#like i get it if i was invited to a party only to see the person i'm interested in interested in someone else i'd probably be pissed

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Depends, how much money you got?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Decorations 

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys 

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree 

 ⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m on vacation,” he protested. 

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

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

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

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

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

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

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

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

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

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

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

(to be continued)

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

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

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

[norrisainz33]

Party time || ln4

☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret

☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid

☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..

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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing

ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo

arthur_leclerc: blocked

charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?

ynleclerc: oui

alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍

charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her

ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!

user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied

scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍

ynleclerc: merci admin 😘

user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫

landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!

ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!

landonorris: y/n/n

user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2

user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that

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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up

ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!

logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes

yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!

ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭

ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩

alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl

charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]

ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]

charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]

ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]

landonorris: are costumes required for this party?

ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?

landonorris: and ya know what i hate you

ynleclerc: no you do not muppet

georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫

ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor

georgerussell63: 💀

iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting

ynleclerc: a big big baby he is

iamrebeccad: the biggest

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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!

charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?

ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore

charlesleclerc: i knew it

carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???

charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved

landonorris: where tf was my invite

charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister

landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh

alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl

charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know

arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what

charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice

arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻

iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls

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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is

carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana

charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!

carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority

charlesleclerc: 🙄

landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????

carlossainz55: what? no i did not!

landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!

carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles

landonorris: mate 😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i’m sorry

landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?

carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does

landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute

arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty

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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy

user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing

alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning

ynleclerc: i love youuuu

landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……

ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me

landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉

yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth

patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty

user16: god ur perfect

user22: screw your brothers, i want you

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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister

carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀

arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared

carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house

yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either

carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit

iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him

carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?

iamrebeccad: he is with y/n

carlossainz55: where?

iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him

carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about

iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s

alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔

carlossainz55: alex what do you know

alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now

carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out

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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY

user3: screaming y/n what is this

charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?

ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!

charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??

charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read

lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH

ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me

lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?

ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭

lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭

ynleclerc: SCREAMING

user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn

carmenmundt: baby what is this

ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up

carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??

ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new

carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems

user7: omg are you guys together???

user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol

user9: raw! next question

alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea

ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?

alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO

ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭

ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME

user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn

georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this

ynleclerc: george shut up

georgerussell63: never

user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂

[this post has been deleted by user]

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carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts

landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up

carlossainz55: are you having fun?

landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official

carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???

landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭

carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron

charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road

landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles

lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀

landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober

oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate

landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭

oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro

landonorris: bc she wanted pizza

oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her

landonorris: 😔

maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤

landonorris: i did mate 🤩

danielriccardo: and who is this?

landonorris: y/n leclerc

danielriccardo: a leclerc?!

landonorris: the leclerc yes

danielriccardo: good job kid

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨

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iamrebeccad: stunning 😭

user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n

georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw

ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you

georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘

user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand

charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?

ynleclerc: *leo made the cut

charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh

user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭

landonorris: yours you say?

ynuser: perhaps 🫣

alexandrasaintmleux: tea

user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this

user81: don’t edge us omg

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charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister

landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹

charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate

landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise

oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡

landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw

user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY

ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you

landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth

ynleclerc: lando 😭😭

user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute

alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her

landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon

alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍

user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[archangeldyke-all]

reader being jealous bc girls where hitting on plug sev at the house party

maybe some jealous sex?!

oh fuck yes

men and minors dni

it's hard for plugs to compete with dispensaries nowadays. so, since you've started dating her, you've started helping her add a little extra flare to her buisness.

you buy her cute little baggies to make deliveries in, tying ribbons around the top just for some extra fun.

you make delicious edibles, batch after batch of gooey brownies and cinnamon rolls coming out of your oven (you wearing a flouncy little pink apron sevika bought for you.)

and you always accompany sevika on her longer deliveries, keeping her company and making sure she's getting all her money.

sevika makes good money, but with your help, she's making great money.

and now it's the holidays-- the busiest time of the year for a dealer. people are desperate to relax amidst all the seasonal stress and extended family time.

sevika's been making bank.

today, the two of you were invited to an old friend's holiday party to sell. which is how you find yourself hauling crates of christmas ribbon wrapped dime bags, batches of laced christmas cookies, and a variety of chirstmas themed glass pipes into a mansion on a cold december evening.

"baby, you're gonna break one of your nails!" sevika gasps when she sees you, snatching the trays of cookies out of your hands. you chuckle.

"i'm jus' tryna help you unload."

"you don't need to help me do anything, doll. you just gotta sit inside and look pretty-- lure some customers over for us." she says with a wink. you laugh and elbow your girlfriend.

"how much are we trying to make tonight?" you ask.

sevika shrugs. "i'd be happy with a thousand." you scoff. sevika looks over at you with a smirk. "what?"

"baby, we're making more than a thousand."

"what makes you so sure?"

"have you tried my cookies?!"

sevika cackles and pulls you in for a kiss with her free arm.

as much as you love an excuse to dress up-- you hate parties. so does sevika. so, you guys set up in a dark little corner and have a few drinks while you wait for guests to arrive. sevika rolls joints and has you lick them shut. you elbow her when she starts to give you bedroom eyes. "the dj isn't even here yet, sev, you're gonna have to wait."

"i'm just lookin' at you! i can look at you as much as i want, you're my girlfriend." she says with a grin. you giggle and kiss her cheek.

sevika eats one of your cookies and moans obscenely. you roll your eyes, but your cunt throbs. she shoves half the cookie in your mouth before you can refuse. you giggle around crumbs.

by the time guests start to arrive, you're feeling ready for social interaction. you're loose on the spiked eggnog, giggly from sevika's flirtations, and your edible's just starting to kick in, making you feel chatty and sociable.

so, when a girl approaches sevika with a friendly smile and a lingering glance, it takes you a little longer than it usually would for you to realize that this bitch is flirting with sevika.

at least, you're 80% sure.

she's licked her lips like twelve times since she's come over, she's been talking to sevika for ten minutes, and she hasn't looked at you once. but you can't freak out yet, because she hasn't done anything really wrong... yet.

"so... are you interested in buying anything?" you ask.

the girl blinks over at you, then laughs and looks back at sevika. "no... but i might need a dealer in the future. could i get your number, just in case, sev?" she asks, reaching across the table and touching sevika's bicep.

your stomach lurches, and your nostrils flare. "oh, fuck no." you grumble.

sevika reaches out and clamps a strong arm around your waist, keeping you pinned to your seat. you growl. the woman across your table doesn't even notice. "'m afraid i only give my number to repeat customers. 's just a matter of security." she says.

"mmm. well maybe i could get it for a different reason?"

you might go to jail tonight.

sevika pinches your hip, and she speaks. "no, you can't. you can fuck off, actually. you've wasted my time and disrespected my girlfriend."

"you have a girlfriend?"

you have to laugh.

you rip yourself out of sevika's grip, grab one of the fat pre-rolls on the table and storm off to the patio, trying to convince yourself not to go back and do something that will get you arrested. this is a rich neighborhood. the cops will be called even if you only pull a little bit of her hair out. or bite her just a bit. or scratch her eyes with your fresh christmas themed stiletto set.

"fucking bitch!" you scream, kicking over a garden gnome. you pout a bit when his head comes off. "sorry." you say, bending over to pick him up and put his head back on. "sorry."

you get about halfway through your calm-down joint before sevika finds you.

"what're you doing out here?"

"i had ran watch the table for me."

"no, i mean, shouldn't you be with your new girlfriend?" you ask. sevika chuckles and you glare at her.

"baby." she reaches out and grabs your wrist. you let her tug you into her chest, groaning as she does. "do you really think i'd cheat on you? or are you just possessive?" she asks. you glare up at her, then pout. she grins and nods. "possessive." she decides. "i can work with that."

before you can respond, sevika's plucking the joint out of your hands, stubbing it out and pocketing it, and tugging you into the shrubbery beside the patio.

sevika pins you to a cold dark brick wall, and she shoves her mouth against yours before you can gasp. oh fuck. sevika's kissing you like she's gonna fuck you; her tongue sliding against yours, her moans low and emphatic. her hands are shoving your clothes up, the night air making you shiver and jump, her warm fingers making you melt in her hold.

"mmmph... seb--" you mumble against her. she pulls back to start sucking hickeys on your throat, her hands fondling your tits. "sevika!"

"you wan' me to stop?" she asks.

you consider the question. it's quiet out-- just the sound of your heaving breaths, some crickets, and the bushes rustling as sevika moves against you. your cunt's throbbing. before you can answer, sevika speaks again.

"i don't think you do. i think you're so fuckin' needy for me that you get stupid. you forget, don't you? forget how good i am to you? forget that i worship you?"

"i-i get jealous..." you whine.

sevika laughs and shoves a thigh between yours. "i know baby. i think it's cute. need me to remind you how much i love you?" she asks, her hand trailing up your thigh and ducking under your skirt. she fiddles with the thin band of your panties. you whimper.

"y-yes please." you whine. sevika grins, and then she shoves her hand down your panties. "f-fuck! your fingers are so big." you whine as she shoves her pointer finger inside you. she chuckles.

"you're so fuckin' wet, fuck, i love this pussy. i love you. so fuckin' cute tonight in your little christmas sweater-- y' look like a gingerbread house."

you giggle at your girlfriend's rambling, then sneak your hands up under her shirt and start scratching her back. sevika growls and bites your neck again. "fuck!" you squeak.

"shush!" sevika giggles. "fuck. can't wait to get home. gonna eat you up, my gingerbread girl."

you groan. "corny!"

sevika giggles. "whatever. i'll sit on your face, than."

"yes please." you whine.

sevika starts to work another finger inside of you, and you cum, shivering in her arms as she kisses you to muffle your moans.

"you're so fuckin' hot, baby, oh my god." sevika whines. "fuck, fuck i'm gonna be wet all fuckin' night."

"i'll take care of you, sev."

"now?" she asks, hopefully.

you giggle and kiss her. "after you make your thousand." you promise.

sevika groans and smacks your ass.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[l0v3r666]

Mc inserts x TWST characters

(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)

Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper

Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!

“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”

“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”

Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia

okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..

“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”

Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade

You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.

“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”

“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”

Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar

It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)

“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”

“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”

Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl

Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?

“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“

“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier

You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!

Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt

You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?

“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”

“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”

Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud

You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.

“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”

“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t seen the wiki yet!”

[backstage-autorin]

I will never not find it funny that although Zuko is the one I see mentioned the most often in discussions of autistic-coded characters, of the three who set off my "takes one to know one" sense on my first watchthrough of the series, he is also the one I picked up *last.*

I picked up on Iroh first when he firebent his tea while waiting to enter Ba Sing Se. The only way I can make that choice make sense is if he had some kind of sensory processing issue that prevented him from drinking tea at the wrong temperature, or if he was stressed from the trip, needed to stim, and playing around with flavors/scents/temperatures of tea was the only form of stimming he was allowed growing up, making it his default method of stimming as an adult. (If the school he attended as a child was anything like the school where Aang got in trouble for dancing in music class, it's not difficult to imagine autistic students getting in trouble for stimming). Over the years of using different scents/flavors/temperatures of tea as the one form of sensory input he was allowed to be in control of, he developed a special interest in tea. Adding the fact that caffeine is sometimes used to self-medicate ADHD, depending on the caffeine content of his teas it's possible that Iroh has inadvertently been self-medicating for undiagnosed ADHD (as far as I'm aware the vocabulary to get diagnosed doesn't exist in-universe). Overall, I headcannon Iroh as AuDHD.

Azula was the next one I picked up on, during the Beach episode. The moment that made the headcannon click was the "sharp outfit" monologue/flirtation attempt, but she also takes the "party from dusk till dawn" invitation literally and her observation about the volleyball opponent's childhood injury on the left side reminded me of my own (self-described) unhinged pattern recognition. She masks well but unfortunately for her the environment she built her mask for was extremely dysfunctional, which I think played a role in her eventual breakdown. (For a modern-day equivalent, it's not uncommon for autistic women to only get diagnosed after seeking treatment for mental health disorders.) Azula being praised/recognized as a firebending prodigy but struggling in other settings reminds me of the discourse around gifted education, the prevalence of undiagnosed neurodivergence in gifted programs, and the recognition of twice-exceptional students (students who qualify for special education and gifted education at the same time), and I would probably headcannon her as a technically twice-exceptional student whose autism went undiagnosed so on paper she's just considered "gifted" instead of "twice exceptional."

Zuko, on the other hand, flew under my radar until he practiced the "Hello, Zuko here" speech for that frog, vented to that same frog (or maybe the frog was just there while he was talking to himself) while analyzing his social interaction failure after he accidentally reveals that he hired Combustion Man, and then an episode or two later fails to make anyone laugh with the "leaf me alone, I'm bushed" joke. I sometimes rehearse social interactions beforehand, very frequently replay my conversation errors in my head, and have plenty of experience with messing up at telling jokes, so i guess seeing Zuko do the same is what it took for me to figure it out. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the reason it took me so long to pick up on Zuko being autistic is because he was masking to the best of his ability when he was trying to regain and/or maintain his father's approval and then once he switched sides he no longer felt the same need to try to pretend to be neurotypical.

There's probably a lot more I can say if I were to analyze the show through the lens of Iroh, Azula, and Zuko all being autistic but tbh those thoughts should probably be their own post instead of commentary on someone else's meme.

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 8 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

part viii (gift-wrapping)

You don’t know what the last-minute staff meeting is for, but the email looked important, so you show up outside the building’s biggest conference room on the hour, as ordered. As soon as you set foot inside, though, you know this was one you could have skipped. There are piles of gift bags and rolls of wrapping paper on every table, as well as packets of tissue paper and spools of ribbon and actual jars of confetti with scoops in them. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, someone’s written REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING.

You didn’t think your gifts were wrapped that badly. Tomura hasn’t complained. Then again, Tomura doesn’t know you’re the one leaving his gifts, so he wouldn’t know who to complain to if he had a problem. In spite of showing up on time, everybody else somehow got here before you, so you hesitate just inside the doorway, looking for an empty seat. Before you can find one, something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance over to find Twice beckoning to you. He’s sitting with Spinner, Dabi, and Tomura, and they’ve got an empty seat nearby.

A few weeks ago, you’d have found somewhere else, but you’re much more comfortable with Tomura and his friends than you were before. Seeing them outside of work at Toga’s party probably helped. Seeing them the next morning, waking up with bedhead and low-grade hangovers that could only be cured with diner food, moved them firmly from the category of scary coworkers to people you could call friends. And waking up at one end of Toga’s couch to realize that you’d spent the entire night sharing it and a blanket with Tomura moved him from Secret Santa recipient to something else.

You’re not sure what else, exactly. You’ve been keeping a close eye on him since the Secret Santa thing started, just so you could figure out good times to sneak down to the basement and leave things on his desk, but for the past few days you’ve felt different about seeing him out and about. Instead of being relieved, and using your next free second to race downstairs and plant a gift, you’ve gone to talk to him. Or you’ve stayed put wherever you were and hoped he’d come talk to you. He’s different at work than he is out of it, but now that you’ve seen him the other way, you can’t fail to see that the person who slept on the couch with you is there when he’s here, too.

Work doesn’t bring out the best in him, and work-related holiday festivities are even worse. You can hear him complaining as you make your way over. “I don’t need to learn gift-wrapping. The stuff I leave is fine.”

“No. Spinner’s gifts are fine. Yours look like you’re dropping off a sperm sample,” Dabi says. He’s organizing the pile of gift-wrapping supplies and ignoring the way Tomura swears at him. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“With everybody else here, Toga’s probably not just picking on us,” Spinner says. He spots you coming over and waves. “Hey. You got an invite, too?”

“My gift-wrapping must be worse than I thought,” you say. You drop down into the chair between Twice and Tomura. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Tomura glances quickly at you, then goes back to screwing around with a mostly-empty roll of ribbon. “You have a gift in your mailbox. I saw it when I checked mine.”

You didn’t put a gift in his mailbox today – it’s on his desk again, waiting for him whenever he gets back. You dropped it off after you saw him walk back on the way to the conference room. “I’ll look after we’re done with this. Does this happen every year?”

“No. It’s new.” Tomura scowls. “It sucks.”

“Hi everybody!” Toga’s standing on a chair at the front of the room, waving to catch the room’s attention. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s come to my attention that some of you guys don’t know how to wrap a gift to save your lives, and even though it’s the gift that counts, the way it’s presented matters, too! So for the sake of your Secret Santa recipients, we’re going to go over the basics of gift-wrapping –”

“And we’re going to practice on these,” Midoriya announces, holding up a clear plastic bin that’s full to the brim. “The gifts from the toy drive. Which we need to wrap anyway.”

“I told you we weren’t in trouble,” Spinner says to the group at large.

“No, we’re just free labor.” Tomura’s scowling worse than before. “I can’t wait to count my papercuts afterwards.”

“To help with this,” Toga continues loudly, “every table has at least one person who knows what they’re doing. Compress and Yaoyorozu will go over the basics, and then your group’s expert will help you get going.”

Where’s your table’s expert? You glance around, only to find everyone else looking at you. “We need to work quickly,” Iida announces, even louder than Toga. “It’s imperative that we get these gifts mailed this afternoon. If they’re delayed by the storm, they won’t reach their recipients in time. Do you want to be the reason why needy children go without presents this year?”

“Hey! Iida! That’s kind of harsh,” Midoriya says hastily. Dabi is snickering. “Just do your best, everybody!”

There’s a bin of toys under the table. Compress and Yaoyorozu order everybody to start with something in a box, since they’re easier to work with, but you have a bad feeling you’re the expert, and the things that are weirdly shaped are going to take longer. You take out a plastic dinosaur toy and get to work, listening with half an ear to the instructions. You don’t want to contradict anything they’re saying. It’ll slow things down, and based on the size of the toy bin, you can’t afford that.

You overhear the other supposed experts at the other table, and they seem pretty comfortable giving instructions, but you decide to keep quiet unless somebody asks you something. And somebody does. “Are girls born knowing how to gift-wrap or something?” Spinner asks, staring at the dinosaur toy you’ve successfully mummified in candy-cane wrapping paper. “How did you do that?”

“Practice, I guess?” You don’t really remember somebody teaching you. “It was probably just watching my mom.”

“Maybe you should handle all the weird-shaped shit,” Dabi says. He abandons the box he’s wrapping and starts sorting the toys in the bin. “I want to get out of here sometime this year and that’s not going to happen if you put me in charge of that.”

You nod and pick up the grotesque-looking nutcracker at the top of the pile. To your surprise, everybody else settles down to work quickly – even Tomura, who’s still scowling, and handling the wrapping paper like it might take a bite out of him. The other tables are chattering, but everybody at yours is quiet. Focused. When Midoriya swings by to pick up any wrapped gifts, he has to make two trips to collect all of them from you.

It’s not until you’re starting on the second round of presents that Tomura speaks up. “This isn’t so bad,” he says, and you almost amputate your finger in shock. “I thought it was going to be like that movie.”

“Which –” Dabi interrupts himself, then makes a weird noise. “The one where the guy’s cheating on his wife?”

“And he’s trying to get the clerk to gift-wrap that ugly necklace he bought for his mistress before his wife gets back?” That scene made you cringe. There are lots of scenes in Love Actually that make you cringe, but that one stands out. “Did he actually cheat on his wife or was he just trying to cheat?”

“He’s cheating.” Dabi measures out a huge scoop of glitter and drops it on top of the present he’s wrapping before he tapes the wrapping paper down. “My dad pulls shit exactly like that. Except he was fucking my boyfriend, not his secretary.”

You almost choke on thin air. “He – what?”

“That was ages ago,” Twice says. “They didn’t talk for like – five years. Then Dabi’s sister made them go to family therapy and now Enji makes up for it by giving Dabi money whenever he asks.”

“And when he doesn’t,” Spinner says. Dabi is making a face. “You’re better off, dude.”

“You know how Shigaraki hates Christmas? That’s how Dabi feels about Valentine’s Day,” Twice says. You probably would, too, if your dad had hooked up with your boyfriend. “If you’re still around by then, you can hang out with us. We always celebrate by maxing Enji’s credit card.”

If you’re still around by then. What does that mean? “Sounds fun,” you say, watching as Dabi adds two scoops of glitter to his next present. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“It’s there. We’re supposed to use it,” Dabi says. “The kids will get a kick out of this shit.”

“Yeah, but their parents will hate it.”

Tomura takes a scoop of glitter and pours it in the gift bag he’s been screwing around with. “It’s not about them.”

You remember who the gifts are for all at once. Kids in foster care, whose parents probably suck as a rule. They deserve to have some fun, and you’ve never met a kid who wouldn’t go crazy over a glitter bomb. When you start wrapping your next present, you add some glitter to it, too.

At some point the department heads come looking for all their employees, which is how you find out that Toga didn’t clear the meeting with anybody before she called it. Most of your table takes the opportunity to flee – Dabi first, then Twice, and Spinner after a second’s hesitation. Tomura stops halfway out of his chair when he realizes you’re not getting up. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me yet,” you say. “And there’s still a lot to do.”

You know there’s work waiting for you back at your desk, but it shouldn’t take too long, and Iida’s guilt-trip about the presents definitely got to you. You empty the rest of the toy bin onto the table and grab a box with a model train printed on the front. A chair scrapes next to you as Tomura sits back down, and he lifts the train box out of your hands. “Give me that. I can’t wrap the weird ones.”

You stare at him. You can’t help it. “What are you doing?”

“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me, either.” Tomura shrugs. “It’ll be faster if I help.”

“You hate this stuff,” you say.

“I’m not going to be the reason needy kids don’t get presents this year.” Tomura’s Iida impersonation is pretty on point, especially when he adds in Iida’s trademark hand gestures. You laugh. “And I haven’t gotten a paper cut yet. Nobody will put up with my bitching next year if I don’t get at least one.”

He says that, and it sounds like him – but somehow you don’t buy it. He’s not making eye contact, and his ears are turning sort of red, and your heart kicks up a weird, fluttery jolt. “If you want to hang out, you can just say that,” you say. “You don’t have to do – I know you hate doing this.”

“This is what you’re doing,” Tomura interrupts you. “That’s the important part.”

That one’s hard for you to parse, so hard that Tomura manages to wrap the train and start on the next gift before you can get even sort of a handle on it. And once you do, you’re not sure you want one. Tomura hates Christmas. Every Christmas thing you’ve seen him do has been done under pressure or threat, and he just got a golden opportunity to escape. Why would he give it up to hang out with you?

There’s one answer. An obvious answer. One you’d believe if it was coming from anybody but him. “I can use the help,” you admit. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Yeah.” Tomura reaches for the wrapping paper at the same time as you do, and your hands collide. You thought he’d flinch. You thought you’d flinch. But your hands stay still, poised against one another, for a long moment before Tomura draws away, his fingertips skimming the back of your hand as he goes. “Any time.”

<- part vii part ix ->

[star-hoon]

number one girl

"I'd give it all up if you told me that I'll be, the number one girl in your eyes"

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[WORK IN PROGRESS!]

PAIRING. sunghoon x fem reader (best friends-to-lovers! au)

WARNINGS. profanity, (will be updated once complete)

WORD COUNT. (will be updated once complete)

SUMMARY. you always admired your best friend sunghoon. but when did that admiration turn into something...more?

DISC. this story is entirely fiction & does not reflect any real events of the idols mentioned.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. omfg this was so cheesy

pls give me feedback, i'd love to improve my writing so any and all critique is welcomed <3

you can still remember the first day you met sunghoon.

it was the first week of the semester at university and in physics class you were partnered up with jake, the handsome austrailian student (much to the other girls' dismay). although you of course could admit jake was very charming and handsome, you saw him as a lot more than that. he was smart and always patient to give you some extra tutoring when you didn't quite understand what was taught in lecture, genuinely kind, and it was so entertaining to see him never pass up a chance to show you a new picture of his dog layla.

jake invited you to his birthday party at an arcade that also had things like escape rooms and an ice skating rink. you've never met any of jake's friends before so you really didn't know what to expect but after some drinks and games in the arcade, it wasn't too hard to ease your initial nerves around the group of strangers.

"you HAVE to see sunghoon ice skate, i swear he's more coordinated on ice than walking on the ground..." wonyoung says to you as the group walks to the ice skating rink. she was one of the girls there that you got along with really well and she was super friendly right off the bat.

"really? huh... sorry i'm really bad with names, who's sunghoon again?" you nervously laugh to her.

she points to the dark haired boy laughing with heeseung as you all get in line to get you ice skates.

"he used to compete in international ice skating competitions...almost working towards olympic level. but he decided to drop competing to focus on his studies. don't let him try to convince you he just 'skates for fun'... you'll see what i mean," she had a lingering fondness in her eyes.

you couldn't help but to wonder what wonyoung meant but you got your skates and laced them on the benches lining the rink of ice.

"before we all get in the rink, i think it's only fair sunghoon gives a little show before we all totally eat shit on this ice" jake announces to the group, everyone laughing along with him.

your gaze falls on sunghoon, noticing the faint blush on his cheeks with all the attention now on him. you see his faint smile and waving his hands, declining jake.

"oh cmon sunghoon! please! some people here haven't seen you on the ice and you've been telling me you've been dying to skate again..." sunghoon finally gave in.

"fine fine, only because it's your birthday," sunghoon jokingly rolled his eyes. everyone cheered as you all gathered along the wall of the rink. the minute sunghoon started gliding along the ice, it was like a switch flipped. you felt like the person you were watching wasn't that shy boy you briefly met a few hours ago. his aura radiated a confidence but also a sense of comfort. you could feel his emotion with every turn and twirl. you could see his visible passion and love of skating. he was smiling so wide, his fangs poked out and you couldn't help but to smile as well. it was the kind of smile you wanted to stare at forever.

he was freestyling to whatever music that was playing over the speakers of the skating rink but you could tell he didn't need choreography to shine brighter than any of the white fluorescent lights in the building. you understood what wonyoung meant, he truly looked more comfortable on ice than on the ground—and you grew more and more curious about sunghoon.

when he concluded his impromptu performance, you all applauded and jake along with the other boys entered the rink cheering sunghoon on, hugging him and ruffling his hair. you entered the rink, you heart hammering out of your chest in nervousness and anxiousness. you've never ice skated before and you already knew you would make a total fool of yourself in front of everyone.

"wonyoung, i've never ice skated before...can i hang on to you?" she chuckled at your nervousness, finding you adorable.

"of course, here hang on to my arm until you get the hang of it. we can stay near the wall" the few circles you did around the rink was less you hanging on to wonyoung and more you having a death grip on the ledge of the wall—stopping every 2 feet feeling beyond imbalanced. you let go of wonyoung making a full stop.

"i'm gonna rest for a little bit, you can go hang out with the others" you stated trying to cover your labored breath.

"are you sure?" she questioned. "yeah! go for it! i'm just gonna take a breather, i'll join you in a sec" you reassured her. she gave you her signature sweet smile and skated towards the rest of the group.

after a few moments of watching the rest of the group from afar, you attempted to skate towards the center of the ice to join the rest of the group. without knowing still how to maintain your balance and the wall no longer within arms reach, you knees completely buckle under your weight. you were pretty much bracing for impact to have your hands and knees to collide with the harsh coldness of ice at your feet. before you could even fully comprehend it, you felt a pair of arms catching you, slightly easing your fall.

"woah that was a close one. are you okay?" it was sunghoon. his face was close to yours, close enough for gaze to fall on the concerned look in his dark orbs and the mole on his cheek and nose.

"y-yeah i'm fine! t-thanks for saving me, i totally ate shit." you joked, a cold sweat running down your spine in utter embarrassment.

"no worries, thankfully i got to you in time. and don't even worry about it, being on ice takes a ton of practice." his arm still holding onto yours helping you get up. he guides you both back to the wall.

"you're really good at ice skating by the way, like crazy good" he let out a soft chuckle at your compliment blushing. you knew he probably heard that a million times before.

"thank you, it's y/n right?" you nod.

"can i ask why you quit? wonyoung told me about how you used to compete but left to focus on school," the echos of the group's chatter and laugher being background noise to your conversation.

"yeah that's the main reason. i guess that's the simple explanation i give people..." his voice trailing, as if there's more to the story. you raise your eyebrows at him, hinting at him to keep explaining.

“it got pretty lonely in all honesty. competing i mean. i made friends through skating and stuff but when i trained and performed in a competition…i was alone through it all. it made me start to dislike the sport all together…” he sighed. “…and that was really hard for me. and i decided to step down from competing and just skate as a hobby now.”

he saw your solemn expression and reassured you the best way he could. “but it’s good now. truly. i think skating in a setting like this, with friends and just having fun healed my relationship with it.” you both looked out to the group, laughing in unison seeing ni-ki chase jake excitedly.

“basically the best way i can describe it being on the ice now feels like reuniting with an old friend…” sunghoon expresses, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

“wow, i had no idea. thank you for telling me. for what it’s worth, i think you’re really brave.” you caught him tilting his head with a questioning look.

“well, i mean it takes a lot of courage to give up sometimes. especially something you put so much time and energy into…i feel like so many people think it's automatically a waste or a shame to give something up. but sometimes its just a redirection and sometimes its for the better.”

“y-yeah, exactly…” sunghoon looked at you stunned. you’re the first person to openly and fully understand his story and he didn’t even need to explain it to you his reasoning.

“i think you’re the first person who actually understands.”

you hummed in delight, smiling at him. “looks like we’ll get along pretty well”

“yeah i guess so” he smiles back.

you could feel the sincerity and warmth in his smile. it was different than the ones he gave you earlier. it was a smile you wanted to see again and again.

since that day at jake’s birthday, you and sunghoon have been inseparable. he was your best friend and you trusted him more than anyone else in the world.

he was reliable, he understood you in every way, and he accepted you even at your lowest—not judging you about your past.

you and sunghoon slept over at each other’s apartments all the time, even having each other’s a spare key.

sunghoon crashed at your place that previous night, you two pulling an all-nighter studying and your apartment being closer to campus than his. you two would sleep in each other’s bed but always staying on each other’s side—simply sleeping side by side, most of the time with your backs facing one another.

he had class earlier than you—his dreaded phone alarm going off, both of you stirring awake.

you pulled the covers over your head, groaning at the awful triggering sound of the alarm as sunghoon shut it off. he laughed quietly at your misery.

“hoon, why the fuck did you sign up for an 8am calculus class. who even voluntarily does that…”

"guess i'm a masochist," he sarcastically states, stretching and letting out a yawn. he reaches over your half-awake body, still covered by the blanket still to grab his glasses off your nightstand.

he basically puts all his body weight on top of you, borderline crushing you in the process dramatically reaching towards the table, a mischievous smirk on his face fully aware of his actions.

"hoon! ughhhh you're so annoying, you're crushing me" your voice muffled under the sheet. he laughs, amused by teasing you especially early in the morning when you're the grumpiest.

"sorry my bad" laughter still littering his voice. when you finally feel his weight off your body, you pull down the sheet from over your head.

you didn't realize sunghoon was still hovering over you, his arms on either side of your upper body. his gaze held something different in it, something you've never seen in his eyes before.

was there something in the air? were you starting to fall ill?

you and sunghoon joked around all the time and were in close proximity of each other all the time. maybe seeing each other at embarrassing moments one too many times, but this felt different.

the blue tint of the morning light peeking through your curtains illuminated his figure above you. the white tank top he always wore to sleep emphasized the contours of his defined arms, the thin silver chain adorning his collarbones reflected specs of light. and his messy hair and glasses wasn't helping your suddenly and unconsciously racing heart.

he was close. like really close. maybe too close for two people that were just friends. the air around you two felt thick and it was like you were holding your breath, maybe you were.

sunghoon slowly raised his hand, using his finger to brush a stray hair away from your face. and you swear his gaze wandered from your wide eyes to your lips. his touch lingered down to trace your jaw slightly.

he suddenly pulls away from your body, rising from the bed. he grabs his hoodie draped over your desk chair pulling it over his head and walking towards the bathroom—as if nothing had happened.

— should i continue writing?

taglist (open!): 

@laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains @luv-jungwon106 @woniebae

@gudkc @enha-stars @dimplewonie

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, comments & shares are always appreciated!!

[ravenwind-75]

A Yule Ball Date

a hcu and Jolypso fic

word count: 2258

brain count: zero (4 am yay)

beta: none

.................................................

The Yule Ball was just around the corner, and this Yule Ball would be different from any that had been held in the history of Hogwarts.

As Jaimsen had said in his invitation, it would be for all the MCs! In her excitement, she hadn’t seen in smaller letters that their partners could consist of MCs and NPCs. She’d need a date.

“Ominis darling I’m sorry but you can’t come, it’s MCs only love.” 

“It’s alright sweetness, I don’t even care much for parties. Take care of yourself and make sure the punch isn’t spiked with alcohol as I won’t be there to help keep you under control, okay?” 

“Okay, I promise I’ll be careful,” she said, hurriedly kissing him on the cheek and waving her wand to pack up her belongings. She sped out the door, shouting, “I love you!” as he shook his head at her antics, a slight smile on his lips. He hoped she would have a good time. 

On the ship from America to England, Johanna went over her plans once again. 

Get a dress ✔️

Get jewelry✔️

RSVP ✔️

Send Ale an owl ✔️

Pray he says yes- to do

She brushed up on her limited French and Spanish and tried to learn some Italian but eventually gave up, hoping the magic of the united ancient magic users would act as a translator.

The gulls shrieked above her but there was no owl in sight. She tried not to worry. You didn’t need a date to attend, did you? Maybe Ale was just busy prepping to find a suit that matched her dress. The two were close friends, he wouldn’t let her down she was sure of it. Ale was a good guy, he’d show. If he didn’t she’d would never let him live it down. He wouldn’t risk her rage, would he? 

So she uttered a brief prayer to the heavens that her owl hadn’t crashed in the icy waters and left it at that before heading to her quarters to try to get some rest, though she was too excited. 

…

Calypso watched from one of Hogwarts parapets as the many carriages, thestrals, brooms, and many other different means of travel arrived one after another in the courtyard. She felt like she could leap out of her skin and had to restrain herself from jumping off the side of the castle in her excitement. So many beautiful witches would be showing up today, and gents as well, but her eyes were set on the jewels of the ball the most. Perhaps someone’s date would bail and she’d grab her chance to sweep someone off her feet.

Sebastian had likely hoped the same when he begged to come, promising to be on his best behavior but she turned him down. 

“No Sebastian’s allowed!” she’d adamantly told him but to her chagrin she saw many Sebastian’s entering, their date’s on their arm or the other way around. Talia Everlark had one, and so did Athena Knightly and Elsie Corvin, Jean had her Sebastian, Valeria, and Anais too! 

Not that she minded seeing Sebastian but six or more Sebastian’s in one place at the same time seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. If Garreth came she didn’t know what she’d do. 

The breath of fresh air was seeing Ominis, Leander, Anne Sallow, Imelda, Nerida, and Poppy. 

Among the crowds of multi-colored hair, she caught a glimpse of one of the beauties she was longing to see the most. With a little shriek, she turned and ran down the staircase as fast as she could. 

…

“What a dramatic ass that kid has! I’m really sorry Jo, I would drag him here but he’d probably still pout and ruin it for you.” Val fumed, green eyes sparking as she pulled her into a hug. 

All the girls in the overcrowded Ravenclaw common room had turned to comfort her when she got the owl from Ale that turned her down. Rather coldly too, so unlike him. 

“What a loser!” Ellie sighed, shaking her head only to be scolded in Italian by Tori who was trying to make her hair wave just right. “Starai fermo?!” 

Tori was so mad at Ale that she was now yelling in Italian at everything. Poppy was not there to comfort her because she’d insisted that Tori had to wait to see her until the ball. Another thing that made her anxious. 

“I’m sorry!” Ellie whined when Tori tugged too hard.

“Do you have anyone else to go with?” Alyn asked worriedly. “Otherwise I wouldn’t mind if you joined me and Ominis.” 

“I heard Leander came by himself,” Matty piped up. “Perhaps you can dance with him.” 

“Nah,” Cassie said, fixing the pearl necklace around Matty’s neck. “I heard Leander’s going to try to build up the courage to ask Sebastian eventually. Better not to distract him.”

Johanna sighed. It seemed hopeless. Everyone seemed to have a date except her. If she had only read the smaller print she would have had Ominis by her side to save her from this embarrassment. She could hear his gentle laughter now when she would tell him on her return. 

“What a cretin!” Aurelie remarked, “Turning down a fine lady like yourself. This Alejandro should be ashamed. Any gentleman would still escort a friend. A lame excuse, jealousy.” 

"Honestly, Jo, it's his loss. If I were a guy, I would jump at the chance to take you to the Yule Ball." Val sighed. “Heck, even not as a guy. But I have a date.” 

Johanna managed a small smile, but deep down, the feeling of disappointment still lingered.

Just then, Tori, still muttering in Italian, paused styling Ellie’s hair and turned her attention back to Johanna. "What if you just go and have fun anyway? It’s a party, remember? Dance with whoever you like! You don’t need a date to enjoy yourself." 

"Yeah, and you might even be able to snag a dance with one of those Sebastian doppelgangers," Ellie added with a teasing grin. 

The thought made Johanna chuckle despite herself. "Right, because what I need is to get swept off my feet by a whole row of Sebastian’s!" 

"I mean, it could be a twist in the night," Matty chimed, and everyone erupted in laughter. 

“Yeah, but they all have dates. It stinks being turned down and I don’t want to feel that again.”

“Turn down who?” Calypso asked breathlessly as she finally entered the room, panting from having gone up and down so many steps of stairs to get there. 

“Jo!” Cariad bemoaned. “If Avania and I didn’t have dates we definitely would have taken this Ale bastard's place.”

Avania nodded, crossing her arms in frustration. “If only there was someone else here that was dateless. Otherwise, I might have to make it so. Oops someone vanished, oh well.” 

…

Calypso’s moment had come. 

Who said a knight in shining armor had to save a damsel in distress? Why not a best friend who has a low-key crush on the sad, brown-eyed princess?

“I don’t have a date. Johanna, would you want to go with me, as friends of course?” 

Calypso tried not to seem too eager but when Jo’s eyes lit up, flicking up to hers and a resonant yes left her lips, she grabbed her hands and danced them around the room as the other’s cheered. 

The night was saved. 

Since Jo’s purple dress did not match Calypso’s light blue Aurelie was her hero, pulling out a backup gown. “One must always have a dress you don’t care about as much as the other for near the end of the night when the date may get a bit….you know. Someone’s dress always gets ruined one way or another. It’s not my style but you may like it.” 

Blue satin, and sparkling like starlight, it was almost perfect. Except it was a lower cut than she’d normally wear. “I don’t know Aura,” Johanna bit her lip. “I’ve never worn something like this before.” 

“Why not?” Calypso asked. “It’s not like Ominis would be able to look anyway.” 

Amberlyn and Johanna gasped in horror at the joke but Val and Ellie laughed. 

“It’s true,” Val said. “Plus most of us tonight will be girls and the boys better be keeping their eyes on their dates. You’ll be fine.” 

“Alright, I’ll wear it. Thank you, Aurelie.” 

Matty quickly got to work helping Calyspo with her curls and all the other girls took turns helping Johanna and Calyspo prepare, most of them already being dressed and ready. 

By the time the doors opened all of them were dressed to the nines, yet Calyso was sure she had the prettiest date. 

…

Johanna’s nerves soon calmed when she saw more of her friends. Phillip and Odysseus, Callum, Sylvan, Riz, and Mildred, Sylvia. Julia,  Cal, Freddie, Matty, the Hayoung brothers Alvin and Alex and Damien, and Jean. The hosts Jaimsen and Florence made sure to introduce her to Evelyn, Pola, Kanan and Anika, Illai and Athena, Caelstus, Breezy, and Megara. There was also Winona (secretly), Io, Astraea, Glenn, Michael, and Vanni.  It was good to see Isobel and Raven again as well. 

Cariad practically dragged her to meet Liam. 

It was so hard to keep track of everyone with new mc’s arriving every few minutes. She eventually gave up trying to greet everyone and just hung out with her close friends or her date. 

Calypso was a very enthusiastic dancer and the girls had so much to catch up on that they were practically inseparable the whole night, laughing at inside jokes, sneaking outside to look at the stars, sneaking food to the castle cats, and whirling around the dance floor after stuffing their faces with chocolate. It was honestly a surprise Calypso’s gorgeous white curls stayed so perfect for as long as they did and that Johanna didn’t start climbing the walls when she had too much sugar. 

Eventually, though Johanna’s social battery did start to wear out and the girls retreated to the deck where they watched the giant squid wave from the lake. A shooting star shot past, leaving a burning trail of silvery light behind it. 

“Look Cal! Did you make a wish?” She said, pointing into the diamond-filled sky. 

When she turned, she saw Calypso watching her with a soft adoring gaze, her green eyes reflecting the starlight like emeralds. Her freckles stood out in the cold air on her flushed face and Johanna was struck by how pretty she was. Oh no, was the punch spiked again? 

“It wasn’t why?” Calypso asked, puzzled. 

“No reason.” Johanna blushed. 

“I did make a wish though,” Calypso nodded towards the mistletoe growing above the door frame. “Just now it depends on whether you’ll help make it come true or not.” 

Johanna ran for the next door but with a flick of her wand, every single doorway had mistletoe growing above its opening. Johanna glared at her but couldn’t help a grin from peeking. 

“You’re a sly one. You should be made a Slytherin from that move alone.” 

“Maybe I should, I know you have a weakness for them,” Calypso said with a wink before scooping up the smaller girl, and dragging her under the mistletoe as she giggled and shrieked. 

“Cal! You know I’m straight!” Johanna squirmed. 

“I know, I know, and that’s okay,” Calypso sighed, setting her down while still keeping a light grip on Jo's waist. She tenderly brushed a wave of brown hair away from Johanna's face. “But you still make my heart flutter.” Johanna's cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

Calypso turned Johanna’s face back toward her, her green eyes sparkling with mischief once more. “And that won’t stop me from flirting with you.” With that, she swooped down, nearly catching Johanna's lips, but Johanna turned just in time, leaving Calypso's lips to brush against her cheek instead.

“Calypso!” Johanna gently chided. 

Calypso just shrugged, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” 

The girls laughed together as Johanna reached up and tweaked Calypso’s nose before they were interrupted by the sound of a gentle cough behind them. 

It was Ominis and he was wearing a suit and holding a bouquet. Johanna’s eyes darted to the floor and saw that Alyn was still with her Ominis meaning…

“Love you didn’t read the small print. I am so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner but-”

“Hey, hey, hey! She’s already going to the ball with ME. Back off!” Calypso jabbed her finger in his face but he was unfazed. Johanna watched nervously.   Johanna took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Calypso, this isn’t necessary. I can dance with you both.” 

“How about neither?��� Val said, swooping in to save the day. 

And the night went on that way, Jo being passed from one group to the other leaving the two very jealous would-be dates sulking in the corner. 

Johanna would make it up to Ominis and her friend later but for now, she would dance. She was not letting jealousy ruin her night. It was because of jealousy she had originally been turned down.  Plus she didn’t need a date to have a great time. 

“After all, I’m here to meet see all my  friends,, and celebrate, right?”

 “Exactly!” Alyn agreed, giving her a little nudge. “Just have fun, and make sure to snag all the free punch you can. But be careful which one. Adelia just got here with Garreth. Keep an eye out.” 

“Thanks for the warning.” 

The end…maybe

.......................................................................................................

tag list i can remember rn:

@rene-hl-trashcan @starry-slithers @savingsallow @ps-cactus @girl-named-matty @espressoristretto-patronum @cheyplaysgames @acslytherpuff @accio-bagel @theladyofshalott1989 @sallowslove @morelikeravenbore @rypnami @anomalyaly @sailorgoon13 @superconductivebean

oh and yes @leaping-toadstool-caps

Here’s Jo and @dwightschrute11 Calypso

And her amazing art 😭

Jo’s original dress plan

HOW TO ENTER (just in case my invite isn't clear enough)

step 1- reblog!

step 2- comment which your MC's name and partner! If they are attending with an NPC, they can bring one who has already been mentioned by another person, it doesn't have to be a new one! If they are attending with another user's MC, tag that user! If they are attending with an OC, please mention their name!

e.g. [MC name] will be attending with [npc name/oc name/ @.......]

step 3- create your outfit! this is completely up for interpretation, you can draw, mod, edit, anything you'd like to do! You're all so talented in this fandom, i know you'll be able to make something awesome! Enter this outfit either via a new post, using the tag and tagging me (@leaping-toadstool-caps), or reblog this one! Everyone will get some form of fanart in return, and my I will crown a the monarch and their partner at the end (deadline is the 30th of December, please note king and queen here are used as gender neutral terms!)

step 4- HAVE FUN! This is completely relaxed, there is no pressure to enter, and above all, have fun! Maybe your MC will make some new friends too!

(hcu taglist: @accio-bagel @theladyofshalott1989 @espressoristretto-patronum @acslytherpuff @ps-cactus @sallowstallgirl @girl-named-matty @savingsallow @ravenwind-75 )

[magnagaruzenmon]

Red Nose

A Christmas gift for @leafostuff

Despite me hoping onto the Chaehyun train late I think you solidified a lot of my love for this particular idol and while our realms and ideas don’t intersect. I wish you well.

I bumped into Chaehyun while she was wandering through the throng of guests, her eyes scanning every face anxiously. It was a little odd to see her here, knowing how hard it had been for both of you since the fallout. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, which only made me feel worse for her.

“Oh, Tiger, what’s wrong?” I asked, suppressing the urge to slip away to the guesthouse for a little longer. I wasn’t exactly eager to get involved, but her expression tugged at something in me.

She startled slightly at my voice, then relaxed when she saw me. “Oh, Rexy, it’s nice to see you.” Her tone was soft, like she was trying to mask something—whether it was nerves or sadness, I couldn’t tell. “Have you seen Mikey?”

I frowned. That was the last question I wanted to answer, especially from her. “No, I haven’t,” I admitted reluctantly. “But he was invited, so he’s got to be here somewhere, right?” I tried to sound reassuring, but even I wasn’t entirely convinced.

Chaehyun nodded, though it was clear my words hadn’t done much to ease her mind. “Could you… help me look for him?” she asked hesitantly.

Internally, I groaned. Babysitting an ex at a party was not on my evening’s agenda. But there was something in her voice, a vulnerability that made it impossible to say no. “Yeah, alright,” I said with a sigh, gesturing for her to lead the way.

We wove through the crowds, her small frame darting through gaps that I had to squeeze through. Chaehyun was quiet, her eyes darting around as if you might materialize out of thin air. After ten minutes of fruitless searching, she slowed, her shoulders slumping.

“You know what, Rexy? This was a mistake,” she said quietly. The weariness in her voice made my protective streak flare up.

“No, it’s not, Tiger,” I said firmly. “Let’s look a little longer.” And then, as if the universe finally decided to cut her some slack, I spotted him across the room. “Damn it—there he is.”

Chaehyun froze, her eyes following my gaze. When she saw him, her breath hitched. You were just leaving the bathroom, looking more polished than I’d expected—maybe you were hoping to run into her too. your eyes met, and everything around them seemed to blur, the noise of the party fading into silence.

I chuckled, stepping aside. “Go get ’em, Tiger,” I said, giving her a gentle push forward. She stumbled slightly but caught herself, throwing me a quick, grateful glance before she closed the distance between the two of you.

For a moment, I watched y'all, the air between you two charged with unspoken words. And then I turned away, heading toward the guesthouse. I figured I’d earned that quiet moment now.

Chaehyun looked at you nervously, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes as if she was summoning all her courage just to speak. Finally, she said softly, “You look nice.”

You nodded, your expression neutral. “You do as well.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched between you, thick with unspoken tension. She shifted on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Then, taking a deep breath, she asked the question she dreaded but had to hear the answer to.

“Why did you storm off like that?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at her boldness. For a moment, you hesitated, weighing your words, but frustration from that day bubbled to the surface. “Hunny, you were cheating on me with Dinozen,” you said bluntly, your voice edged with a hurt you thought you’d buried.

Chaehyun blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Cheating?” she repeated, almost incredulously. Then something clicked, and her face softened as the memory came rushing back. “No, not cheating. He was helping me get you a Christmas gift.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in your expression. “Really? Prove it,” you demanded, crossing your arms.

She smiled faintly, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. “Here,” she said, holding it out to you. “Go through the texts. They’re all there.”

You took the phone warily, scrolling through the messages. What you found wasn’t what you expected. Line after line of texts between Chaehyun and Dinozen, discussing nothing but Pokémon strategies, trades, and gift ideas.

“Why do the two of you talk so much about Pokémon?” you asked, bewildered.

Chaehyun’s lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “I wanted to surprise you for Christmas by learning one of your favorite games,” she explained. “In all its forms—cards, games, whatever. Dino was helping me get a quick grasp so I didn’t look like an idiot. Also, can I just say that Pokémon is way more expensive than I thought it would be?” She sighed dramatically as if the memory of the prices alone was enough to drain her energy.

For a moment, you just stared at her, the tension in your chest loosening with every word. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing—a warm, genuine laugh that made Chaehyun’s worried expression melt into relief.

“You’re serious?” you said, still chuckling. “You went through all of this just to surprise me?”

She nodded, her cheeks pink. “I wanted to make you happy. Dino was just helping me figure it all out.”

You shook your head, the last remnants of doubt fading away. “I can’t believe I let myself think the worst,” you admitted, the weight of the misunderstanding lifting from your shoulders.

Chaehyun reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against your hand. “I should’ve explained sooner,” she said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You gave her a small smile, turning your hand to gently take hers. “And I should’ve trusted you,” you replied.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the two of you laughed together, the cracks in your relationship beginning to mend.

Chaehyun smiles as your hand finds her. "Can we go back home?" she asks softly. You notice her cherry nose and say,

"Sure Rudolph" the two of you head to your car that's covered in snow. Chaehyun ever determined hops into the driver seat and expertly navigates your way back home. When the two of you arrive. Chaehyun pounces on you excited beyond belief. You are a bit taken aback as she fervently kisses you up and down as the two of you enter your home.

"I need you," Chaehyun groans as she pushes you to the floor "NOW!" she growls as she lifts your shirt off and dives into your pants.

"Wow, the tiger really came out to play," you say before you watch Chaehyun tear into your pants.

"I HAVE NEEDED YOU FOR TWO WEEKS!!" she growls before freeing her sizable breasts from her bra and forcing you to grab onto them. As always she is delicately soft and pliant under your touch as you knead her mounds. She moans as she sinks into your cock. She groans as she begins to ride you. You moan as her walls clench you tight.

"Fuck! Did you get bigger?" she asks in the throes of pleasure, you chuckle then say,

"I think you got tighter," Chaehyun was about to scold you before you thrust into her causing you to hit her g-spot. She cums on the spot squirting all over you. When she recovers. she calms down and happily gets up. Her legs are a little wobbly but you steady her.

"let's continue this in the bedroom," she says

You smile and say, "Lead the way"

[chlmtsdoll]

omg i kinda need a fic of babysugar!reader getting corrupted by patrick alone bcs their tension is js amazing 😩 like yes pls tease her more when art and tashi is away…. god knows what happen

Loveddd writing that tension in nothing without you omg ur so right anon. What could happen when mean Patrick gets poor reader all alone ? Hmmm…

౨ৎ warnings: 18 + smut, p in v (unprotected sex), oral (m reviving), degradation kink, manipulation and heavy corruption, teasing, mentions of Art and Tashi throughout

You begged Art and Tashi every day prior to the tennis awards ceremony to let you be their plus one for the night even if it was just once. You’d never got to get as pretty as you did for them to the outer public all too often, when you had really been just their own little secret for when the cameras were away and the couple was safe at home.

So you should of known better that you, their adorned little sugar baby, would be left alone for the night — but fortunately, with the keys to their estate in New Rochelle.

Having the place all to yourself was a apart of the allowance the couple gave you when they had to attend to press conferences or tournaments they had limited space to bring you along. And you never complained when the grounds of their beautiful mansion was left to you to do anything you wanted or absolutely nothing for however long they’d be gone.

And with the silence that coursed through the place — most girls your age with the privilege would throw parties or call up friends to fuck up the gorgeous abode. But not you. You’d stay put on the couch, being as pleasant as ever. Never making a mess, and only ever watching movies if you weren’t studying for upcoming midterms.

You were so good for Art and Tashi, so much to you’d almost forgotten the words of ‘left a little surprise for you on the guest bed.. just for when we get back.” Art mentioned to you with a dotting wink and smirk to what could be waiting for you before fixing his tie to run out with his wife. Even the thought of those little gestures of how they’d spoil you, come home to play with their perfect girl, seeing you all dolled up waiting for them at home made you flustered to your core even in the empty house.

You’d been ready to run upstairs just to see what it was Art had left for you — but that being just before there was a disturbance brought to the front door.

When you got up and tucked your feet into your slippers before minding to get it, you undid all the locks on the grand door. Letting the breeze in with a swing, your eyes went wide too quickly when the brunette with a menacing grin that stood beyond you looked up from his cracked phone to eye you down just outside the doorway.

Patrick stood in the cold of the night and you couldn’t have pushed to shut the door any faster.

“Hey, hey ! What the fuck is your problem.. ?” He spat as his hand rejected the way you attempted to shut him out without even a pitch, his grip beating yours on instant as he pushed the door open wide enough for him to invite himself inside aways.

You closed your eyes with a sigh of annoyance. One thing you did know is to avoid the daring man at all cost. Weather with Art and Tashi around, or when it was just the two of you — Patrick was a man of way too many words. Always teasing, picking on you like a sworn bully just because he could. Because it was amusing to him to try and snip on the pigtails of the pretty, much younger and energetic play thing his best friends kept around. And with you being just too full of admiration of the couple and anyone who was a friend of theirs — it just stained your poor little heart what the patronizing man put you through. To have to despise his presence.

“Why are you here ?” You spoke with furrowed eyebrows, voice timid and more serious as you tried to hide behind the front door, towering you, he made his way through the floor like he owned it, letting his denim jacket slip from his arms.

“What ? The couple leave you to color or whatever you do here alone ?” He scoffed, grin on his face mocking your fuzzy cardigan you kept on your shoulders to trying making you feel small for your shorter size as always. Although There was always an obvious flirtation to his teasing — the two sidedness of Patrick being mean as way to get girls just like you to do whatever he pleased always confused you. It was alarming. Like he’d want you to feel cornered and vulnerable so he could have his true way.

However he wanted.

“Awards ceremony. Why are you here?” You repeated yourself again and shutting the door with a lock, before you turned to face Patrick already making himself as comfortable as he pleased.

“For grown up stuff, baby doll. You wouldn’t get it.” He totally means trying to hang out with Art and Tashi, or bug them to hang out with him. “You really here by yourself?”

You nodded a bit and took in the darker haired man walking towards the living area. “Yes… and I don’t need a babysitter. They aren’t here so you’re welcomed to go.”

Patrick chuckled a bit as he looked down at you over his shoulder. “Do you ever relax ? I mean, fuck... Why don’t you.. sit with me. Keep company ? Just till they get back- - I know you don’t actually wanna be all alone, do you ?”

You folded your arms, tough pout forming on your lips. You just knew how this would go by now. How it always went.

Patrick would lure you an excuse just so he could try and have a go at what Art and Tashi got from you. Which was a complete different story the man who knew nothing of boundaries had no business being apart of. But it was just in Patricks nature to have what he couldn’t. The treat you are for them. Gorgeous and full of youthful energy after big games — Tashi had you give her husband the most dutiful back massage, an intimate time that would end up with you on your back some where in the echoing mansion, as the blonde got to fuck the purest moans out of you.

And all Patrick did was yearn for that use of you. It was what he devotedly wanted behind all his gimmicks. “No thanks.” You settled for with a moment of building courage to just say that to the man. You knew he’d have some words to spew back in defense regardless.

He chuckled. “Why so tense? A movie or two won’t hurt you.. or are you just scared I’ll bite?” You notice his hand along with his words, patting his thigh once he sat leaning against the cushioned seat to send a beacon call your way, and you just batted your eyes away.

“I have better things to do.”

“Bullshit. You just want to run off and what..?” His eyes scan your figure, he chuckled. “Touch yourself till Art and Tashi get back?” The man began and with a flustered heat rising to your face, you made a putrid expression of disgust before turning away from him without another word to say, your hair swung behind you as you muttered how ignorant the brunette was and he sat pleased with himself there in the living room behind you. Your ears couldn’t even endure anymore of his objectification. And you didn’t bother shooting a text to Art and Tashi that Patrick had stopped by for whatever reason because they’d surely be knee deep in talking with tabloids and press at this hour.

So, as a way to have as little interaction with the man as you could — you continued up the stairs to the near guest room where your small but lovely left gift from Art was waiting. With a little sideways smile returning to your expression, you shut the door softly behind you so the man downstairs didn’t bother. Your fingers laced through the silky bow holding it all together. This fabricated box you unraveled to reveal the new pretty edition to your wardrobe of wondrous pieces the couple spoiled you with.

A set of lingerie all dainty you were sure you’d be quite at home in for the next couple of days just for Art to toy with, only then sharing the way your heavenly hips would fit it with his wife.

Your grin spread at just the thought of their hands on you. Praising and cooing like the sheer temptress you were. A soft “oh.. you’re getting special treatment.” softly purred through your lips as you took in the lace garment and immediately shed off your comfy clothes.

You knew how much the couple valued their privacy and especially when it came to you. Their perfect little secret for behind all the cameras and sports media. Your body ? Their choice. It was part of the agreement you made when you came into their lives to be their after match sugar baby. And you did honor and respect that in every way — but as your painted finger tips taped against your phone in thought, it crossed your mind that a few pictures in the tiny panties couldn’t hurt if you kept them to yourself.

So in just a few moments you were on the bed. Only the light colored patches of fabric over your nipples covering you up, thong stretched thin across your ass and garter strap ruffling around your thigh felt nice and familiar. You felt your prettiest like this — dolled up and with the expectation to please the star couple whenever they got home.

You reached across the bed where you left your phone and that’s when you opened up your camera app. You let your body do the natural work it’s used to — posing for your own revealing string of teasing selfies. One’s you used to take for random guys before Tashi had you be ready for a face time at any moment while they were away and you couldn’t tag along, demanding you spread your legs and show her husband what he’d get to have after a grand slam. (If he made one) thanks to you he always did.

You were placing your phone at vigorous angels as you switched poses with a sugary smile being the only detail of your face in the photo. Too unfortunate your sweet doe eyes wouldn’t make the cut. You glide your fingers with pink painted tips innocently against your bottom lip as you turned your smile into a naughty little grin soon enough to the light of the camera. You couldn’t help but let your playfulness shine through, even in the set that was simply too tiny for a good reason.

You were having a bit of fun with yourself really. And your body is one to be confident in, feeling like the adorned little thing you were — that was until your phone was being dropped automatically the second you heard “holy shit” being croaked from the door frame.

Patrick was grinning like an idiot as he watched your now mortified expression turn bashful quick. You stashed yourself underneath a corner of the covers, “Patrick- what the hell !?” He’d already been laughing as he let himself fully in the bedroom while you’d been quietly cursing to yourself with a palm to your brow. Frustrated and guilty already, you avoided making eye contact with Patrick in preparation for the week you were about to have of him miking this to patronize you.

“So you were feeling naughty, huh ?” He chuckled and one of his hands go from his jean pocket to scratch against his untamed beard that framed his haughty smirk. He inched over to were you’d gone completely flustered beneath the comforter. “Get out. Just- please..” you huffed although your voice was only as fragile as it usually was around the brooding man, you dropped your head along with your expression in shame and he only grinned a little wider.

Patrick stared at you with that smile before he made a grab and snatched up your phone before you could even jump to stop him. “Let me just take a quick check of how pretty you look before they’re turned in to Tashi and Art.” his thumb casually scroll through your exposing photos as you yelped for him to quit it, and he only kept you at a distance much too easily from his taller height.

“Give it! Patrick! It’s not funny- -” you whined as you ran in circles around the brunette and attempted countlessly to leap for your phone, but Patrick laughed on as he held it up where you just couldn’t get your legs to reach.

“Fuck I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they see their perfect little princess sneaking in nudes...”

You already had tears building in your ducts. You just knew that if Art and Tashi found out you weren’t faithful to their promises, being careless especially around such a careless man — and letting your spite lead your decisions of keeping what they gave you just between them. It could all be over in an instant. They couldn’t know what you’ve done. How poorly you acted without thinking.

You finally give up on your fight with Patrick that had really been you flailing arms at your phone as he tosses it between his hands so you couldn’t grab it. He messed with you like a toy. Patrick lived to play cat and mouse, and you’d fallen right into the trap.

“Patrick, please. Don’t do this… those pictures can’t be shown to anyone. I need my phone.” You sniff as you looked up at the dark haired man with watery eyes and he stiffed finally as did you. Course, tight grip of your phone in his larger hand. You watched as his green orbs now ran over your state — vulnerable in the pink lace that he was absolutely not supposed to be seeing you in right now.

Nearly every inch of your skin was on display, tits sitting too pretty, and the way the lines of the lingerie lined your hips, made the corners of his lips curve into a snarky grin.

You were asking him, just once, not to be an asshole.

And with a low tone, he was bound to respond like an asshole.

“I kinda like it when you beg.” The man was looking at you with eyes of the pure hunger and all you could do was close your own in defeat as you sighed.

“You really are afraid of them finding out, aren’t you?”

You nodded with your lip between your teeth. “They can’t.. you can’t tell them. This never happened, Pat. Please.”

You softly echoed again, throwing in calling him by half his name just to keep your chances sweet that he would eventually comply. The man chuckled as his eyes trailed off for just a fine moment before his expression got serious.

“So say I didn’t. If I didn’t… what’s in it for me?”

You swallowed hard. Bating your eyelashes in a moment of contemplation on what he could perhaps want from you. You hadn’t thought this far — and you didn’t have a clue.

“I- um- ..well- - what do you want?” You peered up at the man again, and this time, his stupid smirk had once again been making a comeback.

He eyed you. Your flower covered bra, with just a tiny bow in the middle. Then you again. Then of course, back down to where your smooth hidden cunt had been behind the fabric of your panties. Till his eyes finally land back on you again with a idiotic kind of smile.

You had to take a minute to wrap your head around it all. His wordless declaration until your eyebrows knitted with uproarious fear when it clicked.

“No.” You uttered.

“Well.. yeah.”

“No. Patrick… anything else- -” you pleaded as you began to sniff again and the man cut you off.

Patrick stepped a little closer to you, your pouty expression followed his gaze as you anxiously toyed with your hair and he slowly examined your frame again.

“You want these pictures to stay between you and me, right ? You don’t want your precious sugar mommy and daddy to find out about you slutting around the house when they’re away. It would make them so upset with you if they found out….” He made his tone sympathetic and only a little less poisonous, you nodded as you folded your arms timidly. “Then you’ll do what you have to do so they don’t know… yeah ?”

You nodded and listened up to his rant of your own mistakes. He caught you at a draw. The man’s green met your gaze even when he narrowed to read your doubtful head and wondering little eyes at how much you’d just been desperate to be seen as good for them. Tilting his head some, you stepped back as he stepped forward.

“I know what you want.” Patrick rose his hand to let a finger slide underneath the strap of your bra. Your wide eyes looked up at his dark curls to match his pupils. Tongue darted out to lick at his lips, he knew you’d innocently be oblivious to his hunger stride. All you could do was let him pull the strap down your shoulder just as slow as he talked.

“Good girls have to do what’s right for everyone. And I know your a good girl.” His voice grew softer, but lustful as he was now far beyond in your space.

You syncing up with his overall musk of pine scented cologne, cigarettes and numerous college girls he’d pick up in bars lingering off his sent.

You did know how dangerously he could lead, and you didn’t need to find yourself in any more trouble at last — yet something in the way the heat from his body had been melting into your senses, how his eyes made you feel like an intoxicated prey. And hands that were roaming your little figure that made you feel obligated to return in his favors.

You looked at Patrick as he leaned forward to your level only to whisper at your ear. You felt shivers like electricity from his next words.

“So get on your knees and be good for me.”

Patrick pulled away as he’d been close enough for his lips linger over your exposed skin, you trembled from just his teasing hands on your waist and voice too much for you to escape.

You eyed the floor where your feet landed, a little quiver in your throat — but a kind of lustrous flutter now taking over instead. And like that, you had been gradually lowering yourself down on both of your knees.

The man still standing above you showed his teeth with his next sideways grin, watching your hair spill back as you craned your neck to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“How do you want me?” You question, voice sweet as it always was while you’d been at such a naughty view for the brunette. He had chuckled with a little groan as he looked over your angelic grace in the garment you’d been in, all with eyes wide and not one thought behind them of knowing of all he harsh ways he could treat you.

“That set is- - something else on you, pretty girl… why don’t you suck my cock in it, hm?” with calculated intentions behind all his cooing, Patrick had already taking a swift of your hair into a nice ponytail and your eyes went trailing to the fly of his pants before you, hands shakily going to where they were intended.

You could feel the brunette’s hooded eyes on you as you began unzipping the fly, fingers tug at the hem of his boxers like you’d been too scared to touch, not ready for what’s beneath. “C’mon, don’t be shy..” his tone almost haunting. He knew he’d had you practically on strings and you did comply, taking them down just enough so his cock had been on display, hard and getting harder by the second, you stared — a little whimper escaped your tightening throat at the way his tip rose with the width of your eyes.

You glance up at Patrick’s face again, diplomat expression taking over suddenly. “You swear… none of it leaves this room?”

The man scanned the door way briefly before returning your gaze with a prideful smile. “It dies at the door.”

You breathed deeply before your hands were bracing the back of Patrick’s thighs. Knees with no cushion, already pained from the floor boards — the smooth skin of your lips were being pressed to Patrick’s thick member, leaving just one kitten lick on his reddened tip before your mouth was full of it. The brunette watched you with lips agape as he slipped your phone into his back pocket and used his other to swoop up your loose locks.

Your mouth had hallowed on his cock as you began sucking on him with as much as you could take — with how full he’d been in you orally, light moans echoing in your throat, his tip hit the back of you and Patrick cursed. “That’s it, baby doll. Nice and slow,” he watched as your lips ran up and down his foreskin, coating him in your saliva as you whimpered through your wet sucking.

Your head bobbed on him, and the man let out low groans of his own as his head let back at your heavenly warmth around him. As you looked up at him, the way he reacted to your work was enough for you to think just when you thought you’d distracted him with your pleasures, your fingers were gliding from his thighs to his back pocket. Reaching for where he stuck your phone, but your wrist was abruptly stopped and the man made a ‘tskk’ sound as he removed your hand. “Nice try angel.. I wouldn’t do that again.” He muttered before taking matters into his own hands and pumping his cock down you throat at a rougher pace. You whined helplessly and adjusted yourself so you’d sat on your own feet beneath him.

Patrick had let out a deep moan as he fucked into your more than perfect little mouth that was stuttering on just how much you needed him to keep your dirty secrets. And you, all wanting nothing to do with him earlier — now had tears streaming down your face as you whimpered and gagged on his cock. Stroke after stroke had your finger nails digging into the man’s jeans, his eyebrows hitched with his breath as he observe your teary eyes and wide mouth taking him,

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. you’re gonna make me cum.” The man grunted as you moaned and he pulled you off his dick with a knotted grip on your hair just in time as you coughed vigorously.

Wiping your puffy lips with a sniffle and eyes welled up with tears as you narrowed with a cry, Patrick grinned while he’d already been jerking his cock, “you’re doing so well for me. Now open up..” his voice husked as he pumped his throbbing cock through his orgasm, letting his tip rest on your tongue the second your mouth was wide enough to let ropes of his cum spill on to.

You didn’t feel the cleanliness, and maybe that didn’t matter, because as Patrick had been cooing praises to you while he released on your tongue, you soon realized you’d been sitting with a wet puddle of your own.

“You know, while we’re at it, I can help with that..” Patrick nodded at the way you checked yourself and your neck craned to look up at him again when you heard his voice.

“But- - Patrick, we shouldn’t.”

“The damage is already done weather you like it or not, baby doll. You can get a little fun out of this if you let yourself.”

You didn’t exactly know how to respond, with what you’d already done being far beyond a bargain but a total price to pay especially since Patrick used his power over you at best. And with the dark haired man standing there only halfway putting his ravishingly large dick away beyond you — just sitting there on the floor, nervously toying with your fingers with a ache sitting in your core. You knew that since you’d been there, letting Patrick make you cum was all you could think about now.

His smirk returned when you rose to your feet and eyed him before walking back over to the bed.

“Okay.” You uttered quietly as it was now your back turned to the taller man who followed you over like a shadow, and you knew to surrender by now.

“God you look good..” his hands examined wherever they pleased on you now. Patrick’s fingers slid from the top of your breasts to the dip of your lower back to your ass, that he squeezed tight, making a hiss escape from you. And even though you hit him in the arm and it left no damage as he grinned to himself, you still let him do it.

Maybe you were acting quite slutty.

“You said you would help me, not grope me…” you spoke up in a voice that made the man laugh at your ought to be stern.

“Well, firstly I think sweet girls like you should say please.” He beckoned as his tongue darts out to lick over his lip while he panned down at you. It may be a signal to the way his cock was beginning to stand again at the sight of your breast near getting lose within your bra from the aftermath of the way he just manhandled you.

Your eyes shift anywhere elsewhere than his gaze. “Please.”

“Please.. what ?” His hands wrapped around your neck to pull you close, and you yelped a tad, he chuckled at your annoyance, but enticing want towards him.

You looked into the mans daring eyes and going against your own rules, in desperate fashion, you begged. “Please.. make me cum, Pat.”

Patrick glanced where your panties had a darkened spot spreading, damp as he grinned before letting his hand slip beneath so he could feel the soaked parts — you immediately gasped softly as you watched where he toyed with your slit to find your folds. It was like he found where you needed most as if he’d been a pro. Observing as your lips make a fine “o” shape when his pointer and middle slid against your clit and your poor heavy eyes met his again.

“I know you loved having my cock down your throat.” He rasped with a sly smirk, you quickly grabbed his bicep. One of his fingers made it inside of you, feeling him fill you with just his thick digits had your eyes wanting to role and you hissed out a whimper immediately. But fuck that. Patrick already wanted you moaning as quick as possible.

He pushed your figure on the bed and you hit the sheets with a noise as the man hustled to get your last bit of cover up discarded. You noticed the way his cock bounced as soon as he saw your smooth cunt be revealed to him and your eyebrows furrowed when your ache grew, moaning slightly through your bitten lip.

“Patrick, please.. hurry.”

He took your legs under his grip rough as the flailed and he made sure they were as far apart as he needed to handle you, “keep these spread for me.” Was all the man said before aligning himself with your entrance and making sure your slick had covered his tip finely.

You whined as you viewed him do the work of getting himself coated with your pre-cum. Patrick couldn’t take his eyes off your pussy that just looked a little too pretty and smooth, you could tell his head was going full with need to fuck you senseless. So when he started to slide in your hole with a jarring “fuck” coming from him and you moaned out a more high pitched noise with knitted brows — you kept your hands on the back of your thighs for the brunette as he only gets halfway before he needed to readjust you and himself.

“Mmm.. you’re too big, Patrick.” Came from you as your chest slightly heaved and the brunette had a dumb grin on his face again while he looked down at how sweet you looked all spread out for him, letting him get your tight cunt after all of this. By now you’d surely forgotten about your little photos and just how much he could ruin what was between your legs at this point.

Patrick was thrusting into you with no hesitation, letting his grunts fill the room on top of your pathetic mewls as he kept your hips steady and against the thigh while you slid up and down his dick. Your hands dig into the bedsheets near your head as your lips go fully agape and your eyes are being pulled elsewhere with the euphoric sensation of Patrick’s hips slapping into your cervix, “Oh ! Oh… fuck,” you hiss as you can’t help yourself but watch the man’s shaft run against your wet walls when he grabbed hold of your wrists.

And with a impressed grin, Patrick saw your fixed gaze go from totally oblivious to just wanting to be tossed around like a whore for him.

“You gonna let Art and Tashi know how much of a good girl you were for me when they get home, right ? No issues. Just you doing whatever your told… right sweet girl ?” The man coo’d as he let up one hand from your arms to cup your chin. When your eyes met his dark ones, you’d been holding a dazed smile behind your bitten lip with a plea for him to keep going.

As he’d taken your little photoshoot to ending up deep inside your precious cunt with a few tactics of his own, your photos count on staying between you and him.

With a small nod and “uh hu” you let Patrick make you cum.

[captain-hawks]

hiii Dee!! for your holiday drabbles, maaayybeeee accidentally standing under mistletoe with Meian? 🤭

no questions asked 🎀 meian shugo x f!reader

Spending Christmas Eve with your cheating ex-fiancé is no longer an option, so a party at Atsumu's will just have to do.

1.3k — msby manager!reader, angst and fluff

It’s a little embarrassing—thinking about how you should be out for dinner with your fiancé and his parents right now. 

How you should be planning a wedding that’ll take place in the new year. 

How, instead, you’re standing in the middle of Miya Atsumu’s apartment wearing the same red dress you picked out for a very different occasion, ring finger now entirely devoid of a weight you were once familiar with for the past five months.

While the Black Jackals tried not to pry into the mortifying details of your breakup when you showed up for practice uncharacteristically late one morning two weeks ago with eyes ringed red after a sleepless night, Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu were all wholly insistent that their team manager couldn’t spend Christmas Eve alone. 

(They’d let Coach Foster off easy when he politely declined the invite to tonight’s party, but you? Not so much.)

(Bokuto’s known you since your Fukurodani days, after all, since you were a year ahead of him on the girl’s volleyball team.)

Which now finds you here, leaning against the doorway that separates the living room from the kitchen, fingers curled loosely around the sweaty neck of a bottle of beer. 

“I never liked him, ya know,” Atsumu’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

You turn to face the setter, brows raised in mock amusement. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

You met Ren a year or so after you started working for MSBY, after you’d already grown close with the team, and he got down on one knee just over six months later. 

And now—

“He never liked showin’ his face at games, that cheatin’ bastard. He probably knew we’d see it on his stupid face and pummel his ass.”

Sighing, you nod in a disconnected way, taking a swig from your bottle before placing it down on a table nearby. 

You hadn’t gotten into the rest of the details—how the marketing executive had been sleeping with his eighteen-year-old intern for the entirety of your relationship.

How he was only proposing to you to appease his father for the sake of inheriting his company.

How everything was a lie—

How—

“Atsumu.”

Something prickles along the back of your neck at the sound of Meian’s voice, his tone stern as he approaches.

Atsumu perks up. “And I bet Meian woulda really loved to beat his—”

“Bokuto’s two seconds from puking on your bed,” Meian cuts him off brusquely, sliding into the spot where the blonde was standing as he scurries off, eyes going wide in concern.

You shake your head, offering a genuine smile to the team captain and trying to ignore the long-ignored warmth that rustles in your chest as he looks at you.

“Really?”

He shakes his head, the curve of his mouth matching your own. “Nah, but I know he gets annoying when he’s drunk. And I know that’s the last thing you want to talk about right now.”

Meian has always had a way of reading you, of knowing what you need. 

And you know that, logically, it’s just something that comes naturally to him as a captain. He does it with his team all the time.

But it still does something odd to your fragile heart anyway—the way he notices you.

Bokuto’s sworn this secret (which you accidentally shared after too many drinks one night) to the grave, this stupid little crush that you have on the team captain. One that sprouted long before Ren came into the picture.

One that you were quick to pluck, to try digging out at the roots before it could blossom. 

Part of you is loath to admit that you were inclined to reciprocate Ren’s advances solely in an effort to get over these feelings. 

Feelings that came boiling right back to the surface the night after that teary-eyed practice when your phone lit up with a text from the captain.

MEIAN: I’m not going to ask about things you’re not ready to answer. MEIAN: But if you need help, a hand, or anything, let me know, and I’m there.  MEIAN: No questions asked.

Meian stayed true to his word when you subsequently texted him an address and asked him to bring his pick up truck. 

He didn’t dig for details when you swung open the door to your shared apartment with Ren and gestured at the boxes you’d packed. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know who else to call.

You didn’t know who else would let you sniffle and struggle your way through it all without prying. Without pushing. Without batting an eye when you asked if he could grab things from the closet you couldn’t bear to look back into again. 

Without asking for all of the sordid details of your fiancé’s affair that still find you dry heaving in the bathroom most nights. 

You didn’t have much, the apartment and furniture was Ren’s to begin with.

He helped you move across town back to your parents place with the promise that he’d help again when you found an apartment. 

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” you exhale, and Meian nods in understanding as you smooth your fingertips down the skirt of your dress. “But when I am…”

He waits patiently as you trail off, eyes offering a comfort that’s always been there, that feels like a balm now against the frayed edges of your rattled nerves.

“...I’d like to tell you,” you finish, nervously pinching the material’s hem. 

Meian smiles. “I’ll be here.”

And it’s then that you feel something light hit your head, and you glance around to find a plastic sprig of mistletoe rolling away on the floor. 

“Really?” you choke out a weak laugh.

You don’t immediately look up at Meian. Because while it feels almost childish, the back of your neck burns anyway with the implication behind the silly tradition. 

It wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve found yourself wondering what his lips would feel like against your own. Wondering if he’d cup the back of your head or stroke your jaw. If he’d part the seam of your lips with his tongue and run his thumb against your chin as you melt into his touch. 

Wondering what it would feel like to jump into his arms after a win, to wrap your legs around his waist, to drag your fingers through his sweaty, messy hair and laugh in a mess of tongue and teeth as someone tells you both to get a room while he presses you up against a wall—

You’re tugged away from that train of thought by the feeling of Meian’s large hand taking your own, and your eyes go wide as he lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to them.

“Rules are rules,” he shrugs, offering you a lopsided grin that has no right being that handsome under the multi-colored glow of string lights that adorns the living room.

Overcome by a fleeting surge of confidence as your heart flutters wildly in your chest, your fingers find a home curled in the collar of Meian’s button-down shirt before you can think better of it.

“Captain, I thought you followed rules to a T,” you tease in a voice that feels almost foreign on your lips.

But you’re too caught up in the moment to second guess yourself.

Meian leans in as you tug him closer, and you sway a little, steadied only by his hand as it comes to rest against your waist. Gently, featherlight—as if he’s still waiting for you to change your mind.

He quietly says, “You’re the manager here, maybe I need a refresher.”

His breath is hot as it curls against your lips in the scant space left between your faces.

Your mouth brushes against his, and you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Like this?” he murmurs, fingers curling and pressing the fabric of your dress.

“Yes,” you breathe out, and Meian’s other hand slides to the back of your head as he kisses you.

[lalavenderangel]

okay! here it is!

warnings: 18+!!! mentions of sex, murder, blood, stabbing, obsessive behavior, Nicholas himself is just honestly a warning if i’m honest, kind of angsty towards the end? and i think that’s all, if i missed anything please let me know!

word count: 4.3k

this is modern day but in this fic the Scream movie franchise doesn’t exist so the mask does not have a name is only described a little what it looks like. slightly off the movie as i wanted to give it my own twist.

this was not proofread at all so sorry for any mistakes but i do hope you enjoy it!

Ghostface!Nicholas x Reader!

(implied female but don’t believe i fully specified)

The thing about Ojai California was that it was known to be peaceful and serene, it was one of the reasons why you had moved there. Once you finished college you had decided to move there, a small town, artsy-ish and it was away from the craziness of Los Angeles. Sure, LA was nice and UCLA was an amazing college but you weren’t into that scene much at all. One of your closest friends you made in Los Angeles was, though he was truly built for that life.

You had met him at a small party out in West Hollywood, you don’t even know how you got invited but you went with your roommate at the time. You had met him while getting a drink, no not like in the movies when you pour your drink on someone and all of that, no he literally just poured your drink for you and started up a conversation. No numbers or social media was exchanged that night but anytime you and your roommate had gone out he seemed to always be there and each time you guys would talk until he finally had just asked for your number.

Now you two were attached at the hips. Your other friends would sometimes make jokes about your friendship with him, calling him obsessive and weird but you never saw it like that. Nicholas was just shy and wasn’t like the rest of your friends. All they wanted to do was party and get wasted which there was nothing wrong with that but being friends with Nicholas was like a breath of fresh air. He liked staying in and reading books and watching movies and listening to music. He also wanted to be an actor and you knew he would be a great actor one day.

“I just don’t get why you like him so much. I swear he’s got to be like a secret serial killer or something.” Your friend Alexis says.

“He’s not, stop that, none of you have even tried to get to know him. He’s a sweet guy.” You say. It was another night of being out with your friends and you had asked Nick to tag along, which of course they weren’t happy about but you didn’t care. He had excused himself to go to the bathroom and of course your friends took that as their chance to talk shit and it was pissing you off.

“You only think that because you're in love with him or some shit.” Matthew says and you roll your eyes. You weren’t in love with him but you couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him.

“Alright I think it’s best if Nick and I leave.” You say getting up and ignoring their protests. As you were heading to the bathroom you ran into Nicholas.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, noticing the look on your face.

“No not really, can we go please?” You ask him.

“Of course we can, come on.” He says, placing his hand on the bottom of your back. He looks back towards the table, seeing the way each of your friends look at him, smirking to himself as he looks away.

Nick wasn’t always like this, truly he wasn’t but when he met you, something in him snapped. He became obsessed with you. He needed you more than he needed air and he was going to have you, even if that meant killing every single one of your friends. All they wanted was for you to stay away from him but he wasn’t going to let that happen, no, you were his. They needed to go.

After Nick dropped you off back at your apartment he stayed for a bit while you guys chatted. You confessed to him about how your friends felt, apologizing profusely and reassuring him that you in no way felt the same way. He knew, he knew from the second you looked at him. You saw who Nicholas actually was, who he always was before this obsession started. You had also confessed to him that you and Matthew sort of had a thing but you were over it. He knew you were over it when he managed to hire someone to hack into your computer where he found a conversation between you and your older sister. You had told her all about him and she had been the one to point out your feelings for him. You agreed and mentioned how you were going to end the “complicated” situation you had with Matthew.

Matthew was first on his list. He was Nicholas’s competition so of course he needed to be the first to go. He also knew some things about him which made his hatred for him even worse. You and Nick had said your goodbyes and he took off back to his apartment. He set all his stuff down on the little table by his door before heading to his room to get the special voice changing device he bought to make his phone calls. He could have gone and killed him right away but where was the fun in that? He wanted to toy with Matthew, making him completely lose his mind before he killed him, it was all a part of Nicholas’s game.

He grabbed his burner phone he bought and dialed Matthew's number, bringing the phone to his ear and having a satisfied smirk on his face when Matthew answered.

“Who’s this?” He asked.

“Hello Matthew.” Nick says, his voice coming out menacing just like he had hoped for.

“What the fuck, that doesn’t tell me who you are. Prank calls died in the mid 2000's, loser. Fuck off.” The phone clicks and Nick smirks to himself, giving it a while before he calls Matthew you again. “Okay seriously who the fuck are you, quit harassing me.”

“No you listen to me you piece of shit, you’re playing my game now on my fucking time when I say stop, we’ll stop.” Nicholas snaps his patience, already weighing thin.

“Ooo am I supposed to be scared of someone on a phone? Please, have a nice night freak.” The phone clicks again making Nick clench his jaw.

“Fine you want to play this the hard way, we’ll play it the fucking hard way.” He mumbles to himself.

A few days had gone by since the initial phone calls, Nicholas was supposed to make more but he let his anger get the better of him. He had pulled up in front of Matthews apartment building around 11 o’clock, parking his car a ways down, the plates changed for safety measures. He gets out of the car and makes his way into the building completely unseen as he maneuvers around after mesmerizing every detail of the layout in this building. He knew where the cameras pointed and when they shifted. He knew what places he could walk through without being seen. The less eyes on the situation the better. He made his way to the third floor of the building, finding the door of Matthews apartment, bending down to his knees and swiftly picking the lock before letting himself in. He roams the apartment for a moment to make sure no one else was there before he makes his way to Matthew's bedroom. There he laid, fast asleep in his bed in a sleep so deep there would be no way he would wake up anytime soon, not even to what Nick was about to do to him. And maybe that was Nicks doing from earlier in the day.

Nicholas stood at the foot of the bed, head to toe in black along with a white mask, the eyes and mouth so black there was no telling who was under the mask. He walks closer before raising his hand up high with the knife shining a little in the moonlight before he lays stab after stab after stab into Matthew’s back unable to stop himself for a moment before he groans and steps back, looking at Matthew’s mangled back, a sick smile on his face as he tilts his head and watches his blood soak his bed and drip to the floor. There was a thrill to this, a thrill Nicholas never felt before, and he wanted more. He brings his hand covered with a glove and wipes the knife off before he walks out of the apartment, once again avoiding a single person. His heart was pumping as he stripped himself of his costume once he managed to make it back to his car, leaning back in his seat as he caught his breath, a sadistic smirk on his face. He grabs the mask and looks at it for a moment, seeing Matthews splattered blood covering the mask, bringing his thumb in a little and wiping some of the blood off, admiring it on his thumb in the moonlight.

“One down, only a few more to go doll, and then you will be all fucking mine and not a single person will get in my way.” He whispers, sticking his tongue out and dragging the blood onto his tongue, a chill going down his spine before sets the mask down and takes off into the night.

You groan out a little as your phone rings for a third time, realizing you can no longer avoid it as much as you tried. You reached for it, almost dropping it as you do before answering it.

“Hello?” You mumble.

“He’s dead!” You hear Alexis scream into the phone causing a chill to shoot down your spine as you sit up quickly.

“Who is?” You asked.

“Matthew! I came to his place this morning to find him dead!” She creams some more. Your ears started ringing and everything felt like it was going in slow motion as the room spun as you got out of bed. Your phone has dropped as you quickly walk over to put your shoes on, grabbing your keys and phone, hanging up as you run out into the living room. You open the door to find Nicholas on the other side, arm raised as he was about to knock.

“Hey, whoa, what's going on, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” He questions. He was right there and yet his voice sounded a million miles away. “Doll? You’re scaring me.”

“M-Matthews dead.” You breathe out.

“What? How?” His voice sounded panicked as he pulled you into his embrace.

“I don’t know, will you take me to his apartment please?” You whisper into his chest.

“Of course, come on.” He walks with you out of your apartment, arms around you tightly, helping you into his car before he gets in as well. He has to wait for you to tell him how to get there as he’s not supposed to know before he takes off, ‘missing’ a few turns here and there before he finally pulls into the complex. You don’t even wait for him to fully park before you rush out of his car, spotting Alexis right away and heading straight to her. You pull her in for a tight hug as you both cry.

“It was brutal, it wasn’t just some freak thing like breaking and entering, someone deliberately wanted to kill him. He was stabbed over thirty times they’re guessing and his back was so mangled and the wounds were so deep they went through his body as time went on. Who would do such a thing?” Alexis whispered, your stomach dropping as the mental image is painted into your mind. You hear footsteps behind you and you glance over to see a distressed Nick. Alexis saw him too and scoffed.

“Really, you brought him? He didn’t know Matthew like we did.” She says, not caring if he could hear her, in fact she hopes he did.

“I needed someone to drive me, and he was clearly coming over to see me anyway. I don’t see the issue, he knew Matthew enough, stop it.” You whispered, causing her to pull away and walk away from you. You sigh before turning to Nicholas.

“I’m sorry I should have stayed in the car. I was just so worried about you and Alexis, I can’t imagine the pain you two are feeling.” He breathes out but you shake your head and hug him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You say into his chest. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you tightly to his chest, his dark eyes locked on Alexis as she talks to police. He knew he was going to have as much fun killing her as he did Matthew, he just needed to wait for the right moment.

The town was shaken up with the murder of Matthew which meant that for a while Nicholas needed to stay low and what easier way then staying with you? It actually wasn’t even his idea, it was yours. You had told him about how for a few days you were getting creepy phone calls much like Matthew you had and your fear was skyrocketing. Did Nick do that to push you to have him stay with you? Maybe. As time had gone on and people in the town settled again thinking it truly was just some freak thing that happened to Matthew, Nick started planning his next kill. But it was hard to focus when as of the last week you were all over him, not that he minded but he wanted that rush of a murder again. He was itching to kill Alexis as she kept trying to take you away from him.

You, completely clueless to everything in Nicholas’s mind obviously, just for some reason craved him. I mean as mentioned before you always wanted him but this was not just love but lust and lots of it. Maybe it was the way he cared about you so much, or the way that he was willing to stay with you day and night to keep you safe. Or maybe it was the damn way he would come back to your apartment after a two hour gym session, tank thrown over his shoulder, his body dripping in sweat, and those soft grunts he made as he made his way to the guest room, but you were going to go for the first option on the list.

Normally you weren’t like this, you had someone to fulfill that desire but obviously that was no longer a thing. So one afternoon, when Nick walked through the door of your apartment you basically jumped him and you both ended up having sweaty, post gym sex on your kitchen floor and it sent your mind reeling. The way his strong arms held you tightly, the sounds he made, the way his hand fit so perfectly around your throat. He had a mix of praising and degrading you, the degrading taking you off guard but leaving you desperate for more. And his cock? Maybe you were being dramatic when you said this but it was truly a moment of will it fit? And man did Nick make it fit, over and over again until you were a fucked out, cock drunk mess on your kitchen floor. When he saw the way he had, it sent a pride in him knowing that he made you feel that way and he was going to be the only one to do so. He had picked you up gently and carried you to your bathroom where he gave you the best aftercare of your life. And that was it for you. Everytime he would walk through the door you guys would fuck all over your apartment until every inch was no longer left untouched.

It was as if you were addicted to him, in actually more than just a sexual manner as well. You needed him, you felt obsessed with him almost. But it would never compare to the deep feeling of his obsession with you, no he made sure to keep that at bay. Finally one night, as much as he didn’t want to, he had to stop your sexcapades.

“I’m sorry baby, I promised Samuel and Antonio I would hang with them for a couple hours tonight, oh please don’t make that face doll, you know it makes me weak. Look I promise it will only be three hours tops and when I get back I’ll eat this pretty little pussy until you’re an overstimulated little mess. Nothing in return I promise, it will be all about you, and you know how much I get pleasure from giving you pleasure. Is it a deal?” He asked with a bit of a pout.

You looked at him for a moment before you sigh and nod your head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be keeping you in all the time, I just…I’m still scared.” You whisper.

“Oh baby I know, but it will be quick and keep the door locked, I’ll take my key and just stay in your room okay?” You have those special curtains in there so not a single soul will know anyone is here alright. And you know I’ll answer your call right away alright?”

“Alright, have fun, and be safe please, I would be lost without you.” And that wasn’t a lie, you knew you would be lost without him. He smiles as he leans in and gives you a sweet yet super passionate kiss before he gets up to get ready.

He looked at the time on his phone again, he now had about 2 and a half hours left as you ended up getting your way and he fucked you a couple times to keep you happy while he went out. He was watching Alexis from across the way, his car hidden pretty well as he waited for her shift to end. He didn’t have to do the full two hours if he was honest but he wanted to drag out her death a little, he wanted to hear her scream or her life as she looked into his mask, desperate to see a hint of who was behind the mask, knowing it wouldn't matter as she would be long dead after anyway. So if she ended up seeing him, he didn’t care. As soon as her shift was over, she got into her car and drove off back to her place, Nicholas following behind about two cars. When she got to her house, a gift from her parents, he waited until she got inside, and her guard was fully down.

After a moment he got out of his car and made his way around, once again unseen as he made his way to the back where he found out she never kept her door locked. He hid in some bushes and pulled out his burner phone and called her.

“Hello?” She asked as she walked around her kitchen, getting ready to make a snack while she watched a movie.

“Hello.” Nick breathed out.

“Uh, yes?” Alexis questions after a moment of silence.

“Who is this?” Nicholas asked. Alexis looked at her phone for a second before bringing it back to her ear.

“You called me, who were you trying to reach though?” She asked as she continued walking around her kitchen mindlessly.

“What number is this?” He asked, teasing her and knowing he was pissing her off.

“Listen dipshit I don’t know what this is but I’m hanging up.” She says, about to end the call.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you’re playing my game and it doesn’t end until I say so.” Nick snaps. He knew the game was actually about to end, in fact the real game was going to be chasing her around her house before he brutally stabs her to death.

‘Fuck you.” The line cuts off and Nick goes into action, sneaking his way into the house. He stood in the perfect spot that reflected his reflection onto the window above the sink but also in the same spot where he could quickly duck and avoid her catching him if she turned around. He stood there for a moment, head tilted as he watched her every move until she finally made her way to the kitchen sink, lancing up for a moment then looking down then back up again as she gasped and turned around.

“Hello.” She called out and Nicholas shook his head. Has this bitch not seen a single scary movie? You never call out to the killer. He can hear her grab a knife, making her way around the kitchen where he waited, hidden enough for her to have to check twice to see him. Once she was close enough he grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the ground before getting on top of her, their arms wrestling around as she tried to stab him. She did manage to push him off as he allowed her, having her moment to stab him but instead she ran and Nicholas sighed. She really had her chance to slow him down and she didn’t. He got up and ran after her, her screams filling the house but not a single person outside was able to hear her. He had almost got her a couple times but she was a bit faster than he thought. Finally in a rush of adrenaline she managed to slice his thigh, making him hiss before he finally had enough. He got up and managed to get her trapped in a room where he grabbed the back of her head and smack it into a wall before throwing her down, raising his hand an stabbing her over and over again just as he did Matthew, the adrenaline of it all hitting him as he smiled wickedly as he watched her take her last breath, fear in her eyes. He stabbed her a couple more times for his own pleasure before he got up, wiping the knife with his gloved hand and leaving the scene. He would tip off the cops tomorrow, pretending to be a family member saying that they hadn’t heard from her in awhile and how that was not normal. And let them handle the rest from there.

When he got to his car he was still amped up, so he quickly rid himself of his maks and the costume, putting on the clothes he wore out before he paused, noticing the semi deep cut on his thigh.

“Fucking bitch.” He huffed, yanking his jeans on and driving back to your apartment.

When he got back it was him who jumped you this time as soon as he walked through the door, basically ripping your clothes off as he kissed you.

“Good night?” You questioned, giggling a little as he stripped you naked.

“Best fucking night ever.” He says, pulling his clothes off, about to pick you up until you gasped when you saw his thigh.

“Nicholas what happened?” Fuck, he saw it, yet he didn’t think to cover it, his high from the kill to strong.

“Huh, oh that? You know how the guys are, they get wild.” He tries to pick you up again but you wouldn’t let him.

“That looks bad, we need to get you to a hospital.” You say quickly putting your clothes back on in case, helping him pull his jeans back up before he steps back.

“It’s fine.” He breathes out, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Nick, clearly it's not, your thigh is soaked in blood.” You say and he can't help but let out a laugh, a laugh that makes you feel uneasy.

“Oh come on, it’s just a little cut now would you just fucking relax?” He normally wouldn’t be like this with you but his mindstate wasn’t fully back yet and that was his mistake. He should have waited to come back to you.

“Oh excuse me for caring about you.” You snap at him and it makes him snap.

“Care about me? Oh, I don’t think so, doll. No see if you cared about me you would have stopped being friends with Alexis and Matthew the second they kept running their mouths about me, but no, you remained their friends. You let them say all these awful things about me that were never true, barely defended me to them. And don’t get me started on the others, which I’ll handle them eventually.” He says looking at you, a dark and sinister look in his eyes. “See baby this all could have been avoided if you would have just stopped fucking talking to those low life mother fuckers but you didn’t did you? DID YOU?!” He screams in your face.

“Nicholas, you're scaring me.” You whisper as you step back from him a little, making him laugh more as he looks at you, frustrated tears filling his eyes.

“Scared of me? I’m protecting you! I did what I had to, to protect you, to make sure no one took you away from me. And now no one will.” He says pulling the knife out and pointing it at you. “And you doll, you’re going nowhere now, you’re mine forever.”

“Nick, wh-what did you do?” Your eyes well up with tears as you tremble.

“Oh baby, I killed them. But you see they left me no choice, they wanted you to stay away from me, to leave me. And like I just said, that is never happening.” He blinks back his frustrated tears as he steps closer to you, grabbing you harshly and pulling you against him, knife held to your throat. “Say it, say you’re not going anywhere.”

“Nick…” You cry out.

“SAY IT!” He screams.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You cry out.

“That’s right baby, shh it's okay, it's all okay.” His tone changes as he tosses the knife on the couch and hugs you tightly, his fingers brushing through your hair as he shushes you. “It’s just you and me now doll, just you and me forever.” “He whispers.

taglist: @nicholaschavezslut69 @blackynsupremacy

[arthurhillmastermind]

Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building , same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in the doorway of her new flat, surveying the chaos of boxes stacked high around her. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the fresh coat of paint and the potential of the space, but the overwhelming mess felt like a mountain to climb. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead.

“Okay, let’s tackle this,” she said to herself, rolling up her sleeves. Just then, the door swung open, and Chris bounded in, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Look at you, all settled in! Ready to transform this place into your streaming paradise?” he teased, dropping a box beside her with a soft thud.

“More like a war zone,” Kirstie laughed, glancing around. “But I’ll take any help I can get.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day!” Chris proclaimed dramatically, hoisting another box from the car. “You’ve got snacks, right? This is going to be a long haul.”

“Of course! But you’ll have to earn them first,” Kirstie replied, mock-seriously, as she grabbed a box of kitchen supplies and headed for the kitchen.

They worked in comfortable silence, chatting occasionally about the best placement for her gaming setup and her hopes for her new place. The more they unpacked, the more Kirstie felt the weight of change lifting. She was excited about this new chapter in her life.

As Chris headed back out to grab another load, Kirstie decided to take a break and check her phone. Just as she was scrolling through her messages, she heard footsteps approaching. She glanced up, expecting Chris, but instead, she found herself face-to-face with Arthur, Chris’s roommate.

He leaned against the door frame, a casual but undeniably confident posture. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he had an expression that was equal parts amused and disinterested. Kirstie felt her heart rate spike—not from attraction, but from annoyance.

“Hey, new neighbour,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Nice to see you’ve already made a mess of the place.”

Kirstie’s lips tightened as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s called having a life. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of lurking in your own flat.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by her retort. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little party. Are you planning to invite anyone over, or is it just you and your boxes?”

“Is there a rule that says I need to have a social event just because I moved in?” she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. “I prefer to keep my circle small, thanks.”

He chuckled softly, as if she were the punchline to a joke only he understood. “Guess you’ll have to get used to it, then. This building’s basically a reality show waiting to happen. You might want to invite the neighbours over eventually—might help with the loneliness.”

Kirstie felt irritation flare inside her, the casual condescension of his tone grating on her nerves. “You know, some people actually enjoy their own company, Arthur,” she replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Right, that’s why you’re talking to me,” he said, his smirk widening.

“Yeah, because I’m really enjoying this conversation,” Kirstie retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

At that moment, Chris re-entered the room, arms full of boxes. “Hey, Arthur! Stop flirting with Kirstie and help me out!” he called out, breaking the tension.

“Flirting? Please,” Arthur replied with a laugh, tossing Kirstie a knowing glance. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kirstie narrowed her eyes at him, but the smirk he wore only fuelled her irritation. “Thanks, Chris. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome,” she muttered under her breath.

“Anytime!” Chris grinned, oblivious to the tension simmering between them.

As Chris and Arthur moved to start unpacking more boxes, Kirstie retreated to the kitchen, shaking her head. She could already tell living next to Arthur was going to be a challenge. His sarcastic humour rubbed her the wrong way, and she had no idea how she’d cope with the constant reminder of his presence.

Once she regained her composure, Kirstie forced herself to focus on organising the kitchen. She’d show them both that she could make this place a home, even if it meant dealing with her obnoxious neighbour every step of the way.

The thought of streaming in her new setup felt invigorating, but she couldn’t shake the irritation Arthur had stirred within her. She resolved to keep her distance from him and focus on what truly mattered—her gaming and her audience.

As she organized the last few items, she could hear Arthur and Chris bantering in the background, their laughter echoing through the flat. It was a reminder that this was a new beginning, filled with challenges but also opportunities.

Kirstie took a deep breath, knowing she would find a way to navigate her new life—one sarcastic comment at a time.

After a quick unpacking session, Kirstie finally settled into her new home office, a cosy nook brimming with potential. The walls were painted a soft teal, and twinkling fairy lights were strung along the shelves filled with her favourite gaming memorabilia. A large, sleek desk sat against the window, adorned with a top-of-the-line gaming monitor, a mechanical keyboard, and a high-quality microphone positioned just right for her streams. She had gone all out for this setup, wanting her space to reflect her passion for gaming and content creation.

Plopping down into her ergonomic chair, Kirstie flicked on her laptop, the screen lighting up and casting a cool glow across her focused face. She adjusted her headset, making sure the microphone was positioned perfectly. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she logged into her game, her heart racing at the thought of sharing this experience with her growing audience. This was her first stream in the new place, and she wanted everything to go perfectly.

She glanced around the room, taking in the vibrant posters of her favourite games that adorned the walls, alongside her carefully arranged collection of plushies that had accompanied her through countless late-night gaming sessions. A neon sign above her desk flickered to life, spelling out “NO!” in bold letters—a fitting mantra for most of her live streams when a game wasn't going the way she wanted.

Today, she’d be diving into her latest gaming obsession, a thrilling adventure game that had captured her heart, and she was eager to share it with her viewers. Maybe she’d even drop a few updates about her new living situation and how it felt to have her best friend Chris living just above her.

As she adjusted her chair and readied her fingers over the keyboard, she felt a mix of excitement and apprehension wash over her. The stream would be a chance to connect with her audience in a new space, and she was determined to make it memorable. With a final deep breath, Kirstie hit the “Go Live” button, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through her as she welcomed her viewers.

“Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel! I’m super excited to share my new adventure with you all today. I just moved into a new place, and my best friend Chris, also known as ChrisMD or Christopher Michael Dixon is living right next to me, so things are bound to get interesting!”

As the chat flooded with emojis and enthusiastic greetings, she felt the comforting warmth of community wrap around her. She dove into the game, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and for the next hour, the world outside her office faded away. The game pulled her in, and she expertly navigated the challenges, sharing her thoughts and strategies with her audience.

Then, her phone buzzed on the desk, and she caught a glimpse of Chris's name lighting up the discord menu. With a grin, she accepted the call, and a moment later, Chris’s voice filled her headphones.

“Hey, Kirstie! Ready to show off your skills?” Chris's tone was upbeat, a playful tease woven through his words.

“Always,” she shot back, grinning at the camera. “But don’t get too comfortable up there, I might just win this one without any distractions.”

“Just don’t blame me if you lose!” Chris laughed, but Kirstie could already hear Arthur’s voice joining in the background.

“Yeah, Kirstie, you should really work on your gaming skills before you go live,” Arthur chimed in, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Kirstie’s eyes narrowed as she shot a glare at the doorway where Arthur stood, arms crossed, and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face. “What do you know about gaming?” she snapped back, refusing to let his presence derail her focus. “Isn’t your expertise more about how to flex for the camera?”

“Please, at least I’m not just sitting here hoping my setup distracts from my lack of talent,” he retorted, leaning casually against the wall as if this was all just a game to him.

She could feel irritation bubbling inside her. “And what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be out making a TikTok or something?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. “Funny you say that; I was just trying to figure out how to film your fail during this stream. It should be good for at least a few hundred thousand views.”

Kirstie's heart raced—not just from the game but from the challenge he posed. “You just wait, Arthur. I’ll show you what I’m made of,” she shot back, her determination refocusing her energy.

“You’re made of cringe. That's all you do, make people cringe” he retorts.

Kirstie’s smile faltered for just a moment. What an ass, she thought, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her cool. “Right, because you’re the expert on not being cringe,” she shot back, the heat creeping up her neck. “At least I’m not just sitting here flexing my non-existent biceps for views.”

“Hey, at least my views aren’t just because my tits are out,” he retorted, and Kirstie felt her cheeks flush with anger. The chat erupted, a mix of laughter and shock, but all she could focus on was the annoyance bubbling within her.

Kirstie took a deep breath, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she shot a glare towards her screen, where Chris had just emerged with Arthur, their laughter spilling into her stream like an unwanted guest. Arthur leaned in the background against the wall, arms crossed, and a smirk plastered across his face, the very image of annoyance wrapped in confidence. She felt her irritation rise like steam from a boiling kettle.

——————————————————-

ITS HERE! finally im so excited for you guys to read. the hashtag to follow is anyonebutyoufic and it’ll find all chapters!

i would like to thank everyone who helped with this, you know who you are and i love you🫶🏼

Enjoy - ArthurHillMastermind

[possiblyunhinged]

In the past year, especially with the recent elections across Europe and in the US, it’s become blazingly clear that regardless of your political leanings, everyone is fucking fed up to the nines. You can see it in our attitudes towards traditional media and government. Sure, we land on different conclusions about what might get us out of this mess, but the reality is—it’s not in our hands. It probably never has been.

The Luigi Mangione situation has truly blown my head off my shoulders—the sheer arrogance and disconnect from normal people that traditional media and government officials have shown. Take the Mayor of New York, for instance. Sweet Jesus. He’s like a character from a shit pantomime. Whether you’re on the left or the right, he’s the villain of the piece. People are done. And let’s be real, it’s only going to get worse—because I’m a positive princess like that.

Trump isn’t going to magically make prices drop; he’s literally said as much. I can’t fathom a single politician who could genuinely make a difference when the CEOs already hold all the power. Musk and his ilk were invited to the table long ago, and let’s not forget the donors—pouring huge amounts of money into all political parties. It’s a silent agreement: their influence comes first, their profits are prioritised, and the rest of us are left to scrape by.

What gets me is how people still talk about “the rich” like it’s actors and musicians pulling the strings. Sure, they’re rolling in it, and the entertainment industry has plenty of rot, but compared to the wealth of CEOs? Negligible. The real bastards are the ones we couldn’t even name. The ones cutting corners, exploiting workers, and choking the planet with plastic while pocketing the profits.

Meanwhile, the entertainment industry puts on this Truman Show pantomime—a performance of accountability so we can cheer and boo. Every public takedown, every cancellation, every PR scandal—it’s all theatre designed to make us believe the system works. And while we’re caught up in the spectacle, what the fuck are the people at the top of the means of production doing? Bumping up their profit margins and giving themselves bonuses.

These people live without consequences. And when the internet (rightly or wrongfully) memed the murder of a CEO, they responded with Gotham-level theatrics to reassure their donors that they’ll always protect their own. They even tried to pin terrorism charges on a man whose frustrations most normal people can empathise with.

Why is it that those in power are never arsed about creating a spectacle of a CEO in handcuffs, dragged out for decades of exploitation? Because the system doesn’t just protect them—it is them.

At this point, the only thing these people are achieving is making everyone angrier. And the politicians we like? They’re the ones who seem to reflect the nonstop screaming going on in our heads. The incompetence, the lack of solutions, the sheer disregard for normal lives—it’s all making tensions worse. And it’s going to blow up in their faces. (Not literally—calm down, loves.)

I know I sound like David Icke, okay? But sincerely, I’m fed up and I would love nothing more than a shred of accountability for billionaires—and for politicians and journalists alike to do their fucking jobs.

It’s embarrassing.

[loulou-land]

"Mistle-Nope (But Maybe Yes)”

🎄 My bucktommy Christmas fic is here! Story time: I was bored last week at work and scrolling through insta when I came across this post. I immediately thought "Ah yes! that's Bucktommy and Eddie” lol. And so, this story was born 😂 I hope you all enjoy it! I loved writing it (even if I struggled with it at times). 🎄

Gen | 3.1K words | bucktommy | Post-Break Up, Getting Back Together, Crack Treated Seriously, Multi-POV, Mistletoe Shenanigans

read on ao3 or below the cut

This year’s Christmas party was taking place at Bobby and Athena’s new house. They’d wanted to celebrate the start of this new chapter in their lives, and inviting everyone over for Christmas dinner seemed like the perfect time. As a result, they went all out with the decorations. Warm lights draped across every available surface, and a tall tree, decked out in ornaments that looked like they came straight out of a catalog, took over a large part of the living room. A drink station in the room’s corner featured wine, warm apple cider, and hot chocolate. From the kitchen wafted the unmistakable scent of various baked goods–apple pie, red velvet cake, gingerbread and sugar cookies–completely overtaking the orange glazed ham that Bobby had prepared. And sprigs of mistletoe hung above all the doorways. 

The 118, along with their partners and children, spread out through the house, and while the general mood was festive, there was a particular sense of tension coming from two of their guests. 

Buck stood by the kitchen counter, focusing intently on finishing the decorative touches on the sugar cookies, glancing up now and then surreptitiously across the room. By the drinks station stood Tommy, swirling his wine and staring into his glass as if it held the answers to all his life’s problems.   

If anyone asked, Buck was fine. Totally fine. When Bobby had approached him about inviting Tommy to the Christmas party, he’d only hesitated for a moment. He could handle any awkwardness that might arise between them–after all, they’d already crossed paths during a few calls. And despite the hurt Buck sometimes still felt, he didn't want Tommy to spend Christmas alone. If he’d gone a little overboard with the baking at the thought of spending the holiday with the man who’d broken his heart– well that was entirely Buck’s business. Bobby and Athena had gotten a delicious spread of desserts, so they knew not to bring up the subject to him. Although they kept sending concerned glances his way when they thought he wasn't looking.  

There was one thing Buck hadn't counted on, however. That was, how overwhelmed he'd feel, suddenly being so much closer to Tommy than he'd had the chance to be in months. He thought he had finally made his peace with the breakup, had stopped wondering why, and had tried to move on. But being here together like this–it only reminded him that what they'd had between them still felt unfinished, lingering like an itch he couldn't scratch. 

Unfortunately for Buck, everyone else at the party had noticed too. 

———————————————————

“They’re killing me,” Hen muttered from her spot by the fireplace. 

“Excruciating,” Chimney agreed, reaching to steal a cookie off the dessert tray atop the coffee table. “Did you see that? Tommy glanced over at Buck four times in the last minute. And Buck’s looked back twice.” 

Hen snorted, giving him an incredulous look. “You’re counting their glances?” 

Chimney shrugged. “What? I’m a details guy. Also, it’s driving me crazy.” 

Hen raised her eyebrow. “You’re the one who absolutely insisted he needed to be invited. How’d you get Bobby to do it anyways?” 

“I have my ways,” he said, looking around shiftily. “And, I thought it’d help!” Chimney said defensively. “You know, finally getting them together in one place, no emergencies or other duties as an excuse. I thought they'd finally get to talking.” He shrugged, “Maybe spark some reconciliation. Come on! They belong together.” 

“Mhm. And how’s that working out for you?” 

Chimney groaned, rubbing his face. “It’s like watching the world’s most bizarre mating dance, they keep fluffing their feathers at each other and then running in the opposite direction” 

“You two are ridiculous,” Eddie muttered, finally joining the conversation. 

“Oh, we’re ridiculous?” Chimney scoffed. “Eddie, you’ve been staring at them like they’re the main couple in your favorite Telenovela.” 

Eddie didn't deny it. He had also noticed how Buck and Tommy’s eyes kept gravitating towards each other. How Buck would go over to refill his drink, brushing up against Tommy in the process. And how Tommy would look like he wanted to say something, but always stopped himself at the last second. Looking at them, it was obvious how much they still cared for one another, the problem was–neither of them would make the first move to fix it. 

“They’re idiots,” Eddie muttered. Buck was like a brother and Tommy was a really good friend, which is why it made this whole situation frustrating. The two of them needed to get their heads out of their asses and just talk to each other. Being apart clearly wasn't working for them. Buck still had his crazy baking binges whenever he particularly missed Tommy. And Tommy–well he kicked Eddie's ass onto the Muay Thai mats one too many times. They needed to mend this before his body was taken out of commission. Death by baked goods or combat sports, he shuddered at the thought. He was really starting to regret keeping Buck from texting Tommy a month ago. 

“Big, lovable idiots,” Hen agreed. “So what are we gonna do about it?” 

Chimney grinned, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small sprig of mistletoe. “I brought reinforcements.” 

Eddie frowned. “Seriously? How is that going to help” 

“Oh come on,” Chimney said, moving the mistletoe in his hand. “It’s Christmas. A little mistletoe magic never hurt anybody.”

Hen folded her arms. “I think your plan’s in trouble already. Buck’s been avoiding every doorway like it’s a hazard zone.” 

“And Tommy’s all but taken residence in front of that drink station. Plus I think he’d just leave if he figured out what we were up to.” Chimney sighed disappointingly.

Eddie groaned, watching as Buck and Tommy, still on opposite sides of the room, once again glanced at each other when they thought no one was looking. It was infuriating. 

“You know what?” Eddie said, standing up straighter. “Give me that thing.”

Chimney blinked in confusion. “What?” 

“The mistletoe.” Eddie snatched it from Chimney’s hand. 

Hen raised an eyebrow. “What’s your plan?” 

Eddie scowled. “I don’t have one. I’m improvising.”  ———————————————————

At the kitchen island, Buck was cutting the apple pie and setting the pieces onto plates when he sensed someone approaching. He glanced up–and there was Tommy, trying to stealthily grab a piece of cake. 

“Uh, hey,” Tommy said sheepishly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that special way of his.  

Buck froze in panic for half a second before schooling his expression into something neutral. “H–Hey”

The air between them was awkward–slightly charged with an undercurrent of tension and things left unsaid. Buck didn’t know how to shake the feeling. 

“You having fun?” Tommy asked. 

“Uh y–yeah, definitely,”Buck lied, nodding like a bobble head. Jeez, pull yourself together, he thought. “Great party, Lots of, uh, desserts!” 

Tommy gave him a look, and Buck hated that Tommy could still see through him so easily. 

“Good, I’m glad,” Tommy replied, voice a little tight. 

Before Buck could continue blabbing and making a fool of himself, Eddie appeared out of nowhere, looking far too determined for Buck’s comfort. 

“Alright,” Eddie said, interrupting whatever awkward moment the two were having. Eddie was happy they were finally talking, but he was on a mission now. 

Both Buck and Tommy blinked at him in confusion. 

“Eddie,” Buck  started, “what–”

Eddie raised his arm, holding up the sprig of mistletoe like it was a declaration of war. “You’re under it.” 

Tommy squinted, “What?” 

“You’re under the mistletoe," Eddie repeated, deadpan. 

“You’re holding it,” Tommy frowned. 

“It doesn't matter,” Eddie said stubbornly, slightly shaking the mistletoe over them. “Still counts.” 

Buck scoffed at him. “That’s not how mistletoe works, man. And you can’t just go holding it up above people's heads, it’s–”

“Shut up and kiss,” Eddie cut in, face blank and his voice completely flat. 

Tommy turned to Buck, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “Is he serious right now?” 

Eddie, once again wiggled the mistletoe above their heads. “Yes, now kiss.”  

For a moment, neither of them moved. The room had gone so quiet, you could hear a pin drop—Hen and Chimney watched with barely restrained glee, Athena peeked out from the hallway, Bobby pretended he wasn't paying attention and Maddie was trying to sneakily record the moment. 

Buck huffed a small laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You know what? Fine.”

Tommy looked at him surprised. “Fine?” 

“Yeah, fine,” Buck repeated, turning to face him. His voice was quieter, softer when he added, “It’s Christmas, right?” He hated how desperate he sounded, how much he actually wanted to feel Tommy’s lips on his. One more time, even if—he never recovered from this again. 

Tommy’s brow furrowed. He looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Buck’s eyes made him stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and exhaled a quiet laugh. The butterflies in Buck’s stomach multiplied at the sound of it; he had really missed Tommy’s laugh.  

“Alright,” Tommy said, stepping closer. 

And then it happened. 

The kiss started tentatively—hesitant, careful—but somewhere between the first touch and the way Tommy’s thumb brushed under his chin, so reminiscent of their first kiss forever ago, it deepened. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, but Buck and Tommy didn’t seem to notice. Now that they’d had a taste of each other again, they had no plans of stopping anytime soon.   

———————————————————

The cheers had grown louder—Chimney was whooping like he’d just won the lottery, Karen and Hen were clapping and murmuring to each other, Athena was just shaking her head at the theatrics while Bobby looked on proudly, and Maddie looked entirely too satisfied with her phone.  

Eddie, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, mistletoe still held awkwardly over Buck and Tommy, staring at the unfolding scene in front of him. 

“O…okay,” he muttered under his breath. “That worked a little too well” 

Eddie admitted he hadn't thought farther than getting these two to face their feelings for each other. At most, he was expecting an awkward peck and them finally talking things out. He should’ve known better–this was Buck and Tommy, the two had been notorious for never being able to keep their hands off one another. 

He stood regretting all his life choices and wondering why he was still watching his best friends make out in front of him when suddenly–he heard one of them moan and that was it. “Nope, nu-uh.” 

He chucked the mistletoe behind him, ignoring Chim’s oof and weak protest. 

“Alright, mistletoe’s gone. Please, for the love of god and everyone's eyes tonight—get a room” Eddie pleaded. 

“Not one of ours,” Athena interjected dryly. 

That seemed to finally snap the couple back to reality, Tommy and Buck ended the kiss–both blushing and breathless, but staring at each other like they’d just discovered the meaning of life. 

The look between them lingered, something unspoken but heavy passing in the air–a shared understanding and quite possibly a first step towards fixing what had once been broken between them. 

“Want to get some fresh air?” Tommy softly asked Buck. 

“Ye…Yeah,” Buck answered happily, ducking his head shyly. 

Buck and Tommy turned to Eddie. They both beamed at him and excused themselves–Tommy setting his hand on Buck’s lower back and leading him outside. Eddie shook his head fondly, finally happy his friends had come together. Though he couldn’t quite believe he had to be the catalyst for it. 

“Nice Work, Cupid,” Chimney said, elbowing him. 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie muttered, glaring at the mistletoe clutched in Chim’s hand. “Also, different Holiday” 

“It looks like you solved the problem,” Hen added.

“I just gently pushed things along. And now, I need a drink for my troubles,” Eddie said, already looking towards the drink station like the world’s thirstiest man.

“Oh, come on man,” Chimney said excitedly. “You know what you’ve just done?” he asked dramatically, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “You’ve given us a Christmas miracle!” 

Eddie just rolled his eyes and walked away to get his drink. 

As he walked away, Chimney turned to Hen smirking. “I give them two weeks before they’re back together officially.” 

Athena, from the kitchen yelled “One week!” 

“Three days,” Bobby called out casually as he walked by with a tray of cookies. 

Hen snorted, shaking her head. “You all know they’re getting back together by the end of the night. But I’m always happy to take your money.”

———————————————————

Outside, the night was cool—the kind of December night in California where a light jacket was all you needed. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the back of Bobby and Athena’s yard. Twinkling Christmas lights wrapped around the patio’s gazebo casting a warm light over them. 

Tommy and Evan stood side by side, the sound of laughter and soft music occasionally filtering through the partially closed glass doors behind them. 

Tommy had his arms crossed, feeling like it was the only thing keeping him steady. At his side, Evan rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet, scuffing marks onto the concrete floor beneath him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the night filling the silence and space between them. 

Finally, Tommy broke that silence. “So…that just happened.” 

Evan let out a choked laugh, nodding. “Yeah. That definitely happened.” 

Tommy turned to him, his expression soft but hesitant. “I didn't think you’d actually do it.” 

Evan gave a small shrug, his voice quieter now. “Honestly, neither did I. But then Eddie started waving that stupid mistletoe, and I thought…why not? I mean, what’s one more heartbreak, right?” He tried to laugh it off, but it came out more bitter than he was expecting. 

Tommy’s face fell, and he took a small step closer. “Ev…Buck. Fuck, no—Evan,” he said imploringly. His stomach churned at the thought of Evan hurting, all because he had been a coward. 

“No, it’s fine,” Buck apologized quickly, shaking his head. “I’m okay. Really.” 

“Stop,” Tommy said, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Evan.” 

Evan looked at him then, and the vulnerability in his eyes hit Tommy like a punch to the chest. “I don’t know how to do this, Tommy,” Evan admitted. “I don’t know how to stand here with you and act like everything’s okay when you were the one who left me. And yet, I still…” He swallowed hard, his voice trailing off一looking at Tommy slightly scared. 

Tommy felt like he couldn't breathe. He was terrified to ask, but he needed to know. “Yet you still what? He asked gently, stepping closer. 

“I still love you,” Evan finished, his voice barely audible. “And I don’t know how to stop. I’ve tried, Tommy. I promise, but…” 

Tommy’s heart twisted at the raw honesty in Evan’s voice. He reached out, tentatively, his hand hovering for a moment in the space between them, before resting it lightly on the side of Evan’s face. “You’re not the only one,” he said softly. 

Evan inhaled sharply and his eyes met Tommy’s, searching for any sign of deception, of hesitation. “What are you saying?” 

Tommy took a deep breath, his fingers twitching slightly on Evan’s face. “I’m saying I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I’ve spent every moment since I walked out of your loft that night trying to convince myself it was the right thing to do. That you’d be better off without me一”

“Tommy一, Evan tried to interrupt. 

Tommy kept talking, as though he didn't hear Evan. “But seeing you tonight…being near you again…”He shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s like I’ve been living without a heart all this time, and now, here with you一I can feel it beating again.” 

Evan stared at him, uncomprehendingly. “Then why did you leave, Tommy?” 

Tommy’s shoulders sagged under the weight of the question. “That night, when you asked me to move in, I was terrified. I felt like I’d fooled you into thinking I was this amazing guy, and if I let it go on…I’d keep trying to be someone I wasn’t. Or you’d eventually see the real me一a broken and lonely man with a lot of baggage—and eventually you’d realize you’d made a mistake. I didn’t know which one would be worse. I had been hurt so many times before, I couldn't let you break my heart. So I panicked and ran. And broke my own heart in the process.”  

For a moment, Evan didn't say anything, his eyes searching Tommy’s face. Tommy felt his heart clenching in fear at Evan deciding to leave. Then, slowly, Evan reached up and covered Tommy's hand with his own. “I’m sorry, I realized afterwards that I really blindsided you. I should've just told you what I really meant, that I love you and wanted you around as much as possible. I understand being afraid. But Tommy, It wasn't fair of you to make that decision for us. For me. I've been in relationships before, I know when I want something.”

“I know,” Tommy said quietly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. Shouldn't have said it at all.”

“Good,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy’s hand. “And, I get scared too,” he admitted. “But maybe this time around we can really talk and get to know each other better and figure it all out, together.” 

Tommy felt his lips twisting into a smile. “I’d like that. And maybe next time you can remember I own a house, Evan.” Tommy said, using his other hand to poke him on the side. 

Evan’s face exploded into a blinding smile, squirming slightly at Tommy touching his side. “Right, see we’re already discussing the important details!”  

Tommy shook his head fondly, and finally let himself lean forward softly putting his lips to the pink mark above Evan’s eyebrow. Evan sighed happily. 

They stood there for a moment, looking into one another 's eyes, neither quite believing the other was real. Feeling infinitely grateful to their friend who had given them the push they needed to get here. The glow from the Christmas lights reflected in Evan’s beautiful shining blue eyes, as Tommy traced his thumb over his lips. 

“Merry Christmas, Evan,” Tommy said gently, his voice carrying a note of something vulnerable but undeniably hopeful. 

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” Evan replied, pulling him towards him and into a soft kiss. 

And for the first time in months, the space between them didn't feel unbridgeable. It felt like the start of something new. Something stronger. Unshakeable. 

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

★ synopsis: unrequited love manifests itself as a beautiful disease

★ character: zayne

★ cw: first-person pov, university au, hanahaki disease, ANGST

★ word count: 2k

★ a/n: zayne my angsty king. who needs happy endings am i right??? (i'm so sorry)

Google Search: Why am I throwing up flowers??????

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. The flowers can now be surgically removed, but all feelings towards the beloved will dissipate.

I already knew what it was. Everyone does. From the first tulip petal I coughed out while working on my essay, to the bouquet that came up from my lungs, covered in blood, just days later.

It was progressing rapidly as the days went on, and everytime I took a breath my lungs would constrict; the vines curling around them, crushing my breathing ability, and my heart.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I’d go out with friends and attempt to go to class, but I felt embarrassed. Ashamed, even. I could feel their eyes on me, watching as I tried to smother my chokes in the middle of a lecture, only to have to dismiss myself to throw up a rose in the hallway.

It’s not like I could go through campus and see him, the one who gave me this. I ignored his calls, ignored his texts. Not that they came often anyways.

‘Are you okay?’

No, Zayne, do I look like I’m okay? I’m sitting in a pile of flower petals and my own blood on my bathroom floor.

Zayne. He was my childhood best friend, and growing up it always felt like I had to fight for an ounce of his attention. He was top of the class in highschool, popular with all the girls for being smart, stoic, and undeniably sexy. Not once did he entertain any of them, and it made them want him so much more. I was excited for college, thinking I could finally have him to myself, without feeling like I was sharing him with the whole school and his extra curriculars. I knew realistically he’d still lack the time for me, studying biology to go to med school, become a doctor, follow his dreams; and I would never be one to step in the way of that. I knew my place. I was just his best friend. I was aware there were boundaries I shouldn’t cross.

At least, until now.

I remember the moment it hit me.

After days, weeks of begging him, I had finally convinced the introverted, brooding nerd to go to a stupid frat party. For the laughs, I had said, follow the college stereotypes. ‘You only live once, Zayne!’ He humored me, I’ll be grateful for that. Giving it barely an hour (and a few free drinks), he quickly got sick of everything, inviting me outside. We sat outside on the driveway, the cool air a breath of freshness compared to the stuffy, sweat smell from inside.

A dumb rap song played inside, and Zayne looked over to me.

“Slow dance with me.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes, knowing it was the alcohol talking and not him. He’d regret this in the morning, and I’d get a stern talking to.

He stood, reaching his hand out, narrowing his eyes. I took his hand, figuring the least I could do was indulge in this moment. For once, his attention was fully on me.

I laughed as we swayed together, a muffled remix of a shitty rap song as our only background music. Looking up at him, I questioned when he had grown up so much. His once round, soft face with chubby baby cheeks had matured into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones I thought about grazing my hand over. Behind his eyes wasn’t a childish glint anymore, and I wondered how long ago that disappeared.

Pressing my face into his chest, I only felt us. One of his arms around my waist, the other holding my hand that was pressed against his shoulder. My free hand clutched his black jacket, like he would disappear into thin air, and my grasp was the only thing keeping him here.

To a passerby, it would’ve looked like a movie; two college kids dancing together outside of a frat party, holding onto each other like it’s the end of a world. In the movie, the two best friends would confess to each other the next day. The boy would rush to the girl's door, with a bouquet of flowers, gasping for air, saying “I love you, I love you, I love you, I never realized that I did.”

But only I realized. Only I realized I loved him.

Zayne never showed up on my doorstep the day after he walked me home that night. The only flowers I got were the ones that filled my lungs.

I refused to speak to him. I wasn’t mad at him, why would I be? It was my fault for forgetting my boundaries. For forgetting the rules. For thinking I had a chance since all the little highschool girls no longer followed him around like lost dogs. For once thinking that I was no longer his side character, for thinking maybe I could be his love interest in his story.

What would I say to him if we did speak? I couldn’t hide what was growing inside my chest. I couldn't hide my split lips from the thorns, or my scratchy voice. The dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, too busy catching up on work from missed classes and not getting a break from coughing or vomiting. Tell him I was sick? He’d scold me for not taking care of myself, that I need to rest and eat properly. I didn’t want to hear it, scolding me for something he caused. His concern would only grow when I would accidentally cough up a flower in front of him.

Would he ask who I loved? Or would he just look right through me and tell me I needed to get the surgery to fix all of this. ‘Nobody is worth that kind of illness’ He’d say bluntly.

I knew I couldn’t face him. Not knowing if he even cares, yet knowing that the way I look at his face is different from the way he looks at mine. How he sees his future with someone who isn’t me.

“What are you going to do?” I was hanging out with a friend from one of my classes, Tara. She was the only person I felt like I could confide in about all of this.

We were hanging out at one of the campus coffee shops when I told her. It was a good day for my lungs, after almost overdosing on decongestants and ibuprofen.

“I’m not sure.” Twirling my spoon in my cup, I avoided her eyes. “It’s not like I can get the surgery. I can’t afford it.”

She looked me up and down, and I felt as if she could see into my soul. She did, Tara was like that.

“Can your pockets not afford it, or can you not afford it?”

Tara was right. I could afford the surgery, my university healthcare covered the surgery since students caught the disease so often;

But my heart couldn’t afford it.

It had gotten so used to loving Zayne, it would feel empty without the compassion for him. I feared I may act differently, lacking all love for him. Would he even notice?

I quickly made up my mind, looking out the window - seeing the person I dreaded the most.

Zayne sat outside in a car on the other side of the street, and I could only tell it was him if I stared hard enough. He was holding the hands of a girl I had seen around campus. Zayne had briefly mentioned her a few times, talking about the assignments they’d work on together, and I never thought too much of it.

He brought their hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand, and each of her knuckles. His face was gentle, a look I had never seen on him before. She giggled, and I wondered what it would be like to be her. To have him stare at me with all the love in the world, to be able to feel his soft pink lips I had stared at so many times, wishing to just touch, to just feel. To be on the receiving side of his care, his compassion, no more blunt harsh responses and stern looks.

“Hey-”

I turned back to Tara, and coughed up a flower on the table, and I choked back a sob. Tears threatened to poor, but I couldn’t embarrass myself more than I had with the bloody peony in front of me. She came around the table and hugged me, and I mumbled through quivering lips, “Can you take me home please?”

That night the girl had made it official that she and Zayne were dating. All the pictures on social media, the hearts that their friends commented on each other's posts. A disgruntled feeling made my chest spasm, any time I’d post a picture of Zayne he’d make me take it down immediately.

The morning of my surgery, I got up and put on my favorite sweater Zayne had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday.

“I got it for you last month when you stared at it in the shop’s window.” He smiled when he saw my excitement, one of the rare moments I could see his lips turn upward.

On my walk to the bus stop, I saw him sitting there. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood.

“Where have you been?” Zayne looked at me and frowned. I suppressed the immediate urge to roll my eyes.

“I never see you around campus. You’re never in your usual spots, and I texted you. I was supposed to help you study. Are you still attending your classes?” Even after not seeing each other for weeks, he still found a way to shame me. His eyes hard, lips pressed together into a tight line, I wasn’t even sure he was happy to see me.

The bus pulled up.

“Are you going to take the bus?” I asked him, avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “No, I’m waiting for-”

“Yeah, okay. I have to go.”

“Wait,” I turned around to him. It had begun to snow, so the small flakes sparkled on his head in the early morning light like glitter. He always loved winter, the snow.

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head, changing his mind.

I nodded. “I’ll see you, Zayne.” Saying his name felt like acid on my tongue.

Turning around without taking another look at him, I boarded the bus.

Two days later, when I finally came home from my surgery, the only difference I could tell at first was that my chest didn’t hurt anymore. I could finally breathe again without feeling like I was choking on air. The doctors gave me a bag of all the flowers that they collected out of me, and at first I refused to look at them.

Yet as soon as I got home, I felt compelled to sit on my floor and sort through them.

I made piles of each flower, twirling them in my fingers before placing them in their designated places. Some had long vines that I used to tie them together into a crown.

After I finished, I spotted a jacket under my bed. I pulled it out to see it was the black jacket he wore the night we danced together outside that stupid party.

I took a deep breath of it, wishing I would feel the same way I did that night;

But I felt nothing.

It was now just a jacket. He was now just Zayne.

I put it on, wrapping it tightly around my body. I nestled the flowers along my head like a crown of thorns.

Looking at the girl in the mirror, staring at her with her blood stained flower crown, I broke down.

(divider by cafekitsune)