#but thank you to everyone who's stuck around

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

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

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

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

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

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

You: what’s up?

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

You: does he live near us?

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

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

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

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

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

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

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

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

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

Hour one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you said dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to bring it home, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Like who?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you know me at all.”

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

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour three

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

Rafe snored. Loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

“Try me,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Why?” you asked.

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

Hour four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of animal was -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

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

“Fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

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

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

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

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

Hour five

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

“How much was it?” You asked.

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

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

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

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

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

Hour seven

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

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

“Oh my god!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“What is it?” He questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“You owe me a cookie.”

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

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

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

[noxiwrites]

Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class. You’re not too bothered by him, he’s just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It’s every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.3k

Chatter mulls through the room as you sit quietly at your desk, reviewing some of the content for the final year of your class here. You can tell everyone is excited, the final year of this four year course upon you.

You, on the other hand, were less excited. The pressure of the material was very demanding already and you just wanted to get on top of it, keep it down to a minimum so it wouldn’t collapse your entire life.

A door opens at the back of the classroom and the chatter is suddenly gone, a stiff silence falling over the rest of your classmates as they take in someone who is definitely not your teacher, stood at the desk at the front of the class.

Immediately, you hear the hustles of chatter from all the girls in class as they take in the very obviously handsome man stood waiting. He grins, looking around the room and soaking up the attention. You roll your eyes and scoff, not bothered by his pretty face as you look down to review the material for what felt like the ten millionth time.

“Okay guys, enough chatter, let’s get started,” his voice scratches at the back of your brain, something about the way he sounds making you turn all mushy.

“So, you’re probably wondering where Dr.Mendez is, right?” A murmur of agreement washes the room and you glance upward, watching as his hands clasp around a book, stance all flexed as he leans against the edge of the desk. You can see him scanning the room and your eyes meet for a second, him flashing you a brief smile before you’re looking back down, again.

He’s hot. He’s making you all flustered, no doubt like all the other girls in the class- and it frustrated you. You’re just here to learn.

“Well he’s swamped with other classes this year so I’m stepping in to teach, you’re stuck with me,” you can hear the smugness in his tone, basking in the attention from the girls fawning over him.

“I’ll die a happy woman stuck with you, sir,” a whiny voice giggles from behind you and you already know it’s Kendra, a self centered bitch who has done nothing but make your life living hell while being in this class.

He laughs, thanking her, before moving on. You look up again, watching him as he strides around the desk to take a seat on the front of it and opening the book in his hands.

“I’m Rafe by the way. I’d prefer if you guys just called me that,” he looks around the room, thumbing the page he’s currently on as he takes in the entire class. Again, your eyes meet and he smiles again, something you don’t return as you expectantly wait for him to move on with the class.

“Right, so, I’ve been filled in on what you guys have been learning for the past three years, and this is your last year, yeah? Very important.” A chorus of further murmurs flow from the class and Rafe, now you know his name, nods. He slaps his knee, standing as he walks back to his laptop, clicking some buttons before it connects to the large projector.

“I won’t keep you waiting then, let’s get started shall we?”

By the end of the three hour class, you’re exhausted. You’re so ready to climb into your car and get home, climb into bed and have a fat nap. As usual, you’re one of the last to leave class, hating getting caught in the throngs of people all leaving with the same goal as you.

Kendra and her cronies are stood talking to Rafe at his desk as she giggles and twirls her hair around her finger about something he’s saying, and you roll your eyes as you shove your book bag further onto your shoulder and descend the steps down the the bottom of the class.

It really makes you want to scoff, how fucking sleazy she is- really, the guy has just started to teach the class and she’s already trying to get her claws into him. You wonder, sometimes, how she managed to get into an advanced class, but then you remember she was born into money, her perfectly bleached blonde hair and always perfectly manicured nails reminding you of that.

“See you later,” you hear Rafe say and you turn, to see his focus completely on you instead of Kendra. Her scowl could kill if it were possible, mad that his attention is on you rather than her. You smile and nod, waving goodbye before rushing for the door and leaving.

It’s cold out in the parking lot, and you regret parking your car at the far side this morning when you were in a better mood. You’re thankful, however, that this is your only class today and you can just go home and sleep.

The drive to your apartment only takes fifteen minutes, traffic light as a slight drizzle begins to fall on your windscreen, rolling your window down to scan your badge to get into your estate gate.

Your cat greets you through the window of your ground flat as you pull into the parking spot in front of it, turning the engine off and grabbing your stuff before rushing to the door, leaving down to greet whiskers as you close the door.

“Let’s go to bed, eh?” You ask, and he purrs, following you down the hall. When you’re finally relaxed in bed, you find yourself thinking of the new teaching assistant, wondering if he knows what he’s signed himself up for.

“Good morning guys, we ready to start?” Rafe asks the room, cup of something steamy in his left hand. You can hear Kendra giggle from behind you and you just know she’s twirling her hair in her fingers, which makes you sigh.

Today, your friend, Molly, had decided to turn up. You’re grateful, telling her about yesterdays events in a hushed tone as her eyes grow wider the further you tell.

You drop your eyes down to Rafe to see him setting up his PowerPoint again, clicking away on his keyboard.

“Yeah and he literally said goodbye to me, and she was all like grrrr and scowley like? I didn’t do anything,” you tell her, Molly flashing a frown over her shoulder to signify her displeasure. She hates Kendra just as much as the next person.

“To be fair, he is very attractive. I’d be mad if I put that much into my appearance and you stole his attention just like that,” she snaps her fingers to give you an idea of what she means and you blush. You definitely didn’t steal his attention, he was just saying goodbye. Right?

You both fall into silence as Rafe begins talking to the class about different formulas, all the basic stuff that you noticed at the beginning of the content paper. This class is shorter, only being an hour and a half, before you’ve got another class in the afternoon with another teacher.

As you work through the slides, you find yourself glancing at Rafe more and more. You had to give it to him, he was very attractive. Buzzed hair, sharp jawline and sparkly eyes that everytime they looked into your own, sent you dizzy.

Alas, he was your teacher. It begged the question in the back of your head of how old he was, because he didn’t look much older than you to be honest. The slides soon come to an end, Rafe clapping his hands as he thanked everyone for turning up today. Everyone grapples to leave, Kendra hanging by his desk as he lazily entertains her while typing away on his computer.

You bid Molly goodbye as she rushes off out the door, desperate to see her boyfriend before he goes to his next class, leaving you to pack your things as you earwig on what Kendra is saying.

“I think I could do with some extra tutoring, Rafe,” she twirls her hair around her finger again, eyes blazing down at him. Rafe grins, laughing up at her before going back to his computer.

“You’re fine Kendra, I reviewed your papers from last year. No tutoring needed,” you can practically hear the sarcasm from here, and you’re sure Kendra is one more comment away from bursting into tears and ringing her father because the teacher won’t fuck her.

“Oh, okay. If you say so Rafe, but I’m always free,” she scrapes her fingers along his desk, and act that makes you wince as you walk down the steps.

“See you next week, Rafe,” she drawls, before throwing you a scowl, leaving the classroom. You’re about to follow, not wanting to stop and chat, but Rafe does so anyway.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to speak to you, actually,”

You turn on the spot, swallowing despite suddenly having a dry mouth. You walk back, standing in front of his desk as he closes his laptop and smiles up at you.

“I uh, had a look at your papers from last year,” he begins, but you can’t help your mind from racing already.

“What? I’m not doing anything wrong am I?” You ask, words rushing out of your mouth like you’re spewing.

Rafe shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. “No, no. I just think you’re lacking some certain aspects that could definitely help you be the top of the class,”

You breathe out, not realising you weren’t breathing at all. He grins, lazily, as he begins to toy with the edge of one of the books on his desk.

“I think I can help you be the best. I’d like to tutor you, if you’d like the help. You can say no and still pass the class but I think the extra help will get you to the top,” he concludes, fingers dancing along the edge of the book.

“I uh, I don’t know. I don’t think that’s very fair one other students,” you quip, pushing your bag up your shoulder. As you do, your skirt pulls up your legs a bit more and you see the brief second his eyes flicker down, before looking back up at you and gulping.

“I can see that, yes. I just think you have the most potential,” you eyes wander back down to his hand, now playing with the edge of the book, other moving up to rest under his chin.

He has nice hands, you think, and immediately want to slap yourself. He’s your teacher.

“Uh, thank you?” It comes out as more of a question and Rafe laughs, circling the edge of the book. You have to pry your eyes away from it.

“You can think. Let me know next Monday, after class. Have the rest of the week.” You nod meekly, smiling lightly at him as you bid him goodbye, heading for the door.

“Oh, and before I forget, make sure you read up on pages one hundred to one hundred and sixty for next week. I know you like to get ahead.”

“You’re going to say yes, right? I mean it’s a no brainer,” she continues, rambling. Truth is, the more you’ve thought about it, the more appealing it sounds. You’d love to be top of the class, make your dad proud, and rub it in Kendras face, like a reminder that money can’t buy grades.

“Like imagine? What if he tries to make a move on you, I mean look at you? Why would he not? Oh my god, this is perfect,” she almost yells, before taking a sip of her wine. You’d not actually thought about that part of it, choosing to mostly ignore it.

But then, if that were his motive, who would he ask you and not Kendra? She was the better option for something like that. You would like to think that it wasn’t one of those deals, that he actually wanted to help you, and that was the part that was convincing you.

“I think I’m gonna say yes, but just for the tutoring, I wanna get better grades,” you tell her, taking a sip of your own glass of wine. Whiskers jumps down from the windowsill next to you, fawning around in your lap before collapsing down and falling asleep. You scratch his head, looking over at your friend who wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“But you wouldn’t turn him down if he made a move, no?”

“I don’t know Mol, he’s just another pretty face to me,” you say, looking over at the tv. You were trying to watch twilight, until you got distracted by rambling Molly who only comes out after some wine.

“Cmon, he’s so totally into you! Turning down Kendra to then offer the exact same thing to you,” she declares, pushing your shoulder back. You have to admit, there may be some truth in her statement, because why would he do that for you but not her?

“I just hope I actually get taught what I’m missing,” you say, causing Molly to roll her eyes. “You’re not missing anything, you’re already one of the top in the class, he just likessss you,” she drawls the likes, making you giggle at her as you bite the edge of your wine glass, contemplating the pros and cons of letting Rafe be your tutor.

You’re going to do it.

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ Hello!! First series I’m actually excited to write ! Teacher Rafe is just 🤩 much love, let me know what you think <3

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Yamaha XT500: slowing down

Contents: bts of Yamaha XT500, providing context of their conversation, slight sexual language, angsty, inappropriate workplace behaviour?

You’re nervous. 

The past week has been uncomfortable and awkward. Your boss was preoccupied with another girl, and you know you shouldn’t be jealous; she’s a client. But to watch him be so attentive, so patient, and so accommodating of another girl, it made your chest hurt. 

There you were, sitting behind your desk with a smile, waiting to greet your boss but he’d barely glance at you, gliding past to his office without even a word. When you’d bring him coffee, he wouldn’t even look up, he’d just continue scribbling or typing on his computer. 

Sure, he was busy. 

Everyone was. 

But it wasn’t right for him to give you so much attention the first couple months and then take it all away like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing. Your sister said it hurts a lot for you because it’s your first love, and whilst you’re not sure that what you’re feeling for Suguru is love indeed, you still appreciate that you’re new to this whole thing. 

Why are men such mysteries?

How ever did Helen of Troy, or rather of Sparta, circumvent this maze?

The romance books you’ve read couldn’t give any insight. They all somehow follow the same pattern of ‘boy meets girl, they like each other, boy hurts girl, boy kisses girl, and girl forgives boy, and they live happily ever after’.

And pardon your French, but that just seems like utter lunacy!

Technically, Suguru hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s just doing his job. But he still hurt you and you can’t give in to his sweet words and pet names, no matter how they make you blush and press your thighs together.

So, after his messages insisting you have lunch together, you wait out at the front of the studio. It’s getting colder and you wish you had brought a thicker jacket, but you only have your sister’s hoodie. You hope she isn’t walking around town today otherwise she’ll rip it right off you. 

It’s only fair you take her jacket when she took your heels to go to a party, sneaking past your room like the little devil that she is. 

“Ready to go, pretty?”

There it is again. 

That smooth tone and heart-fluttering pet name. You’re blushing again when you turn to meet his eyes. He’s so tall, kind eyes smiling at you as he closes the door. He takes a quick sweep of your figure before he sighs and drapes a scarf over your shoulders, tying a knot so that your neck is all warm and cozy. 

Don’t fall for it!

You thank him and then step aside so he can lead the way. Both of you stroll through the neighbourhood, smiling at passersby and weaving around tourists who take up the entire pavement. Having watched a bunch of romance shows too, you’re painfully aware of the fact that he’s following the sidewalk rule, standing as a barrier between you and the road. 

It was a seamless move, done as if on autopilot, as if he’s simply the type to sacrifice himself. He’s a really good boss. Always choosing to stay overtime to finish up on paperwork instead of letting another member of staff handle it, taking the brunt of complaints and nasty customers, and his officer door’s always open for his employees. 

Except, of course, that one time when you had shut it so you could have a little…well, you don’t know what to call it. But whatever it was, it’s been stuck in your mind since then. And you can’t even count the number of times you’ve cum to the thought of it, to the feel of his hands on you. 

Thank goodness your sister’s out so often.

“The weather’s taking a turn for the worse, you should start wearing thicker clothes,” he advises. 

You tuck your chin into his scarf, smelling that familiar scent of musk and late nights, and the faintest hint of gasoline. When he glances down at you, you nod.

“Yeah, I will.”

Earlier in the week you had ran into your friend. She was frazzled over the lawsuit against the university and the ugly professor, hands frantically typing away and hair tied up haphazardly in her unofficial spot in the corner of the library, facing the south windows. 

You hesitated to talk to her in case she was really busy and would feel burned by a conversation, but when she saw you, she let out a genuine, but strained smile. The case had been taking a lot from her. You admire her so much. Always so hardworking, so easy to approach, and so eager to help, no matter what she’s going through. 

She pushed her laptop to the side and gestured for you to sit. And for half an hour straight, you complained about your problems with your boss. Looking back now, you can only cringe at the memory. How thoughtless of you. It’d be wise to avoid any pool of water, lest you fall into your own reflection. 

But she still took the time to hear you out and give advice.

“I don’t really know this Suguru person, but it does sound like he was genuinely busy. I think it’d be good to hear what he has to say and go from there.”

And of course that makes sense. It’s rational, logical, the kind of thinking a law student would have. Perhaps you should have gone to a drama student who would have told you to faint in front of him and pull at his heartstrings. 

Before you know it, you reach a cafe. 

Suguru lets you in first, placing a hand at your back to direct you to a table by the window. It’s a seat with a great view of a park, the leaves have turned various shades of orange and red, drifting downwards in spirals, descending with grace. 

You sit in front of him, unravelling the scarf and placing it on your lap. Oddly enough, as you both look over the menu, it doesn’t feel awkward like you had been expecting. 

It feels normal. 

Like you’ve done this a million times before. 

And it’s only once the server takes your orders, that you both look at each other. He’s still smiling both with his lips and his eyes, and it’s the kindest, most reassuring smile you’ve ever seen. The kind of smile you find yourself searching for in every stranger, only to come up empty-handed. 

But there’s something else there, resting on his features. The crinkles by his eyes are ever so slightly more visible, and the circles under them are just tiniest shade darker. Suguru’s really been worked to the bone recently. 

“Is the campus more chaotic than usual? With the protests and all.”

You shrug. “A little. People are really upset with Eden’s decision to only suspend Professor Mahito despite the mounting evidence against him.”

Suguru nods thoughtfully, accepting the drinks that the server brings over. You’ve opted for a hot chocolate and he’s drinking coffee. He doesn’t tease you over your order of extra whipped cream like your sister does.

“And you believe the accusations?”

“Of course!” You say that with a little more passion than intended, likely feeling offended he even needed to ask. You’re embarrassed but he doesn’t laugh at you, only lifts his cup to hide his amused smile.

He’s always smiling. 

But most times it never feels genuine. 

After a sip of his coffee, he adds, “I believe them too. Much of the pro-Mahito rhetoric centres around his work as a professor, but not much about his character. And if I may, my run-ins with him during my time were never particularly pleasant.”

You nod. “I just hope it all gets settled on. Everyone deserves peace.”

Something about what you said pleased him because then his smile is widening and he places his cup down and leans back in his chair. You know what this means; he’s going to get serious. 

The talk is going to happen now. 

“About my client,” you suck in a breath, “you think she was something more?”

Biting your lip, you consider your words very carefully. “I think you gave her special attention. One that you don’t give to any other client, not even celebrities.”

The food arrives and you glance up at him before taking a bite, wondering why he isn’t answering immediately. Is he considering his words carefully too? If he is, what does that mean for you? Is he doing it because he doesn’t want to hurt you or because he doesn’t want to let you in any more than he must to keep the peace?

Your mind is racing, and you chew without even really tasting your food. 

His finger taps against his fork, and then he drops his smile and sits up straight. 

“You’re right. She wasn’t just another client. She was special.”

A chill pierces your chest. It stuns you, rendering you frozen, forced to bathe in the words like a cold plunge. You want to throw up and run. But you’re pinned to your seat with his steely gaze. It’s insistence, urging you to listen. You can’t look away. Not when, even at the worst moment of the time you’ve had with him, he still looks so mesmerising, a marble statue carved only with the most ardour and the brightest hope for mankind. 

Suguru lets out a breath, perhaps relieved you haven’t left. At least he understands why you would. He owed you that much at least. 

“There are clients,” he begins with an authoritative tone as if his words are factual and you’re captivated by the musical cadence of his warmth, like he’s telling you a bedtime story, “who come, not with money but, with stories.”

You don’t really know where he’s going but you place your cutlery down and reach for your mug of hot chocolate like its searing heat could keep you grounded, keeps you tethered to the ground and protected from his lulling voice, a pied-piper amongst normal men. 

“They’ve been seen the darkness the world has to offer, ventured into places we can’t even fathom. And certainly, places I would never wish for you to have been.”

Something about his cautioning words compel you to nod.

When his fingertip touches yours and sends a tingle through your hand, following the veins, you realise he’s inched his hand closer, to feel yours, even just to feel the atoms breathe near other seems to calm him. Perhaps he needs tethering too.

“Riko was special -is- special. She’s a girl who’s been through a lot.”

You’re breathless, dazed from the feel of his skin. You want to pull away so you can have clarity of mind, but you can’t. “She’s been to those places?”

Suguru nods, a bitter flash crossing his features. 

“She was running from people who wanted to take from her. Who only ever saw her as a vessel and not as a person. And she’s come very far on her own. She wanted something to remind her of who she is. Not a little girl, not a vessel or a mere victim, but a survivor.”

Your lip trembles. 

The girl you had seen was so bright, she grinned with mischief and spoke with so much energy you felt invigorated just by listening, even when you didn’t want to. The extent of what she’s faced is something your mind just cannot venture to. And you’re wracked with guilt, it gnaws at your heart, squeezing in punishment. 

You might throw up for a whole different reason. 

This entire time you had been cursing her out in your head, feeling jealous of all the attention she was getting, but it never even occurred to you that she might have needed the attention, needed to feel normal and cared for, in the way you do. 

You lick your lips, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate there and force your features to lighten. “I understand. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Suguru doesn’t look convinced, and he opens his mouth to carry on but you only press your finger to his like one would boop a baby on the nose. It’s what your father does to you and your sister when you argue, an effective way of disorienting you enough to shut you up. 

It’s the first time you’ve ever done it but it works wonders because your boss only tilts his head and watches your hand do it again. His expression lightens too. 

There’s a renewed atmosphere to the table, like a veil had been lifted; you hadn’t realised just how heavy it all was until you’re grinning and spooning more food into your mouth. 

“She’s okay now, though?”

And when Suguru nods, you’re pleased with the answer. Truly.

Wherever Riko is, whatever she’s doing, you hope she’s safe. And above all, happy. And if she must return to Uzumaki for solace, for protection, for friendship, you swear there and then, you’d welcome her with open arms. 

“Did you hear about Gojo’s fiancee?” 

Suguru laughs, images of his best friend’s faces flashing in his eyes. “Have I ever? Satoru hasn’t stopped complaining. He spams me day in and day out, sends a bunch of voicemails to both my personal and work phones, and when I wouldn’t answer, he’s been showing up at work.”

You’re giggling. “I know! Nowadays he just walks in and groans at me that you’ve abandoned in his ‘time of need’, whatever that means.”

There’s a softness in his tone, even as he makes fun of his friend, and you feel its embrace when he admits, “Satoru’s always been very dramatic, but he’ll be fine.”

“My sister says his fiancee’s like the complete opposite of him, appearance-wise. Something about being goth?”

“I’ve met her,” he smirks when you gasp. “Don’t look so surprised. You forget I was once a student at Eden. She and I were classmates. And she’s going to him a run for his money.”

The conversation continues with laughter, a feather-like lightness carrying you both along. For two hours, even well after both of your plates are empty, you chat. You update him on what you’ve been up to for the past week, rambling about the most mundane things like they were a crisis and he nods along, never once interrupting, as if content to sit there for however long and listen. 

And when you walk back to the studio, there isn’t a moment of silence. Not even when both of you have stopped talking. 

This is perhaps the only time since you began working at Uzumaki that you’ve spoken, not as boss and employee, and not even as two people with an inexplicable tension of the sexual kind. But rather as friends. 

It felt good. 

To know where you stand with someone. 

Sitting back down behind your desk and watching Suguru flash you another smile before he retreats into his office, you reach a conclusion. 

Friendship is good for you and him. 

You need it before anything else. 

And those are the terms he’ll have to agree with.

[cornyforjk]

Drive you crazy | Day 8 | jjk

⤷ SUMMARY In which you are stuck living with an arrogant rookie racer who thinks of you as an obstacle, ready to ruin your glory, but things get heated when he has a pervy smile hidden under that pretentious attitude. Emotions that are complicated. You could never fall for your enemy! He's sabotaging you.

Pairing: racer!jk × racer!oc

Genre: angst and pure filth smut

Warnings: trash language

taglist: @tatamicc @jwnghyuns @nono13bnd @hagridshaircare @tatzzz-25 @suashifts @kyuupii @bananaminn @rispwr @spideyjimin

A/note: Helloooo, happy thanksgiving you guyssss. I'm so thankful to be able to write here and I hope I continue writing for a long time ahead❤️.

___________________♡____________________

Y/N

I sprawl across the bed, allowing rays of the sun to directly hit my eyes. Wrapping my arms around I squirm and roll over, sniffling the shirt I slept in.

His shirt.

"Get ready we are leaving?" Suddenly I hear a deep voice on the other side of my door, Jungkook knocks on it waiting for a reply.

"Where?"

"France? We have a race, idiot."

I facepalm, falling on the floor like a stack of boxes hitting the ground.

"You okay?" His voice is laced with concern, I notice the knob of the door shifting, the key inserted in it jingling.

"I'm fine!" I yell abruptly, "Don't come in."

"Alright." His footsteps turn faint and the breath I held in finally escapes in relief.

I touch my face, feeling it warm up, little by little strings attach to my heart and Jungkook's voice is enough to pull them.

Especially his morning voice.

I walk out of the room, hurrying when Namjoon texts me, it takes me some time to pack and by the time I'm outside, I see no one.

Where did everyone go?

I crane my neck looking for the bus that was supposed to take us to the airport but find the place empty.

"They left."

Jungkook says with disappointment, waving at an eerie object at the very end of the parking lot.

"You took freaking 30 minutes to get ready and yet didn't change your clothes?"

I look down at my outfit. Technically Jungkook's shirt.

Feeling a warm blush creeping up my neck I dip my head down, staring at the road with embarrassment.

"I was packing my bag," I mumble, receiving an eye roll from him.

I fake a smile, and a small minivan approaches us.

"Thank Namjoon for this. He said he and the rest of the guys wouldn't step into the bus without you."

My heart swells up, a smile slowly growing with excitement.

Everyone gathers around, climbing into the small vehicle, after three people it starts to fill up quickly. In the end, I'm left standing on the pavement searching for a seat.

Jungkook taps his thigh, gesturing to me to come over.

I look at him vaguely, confused.

"Quick, before we miss our flight as well." He grumps.

I slowly make my way over to his lap, accidentally straddling him, my hands fall on his chest and he sharply breathes. "Sorry..." I mumble.

Jungkook quickly pulls me in, his hand resting on my waist. Soon I started to slip when the breaks started to get frequent. Jungkook slips his hand under my thigh, tugging me closer.

"Hold tight." He whispers jaw clenched as it twitches.

My eyes drift over his hard chest, the long drive leaves me tired, and my head rests on his warm body. It wouldn't hurt to take a quick nap.

It feels silent the whole way, my body almost seems dead and I end up in the plane with surprise glinting in my eyes.

Slowly my eyes open to a foreign voice on the speaker.

"This is your captain speaking, we are now about to take off for France."

My eyes bulge out and I throw myself out of the seat sitting straight as I frantically look around.

A hand slithers between my fingers, interlocking together. I look to my side to find Jungkook facing me, his face squished against the seat as he eyes me with a toothy grin.

"Relax Princess." His hoarse voice leaves me jittery.

"How did I end up here?"

Taehyung who sits next to me answers with a mischievous grin planted on his face. "He carried you of course."

"Even through security?"

Taehyung nods.

I shift my eyes back to Jungkook who intently stares at me with droopy eyes and a stupid smile on his face.

My face lights on fire, turning bright red, I quickly hide it in my hands, receiving a small chuckle from Jungkook.

I nudge him with my elbow as he pouts.

"aren't you going to thank me for not ruining your sleep?" He cocks his eyebrow, sitting straighter. I laugh, feeling playful enough to piss him off.

"No. You are a big bag of dick."

He dramatically gasps, placing a palm on his shoulder. Pretending to find my words offending.

"Did you hear that Taehyung?" He smirks, "I'm a huge bag of dick."

"So the lady speaks with experience?"

Taehyung now enters into the conversation as both of them naughtily gape at me with cocky smiles.

Ganging up together. How dare they.

"SHUT UP!" I yell, crossing my arms and sinking into my seat, blushing furiously.

The number of times Jungkook made me blush today was enough to have blood flowing everywhere in my body.

Jimin quickly turns around, flashing his phone screen at us.

"Natalie sent us this message!" He jumps in his seat with excitement. "We are all getting our own rooms!"

I look at Jungkook but he is already staring at me with questioning big doe eyes. He quickly looks ahead of him, hiding the anguish that I notice.

Our whole flight he stays silent, not a word exchanged between us yet our hands linger together silently.

I want him to tell me to stay.

Tell me to not take up that new room.

Just tell me with words.

But he hides his disappointment with a small smile and flickering orbs that don't look at me anymore.

He wears his headphones, resting his head with his eyes close "Tell me to stay, dumbass," I whisper, hoping he never hears it.

___________________♡____________________

JUNGKOOK

As the plane touched down on the runway at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, a sense of excitement bubbled up inside me. This was it, the start of our much-anticipated trip to France. I was travelling with my seven teammates, and we couldn't wait to explore this beautiful country.

The moment we stepped out of the airport, the crisp French air filled our lungs, and the bustling atmosphere of the city greeted us with open arms. Our faces lit up with smiles as we hailed a fleet of taxis to take us to our destination - a famous French hotel we had heard so much about.

The hotel was everything we had imagined and more. Lavish chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and the lobby was adorned with exquisite French art. We checked in, and soon, we were each handed the keys to our rooms I entered my room, feeling a mixture of exhaustion from the long flight and exhilaration for the adventures that awaited us. The room was elegantly decorated, with a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower from the window. It was a dream come true.

After freshening up and getting settled, we decided to do some sightseeing. Paris had so much to offer, and we couldn't wait to immerse ourselves in its culture. As we gathered in the hotel lobby, I couldn't help but notice Y/n, a fellow teammate, looking as excited as I felt.

"Hey, Y/n," I said, approaching her. "Is there anything specific you'd like to see today?"

She looked at me with a playful glint in her eye. "Well, Jungkook, there's this place I've always wanted to visit - the Bridge of Love Locks."

A smile tugged at my lips. "Sounds romantic. Do you have someone in mind whom you'd do this activity with?"

Y/n chuckled her confidence shining Y/n chuckled, her confidence shining through. "Who needs someone else? I can lock my own love, thank you very much."

I couldn't help but laugh at her cocky response. "You're right, Y/n. Love for oneself is just as important."

We strolled through the charming streets of Paris, taking in the enchanting atmosphere. The city's beauty was captivating, and I was grateful to be experiencing it with my teammates, especially Y/n, whose lively spirit added an extra layer of excitement to our adventure.

As we finally reached the Bridge of Love Locks, I watched Y/n choose a padlock from a nearby vendor, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She scribbled her name on it and, with a determined expression, fastened it to the bridge, among countless others that symbolized love, both shared and self-love.

The sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city. Y/n and I stood there, side by side, admiringthe bridge adorned with thousands of locks, each telling a unique story.

"Today has been amazing," Y/n said, her voice softening as she looked out over the Seine River. "And I'm glad I got to share it with you, Jungkook."

I smiled at her, feeling a connection that went beyond friendship.

Beyond friendship....is it even possible?

When I look into her eyes I see sparkle of love, but it's not the same. Those eyes look at me as if we are acquainted. Sometimes when she brings her face close to mine it isn't because she wants to kiss me but because of her uncontrollable excitement, or when she clings to my arm it isn't because she's head over heels for me but because she seeks...a friend.

Why do you bring me my favourite cereal, or sit with me at night listening to my cries of vulnerability? Why do you end up sleeping in my shirt or sitting on my lap thinking I wouldn't notice it? Why do you do all this just as friends? I hate it.

It makes me think of you as something more than JUST FRIENDS.

After an eventful day of sightseeing and exploration in the heart of Paris, I returned to my hotel room. The luxurious suite was both inviting and intimidating, with its opulent furnishings and spaciousness. I couldn't help but feel a sense of solitude as I prepared for bed. Even though we were all in the same hotel, the fact that we each had our own rooms left me feeling strangely empty. Wasn't this what we all wanted? Our own space, privacy, and comfort?

As I lay in bed, unable to sleep and deep in thought, I couldn't help but think about Y/n. Her earlier cocky response about locking her own love had amused me, but now, in the quiet of the night, I found myself wishing there was a bed next to mine where she could be. Her presence had brought an extra layer of excitement and joy to our day, and the emptiness I felt now was proof of that.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I cautiously approached the door. Who could it be at this hour?

I opened the door slowly, and to my surprise, I found a tiny figure standing there, her face obscured by a pillow. It was Y/n. She looked up at me with a sheepish smile and removed the pillow from her face.

"Jungkook," she began, "I hope I didn't startle you. Can I come in? I can't sleep."

I blinked in surprise but quickly stepped aside to let her into my room. As she entered, her eyes darted around, taking in the neatness and elegance of the suite.

"Nice place you've got here," she remarked, her voice filled with admiration.

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. "Thanks, Y/n. What's keeping you awake at this hour?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering, "Something's missing."

I furrowed my brow, concerned. "What do you mean?"

She turned to me, a playful glint in her eyes once again. "My cocky roommate," she said with a smile.

I couldn't help but laugh at her response. "Well, here I am, your cocky roommate," I said, feeling a warmth spread through me. It was as if her presence had filled the void I didn't even realize was there.

Y/n settled down on the edge of the bed, and we began to chat, sharing stories and laughter, as the night continued to deepen around us.

It didn't take long for me to realize that sometimes, the best adventures were the ones that unfolded unexpectedly, and in this moment, with Y/n by my side, I couldn't have been happier.

___________________♡____________________

Day7 | Day9

Dm me or send an ask if you wanna be added in the taglist.

[remotewatch]

for this simp I have no sympathy 🏃‍♀️‍➡️💵

part two section A (just trust me) • part one here!

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 3.3k wc

summary: Jack steps out of line. What’s to be done?

cws: sugaring, inappropriate workplace dynamics, findom, submissive loser jack, spit kink, phone sex, he’s so pafetic innit, there will be part 2 section B and also part 3 I promise, Hermès is getting whacked unprovoked

AN: as always heaps of thanks to @mystardustmelodyyy (genuinely who knows when this would have been posted without your help) best editor to eva do it 🩵🩵

minors dni gtfo focus on getting taller first

By some grace of the universe, you get an urge to reach over and check your phone for the first time today and see “reminder: bs zoom 🤮” received five minutes ago. You barely have time to straight arm sweep all your shit off the side table into your purse and book it back to your cabana, leaving your poor Ghia unattended for the birds. A hand gets stuck putting on your coverup (another stroke of intuition, packing the button up instead of anything crocheted), but you manage to free it, toss your sunglasses aside, and join the call right on time.

Tragically, before you can mute yourself and shut off your camera, a crystal clear seagull squawk (enjoying your drink no doubt, asshole) cuts through the murmuring of waiting for everyone else to arrive. Even with only a few cameras on, you can feel every single one of “JS and 165 others” turn their attention straight to you. Amy, your coworker who you confided in about the card suspicions, turns fully to the left pressing her lips together to suppress her laughter. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the fabric of your cabana flapping behind you, blowing what’s left of your cover. Jack looks only mildly interested; his poker face has drastically improved in recent months. The team probably thinks he’s sending you a dreaded “stay on afterwards for a quick chat” message when he glances down for a moment before clearing his throat and picking up where he left off.

Your phone lights up with a text from Jack’s private line: ‘where the FUCK are you???’

You text back as inconspicuously as possible: “Ibiza??? we booked it together?”

You’d forgive him if he didn’t remember, considering the circumstances.

One Month Earlier

“Let me taste you?” Jack looks utterly pitiful facedown on his own office rug, creasing his suit to hell and back while he grinds against one broad palm. It’s a splendid view, but you’re too busy booking your flight to pay it any attention. The sun-warmed windows against your back perfectly mirror how his cheek is burning up against your calf, a delicious contrast to the icy office air tickling your bare legs.

“How much do you think that’s worth?” You ask flatly without so much as glancing at him. Jack looks at you blankly, desperately, gears turning behind glassy eyes. You place one heel on his forehead and shove him back when he tries to lean in for a better view of you

“Um, fifty?” You whip his phone around with Face ID already open, and he involuntarily bucks into his hand with a pathetic whine when the transfer goes through. There’s no formalities; you merely spread your legs a bit wider and twist your free hand into his hair as he plunges his tongue as deep as he can with a voice-cracking groan….

💳💳💳💳

“Are you upset with me? Can I buy something to make you feel better?” texts from his personal line continue to blow up your phone, disrupting your trip down memory lane.

He seems genuinely distressed, poor baby. You reply “Nooo, I’m not mad ☺️” with some extra heart emojis for good measure, followed by a link to the local leather atelier. By the time you get to your hotel suite that evening, there’s a gorgeous handbag in buttery nubuck waiting on your bed.

💳💳💳💳

Within a week of your hiring, multiple coworkers had pulled you aside to warn that Jack’s phone, Slack, and other channels of communication were perpetually set on Do Not Disturb, all sighing with resigned acceptance that ‘he responds eventually’. A few months into your tenure, you’d noted that he always replied promptly to your messages and chalked it up to gross exaggeration on their part. These days, he answers within seconds no matter when you text him.

This was your first trip out of town since you’d taken this job, and you were just a smidge thrilled to see his punctuality unaffected by the five hour time difference. Jack could easily pore over the charges littering his bank statement, but his generosity must be contagious, because you find yourself itching to keep him updated on the fun. A bikini pic here, an artful spread of your beachside mezze there. Each time, he responds instantly with a heart reaction accompanied by a picture of his spit-less coffee and “ :,( “.

You're not sure if it’s the heat or the way Jack’s forearms looked in his rolled up oxford, but when there’s a follow-up meeting on Zoom Tuesday afternoon, you decide to send him photos from last night’s rose water steam bath, accompanied by one of his emoticons.

“The water feels so nice here :)”

Admittedly, the way his jaw tenses with his tongue poking into his cheek made logging on entirely worth it.

💳💳💳💳

You’re beginning to think you could spend the rest of your days in your oceanfront cabana living on Rocha pears and sea breeze when Pepper, your favorite Maître D, comes in to deliver your breakfast on Thursday morning and mentions that “your husband” will be there soon.

“Who?”

“Señor Schlossberg! He said he has an urgent message for you.” Pepper winks playfully. “I’ll leave you love birds to it! Look, here he is now.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Jack in casual clothes- rolled-down black basketball shorts, a backwards baseball hat, and a sweaty gray t-shirt with the word “Funcle” emblazoned on the front.

“Jack!” You sit up and start to reach for your cover up before realizing that’s silly to do for a man who regularly gives you pap smears with his nose. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he briefly takes off his hat to wipe the shine from his forehead; it’s unclear if it’s from the humidity or nerves. “I’m so sorry to do this, but there’s this presentation.”

“A presentation? How riveting. I’m on the edge of my seat!” You giggle, placing the raspberry garnish from your morning smoothie onto your tongue.

He smiles stiffly and manages a droll chuckle. “Unfortunately, it’s for Gary- yeah, I know” when he sees you wince. “He’s about to go postal. We need you back when I pitch.”

Motherfucker. You’ll kill him if he doesn’t get to you both first.

💳💳💳💳

Not even ten minutes after takeoff and Jack is frowning at his laptop, way too worried about a client that would have left six meltdowns ago if he ever planned on it.

You slide your feet up his legs and under the keyboard to steal some residual heat from the motor and his thighs. His face doesn’t change, but you can feel his quads tense up when you curl your toes.

“The meeting’s not until tomorrow, right?”

He doesn’t look up, too busy stabbing the backspace key. “Yeah. Why?”

“Would you drop me off at Heathrow so I can do a little window shopping?” The “s” word gets his attention. Jack pauses his frustrated pen tapping to glance up at you and raise his eyebrows.

“Window shopping? Is that right?”

“I was going to do some this afternoon, but someone interrupted and made me miss my Loewe appointment. I’ll catch the next flight back.” His thumb draws pensive circles on the space bar.

“We can both stop there. It’ll be a pain to find you a new seat this time of year.”

“You just want to watch me work, don’t you?”

“Guilty.”

💳💳💳💳

You tear across the sparkling terminal floors like a tornado, Jack scrambling after you struggling to balance your ever increasing load of shopping bags as you flit from store to store to duty free counter. The Harrods stop weighs him down considerably: “I’ve been dying for a 24 inch cast iron!” Never mind that the thing dwarfs both your stove and oven, or that you have zero space to store the rainbow of Sferra towels and linens you heap into his arms. “This red piping will be so gorgeous for the holidays!”

When you strut right past Hermès, he nods pointedly at the entrance. “Want to go in there?”

“God, no. The last time I went to the one by work, they offered me a white picotin. I’ll never get anywhere with their stupid mind games if they think I’d like something like that!”

His eyes linger on a mannequin drowning in fuzzy striped knits. “Can I at least get you a blanket? You’re always so cold on the plane.” The earnestness in his voice is enough to make you pause, and Jack’s poked out bottom lip seals the deal when you look back.

“Fine, but only if they have a real pattern and not those fugly H ones.”

“Obviously!” He just can’t help himself from snagging you a horse charm on his way out.

For the most part, he maintains a respectful distance, content to watch you stalk around the perfume counter, unblinking predator eyes roving for an elusive green apple note. At one point, you catch him leaning down to sniff your hair, and a steely glance banishes him right back to reshuffling the VAT refund paperwork.

Friday

Exactly fifteen minutes into Jack’s pitch, it’s dreadfully clear that he did not need you for this meeting, so you spend the next forty quietly seething and waiting for your lunchtime “touch base”. The tension in the boardroom grows thicker as everyone trickles out, Jack shifting uncomfortably under your watchful eye. When you collect your things and trot wordlessly back to his office, he follows close enough to literally breathe down your neck. A click of his lock and the whisper of the blinds, and you’re twisting his ear until he sinks down to his knees, already stumbling over his words.

“What the FUCK was that?!” you hiss right into your boss’s face, not caring about the spit that lands right between his eyebrows. “I looked so stupid sitting there with nothing to do like I’m your little accessory!”

Jack’s jaw snaps open and shut uselessly like a marionette before he finds his voice.”I’m so sorry; I should’ve been honest with you. It just really helps me focus when you’re here on important days. It’ll never happen again. I swear, there’s nothing more important-” you cut him off before he can really get going, releasing his ear and hauling him back to his feet by the tie.

“You son of a bitch!” You snarl, dragging him along while you pace between the bookshelves framing his desk. “I should be eating fresh pomegranate on the beach right now! I booked an aerial yoga class with a former olympian! But NO, I needed to be here for this meeting. Those were your words! Why did you lie to me?”

You’re surprised by the softness of your words, and Jack looks as if they’ve gutted him straight onto the carpet. He takes a minute to massage his temples before daring to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t want you to think I was looking for any reason to bring you back, or like I was trying to control your trip. I was losing it prepping for today and panicked, but that wasn’t right.” He chews on his lip for a moment before adding: “I also didn’t think you’d believe me, how much you calm me down. It sounds like bullshit even saying it now, but it’s true.”

“You thought I’d assume you were lying, so you lied?” Jack grimaces hearing it laid out so plainly.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And how did that work out?” He looks down at your iron grip on his tie, looped around your hand enough to force him into an awkward stoop.

“It could’ve gone better. I’m sorry about that.” You fight to keep the scowl planted on your face, but the downright obsequious sincerity pouring off him cuts straight through it. Half a step closer and he has enough leash to straighten up fully; the unobscured relief on Jack’s face is nothing short of heart melting. He leans in eagerly when you lift his chin and offer a gentle swipe over his jawline, “Be honest with me next time.”

“I will. I promise.” Finally releasing the tie, you step back to lean on his desk and give him a proper once over. His puppy eyes are going to be the death of you.

“Alright then. Sit.” Jack’s knees hit the floor before you can finish the word, unmoved by the resounding thud that echoes throughout the office.

“Should I get the rope?” He can’t stop himself from swaying in anticipation.

“Ugh, I can’t even look at you right now.” you exhale dramatically, spreading your palm over his forehead. “Let me calm myself down.”

His relieved grin shatters the tension, and, like clockwork, you start manhandling that mane of hair, guiding Jack south and letting him sneak in a few pecks along the way. You’re not made of stone.

“As you wish,” he murmurs peacefully.

💳💳💳💳

In between your ferocious shopping sprees, Jack had stayed true to his word, continuing to pay your rent month after month. Your studio apartment was still on the smaller side and may or may not have a mold problem, but at least now it was filled to bursting with late-night impulse purchases from 1stDibs. In particular, you were proud of the Alexander Girard rug that you’d converted into a wall tapestry to hide the massive crack in your back wall wainscoting.

Your nighttime routine has grown lavish as well. Lately, the end of the day meant changing into a plush terry cloth robe, making a pot of specialty oolong tea, and lighting a Cire Trudon candle. The time change is still kicking your ass, so you also throw on a face mask and eye patches, plus your favorite microfiber headband with tiger ears, for the whimsy. As you massage your favorite rosehip oil over your collarbone, your mind can’t help but drift to Jack and how nice his tongue felt there earlier. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to have your time in Ibiza cut short, but it was so touching how genuine he’d been in his office. You two weren’t the types to play mind games, but it’s not like you spilled your guts out to each other either. Once your session ended, you even stayed behind to discuss how his presentation went. He’d listened raptly, jotting down occasional illegible notes before asking what kind of food you’d like delivered for dinner since there were zero groceries left in your apartment.

God help you- you decide to call him once you flop onto your new tufted Kluft mattress.

“Hi-” he answers instantly “I’m so glad you called, I was actually thinking about calling you because, again, I am SO sorry, I was so out of line this week. Who was the olympian you booked? I can get them over here for that aerial yoga class, we could do a whole workshop-”

“Jack, stop,” you cut him off before he can go on another one of his famous tangents. “I accepted your apology, and I know you’re sorry. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh. What is it?” His tone shifts from frantic to concerned “Is something wrong? Do you need anything?”

“No. I just wanted to let you know that I will be finishing my trip in Italy.”

“Oh! You should go. I’ll be ok for a few days.”

He sounds utterly unconvincing, but his wanting you to enjoy yourself is genuine; god, it’s always so genuine.

“Do you want to come with me?” you squeeze your eyes shut, not sure what you just brought upon yourself or if that was even an option within your arrangement. The breathless ‘Seriously?’ you get back after a beat and a half feels rocket-powered, like a triple shot of adrenaline.

“Yeah. I still have all the tours and accommodations booked for later this week so we can go to those. But if you’re in, we are NOT leaving early. I’m serious, Jack, I don’t care if Gary blows his brains out in the conference room, I’m going on that yacht!”

“Gotcha,” he laughs. You can so easily picture him kicking his feet in the air. “So, what else did you plan?”

“I just had to spend a few nights at Borgo Santo Pietro.”

“Oh that’s a lovely choice,” his voice slips into a low purr that hasn’t graced your ears before; you must’ve woken him up from the sound of it.

“Yeah, I was thinking massage in the gardens, wine tasting all afternoon, room service dinner because I’d probably be jet lagged.”

“Mhm,” there’s a tinge of breathiness to Jack’s voice, and you can just barely hear fabric rustling in the background. “What else?”

“Then an unstructured day for shopping. Super chill so I have time to browse without being yanked back across the pond-”punctuated with a giggle so he doesn’t start groveling again. He’s too busy panting into the mic to bother.

“And then I’ll charter their boat on the Lake. I’m renting it for the whole day so I can really take my time, see the sights and dive in the grottos in one of my new L’Agence bikinis-you remember those, right?. I’ll probably have to bring all of them on the yacht, just in case. And my footwear- I’ll need the Ferragamo flats, those sheep’s wool slippers from Daylesford market, maybe something sparkly for the evening?

“Will you need a new dress?” He gasps. You can hear the snap of elastic on his boxers, eliciting some goosebumps on your skin.

“No, I think it would be fun to wear a heel with a bikini… but I could add on some Pavè drop earrings and a diamond lariat. Wouldn’t that be nice? It’ll look like I’m dripping in jewels.”

He lets out a long groan that makes you throw your head back with satisfaction; he was putty in your hands.

“I booked a private painting lesson because the suite has a lovely pied-á-terre. Then there’s this service where you can get a bath set up by the head of spa staff- they’ll incorporate all the oils and extracts you could possibly want. It also comes with the option to get a massage afterwards, although I guess you could do that if you’d like.”

Your voice is starting to fray into arousal around the edges, but you’re enjoying yourself way too much to keep a lid on it, and the pitiful whimpering noises from Jack are just music to your ears. You absentmindedly stretch your legs over your percale duvet and continue:

“Some prosecco would feel just heavenly to pour down my throat after such a full itinerary. I should order a whole case for the suite. Two cases! Should we get enough to fill the bathtub? So can you shower me with it?”

There’s no response, just the obscene slapping of skin mixed in with Jack’s strained noises. Your lips curl into a mischievous smile as your heart rate speeds up right along with him.

“You’re being so rude, you know? I invited you along out of the kindness of my heart and you’re too busy fucking your hand to plan our time together.”

“Sorry-yes, yes, two cases! Oh my god-”

He veers off into a fit of ragged grunts, louder and louder then silent. There’s nothing on the line but desperate, deep breathing until he crescendos with a stifled whine of a moan. As you sink back into your silk sheets, your hand glides over your stomach and between your thighs, thinking about the outline of his chest in that goddamn funcle t-shirt.

“Have you unpacked yet?” He chokes, snapping you out of your haze.

“Well no… I haven’t had time.”

“We should go now.”

“Really?”

“God, yes. Just give me fifteen, and I’ll send a car for you.”

[reapkusho]

Thank you so much for the tag!!!

How do you spend your free time? Walking. Usually I'm out of the house so I'm either riding a bus or wandering around. But if I'm sitting down then I'm usually writing on my laptop or reading.

What are your hobbies and how did you get into them? I like knitting, crocheting, scrapbooking, anything where I have to craft something basically. I got into this because my grandmother crochets and she taught me a bit and I just went from there <3 I also like reading and writing, I got into that when I read my first novel at age 7 I think??

What kind of book or movie left a lasting impression on you? A LOT?? I don't watch a lot of movies. A book (letters technically) sylvia plath wrote really stuck to me (Letters Home) - especially the "the girl who wanted to be god" part omg But my favorite book is Jane Eyre by Charlotte bronte, I guess that means that's the book the left most of an impression on me <3

What kind of music do you enjoy? Also a lot. Indie music probably, but I have many MANY genres in my 1000 song playlist

Who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why? My favorite character right now is Rin Itoshi from blue lock :3 he's just so . Urgh. No words for how much I'm obsessed with his character. I think he's a pretty silly guy. He deserves to shoot everyone on that field with a gun. He deserves to win. He also deserves to think for himself (please.) I like his eyes btw. Okay I'd ramble if I go on </3

My favorite character of all time is chuuya from bsd!! Again. Character. Also he's just really pretty. <- says the person who has a whole note on their analysis for chuuya named "chuuya my beloved"

Tags! @shrii-kk @still-fatemeh @thegolden-tigeress @the-lazyyy-artist @wabatle

@anglefish3008 @mininji <- sorry for tagging you two a lot I'm trying trying to get to know yall better HAHAHA @iri-desky + open :)

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

[coryndoll]

I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but I'm sort of confused about waking up next to you. Of course I love it and I think it's written so brilliantly and the trope is genuinely so unique. But I'm confused about what's actually the conflict in the story—is it her dreaming(or coming into this world) or is it whatever happend to the real yn? And like, if Rafe and Yn are dating and all that, why is there no real romantic moment bw them?

no worries, n thank u sm !

“WAKING UP TO YOU” FULL PLOT BELOW (bc lowkey i made it long)

but yea, the whole idea is reader lives a normal life, obx exists in her life but only as a tv show so drew, cline, bailey, rudy, every actor is just an actor in ur world.

its mentioned sometime in the series that a few days before “the wake up,” u have had these bad headaches or something that u assumed were just migraines,

(essentially its the mind getting ready for “the switch”)

but u wake up one morning, no headaches, u feel great, but u wake up next to rafe, a fictional character.

its weird, of course its like “what the fuck is going on” & assuming its a prank,

u have to go along with the day just thinking that ur dreaming or something—its the only idea that can make sense,

but people have issues with u, u dont get whats going on, its kind of obvious theres been some drama before u even got here,

but by the end of the night ur ready to go home because this has to be just a one day experience right?

WRONG. 😭

u wake up the next day in the same universe, and i dont wanna get into all the science fiction stuff but reader soon figures out there are just billions & billions of alternate universes,

so there was a y/n in this alternate world ur stuck in, like a doppelgänger,

(& this still begs the question: did that reader & that y/n switch bodies? is y/n living in the readers life rn too? but i kind of want to keep that theory open so u guys can think what u want)!

the whole purpose of u being stuck in this one is this world revolves around the readers doppelgänger who apparently has been a very spoiled, selfish kook all her life,

but spoiled n selfish people dont always get a pass in life. obviously people are going to hate her. its expected for her to lose friendships & potentially even rafe someday,

to prevent that, doppelgänger wants to turn a new leaf, actually be generous, genuine, kind,

but doppelgänger is nowhere near generous, genuine, & kind.

it gets to a point where we see in her journals that shes actually trying, but it always boils down to a point of “ur still the person u always have been,” “u dont try hard enough,” “ur a hypocrite”

& its driving doppelgänger mad because its like wtf?

a few weeks before the wake up, doppelgänger is said to have been isolating herself in response to all the rejection, ultimately cutting off ties with everyone but rafe, her bf.

if she does talk to someone, it turns into arguments.

all she wanted was to change.

people are worried, concerned because now doppelgänger isnt talking to anybody but rafe tbh, sometimes to sarah or any of the camerons because shes been living with them recently,

and we learned in my most recent part that last week, apparently doppelgänger and sarah had a fight.

theres this unique, once-in-a-probably-just-this-one-time opportunity that doppelgänger gets to have someone take her place,

that person being the reader.

(the pick was strictly by luck, but also as a reward to basically spend ur days with A HOT CAST LIKE OUTER BANKS HAS)

reader was chosen out of everyone bc of their kind heart. theyre warm through n through, this world needed someone like that for rafe, for doppelgängers friends, for everything.

but its kind of a learning experience for reader too—step out of ur comfort zone, solve a puzzle of life,

and of course i feel like if we were all in obx, we wouldnt want to leave.

SO i had to propose the new singularity which is: the longer u stay here, the worse ur memories get, & u wont remember anything about ur real life, eventually also forgetting that ur not from this world & have ur own to get back to.

reader will realize “this life is great, but its not for me” & dedicate themselves on getting back to the real world,

but in the meantime, reader finds out she has to mend broken relationships in order to get each memory back & eventually get back home.

as far as intimacy goes, maybe its just been a while since i wrote any kiss or whatever since night 1, which was the shameless hookup😭

id imagine reader is still shaken by the fact that they didnt end up waking up in their real world but that still means rafe can initiate the kisses—idk why i havent written them,

okay next chapter guys ur having full blown sex again.

jk!

or maybe u will.

if ur still asking questions, blame the universe. it works in weird ways n ITS OPEN THEORIES FROM HERE SO U CAN THINK WTV U WANT.

[willowsnook]

five years later

Pulled pork, extra meat, sourdough (Part 2…mikes way..?)

andrei iosivas x childhoodbsf!reader

i’d be insane not to love you

————————————————-

Wining and dining people was your least favorite part of your job. You enjoyed the boots on the ground, technical work that you had spent two years heads down doing. But now that you and your partner’s startup was slightly off the ground, you desperately needed investors. So, instead of going out with your friends this Friday night, you were at a corporate happy hour, stuck in countless conversations with older men who didn’t really understand how technology was evolving.

“So explain to me again how this works,” the man you were talking to asked, and you forced your face to remain in the tight smile that you wore. Luckily, your partner jumped in, and you took the time to scan the room, casually sipping your drink. Nobody was that interesting or attractive except a guy who looked like your age by the bar. Wait, he looks so familiar. Tan skin, dark shaggy hair, ripped. And that smile. The smile given to you too many times growing up at the beach, sitting around your family’s dining room table, after high school football games. Andrei Iosivas.

He was your next-door neighbor when you were kids, and you were inseparable. He was your first friend, your first kiss (you were 10), and honestly, the man everyone thought you would marry one day. But as it does, life got in the way. Andrei got a scholarship to Princeton, and you ended up at Stanford. The first year was okay; you flew out to see him once, and he flew to see you, but then he didn’t come home that summer. And you didn’t come home the next summer. It wasn’t anyones fault, you both just got busy. Andrei was trying to make it to the NFL, and you met Jenna and were trying to get an idea you both came up with for an actual software product. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t seen him in five years.

As if sensing your gaze, Andrei looked up, and your eyes locked. His eyebrows shot up in recognition, and that familiar grin spread across his face. He raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment.

You excused yourself from the conversation, hardly hearing your partner's confused protest as you approached the bar. Andrei met you halfway.

"No way," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh," you replied, unable to stop smiling. "What are you doing here?"

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, and you chuckled. “One of my friends was invited, and I wasn’t doing anything, so I tagged along. Can I get you a drink?”

You nodded and he flagged down the bartender for you to order a gin & tonic.

“Little different than the Burnetts and lemonade we were drinking back then huh,” he teased and you fake gagged.

“God, anytime I see that bottle, I want to throw up,” you complained, and he laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You took the drink from the bartender before stepping off to the side with Andrei.

“So I’m here being a supportive friend, what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Trying to find investors for my company,” you said and he nodded, not acting surprised at all.

“You were always the smart one between the two of us,” he said and you smiled.

Another guy walked over to Andrei, slapping his hand on his shoulder, “Hey man, just let me do one more round and we can leave.”

Turning to you, the man took in your appearance appreciatively and Andrei stiffened next to him.

“And who might this be?” He asked, holding out his hand to you. You shook it, amused.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you introduced and his eyes widened.

“From Teva?” he asked, and you nodded, surprised. "I'm a big fan of your guys’ tech. I talked to Jenna earlier and am going to meet up with her this week for a demo. You are incredibly impressive.”

Blushing you thanked him and Andrei frowned, not liking the interaction.

“Y/n is one of my childhood friends,” Andrei said, joining the conversation, and his friend looked back at you before smirking knowingly.

“Ah yes, you’ve mentioned her before,” he said and Andrei’s face reddened. You shot him a curious look before noticing Jenna waving at you from across the room.

“I have to go, but it was good to see you, Dre. My number is still the same, so let’s catch up soon,” you said, and he nodded, watching you walk toward your friend.

“I can see why you never got over her,” Jack said, watching you shamelessly as you left. Andrei just shoved him as a response.

——————————————————————————

AI: are you free for dinner tomorrow? Practice ends earlier Y/N: that works for me, where? AI: want to just come to my place? I was thinking we could make that teriyaki chicken thing we always used to make Y/N: that sounds amazing, i’ll be there around 6 :30

After work, you stopped by your apartment to change into a comfy pair of leggings and long-sleeve Bengals shirt before entering his address into your GPS. Andrei met you outside and smiled at you as you pulled in.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around to hug him in greeting, sighing as he held you to him and your heart fluttered, just like old times. You knew it was wishful thinking that your crush on him back in the day wouldn’t come back. And now here he was in front of you, twice as attractive as he used to be.

"Come on in," Andrei said, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as he guided you inside. The apartment was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city skyline.

"Nice place," you commented, taking it all in.

"Thanks," he replied, a hint of shyness in his voice. "Make yourself at home. I'll grab us some drinks."

You settled onto the plush couch, watching as Andrei moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. He returned with two glasses of white wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling, "tell me everything I've missed in the last five years."

You laughed, launching into stories about your startup, successes and failures, and the whirlwind your life had become. Andrei listened intently, commenting occasionally, a small smile on his face as he took you in.

Out of breath you took a drink at the same time as you heard his stomach growl.

“Why don’t we get started on dinner while you tell me everything that I missed in the last five years,” you suggested and he quickly agreed.

Working on the sauce and chicken, you listened to him tell you about Princeton and then getting drafted to the Bengals. You asked a million questions, all that he answered happily and it began to feel like the two of you had never been apart in the first place.

“Remember that time our jet ski died and we were stranded for a couple of hours,” you said, before taking another bite of the dinner.

“How could I forget?” He joked. “I was freaking out, and you were floating on your back the whole time, telling me that I just needed to ‘be one with the water.’”

You laughed, reminiscing on the memory, remembering a bunch more like it.

“You always kept me calm,” he said softly, looking deep into your eyes. You felt a shift in the atmosphere. “I think it’s what I’ve missed most about you these past years. I definitely could have used you.”

“You are a star, Dre; you didn’t need me,” you said, giving him a small smile. He looked away, contemplating. "What’s on your mind?”

“It’s hard sometimes,” he admitted. “I feel like the whole world is on my shoulders, and I’m one bad game away from losing it all.”

He wasn’t looking at you as he said this; instead, he picked at his nails, an old habit you see that he still hasn’t broken. You took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“Remember that game senior year, where you fumbled twice and had zero catches,” you said and he met your eyes, giving you an annoyed look.

“I’d love to see where you are going with this,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“It was the worst game I’d ever seen you play. And then you showed up for the next game and had 300 hundred receiving yards and three touchdowns. I know you, Dre; one game could never define you.”

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling in their depths. He squeezed your hand back, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"You always knew exactly what to say," he murmured. "God, I've missed you."

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You were acutely aware of how close you were sitting, how his knee was just barely brushing against yours. Your heart raced as you realized just how much you had missed him too - his laugh, his unwavering support, the way he made you feel seen and understood.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Andrei's gaze dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. He leaned in slightly, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn’t. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to touch yours but instead were jerked back to reality with the sound of your phone.

Looking at the screen, you saw that it was Jenna calling.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you said and he gave you a small smile, face flushed.

“Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”

———————————————————————

It had been a week since you had dinner at Andrei’s and neither of you had brought up the almost kiss. He’d been texting you every day, and there was a new flirty vibe that had you thinking that maybe he did feel the same way about you.

You weren’t thinking about any of that today as you were drowning in work. Someone had found a bug in the software, and you had spent the whole day trying to figure out a fix so that you could push a new patch.

By 8pm, you were emotionally drained and feeling like you were going insane, and after another failure, you simply burst into tears. And if things couldn’t get worse, your phone went off, and Andrei’s face came over the screen.

“Hello,” you said, voice cracking slightly.

“What’s wrong, angel? " he asked concerned, and the use of your childhood nickname made you cry even more. “Are you crying?”

“It’s fine,” you sniffled. “Just work.”

“It’s not fine, I’m coming to pick you up.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’ll be there in five,” he said tightly before hanging up.

Sighing, you gathered your stuff and texted Jenna that you were calling it a night as you were completely stuck. Andrei was leaning against his car as you walked out of the building, and your resolve started to crumble the second you saw him. His arms quickly wrapped around you, and you stepped into his touch, clinging onto his shirt.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay.”

He moved one of his hands into your hair, gently massaging your head and you tried to calm down.

“Sometimes I don’t know if this is all worth it,” you admitted, pulling back to look at him through your teary eyes.

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to gently wipe away your tears. "Hey, don't say that. You've worked so hard for this. One bad day doesn't negate everything you've accomplished."

You sniffled, leaning into his touch. "I know, it's just... sometimes it feels like too much."

"I get it," he said softly. "But you're not alone in this, okay? You've got people who care about you, who want to support you." His eyes bore into yours. "You've got me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Andrei..."

He pulled you close again, resting his chin on top of your head. "Come on, let's get out of here. I know just what you need."

Before you could protest, he was opening the passenger door for you. You climbed into his car, pulling the mirror down to wipe the mascara from under your eyes. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence, and you laughed as you saw where Andrei was pulling in.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you admitted as Andrei got behind another car in the drive-thru of a Steak n’ Shake.

“Me either,” he said, shooting you a playful smile. “But it’s still a reflex to get you a peanut butter chocolate shake anytime I see a single tear on your pretty face.”

You blushed, putting your head into your hands. He grabbed one of your hands, forcing you to look at him.

“No more tears,” he said, and you rolled your eyes but smiled, repeating the phrase to him, just like you had countless times before.

He pulled out his wallet to pay for the shakes and the top of a photograph caught your attention.

“What’s that?” You asked curiously and he looked down to see what you were referring to before he started to stutter.

“Nothing,” he mumbled and you gave him a look. He let you take the wallet and you pulled out the picture. It was of the two of you when you were maybe 15 at the beach by your houses. Andrei’s arms were around you as he stood behind, both of you smiling widely at the camera.

“I love this picture,” you said. “I didn’t know you had a copy.”

“It reminds me of home,” he said, refusing to meet your eyes and you smiled softly to yourself. After handing you your shake, you directed him to your apartment and made the drive over. He followed you in, noting how much your place just felt like you. The apartment was small, but cozy and inviting. The walls were painted a soft cream color, decorated with vibrant paintings and colorful tapestries. The furniture was mismatched but fit perfectly, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

He sank down on your couch as you dug around the remote, finally finding it and flipping on a Hallmark Christmas movie you had bookmarked.

“Are you serious?” He complained and you smiled widely at him.

“I’m the one upset, so I get to pick.”

He patted the space next to him and you sat down, leaning your head into his shoulder as he rested his arm behind you.

As the movie played, you felt yourself relaxing into Andrei's warmth. His fingers absently traced patterns on your shoulder, sending little shivers down your spine. You tried to focus on the cheesy plot unfolding on the screen, but your mind drifted to the man beside you.

"This is nice," you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him.

Andrei's eyes met yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Almost," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. There was something different now, an electric current running between you that hadn't been there before.

He shifted slightly, his face now inches from yours. "Angel," he breathed, his eyes searching yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something."

Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, waiting.

“I didn’t know if life would bring us back together, but it did so I don’t want to waste any more time. I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old.”

Your breath hitched as he kept going.

“Us losing touch was the worst thing that happened to me and I won’t let it happen again. Even if you don’t feel the same, now you know.”

He looked away as he said the last part, clearly stressed which made you giggle. His eyes snapped back to yours questioningly.

“Of course I love you Dre. I’d be insane not to love you,” you told him smiling.

He let out a short laugh before looking down at your lips again. This time, there was no interruption as Andrei leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening. But as you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with years of pent-up longing and desire.

Andrei's hands found their way to your waist, holding you tight against him as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You sighed contentedly into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair. It felt like coming home, like everything in your life had been leading to this moment.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, Andrei rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with joy.

You smiled, running your thumb along his jawline. “If only I knew being apart for five years would have made you confess, I would have left sooner.”

[mozzeralla-stix]

Thankful

Carl Grimes x F! Reader.

Both are 18+ in this scenario!!

Warnings: pregnancy, implied smut

Nobody asked for this but ur getting it anyways. Just a cute little drabble that popped into my head. Don’t worry, it’s not teen pregnancy!!

————————————————————————

A classical music record spinning, people chatting and laughing loudly, the aroma of homemade pies and casseroles; it was evident that Thanksgiving was at an all time high in Alexandria. You carefully place the steaming apple pie onto the counter, officially finishing the last dish that needed to be cooked for the evening. Carl sneaks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist, eventually landing on your stomach and softly placing his head in the crook of your neck. He places gentle kissing before he begins to mumble, “Are you ready to tell them?”

You let out a shaky breath and nod, mentally preparing yourself for the evening moving forward. Carol announces that it’s time to eat, and everyone takes their seats around the large dining table. You look around you and see an amazing community full of family and friends, people who have stuck by your side for years now. People who have kept you safe. You turn to Carl and give him a soft smile, gently placing your hand over his in adoration. With the force of your feet, you push your chair back and stand up, tapping your glass with a fork to get everyone’s attention. Suddenly, all eyes are on you.

“Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I am so happy to be here with you all. I know I’m not one to usually speak up so much, so I’m sure you can all guess there’s something important to say..”

I glance down at Carl and meet his pretty blue eyes, his lips turned up in a soft smile.

“Carl and I have an announcement to make. After being together for several years, and feeling so safe surrounded by everyone at this dinner tonight; we are proud to say that we are welcoming a new member of the family soon.. I’m pregnant!” Everyone looks at you with a shocked expression, before Rick and Michone look at each other with joy. Once again, the chatter starts to come back and ‘congratulations’ are being thrown towards you and Carl. You sit down and hug him tightly, before giving him a small kiss on the cheek. Suddenly, you realize how much the future truly holds.

\\\\\\ 3 Weeks Ago //////

Carl gives you one last warm and tender kiss before reaching inside your shared bedside drawer, hastily pulling out a condom from your stash. You can’t help but giggle in excitement, despite the fact that you two have done this a million time. You notice the strange look on Carl’s face, and ask him what’s wrong.

“Well… it says it’s expired. But it’s probably still fine, right?” He says, unsure of himself. You nod and reply back. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about….”

—————————————————————————

[growingthing]

______________________

.•.~*results*~.•.

ততততততততততততততততততত

total cal intake: 4352/1700

total cals burned: -1700

net intake: 2652, or,

about one day of a tall person eating

I failed this challenge! I failed multiple times, on multiple different days. Even so, I learned a lot (as a chronic f4st and b1nger). Creating all these different meals to fit under the cal limit was so fun! And honestly, at 350-600, i’ve figured out how to genuinely be full on a deficit. I think I’ll always feel a little hungry under that, but this was a really fun experiment, and I’ll continue using this experience in my weight loss journey. Okay. Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for,

dundundundudnundundun

•••

total lost: -2.3kg/5lbs

__________________________

I’m really happy with these results! Even though I failed the diet, I still lost a lot of weight, AND i lost inches on my legs. I didn’t get to take a picture of the before, but at the start of this challenge, i had to wear leggings or pants to the gym. On the day after I finished the challenge, day 8, I wore shorts and didn’t even have to apply deodorant to my thighs to keep them from chafing. Huge, huge progress.

Difference between this diet and fasting:

I’ve f4sted every month for a year now, and I’m actually quite good at it. My longest f4st has been 7 days long, so exactly equal to this challenge’s length. During that, I lost 3.3kg/7.26lbs. So, while f4sting, you will lose more weight naturally. I’m unfortunately very prone to b1nging, though, so, by the end of that, i ate and ate and regained almost all of it. On this diet, however, I felt full and happy almost every single day. I had a lot more cravings than i do with f4sting (due to ghrelin decreasing while f4sting), but my mental hunger was sated consistently. I was able to eat with people and not have to hide away for a week around meals. This was much more sustainable. Additionally, I feel like the weight I lost during this past week was easier to keep off during the following days. While writing this, it’s 11/30/24, two days after thanksgiving, and i weigh 63.1kg. I’m still losing.

On top of all that, I’ve begun working out consistently recently, and being able to eat protein everyday while still losing weight really helped during my gym days. I wasn’t stuck with walking for hours as my only exercise. It was really nice.

good luck everyone who’s going to try this diet! thanks for tuning in <3

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

did this diet with my wonderful moot, @rueisdying last week!!! I’ve been saving up pictures and cals and diaries, so it’s going to be a huuuuge, week long log. be prepared lol

[jothemouse]

I posted 30 times in 2022

25 posts created (83%)

5 posts reblogged (17%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jothemouse

@nylazor

@yuhoht-t

I tagged 29 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#mice can draw - 15 posts

#my art - 11 posts

#digital art - 10 posts

#original character - 10 posts

#oc - 10 posts

#artists on tumblr - 9 posts

#digital illustration - 9 posts

#character illustration - 9 posts

#team bloom - 8 posts

#artfight 2022 - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#i hold all of you who have this piece in some way or another in a little compartment in my brain labeled crazy but loveable

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i had a better caption earlier

24 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#4

anyway, chibi eda and luz

35 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

wow. 2 years.

lot’s changed.

184 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#2

happy birthday to the best fictional twins🌲💫

See the full post

757 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

started watching dimension 20

See the full post

948 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[deer-a-day]

341

deer trying to express thanks

[ceallachs]

It's my birthday today~

[jamieedlund]

May thesis wip & sketch dump —

Failing tasks and kicking ass ✊🤛👊🤜

[0brighta]

✦

[viarayy01-blog]

INSANITY WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM...