#NC-18

[141lonner]

kiss me with the spider on my neck.(;

[hesperisms]

// Knight Shift

This is my submission for @nanamiscocksleeve Christmas Secret Santa Fic Exchange! I was tasked with writing for the wonderful @reilemon ! "Please don't squirm...you're making it very hard for me to be a gentleman..."

// summary: you get a little too drunk and make a fool of yourself at the bar, requiring Zayne to haul you out of there.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), fluff, second-hand embarrassment, pet names, early-mid relationship, THE IMPLICATION, toothache cuteness, husband as HECK

// a/n: when I saw this prompt go on the list I was so hopeful I'd get it and I'm so glad I did! I hope I did your idea justice <3 Happy Holidays

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

1:04 AM Zayne's phone screen beamed a soft blue glow back at him as he sat in his car in the darkened hospital carpark, brow furrowed as he skimmed through his notifications at the end of his shift.

A veritable forensic timeline of your night, his nimble finger scrolled through Moment post after Moment post documenting your Christmas party, smiling and shaking his head as he watched each captured tease of your night progressing. The Moment posts were very innocent at the beginning of the night and they made him smile to himself, you looking cute and bright-eyed in your new dress, twirling in your bedroom mirror to show him what you planned to wear. He felt a blush creep into his cheeks as he watched you, beaming happily and giggling with your colleagues at the bar.

Gradually however, the blush and the smile were replaced by a tight, protective, possessive feeling in his chest and a pit in his stomach as your drinks began to flow freely. The little brightly colored umbrellas from your cocktails were now starting to get stacked up in your messy updo like a crown of flowers, each video adding to your pile of paper adornments as the footage got blurrier and more concerning to him. Zayne had never been much of a drinker himself and you had pinched his cheeks as you rolled your eyes at him, insisting you could handle it when he asked you to be careful and pace yourself tonight, but the most recent Moment posts told a different story to your dismissals.

An hour ago, blurry new male faces appearing beside you and your friend that he didn't recognize as being colleagues of yours and they definitely weren't as drunk as you; twenty minutes ago a shaky POV of you cheer-screaming at the top of your lungs as your friend downed a double shot of something as they spurred her on. Thirty seconds ago a jumbled black screen mess of your phone clattering to the floor as you howled with laughter and someone tried to help you up, shoving another drink into your hand.

"This has gone on long enough; she's too drunk to be among strangers", Zayne thought to himself with a scowl as he started the car and began to navigate his way towards the location you'd tagged in your Moment posts. He dialed your number as he drove and after what felt like half a lifetime, you picked up the phone.

"ZAAAAAAAAAAAYNIE! ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYNIE!" you slurred at him excitedly as your glassy and unfocused eyes finally came into view on the facetime call. You were so much drunker than he expected you to be, so much so that he was half-questioning if something had been slipped into your drinks. "Zaynie I've been having SO. MUSH. FUN. with my new frenzzz here...what uhh...what were your namsh again?" you asked with a giggle as one of the unrecognized men muttered in the background and swiped at your phone when you turned it towards him.

Zayne forced a slight smile for you and spoke in a slow, even tone that hid his true feelings about the situation "I just finished my shift, I thought you might like me to come pick you up and we can finish the night with some dessert, hmmm?". With how happy you'd been to answer his call, he expected an enthusiastic yes, so when you pouted and whined that you were still having fun with your new friends, you weren't ready to leave yet, Zayne couldn't hide his icy scowl. "I'll be there in five minutes, Y/N, I'll carry you out of the bar if I have to." Zayne stated in a firm, no-nonsense tone.

Whether you hung up accidentally or deliberately didn't matter to Zayne, what mattered was you were alone and very drunk with strangers. His knuckles gripped the leather steering wheel tightly and he sped up a little, pushing the boundaries of how comfortable he felt speeding at this late hour. All he cared about was getting to you and getting you home safely.

Leaving his car a block away from the bar, Zayne jogged up to the doors, only to be stopped by the two large men guarding the entrance with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Too late for new entries, Sir" one of them said with a note of apology to his tone as he blocked Zayne from going further. Standing up on his tiptoes to peek over their shoulders, Zayne shook his head and began to make his case to them. "Sorry gents, I'm trying to collect someone. You might've seen her? Blue and white dress, about this tall, very drunk?". With timing so perfect only the cosmos could've coordinated it, you let out a loud squeal of laughter that carried through the open doorway, followed by a crash of what sounded like breaking glass. "Speak of the devil...May I?" Zayne winced in apology as the two bouncers looked at each other then back to him with a nod and stepped aside.

"Better you get her out quietly than we have to turf her out, Sir."

Nodding back with an apologetic tight smile, Zayne pat the shoulder of the bouncer in thanks as he passed, making a beeline for where your noise came from. When you had slipped and fallen off the barstool, your heel had snapped off your left shoe and you were drunkenly wobbling, trying and failing to understand why you had no balance.

Placing a hand gently on your shoulder so that you knew he was there, Zayne made his presence known. "Looks like I got here right on time, Y/n" he raised his voice above the cacophony of noise around you in the bar. On seeing your eyes light up in recognition, he dropped to one knee in front of you, beckoning for you to stick your foot out to him. Rewarding you with a slight smile as you complied, Zayne slid his hand delicately around your heel and began to unbuckle the strap on your shoe, slipping it off your foot. Repeating the process with your other foot, your bare feet now flat to the floor, you looked even smaller compared to his tall broad frame as he hooked his index finger into the straps of your shoes to hold onto them as he stood up, picking paper umbrellas out of your hair and letting them fall to the floor.

"Lets get you home," Zayne said to you softly, eyes scanning between the floor and your short dress, frowning at the broken glass you would risk navigating to the exit. "Hold these for me please," he instructed you, handing your heels back to you, before slipping his suit jacket off and wrapping it around your hips so that it draped down over the back of your legs to protect your modesty. You blinked at him in confusion before letting out a little squeal of surprise as he wrapped his strong arm around your thigh and picked you up over his shoulder, holding you tightly and securely in his arms. "Don't worry Y/n, I've got you, I won't drop you" he said confidently as he headed back past the bouncers at the front door.

"Zaaaaaaynie," you giggled tipsily. "You're carrying me like a princess, am I your princess?" You teased him as you clung to his neck tightly, your heels and your purse tapping into his strong shoulder blades rhythmically as he walked you back to his car. He paused mid-stride and pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, noting they weren't as glassy as they had been, but you were still far from sober. "My knight in shining armor," you giggled and buried your head in his shoulder. Zayne answered you with a low rumbling hum, your words stirring something in him that makes the tips of his ears flush red. He hoped you were still too drunk to notice and you seemed to be.

He delicately cradled your head to avoid you hitting it as he bundled you into his car passenger seat and he paused, stunned for a second when you suddenly reached up and stroked his hair gently, like you were petting a cat. "So soft..." you murmured sleepily. Zayne cleared his throat and pulled his head away hoping you wouldn't notice the flush deepening. "Feel free to sleep in the car on the way home, I'll wake you when we get there," he whispered to you as he leaned across you to lock in your seatbelt, but by the time he looked up to your face you were already out like a light, your breathing steady and peaceful, cuddling your shoes and your purse to your chest.

Zayne smiled down at you gently, brushing his thumb against your cheek tenderly and closed the car door as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb your slumber. Zayne drove carefully the whole way to your apartment, taking care not to accelerate or brake too suddenly and risk jarring you out of your sleep.

He needn't have worried, because you didn't stir when he opened the passenger side door or when he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt. "Princess Y/n," he whispered to you, a playful tone sneaking into his voice. "Wakey wakey your knight is trying to carry you in." Zayne smiled at you as your half-lidded eyes fluttered open sleepily and you struggled to focus. He chuckled and shook his head with an exasperated sigh as you held your hands out to him expectantly, but he still bundled you into his arms to carry you bridal-style up into your apartment complex without a word of complaint.

Zayne shifted you in his arms, putting you down for a second so that he could punch in your front door code. Missing the warmth of his strong arms and the steady beating of his heart lulling you, you snuggled in tightly against his chest, slipping your arms around his hips and pressing yourself flat up against him.

"Please don't squirm...you're making it very hard for me to be a gentleman..." Zayne blushed, reaching to stroke your hair. "Are you steady enough to stand on your own now?" He asked gently. You nodded up at him with a smile, before blushing with an embarrassed giggle as you almost tripped on your own feet trying to walk to your couch. "Wait there, I'll be back in a moment," Zayne instructed you as he shut the door behind you both and made his way to your bedroom and bathroom, moving through your apartment confidently like his own.

From your bedroom he collected a set of pyjama shorts and a shirt of his you had promised to wash but had instead kept to sleep in; he never asked you about it after the fact, liking the idea of it being wrapped around you at night when he couldn't be much more than it gathering dust in his closet. Detouring to your bathroom, he took your toothbrush, loading it up with toothpaste for you, your retainer, your pack of makeup remover wipes and a jar of eye mask patches.

"Your dress, while beautiful, smells like a brewery I'm afraid," Zayne chuckled, sitting down beside you on the couch with the pile of supplies he'd collected for you. He held his hands out to you and made a "come hither" motion with his fingers, encouraging you to scoot closer to him until your knees touched. "Give me your face, Princess Y/n," he said gently, holding your chin delicately with his right hand as he pulled makeup wipes out of the pack with his left and began to carefully wipe the grime of the night from your face.

You sat barefaced in front of him, eyes closed and sighing contentedly at his delicate attentions, your skin tingling from the makeup wipes. "Nope, I'm just resting my eyes," you murmured with a smile when he gently tapped the tip of your nose asking if you had fallen asleep on him. You stiffened for a second as the cool shock of aloe hit your undereye and you opened your eyes lazily to see Zayne placing the little masks carefully and brushing them smooth with his thumbs. Zayne took hold of your chin again, pressing your mouth open with his thumb and index finger, before holding out the toothbrush and popping it into your mouth.

As you brushed your teeth sleepily, enjoying the calm domesticity between you both, Zayne picked up the clothes and put them in your lap with your retainer on top. "Go rinse and change into those while I throw away these wipes and put your phone on charge," he instructed you, brushing your hair back away behind your ears before taking the rubbish into your kitchen to dispose of. You made your way to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. Slipping the clean shirt on over your head, you noticed it smelled like him again and you knew you'd worn it to bed often enough that it had lost his smell...you half-wondered if he hadn't rubbed it on himself a little to transfer some fresh cologne to it for you and the thought made you flush with giddy happiness.

Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you spat and rinsed your toothpaste, you couldn't help but grin to yourself, feeling so spoiled by him. After you disposed of the eye masks and fitted your retainer, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Zayne was nowhere to be found. Wandering through the apartment, you softly called out for him and felt a wave of relief wash over you as you heard him respond from your bedroom. Wandering in, the sight that welcomed you made your heart beat faster; true to his word, Zayne had plugged your phone in on your bedside to charge and was now fluffing your pillows and quilt for you. "There you are," he said with a teasing tone. "I was starting to think you might've passed out on your Knight again."

Zayne held his hand out to you and helped guide you into the bed, bundling you in under the covers, tucking you in. You grabbed his hand, catching his eyes as you felt his breath catch at your unexpected touch. "Stay with me? Please?" you asked and he nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "As my Princess wishes," he responded, swallowing thickly. "Let me just get out of my suit and I'll stay the night with you". You watched Zayne's movements around the room with half-lidded eyes as he slipped his tie and belt off and draped his suit slacks over the back of your arm chair. His nimble fingers worked to undo his cufflinks and free himself from his button up shirt, which promptly followed his slacks onto the chair, the clink of his silver snowflake cufflinks hitting your jewelry dish on your chest of drawers ringing through the silence.

"That gaze of yours is going to bore a hole in me if you keep it up, Your Highness," Zayne teased, a tone of a smirk to his accusation and you blushed, pulling the quilt up over your head. You felt the quilt pulled back from you and internally pouted that Zayne had already slipped on some pjyama bottoms you had bought and left for him to use at your place. He slid himself into the bed beside you and pulled your back up tight against his broad warm chest, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug and planting one last kiss on your hair.

"Thank you for everything tonight Zaynie," you whispered. "Sometimes I feel like I don't des-"

"Shhh...." Zayne cut you off, his arms squeezing you tighter as he pressed his chin down on the top of your head. "I'm exactly where I want to be," he hummed to you. "If you really want to thank me for being your knight in shining armor, in the morning you can help me make us blueberry pancakes. For now though," Zayne punctuated his final thought by inhaling a deep breath of your hair. "Sleep, my Princess."

[gloryride]

El Coyote Cojo Princesa

📸 by @breezypunk | commission detes

because the queen is Mama Welles ♥

[unintentionalseductress]

Just a reminder that this an 18+, NSFW blog! I did catch and block a few ageless blogs and some that were bold enough to display their (minor) age.

[torveiglyart]

Man, middle school could not have predicted where I am now. Specifically something in the comic, but the other stuff too. NC State Design School? For Industrial Design? I’m still shocked I made it.

[spohkh]

i got sent an ARC of Wolfsong (green creek series #1) by tj klune bc that publisher has my mf number when it comes to klune and i am, as always, inhaling it bc klunes writing is so addicting...however........... i knew the main romance was gna be on some eek yikes ick shit w the age thing.... but reading it still has me like... why tj why

[hesperisms]

// Whelp That Sucked

Out the LADS writers in the Fic Exchange, I'm kinda bummed that I'm the only one that had my secret santa fail to write anything for me (and not even have the courtesy to get in touch when they knew they weren't going to have it done to apologize or explain themselves, but that's something else entirely), which is pretty disappointing and makes me reconsider taking part in things like this in the future. Don't sign up for mutual exchange things if you don't have any intentions of seeing them through...I literally moved house and still made it happen on time.

I'm super happy that my giftee liked what I did with their prompt (and if you haven't read either of them yet, I reblogged their fic they wrote for their giftee and HIGHLY recommend the read!), but now my prompt has sat unused and I'm sad about that, so I guess I'll make lemonade out of lemons and write my own soft Sylus smut, I just won't make it xmas themed like the original prompt was because it's past that point now.

I have some really great asks sitting there in my inbox for Sylus that will suit this prompt perfectly, so time to get cooking!

[chongoblog]

So a lot of political scandals just dropped in the last 24 hours

-NC Governor Candidate Mark Robinson's online posts were found, including some VERY graphic descriptions (like seriously, do not read if you're not 18) of him cheating on his wife, calling himself a black Nazi, and expressing support for reinstituting slavery. His email address was also found on Ashley Madison

-Robert F Kennedy Jr was revealed to be cheating on his wife with a reporter (and that isn't even the weirdest thing since federal law enforcement opened an investigation into him allegedly cutting off the head of a whale and taking it home with him less than 24 hours ago)

-GOP Senate candidate who is the CEO of a bank has been found accepting millions of dollars from what seem to allegedly be Mexican drug cartels.

-Finally, probably the biggest bombshell, according to multiple eyewitness testimonies within sealed sworn affadavits, Congressman Matt Gaetz allegedly invited a 17-year-old girl to a drug-fueld sex party

And we haven't even hit October, folks. Again, these are all still breaking news stories, so things are subject to change, but oh man oh man.

[sillimancer]

got caught up on my stinky homework and burned a new cd for my car, yayy

[iscrubmeclean]

Oh my god i want to kill myslef so baaaaad

[ujuro]

Akb48 only has four pending grads right now…maybe we’re free

[the-kinfolk-wellin-chronicles]

Nobody Told Me

New Blog Alert!

Bloganuary writing promptIf you could un-invent something, what would it be? View all responses I would un-invent the word success as we define it as a society as of late. Success causes those with it to react in ways against everything they stand for.  Those who do not have success become cold and believe that money is the only way to be happy; this is also a false view of success. Pursuing…

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

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

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[rafeandonlyrafe]

southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

--

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

--

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.” 

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you. 

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off. 

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

[noicevibes]

There needs to be a setting on here where we can just… auto block blank blogs… bc I’m getting real tired of y’all…

[kurokawaia]

DAY TWENTY THREE - BABY TRAPPING 彡 Aizen Sosuke

WARNINGS :: x fem reader, afab, yandere, coercion, manipulation, baby trapping, no protection, missionary, fingering, cervix kissing, NC cumming inside, + more

| WC :: 2.8k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You knew about Aizen, what he wanted to achieve-you were the only person he had told apart from three others. You were going to go ahead and help him make this dream a reality. To be in the company of Aizen was to be with a God-the level of control he had, it scared you, couldn't tell if you felt safe too. He's always there to protect you, keeps you hidden away so you can't get hurt. Still, something has always been a bit off about him; you noticed it, how his eyes would follow your every move, every breath. It started innocently enough with Aizen as a perfect gentleman, never forcing and yet giving you just enough space to feel independent. Subtle changes began to happen over time. "Are you going out again?" Aizen's voice came out soft, he is masking his disapproval, he's waiting for the right moment to force you to stay with him. You lifted your gaze from the mirror in front of you and finished styling out your hair. "Just for a little while. Soon I will be back." His eyes stayed on you a moment, his smile false as he stared at you. "I worry about you," he said, moving in behind you and setting his hands on your shoulders before trailing off down to your hands. "The world is a dangerous place, and I'm not always going to be here to protect you. You're only a healer, you can't do much, my love." Comforting, even, his words were sweet. You think. A lump, tense feeling began to grow in your stomach but you laughed it off, brushing his hands with a soft touch. "I'll be fine, Sosuke! I can take care of myself." But the seed had been sown. Over weeks, he came further into your life, and what you used to decide for yourself would, it seemed henceforth, have first to pass through him. And he keeps reminding you so often with a soft chuckle that he wants nothing but the best for you. "You know, you need to take more rest," Aizen said to you one night while doing reports. He leaned over you with his hand tucked in the back of your nemaki, drawing circles, almost to sooth you. "All this stress isn't good for your health." You faltered, words caught in your throat. "I need to finish this." "You don't," he returned smoothly. His fingers closed over your shoulder, tightening just a fraction. "What you need is to unwind. I don't like seeing you overexerting yourself." Before he could object further, he leaned forward and rolled the scroll shut before taking it in his hands. "I'll take care of everything," he whispered. "Just trust me." At first, it was very easy to confuse his overprotectiveness with care. He was attentive, loving in his own peculiar way. Before long, the control started to become more evident with each passing day. 

He never raised his voice nor did he yell. He didn't have to. His words had been enough to lead you to wherever he wanted you to go. And they were so gradual besides, too slight, almost imperceptible. He started taking you away from your friends, from your captain, your lieutenant, subtly making you feel they were not people you should trust. "They don't understand you the way I do," he'd say stroking your hair as you lay in his arms. "They'll only hold you back." And when you fell, he'd lift your chin so it faced his eyes, the skin of your forehead grazing his lips in a feather-soft touch. "I only want what's best for you." You had begun to lean on him, questioning your choices, and if indeed you really knew what was best for you. Then you went to Aizen to see if it was okay-the things you were doing. Aizen had this way of speaking, as though he was the only one who knew you. Lying beside him in bed, as night fell, you said what was pent up inside your mind, "Aizen, am I the only one who thinks this all went a bit too fast? I feel like... I'm losing myself." His response was immediate. "You aren't losing yourself, my love, you're finding who you're really supposed to be. With me, you don't have to worry about a thing. Always, I will take care of you," he says with a softness, but his words are like honey. Still, with those words somehow, it sent shivers down your spine. That was when the future conversations started, light at first, talks about what life could be if you stayed together. A house, peaceful life, children. "You'd make a great mother," he said one afternoon as his eyes latched onto yours. "Can't you imagine building a life with me?" Your heart had skipped a beat, but there was a growing discomfort. "Perhaps someday, but I don't know if I'm ready for that as yet." Aizen didn't press the issue then, but the subject kept coming up. He'd casually touch your belly, remark on how ideal it would be to have a family, how complete your bond would be if you were tied together in every possible way. "It's natural to be wary," Aizen told you one evening while you sat before the fireplace. His hand lay limply on your thigh, his thumb tracing soft patterns. "But do think about it. A child would only strengthen our love. We'd be forever bound." You laughed a little nervously and brushed the suggestion aside. "That's a big step, Aizen. I'm just not sure I'm ready." He smiled gently, his eyes concealing something, something that you don't notice. "You will see, in time, it is the best thing that can happen to us." You didn't know that in his mind, a decision was already made.

Aizen and you have had sex multiple times, so it isn't a rare occurrence for the two of you to have sex at least once a day, at the least, it would be once every two days. But, Aizen makes sure to leave you every night, making sure that you are so fucked out due to pleasure that you forget to notice particular things. 

Specifically, something that is about to happen tonight. 

Your arms are pinned above your head, as Aizen's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

 A moan left your mouth as your back arched to his touch. Your reaction made Aizen press down slightly more, and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

You felt his fingers slide down, and he found your seeping hols drenched with arousal. A finger slowly slid inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Aizen asked, and you nodded frantically.

"F-Fuck... feels so good, Sosuke," you whimpered as he started to slowly pump in and out your soaked walls.

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

Overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and intensity, it leaves you unable to hold back your moans. You lean your lips against his shoulder, muffling those sounds that burst from deep inside you. His fingers delve deep inside your core, firing a flame that engulfs every thought. Every movement, every curl sends shockwaves of pleasure across your body.

You let go and surrender to his intoxicating rhythm of touches. The junction of his skilled fingers with the intensity of our connection cossets you closer to the edge and teetering on the precipice of release. It was just a pure moment of bliss, where time seemed to stand still, filled completely with an overwhelming pleasure that coursed through the veins.

With Aizen's fingers pumping in and out of your seeping hole relentlessly, there was a familiar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, and pleasure that had tightened inside your stomach. You wrap your shaking legs around him, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure overflows. Anticipation ripples your body, reacting to every single one of his touches and movements.

You chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

At your pleading, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice husky with desire. His thumb starts pressing your clit with its fleshy pad, another layer added onto the sensations that are already so intense. The touch is electrifying, your back arches in response.

"Please, Sosuke," you sob. "I need to..."

"Let your body take over for you, you want this and I've got you," Aizen reassured, intertwining your mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. You managed to release myself from Aizen's neck and move away from his hold.

"Feeling alright?" Aizen asks cupping my cheeks.

"...yeah..." you breath out slowly while looking into his eyes. Aizen makes you feel so good, all the time, always focusing n your own pleasure, it's like he's trying to win you over for something, to distract you from something-

"There is more coming," Aizen said slowly, his brown eyes piercing into your own and they widened.

"More?" you tease, "What possibly could you give me more of?"

"So much, my love," Aizen hums. "Just let yourself loose, don't focus on anything, just on the pleasure I will give."

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Aizen's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Aizen moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against yours and you whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up agasint your stomach. His lips mingled with yours his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to go explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Aizen groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his chocolte and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"Look at you," he teases. "Trembling under my touch."

Aizen pants against your lips and you didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "Please," I whimper out.

"Hmm?"

"I want you...." you mumble. "Stop teasing me."

Aizen kissing your forehead like you were a child who listened to their parent. "Good girl."

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Aizen whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

You moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

You feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Your moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Aizen held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Aizen continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-" you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Aizen's bare chest causing Aizen to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you.

You arched your back heavily, able at last to sink further into his embrace. Aizen leaned over, drawing you near to him and initiating a messy, moist kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting out grunts as he absorbed your sounds of pleasure. 

Effectively distracting you as he cums half in your cunt and the rest all over your stomach. He mimics that he's pulled out when in reality, he's got you filled with his seed, ready for you to bare his child.

-------------------------------------------------

 Aizen watched you from his chair.. "You're shaking, dear. What's going through your mind?" His voice was smooth, treacherous in a way that completely made it impossible for you to feel anything but relaxed and on edge all at once.

"I-I just don't understand...," you stammered, your hand falling to rest on your stomach, that for the last couple of weeks had started to show the signs of the life growing inside you. "How could this have happened? We were careful..."

Aizen chuckled low in his throat. "Oh, my love. Did you truly think I would leave something so important to chance? This was always a part of the plan."

You froze, your mind racing. "Wha... what do you mean?"

He stood, moving towards you with the grace of a predator stalking his prey. His hand cupped your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "I made it happen. I want you bound to me in every way possible. You're mine now-mind, body, and soul."

It swept over you, you realise everything now. Every sweet word, every tender touch, was all an act to trap you. And in one swell, tears began to well within your eyes, but a gentle smiling Aizen wiped them away.

"There is no reason to cry, dear, this is for the best. Now you shall never leave me. You shall carry my child, and we will be bound together, forever." His lips pressed against your forehead. Your breath hitched as his hand slipped into your stomach. How had you not seen this all along? All those nights he had held you close, whispering sweet promises to your ear-all part of his carefully designed trap. He straightened, watching your. "You're too precious to let slip away. You see that, don't you?" His fingers brushed your skin. "You planned this," I whispered, more for my benefit than his. "You wanted this all along..."

Aizen smiled. "Of course. You really didn't think I'd leave a thing like that to chance, did you? I have always had a vision for us-a future wherein you would be mine-completely." You took another step backward, feeling the beating of your heart within your chest, but there was nowhere to go. "What if I don't want it?" you whispered almost soundlessly. "You are emotional now. Understandably so. But time will let you see this as precisely what you need." His voice was coaxing, speaking as he would to a frightened child. You shook your head, fighting down the panic rising into your throat. "I don't want to be trapped like this, Aizen. You can't just take away my choices." Aizen's hand rose to your chin, the pad of his thumb tipping your face upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Oh my love, I have not taken anything from you. I've simply... ensured that we shall never again be parted. Is it not what you wanted, deep down?" "I... I don't know," you said, voice shaking. "Shhh," Aizen cooed, pressing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are overwhelmed now. But in time, you shall see: our child will bind us together, and you shall understand that was the only way. You shall thank me for protecting our future. "Why?" one finally asked, barely above a whisper. "Why go to such an extent? Aizen's smile pulled taut over his lips, never quite reaching his eyes. "Because I love you. And when I love someone, I make sure they can never leave me." Aizen leaned down until his lips brushed against your ear. "There's no escape, my dear. Not now, not ever."

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

tag list :: @love-eien @enouche @dreaddful @z8riah

@yanakurokawaaa @princesstiti14 @bontensbabygirl @mitsuyas-version

@kxrfie @clobiss @helenaxh @Tvbox_098 @fullwriterpoemp