#college reader

[fandomnerd9602]

Nerdy!Natasha and Y/N giggle and cuddle in their college dorm apartment…

Y/N: I guess it is true what they say

Natasha: what?

Y/N: nerds make the best lovers

Natasha: (giggles) that’s a two way street, my nerd

Y/N: my nerd

The two kiss and nuzzle on their bed, just enjoying their lives together…

[fandoms-writings]

Masterpiece

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: bartender!bucky x college!reader (age gap of 10-ish years)

Word count: a little over 8K (sorryyyyyyy)

Summary: you’ve been dating Bucky for a few months now, and it’s your final art show before you graduate, and he’s excited to see your final piece.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI Bucky (he needs his own warning in this one), pet names (sugar, baby, sir, daddy), alcohol and weed consumption, tiny bit of self doubt from Bucky but it doesn’t last long, he’s head over heels guys, smut at the end, like, detailed smut. If you don’t wish to read it, I’ve put a divider where it starts 😌 fingering, oral (f receiving), Bucky talks a lot in bed, unprotected sex (protect yourself irl please)

A/N: this is my first time like really writing smut so please bare with me but i hope you love it 🫶🏼

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi <3

Series Masterlist || Bucky Masterlist || Main Masterpost

Bucky adjusted the cuff of his sleeve around his wrist, fidgeting with the fabric as he glanced at the clock for the thousandth time in the past hour. 

He was meeting you at the final art show of your school before summer -it was your final show. You were graduating in just a couple weeks and he wanted to be by your side for all of it if you'd let him.

Though he didn't know anything about art - other than the fact that he loved watching you paint. You got this look on your face when you were focused and it was as if you were oblivious to anything else going on around you. The way your brows would just slightly crease in the middle as your eyes locked on to the colors you were working with or the canvas set on the easel. Sometimes the tip of your tongue would prod at your bottom lip or at the inside of your cheek while you decided what little details needed more of your attention. 

There had been countless nights of you working on your final pieces for this exhibit being put together by your professor where Bucky got the opportunity to keep you company. You liked to paint in the bar while he worked, using the paints he'd gotten for you for Christmas. He'd come around to the corner that everyone knew was now yours where he'd make you take a much needed break, usually getting you to listen if he had a small plate of food from Sam. You'd usually take that time to ask him what he thought of what you had so far, even though he wasn't sure how much of a help he actually was. 

Most of your paintings were of his regulars and every single one blew him away. But you never let him see the final piece, so he was excited to see tonight what you'd made. 

After clasping his watch around his wrist, Bucky took one last glance at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked alright. 

He hoped he wasn't over dressed in his suit, you hadn't told him exactly what kind of attire he should show up in, other than he needed to dress nice and that he should wear maroon. He'd had Natalia go with him to pick it out - he hadn't needed a suit in years so he didn't exactly have one ready. She'd helped him pick it out but now that he was looking at himself, it felt like too much. 

He wasn't really sure what you saw in him if he was being honest with himself. He was a little over a decade older than you and it showed. He'd started sporting more gray in his beard than he liked to admit and there were permanent wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The smile lines and the frown lines both sunk a little deeper into his cheeks. He preferred a night in, reading a new book, over a night out. 

Maybe I should lose the tie? He thought as studied his appearance. 

He reached up to pull the fabric around his neck loose when there was a knock at the door. 

"Bucky!" Ana's voice filtered through the door, "Are you ready? We've gotta go if we're gonna catch the subway in time!" 

Pulling open his front door, he realized maybe he wasn't too overdressed. Ana was in a baby blue floor length, thin strapped dress with a slit up her thigh, though it didn't look too uncomfortable - in fact, it looked incredibly soft - and a pair of strappy heels. Her girlfriend, Val, was in a pair of pin striped pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of nice white shoes to finish the look. 

"Oh don't you look nice!" Ana claimed after taking in his suit. 

"Really?" He asked, "I feel like it's too much." He looked again in the mirror by the door, tugging at the tie. "Should I forget the tie?" 

She pondered for a moment, looking him up and down, taking in the charcoal black slacks and matching coat, the maroon button up shirt and the black tie around his neck. 

"It depends," She started, "Do you want to look like a businessman? Or do you want to look like a sexy dilf?" 

"I, um, I don't know," He felt his face flush as he stuttered for an answer, "I just don't want to over do it." 

Ana smirked, "Loose the tie, bring the jacket, but don't wear it." 

He nodded before pulling the tie off and shucking the jacket, carrying it over his arm. He grabbed his keys and went to follow them out before Ana's hand popped up in front of his chest. 

"And undo the top button," She declared. "Actually, the top two." 

~

The outside of the building was rather plain in Bucky's opinion. The sunset was reflecting off of the large floor to ceiling windows that were framed in black, and he could see the exhibit all put together on the other side of the glass. 

There were already several people filling the space, but you'd told everyone you'd meet them outside. Bucky watched the crowd pass by on the sidewalk as Ana and Val discussed their plans for tomorrow night. 

He'd never been to something like this. Sure, he'd accompanied you to the art museum, but this was for you. He came to support you specifically and he felt like maybe something was missing now. 

Should I have brought flowers? A gift? He gnawed on the edge of his bottom lip as he looked around. Usually there were vendors out, selling little nick nacks or souvenirs. Really just anything to make a living. And among those was typically a flower cart. But as he looked around, the carts of random items were nowhere to be seen, packed and gone home for the night. 

He let out a disappointed sigh through his nose and turned his attention back to the door right as you walked out. 

His mind stopped working as he saw you, time freezing for him as he took you in. 

You were wearing a beautiful long sleeve dress with a shawl collar, its color split down the middle. The left side was a deep black, the right matching the same maroon as his dress shirt. The waist was cinched in just enough high on your waist to accentuate the curves you already had and the flared hem stopped just below your knees. There were black strappy heels on your feet and your hair was styled perfectly. And to top it off, you were wearing the simple rose gold necklace he'd seen you wear everywhere you went, the jewelry resting on its claimed spot of your collar. 

He didn't take another breath until your eyes landed on him and you gave him that amazing smile of yours, your lips lined in the same deep maroon. You weaved yourself around the people lingering at the front of the building until you stopped just short before him. The heels you were wearing gave you a little bit of height, but he was still taller than you by at least half a head. 

"Hi," You breathed it out as if the sight of him had stolen your breath too.

"Hi," He couldn't stop the corners of his lips from pulling up as he gazed down at you. "You look stunning." 

You didn't fight the grin that took over you as you muttered a 'thanks' and ducked your head. You reached for his arm, setting your hand against it as you looked back up at him, "You don't look too bad yourself." 

Ana clearing her throat had you two whipping your heads to her and Val, "While you do look amazing," She stated with a pointed finger at you, "It's getting chilly out so maybe we can take this love fest inside?" 

Bucky's cheeks flushed and he stifled his laugh as you tried to glare at your roommate while being obviously flustered that you'd walked right past her. You straightened your back and squared your shoulders. 

"Only because you asked so nicely," You bit back. The small venom in your words didn't hold any actual mal intent, and everyone in your group knew that as they laughed. Ana and Val lead the way, holding the door open for you and Bucky.

At the feeling of Bucky's hand resting on the small of your back, you glanced over your shoulder, giving him your small smile again before turning and leading him inside. 

The inside was dark, the walls a dark gray, almost black. Each art piece on display had a warm off-white spotlight shining on it. Bucky expected the space to be louder than it was, just by seeing how many people were here, but he was pleasantly surprised when everyone's conversations were mere murmurs and mumbles as you all passed by, most of them drowned out by the subtle music playing over the speakers.  

You took him on a tour around the gallery, arm in arm and pointing out pieces that were made by your friends. They were all wonderful and amazing pieces, but he really just wanted to see your stuff, but he remained patient while you were stopped by peers and professors from your college along the way, only speaking when you introduced him. This was your night, and he wasn't going to take that away from you by stealing conversations. He also didn't know much about art, only really about how much time and effort went into each piece - thanks to you and Steve - so he wasn't about to pretend he knew what he was talking about. 

Looking ahead to the direction you were leading him before you got stopped again, he could notice one of the paintings he'd watched you paint. You'd been sitting in your chair on the other side of your living room while he was watching a show - well, he was supposed to be watching a show, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Bucky?" Your voice caught his attention again, along with a tug on his sleeve, and he looked over to you. You had a worried look on your face, but the girl who'd stopped you just a moment ago was still there. 

"What, sugar?" He asked. 

"If you're bored, you can go on ahead, it's okay," You were trying not to let too much of any emotion into your voice with how quiet you were being. Something about the way you said it made Bucky think he's not the first person you said that to. But who in their right mind would make you feel like you had to say that? Who would be so disinterested in you before him that now you had the instinct to tell him not to wait for you? It was unacceptable. 

"I'm perfectly fine where I am, don't worry about me," he grinned down at you, trying to ease the sudden anxiety coming off of you in waves. You smiled, letting your shoulder relax as you turned back to your friend Zoe, who could only help but smirk at the two of you. 

"Hey," she said, gaining both of your attention, "My roommates and I are having a small party to celebrate today, you should come. Both of you." 

"Oh, I'd love to, but," You turned to Bucky, "Don't you have to work?" 

"I do," He grinned, "But I can always take off early, meet you there. If you want?" 

"Who would close the bar?" 

"Hey, give Sam some credit, he knows how to close the bar on his own. He's a big boy." 

You laughed at that before turning to Zoe, "We'll be there." 

You went your separate ways, linking your arm with Bucky's and leading him down the hall where your artwork was on display. "You sure you want to party with a bunch of youngsters, old man?" You leaned in and asked, earning a laugh from him before he sighed. 

"Oh, I don't know. I may have doomed myself, huh?" 

"Mhm, probably." You hummed with a giggle before turning him to an open room with statues in the middle, your pieces lining the walls on the other side. 

You knew the second he saw it, almost as soon as you walked in, because he took in a sharp breath, eyes locked on the other side of the room. 

"Whoa," He breathed out, hesitating to take another step closer. Your nerves grew with his sudden change of movements and you couldn't help but squeeze his elbow. 

"You like it?" You asked, and he must've sensed your worries through your voice because he whipped his head to you. 

"This is incredible," He said while pointing at it. 

It was a combination of different sized canvases all painted in his bar, placed strategically across the whole wall. Each one contained a different scene, but they were manipulated just enough to where if you stood at the right angle, they created one large picture. All of his regulars, your friends, his friends who worked with him, all there. In the center was him, with a cocktail shaker in his hands and a smile on his face. 

"What was your theme for this?" He asked, finally walking closer to see all of his favorite faces on the wall. 

"I chose community, family, a support system," You explained, "And you have such a strong one, I couldn't help it." 

"You missed someone, though," He said, his voice dropping in disappointment and you couldn't help it when the smile on your lips fell. 

"What? What do you mean?" You looked from him to the wall, searching the faces for who was missing. You were there often enough that you knew everyone who was a regular. You knew. There was no way you missed anyone. 

"You," He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, "You're not in here." 

You couldn't help the coo that you let slip from your lips and you held in a laugh, "Aw, I'm sorry. I'll have to paint one and fit me in somewhere." 

He smiled at that, "I know where you can go." 

"Oh yeah? Where's that?" You asked as he pulled you close with one hand and looking at the painting, pointed to a spot with his other. 

"Right next to me." 

~

"Bucky!" You called out as you padded down the driveway straight for him. You'd exchanged the dress and heels from earlier for a more comfortable outfit, joggers covering your legs and a loose long sleeved shirt keeping you warm. 

He braced himself, steadying his feet and holding out his arms before you crashed into him. Your giggles flooded his ears as he stumbled backward but held on tight to you, keeping you both from toppling to the ground. 

"Hi, sugar," He chuckled into your hair. You smelled like weed and beer and he could only imagine what he'd been missing as you squoze him to death. You nuzzled your nose into his neck, inhaling and getting one more squeeze in before you pulled away. 

"You always smell so good," You had a half pout on your face as you pulled back, "It's not fair." 

He let out a hearty laugh at that, "How's it not fair?" 

"Because I know there are girls out there that see you at the bar and then get a whiff of your cologne and a look at your face and then they want you, but they can't have you, cause you're mine," You rambled and he laughed, doing his best to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at you calling him yours. 

"I still don't understand how it's not fair to you, but alright." 

"It's not fair because I wanna smell like you all the time," You mumbled before turning and tugging him toward the house. 

"You know all you have to do is ask and that can be arranged, right?" He asked, watching you walk in front of him.You peaked over your shoulder at him with an amused but curious look in your eyes and he smiled. "It's kind of a perk to, ya know, dating me. If you ask, I'll give you anything." 

"Anything, huh?" You cheekily asked as you opened the door to the house, the music spilling out into the garage as you led him inside. 

"Don't make me regret saying that," he chuckled. 

You led him to the kitchen, getting him a drink that you made incredibly strong. To get him caught up is what you claimed it was for. Though by the way your eyes were rimmed red, he'd be right to assume you were more stoned than you were drunk. 

He thought that he'd stand out too much at this party, being a decade older than pretty much everyone there, but all of your college friends were good about including him. Inviting him to play drinking games, roping him into conversations he actually enjoyed, and even offering him what you'd smoked. He'd taken a couple small hits, but he wanted to be able to drive you home later so he kept it light. He'd actually driven for you, and he never really pulled his car out of the garage - it was easier to walk the city. 

He liked being here with you, even if you were on the other side of the room, dancing your heart out with your friends. He got to sit back and watch, reveling in the warmth that spread through his chest - whether it be from the small amount of liquor or from seeing you so happy he wasn't sure - but he'd welcome it regardless. 

He loved seeing you so carefree. Usually, you constantly had your head in your paints and pencils, working on your next piece. And he was so proud of you, don't get him wrong, but he was glad you were letting yourself go, even if it was just for the night. He was sure you'd be right back to it tomorrow - well, maybe in a couple days, he was sure you'd probably have a killer hangover in the morning. 

The music changed and he watched as you stole the blunt from Zoe - though she was too preoccupied to really notice. You waltzed over to him, taking a long drag and then holding it out for him, but he declined and you passed it onto the next person before you placed yourself on his knee, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his free hand around you back, holding you steady as you nuzzled into his neck again. 

"You look good out there, sugar," He muttered so only you would hear, not that anyone here was in their right mind enough to pay attention to the two of you. 

"Mm, it was a good song," You mumbled, raking your fingers through his hair. He'd wanted to cut it a few weeks ago, but you gave him those puppy eyes of yours, claiming that you liked to play with it and tug on it. And who was he to take that from you? So he let it keep growing, and even though he didn't really enjoy having to actually try to get it to lay right, the feeling of your fingers running through it was more than worth it. 

"You ready to get going? Or did you wanna stay longer?" He asked, shifting so he could press his lips to the side of your face. 

You hummed in thought before you slightly pulled away, just enough to get a look at him. 

"What're we going to do when we get home?" You asked and his heart jumped at your words. He loved when you called it home. You still were across the hall, but you were over so often, your things littering his space, it was basically your home too. He loved it. 

"Whatever you want to do," He whispered against your lips before gently closing the distance for a quick kiss, tasting the weed and alcohol on your tongue. 

"Anything?" You asked, and if the way your fingers tightened on his hair didn't tell him what you wanted, the fiery look in your eyes sure did - the sparks there igniting the fire in his own body. 

"I said anything, didn't I?" He asked with a smirk and you smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

"We should get going then," You muttered before placing a heated kiss upon his lips. It only lasted a moment before you jumped up from his lap and he leaned to try to keep your lips on his. "Let me say bye first, kay?"

"Alright, sugar, I'll be here when you're ready." He watched you saunter off to your friends, getting lost in the crowd as he adjusted his suddenly too tight pants. 

"Isn't she a little young for you?" A voice asked to Bucky's left and he turned his head with a scowl on his face. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked. The man - boy, really - next to him smirked. 

"Name's Flash," He cockily said, his nose tipped up in the air. 

"What's it to you?" Bucky asked, taking the last swig of his beer, and setting down the bottle a little harder than he meant to. 

"Well, shouldn't she be with someone a little more her age?" Flash asked and Bucky huffed a laugh before standing to his full height, watching as Flash's eyes widened once he towered over the boy. 

"Maybe she would be if boys your age knew how to treat her." He turned at the sound of your voice getting close and found you trotting up to him. 

"Ready?" You asked, a large smile on your face. He smiled, leaning down, pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You let out the tiniest whine and he smiled against your lips before backing away. He peaked over his shoulder at Flash whose face was red as a cherry. 

"I'm ready, sugar. Let's go home," He turned back to you, offering his elbow for you to take, reveling in the feeling of your delicate grasp on his skin. 

Regardless of how he handled that situation, he couldn't help but think about his thoughts earlier that day. What did you see in him? 

He glanced at you, walking beside him to his car. You were rambling about something, but in your drug induced state, not much of it made sense to him. He helped you into the passenger seat before making his way around the front to climb in the driver's side. When he got the car started, he noticed you'd gone quiet and you were staring at him, your lids half closed in your relaxed demeanor. 

He chuckled and started the car, "What're you lookin at?" 

"You," You drawled out, reaching over to wrap your hand around his bicep and laying your head there, never looking away. 

"What're you doin that for, huh?" He looked to the road, pulling out of the parking spot and starting the way home. Your fingers trailed across his chest, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake that crawled throughout his entire body. 

"Cause I can, and I like lookin' at you," You lazily slurred, pressing your lips to the skin of his arm. "You're handsome," You muttered into his skin before tilting your head up again, "and sexy." 

"Mm, I'm not too old for you?" He asked, keeping his tone light. He knew you'd already talked about this exact thing, back during christmas, but Flash's comment was seared in his head. 

You sat up, your brows scrunched as your intense gaze burned a hole in the side of his face. 

"What did Flash say to you?" You demanded and he couldn't help the upward movement of his brows. 

"How did you know?" He asked, stopping at the red light and turning to you, the red glow against your skin making you look ethereal in your sudden frustration. 

"Because he's an asshole and can't keep his mouth shut or his opinions to himself." You stated, "What did he say?"

He sighed, looking to the road, watching the light. "He made a comment about how you're too young for me." 

The light turned green and he slowly went through the intersection as you sighed. 

"If you were too old for me, I wouldn't be with you," You stated. He glanced between you and the road, seeing nothing but sincerity in your face and he smiled. 

"Yeah?" He asked, "You aren't scared of being seen with an old man like me?" 

You laughed at that, "You aren't that old!" 

"Oh, c'mon! I've got gray hairs already!" He laughed back, getting more giggles from you in return. 

"I like the gray hairs!" You collected yourself before leaning in, your hand on his leg making him jump and almost swerve the car. Your lips brushed against his ear as your fingers moved along his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he really wanted you earlier. "Plus, you actually know what you're doing when you fuck me." 

He swallowed as he tilted his head to make room for your lips on his neck. You weren't usually this forward, but oh man was he loving it. 

"If you don't stop, I'm gonna have to pull the car over and deal with you in the back seat," He gruffly muttered as you lips sucked on that spot on his neck. 

"Mm," you let go of his neck, "Maybe I want you to." He stopped at the next red light and turned to face you, seeing that spark from earlier back in your eyes and he groaned. 

"You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that?"

You giggled and bit your lip, dragging your teeth in the enticing way that you do and he knew he was done for.

"You did say we could do anything I wanted," You whispered, your hand squeezing his thigh again and he shook his head. 

"I did say that, didn't I?" He laughed at your giggle and when the glow against your skin turned green he took off. 

"How about, if you're good till we get home, I'll do that thing you like," He suggested, noticing how your thighs clenched in your seat and your hand tightened around his leg again. He took a glance at you to see all teasing gone from your features and he knew he had you. 

You silently watched him from your seat, eyes darting over his features to see if he was just toying with you. When he got to the next light and stopped, he turned to you again. 

"Well? You gonna be good, sugar?"

The second he got the door open, Bucky pulled you inside, closing the door and locking it as he pressed you against it, molding your lips together. 

With the promise of doing what you loved, you held yourself together on the way home and you were good, so he was going to keep his end of the deal. 

He threw his keys to the counter, hoping they didn't knock anything down as one of his hands gripped the side of your neck and his other wrapped around your waist. He dragged his teeth along your bottom lip, pulling a whine from your throat as he did so and he couldn't help the groan that shook his chest. 

He let go of your neck, tapping your butt with his hands, telling you to jump. You'd done this dance so many times it was like second nature catching your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he could take you to the bed. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands as he walked you to the bed, gently laying you down. He untangled your legs from around him and tried to pull himself away from your grasp, chuckling at your whines of protest. 

"Hold on, sugar," He muttered against your lips before you finally let him go. He stood, bringing each of your legs up so he could pull off your shoes, throwing them to the corner of the room. He felt you tug on the hem of his shirt and he smirked at you. "C'mon now, you know the rules." 

You put on a fake pout and tugged on it again, "Come back." 

He grinned at you, "How do good girls ask?" You narrowed your eyes at him before quickly sitting up to grab his collar, pulling him back down with you and pressing your lips to his again. 

"Please," You whispered in his mouth and he couldn't help the chuckle he let out, getting a giggle from you in return. 

"You're a brat," he said into your skin as he moved to your neck, dragging his lips across the spot where your neck met your shoulder, another sinful whine filling his ears, driving him mad. 

"You like it though," Came your breathy reply. He sat up, holding the hem of your shirt and looking at your face. You were already gone, lost in the moment and he tugged on the fabric to gain your attention. 

"Can I?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, a lazy smile growing on your swollen lips. 

"You know you don't have to ask, anymore," You claimed as you arched your back to help him take your shirt off. 

"I know, but it's the gentlemanly thing to do," he leaned down, tracing kisses down your sternum, and nipping at the flesh of each of your breasts. He reached behind you, pinching the clasp of your bra to open it, pulling it forward and dragging the straps down your arms before tossing it anywhere else. 

"I don't know why you wear that thing," he muttered, moving from one to the other, his breath leaving a hot trail across your skin. He watched as your skin prickled with goosebumps and he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face, "It can't be comfortable." 

You giggled when he dragged his scruff across your side, "I'm not explaining it again."

"Fine," he softly bit down on your hip, "keep my girls locked up and away from me, why don't you?" 

"Your girls?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him and whining when he looked up at you through his lashes, refusing to let go of your skin before he was sure there would be a mark there in the morning.

"Yeah, my girls," He declared, reaching up with his left hand to gently squeeze your breast, "They're mine, aren't they?" He reached around your leg with his other hand and grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he crawled back up to you. 

Your hands came up from the bed and tugged his shirt up, ignoring his question. He sat back, pulling the offending fabric over his head and he went to throw it but remembered earlier and he looked at you before holding it out to you. 

"You like how I smell right?" He asked, and at your shy nod, he set the shirt against your skin, "You keep that, and when it doesn't smell like me anymore, I'll give you a new one. How's that sound?" 

You giggled at him, shaking your head but gently pulling it to hide your face, "Okay." 

"You can't use it to hide from me though," he pulled it from your face, crowding you again and dragging his nose across your cheek, "That's not fair." 

You leaned up, pulling his lips down to yours and tossing the shirt to the side. He rested the weight of his hips on you and groaned when you thrusted up, pressing on him in the best way. 

"You owe me," You whispered against his lips and he chuckled. 

"I know, sugar, I promised, didn't I?" He pulled back, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your joggers, "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" 

You shook your head as you leaned up on your elbows, watching as he leaned down and traced the lines of your legs with his mouth, following the descending pants. Once he threw those god knows where on the floor - he'd find them for you in the morning - he shuffled so he could lay between your legs, pressing an open mouth kiss to your clit through your panties. A groan shook through you as your hips tried to follow him when he pulled back. 

"Don't tease me like that," You pouted with a whine, "I was good for you." 

"I know you were," he said the words into the little amount of fabric still covering you, letting his warm breath fan across, driving a shiver up your spine. "You were so good for me, weren't you?" 

You nodded, biting your lip as you watched him, eyes following his fingers as they slipped between you and the fabric before he pulled it back and let it gently snap back at you. When your narrowed eyes snapped to him, he let out a laugh before finally doing what you wanted. 

Once he had that out of the way, he resettled between your legs, wrapping his hands around your thighs and glanced down, a smile growing on his face before he looked up at you again. 

"All this for me?" He asked, leaning his head closer, but when you didn't respond, he froze, his mouth hovering over you, watching you. "Sugar," he drawled, knowing you weren't too far gone to have forgotten the rules - not yet. 

He started this little rule with you when he found out how shy you could get in bed. You'd never been with someone as vocal as he was, and you'd come up with this rule together that if he asked you something, you had to reply.

Huffing a breath out, you finally responded, your voice barely there, "Yes." 

"Good girl," He smirked before dragging his tongue through your folds, groaning when the taste of you hit his tongue. He watched as your jaw went slack when he got to the top, latched his lips around your bundle of nerves and gave it the tiniest suck. A low groan crawled it's way out of your throat as he refused to look anywhere but at you. 

He only pulled his tongue off you for a moment, to angle himself back down before this time fully attaching himself to you, burying himself in you. He held your thighs, gripping them as they tried to flex around his head. Normally, he'd be perfectly fine with it, having your legs wrapped around his head, but he wanted tonight he wanted to hear you. 

It was like this room became his church, you were his deity, and your moans and cries were the choir, reverberating off the walls and flooding his senses as he recited his prayers between your legs. 

He noticed your arms shaking from holding yourself up and released one of your legs, reaching up to press the palm of his hand against your chest, gently pushing you down. "Relax, sugar, let me take care of you, yeah?" He muttered against your folds, groaning into you when you whined, pressing your hips into him. 

He could stay there forever, with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue playing with your center, the taste and sound and smell of you completely taking him over. Your fingers found their place in his hair once again and tugged on the strands, earning another groan from him as he buried it between your fold, sending the vibrations through you. 

He adjusted his arm over you to lay across your stomach, holding your hips down as his other one released your thigh and moved to join his mouth, his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking into you with ease. 

The gasp you let out made him dizzy as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, slowly dragging the pads of his middle and ring fingers along your walls, in search of that spot. 

He knew he found it once you mewled out his name, oh James, and he felt the spongy spot, pressing down on it, your legs clamping around his head. It's not like you didn't call him James in other situations, but there was something about the way you sang it here, in his bed, that made a shiver run through his spine, the ego boost it carried going straight to his head. 

“Right there, sugar?” He smirked against your skin, not giving you a moment to respond before he reattached his mouth to you, pumping his fingers in time with his tongue rolling against your clit, the pads of his two fingers brushing against that spot over and over and over. 

Spurred on by your chants of oh god, right there James, please, please don’t stop, he worked in tandem with the rhythm your hips had chosen. He knew you were close by the way your walls fluttered around his knuckles and the certain way you scratched his arm as it held your hips stiller than you wanted them. 

Without removing his fingers, he pulled his lips off of you, releasing your hips and reaching to catch your hands, holding them both to your stomach as he pulled himself up just enough to be above your chest. You were watching him with glazed over eyes, your lips parted and your chest heaving as he leaned his head down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking on it before grazing his teeth over it. You whined when he released it, but immediately let out a loud moan when he caught the other one, doing the same thing to it. 

"James," you gasped out, "I'm close." 

"Oh sugar, I know. I can feel your walls fluttering," He said as he leaned up to hover his mouth over yours, "Do you wanna cum on my fingers and my tongue, or do you wanna cum on my cock, hm?" He knew you hated when he made you choose like this, as if your brain was clear enough to make a decision. You did your best to look angry at him, but with the way his fingers were moving in and out of you, you couldn't keep the facade up longer than a moment before you moaned again. 

"C'mon, sugar, tell me," His lips brushed against your lips, "Tell me what you want." 

Your panting breaths were fanning against his lips as you fought off your climax, finally giving him an answer. "I want both," You mewled out. 

"Both?" He asked as he moved back down, "You're greedy tonight, aren't you?" 

He didn't know where it came from, the name that rang in his ears, nor did he expect it to have the effect on him that it did. But when the words please, daddy fell from your lips like a prayer - a prayer only he could answer - his brain short circuited. 

You'd never called him that before - hell, he'd never been called that before but by the way he was now painfully erect and he was having trouble holding himself back - he wanted to see what other names he could pull from you. What else would you call him while so lost in what he was doing to you that you didn't even notice what you'd let slip. 

"Fuck. Say that again," He gruffly demanded, holding himself above your core.

It was the fact that you didn't even hesitate before please daddy, don't stop, fell from your lips that had him devouring you like he was a starving man, replacing his fingers with his tongue. You tried to snap your legs around his head but he wrapped his arms around the backs of your thighs to hold them open. 

It wasn't long before he had you falling apart on his tongue with a shout of his name, drinking down everything you had to offer and helping you ride out your orgasm before he finally let you go. He crawled his way up your body, dragging his lips across your stomach, your ribs, your breasts, leaving a wet trail up until he reached your mouth, crashing his lips to yours. 

Your hands flew up to grab his face, pulling him as close as you could get him. He prodded your lips with his tongue, all but begging for entry. When you granted it to him and tasted yourself on him, you let out a long whine. 

Your hands left his face and reached for his belt, tugging on the leather strap. He chuckled at you, "So impatient," before he stood from the bed and finished pulling his layers off.

Reaching for your legs, he made sure he had a good grip on you before slowly pulling you to the edge of the bed where he rested the underside of his cock against your soaked folds, groaning with his head thrown back as you reached up to drag your nails down the skin of his chest. 

Bringing his head back down, he pulled your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, as he told you to be good and hold them there. Your legs were shaking in protest, but you did as he asked, bringing a smirk to his face as he reached for the side of your neck, stroking your cheek with his thumb before grinding himself down on you. 

He watched your eyes flutter as you fought to keep them open, trying to keep your eyes on him as he stroked himself over you, the head brushing against your clit. 

"Don't tease me," You whined out, your grabbing hands growing more desperate to get more of him touching you. You just wanted to feel his skin on yours, in any way he'd offer it. "Please."

He gave the side of your neck the smallest squeeze, watching as you reveled in the pressure, your eyes almost completely closing. "Please what?" 

He thought you were going to respond with the same name from earlier, he was silently praying for it to tumble from your lips again, but what you said was so much better. 

"Please, sir," You all but cried for him and he couldn't ignore the neediness in your voice, even if he wanted to take a minute to just bask in your attention and the names you called him. 

"I got you, baby," He said, pulling away from you just enough to angle himself at your entrance, holding himself back from slamming into you in one go. He knew how sensitive you could get and wanted to make sure you would be okay before he had his way with you. 

"Oh, sugar," he groaned out, squeezing your neck again, "You're always so warm." His breath faltered when you raised your hips, pushing him further into you. Your legs tightened around his hips, pulling him even deeper and he let go of your neck, moving to feel any of your skin he could reach, squeezing everything he could in his hands as he slowly started pumping in and out.

You sighed, finally having the friction you needed, dropping your hands to where his had stopped on your hips. He collected your hands in his own, bringing them together over your stomach and holding both of them in his left while his right one reached down, this thumb pressing slow circles of your clit and earning a sinful moan from you. 

God, he loved being in you, but he wanted more - needed more. He brought your hands over your head, pinning them to the mattress as he crawled over you, angling your hips up to rest on his thighs, going as deep as he could - and by the sounds that escaped your throat, he could tell he was in the perfect spot for you. 

He rocked into you, finding the rhythm that made you cock-drunk and hitting that little spot for you every time. Your pleas filled his head please, right there, oh god right there, don't stop and he swore he could get off on your voice alone as it sang for him. 

He released your hands, grabbing both of your hips to pull them to meet his thrusts, refusing to take his eyes off of you as you cried out for him, each of his thrust earning a louder and louder cry. He would watch you like this all day if the world let him, it was one of his favorite views. But there was one more that he loved just a little bit more. 

He slowed down, slowly dragging himself through your walls and you whined again, moving to reach for him but his voice stopped you. 

"You wanna ride me, sugar?" He asked, smirking when your eyes flew open with determination. He knew you loved it as much as he did when you rode him - possibly even more if he was being honest. 

You nodded your head, wincing when he pulled out of you to crawl up the bed, resting his back against the pillows in front of the headboard. Holding his hands out for you, he helped keep you steady as you took your place over him, sinking back down on to him, the gasp you let out making him twitch in you. 

"C'mon, baby, I wanna see you cum again," He said, releasing your hands once you were fully seated and moving to hold your hips again. Your hands grasped at his chest, scratching his skin as you began to rock yourself. 

It only took a second for you to find your rhythm, your fingers moving along his skin up to his hair and pulling him up to your neck where he sucked on the skin there. He wrapped one of his arms around your back, holding you to him as the noises you let out made him dizzy with need. 

"Jamie, please," You panted, pulling his head back and he knew what you were asking for. He nodded, leaning back and planting his feet on the mattress before thrusting up, meeting your own movements at the perfect angle. 

Your hands landed on his stomach to hold yourself up as he held your hips, pulling you down on to him. He knew you were close again by the pitch of your moans and moved his thumb to stroke your clit again. 

"C'mon baby, give it to me, let me see it," He urged you on and you shook your head, refusing to stop. 

"You first," You squeaked out and he smirked. 

"I'm right behind you, I promise," He moaned, squeezing your hip when you slightly changed the angle, the pressure low in his belly growing and growing. 

"Let go for me, please sugar, let go," he begged, putting just enough pressure behind his thumb to drive you over the edge. 

You cried out as you fell forward, barely catching yourself and it only took him one, two, three more thrusts with your walls fluttering around him for him to follow you over that edge, the white hot pleasure flooding his system as he wrapped his arms around you and held you to him in a death grip. 

Neither of you moved for a while after, catching your breath as your muscles spasmed before relaxing. When he finally calmed down, he reached his hand up to rest on your head and you nuzzled into his neck. He turned his head as much as he could to place his lips against your temple, whispering promises of a love he never intended on breaking. 

The feeling of your lips against his skin stretching into a smile made him sigh, but it was the returned promise of I love you too, Jamie that stole his breath away. 

The warmth that spread through his chest was a welcome one, and he knew that no matter how many times you told him that, his heart would always have that same reaction. 

And he couldn't wait to feel it again. 

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications @remis-library

[lambiewrites]

Feed me more Task Force 141 x CollegeReader rn or no Christmas for you 💀💀💀

Jk, I’m not evil.

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday!🌊⛴️☀️!

Sardines or Couch? 🐟🐠🛏️

The evening drew to and end quickly. With a lot of yelling, banter, whispered teasing between you and the greenette’s, another round of chocolate and the celebratory cast off. Now Masaru manned the ships wheel as the rest of you tried to organize your stuff. Naturally Mitsuki was taking charge, “ok well, Inko, Masaru, and I have already claimed two of the cabins. Since we’re short on L/Ns -“ she smirked as she gave you the side eye, “- we actually have a lot more room than normal.” “So?” The three of you countered. Inko finished her friend thought, “nobody has to -“

and the boys finished for her giving a wicked loud high-five, “No Couch!” “told ya’ they’d take it just fine,” you beamed. To be honest they’d already explained that they didn’t think the boys would even fit on that giant couch anymore. Sleeping arrangements in the houseboat were always tricky where there were 4 cabins, 3 families, and 9 people. Thus, the parents all had their own rooms. Then, that left the coveted 4th room for kids or the L-shaped houseboat couch. Now the couch usually went on rotations every other summer. The back of an old grocery receipt in the kitchen drawer kept record. It always flipped between you and your brother (the obvious arrangement), you and Izuku (the calmest arrangement) your brother and Katsuki (the corresponding option to everyone’s favorite option), and the most frequent option: Izuku and Katsuki. So their current enthusiasm was understandable, “Enjoy it while it lasts. I don’t know what we’re gonna do next year when the other L/Ns arrive with their cute little family.” In front of you Izuku gasped, scraping the sides of the hallway with his luggage, “That’s right! Shota-Kun and Mei have a little baby baby now.” In front of him Katsuki ducked into their shared room, “with a newly manifested quirk.” “oh yeah, what is it again y/n?” Izuku asked following Katsuki. You filed into the room across from them, door wide open as a chorus of zippers started unpacking, “well, it sounds like it may be some form of x-ray like my dad.” You clicked your tongue, chucking your bathing suits into a drawer. “Although we’re not really sure yet. That’s why they’re all together right now, to figure it out.” Izuku hummed from the other room, “I think it’ll be super cool to see if it’s the same quirk.” “Totally! Although Mei’s animal communication quirk with my brothers lasers makes it anyone’s best guess.” “They’ll figure out the squirts quirk eventually,” Katsuki grunted, “if they don’t send us over. Nerd and I can figure it out.” you hummed, “ Shota told me they’ll invite you over to come visit Yuto anyway, but the way it’s been going they might could use some professionals on the job.” “We’d love that! Right Kacchan?” A resounding set of squeaks followed by silence came from the room. You padded over to their doorframe. “we’re never gonna be able to sleep like this!” Izuku covered his face with a hand muttering, “oh man . . .” “Boys you’re officially the human embodiment of sardines right now.” Katsuki threw his hands up into the air jostling Izuku who just stared at him looking defeated, “nows not the time for er’ sass!”

Drumming your fingers against the wall your smile turned into a frown. Seriously? You hung your head before you shouted, “Hey! Aunties we’re gonna need the couch blankets for this trip after all!” ——— （´-`）.｡oO (real life representation of reader)

You’d heroically sacrificed your room for Izuku and settled into the couch hours ago. Now it was the dark hours of the morning when a captains change would happen. ——— Katsuki went about the boat as quietly as he could. Squeezing sideways through that squeaky-ass door and padding out into the living room where the indoors captain wheel was. he squinted his way around the place. Luckily you kids knew it like the back of your hands. Itd been ages since he’d last been on this boat. Last few summers were just him and Izuku busy doing hero training where here you were hanging out with your family. Going off to college and doing a heck of a lot of academia. You coulda been a hero too if you’d wanted, but ya’ never took an interest to it like him and Deku.

A figure stood up from a chair, “Waters easy, still drizzling out there so you can’t see much.” His dad slapped him on the back with a yawn, “see you in the morning light, son.” Katsuki was one of the best captains out of the collective families bunch. Eventually, he’d learn to pilot the whole thing by staying up late at night with Shota while your fathers whispered as they manned the ship. He’s a hell of a lot better at blackjack from those nights too. Makes hanging out at the bar more manageable with his other annoying friends. He grumbled out a, “Night pops’” before settling into the captains chair. “good to know I can still fit.” “g’d to know what?”

Katsuki turned around in a flash, well now his heart was racing. Damn it. “how’d ya? I was being quiet!” He hissed. you stretched like a kitten underneath an old quilt before curling back up into a ball. you waved a hand, hair falling down against your face, “heard ya’ change with your dad. Hmm, sorry to startle ya’ hero.” His ears turned pink, right. So even as a pro he couldn’t sneak up on you without waking you. So much for those stealth lessons from Aizawa. You wriggled deeper into the blanket, lips barely parting, “everyone back asleep now . . .” he sighed watching the familiar adolescent glint of a retainer in your mouth as your chest lightly rose and fall. A heart pulsing that only you could hear. A whole boat full of 6 different hearts that only you could hear from your hazy dream on the couch. An oceans worth of thumping hearts pulsing underneath the waves. He sighed, steeling his own, he’d forgotten to expect you’d wake up, “goodnight, senior.” in a minute you groaned flipping up onto your forearms to blankly stare at him, “give it a rest ‘suki! And don’t laugh at your own joke. Don’t argue, I can hear it! Your heart picked up, you thought it was funny.” Katsuki poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He had to admit it was still funny, “alright alright, can’t help that you’re old.” he heard you flop down and flip over, “it’s a few days!” Oh, it was good to be back. “thanks for taking the couch.” “your welcome, you big baby.”

[seasidepickup]

college sucks, i just want to read, and get lost in fantasy worlds, and you’re telling me i have to keep up with the world and know what’s going on around me at all times??? let a girl LIVE

[freakrenaissance]

This entire series had me in a freaking chokehold!! Oof. So hot, & so sweet. I was afraid virgin bucky would be too soft? Noooope! Oh, that filthy mouth 🥵 & that pegging installment? Off the charts fantastic stuff... go read all the fics, you guys!!

Untouched

18+ Minors dni

Virgin college Bucky x Virgin college reader (Steve’s sister) 

A/N: Wanted to write something with both Bucky and the reader learning together, will probably add another part cause I love them. Please leave all the comments, reblog and like! <3 

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, fluff

Word count: 4.2k hehe sorry 

Also part of this AU: Tongue Twister, Date night, Tipsy 

You trudged down the hall wondering why you brother had sent you an SOS text message, stating it was an immediate emergency at 12:30 AM forcing you out of the deep sleep you were in. You opened his room door, groaning at the ridiculousness that was taking place yet again this month.

Steve and his friends were in the middle of a very important Call of Duty game and given the seriousness, they had to have both hands on the controllers at all time.

Keep reading

[tvgals]

college nerd! geto who loves reading you “bedtime stories”, rather it just be a silly book from your childhood or a book about physics.

college nerd! geto whose glasses you often push up for him when he’s too enthralled in his homework, wanting to help your boyfriend when he’s working oh so hard.

college nerd! geto who doesn’t enjoy parties, but he likes tagging along with you sometimes, seeing you let loose gets him riled up.

college nerd! geto who likes when you stroke his hair while he blurts out notes to you, always telling him what he got right and wrong, showing him you listen and care.

college nerd! geto who can’t thank you enough after you helped him pass his exam, kissing you up and down.

college nerd! geto who decides this is a good time to go down on you for the first time, shoving his fingers inside you.

college nerd! geto who can’t help but push his glasses up multiple times just so he can see your pretty face as his fingers curl up into you.

college nerd! geto who sucks on your clit gently, licking a stripe along your pussy, laying his head on your thighs so he can admire your beauty.

college nerd! geto who slips it in raw for the first time, his eyes rolling back into his head in ecstasy, caressing your cheeks.

college nerd! geto who pants and moans above you, lowering his head to touch yours, whispering on about “i love you..” “y’so perfect..” “have my kids…”

college nerd! geto who cums inside, whimpering on about “i’m sorry, i’m sorry…” while he plunges his dick even deeper, grazing his hand along your thighs.

college nerd! geto who kisses your beautiful face, complimenting how well you took him.

college nerd! geto who, after aftercare, opened his physics textbook to start studying for his next test.

[motomamita]

college!bf!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, risky sex!

college!boyfriend!könig fucking you in his room, not caring that his roommate is there. He wrapped his strong arms around you, making sure you didn't escape anywhere while one of his hands covered your mouth.

"shh, be quiet, honey." He murmurs in your ear with his hoarse voice. "You don't want him to realize what's going on here."

both of your eyes are locked on the other boy in the room, who has his back to you at his desk working on his essay, having no idea what's going on behind him. König had developed a taste for fucking you in places where both of you could be discovered, his bedroom being his favorite place.

könig's thick cock slowly entered and exited your pussy, hitting your most sensitive spot with each thrust and making you moan lightly. Your thighs were wet as were his balls, making a sticky sound every time he entered you. His roommate continued working, totally focused on his laptop despite both of you moaning.

"i'm sweating... Let me cool off." In one movement König removed the blanket that covered you both, leaving you completely exposed.

you tried to cover yourself but he held your wrists with one of his hands while the other grabbed your leg. König increased the speed of his thrusts, fucking you as if you were the only ones in the room. Without a blanket over you, the sounds of your bodies colliding could be heard clearly as well as the moans that escaped your mouth. His cock moved in and out of you at a cruel, totally pleasurable pace that made you completely forget that anyone else was there with you.

it wasn't enough for your orgasm to come, followed by König's who grunted as he filled your insides with his hot semen. When you managed to calm down you looked at the roommate who was now wearing his headphones and playing music at full volume. he had definitely heard you. oops!

[frid4y]

you always looked past that quiet boy in your classes, occasionally sparing him a glance. that was until he became your partner for a project in a random class. surprisingly, he was friendlier than his appearance. the slight, agitated face he always had gone the moment you spoke, and you learned his name was suguru.

the long nights studying in the library & putting together your project helped blossom a friendship. what you only ever saw the relationship as. sure, he was really good-looking, but he's just your friend, right? along with your hunch that he's inexperienced, it's just the vibe he gives off. he probably wouldn't know what to do if he saw a naked girl in real life. right?

wrong. so painfully wrong. what originally was hanging out in your dorm room turned into suguru thrusting into your dripping cunt from behind, his hand pushing your head down into the pillow, which is stained messily with mascara and tears.

"you gotta be quiet, baby… wouldn't want anyone to hear how much you fucking love taking my cock, would we?" you only manage to let out a muffled moan, making him let out a small hum before your head is pulled up from the pillow and his fingers grip your hair.

two sharp smacks are delivered to your ass, and your lips part to let out a strangled gasp. suguru leans forward and captures your lips in a messy kiss, the sound blending in with the harsh noises of you being fucked stupid on his dick. you can't even remember how this happened. you guys were laughing about something, and suddenly you were being split open by his cock.

you want to let out your moans so bad. desperately beg for him to fuck you harder and deeper. but he's right, you gotta be quiet, these walls are thin. the whole floor doesn't need to know how much of a slut you were. or how bad you're clawing at the sheets of your bed, whining for suguru's cock like you've been starved.

suguru's grip on your hair loosens slightly as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of your pussy enveloping his cock, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being the source of his groans and small whimpers.

your mind and body register that you're getting closer, and you're now pleading for suguru to keep going, not caring how loud you are anymore. it just feels so good, and you just can't contain your moans anymore. the louder you get, the more it spurs him on to help you cum all over his cock. the little words of encouragement, mixed in with degrading names. it was just the perfect touch to make your orgasm hit you harder than ever.

suguru rubs your hip soothingly as your body convulses after that intense climax. "you did so fucking good… but i know this pussy can give me one more, can't she? now turn over, i wanna see your pretty little face while you're being a good little cumdump."

[shouyuus]

please i BEG you to do a part two of the college roommate!vi when she says “dont wake me up this early for breakfast unless you’re offering yourself” (or however it was said) but the reader decides to try and test it and stands in the most revealing pajamas (or even subtle lingerie) and is like “would you care for some breakfast?” and gestures to herself (or whatever you wanna write!!)

18+, mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe vague continuation of this drabble

"vi...? are you up?"

you push through her bedroom door, peering around it at the vaguely vi-shaped lump of pink hair and muscle splayed over messy sheets. she lets out a soft grunt, voice scratchy as she pushes up onto her elbows.

"yeah? what's up prin -- oh... shit..." her eyebrows shoot up as you link your hands behind your back, chewing on your bottom lip, eyes cutting away shyly as you rock on the balls of your feet.

and suddenly, vi is very much awake, because there you are, framed in her doorway in the most delectable pink and white lingerie set she's ever seen -- all delicate satin and tiny bows. she gulps, her mouth dry.

"what's all this, sweet girl?"

you tug at the hem of your nearly transparent babydoll as she groans, running a hand through her hair.

"uhm... i know it's early, but --" you worry at your bottom lip before glancing shyly up at her again, "remember that one time i woke you up and you said something like 'don't wake me up this early unless you're offering yourself for breakfast' or something like that?"

vi blinks at you for a solid three seconds before she slumps back into bed with a hoarse laugh, "holy shit -- oh my god -- i did say that, didn't i?"

"mhm..."

"so now..." she sits back up with a dopey grin, patting her mattress, "you're...?" she lets her voice trail off suggestively even as you shuffle forward to slip onto her narrow bed with her. she lets out a low, appreciative moan as she looks you over, her gaze dark and hungry; she doesn't bother hiding the way they linger over your semi-exposed tits or the way her throat bobs as she reaches out to pull you into her lap.

"happy... birthday?" you say, your voice breaking slightly as her palms slide up the smooth skin of your thighs, her fingers already toying with the thin straps of the tiny little thong that's little more than three silken pieces of string connected by identical pink bows.

"mm... oh yeah. that's today, isn't it?" she says, but her voice is distracted as she leans in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone. you gasp, letting your head tip back as she mouths at your skin, running reverent hands up to the bend of your waist, hoisting you up till you're straddling her hips proper.

"y-yeah... and i th-thought -- ah -- y-you --" you let out a pitched whine as she skims her teeth along your collarbones, grinning wolfishly up at you as you tangle your fingers in her hair.

"that you'd surprise me with breakfast in bed?" she asks, hissing as she rocks you down over her, rolling your hips into hers.

"s-something like that --" you breathe out, swallowing hard as she smiles and cradles you to her, touch soft even as she trails needy kisses up the length of your neck till she reaches your lips.

"fuck -- you're so hot -- jesus --" she murmurs, peppering you in open-mouthed kisses, pressing you back till you're pinned beneath her.

"mm -- ngh -- v-violet!"

"shit," vi swears, looking down at you from beneath hooded eyes, her lips parted and pink, her fingers rucking up the thin material of your babydoll so she can tug the thin string of your thong to the side to reveal your already slick folds.

you whimper as she leans down to trail her lips along your stomach, kissing down to hover her mouth over your cunt. she looks up at you and with a teasing smirk and a wink, running a finger through your wetness to tease at your throbbing clit.

"mm -- hell yeah -- happy fuckin' birthday to me," she says, before she lowers her mouth to you and parts you with her tongue.

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

1:03am: first kiss

sukuna in the modern world, as a college student, would be such a fuckboy. that is a fact. he would have been messing around with anyone and everyone because he never held people in high regards, viewed them as pawns for his entertainment and pleasure. in and out of girls’ beds, never letting them stay in his, no cuddles, no kisses, no dates, no promises of tomorrow. he didn’t believe in love, never envied his pussy-whipped friends, never entertained the notion of being devoted to one girl.

until you.

his first real girlfriend. 

you would have been friends for a while before dating, fighting the pull between you, that sizzling tension hidden behind snarky comments and playful insults. all your friends had bets going on, agreements on who would hold out longer (you, just about), who would cave first (sukuna much to his annoyance). 

he saw some guy chatting you up at a party, hand on your waist and a sleazy smile directed at you. oh, he did not like that. not at all. the pink-haired man shoved him off with far too much strength and dragged you away, ignoring the amused stares of your friends and your confused complaints. 

there, in the blanket of the night, pinned to the side of the frat house, you banged your fist against his chest, pouting in that adorable way he had grown so fond of. perhaps that was why he always pushed your buttons so often, incessantly, and continued to do so well into your relationship. couldn’t get enough of your whining and the way you’d drag his name out like a petulant child.

"sukunaaaaaa, what the hell is wrong with you!”

he kissed you. 

the man tasted like cheap beer and nicotine, of late-night drives, basketball matches, pizza parties with the gang, of drawn-out teasing, inside jokes, prodding of sore spots and flicking of foreheads. he felt strong and sturdy under your hands as he pressed himself closer, it reminded you of the shoulder he’d begrudgingly lend you to cry on, of rough calluses of his palms as he pulled you to him in thick crowds, and that one night you never spoke about, when you had woken up in his bed after pulling an all-nighter for an exam, your face buried in his chest and his hand cradling your head. 

“you drive me crazy, y’know that?” he whispered against your lips with a frustration you never knew he felt. 

it turned out, as sukuna would reluctantly confess after hours of badgering from you, he had wanted you since the first day he met you and had loved you far longer than he ever wanted to let on. 

[lxnarphase]

being stressed and ranting about your day to satoru while your hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking him and teasing his tip so much. all he can muster up is cute whimpers and gasps and little 'uh-huh's and 'mmhm's as he tries to listen but cant because you look too pretty all grumpy and upset, thick globs of cum dribbling out of his cock pitifully as you unknowingly overstimulate him into his next orgasm.

[o4i0n]

came across a tiktok where the bride surprises the groom with her ‘spicy’ photos throughout their wedding day and all i can think of is pulling a stunt like that with nanami .. the embarrassingly bright flush that appears in red splotches below his neck that creeps up his ears; the way he blinks at the polaroids you discreetly slip into his clammy hand before he looks at you, then away again as he clears his throat to dismiss his reaction; the flustered smile that quirks up at the corner of his lips as he chuckles because the timing could not be any more perfect (for you, at least. it isn’t for him but he’d let it slide).

the pictures aren’t too explicit—god knows you’ve been more brazen in the past with your now-husband. they’re sensual, tasteful, and you know that they’re just right when kento tries to pull you away to somewhere secluded during the busy moments in between your reception since he told you that your guests can wait a few minutes. you tell him no, not yet, but not without handing him another polaroid.

even if he kind of expected it, he can never truly prepare himself when he flits his eyes down. you’re donned in lingerie that hugs your body in all the right places, and best of all, the set you’re wearing shares the same shade of blue as his signature dress shirt.

he can’t wait for the formalities to end.

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday!🌊⛴️☀️!

There was nothing more exhilarating than a long awaited summer vacation with your childhood best friends. The annual houseboat holiday with your three families. The Bakugous, Midoriyas, and L/Ns. This tradition started a long time ago when your parents were all young adults fresh out of college. In fact, the tradition started out as a lifestyle where your mothers had all decided to split the cost of a houseboat rather than dealing and living in the inflated Japanese apartments at the time. Plus, life on the water had less crime and was safer for a bunch of single women. And now it’s become a tradition for your expanding families.

And Now here you were fresh out of the college semester for the summer. A young single and educated woman just like your mothers were, and here you were. The only representative member of your family coming on the trip this year. Your parents being called for some emergency quirk training for your nephew who just inherited a quirk much like your fathers.

A 2-year old with some form of x-ray vision was definitely cause for missing a vacation. Your poor brother and sister-in-law kept you regularly posted on the terrible twos. So when your family shared the news that only you could make it everyone understood.

“Oh! Inko, darling, get up here it’s Y/N!” A familiar shout greeted you as you saw familiar figures moving around on the family houseboat. A blonde woman made a mad dash off the boat and down the wooden planks - thats when you dropped all your luggage.

You flew into her embrace, “Auntie Mitski!” “Look at you! Your Mamas little girl!” She stood back and held your arms, peering around at you every which way, “let me get a good luck at you!” With a giggle you did the routine and pushed your sunglasses up, flashing your big sparkling eyes and thick fluttering lashes.

Mitsuki let out her rackous laughter and slung and arm around your shoulders steering you to the boat, “Could still make my boy hand over his desert like when you were kids with those eyes.” you rolled your eyes gently nudging her in the ribs.

“Oh - right . . .” your aunt turned to the boat and shouted for her husband, you still in tow, it was same old, same old. You passed him on the boat as he went to grab your luggage’s mouthing your routine ‘thank you’ as he went to grab your bags and Mitsuki talked your ear off. “ - like I said in my text, the boys are probably gonna be here late tonight -“

“I just got off the phone with Izuku and he said that they were well on their way to the city by now, so they might be earlier . . .” you gasped, your auntie slipping her arm off your shoulder so you could embrace your other aunt who just came around the corner. “oh my gosh Inko you look incredible!” “She’s been working out son the weekends with Izuku. Such a dutiful son. Now she’s got that summer body back!” “oh it’s not been that big a deal,” she blubbered, “I mean look at our girl’s baby girl. You’re so gorgeous.” you pulled back as she dabbed her eyes with tissues that you know Mitsuki must have supplied to her behind your back. “But honestly, Aunt Inko you look great. Im super proud of you.” she sniffled as Mitsuki slug an arm around the both of you, “hey and you know she’s been back in the dating scene and you’re never gonna guess who she’s getting lucky with y/n.” “Mitsy!” Inko turned bright red. You gasped, “uh Aunty Inky excuse me? I haven’t heard anything about this from mom. Who is it?!” “oh I’ll let her tell the whole story herself later tonight,” Mitsuki ensured, chuckling with her best friend and daughter of her other best friend at her side, “you haven’t gotten a pedicure have you?” “nope, just as promised, I know the ritual.” ————

Then later that evening came. With your Uncle Masaru dutifully supplying y’all with snacks: charcuterie, popcorn, chocolate truffles that were to die for, and a splashing of champagne as you participated in the matriarchs first night get-together ritual; painting each others nails. . . Auntie Mitsuki raised her glass to her lips with a coy smile as she encouraged Aunty Inko to spill the tea about her recent dating life to you. The three of you flopped onto the couch. Inko inbetween the two of you brandishing a bottle of orange mandarin nail polish. She had the steadiest hand and they’d always given you the honor of going first, especially as the only daughter out of three. your freshly shaved legs were thrown over Inko’s lap with a smattering of charcuterie goodies on your plate. Meanwhile Mitsuki held onto the bowl of popcorn. “so y/n, it really all started back when Izuku started school - “

Mitsuki shoved a handful of popcorn into her friends open mouth, “ - it’s a real slow burner.” she swiped the polish over your nails, “ahem as I was saying it started back then. This dashing man who had become a teacher and mentor to Izuku at school had started coming over monthly for house checks when they had all those villains at the school. Of course I got updates from Izuku - thristy.” Mitsuki grabbed a glass from the table with a straw and held it to her mouth.

you happily crunched away on your cheese and crackers as Masaru peeked his head around the kitchen, “you ladies need more drinks?” “yes please!” You chirped as he brought you another bottle of soda. “- anyway, the school continued these meetings even when the students moved to the dorms and eventually within some time I realized he had such a interest and love for my son that I couldn’t help but wonder about the man himself. And well, then we started chatting about our life’s our interests our hobbies, everything under the sun and not just Izuku. But I was too shy and embarrassed to date a man like that. A retired hero!” Mitsuki poked the bottom of your foot with her ‘this is the good part’ face. “I mean he’s an icon! All Might. The All Might had been visiting me for two and a half years now, loved my son, and showed nothing but kindness, admiration, and respect. Well, after last summer I decided I wanted to bring some of that confidence back and so Izuku and I started walking every weekend and he helped me start a at home workout routine. Oh- He’s huge now, my Izuku! Never would have thought, but that’s what it takes to be a hero.” At this point your eyes were as big as saucers as you stared at Mitsuki for confirmation. To which she only nodded. “So you’re telling me that you two haven’t been dating this whole time?” You asked incredulously. She looked up from her lap, “What no, of course not! We’ve waited for Izuku to graduate and then for me to feel ready to be comfortable to date.” “I can’t believe this. Izuku’s been telling me that y’all have been dating since his last half of highschool!” “WHAT?!” “oh Inky you really ought to have seen it from his perspective. It was so obvious to the rest of us!” “wait what? Really?!”

Slam. The three of you barely heard anything between your playful teasing, but Masaru had heard and gone upstairs to help the last holiday guests arrive. “hey!” You shouted as popcorn flew across the air, “No fair I have zero ammunition!” you were getting pelted with popcorn. Inko in the cross fires. “Well isn’t this a delicious battle zone!” Inko giggled catching the assaulting popcorn in her mouth with a crunch. More thuds moved down the stairs.

“Oi.”

“Mom! - Mitsuki! Y/N!”

“ - already yelling without us, huh, what’s life come to?” Mitsuki vaulted off the couch to pull her son into a loving headlock, “Oh my adult brat has come home!” It’d been about two maybe three years since you’d last seen them, between graduation and training camps the last few summers consisted of your family and their parents. Now you had you admit they both looked totally grown up. And almost intimidated-ly so . . . you blinked trying to take it in. Katsuki still dressed like he had a rap album to drop. Thank ‘might he grew out of that one goth phase. Sporting a tight, really tight fitting black t-shirt and matching joggers. And Izuku wore an equally tight “Shirt” shirt with khakis. Always much more summer appropriate. The t-shirts left none of their reps to guess. None of there victories or losses unaccounted for. you blinked, you knew about these, heck you’d seen pictures of them but the different scars littering their bodies still caught you off guard. It’s nothing compared to seeing the real thing. It made it much more real. I mean it still surprises you that these two kids you’d grown up with were real heroes.

. . . until you watched Katsuki let his mom wrestle him into a noogie before throwing an arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. well, Mitsuki could wrestle just about any giant. Meanwhile, Izuku walked over to the couch and gave his mom a hug. so they were the same childhood dorks you’d grown up with. you giggled as your legs got caught between, “Hey Izuku!” He broke away from his mom, “And Y/N wow! It’s so good to see you!” You grinned opening your arms for an Izuku hug. As he pulled back he smiled sheepishly, scarred fingers gently brushing through your hair, “you’ve got popcorn.” “yeah I’m not as talented as your mom.” “oh yeah, no one can beat her at her own party tricks,” he shrugged. Your blonde childhood friend sauntered up beside the green bean. immediately the house lights were blocked out from their, still surprising, bulky pro-hero frames. “Hey n/n, good to see ya’.” you smiled up at katsuki, “nice to see you too. Hey wait - where’d you get that Kats?” In his hand was a chocolate truffle that wasn’t done yet. You could have sworn that Masaru was still whipping those up in the kitchen. Katsuki grunted, “doesn’t matter to you,” before hastily plopping the treat into his mouth and crossing his arms as he chewed, “can’t let you make that face anymore, it won’t work on me.” “Aw come on Katsuki, we’ve been waiting on those and you just got here. Plus what ever happened to ladies first?” You teased. he turned his face away, “nope, can’t make me. I won’t get you anything from the kitchen this time . . . and neither will “

Izuku already disappeared muttering to Masaru in the kitchen to fetch a tray, “she’s trapped my mother in a pedicure and she can’t even get up because her nail polish isn’t dry.” Katsuki hissed in defeat, “damn you nerd.” meanwhile the rest of you cheered thanks for Mr. Bakugou for baking and Izuku for being kind enough to help bring a batch in. “ oh my god honey these are to die for ~ !” “shut it ma’ you say that every single time he makes them.” “hey! it’s true!” “yeah, plus that’s her catchphrase sweetheart.” “and so another year, the same Bakugou family script. It’s gonna be a wonderful trip,” Inko giggled, now flanked by you and Izuku who feed her a truffle. “that it is.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

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

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

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

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

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

You: what’s up?

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

You: does he live near us?

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

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

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

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

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

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

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

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

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

Hour one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you said dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to bring it home, he thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Like who?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you know me at all.”

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

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hour three

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

Rafe snored. Loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

“Try me,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Why?” you asked.

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

Hour four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of animal was -”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

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

“Fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

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

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

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

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

Hour five

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

“How much was it?” You asked.

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

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

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

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

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

Hour seven

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

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

“Oh my god!!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“What is it?” He questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

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

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

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

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

----❄----

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

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

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

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

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

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

[dmitriene]

cw: manipulating, not sure about dubcon but might.

college nerd könig, there's nothing typical nerdy about him, no glasses, his vision is actually pretty good, so he can not hide the bright baby blue of his cornea, it's just a simple choice of his to avoid talking to others and busy himself with some projects and works that need to be done, unlike many others, those who choose to hang out all day long and condemn him.

you're sweet, not some popular girl of the whole college or your class, just a one of many that study here, but in his eyes, you are practically the center of the entire universe, because the mere fact that you pay attention to könig's being and chat with him about anything, even the topics that only he understands, is enough for him to become attached to you, basking in your attention.

you don't know about a twisted, grappling idea which scratches against the framework of his mind, forcing him to try, to take the chance to get close to you, to show others that there can also be such an adorable doll like you next to him, getting shy sweetly when he hooks his fingers against your hand or knee, or purrs a hoarse praise when you remember what he told you last time, calling you a schlaue puppe with a crooked smile.

könig get's too close, enough to be the one to hold your tiny strings, he knows that you began to communicate with him not out of pity, but out of sincere interest, and that you never whispered anything behind his back, so he treats you slowly and carefully for that, gently, whispering slipping pet names right into your ear, inviting you to spend more time together, at the evening in his dorm.

everyone that night heard your whiny, keening moans, recognized your voice when you sobbed his name through your raspy gasps and quiet squeaks, innocent requests to be more slower, leaving crescent, scarlet imprints of your nails along the expanse of his rippling back, small, uneven scars and freckles, clinging to könig while he pummels your slick, soppy pussy full.

main masterlist. quidelines.