determined to talk to him before he left, to confront him about the complete lack of Christmas you’d found at your homecoming. You set your alarm at an ungodly hour so you could wait for him to come down the stairs.

Hunched over the counter by the brewing coffee pot, you ran your hands over your face. Your holiday homecoming was nothing like you imagined, the biggest surprise of all being the person you came home with, but you’d figure out how to broach that subject later.

“Hi Gigs.” Your dad’s footsteps were so quiet, you hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. When you turned to meet him, he flashed you a tired grin.

He’d gotten home after you went to sleep last night, this was the first you’d seen him since your anticlimactic arrival. He looked more exhausted than you ever remembered seeing him. Even more tired than after Bennett was born and he had colic for six months.

“Hi dad,” you approached and gave him a hug before returning to the coffee pot to pour some for him in a travel mug.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“A lot on my mind,” you said, turning to face him. “Made you some coffee. If you stay and talk to me I might just be persuaded to make you breakfast.”

Your dad slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, pulling on and lacing up his heavy work boots.

“No time for breakfast,” he waved you off. “You know that.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” You asked, knowing your window to get answers was closing quickly.

But he didn’t answer, he just sighed heavily and shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Just not a breakfast guy that’s all,” he joked. You knew he knew that’s not what you meant.

“You didn’t even hang any lights,” you mumbled softly, feeling a bit childish. “And there’s no tree.”

Your dad sighed again. You wondered if there was a record for how many times someone could sigh in one conversation.

“I’ve been working double shifts, there just hasn’t been time. I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long year, kid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s gotten so bad? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, pulling a side eye from him that you read as: and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.

“I don’t know, why didn’t you tell me about the frat boy in the laundry room?” He countered.

‘Oh, right,” you blushed, feeling like when you were twelve and he found you hiding a stray cat in the garage. “Was gonna mention him but, you know, you were working.”

“Could’ve told me you were bringing your boyfriend home,” he scolded you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to explain. “He’s Brody’s friend. He needed a place to crash.”

“Ah, Brody’s friend. That makes me feel so much better,” he rolled his eyes.

Your dad was never a fan of Brody, too much of a ‘knucklehead’ as he called him. You knew Rafe wouldn’t fare much better in your dad’s good graces, no guy you liked ever did. Not that you liked Rafe. Fuck, your blush was getting deeper. You quickly looked down at your feet, hoping your dad wouldn’t notice.

Luckily, he was too tired to read your facial expressions, he huffed as he rose from his chair and approached you, digging in his pocket for some cash. “Here, grab a tree and some gifts for the boys -”

“You haven’t even gotten them gifts yet?” You sighed.

“I know, I know,” he nodded, his baggy, tired eyes begging you for a little slack. You’d never seen him look so tired, sympathy overpowering your disappointment. “I’m trying here, gigs.”

“I got it,” you gave him a small, dutiful smile and pocketed the cash.

“I knew you would,” he gave you a side hug and accepted the travel mug of coffee you handed him. “I’m sorry things aren’t exactly what you expected. but I am glad you’re home.”

As he slipped out the front door into the chilly dusk, your mind spiraled. You knew your mom was having a rough patch with her breast cancer, but you had no idea it’d gotten this bad. No Christmas was simply not an option, maybe things would never go back to normal for you, or your parents, but that was adulthood wasn’t it? Your brothers shouldn’t have to grow up just yet, and you’d make sure they didn’t.

Everything felt wrong, off kilter in a way that made your stomach twist with the familiar anxiety that comes with any situation you can’t control. So you did what you always do when things feel uncertain; you made a list.

Pulling a notebook from the kitchen junk drawer, you uncapped a pen and quickly scribbled everything you could think of that needed to be done:

Decorations

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree

⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

Under each item you scribbled all the steps you could think of, as well as any conflicts you might hit along the way. Maybe if you could just work the problem, you could fix this, save Christmas and by extension, your family.

You eyed the empty checkboxes next to each item with worry. If you were going to pull all of this off in just two days, you’d need to call in some reinforcements.

The door to the laundry room squeaks if you open it slowly, which you did deliberately, milking it for all the disruptive sound it’s worth. Rafe was sprawled out on the air mattress, which had deflated just a bit in his sleep, making his legs stick up in the air a little higher than his upper body.

He was snoring away, just like he had in the car, your noisy opening of the door not doing what you’d hoped it would.

You sighed loudly, he didn’t stir. You cleared your throat, still nothing. You coughed theatrically, he was still out cold.

Finally, you opened the lid to the washing machine, taking off one sock and dropping it in, letting the heavy metal lid slam closed as you started a rinse cycle. At the crash, Rafe shot up, nearly falling off the air mattress.

“Oh good, you’re up!” You chirped, as if you hadn’t caused the sudden awakening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He grumbled at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and he squinted, barely able to open his eyes in his exhaustion. You gave yourself one second to think about how cute he looked before redirecting your focus to the reason you were in here.

“Just doing some laundry,” you told him as he reached around in the dimly lit room for his phone. “But since you’re awake...”

“What time is it?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“I dunno probably like 9,” you shrugged, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

“I can’t find my phone,” he sunk back into the mattress, making like he was going to go back to sleep. That wouldn’t do.

“Oh, here!” You flicked on the fluorescent overhead light, making him wince and pull the covers over his head.

“Gah! Turn them off please!” He cried out, voice muffled from under the blankets.

“It’s time to get up, we have a big day ahead of us,” you walked over to the mattress, kicking it to jostle him around on the half-inflated plastic.

“I’m on vacation,” he protested.

“Yes, exactly, Christmas vacation,” you walked around to the end of the bed, grabbing the covers in two hands and pulling them from his body, making him groan and curl up in the cold air like a rolly polly bug. “We have Christmas things to do.”

You tried not to notice the sculpted arms revealed by his grey tank top, and you really tried not to notice how the thin material of his flannel pajama pants was leaving very little to the imagination. He looked up after a moment, blinking his eyes open to catch you staring, his lips twisting in a cocky grin. He opened his mouth to say something smug and flirtatious, but before he could, his eyes caught the clock on the wall behind you.

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

“Oh is it?” You laughed, no longer trying to hide your scheme. “My bad, 6s and 9s look the same to me.”

Swiftly, Rafe stretched out his long leg, hooking his foot behind your knee and pulling you toward him, sweeping you off your feet and onto the mattress. A sharp “oof!” left your lips and as you crashed down onto what little air was left in the mattress to catch you. Landing hard, you immediately slid towards him, your body settling square on top of his.

“You wanna talk some more about 6s and 9s?” He grinned at you, his morning voice low and raspy in a way that sent goosebumps rushing up your spine.

“Ugh, you’re a pig!” You smacked him on the shoulder, pins and needles lingering in your hand where your skin had met his, and tried to push yourself up.

Wobbling on the plastic mattress, your attempts to get off of him only had you wriggling further down until your face was hovering over his. This was the closest you had ever been to him, suddenly noticing just how blue his eyes were. The glow of them under the fluorescents actually knocked the wind out of you, freezing your body in place over him as you took them in, feeling like you might drown in them if you stared too long, but letting the waves pull you under anyway.

“Morning,” he lips curved into a smile that was so handsome it almost made you forget your mission.

Grasping at your reason for coming in here like it was a lifeboat, you decided to use the compromising position you had him in to your advantage, leaning a little closer as you said, “I need you.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up in shock, was this really about to happen, right here in your parent’s laundry room?

“Oh yeah?” He flirted, muscles tensing in anticipation beneath you. “What do you need, hmm?”

“Just say yes and I’ll tell you,” you purposefully dropped your voice lower, adding a tinge of suggestion to your words to really bring it home.

“Anything,” he agreed, his mind five miles ahead of you in the wrong direction.

You sat up, straddling him, and pulled the list of tasks from your pocket.

“Great, get dressed, we’re leaving in five,” you smiled down at him, relishing the completely baffled look on his face. “We’re gonna save Christmas.”

“No, we don’t have time to stop, we gotta stick to the list,” you protested as Rafe turned the car off the road and pulled into a drive thru.

After tricking him into agreeing to help you, you’d rushed him through getting ready and out of the house, convinced the stores would be packed as soon as they opened. He dragged his feet the whole way, but somehow you’d managed to wrangle him into the car, insisting he drive so you could look through some catalogs to map out gifts for your brothers.

“If I have to be up at the asscrack of dawn, I’m getting coffee,” he shot you down.

“Okay, fine, but if we get there and all the good deals are gone, I’m blaming you,” you conceded.

You tapped your knee anxiously as the line of cars in the drive thru crawled like a herd of snails. Rafe watched your fingers strum out of the corner of his eye, noticing for the first time the way your nails were bitten down to the beds. He wasn’t paying much attention, but he was fairly sure they weren’t that messed up yesterday.

“What do you want to order?” He asked, unsure why but suddenly only caring about finding a way to distract you.

Without needing to look at the menu, you recited, “venti blonde americano with two extra shots of espresso and a splash, like a really small splash, of oat milk. Actually no oatmilk. And four shots.”

Rafe blinked back at you, your fidgety fingers lifted to your lips as you chewed on your cuticles.

Pulling up to the speaker, he leaned in and said, “yeah grande black coffee for me, and uh, a tall green tea please.”

“That is not what I ordered!” you snipped as he pulled forward to the first window.

“Yeah, I’m cutting you off,” he explained. “If I let you have any more caffeine, you won’t have any fingernails left.”

You dropped your hand quickly, surprised that he had noticed. You were miffed that he was denying you your coffee, but he was probably right. You took a deep breath and sipped your tea as he drove to the first stop on your list.

Somewhere along the highway, the radio jingled the familiar first notes of All I Want For Christmas is You. You sat up, excitedly reaching to turn the volume up.

“If I have to listen to this song one more time, I swear I’m gonna drive the car off this bridge,” he groaned, his hand covering yours to stop you from making his misery louder.

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic,” you raised your eyebrows, giving in and returning your hand to your lap. “She’s the queen of Christmas!”

“Please,” he gave you a pouty lip from the driver’s seat. “It’s killing me.”

“Okay, fine,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “No more Mariah Carey.”

The department store parking lot was swarming with last minute shoppers. You hated that you belonged with them, punished for procrastination. Usually you did things early and thoroughly, now people would think you were one of the careless who pushed things to the last minute. It was a silly thing to worry about, but everything seemed to worry you today. You even made Rafe exchange phone numbers with you in case one of you got lost in the crowd and you couldn’t find each other. Your mind was running wild with worst case scenarios.

Rafe found a spot far from the door, as you walked towards the store’s entrance, you flipped through the catalog you’d snatched from your parent’s junkmail.

“Okay, so I circled everything that’s similar to what’s on the boys’ lists but on clearance,” you explained to him as he grabbed a cart, not fully listening to you. “We’ve got like fifty dollars for each of them, I think we can find a couple good things.”

Once inside the door, Rafe immediately grabbed a bag of chocolates off of the stocking stuffers display.

“That’s not on the list,” you reminded him, jaw dropping when he opened the bag and started eating the candy right there in the middle of the aisle. “And you didn’t pay for that!”

“Relax,” he held the bag out to you, “have some chocolate. Get into the Christmas spirit.”

“Since when are you the expert on the ‘Christmas spirit?’” You eyed him, noticeably not accepting a piece of his stolen candy. “You just threatened to throw Mariah Carey off a bridge.”

“No, I said I was gonna throw myself off a bridge if I had to listen to her one more time,” he placed his hand over his chest as if he was proving his innocence. “Besides, one of us has to have a little joy,” he noted, tilting his head a little to emphasize his point.

He was right, you were stressing a little too much. If Rafe Cameron was out-Christmasing you, then clearly you needed an attitude adjustment.

“You’re right,” you sighed, accepting one of his chocolates and popping it in your mouth as you looked around the store to map out your shopping plan. “Alright, aisle ten for Reese’s camera lens and then aisle four for Benny’s lego-”

Your sentence was cut short at the feeling of Rafe’s thumb on the corner of your mouth, his face cool and casual as the pad of his finger ran across your lip. Your eyes shot around, there were at least a dozen people in this section, all close enough to see him circling your mouth with his finger.

Before you could push him off, not that you really wanted to, he pulled back. You stumbled a bit, subconsciously chasing the feeling of his touch. He revealed his thumb to you, he’d collected a little glob of chocolate that had smeared around your mouth.

“You’re gonna get us caught for our little shoplifting scheme,” he joked, licking the chocolate off the pad of his thumb as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and not an incredibly sensual action for a fluorescent lit department store at 7am.

“W-we are not shoplifting,” you stammered, fighting speechlessness and praying he didn’t notice the way your cheeks were burning. “You better pay for those.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. I’ll pay for them, I promise. But if I forget, I’m saying you took them.” He dropped the chocolates into the cart before you could protest and wheeled toward the first aisle on your list, making you scurry a bit to catch up with his long legs.

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

Somewhere between the frozen food section and the office supplies aisle, you actually started having fun.

Your cart filled slowly, the rush you were in when you entered the store slowing with every moment that passed walking around the store with Rafe. You joked about the hideous holiday decor, and the cheesy romance novel shelf. You stood on the back of the cart as he wheeled you around, nearly taking out a display of canned goods, and got a stern warning from a stock boy that sent you both into a fit of mischievous laughter. He tried on a series of truly awful hats for you, and even let you snap a few pictures.

As you laughed and shopped together, you couldn’t help but notice the cheery looks of the older ladies that passed you in the aisles. You returned their friendly glances with a blush, wondering, though it made you feel like a silly schoolgirl, if they thought Rafe was your boyfriend.

You’d remind yourself how foolish the thought was as you checked items off your list, seeing as this was not the real Rafe Cameron. The real Rafe Cameron wouldn’t be caught dead shopping for gardening gloves and barbeque tongs for your parents, he’d rather be pregaming a party or kicking the girl from last night who’s name he’d already forgotten out of bed.

And yet, here he was, pushing the cart while you rattled on about Christmas when you were seven when it snowed so hard the power went out, the last time you remembered actually having a white Christmas. The way he nodded along intently had you actually wondering if it could be real, if being with him could be more than just a distraction from a stressful morning.

Your thoughts spiraled even further when he stopped to point out a his and hers sweater set, one reading “naughty” and the other “nice.”

“As long as I get to be the nice one,” you smiled as he pulled the itchy wool over his head.

He leaned down to tug its partner over your head, his voice low in your ear, “Only ‘cause I know you like it when I’m naughty.”

Butterflies did pirouettes in your stomach, you snapped a picture of the two of you in a mirror, Rafe towering over you from behind as he smiled for the camera.

“Yeah, we’re definitely buying these,” he said, tucking the tag into your collar, his knuckles ghosting over the skin of your neck.

After a few more shenanigans, you realized two hours had passed, and you still had several more items on your list.

“How about this? For your brothers?” Rafe asked, pointing out an Xbox in a display case.

You snorted, “there’s no planet on which my brother’s would think that actually came from our parents. They’re still using an old PlayStation someone gave us years ago.”

“Well then I’ll get it for them, you can say it came from Santa,” he shrugged, as if the astronomical price tag below it didn’t even exist.

“Our Santa brings, like, socks and candy. He doesn’t have a black card,” you pulled his arm, guiding him to a cheaper aisle.

“And what does your Santa usually bring you?” He questioned, a not so subtle way to find out what you wanted for Christmas.

“I don’t ask him for much,” you brushed the question off. “I just want my family all together.”

Rafe didn’t push any further, watching you out of the corner of his eye, realization dawning that you were serious, you actually didn’t expect to get any gifts for Christmas.

Not noticing his eyes on you, you scanned over everything in your cart, adding it up on your phone’s calculator for the hundredth time. You couldn’t remember a day in your life you weren’t worried about money. Every penny counts now more than ever with your mom not working and your dad unable to find a job that pays enough to keep everyone afloat without completely running himself into the ground.

Without realizing it, you brought your fingertips back to your mouth, biting your nails anxiously for the first time since Rafe had pointed out the bad habit several hours ago.

“Hey you know what?” Rafe said, and you were so lost in worried thoughts that you flinched at the sound of his voice. “Why don’t we split up to get the rest of the list? We’ll cover more ground that way. Also, I think I saw some fake trees on sale back there, so I can grab one.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling the little bubble of your flirty shopping spree pop.

He was clearly ready to be done with this little excursion. But you’d had more fun than you thought you would, and there were still several days of break left to enjoy with him. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built around your heart swaying just a little bit in his wind. The thought terrified and thrilled you all at the same time.

After collecting your half of the gift list, you searched the store for Rafe. You found him in the jewelry section, leaning against the glass display case. You made your way towards him, prepared to tease him for wasting time in a section that wasn’t on the list, before you saw his reason for being there. You stopped short, ducking behind an inflatable Santa to watch with a disappointed glare.

He was chatting up a pretty sales girl, her store uniform fitted tightly as she smiled down at him, her cheeks rosy pink and pretty smile blindingly white.

Rafe gave her the charming grin you’d begun to hope he only reserved for you, probably drawling some cheeky compliments to cause her to blush in the way you surely did when he talked to you.

The feeling in your chest was unfamiliar, and painfully uncomfortable. Reluctantly, you identified it as jealousy. No, no, you were not jealous over this obnoxious frat boy, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be. That was not how you were gonna start your Christmas break.

Just as you’d resolved not to be jealous, he reached up and brushed his hand against the necklace she was wearing, admiring her jewelry surely just as an excuse to bring his hand close to her chest. She beamed at him, his attempts at flirting clearly working.

A deep frown settled on your features. He was supposed to be shopping for your little brothers and instead he was feeling up a sales girl? You felt so delusional for thinking you’d misjudged him on the drive down. He was the same guy you thought he was when he showed up at your car yesterday, you should've trusted your gut.

Hoping he wouldn’t catch you watching, you turned quickly on your heel, beelining for check out.

Taking the bag from the sales girl with a wink, Rafe tucked the small item at the bottom of his cart, under the presents he’d collected for your brothers, and began searching for you in the crowded aisles, looking forward to the pleased look on your face when he informed you he’d found everything on his half of the list.

When he found you, you were already half way through checking out, loading items onto the belt and watching with tense shoulders as the total on the screen climbed higher and higher.

“What, were you gonna leave without me?” Rafe joked as he started adding his items to the belt.

“We’re on a schedule, we don’t have time to keep fucking around,” you grumbled.

Rafe met eyes with the college-aged guy who was working as cashier, both of them flashing knowing smirks as if to say, “chicks, am I right, man?” Their boyish camaraderie made you even angrier.

Once your cart was empty, you started to help Rafe empty his cart, but he jumped around to the front before you could, blocking your access.

“No, no, I got it,” he said nervously, his body blocking you from reaching into his cart.

Irritation crept up your chest, threatening to take over completely. You suddenly felt so petty and immature, like you were Benny’s age, knowing you were about to say something rude you’d later regret.

“Fine!” You shoved the cash your dad had given you in Rafe’s hands, “I’ll just go pull the car around then.”

Rafe watched you leave through the store’s sliding glass doors, arms crossed as you exited to the parking lot, which was wet and slippery from the wintery sleet mix that had started falling at some point when you were in the store. You paused and huffed deeply, annoyed by the shift in weather, throwing the hood of your jacket up as you jogged across the lot to your car.

He had no idea what had changed in the thirty minutes you’d been shopping separately. There had been a moment earlier when he thought he’d finally won you over, and now you were back to treating him like he was the bane of your existence.

“This too?” The cashier asked, holding out the decorative mistletoe Rafe had thrown in the bottom of his cart, thinking he could work in some cheeky joke with you and get that perfect eye roll/reluctant smile expression you make that he’d become a little obsessed with.

“Yeah, sure, whatever man,” he agreed with a frown.

As promised, you brought the car around, giving Rafe the cold shoulder as you loaded the gifts into the trunk. When you got to the fake tree Rafe had snagged from the holiday section, you paused.

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

“A tree?” He snapped back. “I told you I was gonna grab one.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we have to get a real tree.”

Rafe looked up at the sky pointedly, the worsening weather causing shoppers around you to duck and run to their car to get out of the misery.

“Are you serious?” He grumbled. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It just…it has to be real, okay?” You huffed. “I found the last tree lot in the county that still has Douglas Firs, so you can take this one back.”

“Why don’t we keep this one just in case you change your mind,” he suggested.

“Fine, keep it, but I’m not changing my mind,” you threw the box with the fake tree into the trunk and slammed it closed, nearly catching Rafe’s hand in the heavy door as you did.

You stomped around to the driver’s side, leaving Rafe to return the carts to the main entrance, his jaw clenched in frustration the whole way. What had started as disappointment in your change in demeanor had turned into full-on anger. He may not be your favorite person, but you weren’t the only one having a shitty Christmas, and he definitely didn’t think he deserved whatever the fuck this was.

“I’m telling you, it was veer left, not turn left!”

The windshield wipers were working overtime, squeaking against the glass as they tried and failed to keep the freezing rain out of your line of vision. You sat all the way forward in your seat to see through the watery streaks they left behind. You had pulled onto some muddy back road as Rafe read directions from the GPS, trying to find this obscure tree lot several miles outside of town.

“Veer left doesn’t make any sense, I know that road, it’s all factories and empty lots,” you waved him off.

“Okay, well it’s clearly not this road! Is this even a road? It’s like a fucking swamp out here, I don’t know how your tires are even still moving,” He argued back.

“Not everything around here is as nice here as it is in the Outer Banks, Rafe. We’re doing our best, sorry if we don’t meet Cameron standards,” you griped at him.

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, just admit you’re fucking lost,” he snipped back.

“I am not lost. It’s probably just taking me on a shortcut. The road will clear up any minute.”

As you said those fateful words, the road got even more unstable, dirt and gravel mixing with the precipitation to make what looked more like a vat of chocolate pudding than a road.

Stubbornly, you accelerated, determined to get out of this patch of road and prove to him you were right. As you sped up, the steering wheel turned erratically under your hands, your tires skidding on the slippery road, eventually stopping movement at all.

“Hmm interesting,” Rafe quipped sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you try to navigate the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“It’s fine, I just need to…” you accelerated more, your spinning back tire kicking up mud as it fought for forward motion.

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

POP! The car skidded forward violently just an inch before stopping altogether, the weight of it sinking underneath you as a loud whistling noise echoed from the rear tire.

“- blow your tire,” Rafe threw his hands up in exasperation as the low tire pressure light on your dash illuminated with a little ‘ding!’

You avoided his eyes, hands still clutching the steering wheel as you clenched your jaw in anger.

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack.

“Me?” He scoffed, looking around the car as if there was someone he could look to for confirmation that you were being insane. “How is this my fault?”

“You’re rushing me! I know how to drive on back roads but you were distracting me!” You were grasping at straws, you knew it, he knew it, but logic had flown out the window when the tire blew.

Rafe just chuckled humorlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s just call someone and -”

But you were already opening your door, booted foot landing with a squelch in the mud.

“What are you doing?” He called after you.

You leaned down to look at him through your cracked door, “never changed a tire before, rich boy?” With a smirk, you slammed the door in his face.

Scrambling in the mud behind you, Rafe tried to reason with you.

“It’s pouring, you’re gonna get sick! Please just let me call someone and we can get a tow home - ”

“We still have to get the tree,” you shut him down, loosening the spare tire from the back of the hatchback.

Rafe threw his hands out in disbelief, “you’re not serious right? You’re still trying to find this fucking farm that, I gotta tell you, I’m starting to think doesn’t even exist.”

“Yes,” you said simply, lowering the tire to the ground and pulling the lug wrench from the trunk.

“You might actually be the most stubborn, ridiculous person I’ve ever met. What is it about getting this tree?” He yelled over the steadily increasing rainfall.

“Because, Rafe, I can!” You dropped the wrench in the mud and turned on him, tears stinging your eyes as you yelled, letting all your frustration out on this boy, who just yesterday was a stranger. “I can’t get my dad a better job, and I can’t buy my brothers the presents the really want, and I can’t cure fucking cancer! But I can get a goddamn Douglas Fir, like we have every year since I was born. So I’m getting this tree! You can call your new friend from he jewelry department to come pick you up, but I’m staying here and changing this fucking tire!”

Standing back, Rafe buried his hands in his coat pockets, nodding along as you let it all out, the loose threads all twisting to finally weave together an explanation for your shift in mood. He spotted the tears as you mentioned your powerlessness over your dad’s job and your mom’s cancer, feeling like he was starting to understand your stubborn insistence to make this cursed Christmas joyful.

Though he knew he should be comforting you, he couldn’t help the little upward twitch of his lips at your comment about the jewelry girl. That explained your mood at check out, and if he was being honest, made his heart leap a little at the thought of you actually being jealous for his attention.

After several moments of his eyes on you, sizing you up as he digested your outburst, you suddenly felt exposed, and a little silly, “what?” you asked him with a burning blush.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin, leaning down to pick the wrench up from the mud, “just didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

Your jaw fell slack, out of all you’d just said, of course he was zeroing in on your comment about the girl in the store. You were somewhat relieved though, glad to have an excuse to move on from talking about all the sad, stressful things going on at home.

“You’re such an ass,” you laughed, the air between you growing a little lighter. “I bet people call you that a lot.”

Rafe knelt down in the mud, beginning to loosen the screws of the flat tire.

“Not everyone, some people go with ‘lost puppy’,” he muttered under his breath.

Your smile fell from your lips, your eyes grew as you realized he was quoting you back to you. He had heard you talking about him to your brothers last night. You replayed all your words in your head with a wince - laughing about how he was like the kid from Home Alone, saying you only brought him home because you felt awkward. God, now you felt like an ass.

“Rafe, I’m…I’m so sorry, that was not cool…”

“It’s fine,” he said, a small grunt leaving him as he used the wrench to loosen a particularly rusted bolt.

“No, it’s not. We shouldn’t have been laughing. I didn’t just bring you home because I felt bad-”

“Why did you then?” He stopped what he was doing, his eyes landing on yours so suddenly, you jumped back a bit, taken by the striking blue, and the vulnerability you were seeing in them for the first time.

Deciding it was time to get your own jeans muddy, you knelt down next to him, hands wrapping around the wrench handle next to his to help him pull, both of you struggling due to the rain making the wrench so slippery.

The bolt still didn’t budge, and you paused for a minute, sitting back on your heels and looking at him.

“Because it’s Christmas,” you answered his question. “And I wanted to spend it with a friend.”

The tips of his ears burned red, he hoped you’d think it was just from the cold.

Going in for a second try, you both tugged on the wrench again, gritted teeth and white knuckles as you combined your strength to turn it as hard as you could. Frosted rain slipping between the end of the wrench and the bolt made it slip, the metal flying through the air. You and Rafe both slipped in the mud under your knees, Rafe trying to catch himself on his hands so he didn’t land on top of you, but not quite in time. His large body landed on top of yours and you both went tumbling down the side of the road, landing side by side in the muddy ditch with an unsettling squelch.

Both of you completely covered in mud, panting and shocked, Rafe turned his head to look at you, “fake tree?”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly agreed. “Fake tree.”

You and Rafe snuck in through the garage, both of you tracking mud with every step. There was no way you’d make it all the way up to the bathroom without destroying the floors in your wake.

You’d laughed together the entire drive back to the house. What a disaster the shopping trip had turned into, and yet, you were more in the Christmas spirit now than you had been in a long, long time.

“Oh shit,” you yelped, slipping on your own muddy boot and knocking down a pile of boxes as you tried to stabilize yourself.

Rafe’s arms shot out to catch you, your nails digging into his forearms to hold yourself up. You eyed him, still wearing the “naughty” sweater you hoped he’d remembered to pay for.

“Well these are ruined,” you sighed, looking down at your own mud-soaked pullover. “And there’s no way we’re making it upstairs without tracking in mud.”

Before your sentence was even finished, Rafe was hooking his hands into the collar, pulling the sweater up and off with one pull, peeling off the soaked t-shirt underneath it, too.

Failing miserably to hide your shock at his sculpted form, you bit your lip to silence the gasp that was begging to escape. He was just as built as you expected, if not more. His abs creased in a perfect set of six, sturdy pecs and two thick blue veins running through each bicep. He was somehow tan in the middle of December, and his skin was perfectly smooth apart from the little line of rough hair that ran from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans.

He caught you staring, of course he did, and smirked as he flustered you further by unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor in a muddy heap, left in only his black boxer-briefs.

Frozen in place, you subconsciously pulled your sleeves down over your hands, as if covering yourself up more could clear the cloud of attraction fogging your brain. Rafe turned and walked towards the door that led into the house.

“Wha-where are you going?” You asked him, snapped out of your trance.

“To take a shower,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’m fucking freezing, but you can stay here and drip.”

He smiled at you expectantly, there was a challenging dip in his voice as he over pronounced the last word. Something competitive rose in your chest, he clearly didn’t think you had it in you to strip down, too. At the end of the day, you were a classic oldest child - you didn’t take kindly to losing.

Keeping your eyes locked to him, you grabbed the hem of your sweater and pulled it off over your head, copying him by pulling the shirt underneath off too until you were standing in front of him in just your bra. Rafe tilted his head as his eyes raked over you, raising his eyebrows when he got to your jeans, just as muddy and destroyed as his had been.

With a hard swallow, you undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, shimmying your hips a little to pull the wet denim over your curves. Rafe went pale and speechless, taking in the little show with a heavy rise and fall of his chest. You piled all of your clothes in the corner, hoping no one in your family stumbled upon them before you had the chance to wash them.

Rafe didn’t even try to hide the way he was drinking you in as you padded towards him in your underwear, brushing past him to get to the door first.

“I mean, damn,” he wolf-whistled at you, quietly so no one inside the house came looking for the sound.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, stepping ahead of him so he couldn’t see your pleased smile.

He followed your tiptoed steps through the hall and up the stairs, stopping at each corner to make sure no one was going to come around it and catch the two of you sneaking around in your underwear.

Once you made it to the upstairs bathroom, you turned on the shower, excited to step into the steamy water and finally warm up. You were surprised to find Rafe still standing in the open doorway when you turned, sure he’d get the hint that he should wait outside when it came time for you to really strip down.

“What are you doing?” You whisper-scolded him.

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pushing him by his chest so he stumbled back into the hall. “I don’t need your help for this pa-”

Your sentence was cut short by the creaking of wood under incoming footsteps. Panicking, you grabbed Rafe’s wrist, pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“Woah, is this really happening?” He asked breathlessly, licking his lips before you slapped your hand over his mouth to shut him up, his eyes going wide at your boldness.

“Someone’s coming,” you mouthed, urging him to be quiet as you kept your palm firmly sealed over his lips.

The footsteps in the hall grew louder, their owner getting closer and closer to the door, not knowing you had a half-naked man pushed up against the other side as steam swirled around your bare bodies.

As you both waited with baited breath, your eyes drifted over Rafe’s body, so close to yours in the tiny bathroom. You couldn’t help it, sure that desire was painted all over your features. There was no use in denying it, as the warm steam caused a single drop of sweat to roll down his chest and into the ripple of his abs, you finally allowed yourself to accept that you wanted him, bad.

He felt it too, you were sure of it, his eyes half closed with heavy lids as he looked down over you, drinking in all the exposed skin and soft lace of your underwear set.

Just as his hand slowly started rising toward your hip, a knock on the other side of the door made you both jump, a little yelp of surprise almost leaving your lips before Rafe threw his hand over your mouth, the tables turned.

“Hey Gigs?” Benny’s little voice called from the other side of the door.

You tried to move Rafe’s hand from your mouth, but he only allowed you to lift it enough to respond before covering your lips again.

“Y-yeah, Beans?” Your voice cracked in response, Rafe flashing you a teasing grin at your flustered state. You shot him a warning look, praying your little brother couldn’t sense what was going on.

“Can we open the presents you bought us now, pleaseee?” Benny asked.

Normally you’d say no, that they had to wait until Christmas day. But as you were about to reject his request, Rafe pulled his hand from your mouth, letting his thumb tug your bottom lip down as he dragged his fingers to your jaw and brushed the soft skin of your neck. You could tell by his wicked grin he was enjoying seeing how far he could push you, drunk off your blushes and gasps.

“Yes, sure, th-that’s fine,” you told Benny, eager to get him away from the door. Rafe chuckled quietly at your compliance, making you clench your jaw even harder in annoyance at him.

“Sweet, thanks!” Benny called, hurrying back downstairs, clearly not having expected you to give him the answer he wanted.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you glared up at Rafe, “you can’t do that!”

He threw his head back in satisfied laughter, bringing it back down only to drop his lips close to your ear.

“So, how about that shower?” He whispered.

With a little grin of your own, you leaned in too, “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

Rafe managed to find his way back to the laundry room without bumping into any of your brothers. He ran his hair under the utility sink faucet to get the flecks of mud out, throwing on some clean, warm clothes before heading to the kitchen in search of a much needed glass of water, his mouth still full of cotton at the thought of you nearly naked in front of him.

As he rounded into the kitchen, he stopped short, surprise flashing across his face.

A painfully thin woman, who he could only assume to be your mother, stood in the middle of the small space, bony hands on the back of an empty kitchen chair. Her bald head was wrapped in a silky scarf, and she smiled an easy grin that reminded him so stunningly of yours.

“You must be Rafe,” she said. “Have a seat.”

(to be continued)

a/n: okay not the single longest post I've ever made on this website. period. thank u for reading!! two more parts w the last taking place on New Year's Eve. merry everything!!

taglist note: the taglist for this series will be posted in replies asap and has gotten very long so it is closed. I'm soooo thankful that ppl want to know when I post you have no idea! but it takes me a long time to do and makes posting difficult, so I am asking that in order to stay on the list for the rest of the series, you interact with each post in some way (reply with feedback, a rb, an ask - anything you'd like!) it really helps me as a writer! thank you!!

if you missed the taglist, just follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs to be first to know when I post!

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 4 months ago

Note

i am living for some angst 👀

especially some satoru angst

Hold me. Console me.

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of poor mental health, depiction of a panic attack, Satoru’s a little bit of an asshole here.

An: Same… same. Before you read this and blame me for how fucked this story is, know that one of my moots (cough. cough. @theuniversesnepobaby cough.) was sending me sad angsty edits last night. this is partially her fault too.

Satoru was normally a very doting and attentive boyfriend. He’s the type to beg to be in your presence. He’d kill to feel your touch against his skin. “Casual” isn’t a word in his dictionary. When he loves, he loves loudly.

So when he got quiet with his love, your body started to fill with a sense of dread. Cold and bitter feelings crawled their way between you two. No longer did you two laugh until you were out of breath and red in the face. No longer did he surprise you with gifts or try to scare you when you’re unaware of his presence.

His strong arms hadn’t wrapped around you in so long. The ruthless chill of being utterly alone plagued you, while Satoru seemed fine. He was even taking on extra hours at his job. So many nights he didn’t come back until nearly midnight.

How could he not see what’s happening? How could he not notice how much you’re drowning?

“I’m going out.” His words are flat with no care put into them. He’s telling you because he feels as if it’s obligatory — not because he doesn’t want you to worry.

“Where are you going?” So many times have you tried to reach out. It was as if you two were passing back and forth a candle of your relationship. You had ignited the flame and passed it to him so many times, but each time, he snuffs it out without a second thought — leaving you in the dark. Maybe one more time, you metaphorically light the candle in hopes to kinder your relationship…

“Out.” Flame snuffed.

“Oh.” He’s done it so many times, but it hurts just as bad each and every time. Being single wouldn’t hurt this bad. At least you wouldn’t be getting rejected by your own boyfriend on a daily basis.

“See ya.” He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he grabs his coat and saunters out the door. Another night spent alone. Another night filled with a barely eaten tv dinner and a shitty reality tv show droning on in the back while you doomscroll on your phone.

You two use to watch these reality tv shows together and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Satoru would hold you so close to his body, and he’d whine anytime you tried to adjust. When was the last time that happened? You never suspected the end of affectionate gestures would come while you two were still in a relationship.

You check Geto’s story on instagram. Sometimes, you’d catch small glimpses of Satoru in the back. Sometimes they were at a cafe or an arcade together. Tonight, it seemed as though Suguru was at very packed party scene.

You hold your breath in your lungs as you rewatch the story again and again — searching for a white head of hair. Your boyfriend makes it too easy for you to stalk him. Though, it feels like a fitting punishment for the turmoil he’s put you through.

No Satoru in sight. You sigh quietly before you check Shoko’s story. It was less likely that Satoru would be captured there, but he has made his appearances in the past. It seemed like tonight Shoko wasn’t present at whatever rager Suguru was at. She posted a picture of her beautifully written notes. She must be studying.

Nanami never posts on his story, so you don’t even bother going to check his barren profile. Haibara never features Satoru in his stories, so you skip his as well. This leaves you with one last option.

Your hand is a little shaky as you click on Utahime’s story. You don’t know when it started, but your cheeks and ears were wet with tears already. Your body had some sort of sick sixth sense for knowing when something was wrong, and something was terribly wrong.

You had always had your little insecurities about Utahime ever since Satoru indulged that he had a small crush on her back in high school. Of course, these were just fleeting thoughts. Up until recently, you knew with full confidence that you had Satoru’s heart. He wouldn’t stray from you.

You didn’t have that same confidence anymore. Satoru had withdrawn, and it seemed as if he took his heart with him.

You hate being right. You wish you were wrong sometimes. On Utahime’s story, she’s seemingly at the same party that Suguru’s at. Her story is littered with pictures of her with other girls that you don’t recognize, videos of the loud music and people dancing in a crowd, and there’s just one last video on her story that makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Your boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes illuminated by the flash from her back camera. He smiled and laughed as Utahime filmed him. His face was littered with wine red lipstick kiss marks. Utahime had a grab on your boyfriend’s collar, obviously trying to hold his drunk self still while she filmed his crime.

It felt like a punch straight to your gut. You couldn’t even think straight, but you knew you needed to keep this evidence in case she deletes it. Your fingers shakily screenshot the story, logging the picture of Satoru covered in someone else’s affections.

He was out there feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, receiving kisses from another, dancing to his heart’s content, and enjoying his life while you were sat at home weeping over the loss of your boyfriend.

The tv dinner, now cold and stale, was thrown into the garbage, and whatever little bit you had eaten came up soon after.

The picture was seared into your memory. You didn’t have to look at it to know every minor detail. The way his white hair was messy. His glasses were pulled down ever so slightly to reveal his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His coat hung on his shoulders while his muscular neck peaked out from his shirt.

Every time you closed your eyes, you thought about how many kiss marks he had on his face. How many times had he allowed himself to cheat on you? Was this the first time? Had it gone farther than this? Was it Utahime or some other girl?

You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that Satoru wouldn’t even come home to try to console you.

The next morning, you were disappointed as soon as you woke up. You wished sleep would’ve taken your body and whisked it away far, far from here. Instead, you’re still in your bed, sleeping on a pillow that was stained from your mascara.

If you could, you’d rot in bed all day and try to forget the godforsaken video you saw last night, but you had to make a trip to the restroom.

Forcing your weak body out of bed, you let out a small pained moan. You haven’t eaten a proper meal in so long, and you threw up whatever you did eat yesterday. Your appetite was completely diminished. Satoru use to say that food tasted better when it was shared. He always shared his meals with you, unbeknownst to him, helping you maintain a good schedule for eating.

Your apartment was too bright when you stepped out of the bathroom, and it smelled too much of food. The sizzling on the stove finally caught your drowsy attention.

The man of the hour, Satoru, was at your stove, shirtless and cooking something. Sleeping pants casually hung around his hips, and the dimples at the bottom of his back were so graciously being shown off. Did someone else know about those two little dimples? Even though back was facing you, you could already picture his face, littered with those stupid kiss marks.

Making a b-line for the bathroom, Satoru doesn’t even get the chance to greet you. Your hands were cold and clammy as your body uncontrollably heaved over the toilet. You had nothing left to give, but Satoru was taking everything from you.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they slipped down your face. You didn’t want to do this. You wished you would’ve never saw that fucking video last night. You should’ve given yourself plausible deniability, but now, you had to face the music.

You slowly returned back to the kitchen after trying your best to clean yourself up. Your eyes focused on Satoru. He was finishing up cooking bacon when his eyes finally met yours and drove daggers through your heart.

“Good morning, sweetness. Something wrong?” He asks with so much care in his tone. You fantasize about hitting him — just once. How dare he suddenly care when you have to check out?

You don’t even know what to say to him. Like, yes, something is clearly fucking wrong, Satoru. I’m dating an unfaithful jerk.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly, wiping your face of the remnants of tears and makeup that had stained your skin. He shouldn’t be allowed to see how badly he hurt you.

“I… live here?” He responds in a questioning tone, furrowing his white eyebrows as he studies your face. “Are you okay?” If only he had asked that question weeks ago, then maybe you two wouldn’t be in this mess today.

“No, and you don’t live here anymore.” You snap, causing him to slightly flinch back — not out of fear but out of surprise. He’s never seen you like this before.

“What do you mean, sweetness? I-“

“Cut the shit, Gojo. Don’t act stupid with me. It’s unbecoming.” You interrupt him completely, not wanting to hear him try to act innocent when you have all the proof you need on your phone.

“Woah. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t really appreciate the insult and the use of my government name. I genuinely have no idea of what you’re talking about.” His voice is firm, laced with sternness, so you can see that he’s not playing around with you.

You take a deep breath until your lungs burn. You want to scream at him, chase him out of the house, and light his shit on fire. Instead, you silently go to retrieve your phone. Pulling up the picture of him with kiss marks all over his face, you shove the screen in his direction.

Gojo takes a few seconds to take in the photo, and he lets his shoulders drop. “This is what you’re mad over, sweetness?” He asks in a much more calm tone, looking up at you with almost puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap while swiping your phone back from his hands. “I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you, but we’re fucking done.”

“You seriously believe that I would cheat on you?” He asks in that stupid arrogant tone of his, completely ignoring your blunt rejection.

“Why else would your high school crush post a picture of you with kiss marks all over your face!? You look so fucking dumb and in love. I fucking-“ Your throat chokes up as if your body was trying to stop you from saying something you didn’t mean. The words “I fucking hate you” die right there on your lips. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you place your palms over your eyes to hide yourself from his impregnable gaze.

“This, again?” He asks in a frustrated tone before letting out an exasperated sigh, He turns the stove off - abandoning his food before walking over to you. He bends his knees a bit to get on your level. “Look at me.” He demands before his hands go to pull yours away from your eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You cry out, jerking back away from his presence. Your breath speeds up. The oxygen isn’t having enough time to enter your bloodstream. Your body is vibrating, forcing the air quickly from your lungs. Everything is moving so fast and why the fuck is he so close to you-? He’s suffocating. Fuck, catch your breath. Whyhim?Whyyou?Why?Why?Whatdidyoudotodeservethis???

A gush of air is blown harshly onto your face, and you can feel the bitter cold feeling of something touching your skin. Your eyes see Satoru’s hand holding an ice cube, guiding it along your warm skin on your arm. Your body is so hot that it’s melting faster than he’s moving it.

“Breathe. Match my movements.” Satoru guides in a calm yet steady tone. Your eyes find the way his chest is slowly rising and falling with each breath. You want to tell him to go play in traffic. You don’t need him to ground you. You don’t need him to do anything for you. You don’t need him.

Still, your body matches his slowly. Your breath becomes more stable, and you can feel your heart starting to settle into a more natural rhythm. Your bleary eyes meet his empathetic ones. It’s been so long since your last panic attack, but he remembers just how to calm you down.

It only makes it all hurt so much worse.

“It’s almost over. You’re doing a good job.” He takes his chances at encouraging you. It feels so sickening, more tears flee your eyes. Where had your boyfriend been, and why is he only just now back after he did the unthinkable?

“Sing with me.” It’s an odd request, but it’s something he found that grounds you better than most grounding techniques. Saying repeatable phrases in melodic tone is comforting for your mind.

“No.”

“Come on… Just one time. Your favorite.” He tries again. Metaphorically, lighting the candle and passing it back to you.

You shake your head in response. Flame snuffed. How can you sing with him after what he did to you?

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe” He starts with such a soft angelic voice. You fold in on yourself unable to keep the sob from escaping your throat. What method of torture is this??

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” He continues, lighting that same candle. It’s so small, barely there anymore from how many times you two have tried to relight it.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” The ice cube has completely melted, and his hand is resting on your arm. He slowly guides you to his chest, and you indulge in his warm embrace for just one last time.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” His chin rests on top of your head. You’ve always fit so well in his arms. He’d always tell you that whatever higher power is out there made you specifically with him in mind.

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” His skin is so warm against yours, and your tears are sticking to your chest.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” You finally indulge him, softly joining in on his singing. His body slowly starts to guide you two into a soft subtle sway.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” It’s not that easy. This fucking hurts so bad. Why would your soulmate do this to you?

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” You feel so pathetic — seeking out comfort from the one who hurt you this bad. If your friend could see you right now, she’d slap some sense into you.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.”

You’re sniffling softly into his chest, and his hand carefully pets your hair. “Those kiss marks weren’t from Utahime.” He explains in a soft tone. “We were filming a TikTok. The punchline of the joke was that Suguru and Haibara were the ones who kissed all over my face.”

You look up at him with an unsure look on your face, not understanding what he meant. Satoru carefully picks your phone up, and he clicks on Haibara’s Instagram story from last night.

Sure enough, Haibara posted a TikTok of him, Suguru, Satoru, and Utahime. The camera points at Satoru, showing the kiss marks on his face, and the sound plays. “Bro, what happened to your face? Did you do that?” The camera then pans to Utahime to which she mouths the words, “I did not do that.” The camera then pans to Haibara with smeared wine red lipstick on his lips who says, “Then, who did?” The camera is then panned towards Suguru. He also had wine red lipstick smeared on his lips. “Yeah, who?” The two boys start laughing along with Satoru, and the video cuts.

It only comforts your weary heart slightly.

“It was just a stupid TikTok… I should’ve consulted you or warned you… done anything to respect you.”

“This doesn’t take back how awfully cold you’ve been over the last few weeks…” You sniffle out quietly, and Satoru nods his head knowingly.

“I know, sweetness.. I know. I’ve been terrible.” His arms squeeze you a bit tighter — frightened that he was so close to loosing you, still scared of losing you.

“That’s not an apology… or even a reason.” You try to squirm from his grip, but Satoru holds you tighter.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetness.” He breathes out a shaky breath, and you realize the shakiness in his voice. Glancing up at him, you feel yourself clam up with the sight of tears in his eyes. Christ, his eyes are somehow even more blue when he cries. “Shit got crazy at work then-“

“You still had time to party it up with your friends. You left me without even telling me you love me.” You finally break away from his grasp. The cheating accusation was only the surface of the main problem.

“You know I love you…” His voice is small, and he wipes his eyes of the tears that are threatening to spill.

“Do I know that?”

“Don’t… don’t say that.. I love you more than life itself.” His shaky hands go to reach for you again, but you move back away from him.

“You’re only doing this because I’m leaving you. If I hadn’t mentioned it, you’d probably still be half assed ignoring me.” You stare at him, and your eyes start to water for the nth time today.

“That’s not…” Satoru bites his tongue, and he runs a hand through his messy white hair. “I came home this morning… saw the uneaten tv dinner in the trash… Your reality tv show was still playing in the background, and I saw how you fell asleep with your makeup messed up… I realized then how much I neglected you… I planned a full day for us to enjoy each other’s presence… Please, don’t leave me for this. I can fix this.”

“How did it feel to look at me everyday when I tried so fucking hard to reach you?”

“It killed me.” He breathes out, and he tries to reach for you again. “Please, I missed you so much. Work was just so fucking much, and I don’t know why I took that out on you.”

You stare at him, and you shake your head silently. “You should go, Gojo..” Your voice cracked as it physically pained you to tell him to leave. Your body craves him more than anything else in the world right now.

“No, please, princess. Don’t do this… I can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes… just don’t leave me…” Satoru’s on his knees, literally begging you not to leave him. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he bows his head to you.

It’s humiliating, but he’s so humiliatingly in love with you. He’s so dead serious. He’d do anything for you to stay with him.

“Toru..”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I-I don’t know why I did it. I just pulled away from you, and I don’t know how it happened. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened t-to me. Please. I can’t function without you.”

You stare at your boyfriend with concern as his head literally touches the floor beneath him. You don’t even know what to say to him. The thought of leaving him hurts so fucking bad. It steals the breath from your lungs.

“Please don’t leave me… puh…. please stay with me.” He’s groveling at your feet, unable to stop the tears that escape his eyes. The thought of living in a world where you aren’t his girlfriend… he wouldn’t. He’d be a shell of who he once was. He’s nothing without you.

You slowly sit on the floor in front of him, and your hands stroke his soft hair gently. Satoru’s breath slows as he finally gets a grip on his emotions. He realizes just how pathetic he looks. He slowly leans up, and he looks at you. Both of you looked like complete messes, and it was all his fault.

“I don’t deserve you,” He murmurs quietly. “but please, I can make this better… I love you so much, sweetness… I wouldn’t dream of ever cheating on you.”

“I don’t forgive you.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The metaphorical flame is so small and shaky, but if you two both shield it from the wind, it’ll be able to grow once more. “You have a lot to prove me, Toru.”

“I’ll spend every waking minute of my life fixing this. I promise you, sweets.”

and he did. Satoru went back to loving you loudly. He didn’t merely shield the flame from being blown out, he fanned it himself so it grew in intensity. He was back to doting on you constantly, and he did frequent check-ins to make sure you weren’t feeling neglected. He took frequent vacations from work with you. He usually took you two out on holidays to wherever your heart desired, but sometimes you two would use his vacation time to just lounge around the house and enjoy each other’s presence.

Your confidence slowly returned to you over time. It wasn’t easy by any means. It took many nights of Satoru’s consistent reassurance and overwhelming love and support for you to slowly start feeling comfortable in your relationship with him.

He put in the work, nourished your flame, and he never made you feel guilty for having a second thought because when he loves, he loves deeply. Casual is not his strong suit.

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #drabble #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo angst #satoru gojo #satoru angst #jjk angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru

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hamletthedane · 2 months ago

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I know I’m joking about how Wicked Part 2 is going to be insane compared to Part 1, but it actually is so interesting when viewed as separate second part of the story -

Because hear me out - imo, the end of Act 1 sets up where the lines in the sand are for the three key characters:

Elphaba chooses to follow her morals and reject the system, even to her own isolation and destruction. Her line is her dedication to “making good.”

Glinda, her foil, openly admits that she cannot turn down the allure of the system’s power and stability, even at the sacrifice of her morals and her closest friendship. Her line is her power and popularity.

Fiyero, further foiling Glinda, is the person who would have blindly said yes to Elphaba’s offer. He is completely, unquestioningly devoted to Elphaba - even to a fault - believing that she will always be good and choose the right thing (as she “doesn’t care what others think”).* His line is his unwavering loyalty to Elphaba.

*admittedly, this is less evident at the end of Act 1, but it’s made VERY clear within the first 5min of Act 2 so I’m counting it as an Act 1 arc

But then Act 2 forces them to respect the line they’ve decided to draw in increasingly devastating ways, and eventually forces them to violate their lines or have the lines destroy them:

Elphaba’s sacrifices turn her into a complete pariah, forcing her to lose everything she had and worked for in an instant. She fights every day for what she believes in, even though she sees it’s fruitless and only leading to the destruction of everything she loves. But Elphaba stands strong even against the Wizard’s temptation of leaving behind her failing cause. However, she’s finally pushed over her edge when one of the two people who still believed in her “goodness” dies for that belief. And it drives her to throw away every good intention and dive head-first into a pursuit of power and control. She must ultimately be influenced by Glinda to once again choose self-sacrifice for the greater good, giving up her power and dreams of normality in Oz. “Now it’s up to you, for both of us”

Glinda builds great political capital and becomes one of the most important, beloved characters in the nation. But nothing is real: she’s engaged to a man who clearly doesn’t love her, she’s openly decrying a woman who she clearly still loves herself, and the system she operates in troubles her even as she benefits from it. Elphaba again tempts her to leave, and Fiyero’s clear willingness to jump ship should be an even greater temptation, but she can’t leave it behind. Not until the very end of the story does she finally recreate the Ozdust dance: acting against her own self-interest to save Elphaba and take up the fire of her cause

Fiyero, to his credit, is the only person who cannot be pushed from his line. The very first chance he gets, he follows Elphaba blindly, despite hearing all these terrible things about her. Then he willingly sacrifices himself for her and her cause, and they torture him to (a fate worse than) death for it. And even when Elphaba really does go evil, he still believes that she will ultimately choose good. His loyalty to her is not well rewarded (see: fate worse than death), but he makes his sacrifice willingly. His belief destroyed him.

What I really like about the play’s story is that from all these different starting goals and motivations, every character is forced to give up everything that is dear to them - including their fundamental selves - by the end of the story. Yet, they all three still continue to overlap and influence each other in ways that lead them all to a choice of “making good” in the end. SO excited to see that played out on screen.

#wicked #Wicked meta #this was longer than intended but I had THOUGHTS and am currently bored in a deer blind #I’ll reread and edit later I’m sure this currently reads like shit

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unknownunidentified101 · 2 months ago

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ITS ME, NOT YOU

CHARACTER | Xavier, Zayne, Sylus and Rafayel x reader

SCENARIO | in which they confess their love for you after you wanted to move away from them

WARNINGS | hurt to comfort, suggestive?

ZAYNE

This is terrible. You groaned as your helmet was set on the rear end of your rigged bike. It was around midnight and you had received a call regarding your own physician.

Usually you wouldn’t mind picking up your estranged friend, Zayne, however your mind alerted you of your previous banter

Perhaps it was his late night shifts getting the better of him, regardless, his chilled persona faded at the mention of your work opportunities . Recently you had searched for a way to spice up your work life, taking in new commissions and staying up late.

These recent missions caused you to linger from doctor to doctor, leaving you to completely ghost Zayne for god knows how long. It didn’t bother you but it sure bothered him.

The way you preferred to visit another doctor or completely ignore his precautions and recklessly throw yourself into danger heated him to a breaking point.

Perhaps after getting use to your presence, Zayne yearned for more of it.

The only reason for your avoidance of him was because you wanted to ignore the blissful feelings of seeing him. Your relationship was strictly professional yet you find yourself fantasizing the presence of him.

You hated his cold personality yet you felt warm in those stern eyes when he brought up details that you had told him ages ago.

It was difficult maintaining your feelings for him, so in turn, you thought leaving him be would be for the better. This ended horribly however after he confronted you one day.

The confrontation left you storming out of his office after he continuously nagged you after every prolonged visit. It was hard to like someone that seemed to only want to make your life difficult.

Regardless, you roamed the empty streets of Linkon. Your eyes were peeled for any sight of the doctor. Surprisingly it wasn’t much of a challenge as the man seemed to be the outlier in an empty play ground

Your breath lingered in the foggy air for a moment, feet crunching towards the swinging man whose face was flushed with a red hue.

It was clear he had a few too many drinks, presumably from his colleagues. “ Zayne you’re going to catch a cold” you call out

Zayne’s head spins upwards, his eyes squint at you when you become more clearer to him.

“ you…” Zayne mutters a few words that are inaudible before you crouch in front of him

“ you are the girl from my dreams” he feels the need to point out. These words make you frown, ‘the girl of his dreams? What did he mean?’

“ it’s time to get you home” you ignore his murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in an attempt to support his standing weight

“ stop that” Zayne holds your wrist, halting your movements. “ stop what?” The purity in your voice makes Zayne focus back to your eyes

“ why do you avoid me?” You could smell Zayne’s intoxication, his eyebrows furrowed.

He was drunk, really drunk.

“ Zayne lets take you home” you try to focus on the matter at hand, rejecting your hand from his tight grip. Zayne’s hold on you was strong, balancing out in firm and being painless

“ these past few days, I worried about you. Whether you were eating well or if you missed me” Zayne’s voice softened, eyes pleading for some sort of reassurance from you as the moon coated him in its spell

“ and now you come back like none of that mattered” Zayne felt hurt, his breath being more ragged and shallow

“ Zayne you know I’m fine I just…been changing doctors because of my missions-“

“ so..? I’m your one and only physician. No place is far for me to go to you. I’m here to treat you” Zayne gently guided your hand to his swollen cheek. He was avoiding your gaze as if he was guilty of his actions

“ Zayne…you are drunk” you were skeptical, heart on the verge of plunging out your own chest

“ regardless if I’m drunk, I lov…” Zayne couldn’t finish his sentence. The words he meant to say caught up in his throat. Every single lifetime he was bound to a dreaded curse that forbid him from uttering those three loving words

I love you.

He wanted to say that. He knew even if he was sober he would never admit his true feelings towards you in fear of hurting you. He couldn’t stand for it.

“ Zayne what are you saying?” You leaned more closely, trying to hear him better with the view of his beautifully sunken face.

Zayne avoids your alluring gaze, instead, placing a light kiss on your cheek. “ I’m saying that I want to be yours” . There it was, that false sense of security that made you yearn for Zayne even more.

‘ Did he mean it? Was he that drunk?’ Your mind was spinning on a axis

“ I will never have the courage to say that to you when I’m sober so I’m letting you know now” Zayne’s large hands supported your own hands like it was a delicate snowflake

“ let me take care of you. Let me see you everyday, all the time” Zayne knew it was wrong, he knew he couldn’t but faced with the sight of you again, he couldn’t avoid losing you to someone else.

He wanted you again despite the pain he felt again and again.

He loved you so much even if he couldn’t utter those three words, I love you.

Silently after confessing, Zayne laid his head on your shoulder, accepting your invitation to take him home in the chilling weather.

Whether what he was true or not, you find your own hands repositioning around his shoulders in a hugging position. In one breath you let out, “ I like you too Zayne. I know now it was foolish of me to avoid these feelings” your arms tightly bound to him as you gave out your own confession

“ I promise I will have you for me only, I will not visit another doctor” you vow, feeling Zayne’s lips curve upwards at those words

“ and I promise I’ll cherish all I days the spend with you, my love. My only love.” Zayne replies, his delicate response leaving butterflies in your stomach. His hands coat your face, stroking it with a tender gaze

Zayne had reunited with his love again. This time, not intending to let go, sealing his promises into the form of peppered kisses

Sharing a longing kiss, Zayne felt greedy, stealing more than he intended.

XAVIER

Xavier knew he messed up. He hated it. How he couldn’t adapt to the new environment that you lived in. He couldn’t help his urge to sleep nor the lack of emotions he tended to exert

He felt bad it ruined the dates you had with him, how he would always be late despite numerous reminders. He felt bad and knew you were upset about it

Maybe that’s why you distanced yourself from him. Taking in more missions, spending more time with your other co-workers. He couldn’t blame you for that.

Xavier felt trapped in his own world due to the lack of communication. These feelings left him having the tendency to isolate himself away from you as well. However this night was an exception

“ careful” you and Xavier clashed around his apartment, stumbling to his bathroom

“ I’m sorry” Xavier profusely apologised for getting injured. The words that escaped your mouth seemed hurt and one sided to him

“ you should’ve alerted me. You know I hate seeing you hurt” you tone was lecturing, sounding more hurt than what Xavier actually felt

“ I’m sorry” Xavier repeated with innocent eyes, his back meeting the cold tiles of his restroom. “ stop saying that” you gritted your teeth as you couched before him

“ may i?” Your hands hover over his stained shirt. Xavier had nothing to do but bob his head slowly. You wasted no time, your hands tearing at the soft fabric, revealing the shallow gash on his chest

Your eyes averted the sight, feeling sorrow for him. If only he didn’t risk his life for a small wanderer. “ this is going to hurt…so brace yourself” your hands grasp the med kit you had brought over

Xavier observes your subtle movements, witnessing your hand unwrap the graze and alcohol. He itched to confess something, the feeling of guilt he had been feeling recently and the way he hated his habits

“ okay” you look into Xavier’s eyes as a form of mercy, pressing the cloth over his chest, cleaning the surrounding wound

Xavier’s groans were fairly quiet but his actions weren’t. You felt a tight grip around your free hand. Xavier had grabbed the closest thing to him, that being you

“ I’msososorry” Xavier quickly flocked back to his stilled state, realising his awkward actions.

“ no it’s okay” you reassure, only bring caught off guard. In an attempt to soothe his fragile state, you took his hand back in yours

“ you can hold my hand for support, I don’t mind” you reminded, continuing your patching

Xavier’s eyes wondered to your gentle behaviour in contrast to your previous actions. Your coating behaviour left his eyes drowsy as he felt at ease - at peace .

After you were done you decide to stand up in order to clean the area. That was your plan until a hand reaches out to you

“ [y/n]. I’m sorry I always nap. It was never my intention to skip out on our dates.” Xavier feels the need to bring up, knowing it was now or never

“ and I’m sorry I can’t express my emotions like you do. In truth I like you a lot. I really do and I’m willing to do anything for you” Xavier confesses all at once, making you even more stunned

“ is this what’s it’s always been about?” The change in your tone made Xavier shiver

“ Xavier I was never mad at you. I was mad that we couldn’t spend more time together and that’s…my fault” your words make Xavier’s ears perk

“ I’ve been avoiding my feelings for you all this time, I’m sorry if that affected you in any way” Your hands cup his soft face without any retaliation from the receiving end

“ You don’t have to apologise” Xavier’s lips curve into a smile. “ you too” you reply, placing a soft peck on his empty lips

Xavier pulls back so suddenly, surprised by your wits. Although it doesn’t take long for him to quickly adapt and move in to steal another kiss

“ alright then. Let’s both not avoid our feelings for each other and embrace it” Xavier’s hands cups your own while the other tangles around your waist

Your eyes close before your lips are invited into another lasting kiss. This feeling is all too familiar to Xavier, in fact, he remembers his past lives with you.

It’s a cozy and warm feeling, shielding him with that sense of security. This feeling leaves him smiling softly

“ I love you and I will never leave you, again”Xavier vows, hands wrapping around your waist in an attempt to pull you down on top of him

The kiss soon turns deeper when your body is supported by Xavier’s touch’s and reassurances.

“ beautiful” he calls out, taking in your breathtaking appearance that coats him with love. Your lips erupt a giggle, enough to make Xavier feel butterflies in his stomach. The feelings of butterflies was a moto he didn’t understand until now

“ let me indulge you tonight” Xavier whispers, coating to hands in his as he drags you into the endless night of stars

SYLUS

“ you told me to find someone to keep me occupied so I did? What’s wrong with that?” You yelled, standing your ground before the man in front of you

Sylus pauses, weighting his decisions. He wanted to tell you he meant himself, he wanted you to be with him. and yet his feelings created a wall he couldn’t cross

“ god Sylus you never understand do you? You keep me here and you always keep everything to yourself despite us being friends” Your frustrations were being let out.

In truth you weren’t mad at Sylus for ruining your date, you were just mad about work and evidently without thinking straight, you took it out on him

“ in fact we aren’t friends, our situation is more like enemies…you said you didn’t like me nor my guts” you voice softens

“ I never said that” Sylus is quick to defend, his tone neutral

“ yeah but it seems like you do.” You found yourself getting even more angrier than before. This wasn’t you, and you knew it. Opening your mind and thinking clearly you end it at that

“ just don’t go that again. And don’t send Mephisto after me again.” you coldly grab your bag, heading to the door. Sylus stands there Idly, having no words to express his emotions as he watches you leave.

It had been a few weeks by now, not that you kept count. Lately you had been miserable, taking in more work commissions to cover the pain from that night.

‘Why did Sylus worry all the time? Why did he always make time for you?’. All these questions made your feelings prominent, you were falling for Sylus and you couldn’t admit that fact

Perhaps you should’ve stayed to listen to Sylus. But what did it matter he seemed to stop bothering you, keeping his promise.

Although only occasionally did you receive letters checking on your welfare.

Walking through the pathway to your home you couldn’t shake the familiar feeling of eyes watching you. Strange because you seemed to be surrounded by swaying trees

Did Sylus send Mephisto again? You couldn’t help but long for an answer

“ l want you to leave me alone” you remembered your vow. Speaking out loud to the feeling you all too well. You knew Sylus was behind you, not Mephisto this time

Sylus shifts slightly on the gravel pavement, unmoving. He appears out of the blue, like a movie to you.

“ Sylus what are you doing here?” Your feet shuffle backwards, unsure if you were in a dazed and crazed state

“ I can’t bare this any longer.” Sylus’s hair is raffled, cheeks pink and appearance unkept as he moves in to your position

“ are you drunk Sylus-“

“ yes you were right back then, your argument was totally valid. I shouldn’t have ruined your date nor should I have sent Mephisto after you.” Sylus refutes, grabbing your attention by moving closely to you

“ but..You are the existence of my being. I love you dearly and I can’t spend a day without hearing you, touching you and seeing you. So no I can’t grant your request” Sylus admits as his tone softens. It almost sounds unbelievable, leaving you stunned

“ Sylus you look drunk, did Luke and Kieran sent you to do this?” You couldn’t help but have worry laced in your tone.

“ I don’t want to fight like this any longer” Sylus ignores your questioning, taking your hand in one motion, catching you off guard

“ sweetie, I’m sorry for making you feel this way” Sylus guides your hand to cup his face.

His smooth word swayed you. Sylus had never raised his voice at you and sometimes you hated that. His charming persona and sweet talk

“ don’t say things-“

Sylus acts on your word. Placing a quick peck to your lips. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back, escaping his loose grip

“ I truely adore you” his eyes shower you with a warm feeling.

You feel all your regret come to light. “ I didn’t know you felt that way…I’m sorry” you suddenly realise your true feelings for Sylus as well

“ perhaps you should go out with me instead” Sylus proposed, taking the burden of your worries off your shoulders

Those final words make the corner of your lips turn upwards. Finally you had smiling after a long time.

“ you could’ve started with that” your hands attach to Sylus, speeding him into a hug

“ then…can I request a kiss?” Sylus’s face shifts to in lock your eyes. You chuckle sheepishly, leaning upwards to place a lasting kiss to his lips

Sylus cups your head, supporting you as he prolongs the kiss. “ and one more request” Sylus makes another statement

Your face smiles, a mischievous look on your face before Sylus pushes tightly against his chest. “ could I perhaps…have you for the rest of the night too?”

RAFAYEL

“ have you ever thought of getting married?” A question sticks in Rafayel’s head. Marriage, a far fetched term that he longed for. Rafayel’s lips turn into a thin line

- “ no”

“ I pronounce you husband and wife” the middle announces, allowing the bride and groom to make amends. A purple haired man stands in the distance, swirling his cup as he simply observes

“ congratulations on your wedding, Thomas.” The sign reads. Rafayel couldn’t help but feel envy for his manager, although he gave him a hard time, Thomas always had better end of the stick

Rafayel’s eyes scanned around, his hands twitching at the thought of marriage. In his mind, he imagines a lavish wedding that is limited to his close circle. His bride? The girl of his dreams

Rafayel couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. You and him had an argument before you left abroad. It had been weeks since he saw you and it was unbearable.

He only had the courage to look ‘ properly ’ for his friend, despite his crippling state. After all Rafayel owed Thomas for showing up as he hadn’t been keeping up with dead lines for his art projects

He had no motivation to paint, not after his muse was gone. Oh how he regretted it all, that petty argument and that painful bond that linked your lifetimes together

He had lost you again and he had no one to blame but himself.

All night he had spent looking at his phone, all the missed calls and texts he would send to you were never opened or replied too.

“ thank you for showing up” Thomas was now by his side, walking around to show his sincerity. “ I owe you” Rafayel simply nodded, the sassiness in his tone gone

Thomas gives an awkward smile, his attitude towards Rafayel had changed after Rafayel’s personality shifted to a rather cold one. “ well, have a good one” Thomas could only pat Rafayel’s shoulder in reassurance

Rafayel dismisses it, watching the crowd ahead of him dance happily with their partners. Such a grim reminder leaves Rafayel clenching his own fists

His heart couldn’t take it anymore, you were his purpose and now you were gone.

“ care for a dance?” A voice comforts him. That voice…it’s way too familiar to him. Rafayel spins around and meets an alluring pair of eyes

“ oh…it’s..you” the voice recognizes him in shock

“ you…

It’s you, [y/n].”

—- later

“ it’s so cold” you cursed the harsh weather of the night. If only you dressed for such an occasion. “ how am I going to get home” you huff, your driver who was your friend was too drunk to get you home. Adding more, you dreaded the fact you lost your phone

“ here” a cape drapes over your shoulders. The stern voice is difficult not to recognize. It’s Rafayel and he found you again

“ you found me” you mutter, shyly avoiding his gaze. “ your lucky other people got to me before we could dance” Rafayel stands beside you, reversing the roles of you being his body guard

“ why am I lucky” your sentence was quiet as you peered down at the cars racing past. Rafayel takes a peek at you, savoring every bit of your features

“ they stopped me from leaping forward to hug you” he confesses, erupting a long forgotten flutter in your chest

“ why did you come back?” Rafayel is confused to say the least, turning around to face you properly, one on one after some awkward silence

Your mind races for responses for him, “ I never went away”

“ really.” Rafayel’s tone is quiet while he collects his thoughts. “ I lost my phone so I..couldn’t talk to you-“

“ you should’ve visited me.” Rafayel interrupted, his voice sounding genuinely hurt after waiting you for endlessly

“ I’m sorry, I should’ve done that…that’s why I came to this wedding, because I knew you be here” your sweet words get to Rafayel. No matter how much Rafayel wanted to resent you, he couldn’t

Your voice was a siren that casted him into an irresistible trance.

“ if that’s the case..” Rafayel uses his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace in a split second. Your body feels limp after being caught off guard

“ let me take you home” Rafayel whispers softly into your ear, his hands cupping your hand

“ okay” you close your eyes, cherishing the long awaited hug.

—- Later

The clashing of kisses trailed down your neck. “ thank you for this” Rafayel praises, allowing you to climb on top of him

“ I’m really sorry” Your hands are bare on his chest, his chest who rapidly moves up and down in amusement. “ it’s okay, it really is”

Rafayel uses his hand to coax your face, his eyes softer than before, his personality had seemingly all but faded.

Instead he had a different look in his face. One that was complete admiration.

“ please…” Rafayel inhales. “ please don’t ever leave me waiting like this again” Rafayel inhales once more, his hands covering your cheeks

“ I won’t” you promise, your torso bending downwards to meet the man in a loving kiss

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strawberrypoundtown · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work and your writing style.

If you’re still open to prompts(no worries if not):

Perhaps an incubus who falls in love with it’s mark, and struggling to remain composed or ‘professional’ due to their feels?

Please and thank you ❤️

(Omg I love this idea. Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like what I did with it! I'm so sorry this took so long to complete. I wanted to try and do something different with this one to experiment a bit more. Any advice or critique is welcome 😁 I do want to make a part 2 for this eventually, but I honestly have no idea when I'll actually be able to write it. Until then, any ideas for the 2nd part (or a name for him) are more than welcome! Without further adieu, please enjoy the show! - 🍓)

Incubus x Fem!Reader

After starting work at a new office, you've been trying to ignore your incubus coworker and his countless attempts to invite you into the supply closet, or his home after work hours. It's not until he admits that he doesn't just want a one-night stand that you might give him a chance...

Contains: tentacles, sexual tension, bondage (tentacles), gagging, grinding

This wasn't supposed to happen. It never took him more than a few days to convince someone to go home with him. Usually, he was able to do it in a matter of hours, and they ended up bent over his desk. Why were you so difficult? You were just a human. The most beautiful human he had ever seen walk into the office, but just a human either way.

Then why did you turn him down everytime he even walked up to you? Sure he had a rep, but it was a good one. A lot of the other girls at the office considered him good for stress relief, so why wouldn't you let him show you that? Or more importantly, why did he care so much that you kept rejecting him? He couldn't wrap his head around it. He had been rejected in the past and was never all that affected by it. But why did your rejections hurt so badly?

He couldn't feed on anyone else until he had you. The thought of feeding on anyone but you made him feel nauseous. Everyone else smelled terrible in comparison. He even almost gagged once when he was in a morning meeting, and you had called in sick.

You were like a breath of fresh air, and your kindness towards everyone in the office since you arrived made him annoyed. Some of the other monsters in the office were starting to flirt with you after you had rejected him the first time. It made him so angry that you were torturing him like this.

He was done with the casual approach at this point. He couldn't stand having people look at you like he did. He wanted you all to himself, at least for one night. He isn't supposed to get attached to his marks, but he couldn't help it. You had ruined him by simply existing. Everyone he looked at that could be a potential mark were nothing compared to you. They didn't have your body, your voice, your eyes, your smile, or your scent. He just wanted to drown himself in you just once to purge his urges at least, but you wouldn't let him do that.

But today was different. He had a plan. Your team had a short meeting that morning, and he had pretended to leave first, instead waiting outside the door until everyone else had left. He noticed you always stayed back for a few moments to yourself for whatever reason, often just cleaning, but this time, you were going to be staying back for another reason.

All of a sudden, he heard giggling from inside. Your giggling. It was followed by a masculine laugh and the disgusting scent of werewolf flooding his senses. He growled and peered through the crack in the door to see you smiling and giggling with a werewolf that sat next to you during the meeting. His claws dug into the doorframe as he tried to listen in while looking at you through the crack in the door.

"Oh, you're too funny." you said with a sigh, wiping a tear from your eye as you stared up at the handsome young werewolf.

"Why, thank you (Y/n). I take pride in my sense of humor." he said with a cocky smile, leaning into your space as he spoke.

"You should. I always laugh when we talk." You said softly with a sweet smile, seemingly leaning towards him as well.

"Well, how about I get you to laugh later tonight? Why don't we grab drinks after work tonight? There's a bar near my place..." he proposes to you with a smile, his fangs bared.

The door suddenly swung open before you could even contemplate an answer.

"There's a bright yellow sport car in front of the building getting towed. You better go get it, dog." The incubus growled through grit teeth, glaring into the werewolf's eyes.

"Son of a bitch... I'm so sorry, I gotta go. Think about what I said. I'll be expecting your answer after lunch." Ths werewolf softly purred to you before quickly walking outside the room. The incubus wasted no time and swung the door closed, letting it slam.

"What was that about? Coming to try snd get in my pants again?" You spat before rolling your eyes and starting to organize your papers. Gods, you were such a feisty human sometimes. He loved that about you.

"Technically yes." He chuckled, the rumble in his chest more appealing than you'd care to admit. "I didn't want anyone else around."

"I know you won't do anything unless I give my consent." You said bluntly as you tapped your papers together and tucked things away. You knew incubus couldn't do anything without some kind of genuine verbal permission.

"What? Oh fuck no. Nothing like that... Jesus christ, who do you take me for?" He sounded offended as one of his hands came up over his heart.

"A horny incubus that won't leave me alone." You groaned as you turned towards him, going to walk around him. Suddenly, his arm shoots out, blocking your path as he plants his hand on the wall. His claws were peaking out and leaving marks on the wall.

"You don't understand." He growls, a bit harsher than intended before he inhales deeply, trying to calm down as he runs a hand through his hair between his horns. "Once I have my target set on a mark, I can't change it unless they reject me."

"Then why do you keep coming back? I've rejected you so many times... Don't you have plenty of other girls that would be more than willing to give you a snack?" You pointed out how many women were always hanging all over him. It made you sick. Of course you wanted to fuck the hot incubus in the office, but you know yourself. You don't like to share. You like having a partner that's yours and yours alone.

"No. I've never encountered anyone that makes me feel like this..." He leans in towards your face and softly sniffs the air. "You smell so good... I can't think of feeding on anyone else right now... I think I just need a taste... just one night..." His voice is dripping in a pleading tone, bartering, but practically begging for you.

"I can't do that." You said bluntly as you avoided eye contact with him. The heat pooling in your panties didn't help your faltering moral defenses. You knew better. You had to stay firm. Firm like the bulge forming in his dress pants...

"Please?" His deep desperate voice broke you out of your daze as you softly gasped, trying to pretend to be offended instead of turned on as your face turns red and you glare into his eyes.

"N-no! I'm not interested in having a one night stand with you!" You barked, your chest heaving as you stared up at him. Your heart raced as you took in his appearance unintentionally. He was tall and slender, with sharp features. his typically carefully slicked back hair was a bit disheveled from running his hands through it in frustration. His horns were short and blunt usually, but you could see them growing by the moment. In fact, it seemed like his entire frame was growing.

"Oh." He purred. "I get it now." A wicked grin spread cross his face as you tried your best to maintain an annoyed expression. "You haven't been rejecting me because you don't want to sleep with me."

"What?" You jaw slacked open as you looked up at him in shock. "Why else would I be rejecting you?"

"You've been rejecting me because you want me so bad you know you'll want more." He chuckled, his other arm suddenly swinging around to cage you against the wall. "I can tell by how wet you were right now."

"That could have been from anyone else today." You scoffed, but you knew you couldn't pretend you weren't also starting to get desperate. Yiu also couldn't pretend that in an office full of monsters, most of them could probably smell your arousal whenever you had walked into a room.

"I'm an incubus, baby. A demon of pleasure. I can smell it in your blood how turn on you get from being around me." He chuckled with a grin. Fuck. He was onto you. "And it started shortly after I walked in the room..." Double fuck.

"Fuck you." You hissed through grit teeth, your blood pumping as you thought about how many times he must have known you were turned on by his presence.

"Oh babygirl, don't be so hostile. If you wanted more than just one night with me, we could easily arrange that." He starts to lean in close to your face, but you put a hand on his chest and push him back. You couldn't have him in your space like this for long or to hell with your morals.

"Look, I don't sleep with guys unless I'm dating them. I don't do friends with benefits or random office hookups." You finally admitted with a sigh, avoiding eye contact in embarrassment. Your hand on his chest alone was driving him wild. You had never touched him before. He felt his horns getting bigger as he struggled to keep his mostly human form intact.

"Wait, what? Why not?" He said as he finally processed what you said. It was hard to pay attention when you kept touching him.

"Because I know I get attached easily." You admit shyly, your voice nearly whisper quiet as you pulled your hand away. You had his full attention now. "Think about it. You're an incubus that needs to feed on pleasure to survive. You have a good routine going here with everyone else in the office from what I've heard." You let out a shakey sigh as you felt tears start to well in your eyes. "If I'm added into the mix, I know I'm just going to end up hurt... because it already hurts..."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean it hurts?" His voice has changed from frustration to worry mixed with confusion. He didn't understand what was hurting you.

"Excuse me?" You question, a bit confused by his confusion.

"What hurts you right now?" He asks, a bit more clearly as he stares into your eyes and gently cups your face. His touch makes you stiffen, although all you want to do is melt into his hand. As if he has some kind of truth spell on you, you take a breath and let out a soft sigh.

"Y...you do... you hurt me... I see how you talk to the other females in the office... it hurts... ever since I walked into this office I've found you attractive... I've only been here for a few weeks, and I've honestly already been looking to transfer to a different department so I don't have to be around you all the time." You admit softly, averting your gaze before his hand suddenly grabs your face by squishing your soft cheeks.

"What?! Hell no!" He barked with a growl. The thought of you transferring away from him made him enraged. He couldn't let that happen.

"Excuth me?" You mumbled through your squished lips, his grip firm, so you couldn't move, but not harsh.

"You heard me. Hell no." His grip on your face loosens as both his hands move up to hold the side of your head. The look in his eyes is wild, his pupils huge as he doesn't even seem to blink. "You've ruined me, so you don't get to run away from me like that."

"W-what?" You stutter confused, staring back at him as you tried to process his words. What does he mean you ruined him?

"If all you wanted from the beginning was to have me all to yourself, you should have said something." He mutters as his thumbs slowly rub your cheeks. His gentle touch makes you let out an involuntary sigh. "You've made me want no one but you since you got here anyways... your rejections were like being stabbed in the heart... God, without you around, everyone else smells like hot garbage... you smell like fresh summer rain that I wanna drown in forever..." He whispers to you as he moves his hands down your neck and to your shoulders before dropping down your back slowly.

"You really feel like that?" You whisper softly as a shiver goes down your spine. His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place as he presses his chest against yours. Your arms and papers squish between the two of you as his hot breath bathed your face.

"Yes. I mean every word... if you want to try and date me, I'd be more than happy to only feed from you." He slowly leans down and presses his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as you can feel his hardening bulge against your lower stomach. "I just don't know how much longer I can wait for you... being this close is torture... I can take you on a proper date tonight, but..." His breathing seems to get heavier as you start to hear the ripping of fabric from behind him. "I need you." His eyes were filled with need at he looked like he was about to start drooling over the most deliciousmeal he's ever had. He was starving and desperate to just feel you. "Please."

"I need you too." You finally whispered, breathless yourself as this was finally too much. You hoped he was telling the truth, but your horny brain didn't even care anymore. You needed him just as badly in that moment.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that." He lets out a relieved sigh and chuckles before a dark black tentacle comes out from the darkness and grabs your papers, throwing them onto the table. He wastes no time in pinning you to the wall, his wings bursting out from his back and ripping open the back of his suit. "Shit." He grumbles, quickly just tearing off the rest of the fabric on his upper body as he pulls up your skirt, making you wrap your legs around him as he grinds his bulge against your panties to tease you. You're about to let out a moan as he takes your soft lips in a deep kiss. You instead moan against his lips as your hands find his hair, gently tugging as he moans in return.

He's barely even done anything yet, and he feels like he just had a full meal. Your pleasure was so easy to stir and the buzz it gave him was addicting. This was dangerous. He didn't think you'd actually be so tasty. But you were now quickly becoming his new favorite meal. More tentacles manifested out of the darkness, wrapping around your arms and legs slowly as they explored your body and held you in place. The tentacles were warm and wet against your skin, almost feeling like strange tongues. You feel them pin your arms behind your back, your chest now pushed out as he rips the front of your blouse open. You gasp and squirm a bit about to complain about your shirt being ripped before he quickly silences you with a quick kiss.

"I can get you a new shirt, baby. Just relax and enjoy this." He purrs softly, making you shiver before his lips are back on yours again. He slides his tongue into your mouth and seems to be trying to taste as much of you as he possibly can. Two tentacles slide into your bra and wrap around your breasts, fondling them as they flicked your nipples. He quickly unbuckles his pants and pulls out his throbbing cock from his boxers, rubbing his length between your slick folds. He groans against your lips softly before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours.

Your brain is fuzzy as you look up at him, your eyes drunk with lust and he could swear you had hearts in your eyes. Your eyes flicked downwards and widened as he chuckled. He was bigger than you expected, but you weren't going to shy away from a challenge. However, before you could tell him to go ahead and fuck you, you felt a warm, slick tentacle move your panties to the side before prodding your dripping wet hole and slowly sliding into you. It was thick, stretching you slightly as it wriggled inside you against your most sensitive bumps inside you.

"I can tell you're a needy one... a secret kinky side... I like that." He groans as he bucks his hips against yours, rubbing his cock against your bundle of nerves. Your back arched as you couldn't help but let out lewd moans, another tentacle swiftly sliding into your mouth. "You're really enjoying this. I can't believe you resisted this for so long." He chuckles with a wicked grin. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth as you squirm, your eyes fluttering as the tendril in your pussy plays with your sensitive walls. Your face flushes as you felt yourself starting to get close already.

"Fuck baby... if you taste this good just to play with, I need to know how good you taste when you cum." He pants softly as you notice drool from the corners of his mouth dripping down onto your chest. His eyes are wild with lust as they dart over your body laid out just for him. His cock continues to thrust roughly against your clit, picking up the pace along with the two tentacles inside you. You don't know how much more you can take.

"Cum for me baby." He commands, making you shiver as you suddenly come undone. Your pussy contracts around the tentacle as you gag on the lne in your mouth. Your entire body trembles as you're fucked through your orgasm, the tentacles only pulling away slowly for a moment after you're done cumming. You're panting and gasping for air as the black tendril slides put of your mouth, your pussy red and puffy as the other slides out as well.

You're left whining softly as your pussy clenches around nothing and you try to catch your breath. You want to tell him you wanted more. That you wanted his cock. You needed it. Drool drips down your chin as he leans in to lick it away, pulling his dick away as the black tendrils move you to the large table. He begins licking the sweat from your body, leaving you wet and needy.

Once he finally moves to 'clean' between your legs, you're groaning and moaning softly with need. He licks up your thighs, stopping before touching your pussy. Your squirming in the grip of the tentacles still, bucking your hips as you pray for him to touch you. You're left whimpering and shaking with desire as he fixes your messy panties and pulls your skirt back into place.

"You really are needy." He growls as his eyes finally start to settle from their crazed daze. The tentacles slowly release you and he uses the shreads of his shirt snd jacket to ensure you're cleaned up. "But I can't get too carried away... not yet."

"I wish you could have." You whisper with a cheeky smile as he begins to clean your face of any spit or tears left behind. He chuckles lowly as he holds your face with one of his clawed hands. His eyes still held a burning desire for you, and you knew he saw the same in yours.

"You'll find out tonight. You took the bus today, right?" He asks as he manifested two of his shirts, opening one of them up and sliding it on your arms before beginning to button it up. You notice his more demon-like features starting to slowly go away, showing that he's much calmer now as he takes on his human appearance again.

"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, wondering why he was asking. It wasn't uncommon for you to just take the bus when you didn't feel like driving in the morning. He quickly finished buttoning the shirt he put on you before putting on a shirt himself now that he won't rip it with his wings.

"Good. You're coming home with me after work." He said with a smirk as he buttoned up his shirt. You whined softly and bit your lip as he now covered himself. He helped you off the table, but held your hips as you stood in front of him now.

"I want you to save that energy for our date tonight."

"Oh really?" You giggle as you run your hand along his chest, undoing the top bottun to let a bit kore of his chest show. "You better finish what you started then." You feel him practically purr as he stares down at you with a mischievous grin.

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #monster imagine #demon x reader #demon oc #demon bf #demon boyfriend

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cheemscakecat · 1 year ago

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Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date

Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.

Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.

Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].

Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.

Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.

Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].

There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.

Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.

See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.

He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.

Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].

They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?

This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.

Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!

This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.

Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]

Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.

Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.

Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.

#tf2 #dadspy #character analysis #expiration date #tf2 scout #tf2 spy

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1-wonder-1 · 26 days ago

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The next chapter of Planet Everywhere & Planet Nowhere will be published next week, after this week’s bridge episode (hopefully)! It’s called “How I met your mother” :D (Yes, that glowy blue lady is Susan—it’s explained in the comic!)

Also how do you think the new color palette looks? :D I’m working on it! *\(^o^)/*

#art #small artist #artblr #artists on tumblr #cartoon #comics #webtoon #funny #comedy #alien #bob #terpsichore #Susan #constructive critism welcome #to an extent #I’m terrible at taking rejection #webtoons to read #webcomics to read #cartoons

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froggiewrites · 5 months ago

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i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it.

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best.

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

#ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x reader #x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n

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acid-ixx · 8 months ago

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Ghost-Anon here!! 😋

Ooof the new chapter was good! I especially loved the part where Dick goes kinda nuts after Reader blocked him (as deserved :p ) more so I’m so excited for Yandere!Damian too xD

hii !! tysm for enjoying the first chapter ^^ i was afraid that i wrote dick's descent to madness too quick but then i realized that "oh yeah it's literally dick we are talking about, times where he is at his limits are times where he lets the emotions control him." dick really does love his family, as proved in the comic panels i have read, and I don't like how most other comics picture him as just this silly guy who never gets mad at anyone.

he had his immense bouts of anger and frustration, it would be worse if it was caused by you, directly or not. the thing is, he understands where you're coming from. one of the things about dick grayson is that everyone loves him but himself. he has flaws that take a lot to fix, and they simply worsen when it comes to you because he had caused the same mistake bruce has committed. he was the same guy who criticized his own father for his mistakes, angered by jason's death and killing the joker after tim's own 'jokerfication' and yet he had never once noticed your demons, he allowed the world to take you away and destroy you; a crime greater than anything he could imagine.

the worst thing was, he was the same brother who had led your hopes high and crashed it at the same time. dick is the man who was described to be giving empty promises to you. it's bad enough that bruce had never even known about your presence, had never once talked to you, but dick had every opportunity to grab because truly, you saw him as your favorite before anyone else. everyone praised dick and you wanted the same praise from the next thing closer than your father— and he failed because he never tried, he failed his cute, little baby bird.

he knows that he needs to make it up to you before it gets worse but he also doesn't know that it's already too late.

you don't see him as the dick grayson. you don't see him in any positive light anymore other than the sheepish grins he would give you right after he rejects your offers.

if he wasn't so damn stupid, then you would've been there with him, at the mansion flipping through movies, pranking each other, throwing flour at one another when you bake, decorating your next diary entry with him.

and he needs to experience all that because you're the only normalcy that life has to offer. he momentarily relishes in the fact that you think so highly of him, but he breaks at the same time because all your other diary entries began to paint them all as your demons.

dick would ward the monsters away from you, he promises.

and this time, he genuinely means it.

i am so excited for yan! damian too! i wrote his character to be terrible towards you (he doesn't know he's self-projecting lmao) but i had hinted in one paragraph of his relationship with the reader. you see, most of his feelings towards you may have stemmed from some sort of jealousy, or the feel the need for competition. he had already fought tim before, it's only right that you get to experience the same pain— and i'm not expanding on this because then it would spoil the future chapters hehe, but i'll be giving one small spoiler and say that damian would go through some sort of immense, internal breakdown at the thought of you.

#🍨... yael's talking #series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #platonic yandere

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torchflies · 6 months ago

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Hi TG Fandom!

Time for some more sad Jake!

Hangman is the asshole archetype and while I love that for him, I want him to have a subset of people who see him as the opposite.

So, I raise you — a Hangman who is raising his siblings.

I’m talking about Fiona Gallagher from Shameless levels of raising — just with a little more success and in the swamps of the Texas-Louisiana border.

I'm talking about a Jake who had a terrible childhood and knew how bad they were starting off in the world, so he planted his feet and shoved those kids in front of him to get them farther down the line of success than him.

A Jake who was raising two one-year-olds, a ten-year-old, an eight-year-old and a five-year-old alone at fifteen because the system failed them.

He eventually joins the Navy to feed them because he's out of options.

But he does the thing — he gets one into art school, one into nursing, one into professional ball and finishes up with two teenagers who never ever doubt if they have someone in their corner. Because the youngest two, the twins and only girls, had their Jake to teach them to shave and use menstrual products and put on makeup when they were ready and if they wanted.

He taught all of them how to love and be loved with none of the experience himself.

I need a Jake who broke it off with Bradley because the kids came first and he was scared that Bradley would reject them and the prospect of an “instant family”.

I just… I need it.

I need a Jake who takes off to save Mav and Bradley even when he has everything to lose.

#top gun #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangster #tw abuse mention #sereshaw

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

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Pinkie Promise? (Astarion x F! reader) MDNI 18+

Author note- this is specifically for @spitfireunhinged who wrote a beautiful little post with a concept that I adored. I hope I did it justice and you enjoy!

CW- NSFW, mentions of SA

Synopsis- You tell Astarion that you don’t think sex is as good as people say it is. Astarion is determined to prove you wrong.

*not my pic. Please let me know if it is yours so I can give credit

I rewrote this like 7 times. This draft is lightly edited, but I couldn’t wait to post it!

Part 2: I Triple Dog Dare You

Astarion had heard the phrase “pinky promise” before. It was usually between Leon and Victoria before Leon left for a hunt. She always made Leon pinkie promise that he would come home and Leon always swore it- his pinkie hooked with hers.

The whole thing made Astarion vomit, but he thought it was just a “them” thing since he had never heard it before.

Then you used it on him and he had hurt your feelings terribly. He had called you a child and then proceeded to mock you.

You had just smiled at him sweetly like you usually do, apologized for invading his space, and for crossing his boundaries.

When Astarion had come by an hour or two later to drop off a book he ‘borrowed’ (it was his book, but he wanted an excuse to talk to you again), he heard you sniffling and asking Karlach if you were a child. You were so upset by his judgment because you like him as a person and thought the two of you were friends. Karlach said that some people just aren’t capable of being nice.

Astarion found you after Karlach went to sleep and pinkie promised to never call you a child again (and that he doesn’t think you are a child).

Suddenly, it was your thing and it slowly became more enduring as time went on. A part of him was envious if Karlach or Gale offered you the gesture first and you would give them one of your breathtaking smiles. He wishes he could initiate it, but it feels far too intimate to him. Asking someone to promise him something? Perish the thought! No one can truly be trusted. Well- maybe you can be trusted.

Astarion doesn’t know when he became so infatuated with you and your existence. Maybe it was that first night at camp when the two of you got to know each other a little bit better. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were struggling to adjust to the new environment. You asked him lots of questions that he honestly had struggled to answer, but you were actually interested in him- not just his body.

Astarion was beginning to crave your presence and he despised sharing it with anyone else. One time he even went as far as making you pinkie promise you wouldn’t kiss Gale when he had called you over. You had scoffed and said that is ridiculous because “Gale would not kiss you ever, yuck!” , but did it anyway.

Low and behold- Gale did not get his kiss. He’s tried since, but you have rejected his advances. Astarion likes to think it’s because you like him more- want him more.

So maybe that’s why he was quick to drag you away from the Tiefling party after you had made your rounds- not wanting to watch you be with another person a second longer. You let him take your hand and you giggle as he chastises you for taking so long to talk to everyone else.

“How dare my self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ spend so much time not in my presence!” Astarion melodramatically states, “I am hurt, Darling. I thought we had something special.”

You blow air out of your mouth with an eye roll and smile at him.

“Well of course we do,” you say matter of factly, “but I also knew the minute I went to talk to you that I wouldn’t talk to anyone else.

“I’m the fearless leader!” You say with emphasis, “Leader of the Freakshow- welcome one and all to the most traumatized individuals alive!”

Astarion’s chest bursts with laughter, “how very on the nose of you, my Dear.”

“I must keep all of us humble, my Sweet,” you say boldly.

He tsks at you and twirls you around, “I’m afraid you aren’t allowed to steal my lines- that is going to cost you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Certainly.”

“Name your price.”

Astarion pauses- right now doesn’t feel like the moment to go full throttle. He has more work to do.

“I need time to think,” he says lewdly, “there are so many things I could ask for, after all.”

You hum in agreement and smile at him coyly.

Maybe it’s because you are the first person he has actively sought out since he has been released from Cazador’s grasp.

Astarion guides you to a spot in the meadow he had found earlier. Well- actually he had followed Gale to it earlier- Astarion just found an even better spot like 10 yards away.

Gale had stupidly announced to Wyll around the campfire that he was going to ask to spend time with you alone tonight.

There was immediately not a chance in hells that that was going to happen. Gale found a nice spot in the forest- Astarion found a better one. Gale brought a blanket and wine? Pfft, Astarion can do that.

You stop in front of the blanket and wine before you look at him- a nice blush running up your neck.

“Is this for-?” You seem surprised.

Which Astarion finds very interesting considering you are from Noble society- shouldn’t you be used to being courted? Astarion is almost certain you’d have at least a hundred suitors.

“For you?” He smiles charmingly, “well of course, only the best for you, my Dear.”

You duck your head and you blush even harder. Astarion guides you to sit with him. You both drink the wine and talk. You ask him questions about himself and he asks plenty about you.

Astarion isn’t sure when the conversation turns into talking about sex- that had always been the original intention of the conversation.

“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”

“Pardon?”

You shrug your shoulders and slightly slur the sentence again with emphasis.

“Sex can’t possibly be all that great.”

Astarion is shocked to his core. You flirt back and forth with him as if you’ve bedded at least a couple men.

“You’ve never?”

“No.”

“How?”

You look at him with a puzzled expression. You are staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.

Hypocrite. You’re the one spewing none sense!

“How?” You state incredulously, “you have looked at me right?”

Oh yes and I’ve imagined fucking you until you are screaming my name, but that’s beside the point I suppose.

“I’m nothing much to look at. I’m always the friend- never the girlfriend or the lover or whatever!” You emphasize with your hands, “no one has ever felt that way about me and if they have- they’ve never gone for it so I assume it’s just not that much fun.”

Astarion feels like he’s dying all over again. That was your assumption? Not that you might be horrifically oblivious because he’s only tried to to get in your pants several times. One time he quite literally asked you to come to his bed that night and you showed up with a book.

“Darling,” Astarion’s exasperation obvious, “I’ve been trying to have sex with you for a couple weeks now. Probably even more than that at this point.”

You stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

“You,” you stammer, “you want to? With me? No way.”

You laugh nervously, “you are beautiful and intelligent and-“

“No, no way.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow at you and smiles seductively. Your lips part slightly as he pushes you on your back and parts your legs with his knee.

Your arms automatically wrap around his neck- your pupils blown wide with lust. Astarion kisses to the left and right of your lips- grinning when he hears your huff in frustration.

“You sure do keen a lot for someone who doesn’t think sex could possibly be ‘that good’, Darling,” Astarion coos, you tighten your lips in embarrassment.

Astarion rolls his eyes at you and cups your face while putting his thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You hum with pleasure and peer at him through hooded eye lids. Astarion feels his cock strain against his pants

“So, my Dear,” Astarion drawls, “do you want me to fuck you? Would you like to see all the bliss you are missing out on?”

You nod eagerly and Astarion presses his thigh against your growing heat. You whine around his thumb and you run your tongue against his skin.

Fuck.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks hotly.

You nod- Astarion can smell your arousal and feel it seeping through both of your pants.

“Pinkie promise?�� He says teasingly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth to hold out his pinkie.

You hook your pinkie with his and whisper, “pinkie promise.”

Astarion pulls you in for a mind numbing kiss- caressing your lips with his until you are keeping up with his pace. He feels your arms around his neck pull him in deeper.

Your kiss against his lips is sweet and intoxicating- for a second he completely forgets about the purpose of the evening. Astarion could sit here and just kiss you like this until the sun comes up.

Your breathing hitches and Astarion watches as you desperately try to find release by riding his thigh- your movements erratic and wanting. The sounds you are making fill him with excitement and for the first time in a while- he’s actually eager to be inside someone.

He realizes your moaning has become muffled all of a sudden and he looks up to find you covering your mouth- your cheeks and ears are bright red while you pant with arousal.

Astarion laces his fingers through yours and holds your hands down on either side of your head- your pupils are blown wide from lust. The galloping of your heart is like music to his ears.

“Oh no,” he whispers seductively, “do not keep those delicious moans of yours from me, Darling. You promised to be good, remember?”

“Y-yes,” you say between heavy breaths- this time you are the one to surprise him by closing the space between the two of you with a needy kiss.

Astarion unlaces his fingers from yours as he begins unlacing your trousers- quickly discarding them to reveal your soaked underclothes. He growls involuntarily as the smell of your arousal hits the back of his throat- you smell incredible.

Astarion could leave it at just taking your pants off for now, but Gods does he want to see more and if you are willing to let him, then he is not going to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch and kiss every inch of your body.

Your shirt is next and you don’t even fight it- helping him get the article of clothing off and helping him discard his shirt as well. Astarion stops and looks down upon your naked form.

“Gods you are exquisite,” Astarion says as he begins to kiss down your naval, “open your legs for me, Darling.”

He leaves tiny love bites as he goes- wanting to make sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to. You are a whimpering mess underneath his touch as he presses his fingers to your clothed clit- teasing you slowly.

“Asta-“

You are cut off by your own sounds of pleasure leaving your throat as he slips your underwear off- slowly pushing one finger into you while playing with your clit using his tongue. A string of curse words leaves your mouth as he begins to pick up the pace with his fingers and basks in the way pleasure looks on your face, how your body is writhing for him, and the tumbling praises for him echo through the clearing.

He rolls your sensitive nub between his teeth and he has to hold your hips down as you keen underneath his touch. Astarion adds a second finger- still meeting some resistance, but you aren’t stopping him, in fact- you are giving him complete access using your tadpole right now (intentionally or not) and he can feel how desperate you are to feel fuller. Then he adds the second fingers and the euphoria that rings through your body goes straight to his groan. Astarion can feel his cock straining against his pants as he brings you over the edge with his fingers and mouth- your sweet pleasure dripping down his chin and his fingers. He languidly cleans his fingers off with his mouth, humming in delight while making eye contact with you.

Your eyes are half lidded and glassy- your mouth is slightly parted open. He leans forward and leaves a chaste kiss on them and begins unlacing his own pants- slipping them off and throwing them to the side- his underwear quickly following.

Astarion lines himself up with your entrance- your orgasm coating the head of his cock and he has to fight the urge to slam into you right away. He lines himself up with your entrance- teasing you. You look more nervous now than lustful and Astarion feels his gaze soften. He hovers over you and caresses the side of your face with his thumb. The last thing he wants is to start with you in the wrong headspace.

"Wrap your legs around my waist."

You obediently comply- your back slightly arching and your pert nipples are touching his chest. You sigh in arousal at the contact.

“This may hurt a little,” he says, “we can stop whenever or however much you need- we can stop completely and try again another time even.

“But do you want me to continue?”

You smile up at him with relief and nod coyly.

“I trust you, but please go slow,” you whisper.

Astarion feels a tightness in his chest when you look up at him. Your eyes are so vulnerable and of all the people you’ve decided to trust you chose him. Astarion is fighting not to dissociate- wanting to give you his full attention.

Astarion slowly begins to push inside you. You cry out and clutch at his shoulders- taking a sharp breath as he slowly sheaths himself inside you. Astarion has to fight the want- no need to go faster- you are so damn tight and Astarion is almost wondering if he should have done more foreplay.

He rocks in and out of you- making sure to check on your facial expressions. There are tears pricking your eyes, but your look of discomfort is becoming more and more euphoric as he keeps rolling his hips into you gently.

“Hells darling,” Astarion manages to moan out through clenched teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

You whimper at his praise and Astarion lifts you up by the hips so he can get a better angle. He thrusts a minuscule harder this time and the whimper that leaves your mouth is making him feel positively feral.

“Astarion,” you whine, “ple- please I need more.”

You definitely don’t have to tell him twice. Astarion snaps himself up into you at a faster pass- your keening only encouraging him to go faster- both of you moaning and gasping while clawing at each other. For the first time in the last 200 years- Astarion does not want to stop. Despite the feelings that are always there, this may be the only time he’s actually experienced bliss while being with someone.

"Such a good little pup, aren't you?"

You clench around him at his words, you beg him to fuck you harder, and he drops your hips back to the ground before putting his face into the crook of your neck- kissing and praising you as you ride out your high.

“You were such a good girl for me,” he breathes into your air, “thank you.”

Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging his lips to yours. If he needed air, the kiss would have suffocated him from how intense and wanting it was- the air between the both of you feels alive and Astarion barely registers that he’s finishing inside you until he’s collapsed on top of you- his head resting on your chest as it races in time with your breathing.

“That was amazing,” you say breathlessly and Astarion can’t help but laugh.

“I told you so.”

You plafully slap his arm and laugh- the sound filling his body with comfort. He can hear your heart beat begin to slow down and your breathing becomes deeper.

“Thank you Astarion,” you say sleepily, dozing off with your hands teasing his curls, “not just for this- for everything. I feel worth something when I’m with you.”

You yawn and Astarion tries to focus on the sound instead of the twisting guilt in his stomach. He cares for you too and that might be where he fucked up.

Your breathing quickly evens out and he is drowning in the smell of sex and rose water- a scent he heavily associates with you. Astarion stays there with his head on top of your chest- trying to get his bearings together. That was like no other sexual encounter he has experienced before- it was blissful- so why the hell is he about to have the melt down of the century?

“Shit,” you jolt awake, accidentally pushing Astarion off you- your eyes are still glassy “sorry I should probably not just fall asleep here- I’m sure you want to get back to your tent…”

Astarion pulls you back down and against his chest as if it’s exactly where you belong. The idea of you leaving right now makes his soul twist painfully. No, he needs you to stay. Existing is easier with you around- it has been since he met you on the beach.

“Stay,” he whispers, “please.”

There is a pause and he worries he may have overstepped his bounds. You look up at him with sleepy, kind eyes. If peace were to have a face- it would be yours.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” You smile at him sweetly.

The word leaves his mouth before he can stop himself, “pinkie promise?”

You give him the biggest, toothiest grin he has ever seen. Astarion is certain you may be the single most beautiful person he’s ever met.

You take his pinky in yours and then place a soft kiss against his cold lips.

As you pull away, you whisper against his mouth, “I pinky promise.”

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