#and don’t even get me started on Mariah

[ricky-mortis]

Not too long ago I saw people talking about Mariah playing Ethan and I had to draw her (plus it was an excuse to draw Joey Ethan as well :) ).

[foofygoldfish]

hi this is idk me being vulnerable or whatever

but uh if anyone ever wants to chat or like… discord or whatever? I’d like that?

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Depends, how much money you got?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Decorations 

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys 

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree 

 ⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m on vacation,” he protested. 

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

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

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

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

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

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

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

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

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

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

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

(Series discontinued, sorry! Thank you for reading 💕)

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

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

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

[jinxvex]

HIII!!! girl your sevika x reader bartender fic was so hot her talking them through it omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 if you take request could you do sevika x reader established relationship nsfw head canons or sfw head canons anything that make you comfy :333

♱ gf!sevika (established relationship) headcanons!! ♱

omg!! first request!! thank you anon, i'm so geeked rn omg 😆

i'll do both sfw & nsfw because i'm seated 4 both 🤭🤭...

cw: smutty shit, dirty talk, pet names, that shimmastrap, roughness, daddy kink (DON'T BE AFRAID IT'S NUN WEIRD), vulgar language, just plain smut LOL

SFW:

♱ she loves taking care of you! she loves when you can’t reach for something and you have to ask her to get it for you (it’s canon that she’s tall asf). she definitely has a smirk on her face when you’re struggling to open something for a while and she comes over and opens it in on the first try… + trust, you wouldn’t even have to ask her to carry your bags/things because she does it unprovoked (ahhh!! 🫠).

♱ to stem off of that, she loves buying you shit with her poker money + providing you with anything you need. 

♱ you always catch her staring at you! it makes you so flustered that you always look away + she turns your chin towards her so that you’re looking into her eyes and goes “don’t be shy, baby, it’s just me.” and “what? i can’t look at you?” with a cocky smile on her face (cuz why u playinggg LMAO). 

♱ loves to train with you and humble you by pinning you on the floor after your attempt to take her down. 

♱ calls you all kinds of sweet nicknames (even early on in the relationship, she doesn’t gaf.) “baby,” “babe,” “princess,” “angel,” “sweetheart,” “mama,” “doll,” “love,” “darling,” “beautiful,” everything you could possibly think of! 

♱ oh she’s not even looking at other women and she gets hella possessive/jealous if anyone looks your way as well (literally just wrote about this lol). 

♱ sevika is very protective of you in public and always has an arm resting on your shoulder and waist! (also so people know you’re hers).

♱ when you both go out to eat this woman always has to sit by you and rest her hand on your thigh because she’s literally OBSESSED with you. she would rest her hand on your thigh in the car as well! (she’s driving WBK). 

♱ she’s hesitant at first! but she eventually lets you craft her a skin and body care routine. she’s very set in her old ways and has the whole “use what works” attitude when it comes to skincare/shower routines. BUT! she does love watching you get excited when you talk about what ingredients in skincare will help with what.

♱ like i mentioned above, she’s more of a listener and prefers to listen to you talk.

♱ sevika feels SO guilty when she makes you upset. she will literally get down on her knees and look up at you, eyes asking, NO, BEGGING for forgiveness. “i'm sorry, princess. forgive me, please?” 

♱ she loves doing arts and crafts with you IDC!! she may try and act like she hates it but she loves it deep down! she’s the same way when you ask to do her makeup. the only way she’ll tolerate you doing it is if you sit on her lap while you do while her hands rest on your waist/ass. (what if i said she would be feeling herself in the mirror after you’re done) 

♱ as much as she loves solitude, she gets more clingy as the days go by! every single day she falls deeper and deeper in love with you and would do anything if it meant making you happy. don’t get it twisted though, she hates rollercoasters/amusement parks full of people so if you wanted to go, go with some friends girl…

now... *mariah carey voice* it's timmmmee 😫😫😜

NSFW:

♱ to start strong, DARE I SAY, sevika has a thing for titles during sex. *ahem* daddy kink (don’t kill me!!). i headcanon she didn’t bring it up first though! you may or may not have let it slip out while she was fucking you hard into the mattress. a single “f-fuck, daddy! right there!” and she’s pressing you deeper into the mattress as she slowly (but ROUGHLY) strokes her cock inside you. be prepared to repeat yourself when she asks, “huh? what did you say, baby?” + “what did you just call me?”. she calls you a “dirty fuckin’ slut” for wanting to call her daddy (she loves it).

♱ also, be prepared for the “who’s your daddy?” jokes because she thinks they’re HILARIOUS + refers to herself as “daddy” in the third person.

♱ eating you out is her favorite pastime! + loves the way you taste and cannot get enough. 

♱ SHE 👏🏽 IS 👏🏽 AN 👏🏽 ASS 👏🏽 WOMAN. not to say she doesn’t love the rest of you but you’re always catching her staring at your ass and she is not ashamed! she will have that same “can’t look at my woman?” attitude. she will also come up behind you when you’re doing the dishes or laundry and will grope your ass and bury her head into your shoulder to inhale your scent. 

♱ a giver!! she prefers to give instead of receive because she’s giving dom!top but… who said she would refuse you giving her pleasure? never that. sevika loves it when you ask to touch her! she pushes your head down when you’re eating her out like she’s throatfucking you. “fuck, baby, this mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” + “love this slutty fuckin’ mouth” 

♱ makes you suck the strap before you take it… nothing further…

♱ she loves seeing you in lingerie and tells you to give her a “show” (stripping your clothes until you’re in your lingerie and giving her a lil dance 😵). she’s all like “this all for me?” + “bend over.” when you show her your little outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

♱ eye contact is important to her! she will force you to make eye contact with her as she’s fucking you and if you don’t…. “gonna stop if you don’t look at me, dollface.” + “look at me when i fuck you.”

♱ the dirtiest dirty talker of all dirty talkers OMG. it’s insane how nasty she can get with you but it makes you so needy for her! ↓

♱ “fuuuck this pussy’s so good to me, baby.”, “shits so fuckin’ wet, you’re dripping all over me.”, + “look how i’m stretching this fuckin’ pussy out”… and the list goes on.

♱ the dirty talk gets even more vulgar when you ask her to cum in you. breeding kink goes CRAY TO THE Z. ↓

♱ you’re all like, “yes! yes! c-cum in me, please, daddy!” + she’s like, “gonna fill you up, baby. gonna give you all this cum.” and “you gonna let me put a baby in you, angel?”

♱ she LOVES it when you’re rough with her. scratch your nails down her back! pull her hair! mark up her neck!

♱ sevika does love soft sex as well. she is a softie at heart DO NOT FORGET! as much as she loves to degrade you and throw you around, she loves to worship your body and kiss you all over! she loves to praise and tell you how gorgeous you are. “you’re so beautiful, baby, you know that?” + “you’re always so good for me, my good fuckin' girl."

hope you like anon!! thank you for the request! had fun writing this 😘

[ghostfacd]

WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which you and tom make a special appearance on wired’s autocomplete interview

installment of this au | recommend reading for more context

“Hi — we’re Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth — and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview!”

You’re both handed a white board, bigger than your face, and there’s a list of questions with some of the words covered.

“Do you want to go first?” Tom asks, giving you a small smile.

“Yes! I’m pretty excited actually,” you begin to peel off the first question. “Okay, first question: what was Y/N Avocot’s first role?”

You think for a moment, “well in terms of roles in general, my first acting role was very small and I believe it was for this ice cream commercial as a kid. I’m not sure if it’s still up but my mom had signed me up for it and they thought I was a really cute kid so they casted me.”

Tom laughs, “really?” He then retrieves his board from the crew. “Okay my turn. Why does Coriolanus Snow turn evil?”

That question makes you slightly giggle, because it’s so broad that it’s nearly impossible for Tom to narrow down exactly what it is that made Coriolanus suddenly switch. “I believe you should be asking Suzanne Collins, shout-out to her for making the entire trilogy and prequel. But honestly? I think he was always power hungry, and even though Tigris tried her very best to bring out the humanity in him, it was just never enough. Especially after Sejanus’s death, I think Coriolanus realized there was no going back.”

“Oh wow,” you say, very impressed with how he decided to answer it. “That was a terrific answer Tom.”

“Thank you m’lady.” You giggle at his antics, rolling your eyes jokingly.

“What role does Y/N Avocot play in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes?” You clear your throat, imitating one of your character’s iconic resting bitch face.

“I play Balleona Laurent, duh.” You joke. “Anyway, yes, I play Balleona, also known as Leona. She’s originally from the Capitol just like Coriolanus. They met at the academy and she automatically knew she had to have him. She comes from the Laurent family, which is a very very wealthy, well off, intimidating family that Coriolanus knows he just has to get into, which is why they start dating. I don’t wanna spoil too much of Leona and Corio in the movie, soooo you guys should definitely check it out!”

“Alright,” Tom adjusts himself in his seat, ripping off the paper for the next question. “Does Tom Blyth have a girlfriend?”

He pretends to think, which makes you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh. “Hmm, very complex question.”

“Oh give the people what they want!” You tease, “yes he does. He’s inlove with Jennifer Lawrence.”

“I am not inlove with Jennifer Lawrence!” He exclaims quickly, “although I greatly admire her work. My girlfriend is Y/N Avocot over here, sadly.”

“Sadly?!” You fake offense, “cut the cameras. I’m gonna beat Tom up.”

You peel away at your next question, the interview already being loads of fun for the both of you. “Is Y/N Avocot a good singer?”

Your head falls forward, and Tom’s automatic instinct is to catch you, not realizing you’re only joking. “Oh God, I hope so!” You say, laughing as you pick your head up. “I’m no Mariah Carey but I like to think I’m a pretty okay singer.”

“More than okay,” Tom chimes in, which makes you laugh.

“Aw, thanks Tom.”

Tom reaches to peel another question off. “Is Tom Blyth American?” This question makes you almost spit out the water you were currently taking a sip out of. “Well, a lot of people get shocked when I say I’m from the UK. I mean, is my American accent that good?”

“Guess so,” you shrug. “Okay next. Is Y/N Avocot in The Summer I Turned Pretty?”

You clasp your hands together excitedly, giving the camera a wide smile. “Yes! I play Maekella Fisher, also known as Ella Fisher, Steven Conklin’s love interest and sister to Conrad and Jeremiah. The first season airs out soon so please stay tune for that! I’m so excited to be apart of this amazing show with such amazing people.”

“I always come to watch her on set,” Tom says, “they’re all such funny and charismatic people. I swear I’ve became friends with everyone on Y/N’s cast.”

“Okay, my last question,” Tom peels off the paper, grinning. “Will Tom Blyth star in another movie soon?”

He smirks, eyes playfully looking into the camera. “Who knows? But I do know that something exciting will be coming out soon so prepare yourselves!”

“Way to tease the crowd Blyth,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Anyway! My last question, this was quick. What is Y/N Avocot’s skincare routine? Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one.”

You sit on the edge of your seat, and Tom finds it endearing that you’re so excited about something as small as this.

“First, I rinse my face with cold water and I dip my face in a bowl of ice and water for 3 minutes. Afterwards, I put on my dewy toner from Innisfree, it’s so smooth and nice. Sometimes I’m too lazy for this step but I also put on sunscreen, it’s important so I always remind myself to not forget— but I love to use Supergoop Unseen’s Sunscreen. I use drunk elephant’s bronze drops if I wanna go for a sunkissed look that day, but I usually don’t. And then I just shake my Tower facial spray and spray it all over my face. Usually, I touch up my eyebrows and do my eyeliner but that’s really about it!”

“It’s true,” Tom adds. “She asked me if I could go buy her the tower spray yesterday because she was almost out.”

“No need to expose me like that,” you say, clinging your arms onto his. “Well thank you guys for watching!”

“Thank you!” Tom and you wave at the camera, smiling brightly.

[12daysofchristmas]

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

If you're posting on AO3, here's our collection: 12 Days of Christmas Collection

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

Extra Challenge

Angst or fluff, romance or platonic - you're unsure in what direction your fic should go? Spin our

Wheel

and let it decide for you! You can spin it once and write all fics with what comes up, you can spin it daily and change course accordingly, you can spin it as often as you need or not at all - it's all up to you.

Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any questions! Also, feel free to share this post and help spread the joy and cheer!

Happy writing, and good luck 🍀

[ppixienous]

BEETLEJUICE, joe burrow

pairings ➸ joe burrow x ex-fwb!black!reader

synopsis ➸ you were lured to the fire and got burned.

warnings ➸ angst, that's it.

word count ➸ 822

a/n ➸ was in the process of writing another fic when this idea popped up in my head. everybody say thank you laufey and mariah the scientist ayeeeeee! (not proofread !)

tags ➸ none! but lmk if you would liked to be tagged in the future! <3

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. it was impossible. there was no way he could be this stupid; there was no way you could be this stupid. “this is yvonne, my girlfriend,” you didn’t even have to look at joe to hear the smile through his words. his girlfriend…

everyone seemed to welcome her with open arms, including some of the ones you viewed as close friends. looking at the happy couple, her smile was just as big as joe’s, if not bigger. the screeching of voices was making your head spin and heart pound. a loud scrape against the floor echoed as you looked over to your best friend to excuse yourself from dinner.

step after step, it felt like you couldn’t get further away from the party. finally making it outside, the cold air wrapped around your body, like an odd source of comfort. or perhaps it was a punishment for your relationship with joe. the past few weeks, you knew he was acting more distant than normal, but those sweet words and blue eyes had you hooked. you tried to focus on the cold air, but the bitterness and pain in your heart was too strong to place your focus elsewhere. a figure cleared his throat behind you, trying to make his presence known without scaring you.

joe…

walking closer to you, he draped his large jacket around your smaller frame. you cling to the sleeves of his jacket and put more space between the two of you, afraid that if you let go you would fall back into old temptation. the busy street felt so quiet around you, as if it was just you and joe outside. “y/n…”, a faint cloud of frosty air escaped his lips as he spoke, “come back inside. you’re shaking.”

you couldn’t help but to scoff. this is the same man that knew how to touch you the way he did, place his hands where they didn’t belong, made you feel beautiful like no other man has. the same man that professed his love to you as your bodies connected as one. that same man that did all those things, but wanted you around him and his girlfriend for the rest of this godforsaken night. “yeah, no thanks. i ordered an uber.”

“which could take up to 20 minutes to arrive. don’t be stubborn, y/n. come back inside, enjoy the night, then you can leave.” this got to be the dumbest nigga on the planet.

“don’t be stubborn,” you scoffed, “you want me to “enjoy” my night with your lil girlfriend? you want me to smile in her face? give her a big hug while we’re at it. want me to be her friend as if her man wasn’t just fucking me the other night while saying that he loves me?! is that what you want me to do joe, huh?!”

it could’ve been from the cold or your outburst, but you noticed joe’s face turning into a red hue as he looked around at nosey onlookers. “would you just lower your voice so we can talk about this inside, y/n/n? it’s freezing and i don’t want you to get sick.”

listening to his words and watching his indifferent demeanor, you couldn’t help but to be filled with more rage, bordering hatred. happily snatching his jacket off of your body, you aimed his jacket for his face but he caught it before it connected. goddamn, quarterback.. tears started pooling your eyes, slowly running down your face, “nigga, fuck you! you lied to my face, time and time again. nothing about this shit was love, this was just lust to you. you never cared for me, the way you were supposed to joe.”

“what the hell are you talking about? i never cared for you?”, his face turned up.

“exactly what i said! you never cared for me! this is not showing you care for me. there is no reason, no sane explanation for you telling me that you love me then popping out with some girl the next damn week! do you know h-how devastating that feels?” your heart was pounding rapidly like a drum. you did your best to calm it down, but this situation was too much for you. “i truly hope for yvonne’s sake, you treat her much better than you did me.”

beats of silence surrounded the two of you as joe studied you. dried tears painting your swollen face with bloodshot eyes. in some twisted fantasy, he knew that he could have the best of both worlds. but he made his bed, now hump in it. the sound of a car coming to a stop got your attention. “uber for y/n?”

you nodded to the uber driver, signaling that you would be in there momentarily. taking one more last look at him, you let out a deep sigh and a weak smile, “have a good life, joseph.”

[insidekatmind]

Decorate together-Jobe Bellingham

The scent of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air of your home. The soft lights create a warm and welcoming atmosphere, while in the background the Christmas songs sound softly. You’re packing the last boxes of Christmas decorations when you hear the doorbell ring.

"Here I come!" exclaimed with enthusiasm, rubbing your hands to warm them up. You run to the door and as you open it, you see Jobe standing with a big smile on his lips and cheeks slightly flushed from the cold.

"Surprise!" he exclaims with a contagious smile, showing a paper bag. "I brought the ginger cookies you like so much."

"You’re too sweet, Jobe..." you say with a tender smile, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the lips. He looks at you with those deep and dark eyes, always full of a disarming sweetness.

"I couldn’t come empty-handed, could I?" Jobe replied laughing, entering the house and closing the door behind him. He takes off his jacket and scarf, revealing his red Christmas sweater with a funny snowman on the front. You can’t help laughing.

"Lovely sweater!" comments giggling, while he raises his eyebrows with a funny air.

"Adorable? That’s pure style, honey!" He responds by pretending to be offended, but then laughs with you and then pulls you close to him to give you another sweet kiss.

---

Enter the living room together, where the tree is already mounted but still bare. The led lights lie at the base, ready to be placed.

"So, chief decorator, where do we start?" asks Jobe, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you with a defiance.

"The lights, of course. If we get those wrong, it’s over!" you reply with a serious tone but with a smile that plays on your lips.

"Got it, boss!" he says, making a fake military salute. Then he grabs the first row of lights and starts to circle around the tree. "You just tell me if I’m doing it right."

"Higher, Jobe! That part is too empty," you point your finger, moving closer to help him lift the lights.

"Wait, wait..." he says, raising his arms to wrap the bright wire higher. His sweatshirt lifts slightly, revealing the skin on his back. You have a small smile but you look away.

"Perfect! You’re a real expert, Bellingham," you praise him in a soft voice, winking.

"What do you want, I’m good at everything," he replies in a jokey tone, giving you a slight tap with the side.

After the lights, move on to balls and ornaments. Jobe always chooses the weirdest ones, like a little penguin with a Santa hat.

"This is the king of the tree, he must go to the center!" he proclaims with a solemn voice, placing the penguin in plain sight.

"King of the tree, eh? I don’t know if the other ornaments will agree," you laugh, taking a golden star and adding it next to the penguin.

"The star is his queen. No discussion."

"How sweet are you, Bellingham?" You make fun of him by pulling his sleeve.

"I know, you don’t have to say it twice," he replies with a bold smirk.

As the tree takes shape, a slow and sweet song starts: "All I Want for Christmas Is You" by Mariah Carey. You stop for a moment and look at Jobe. He already looks at you with a tender smile, then reaches out to you.

"Shall we dance?" asks Jobe, looking at you softly.

"But we have to finish the tree," you try to answer, but your smile betrays you.

"The tree can wait. We cannot." His voice is soft and sincere.

You take a moment to look at him, then put your hand in his and he pulls you towards him gently. His hands are resting on your sides, and you wrap his neck, and place his head upon his chest. You could swear you heard his heartbeat.

"Are you happy?" he asks in a low voice, his cheek touching yours.

"Very happy," you whisper, closing your eyes as you move slowly to the rhythm of the music. "And you?"

"Happy isn’t even the right word," he replies, giving you a little kiss on the head. "With you I feel at home."

Your heart beats faster at those words. You hold him closer, without wanting to let go of that moment. The song goes on, and even though the world outside is cold and dark, here inside it’s all heat and light.

The song ends, but you don’t break. Stay leaning against his chest, with his arms wrapping around you.

"I must admit something," says Jobe, breaking the silence.

"What?" you ask, raising your head to look at it.

"If I had known that making the tree with you was so beautiful, I would have come to your house last year," he jokes, making you laugh.

"Fool," you say laughing, giving him a slight pat on the chest.

"Silly, but yours." He comes near and steals a sweet, slow kiss, the kind of kiss that smells like home, winter and sincere love.

And as the lights of the tree flicker softly behind you, you can’t help but think that this is the best Christmas of your life.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

More Than You Could Ever Know - Part 1

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: On god they're about to be so cute. This was going to be one chapter but they can't stop fucking and I can't stop writing. Enjoy!

Title from All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey

Word Count: 8.5k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: A No Love Lost Christmas Special! Takes place about five months after the end of No Love Lost, sort of an epilogue to the main story.

The Boys start Secret Santa, Ben pretends to do his job. Usual Warnings, plus smut. Much fluff and smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth rotting fluff, smut (fingering, oral f receiving, p in v sex), established relationship, Christmas Special

Part 2

Read on A03!

Doing this in Butcher’s apartment was a terrible idea, because the asshole only cleans when it’s his weekend with Ryan, and you’re right on the wrong end of that. Doing it immediately after work was a worse one, because you’re in heels and a too tight bra that you’re not allow to rip off, throw in Ben’s face, giggling when he all but tackles you into bed.

Doing it without Ben here to smile and pout and snark at might be the worst idea you’ve ever had.

And you’ve had a lot of remarkably fucking terrible ideas.

You’re not really paying attention to your friends around you, because you’re staring at your phone. Turning it around between your hands, waiting for Ben’s text to let you know Ryan’s home from school. That he’s not being bullied, and he’s doing his homework, and his powers didn’t cause what the principal had referred to as structural damage to the school’s foundation, and what Ben had correctly said was just a fucking accident. It’s not Ryan’s fault you pussies put the baseball field right next to the goddamn building.

There haven’t been any incidents since then—Ben had taken Ryan to a large, empty field and helped him figure out how to not turn a ball into a genuine weapon—but it’s still a delicate situation. It took a lot to get Ryan into a public school. A lot of promises of Ryan won’t hurt anyone, you fucking pussies, he’s not a damn baby, and bargains of Ben and I will donate, and go to all the fundraisers, but you’re not allowed to explicitly advertise that Ryan’s here, and many, many thinly veiled threats of if you don’t treat our son like a proper fucking human, I’ll let my wife yell at you. And she’ll rip you to fucking pieces.

You wouldn’t have ripped anyone to pieces. Literal pieces. Emotional pieces had been on the table, as had reputational pieces. It was one of the very few advantages of being so highly and strangely regarded as the woman who killed Homelander and the founder of the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. People respected you and your opinion, which was an interesting choice on their part, but served you well. Ryan had gotten into the school, and he seemed to be liking it, so you hadn’t even been that mad at Ben for threatening the superintendent.

But you also don’t really get mad at Ben. Not ever. You whack his arms and wrinkle your nose and elbow his gut, but he always feels that you don’t mean it, and you never fight him when he tugs you into his arms and kisses you breathless and dizzy. When he mutters promises about fucking you stupid later, and calls you a brat, and chuckles when you grind onto his thigh in the middle of the office, and you miss him so much-

It’s barely been six fucking hours, Sunshine.

You scowl into the air, even as your whole body sings from the feeling of Ben, strong and deep and flaring in your chest. Shut up, you’re supposed to be picking up Ryan-

Already got him. We’re home.

You were supposed to text me, Benjamin-

Why, I’m telling you right fucking now-

Because Singer’s still on our ass. You sigh, tapping your fingers on the back of your phone. And the Ben’o’phone isn’t admissible in a court of law to prove we’re well-suited parents.

Singer can shove it up his fucking dick-

Ben, please- You cut yourself off as your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a message.

Benjamin; Stupid fucking handsome asshole husband

Ryans hoem

R u fuckingg happy sunshine

You smile, typing back Yes. Thank you, grumpy.

Shut the fuck up, Ben grumbles in your head, and all his adoration flares in your chest as you smile into the air like an idiot.

I love you, you massive fucking man-child.

I love you too, brat. Why the fuck aren’t you home yet.

You can almost picture his half-pouting scowl, feel the warmth of his body around you and smell pine drifting through the air. Meeting with everyone.

Everyone.

Yep.

Why the fuck is everyone meeting without me-

Because you’re picking up Ryan.

We could’ve made fucking Butcher do that-

Butcher doesn’t have a super awesome wife who’s going to tell him everything when she gets home, my love.

There’s a pause, and then Ben mutters between the low words of your friends talking around you, Be fucking fast.

MM says your name, looking between you and the bowl on the center of the table. “You put Ben in there?”

I always am. You nod to MM as Ben moves back to a quiet, warm hum in your chest, and tuck your phone into your pocket. “Yeah. I’ll give him his name when I get home.”

“And we’re sure Ben knows how Secret Santa works?” Hughie scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish expression, and you sigh.

“No. But I can explain it to him.”

“Old cunt ever even celebrated Christmas?” Butcher mutters, his feet kicked up on the table. “He don’t seem like the spirit of givin’ type.”

You flip Butcher off, your words short and firm. “He’s not a million Butcher, he’s celebrated Christmas before.”

Ben seems to love Christmas. Or at least grumpily acknowledge it with a soft, easy glow over his ribs and a relaxed face, which is the closest thing he gets to loving something that’s not you or Ryan. He’d told you, at the beginning of the month, that it was the only time his father didn’t drink as much. The only time his mother got to love him and not be caught between he and his father’s fights. The only time he got something as a child that he wasn’t expected to feel sorry or wasteful for receiving. 

You wish there was some sort of supe that could communicate with ghosts or raise the dead. You’d mimic their powers, bring Ben’s father back, and then kill him again.

“Alright, Love.” Butcher raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Just makin’ sure.”

“Suck my fucking dick-“

“Can we, um,” Annie gives you an apologetic look as she cuts you off. “Can we draw? Now? Everyone has work tomorrow, and I would like to go home and eat my weight in sushi.”

Hughie nods, grinning down at Annie. “And watch Love Island.”

“Love Island?” MM raises his brows, and Annie blushes.

“It’s fun-“

“Names, cunts.” Butcher leans forward, pulling his paper, and looks around at the rest of the group. “Before time get’s all our sorry fuckin arses. Except yours. Love,” Butcher winks at you. “You’re stuck ‘ere till the sun goes out.”

“Eat me, Butcher.”

“Oi, I’m not above tellin the Gov you said that-“

“Ben would kick your sorry ass if you said that, Butcher.” MM’s voice is flat as he interrupts, leaning over the table to draw his paper. “You might be a supe now, but that motherfucker would beat up a mountain if it insulted her honor.”

You snort as Butcher’s sour expression, and give MM a grateful nod. Everyone here knows you don’t really have honor—at least not in a way that matters—but they also know that Ben doesn’t really care about that. His notion of your honor is subjective. You’re, apparently, above killing and straining labor, so he does that for you, but he also threatens congressmen and rude parents of Ryan’s classmates with his wife. You don’t lie to him, but he’s flat out encouraged you to commit perjury. He’d threatened a journalist who said you spread your legs for any powerful supe, but then shoved your knees apart to bury himself inside you and fuck you until you were a slurring, whiny mess under him.

It seems to mostly be about what you think of the insult. If that mountain called you a slut and you laughed, Ben would just glower, standing tall and ridged at your side. If it said the same thing and you stopped talking—cold spreading through your body and a ringing in your ears—Ben would make the mountain regret being born.

You miss him so fucking much.

Once everyone has a name and you’re sure no one’s pulled their own name, you leave Butcher’s apartment with grins and half-goodbyes. You, Annie, MM, and Hughie will all see each other tomorrow, and Frenchie, Kimiko, and Butcher will do the same.

It’s a short drive home from Butcher’s apartment, but that’s by design. For Ryan. Butcher lives in the city, and you and Ben are in the outskirt suburbs. You’d say Ben’s benefitting more from this arrangement—Butcher lives right above their office, while you have to drive to downtown for yours—but you’re the one who fought for this. The one who convinced Ben that Philadelphia would be a good place to live, because there was enough to not get bored, not enough that you’d never have peace, and it was halfway between New York and Washington. Most of the supe cleanup contracts that Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko got contracted for ended up being in New York—you’ve called Ben a murder maid several times, and he always rolls his eyes, kisses the top of your head, and mutters we don’t fucking murder people, we just get them in line when they’re being damn idiots—while a lot of your work is in DC, dealing with the more technical side of the post-Vought mess.

Ben hadn’t wanted you to call it the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. He’d scowled at you as you’d told him and MM the idea, and their glares had been almost identical.

“There’s no fucking way you’re calling it that.” Ben had snapped, and MM had shot him a look of surprise.

“I mean, not that I don’t agree,” MM had said, scanning over Ben with a frown. “But why the hell do you think that.”

“Because Soldier Boy’s fucking dead. You,” he’d bumped his shoulder with yours, rough affection spreading over his ribs, even as he continued to glower. “Fucking killed him, Sunshine. Don’t use that name.”

You’d wrinkled your nose at him. “First of all, that’s very romantic, Pretty Boy. I’ve always wanted to metaphorically murder my husband.”

Brat-

“But,” you’d continued, kicking Ben’s shin as he’d started to smirk. “I have reasons to name it that.”

MM had scoffed. “There is not a chance you’ve got reasons to justify using that name-“

“It will draw attention.” You’d raised your fingers as you listed the reasons, using a bored, plain tone. “The whole point of this is to get as many victims of Vought and Homelander as much help as possible. Labelling it with Soldier Boy’s name will put it on people’s radar-“

“So would calling it the Starlight or Anomaly relief Foundation-“

You’d shaken your head, giving MM a flat look. “Annie’s supe name is already tainted in the public eye. Mine is controversial. If people hear the Anomaly Relief Foundation, they’ll form an automatic opinion based on the trials and news stories they’ve read. Soldier Boy will get people to actually look at what we’re doing. Older victims will be more likely to come out of the woodwork, supes that admired Ben growing up will be more willing to see what we’re offering them, and congress is full of old white assholes who will love it.”

MM had frowned, but nodded for you to continue, and you’d raised a second finger.

“Vought’s copyright on Soldier Boy expired last year, but Starlight and the Anomaly won’t be available for public use for another forty. Even if Vought goes down, they could drag us with them on petty litigations and technicalities, and we don’t need that right now. Finally,” you’d raised a third finger. “I think it’s poetic, and funny, and rubbing how we won in Homelander stupid dead face.”

You’d won that argument. And the argument about where to live. And the argument about letting Butcher have alternate weekends with Ryan.

That last one had been the easiest to win. For the name debate you’d had to convince Ben and MM, and for the city debate you’d had to convince the whole team of stubborn assholes you called your friends, but for the last one you’d only had to convince Ben. And you always convince Ben. He puts up a grumbled argument, and you tear down his points with teasing, loving words, and he gives in with a grunt. But you always see his small grin, and feel all his love and care and affection bursting from that piece of him near your heart, and he devours your face and neck and cunt until your knees get weak and you almost fall over.

You might love him more than life.

He’s waiting for you when you get home. You barely open the door before he’s on you, sweeping you into a long, deep kiss and groaning down your throat.

Hi, Benjamin. You mumble between your heads, and his chuckle rolls through your whole body.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grins at you as he pulls away, hauling you up his chest as you gape at him a little stupidly. It’s not fair how he somehow keeps getting more handsome, how a domestic, peaceful life looks so good on him it might drive you insane. How his shirt under your hands is clean and soft and easy to tug on, to pull him back onto your mouth. How, when you finally get your shoes off, they’re on a mat right next to his, and that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. How his beard is so well-trimmed because there’s nothing to rush for, and the whole house smells like pine because of Ben’s constant presence, and when he carries you up the stairs he doesn’t bother to look where he’s going because he already has the path memorized.

“Wait,” you push up on Ben’s chest, dropping your chin on his shoulder. “Ryan-“

“Hi!” Ryan calls your name from downstairs. “I’m doing homework!”

Don’t know how the fuck he’s my blood. Ben mutters in your head, never breaking his pace. He’s all damn smart and good at homework. “You know the drill, Kid?”

“Dinner in forty, only bother you if it’s an emergency!”

Smug pride inflates in Ben’s chest, and when you lean back he’s already grinning at you with darkened, blown out eyes, his half-hard cock already poking at your thigh.

You wrinkle your nose at him. We are not fucking with Ryan in the house.

We fuck with Ryan in the house all the damn time-

When he’s asleep, or watching TV, or has his headphones on. Not when he can hear it.

Then we’ll have him put headphones on-

You are not asking Ryan to use his headphones so we can have sex. You give Ben’s borderline pout a sweet smile, and lean forward to kiss over his beard. But when he goes to bed, I’ll let you do the thing.

Ben’s hunger grows white-hot and ravenous in your body, and when you meet his eyes, they’re darkened and peeling you apart. You have to squirt.

I can’t control that-

Whatever. Ben kicks open the door to your room, shooting you a wink. You have to let me make you fucking squirt, beautiful. No holding back.

You snort. When have you ever held back during sex.

I managed not to fuck you for six goddamn months. His voice is almost a growl in your head, and it’s not help your resolve to not have sex in the slightest. That’s some goddamn restraint, brat. He drops his mouth to that one spot on your throat, sucking and biting until your fingers curl in his hair. You’re fucking hot.

Thanks. Your voice is breathless, even between your heads, and you give a weak pull of Ben’s hair that only spurs him on. Wait, Ben, I need to talk to you-

That makes his pull away in an instant, his attention vigilant as he scans over your face, your skin suddenly wrapped in his concrete resolve. What the fuck is-

Nothing’s wrong. You take his face between your hands, giving him a soft smile. It’s about the meeting with everyone.

The one that you didn’t fucking invite me to.

The one, you swat at his arm, sticking your tongue out. That I’m trying to tell you about now, you big baby.

Fine. Ben grumbles in your head, watching you expectantly. What.

Have you ever done Secret Santa before?

Once. Vought party in the 80s.

You raise your brows at him. Really? How did that go?

I don’t fucking remember-

Well, it was forty years ago. You hold his face between your hands with a mock pout. Is your memory going, Benjamin? Do Ryan and I have to put you in a home-

Shut the fuck up, brat. Ben moves you flat on your back, kissing a very distracting line along your jaw as your finger curl in his hair.

Ben- You tug him back up—because if he keeps that up, you’ll never get around to telling him anything except more—and the asshole rises up with his hunger covering your bones and muscles, his body big and warm and strong over yours-

“Yes, darling?” Ben drawls, smirking down at you, and you scowl.

“You’re such a fucking cunt-“

“You love it,” he shrugs, still hovering over your body. “Tell me what the fuck the meeting was about to so I,” he pushes his knee between your thighs. “Can focus on this.”

Not with Ryan in the house-

You’ll just have to be quiet. He presses his knee up, bumping right over your clit, and grins at your small whine. Tell me about the meeting.

We’re, fuck- You grind pathetically against him, and Ben drops his weight to down to trap you against the mattress stilling the movements. You dick-

I’ll give you my dick. He kisses you once, long and slow, guiding your arms fully around his neck. Just use your fucking words, beautiful.

It’s a miracle you remember how words work, let alone say any of them, because Ben dives back down to your neck—keeping you pinned down as he works you into a gasping, writhing mess under him—and everything becomes very simply Ben in your mind and body.

“I, um,” he nips at your throat, and you have to swallow a moan. “Kimiko wanted to do something, for the Holidays, and Hughie suggested Secret Santa, so we’re, fuck, Ben, we’re doing that-“

Ben rises back up to frown at you, and you whine at the loss. “Doing what.”

“Secret Santa,” you whisper, taking the moment of his distraction to wrap your legs around his torso. “I put your name in, and, um,” you let go of him for a second, fumbling around in your pocket for Ben’s paper, folded neatly while yours was crumpled. “I grabbed yours.”

Ben wraps an arm around you as he sits up, pulling you to fall over his chest and curl in his lap. “That,” he nods to the paper, still in your hand. “Is who I have to get the gift for.”

You nod with a hum, passing it into his hand. “I didn’t look,” you say, watching him un-wrinkle it. “So don’t-“

“Butcher?” Ben looks up at you with a scowl, a hot, stinging itch spreading over his skin and sitting in his fingers. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with Butcher.”

You sigh. “Tell me. Don’t tell me, Ben.”

“I had to fucking tell you,” he snaps your name, glaring at the paper. “I can’t get a gift for fucking Butcher, all he does is fucking work and pussy around, fucking asshole probably doesn’t even want anything like a normal damn human-“

“There has to be something.” You mumble, tapping your fingers on Ben’s arm. “We’ll figure it out, Ben. I’ll help you. But you can’t tell anyone I did, and you have to pretend you don’t think this is stupid-“

“I don’t think it’s stupid-”

You give him a flat look. “Benjamin-“

“I think Butcher’s a fucking ball strainer.” Ben shrugs, fisting his paper into a ball and tossing it onto the floor. “But I’ve got you, Sunshine, so I’m good.”

You flush, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Ball strainer’s a new one. I like it.”

“Good,” Ben mutters, relaxing under your hands, the glow returning in his chest. “Who the fuck did you get.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why the fuck not, I told you mine-“

“Which you weren’t supposed to do.” You give him a flat look, and he rolls his eyes. “It’s Secret Santa. You’ll find out with everyone else.

“What’s the fucking point of being married,” Ben grumbles, pulling you a little further up his chest. “If my wife won’t tell me all her secrets.”

“You already know all my secrets, Benjamin.”

“Not fucking all of them-“

“This isn’t a secret.” You smile at him, and the glow spreads up his spine. “It’s a surprise.”

“Whatever.” He grumbles. “Sounds like a fucking secret.”

You kiss his cheek with a soft hum. “Grumpy-“

Your words die in a yelp as Ben flips you over, crashing his mouth into yours with a fervor, his hands squeezing and kneading at your waist.

“Brat,” he growls, and you have to bite your tongue to hold down a loud plea of his name. “I’m going to fuck you stupid, Sunshine, make you fucking drool and beg.” He bites on your lower lip, his knee pushing back to your core, and you whimper. “But you need to keep quiet.”

You will not be able to keep quiet. You’re grinding desperately against him, your mouth slack and open, and your whole body warm and sensitive and buzzing with Ben. Leaving wet, open kisses down your neck, replacing his knee with a broad hand cupping your pussy, groaning onto your skin as he twitches against your thigh.

“Ben-“

“Do you need some fucking help?” He drawls, crawling back up over you with a smirk. “Can’t keep that smart, pretty mouth closed?”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side, running one finger between your folds. “God, Ben, fuck you-“

“I will.” He winks at you, his whole body still filled with adoration and hunger as his tone becomes stern. “Just ask real fucking nice, and I’ll fuck you all you damn want, Sunshine.”

“Ben, please-“

“Think you can keep it the fuck down?”

You nod frantically as Ben’s thumb moves to your clit, rubbing around it but never on it. A metallic tang sits in your mouth as you chew through your cheek, and Ben must see the tint of red or feel the sting of pain, because he pulls back suddenly, and you can’t stop your moan of protest.

“Not going to let you fucking hurt yourself.” He mutters, raising your legs up as he pulls off your underwear. You can talk here, he balls up the cloth, rising back up over your body. But that’s it. Got it?

You glance at the underwear in his hand, and swallow as you realize what he means, your mouth falling open without a single other thought.

Fucking words-

Got it. You smile up at him, curling a hand in his shirt to tug him down into a deep, easy kiss, pulling his tongue between your teeth. Fuck me.

He rises back up, scanning over your features with an attentive, rough care that pulls you apart and makes your whole body molten. There’s a sharp, sore ache over his skin and in his muscles, his free hand trailing slowly over your thighs, and God, if he doesn’t fuck you right now you might die.

Please, Ben. You grind up into the air, letting all of your love and thirst for him leak out of your body and into his. Please.

You can see the moment it hits him. His eyes flash, his nostrils flare, and if there was anything holding him back from just fucking you it’s gone. He presses his thumb on your lower lip in a silent request for you to open, and when you do he looks almost feral. He groans as he stuffs your panties into your mouth, tracing broad fingers over your cheekbones and squeezing your waist as he draws back.

Going to go slow, he mutters in your head, angling your hips up into the air so your ass is resting on his thighs, your dripping pussy is fully at his mercy. Take my fucking time.

Ben-

He slaps your pussy once, and your moan is muffled as your eyes roll back in your head.

So fucking wet, he says your name in the silence, smirking at you as he repeats the movement and your hips buck into the air. And fucking needy, already whining and I’ve barely damn touched you-

Please, you widen your eyes at him, your fingers curling in the sheets when he drags his thumb up, over your slit, and presses hard on your clit. Fuck, Ben-

What do you want, darling. He presses his thumb down, angling it so he can tease your already fluttering cunt with two forefingers. You want my fingers? He shoves them deep into you, crooking them as they hit that deep, soft spot that makes everything in your body sing.

Fuck-

Or, he kisses a sloppy path down your chest—pausing only to flick his tongue over your nipple and smirk at your high, muffled noise of need—and moves one hand back to your hips, adjusting you further upwards as he buries his face between your legs. My mouth?

His beard brushes and tickles your thighs as he tongue-fucks you, his nose bumping your clit, and God, it’s everything. Ben’s everything. Just the sight of him—in all his stupid, handsome glory, all of it just for you—makes you dizzy. And he’s touching you like you’re holy and grinning against your cunt as you make high, muffled sounds, and you’re so close already and he’s so good-

Ben. You don’t have to the strength to push up on your elbows and fully look at him, and he’s holding you still with big, warms hands that pull and rub at your skin, so all you can do is moan into the mock-gag and arch your back when he licks a rough stripe up your cunt. Fuck, Ben, I need you, please-

He hums against you, flattening his tongue on your clit as one hand snakes back under your ass, playing and teasing around your cunt, never pushing in. You like this, darling? Like getting my mouth and fingers the needy fucking miracle you are, like it when I fucking worship your perfect pussy-

Yes, please-

He shoves two fingers back into you, pumping and scissoring as he flicks his tongue over that bundle of nerves. Tell me how good it feels, Sunshine, talk to me-

So good, you whine, and he chuckles in a way that rolls right into the tight coil near your gut. Fuck, Ben, fuck me, please-

That what you want? He rises back up with one last suck of your clit, leaving you whining and empty and fuck, he’s so handsome and all yours and looking at you like you’re some sort of god-

Benjamin-

His cock slaps on your clit—you don’t even know when he took off his pants, because everything is just a haze of warm and pine and Ben and good—and you fucking squeal.

You want my fucking cock, beautiful? Want me to make you squirt all over my fucking dick, fuck you like you deserve, fuck you until that smart, pretty mouth is fucking drooling and screaming my name-

Please, you hook your legs around his waist, trying to guide him inside you. Want you-

Beg.

I did, you asshole- The gag barely muffles your moan as Ben teases the head of his cock inside you, and you almost fly off the bed. Fuck, please-

More.

Please, Ben, please fuck me, please-

Good girl. He pushes himself inside you without further warning, primal satisfaction glowing over his ribs and abdomen as ghosting, iridescent fire covers your skin. So fucking beautiful, he growls your name between your heads, dragging himself out and slamming back in with a bruising force. Fucking perfect. So tight and wet for me, Sunshine, always so fucking good-

Ben groans as you squeeze around him, but he doesn’t pick up the pace. He just moves your hips a little higher, towering over you as he slowly thrusts in and out of your aching pussy.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn marvel, beautiful, feel like fucking heaven, could die here-

Ben, you whimper around your underwear, somehow finding the strength to reach up to him. Please, faster-

It’s all he needs. Ben’s praise becomes slurred as he fucks into you at an inhuman pace, his skin slapping sinfully against yours and his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust.

Christ, fuck- He falls over you, kissing over your collarbone before sucking on your neck, his movements becoming jerking and uncontrolled. You’re- fuck- Such a good girl, taking my cock so fucking good, fucking made for me, best fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, fucking love you-

You’re so close. Everything in you is alight and desperate for release, and you’re only a split second from begging for it when Ben groans against you, rising up to watch you with a devout, starved focus you can feel pounding in your heart.

You’re perfect. His voice in your head is deep and so fucking hungry, and you whimper. Cum, Sunshine.

Release rips through your body, and Ben rips your underwear out of your mouth, slamming his lips over yours and kissing you into the mattress. You scream down his throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, and when something warm and wet flows out of your pussy, Ben’s cock starts to jerk and spill into you. It’s so warm and blissful and made of Ben’s ardor and pleasure, and it sends you over the edge once more.

Neither of you try to move for a minute, Ben’s brow dropping to yours as you sit in his safe, certain warmth.

“We’ve got dinner.” He mutters, kissing the space between your eyes as he pulls out of you. “Go shower, beautiful.”

“You need to shower as well-“

“I’ll shower after.” Ben shrugs, rubbing on your thigh as he sits on the edge of the mattress. “You’re a bigger mess than me, darling.”

“Then I,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes, jagged affection flaring in his body. “And I’m only a mess because you’re a tease, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorts, leaning down to give you one last, soft kiss. “You love it,” he mutters onto your lips. “See you downstairs.”

You don’t move for a while after the door closes behind him, and you don’t know how long passes when Ben sparks in your chest, his words low in your head.

Move, Sunshine. Dinner’s almost ready.

Shut up. You smile at the ceiling, because he’d known you would still just be lying, fucked out, in bed. I hate you.

No you don’t. You fucking love me. 

I’m allowed to feel two things, cunt.

But you don’t, brat. Say it.

You roll your eyes, pushing up on the bed. I love you, you dick.

I love you too. You feel him glow in your body, and you shuffle to find where Ben had tossed your pants. See you in ten.

You nod mindlessly into the air, and pull your own paper out, smiling easily at the name. See you soon, my love.

—————

Ben worked in a fucking office. He did a goddamn commute every weekday, got dropped off at a fucking office, received a paper bag and a kiss on the cheek from his wife, then worked from nine to fucking five.

In a fucking office.

At a fucking desk.

Ben had a fucking desk. With a computer and stupid chair that spun in a circle and a mug that his son had gotten him. It said World’s Greatest Grandpa, and his wife had almost fallen over laughing when Ben showed it to her.

You think that’s fucking funny, Sunshine-

I know it’s funny, Benjamin. She’s kissed him, alive and beautiful in his arms, leaning into his body like she’d never want to be anywhere else. And they were out of Dad mugs, so it was either that or you being the World’s Best Mom.

Ben had rolled his eyes, then kept that mug where he could see it all the time. At his desk.

In his fucking office.

His office with a horrible fucking paint job, and lights that barely worked, and a printer that he had no damn idea how to use. It was why he made Kimiko print out photos of Her and Ryan, and he spent most of the day just fucking staring at them and bothering Her through the brain connection while she worked.

Because Ben was—as She’d call it—being a dramatic fucking man child. He only actually went in once or twice a week, for briefs on new missions and paperwork on old ones. The worst part of the whole fucking thing was that he still couldn’t figure out the fucking computer, and every few weeks he had to sleep at a hotel in New York for a case. In reality he got paid damn well, woke up next to the most beautiful woman in fucking history every morning, and picked his son up from school every afternoon. He got to do work he didn’t hate, and work with people who he—against his fucking will—liked enough not to kill.

Butcher was calling it a Private Military Company. She called it Supe Cleanup. And murder maid, but most supe cleanup.

She was fucking right. In all the jobs Butcher had found for them, exactly two had been non-supe related. And whatever She said was the goddamn truth anyway, because no matter what Butcher claimed, they worked for Her. She got Neuman to give them all their damn cases, was the one who funded a lot of their fucking bullshit, and She dealt with most of the aftermath. Butcher wouldn’t say it because he was a pathetic fucking pussy, and She wouldn’t say it because she was too kind for her own damn good, but everyone else knew.

She was the fucking boss. She called the shots, and looked damn hot doing it. She was the one who killed Homelander—all Butcher had done was shoot a fucking gun, any asscuck with eyes and hands could’ve done that—and the one who built this shit up in a matter of months. She had the ideas for the supe reform programs, and employed all the lawyers who represented the countless victims of Vought and Homelander. Christ, She even got Butcher the damn license to be a private contractor, and convinced that Defense Secretary pussy to hire them the post-Vought efforts. She was the one with a real damn job.

Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko sat around until someone told them there was work to do, and then they damn did it and went home.

She testified before congress. She dealt with all the fucking press idiots, and offered the supes second chances the pussies didn’t deserve, and made sure everyone got their reparations. Ben wasn’t really sure what the fuck the actual mission statement of Her whole thing was—She’d explained it, tits pressed together as she crossed her arms, and he hadn’t remembered all her big, fancy fucking words—but he knew she was doing something good. She ran a real company, not a group of four fucking assholes.

“It’s not a company, Benjamin.” She’d told him, straddling his torso and pouting down at him as his hands kneaded her skin. “It’s a non-profit.”

“What’s the damn difference,” he’d grumbled, and she’d sighed, tapping her fingers on his chest.

“Well, if it’s a company I don’t get any government funding. And as a non-profit we get exempt from certain taxes, and it lends us a certain credibility, which is important because a lot of people aren’t going to trust us. Which I understand, this is a mess, but we also can’t give the media or public anything that might lend to confirmation bias-“

Ben had pulled Her down as she started to spiral into a fucking overdrive, and kissed her until she relaxed in his arms.

Don’t fucking hurt yourself, Sunshine. He’d muttered. You had me with ‘well’.

That was- She’d let out a small gasp as Ben nipped on her upper lip, her voice breathy in their heads. I hadn’t even started talking-

I know. He’d smirked against Her, rolling them over so he could look down at Her beautiful face, how it was open and easy and all his to keep joyful. You have me all the damn time, darling.

Good. She’d smiled up at him, Ben might have drowned in how fucking perfect she was. Because you have me as well.

He didn’t have Her now. Ben had Her everywhere in the world, except in his arms. She was in the flicking, golden light of the office, and the off-key, horrible fucking humming Butcher was doing across the room, and wallpaper of his phone. Both She and Ryan were in pieces all over Ben’s desk as well. Not just in the pictures, but the little paper guide She’d made him to the internet. It told him how shit like URLs and emails and incognito mode worked, and it was in Her handwriting because She loved him enough to help him with this. Ryan had contributed, and drawn a little fucking smile on the corner of one of the pages, and Ben kept it open to that section all the damn time.

Ryan was mostly in that stupid damn mug that Ben kept on his desk every moment, even when he wasn’t using it.

She was mostly in the ring on Ben’s finger. Matching Her’s, the only thing he ever owned that he gave a shit about. He’d had houses and trophies and diamonds and stupid fucking crystal plates that barely damn worked, but they’d all been replaceable. This ring wasn’t. It was made of all the stupid scrap Frenchie had found in the pawn shop, and fireproof because his beautiful, perfect wife was a fucking menace.

And She wasn’t fucking replaceable. The ring proved that Ben had Her—alive in his body and consuming his every damn thought—and he’d never fucking lose Her. He simply fucking refused to, because he’d never, ever be able to find someone he knew how to love half as much. Christ, he’d never had a goddamn chance, because loving Her might be the only thing Ben had ever been a natural at. He’d learned how to do it without effort, like it was something he was born for, and he’d never want to do anything else again. He was the only pussy in the world who was worthy of it, as well.

Ben was worthy of Her, because he fucking understood that She was priceless and holy. That loving Her was a task, but fuck it was worth it. Every nightmare and hollow, glassy stare when she retreated back into pain—the feeling like torture in Ben’s body, making him feel fucking sick until she smiled again—was well worth it to love Her. Worth how he might not be the only one who got to see all Her damn perfection on the surface—beauty and kindness and smart words that came with a smarter fucking brain—but it was Ben alone who got to see everything. The whole picture of this insane, infuriating, perfect woman.

And fuck, She was a masterpiece. And She was all fucking Ben’s. All his to tend to and hold, all his to throw around and fight besides, all his to grin at and care for and really fucking love. All Ben’s to give the whole damn world, and then reduce it all to a moan of his name when he fucked Her. When he buried his head in Her pretty pussy that tasted like a heady, slightly bitter, powerful fucking drug and rubbed Her clit until she squirted all over his fucking face. All Ben’s to trace with worshipping, firm hands, all Ben’s to get fucking high on.

Because sometimes he’d have his hand braced near Her head as he fucked her, and she’d be a needy fucking mess under him, and he’d trace fingers over Her lips and cheekbones before brushing the hair from Her face.

And his ring would catch the light through their blind shades.

And Ben would lose his fucking mind.

He’d hit a pace that was inhuman, and kiss Her everywhere he could fucking reach. Breathing would feel pointless, because he had his wife under him, screaming his name and being the only thing in the whole world that mattered. All of Ben’s existence would narrow to his mouth on her own, or kissing at Her breasts, or sucking on her clit. His hands would be for squeezing and pulling Her skin, or tracing and teasing over her perfect body, or thrusting fingers in and out of Her pussy. Shoving them deep enough his ring would come out covered in her arousal, crooking them until she was pleading and whining under him, and tasting Her when he pulled them out, leaving Her ruined and whimpering on the edge.

And he’d split Her open on his cock, make Her say his name like a prayer, and fuck Her until she squirted all over his cock and he could pump her full of his cum-

Stop distracting me, Benjamin.

I didn’t fucking do anything. He drawled Her name between their heads, smirking into the air. You’re the one who’s distracting me, brat.

Shut up, you’re probably at your desk watching baseball. And you know what you fucking did.

Ben rolled his eyes, turning off his monitor, and with it the MBA game. I don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, Sunshine, you spoke first-

Because you started getting horny and loud in my brain, and I’m at work. I can’t start masturbating while I talk to MM and Hughie, they’ll never look me in the eyes again.

Tell them to fucking leave.

I’m not kicking them out of our meeting so we can have mind sex.

You’ve kicked them out so we can have real sex-

Ben could almost see the wrinkle of Her nose. That’s not the same, you looked like you were going to kill them if they didn’t leave-

I hadn’t seen you in a fucking week-

Three days, don’t be dramatic-

And, Ben ignored Her, pushing on. Those pussies chose to leave, it’s not like I fucking threatened them-

They could see your boner, my love. Her voice was bored and amused in his head, and Ben wanted to fucking eat the sound and turn it into a moan. And you almost broke down my door demanding we go on a date, and I quote, ‘right fucking now’-

We should go on a date-

Ben-

Tonight, darling, keep your damn head on. You can stash Ryan at Butcher’s, the asshole looks fucking lonely anyway-

Don’t call it stashing, Ben-

Fine, drop him there after you pick him up-

I was actually, um, I was going to- She paused, and Ben could almost hear her nervous swallow. I wanted to ask, and you can say no, but I-

Words, darling-

Could you pick up Ryan today? I have to go do something.

Ben frowned into the air. Something.

Her voice hummed in his head. Yeah.

Are you going to fucking tell me-

No. It’s a surprise.

It’s a fucking secret-

Ben. Her voice was soft and gentle in his head, and that alone made his frown drop to what She called a pout.

What.

If it was a secret, I would’ve told you I’m working late, or going out with Annie and Kimiko, or something else stupid. But it’s not a secret, I just can’t tell you right now.

She was right. She was always fucking right, and Ben had an idea what this was, but he still missed Her. Wanted to touch her and walk with her and make Her bury her face in his arm when he teased her. You’re going to fucking tell me.

I promise that, by the end of the month, I will have told you. And we can do that date on Christmas eve. Whatever you want.

You don’t have to damn bribe me-

I know. She sighed in the silence, and something in Ben ached as Her own guilt clouded over his eyes. But I want to go on a date with you. And I really want to tell you what I’m doing-

You’re getting a gift. Ben said between their heads, and there was a brief silence before She responded.

Shut up.

Ben drawled Her name, grinning at the air. You’re going to get your gift for the stupid fucking Santa thing-

No, I need to go to the mall for that. Actually, She paused, and Ben felt a smile tug at his lips as he pictured Her pretty face starting into the air, her fingers tapping her desk or leg. Could you take Ryan to the mall? Help him get his gifts? And maybe new pants, I think he grew again-

You have to go with us to get the tree.

If Her nose hadn’t been wrinkling before, it sure as fuck was now. I thought I didn’t have to bribe you, Pretty Boy-

It’s not a fucking bribe, Sunshine, it’s a deal. You go do your secret shit-

My surprise shit-

And I’ll get Ryan and do the fucking shopping. But we’re doing that date, and you’re coming with us for the tree.

Okay. Deal. Ben?

He grunted Her name between their heads, and something warm spread over his whole body at the sound of Her sweet, sharp, infinitely adoring voice.

I love you. She whispered. Thank you-

Don’t. Ben muttered. I love you too. But if you’re not home by midnight I’m finding you and carrying you back.

Her giggle was soft in the silence of the office, and Ben didn’t bother to fight the wide grin on his face. Promise?

Brat.

Cunt.

She faded back into a quiet, perfect presence over Ben’s skull, and now he actually had to damn work. But then he’d get to pick Ryan up—Ben didn’t fucking know how shopping worked without Her there, and he didn’t think Ryan would either, but they’d figure it out—and kiss Her dumb when she got back from whatever the hell she was doing.

She’d tell him. Ben didn’t have a single fucking doubt She’d tell him, because they didn’t keep secrets from each other. Ben could feel Her all the fucking time, and knew exactly where she was across the city, and he didn’t have a single damn desire to keep anything from Her at all. He didn’t see the point in it. That’s what fucking marriage was for, Ben giving his everything to Her, while She gave every part of her right back.

It’s why he was so fucking ready for the holidays. Ben hadn’t had a real Christmas since he was fucking six or seven. They’d either been spent at boarding schools or in military camps through his youth, or at drug-fueled parties through his career. Or just fucking alone. When everyone had people to go to that they cared about more, and Ben didn’t have a single fucking person who saw him as their person.

He’d told Her that, and something soft and pained had flashed over her beautiful face as she held his face between his hands. He’d expected an age joke—So in a hundred fucking years, Pretty Boy?—but all he’d gotten was a gentle, slow kiss and loving words.

You’re my person, Benjamin. She’d mumbled against his lips. And as long as you’re stuck with that, we can do whatever you want for Christmas.

I’m not fucking stuck with it, he’d grumbled, hauling Her up his chest. I love you, Sunshine, you’re not getting rid of me until I fucking die.

She’d hummed, smiling at him. So in like a year, old man?

Ben had rolled his eyes—there She was—and kissed Her until she was squirming above him, then fucked up into her as she screamed his name.

And he didn’t really fucking want much else. There were to many damn traditions for this shit. Activities he didn’t understand, and mistletoe he didn’t fucking care about—he didn’t need a damn plant to tell him when to kiss his wife—and cards that were fucking pointless because they had six friends who they saw every damn day.

He wanted to do some of it though. Ben wanted to eat all the food, and watch whatever movie She told him to—he didn’t understand how a movie about the Grinch could be the best Christmas movie ever fucking made, Benjamin, but he’d watch most anything if She sat with him —and he really wanted to do the tree. To get a big one that made the whole house smell good, and he could cover it in stupid lights.

It should be rainbow lights. She’d fucking love rainbow lights, so Ben should get rainbow lights.

Ben should get them a lot of fucking things. He should get Ryan whatever the hell the kid needed to be a kid, and Ben hadn’t been a kid since the fucking 20s, so he’d have to ask Her and see what that shit looked like now. Probably sports gear, and a real phone that wasn’t a damn brick, and a trip to some museums because Ryan was like Her, and they both liked smart shit, and museums were full of smart shit.

She should get a trip to a museum as well, just Her and Ben. She should get twenty more houses, and a massive library that was just for Her to be a genius in, and as many breaks and vacations as Ben could drag her on. Back to their villa in Rome every summer, and up to Boston to visit Her sister, and every other beautiful place in the world.

She should get the fucking world. Ben should be able to drag the sun down from the sky for Her to hold, and break of a piece of the moon for Her to touch.

But this—a normal, easy holiday where Ben could buy find Her something as perfect as she was for a gift—was going to be damn good place to start.

End Note: It was bold of any of them to think Ben would be able to keep any sort of secret from Her.

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Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @ej13928

@deansbbyx

[freshsturns]

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑴𝑨𝑺 | 𝑴.𝑺

𝒔𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔: y/n and matt have liked each other for years, it’s christmas time. matt and y/n are being super flirty, so chris and nick plan to tease them with the mistletoe causing things to progress. this is little collab with @mwahsturns ୭

fluff, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, p in v, swearing, praise, teasing, flirting, pet names, aftercare, mentions of drugs.

2.5k words!

christmas is exactly three weeks away, it has always been a stressful time of the year, especially these last few years.

between me landing a job at a nursing home, two hours away from our home in la, and the boys with their youtube career we rarely have moments when we’re all together. this year, we didn’t even find the time to decorate.

christmas is my favourite holiday, i love when we can all come together and just have fun, stress free. the boys need it especially with everything they have going on with their career.

I absolutely love buying everyone gifts especially because I know them so well i know exactly what can make them feel special. I love putting a smile on their faces, seeing them happy is so therapeutic to me as they’ve done so much for me for so many years.

i know matt so well, i know exactly what he wants this year. well, maybe i was ease dropping a little when he was yapping about what he wanted to nick and chris a few days ago. but we’ve always had some strange bond which makes us closer, so i just had to make sure i bought him what he wanted.

i think that decorating for christmas is what makes the holiday so special, and that’s what makes this moment, right now so special. matt, nick and chris had pre filmed the video that is due tomorrow and i finally have christmas break so it’s the perfect time to begin decorating!

-

matt and i had finally gotten the decorations out from the garage while nick and chris walked to the grocery store. we started putting ornaments on the tree, as christmas music softly filled the home.

‘don’t put em too close together’ he smirks. ‘i know what I’m doing, matthew’ i laugh continuing putting the ornaments on.

he smiles taking the lights out of a box staring at me and smiling as he untangles the lights. i smile then look back at him.

‘what?’ i laugh, he shakes his head still smiling. ‘no it’s nothing’ i know him too well, he’s lying. ‘oh come on tell me’

he smiles. ‘you’re just- idk I’m just glad your here.’ he smiles eventually looking down as he finishes untangles them, now wrapping them around the tree. ‘I’m glad to be here’ I smile nudging his shoulder.

after we finished the tree matt and i decided to bake some brownies. ‘how are you feeling about that trip to Boston?’

matts lips turn revealing with that perfect smile then continued mixing the brownie mix. ‘i’m excited, i mean i’m sad you’re not coming though’ i look up at him with glistening eyes. whenever he says things like that it makes my heart melt in ways I can’t even begin to explain.

i’ve liked him for so long now, i’ve never done anything about it though because i’m terrified of ruining our relationship, our bond is so special and i would hate to ruin it. i look down at the brownie mix, sticking my index finger in and gliding it along the inside of the bowl and licking my finger clean.

‘oh hush, you’ll be having so much fun you won’t realize I’m not there’ i smile spreading butter over the pan. ‘of course i will, i’ll always need you around’ he lets out a small laugh shaking his head slightly before pouring the brownie mix into the pan.

matt takes in a breath and before i could say anything he picks up the pan. ‘come on silly let’s get these in the oven’ i nod slightly with a grin, walking beside him.

nick and chris swing open the door walking inside. ‘we’re back and we brought food!’ chris yells making me snap my head at the sudden noise, matt looked at me as we roll our eyes looking at the two.

‘oh wow, the house looks good’ nick says surprised, placing the bag down. ‘couldn’t have done it without her’ matt smiles indicating to me before nudging my shoulders as i blush softly cleaning up the counter.

‘y’all are so cute’ chris sings. ‘don’t make this weird, chris’ i say pretending to be annoyed but gosh, i can’t help but wish it was true. ‘we’re just friends’ Matt says unsure but hiding it. my heart sinks at his words, ‘just’ but it’s true, we are just friends.

minutes pass, we’re all talking about the plans for christmas while we wait for the brownies, when Matt grabs my shoulder.

‘oh, you got a little something here’ he says getting closer to my face placing his hand on my cheek as he wipes off some brownie batter from my bottom lip. He looked at my lips then into my eyes, we stared at each other for a moment completely ignoring the fact nick and chris are right there.

nick looks at chris and signals him upstairs, as they head upstairs into nick’s bedroom and shuts the door behind them. ‘what’s wrong?’ chris crosses his arms looking at Nick.

‘dude, you’re seeing this shit right?’ nick smiles and he continues ‘they clearly like each other’ chris smirks ‘i mean they’re not very subtle, they’re just to stubborn to admit it.’

nick nods. ‘I have an idea’ chris looks intrigued. ‘go on.’

‘what if we were to hold the mistletoe over there heads, they’re gonna have to kiss.’ chris nods. ‘then they might finally confess their feelings, like where your heads at. alright let’s go’ they grab the mistletoe and head back downstairs to see y/n and matt standing by the tree.

'no we have to watch home alone! it's so much better than the polar express!' i giggle, matt and i were discussing which movie to watch later, when chris unexpectedly runs up behind matt holding something up above our heads. i look up to see it was a mistletoe. 'chris, what are you doing?'

chris smirks as he looks over to nick 'y'know what you gotta do’ matt looks at me nervously then at his brothers. nick sits down on the couch behind them, 'kiss her, matt' he smiles as he leans back crossing his arms.

'guys stop' matt continued his protest. 'kiss, kiss, kiss' we heard softly behind us. i look around meeting nick and chris's gaze, before finally stopping on matts. he took in a breath while he analysed my face his eyes stopping at my lips, eventually lifting his arm and grabbing my cheek and kissing me softly. i immediately kiss back, my hand going to his hair as his hand creases the curves of my waist and his other moving from my cheek to my neck.

my mind is going crazy, everything i’ve ever dreamed of is finally happening. i can’t believe it i’m kissing him, i’m kissing matthew sturniolo, the only guy i’ve ever loved.

our kiss was slow but passionate, the way his soft lips synchronised with mine like our lips were made to touch. the way his hand travels back up my skin and his fingertips softly caress my cheek. our kiss deepens, our tongues fighting for dominance, his hands roaming my body. my hands moving from his hair to the back of his neck, this feeling is making me want him even more than I already do.

he eventually pulls away both of us out of breath. i look into his eyes then realize nick and chris are no where to be seen. ‘y/n i can’t do it anymore, i can’t keep pretending we’re just friends. i love you’ he breaks the silence.

‘matt, you know i love you but our friendship means the world to me and I can’t lose you, i can’t lose this’ he cups my cheeks staring into my eyes.

‘look y/n, i really don’t care if you think this will ruin our friendship. you know why?’ he stops. i flick my eyes between his lips and his eyes waiting for him to continue.

‘i’ve spent years loving you from afar and i want us to be together. this won’t change anything between us. i promise’ tears well up in my eyes i try to speak but i’m cut off by the lump in my throat. ‘but what if this doesn’t work..’ i finally manage get out.

‘even if eventually this doesn’t work out, I’m willing to make anything happen for you. nothing could ever change the way that feel about you’ he whispers before kissing my forehead.

i slowly nod at him, a smile forming on my face. ‘okay..’ I say softly. ‘okay?’ matt repeated confused. ‘if you believe in us working then..we can try’ he smiles picking me up spinning us around. my giggles filled the living room, he placed me back down kissing me again this time more deeply and passionately.

he let out a soft moan into the kiss before lifting me up and carrying me to his bedroom, where he gently tossed me onto the bed. "you okay with this?" matt asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "matt," I replied, my tone serious, locking my gaze onto his anxious eyes, “shut up and kiss me.”

he wastes no time, suddenly positioning himself above me, and kisses me deeply. i feel his tongue graze my bottom lip, prompting me to part my lips and invite him in. as his tongue explores my mouth, i can’t help but moan, my fingers tangling in his hair.

i flip us over kissing him passionately as i slide my own tongue into his mouth. his hands slowly move down grabbing my ass making me grind against him. his hands on my body was addicting, he felt so good against me, like his touch was a drug i couldn’t escape from.

he slaps my ass making me gasp into the kiss. he breaks the kiss working his way down to my neck and sucking on my sweet spot. ‘matt..’ was the only word that filled my mind as his lips brushed against my skin, sending shivers of bliss through me.

‘you’re so soft.’ he whispered against my neck sending chills down my body, the way his smooth lips kisses me and fingertips teases my skin makes me go insane.

he kissed his way up my neck placing a soft kiss on my cheek before pulling away and creasing my cheek. ‘you’re so pretty.’

i blush kissing his lips softly ‘i’ve always wanted this matt.. it’s always been you’ i look down. He lifts my chin up staring into my eyes. ‘you have me’

that did something to me i can’t explain it but i needed him, and i needed him bad. i pressed my lips gently against his, then softly kissed his neck.

he sat up letting me pull his shirt off over his head. ‘wow..’ i whisper staring at his chest. he grabs my hand having me trace his body as he stared into my eyes. ‘matt i uh-‘

he shushed me with a kiss to my lips smiling softly. ‘don’t rush it take your time, baby’ i nod lightly, wanting nothing more than to get on my knees in front of him already. he lays me down positioning me at the end of the bed, him standing up. his hand begins tracing the top of my jeans.

‘can i?’ he asks nervously. i nod as he lifts my body and unbuttons my jeans and pulls them down. ‘woah’ he says with a huge grin plastered on his face. ‘these are pretty’ he says, tracing the rhinestones on the side of my victoria secret underwear. his finger hooks onto the side of my thong slowly pulling them down.

he tosses the glittery thong across his room, he smiles at me being bare from the body, half giving him access to my already soaked cunt. ‘fuck, already dripping’ he said before licking up my walls taking in all my juice, my body shaking slightly before moaning just a bit, knowing how this was gonna go.

he plants kisses all over the inside of my thighs slowly making his way to my cunt. he looks up at me before kissing my clit, gosh he does it so well. his tongue slipped out of his mouth and lands itself onto me licking and sucking at my clit.

i run my fingers through his hair, my lips parted slightly no sounds even able to come out. i throw my head back biting my lip, as he begins to shove his tongue in my wet hole. ‘taste so good, baby’ he mumbles against my pussy making me moan softy. the way he’s eating me like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, and making me feel so good i can’t think straight.

he slightly takes his mouth off, spreading my lips then spitting on my pussy. he shoved two fingers into me making me moan gripping his hair tightly.

‘fuck matt..’ i moan uncontrollably as he puts his mouth back onto my clit as he pumps into me. ‘matt please- don’t stop’ i whimpered making him moan against me. my thoughts clouded with pleasure, unable to comprehend anything but his mouth and his fingers.

‘baby, i’m gonna cum please..’ my legs wrapped around his head as i grind against him making his nose graze my clit and his fingers hitting deeper. just as i was about to cum he pulls away from me making me whine in disappointment.

‘don’t worry sweetheart, i’m coming back’ he smirks and he unbuttons his jeans followed by his boxers and flings them somewhere with the other pile of clothes. he takes his dick in his hand pumping a few times before lining himself up with me, looks up at me for approval, the second i nod my head he buries himself inside me.

my head drops back and my mouth creates an ‘o’ shape. ‘you’re so big’ my moans are muffled. he grunts as he begins thrusting in and out slowly but deep, hitting every spot. ‘oh god..” i mumble as the pace picks up. i’m so close, just by looking at matts face, his mouth propped open, his forehead covered by sweating strands of hair, the way his hands grip the side of my thighs and his biceps tense with every trust.

‘matt, i’m gonna cum-’ i let out breathlessly, his eyes avert from my pussy to my eyes. ‘hold it baby, just for a second’ he grunts, thrusting faster as he builds up his release.

his thrusts getting sloppy, my hands scratching his back. ‘matt- so good’ i whine, as his hands squeeze my hips. ‘c’mon on cum f’me’ i nod out of breath as no words were able to form, cumming over his dick. he pulls out cumming into my stomach.

‘fuuck’ he pants trying to hatch his breath. i lay there my chest rising up and down, my pussy still pulsing. matt gets up and makes his way to the bathroom, coming back seconds after. i feel a warm rag on my stomach and my pussy making me flinch.

‘it’s okay sweetheart, i’m just cleaning you up’ he kisses my forehead softly. after we cleaned up he helped me get dressed and took my hand leading me into the living room.

nick and chris smirked giving each other a high five, until chris speaks up. ‘next time be more quiet when you’re fucking our brother’ chris laughs.

‘ohhh fuck matt’ nick mocks jokingly. ‘shut the fuck up’ Matt says then kissing my lips softly. i can’t believe i finally got him, the only thing i wanted for christmas.

© freshsturns

@astronomysturniolos @sunrisemill @lovingchrissposts @sturniolossss @stargirll567 @whoisabbyysblog @slut4matthew @vanteguccir @strniohoeee @ashsturns @jamiesturniolo @mattscoquette @starsfortaylor @patscorner @gamermattsgf @hysteria-things @sluts4matt @mattslutt @slutformenn @mwahsturns ❥

[5starssz]

All For Me

Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Your two year relationship with collegiante basketball star Paige Bueckers ends suddenly in both of your senior year. You couldn’t seem to detach yourself from her even though Paige had seemed to move on. Once you graduated and Paige was doing her 5th year, Paige finally realizes what she lost.

All for me- Mariah the scientist

Warnings! Nothing too crazy

Purple=Paige

Pink=You

All For Me Part Three

She left. You woke up to a half empty bed only containing you. ‘Of course’, you thought, “That whole night was nothing but a one time thing and I shouldn’t have let my guard down or get my hopes up”. you said while walking over to your dimly lit living room. It was 9am, the time you usually get up. It was a Saturday and you had no work that day which was a first. Your phone started going off like a crisis was happening. You check and of course it’s your group chat. Your friends: Navie, Liana(Your best friend), Jayden, and Cali were all talking about meeting up at a bar in Storrs at 10 later that night. This was perfect timing for your friends to drag into plans, after last night you needed a distraction.

—————————————-

10pm

You walked outside, the chill air nipping at your legs. You walked over to the booming car that was parked infront of your apartment complex. The loud bass of the car shook the handles when you went to open the back door.

“Hey yall”, you dragged out as you sit down on the cold leather seat.

“Hey gorgeous”, Liana exclaimed while hugging you.

“What’s up homebody”, Jayden laughed from the drivers seat. Everyone joined in laughing.

“We’re going to Ted’s by the way”, Navie said from the passenger seat. You nodded acknowledging her statement.

The car ride was filled with singing, laughing, and random screaming. You needed this, time to have fun with people you love the most.

“Oh and I invited one of my other friends who’s inviting some of her friends”, Jayden yelled over the music.

Everyone said ok and went back to singing and finally the car pulled into the parking lot. You guys got out the car laughing and pushing each other. Ted’s was packed that night, college students and other people crammed into tables. Your group walked in and headed over to the bar to wait for Jayden’s friend and their friends.

“So who’s your friend that’s coming?”, you asked Jayden who was already ordering a drink.

“Mackenzie, she’s on the volleyball team, I don’t know which of her friends she’s bringing though”.

You nodded.

You and Liana started singing and dancing to the music that was blasting through the restaurant. You both started ordering shots and drinks to make the night even more exciting. While Liana was ordering her drink you heard a voice yelling.

“JAYDENNNN”, you assumed was Mackenzie yelling. She was stumbling into the building with her arms in the air.

“They must’ve pregamed”, Liana said to you. You laughed at her statement.

You watched her stumble through the door while the rest of her group followed shortly behind her. It was 3 other people. Before you could figure out who the rest of the group was, a tall man tapped you on shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, you’re really beautiful and I just wanted to know if we could talk a little”, he said close to your face so you could hear over the roaring music and talking. His breath reeked of beer so it was very obvious he had been drinking

“Um yea sure”, you said slightly hesitant.

The two of you walked over to a corner that was quiet enough to have a conversation. Your back faced the rest of the group you were with.

“So what you doing here tonight gorgeous”, the guy said.

“I’m just with my friends”, you shortly answered. You were still hesitant. You didn’t usually go for guys but you were open to possibly dating them. You also noticed the guy was drunk.

“I’ve been looking for a girl and I think I found her”, he started moving closer to you.

“ha..straight to the point i guess”, you nervously chuckled. He still kept inching closer and closer to you. “bro back the hell up”, you said louder and continuing to back away from him.

“I’m just tryna look at ur beautiful face”, still persistent. At this point you needed to leave.

“She said back up, are you slow?”, the familiar voice said from behind you.

You turned around to see Paige clearly angry. You didn’t know she was there so this was a big surprise, but also made you mad seeing her again. You couldn’t be too mad, she stepped in a situation that she wasn’t part of to stand up for you. She grabbed your hand and walked back to the group, who didn’t even notice what had happened. When the both of you sat down at the bar you could actually form words to talk.

“Why are you here?”, still upset from how she left you last night.

“You’re welcome”, she said sarcastically. “I just helped you out what could you possibly be mad at?”.

“You just dipped this morning, or last night cause i really don’t know when you left. You couldn’t even tell me bye or fucking send a text. It seems like you didn’t mean anything you said”.

Paige kept eye contact with you while you expressed how you felt.

“It’s none of that. I just left early cause I had an appointment. I have no real reason for not texting, i’ve been busy as shit but I really should’ve texted you, I’m sorry, for real”. She grabbed your hand and looked back to your face.

“It’s fine”. You did notice something a little different in her actions. She was being touchy in public, which she never did because she wasn’t out to everyone yet. Her friends and family obviously knew from when she used to bring you around.

“Are you like…out the closet?! you’re being a little touchy and we’re at a packed restaurant”. You laughed a little.

“nah not officially but the closet is clear at this point”. The both of you laughed. “Also, I can makeup for leaving last night after my game tomorrow”.

“You’re smooth as hell but yea that’s fine”, you laughed.

“Come sit in my car with me”, she said getting up, not giving you an option.

The cool night air hit as Paige pushed open the door of the bar, the muffled hum of music and laughter fading behind them. It started to softly drizzle when you walked out. Streetlights cast a soft glow over the full parking lot, both of your footsteps echoing quietly against the pavement. Paige tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket, stealing a glance at you with a smirk lingering from you two’s last conversation. you chuckled, bumping shoulders with her, and Paige laughed softly in response, the sound warm in the crisp air. A brief silence settled between the both of you, not awkward but charged, the kind that made the space feel smaller. Paige toyed with her car keys, letting them spin around her finger as you neared her car.

She paused by the driver’s side, turning to face you fully. “So… you coming, or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re second-guessing this?” Her tone was playful, but her eyes searched yours, softer than her words. The car clicked signaling she had unlocked the car. You slipped into the passenger side. The night stretched quietly around you, waiting.

Rain tapped softly against the windows of Paige’s car, blurring the world outside into streaks of light. The air inside was warm, heavy with the quiet hum of the heater and the faint scent of her perfume. Paige glanced over, a slow smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel. Without a word, she leaned in, closing the small space between you two, her breath warm and steady. your lips met softly at first, hesitant, like testing the edge of something dangerous.

But then Paige’s hand slid up, fingers curling gently around the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, growing hungrier, more certain, as if you’d both been holding back for far too long. The windows began to fog, blurring the outside world until it felt like nothing existed beyond the car. Paige let out a quiet laugh against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper something low and teasing before diving back in. Every movement felt electric, each touch leaving a trail of heat, and for a moment, time seemed to dissolve entirely.

————————————————————————

To be continued..

————————————————————————

AN: I think I hate this but I don’t wanna keep yall waiting. pls lmk if this was awful😭

[stclaretarot]

PICK A CARD 🐣⭒ your partner's reaction to finding out that you're pregnant...

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · nine of pentacles, judgement, nine of swords, the magician.

channelled songs · happiness/the gondola man by elliott smith. so good right now by fall out boy. the catch up by ambré.

hey there group one ♡ your partner will have an initial burst of excitement. they may jump up and run to you, and grab your shoulders and hug you.

they’ll start pacing around the room as they talk about all the people you need to tell next, how the nursery is going to look, all the things you need to buy.

but, the more they talk, the more real it will start to feel and the more it will start to stress them out. they’ll start to overreact. they’ll start to worry about the future, finances, and if they will even be a good parent.

you’ll have to calm your partner down and remind them that you are in this together. that no matter what, you will have each other through this whole journey of pregnancy and parenthood.

GROUP TWO

cards · ace of cups, nine of wands, six of swords, justice.

channelled songs · i’m with you by grouplove. alive by empire of the sun. all i want is you by 112.

hey there group two ♡ you and your partner may not be married when you fall pregnant, though some of you may be engaged.

your partner may be a bit traditional in this regard -- and may also take into account that you may not want to be pregnant at the wedding, and look pregnant in your wedding photos -- and so may immediately suggest getting married now. or moving the wedding date sooner, for some of you.

they seem like a methodical, logical person. so while there will be smiles and kisses and excitement, their reaction will be more practical. they may already be doing mental calculations about the cost of raising a child, and the cost of having a wedding or changing the plans around your wedding.

GROUP THREE

cards · page of wands, knight of wands, knight of swords, the hierophant.

channelled songs · war of hearts (acoustic version) by ruelle. meaning of love by nct 127. gondolier by dalida.

hey there group three ♡ your partner may already have children or a child from a previous relationship. they have already done this before, but that does not make them any less excited to be doing this for you.

they will get excited for the pregnancy itself, but they will also get excited that their other child (or children) will now have a new sibling.

your partner may have always wanted a large family and so they will feel fulfilled and will start telling you about all the things they want to do in the future, together, as a big blended family.

they may start rambling about how great it was being a first time parent, and how excited they are for you to have this experience too. and, most of all, for them to be doing this with you.

GROUP FOUR

cards · the devil (reversed), seven of wands, eight of cups, ace of swords.

channelled songs · rose parade by elliott smith. tulsa jesus freak by lana del rey. one mo’ gen by mariah carey.

hey there group four ♡ your partner may feel despondent. they may ask you if you really want to keep it, if you’re sure that pregnancy and parenthood is something you’re really for.

because that is not something that they are ready for. they may not have entered this relationship with seeing a future with you, and will be scared of what a baby could mean for their future. what it could mean for their plans. what it could mean for their dreams.

they may withdraw in that moment, and almost shut down. even if they do not say in that moment that they don’t want this baby, you will be able to tell from their body language alone.

[nylqnder]

' 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ' | 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

summary: being pwhl montreal's newest star, you get paired up with cole caufield to do a joint interview.

warnings: pwhl!reader, smau (this is my first time doing an smau so please only constructive criticism), quite a few uses of y/n, using a photo of mariah koepple but not as a faceclaim, cringy flirty banter

word count: 1.57k

The bright lights of the Bell Centre cast a vibrant glow over the ice, the freshly zambonied sheet pristine and inviting, free of skate marks. Stepping onto the ice felt like stepping into the next chapter of your life, a dream realized.

It’s been about 2 months since you were drafted into the PWHL by PWHL Montreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream of yours. The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, from the excitement of draft day to jumping straight into the intense training sessions. Scattered in between, you’ve been able to get to know your teammates who have helped you settle into the new city by showing you around.

Though the PWHL season was still a while away, the NHL season was fast approaching, and you found yourself at the Bell Centre for media day with the Montreal Canadiens. You were slated for a joint interview with one of the Canadiens players, followed by a shooting competition.

Gliding around one end of the ice, you took a few shots on the net with the pucks that were scattered around. The camera crew was setting up their equipment at the other end, preparing for the interview.

From the direction of the bench, you heard the distinctive sound of skates cutting into the ice. Turning around, you saw Cole Caufield skating towards you, his Canadiens home jersey contrasting sharply with the ice beneath him. A bright smile lit up his face as he approached.

“Hey, rookie,” Cole greeted with a playful grin.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” you introduce yourself.

“I know who you are,” Cole said. “They talk more about you than they did about me when I got here.”

You couldn’t help but feel a blush appear on your cheeks at his words. You were a pretty highly touted prospect going into the draft, and when Montreal drafted you, the hockey-crazed city hyped you up even more. You were the talk of Montreal hockey, surpassing even the Canadiens' new rookies.

“Oh, come on, you’re just saying that,” you replied, trying to downplay your embarrassment.

“Not at all,” Cole said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen my thunder.”

You chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and shyness. “Well, I guess it’s not every day a new star comes to town,” you replied, trying to match his playful tone.

Cole laughed, the sound echoing in the nearly empty arena. “True, true. But don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow it for a bit. Just don’t get too comfortable,” he teased, winking at you.

His wink caught you off guard, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You felt your heart skip a beat and hoped the blush that had already crept onto your cheeks didn’t deepen too much. There was something undeniably charming about Cole’s playful confidence, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words.

A couple seconds later, the crew calls the two of you over to begin the interview. You and Cole took your spots on either side of the interviewer on the Montreal Canadiens bench. You watched as a producer gave the interviewer cues to start the interview.

“Hey everyone, I am here with Cole Caufield, forward for the Montreal Canadiens, and PWHL Montreal’s first round pick, y/n l/n.” the interviewer says. “Welcome y/n and Cole, it’s great to have you both here today.”

"Thanks for having us," you said, giving a nod to the camera.

“Yeah, this is awesome,” Cole added.

The interviewer turned to you first. “Y/n, you're about to start your first season with Montreal's PWHL team. What are you most looking forward to?”

You couldn’t hide your excitement as your face lit up. “Honestly, I'm just excited to get out on the ice and play with such an incredible group of girls. We've got a lot of talent, and I think we're gonna have something special this season. Plus, the energy from the fans here in Montreal is just amazing.”

He nodded appreciatively and then looked at Cole. “And Cole, as someone who's been playing in Montreal for a while, do you have any advice for y/n?”

Cole thought for a second before speaking. “Just soak it all in. The city's passionate about hockey, and it can be intense, but it's also one of the best places to play. Stay focused, enjoy the ride, and don't be afraid to lean on your teammates. The vets were the best in my first couple of seasons, they always had great advice if I needed any.”

“That’s some wise advice.” the interviewer says, drawing laughs from the both of you. “Y/n, what do you think will be your biggest challenge this season?”

“I think adjusting to the pace and physicality of the professional level will be a big step up from college hockey. But I’ve been training hard this offseason, and I’m ready to face those challenges head-on. Having a supportive team and coaching staff definitely helps.”

The interviewer nods and turns to Cole. “Cole, what's one thing about playing in Montreal that you think will surprise y/n?”

Cole grins. “The fans. They’re not just passionate, they’re everywhere. You’ll get recognized on the streets, at restaurants, pretty much anywhere you go. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s also pretty amazing to have that kind of support.”

“Well, it sounds like an exciting season ahead for both of you.” he says, looking back at the camera. “Well, now we’re going to get to the exciting bit of the interview and get ready to watch Cole and y/n go head to head in a little shooting competition.”

The three of you get up from the bench, heading over to the net set up in front of cameras.

“Now’s the time to prove that you’re worth all the hype,” Cole said teasingly as he skated by you.

You rolled your eyes at Cole's comment, but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, I'm not worried," you shot back. "Just try to keep up, okay?"

Cole laughed, the sound light and genuine, the both of you skating between the circles. The crew had set up a series of targets in the net, and as the two of you lined up, the interviewer explained the rules. "Alright, y/n and Cole, there are five targets in the net, whoever hits all five in the shortest amount of time wins. Have you guys placed any wagers on this?"

You and Cole both laugh, you shaking your head.

“How about we make a little bet? Loser buys the winner dinner.” Cole suggested.

“Dinner, huh?” you mused. “I hope you’re ready to spend big because I’m gonna win.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Cole said, a small smirk tugging on his lips. His confident nature made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, Mr. Confident, let’s see what you’ve got,” you challenged.

“Okay, okay, we’ve got a little competition going now.” the interviewer commented.

“Just so you know,” Cole says, “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Good,” you replied, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Alright, Cole, you'll go first. I’ll serve you the pucks and you’ve just gotta shoot them.” the interviewer explains. “Y/n count us down when we’re ready.”

The interviewer heads to the right of the net where a pile of pucks sit, while Cole sets up in between the dots. “Alright, ready?” you ask. “Three… two… one… go!”

On your call, Cole starts shooting, aiming for the targets in the corners and center of the net. He fires pucks off like bullets, shooting them impressively into the net. He hits three of the targets consecutively, but it takes him a couple extra shots to get all five targets.

19.47 ends up being his time — and the time for you to beat if you want Cole to treat you to dinner. “Nice shots, old man.” you tease.

“Old man? I’m only 2 years older than you, watch it.” Cole retorts.

You giggle and skate to where Cole was, waiting for the crew to replace the targets in the net. Once everything's set, Cole counts you down. You fire pucks into the net, albeit not as hard as Cole’s. However, you were able to pick your spots, being able to get all five targets in 17.33.

When you hear your time, you do an over the top celebration, skating around Cole and showing off. Cole groaned dramatically, but a genuine smile couldn’t help but tug on his lips.

“Looks like you owe me dinner,” you said triumphantly.

The interviewer thanks you both for joining them, you and Cole skating off towards the dressing room together. You finally speak once the two of you are alone in the dressing room.

“You don’t actually have to take me out to dinner,” you tell him.

Cole turns to face you as he pulls off his jersey. “I want to.” he says earnestly. “I mean… I’d like to take you out for dinner. As long as you’re down.”

You smile at his sudden shy demeanor, a swift change from his confident attitude on the ice. “Are you asking me on a date, Cole?”

Cole’s cheeks flushed pink as he scratched the back of his neck. “Would that be okay if I did?”

You grinned. “It’d be great.”

"Great," Cole said, his grin matching yours. "It's a date."

———

canadiens.pwhl Cole Caufield and Y/N L/N getting friendly in their newest interview for Sportsnet 👀 Do we have another Habs bachelor off the market?

( loading comments )

user1 montreals newest it couple i'm calling it

user2 they are so cute together

user3 power couple‼️

user4 the greatest hockey player in montreal and cole caufield

user5 LMAOOOO

user6 look at his smile🥹🥹

user7 he looks so happy with her

user8 god could they be more obvious??

user9 ??

user8 i mean they're clearly dating they didn't even try and hide it lol

user10 aw now cole doesn't have to third wheel nick and caitlin

user11 my literal parents

user12 omg same hey twin

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays - pt 2 sneak peak

part 2 of home for the holidays is coming together and should be out sometime this week, thank you for your patience!

🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋🎄🎅❄️💋

first 1.5k words of part two below the cut, ho ho ho!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell?”

[liquidcatt]

your boyfriend writes a letter to come to terms with your death

cw: angst, maybe ooc, slight comfort, mention of car accident, grieving process, no happy ending, implied s*icide, lots of tears are shed

My dear Y/N,

It's been a few years since your passing. I struggled to write this so I apologize if it sounds like I’m rambling. I want to get this off my chest right now before I regret not doing it later. 

Before I met you, I was not a fan of Christmas. Like, at all. It brought back memories from my childhood. Memories that reminded me of a different time before life showed its ugly face. Memories that I use to look back on with contempt and melancholy. Memories that honestly I would wish to forget. Memories that basically made me not want anything to do with it at all.

I remember it like it was yesterday: I got invited to an early Christmas party by one of my friends and I saw you being dragged through the crowd by your sister, wanting to introduce me to you. I was aloof with you at first as you weren’t too into the holiday spirit either to even have a casual chat with me. But as we talked, however, I felt myself being drawn to you. Like someone was telling me that you were one. And they were right. Some say it was a slow burn romance in the making, but screw it, I didn’t care. Seeing your face turn bright red when I asked for your number before you left so we could keep contact was the highlight of the night. Honestly it felt like I was in high school all over again; asking the cute girl next to me in class if she wanted to go out with me. I don’t regret that night and I’m glad you didn’t too. 

Every Christmas with you was so different, I was so happy to share it with you. We’d watch all those cheesy Christmas movies and sometimes do little commentaries on how stupid they were. Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” was always blasting on the radio as we drove home from dinner. On certain nights, I’d get into my winter clothes excitedly so we could go outside to see the snowflakes fall from the sky, feeling their wet kisses land on my cheeks. Your family was so fun to be around. Your parents were a little old-fasioned, but I was happy they welcomed me with open arms. I even got to meet some of your young cousins; they were so adorable, I hoped that we would've started a family as well. I will always cherish those memories of you. The memories that made me remember my childhood and how much I took them for granted. I wish I could tell myself that things would get better and that I would find my soulmate. 

But as they say, life showed its ugly face yet again, only this time it took you away from me forever. Your mother woke me up one day, screaming on the phone and told me that you had gotten into a car accident. I can still hear the sound of her crying echo in my mind. I hate it so much. It was raining heavily and they said your car had slipped off the road and crashed into a nearby tree. You died on impact. Seeing your body in the coffin was like something out of a nightmare. It had to be right? My mind kept screaming that you were just asleep and that this wasn’t real. But it was. You were dead. I wanted to console your parents, but I held my tongue and stayed silent. After that, things were never the same.

To ease the pain, I watched all the movies that we use to snuggle together. I’m listening to your favorite Christmas songs over and over again, singing my heart out like you did. The ugly sweater you gave me one year to match yours is still hidden away somewhere in my closet. I have no desire to wear it unfortunately. My friends try their best to cheer me up during this time, like visiting the places you used to frequent and eating at your favorite restaurants. They’d also check up on me to make sure that I don’t do anything stupid. Yeah right. Like I would ever. I’m too much of a coward to even try. I’d visit your family once in a while to chat with them. Your parents told me that I was always welcome in their home, but it does little to heal the gaping wound in my heart. They let me have some of your belongings as they didn’t have the heart to get rid of them. The grief of losing you took a toll and I can see it on their faces. You and your mother look so alike, it was almost like talking to you again. The wrinkles on her face get worse and worse every day. I swear she looks like she had been crying for a long time and I can’t blame her. Your dad is a hard-working man. He worked a lot to make sure you got everything you wanted. And your sister, I never got to thank her for introducing me to you. She has no idea how much I would’ve loved to get married. The more I see them, the more guilt I feel festering in my throat. I feel like I let them down; I felt like I let you down. 

But that’s not what I’m writing this letter though. No, I’m writing this letter to tell you that these past few years were some of the best and I wish that I had more time to spend them with you. The truth is Y/N, you made me love Christmas again. And I miss it so much. I miss you. I miss being excited to see the presents nestled under the tree waiting to be opened. I miss the ornaments on the tree you would decorate as they swayed slightly like they were waving. I miss holding your hand as we walk the streets at dusk admiring the Christmas lights hanging on the houses and shops. I miss making cookies with you even if they didn’t always turn out perfect. I miss falling asleep next to you on the couch as we struggled to stay awake to see Santa. As long as I was with you, everything was okay. You were what Christmas was always about: being with the people you love.

What’s even the point of celebrating it anymore? I know that you would tell me that you wouldn't have wanted this. You’d hold me in your arms cupping my face to wipe away the tears, saying you wouldn't want me to be sad. No way in hell that would you have let me stay cooped up in my room either, shut away from the world. You’d tell me to be happy and remember you in a positive light. You’d want me to celebrate Christmas with everyone who loves and cares about him. But you aren’t here to tell me any of that. You're gone. And I have to accept that.

As I’m writing this, it’s only a few more hours until Christmas. This year has gone by so fast. I bought a small, white cake at the last minute at some store nearby that's open till midnight. It was the cheapest one I could afford as I’m short on cash right now. It’s plain, but simple, just how you would’ve liked it. You didn’t care if anything I bought was expensive or not. 

I still live in the apartment we shared together. This ‘home’ that was once full of radiance and mirth for a time is now replaced with a dark, melancholy ambience. It’s so different without you. I have trouble sleeping because I instinctively turn and expect to see you laying next to me. The other side of the bed is cold, I miss looking at your peaceful face while you slept. I took a picture of the cake and sent it to your family and some of my friends. They all loved it and I’m sure you would’ve too. 

There’s so much more I want to say, but this is all I'm able to get out. If you're looking down from heaven right now, always know that I’ll always keep a piece of you in my heart until my dying day. I love you and that feeling will never change. Merry Christmas Y/N. 

Love you always, Your boyfriend

Kageyama, Tendou, Tsukishima, Akaashi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima (+ your fav)

a/n: One of my managers at work had a daughter who died that loved Christmas and it was never the same for her :’(

[hoonvrs]

ENHA AND THEIR HABITS

PAIRING enha x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS none (i think??)

W. COUNT 1.6k

S. NOTE first proper drabble on this acc to ease me back in to writing, also because i don’t have time to write a full fic but shh

LEE HEESEUNG

( singing your name )

no matter where he is, he constantly sings your name

could be in public, at home, even at work

sometimes you’ll hear him singing your name out before you even hear him approaching you

has a new habit of singing your name in the middle of random conversations

he’d be talking to you in the most monotone voice ever then here comes mariah carey once your name is mentioned

would finish his sentence in the most normal voice ever as if he didn’t just scream your name in falsetto

gets weird stares from everyone around you

( adamant to talk to you even though he’s actively falling asleep )

you both fell into the routine of calling each other at night

and even though you can hear him slurring his speech and dosing off he refuses to hang up

would deny to hell and back that he is sleepy

even though you can literally hear him losing consciousness

would eventually hang up on him because the arguing became him saying incoherent words trying to prove himself

guess what: did not prove anything

expect him to call all pouty the next morning because you hung up

PARK JONGSEONG

( touch your hair )

he’s not used to long hair (or at least longer)

would easily become obsessed with touching your hair

once saw a tiktok of how to braid hair and fell into a rabbit hole

would randomly try and braid your hair after watching a few youtube tutorials and 100% creates a lot of knots

but you still let him because he’s just so cute when he tries to brush your hair carefully without hurting you (would also give the best scalp messages)

if you have curly/coily hair he’d start asking about your hair type and would loveee helping you when its hair day

camera roll is just filled with pictures of him with bobby pins in his mouth/experimenting on your hair

( intense eye contact )

jay has never had a problem with holding eye contact talking to people

so poor baby was confused when you could barely hold eye contact for a minute

after getting together he’d ask you why you did that, and you had to explain that not everyone can intensely hold eye contact the whole time

also mentioned how him being attractive did not help your case

definitely the type to follow your eyes with his whole face to tease you

also prepare your heart for being on the receiving end of his ‘madly in love’ stare

would stare at you with his pretty boy eyes with so much love and no shame, he couldn’t care less who sees him

SIM JAEYUN

( blinking at you expectingly )

everyone knows jake is a very curious boy

both you and him knew that

so, him asking you questions about everything and anything is normal to you

but after the first few questions you realise, he never fails to look at you expectantly blinking his eyes at a kind of concerning speed

don’t think he even realises he does it

but it’s the cutest thing ever so its okay

could ask you the most out of pocket question then give you puppy eyes blinking at you cutely 

would push you into an existential crisis with his questions about life and debrief you with his blinking  

( resting his head on your lap )

you can never sit down to do anything without suddenly feeling something heavy in your lap

sit down and you’ll be able to distantly hear the sound of someone running full speed to lay on you

jake is a big fan of head scratches but sometimes he just wants to be there

could both be doing you own thing

no ‘hi, hello how was your day’ just head in lap and hand in hair

once you nudged him away from your lap because he wouldn’t stop fidgeting and he gave you the silent treatment for 2 hours

nothing a few head rubs and praises can’t fix

PARK SUNGHOON

( tieing your shoelaces )

hoon is a domestic type of boyfriend 

so don’t be surprised when he likes to help you do mundane acts like putting on your coat, opening the door for you

but his favourite thing to do is tie your shoelaces

you don’t know why he likes doing it so much and honestly neither does he

bonus points if the weather is cold and you’re wearing a puffy coat with a scarf and hat practically drowning you 

sometimes he’ll watch you struggle a little when you can’t reach your shoes comfortably before sweeping in to save you

god forbid he sees you let someone else do it, you’ll have to deal with a petty sunghoon for the rest of the day

( squeezing/biting you )

when you first got together he’d randomly lean over to you and squeeze whatever limb is closest to him

sometimes it’s cute like your arm or thigh but sometimes he’s a weirdo and will squeeze your ankle if its close enough

after becoming more comfortable he’d start grabbing you more until one day he bit you

you were both cuddling on the couch watching a movie when you suddenly feel a set of teeth gently bite your cheek

cue him trying to explain himself whilst you stare at him holding your cheek in confusion

it’s a little cute like when he bites softly onto your hand but sometimes it would fucking hurt like the one time he back hugged you and bit you on the back

he suffers from high levels of cuteness aggression so it won’t be the last time he bites you a little too hard

KIM SUNWOO

( watch you do your makeup )

sunoo grew up watching his sister do her makeup in the mirror nearly everyday so of course he’d watch when you do it

would love to see the way you decide what look to do and what colours to pick

make sure to always ask for his input because he loves helping you pick your makeup

a little hesitant to ask to try on you since his sister never let him

would start smiling so hard when you let him

a bit scary though when he’s doing your makeup and giggling to himself

surprisingly good at it which confuses you because who was he practicing on hmm

( push up/take off your glasses )

when you first met sunoo you were wearing your contacts

so, when he saw you on a random day wearing glasses he became obsessed 

prefers at home dates since it usually means you wear your glasses instead of contacts

started a little thing were he’ll push your glasses up when its slides down

might slope down the little bit and now his finger is in your face

sometimes he’ll just completely take it off to mess with you

finds it hilarious when you try to read something far away and he snatches them off so you can’t see anymore

YANG JUNGWON

( watch you pick what to wear )

jungwon was shocked at the amount of clothes you had when you first started dating

which only got worse after you started stealing all his clothes

shocked gasps can be heard every time he hears you say you have nothing to wear

he finds the whole process of you picking out an outfit funny

loves when you try on multiple outfits because he knows you’ll probably end up with one of his hoodies and jeans

refuses to help you pick because you always ask only to do whatever you want 

loves when you make a pile of clothes you don’t want to wear on your bed because he can smell his and your perfume mixing from his hoodies

( poke/tickle you )

where sunghoon squeezes and bites, jungwon pokes and tickles

did it once to scare you but you didn’t react so now he’s made it his life goal to catch you off guard

convinced he can condition you into being ticklish if he tries hard enough like okay pavlov

will walk past you and jab his finger into your rib and get no reaction

where some people get bored and move on to someone who will react, yang jungwon only becomes more determined

has tried tickling you through the day to see if that changes anything. it doesn’t

lets just say a little argument ensued once when he decided to tickle you at 3am in your sleep

NISHIMURA RIKI

( constant touch )

niki is someone who needs constant physical touch 

he’s so dramatic with it too oh my god he’ll start whining about if you don’t touch him now he’ll die in two seconds

began with him trying to hug you 24/7 even when the members would tease him he wouldn’t let go

that soon changed to intertwining pinkies because walking whilst hugging is not easy

if for some reason he can’t hug or hold you pinkie he’ll make do

sometimes he’ll link your arms or pinch your clothes

another weirdo who’ll hug your leg if he has to

( looking for you in the morning )

he’s become accustomed to waking up with you that if he doesn’t see you next to him he’ll get up to look for you

it’s cute to you when he comes into the living room or kitchen dishevelled and hugs you

but scares the fuck out of his members

they were convinced for the first month he was sleep walking

would see niki at ass o’clock going through each room calling out your name like a broken record

would take him a minute to process the fact that you’re not there

would get sent a new videos daily from one of the members of a groggy niki going through the rooms saying your name

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