#pretty much hopelessly
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captainkirkk · 2 years ago
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I thought there was nothing that would make me sympathetic towards Luke, but damn the Last Olympian wore me down
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shazeys-bookblog · 2 months ago
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Oh what a privilege it is to learn you little by little moment by moment
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nobodybetterlookatme · 18 days ago
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ARE YOU AND COWORKER DATING?! 👀 👀
Ahdkakskal perchance yes
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fragmentedblade · 7 months ago
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I think I've become an official HI3 player. I check the HSR leaks hoping for iterations of HI3 characters now
#I have little hope about some of them. For instance the Su and Kevin voice actors are taken by Aventurine and the Trailblazer iirc?#Kalpas' voice actor does the male Dreamseeker in Part 2 of HI3 which is not as terminal considering HSR is a different game but still#Luocha thankfully exists. I don't think they'll be introducing Kiana anytime soon#I would love Sakura but I'm way more into PE Sakura than CE Sakura and then there's what they did with Miko#Some of my favourite things of PE Sakura they gave to Jingliu or Acheron already (freeze time‚ haunted and corrupted by loss‚#unable to unsheathe a sword and memories coming back to her when she does‚#piercing someone's heart with her sword but the other person living on with a new life‚...)#Thus an iteration of all that but with the cool things missing could get messy and unsatisfactory pretty easily#Mobius and MEI are similar to Mei and Herta so they're in a similar situation to PE Sakura#I find Griseo somewhat unsettling in a good way and in a way same with Eden. I love all the loss weighing on her as if she had already dead#with the concept of her being The Era itself and the era dying. So I wouldn't mind seeing them too#Hua seems like she may appear in the Xianzhou? Given the Marshall existence and that the Xianzhou drinks a lot of those concepts#Blade‚ Dan Heng and Jingliu drink so much of Fu Hua. I don't care about Hua though. The Herrscher I did like though#I'm curious about what they'll do#Other than the Chinese voice actor having already a steady job in Mihoyo‚ there's echoes of Kalpas in Blade‚ Arlan and Sam#so I really don't have much hope there. Not as little as with Kevin and Su perhaps but... yeah not really a lot of hope#Yet here I am. Hopelessly hoping for a Kalpas iteration. Imagine how beautiful the fire would be *sigh*#I was so mad about him being my favourite in HI3 but it just makes sense#Besides the Guzm.a process he went me go through‚ he truly has a lot of themes going on that recall Blade. I don't know...#I like his CN voice actor a lot‚ and how he plays Kalpas in particular‚ both when he's calm and when he's deranged#The Dreamseeker doesn't have the same voice at all unfortunately. I would really love to see him in HSR what can I say#That's the kind of person I've become. In a little bit of time I'll be wanting a Kalpas plushie at this rate#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later
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cocoabeloved · 1 year ago
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ideal first date would be watching tons of movies at home, talking ON and ON and ON about all our favourite books, listening to shuffled spotify playlists and finally baking cookies and having hot cocoa with marshmallows late at night while cuddling <3
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paperlovesadness · 2 years ago
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I'm sorry I'm just so obsessed with this concept
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brzatto · 1 year ago
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making a poll because i’m genuinely curious about something
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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Honestly I have realized that 99% of my shipping of vashwood comes from trimax. Yea I vibed with it while watching tristamp but trimax is what took my utter heart and soul
It's to the point where I just don't rly enjoy tristamp vashwood that much anymore hfkshfjd like. OK? Those sure are some dudes. Not My dudes tho, sorry.
#speculation nation#i'll still reblog the fanart if it's good. but yea it just ain't what im about anymore.#i feel like the worst vashwood perceptions r found within tristamp only fans anyways#(this post tangentially related to the post i just reblogged)#tristamp only fans see these two and are like 'this is the Angry Buff Dude and the Tiny Pixy Man'#which pretty much erases like everything they stand for? while also supporting racist caricatures.#not all tristamp only fans do this btw but i have definitely seen it much more around there.#meanwhile trimax vashwood is just like. this is an old married couple. theyre so hopelessly Goofy.#the angst is off the CHARTS. the love even more so.#they very genuinely love each other in trimax In Canon and that's what really gets me.#plus theyre pretty similar in height and build. Adult Men!!!! i like this ship for Adult Men!!!!!#idk this also relates to that post i made yesterday about fandom perception of vash being an innocent uwu virgin#despite being 150 or so years old. & they'll also make wolfwood some sex god or whatever#when comparatively hes been an adult for a MUCH shorter time than vash. my dude's still a pretty young adult ok#and you wanna tell me he's got more sex experience than the 150 year old dude????? ok...#lol im just complaining at this point. i have very specific views of my ideal version of this pairing#and a lot of fandom portrayals are starting to bother me bc of it.#so im just writing my own vashwood my own way. rn focusing on vash being a rounded person#yes having some childish aspects. but also some mature aspects. he's a goofy adult. it can exist simultaneously.#looking forward to when wolfwood finally comes in. i hope to do him justice.
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wings-of-angels · 1 year ago
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Movies that show people in a daze during and after a stressful event are LIARS everything continues on and is normal and you feel bad for not constantly being sad or worried but life just continues and ur mind wanders and you think about other stuff
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foxgirlmoth · 1 year ago
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Talking in depth with coworkers and friends about how love feels to me and how I express it any everything and being met with similar or exact feelings and thoughts I have is very affirming and nice. I've had a few relationships where my love towards someone was told it was constricting or annoying but I was literally just loving in the way that I do. Yes love and by extention a life with someone is important to me and yes I think about my partners daily and yes I imagine myself tucked in bed with my wife every night when I fall asleep without her. Its more common than I thought to have a love that encompasses my every day even without your partner present.
Having a person who feels like home and is always a joy to be around is what love is to me and damn am I swimming in that stuff rn.
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singsweetmelodies · 2 years ago
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ily have a pierre
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I LOVE YOU TOOOO 🥺🩷🩷 and thank you so much for the pierre! THE best way to be cheered up on my sickbed, truly <333
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zombieskae · 5 months ago
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I just can't I'll vent on the tags lol
#i fell in love#again#of course#the thing is she said she kinda likes me back. but she has a lot of things to solve first. her boyfriend. her fear of being with a woman.#and everything in between. it's quite hurtfull. because we spoke about it today#and i can't shake the feeling that she only has me in standby. like a second option or something worse#i know we are too far away from each other. shes french. I'm latina. it shouldn't work! but i kinda want it to work. even if it's just me#pinning hopelessly after them. i want the pretty love she has shown me. i want thw cute names and the worry she's shown me. to share so many#things and be so far away is daunting. it hurts. i can't bear it. but if she tells me she wants me or shows me she will put an effort for me#i will fall all over again. i just know#i like her too much. we've been talking about a lot of things. I've been for her as much as she has been there for me. shes funny and pretty#and witty. i love the way she smiles and the way she laughs she's always making me laugh too. and listens to me when I'm sad. it's not just#the things she does for me. but the fact that it's her. i can't really pinpoint the moment i fell. but everytime i fell deeper. she's just#so soft. and so chaotic. but i know we wouldn't be good together. because well. she's too far away. I'm too far away mentally and physically#i dunno if i can wait for her to be finished thinking. not for a year till she makes up her mind. maybe I'll wait a month or three. damn I#will fucking wait half a year. if she actually means it. if she actually tried. but if not. we'll just stay friends. and I'll dedicate her#good luck babe#by chappell roan
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phantomsies · 2 months ago
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𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙
your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….
black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot
📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶��� (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)
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nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.
nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..
from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.
nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.
shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..
“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..
despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.
it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”
nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.
so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.
nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.
nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.
“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.
nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.
“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”
nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.
nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.
“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.
nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.
but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.
“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.
nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.
“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”
nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.
nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.
nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”
nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!
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lokissweater · 5 months ago
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“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩
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{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.
warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.
word count: 8.7k
authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.
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yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.
you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.
eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.
but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.
but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.
“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”
yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.
from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.
luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.
you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).
yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.
“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”
yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“
“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”
“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”
but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.
yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.
firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.
it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.
but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.
but he couldn’t have you.
yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.
he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.
but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.
yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.
at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.
heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.
“yuta?”
his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.
“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.
“i was-”
“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”
“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”
he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.
“why aren’t you in tutoring?”
“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”
you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”
he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”
“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”
oh how he loved when you called him that.
his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”
you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.
after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.
“why are your eyes red?”
you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.
“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.
yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.
his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.
he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”
your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.
yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.
he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”
you shook your head against his chest.
“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.
“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.
he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.
yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.
“i know.”
your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”
yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”
you sniffed.
“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.
your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”
you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”
loved?
yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.
“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”
his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”
you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.
“why? what did he say?”
“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”
yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”
you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.
“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”
he stayed silent.
“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”
another sibling?
yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.
how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?
yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.
“is that how you see me?”
“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.
“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”
you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.
but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”
for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.
a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.
but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.
so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”
yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.
but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.
but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.
when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.
but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.
and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.
yuta never cried.
when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”
“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.
you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”
yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?
as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”
you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”
yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.
after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.
and to that, yuta was happy.
and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.
he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.
you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.
he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.
but neither of you seemed to care.
“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.
you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.
“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.
“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”
he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”
yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.
once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”
yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”
you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”
“which is..?”
“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”
yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…
no.
he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.
“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.
“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”
his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.
“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.
he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.
yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.
but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”
you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”
he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.
you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”
you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.
yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.
with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.
“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.
his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”
you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.
“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”
yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.
he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.
your trust.
you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.
“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.
“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”
you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”
he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”
you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.
your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.
as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.
“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”
“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”
you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.
“only if the house comes with you.”
yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…
no.
“what… you want me as a roommate?”
you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.
yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.
it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.
your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.
every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.
he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.
yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.
“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”
he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.
“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”
and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.
his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.
but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.
best friends don’t do things like this.
and he did not give a single fuck.
your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.
the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.
“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.
yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.
“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”
and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.
and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“you studying?” he asked.
yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.
his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”
that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”
“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”
yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”
“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”
yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”
“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”
“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”
his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”
“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”
his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.
“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”
yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”
his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”
yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”
his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”
“fuck no.”
“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”
“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”
“that’s not true—”
“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”
his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.
“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”
“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”
“whatever man it was high school—”
“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”
“i’m leaving.”
and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.
and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.
yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.
with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.
the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.
his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.
slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”
you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”
but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.
“what’s wrong?”
“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.
“…you mentioned that yeah—”
“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”
your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”
“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”
yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.
“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”
his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”
you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”
“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”
yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”
“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”
you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.
“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“yeah?”
“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.
you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”
you scoffed, “my little love?!”
and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.
and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.
“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”
���who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”
“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”
“i—”
“is this how low you think of me?”
“no baby i don’t—”
“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”
“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”
“then why—”
yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”
he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.
“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”
“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.
he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.
yuta never cried.
“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”
he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.
“yu…”
“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”
he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”
“yuta, can you please look at me?”
“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”
you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”
he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”
“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“
your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”
you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.
“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”
he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”
“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.
“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”
“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”
you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.
“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”
yuta slightly smiled.
“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”
he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.
“who told you i didn’t love you back?”
yuta froze. “you did?”
“when?”
“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”
you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”
you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.
you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”
“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.
“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”
yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.
“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”
you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”
silence. nothing.
and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.
half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.
you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”
“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”
you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”
and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.
“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”
“please.”
and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.
“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.
he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”
and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.
things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.
sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.
you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”
yuta nodded, “there is baby.”
“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”
“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”
yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”
he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”
you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”
yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.
“because he brought you to me.”
and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—
“i love you and i love you, yuta.”
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whytheylosttheirminds · 19 days ago
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home for the holidays (part two) - r.c.
❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️ (part one here!)
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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!)
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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.
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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. 
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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.”
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“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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.”
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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.”
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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)
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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!
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hon3y-y · 8 months ago
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ roommate!sukuna just can’t get enough of you…
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sukuna finds his perverted roommate getting fucked and can’t look away
cw: voyeurism, pervy reader & sukuna, (ft satoru), masturbation (m&f), light overstimulation(m), Non curse AU
pt 2: here<3 pt 3: here<3 pt 4: here<3
masterlist
enjoy<3
roommate! Sukuna knows you touch yourself when he has girls over, so he makes sure to make it extra loud, having the girls basically sobbing on his cock. Meanwhile, you pathetically listen through the walls separating your rooms, hand lowered into your panties, trying to stay quiet.
You listen to the whiny mess he turns all of his hookups into, hearing the clapping of skin on skin and babbling that the girl spews, clearly drunk on pleasure. roommate! Sukuna goes for so long, and you listen to every second like a pervert. You hear every word he spits and imagine it’s you who he’s calling ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty whore’, cumming as many times around your wet fingers as you can.
Of course, roommate! Sukuna didn’t always know about his little perverted roommate. That was, until you came home one night, absolutely plastered, stumbling onto nearly every surface from barely being able to hold yourself up. As Ryo tried to help you across the apartment, you confessed your dirty secret, staring up at him with tears about how ashamed you felt, begging him for forgiveness.
Meanwhile, he was throbbing in his pants at the thought of his cute roomie desperately trying to get off because she was just too scared to ask him to fuck her stupid. he could imagine it, the way you would hopelessly hump your fingers, knowing it’ll never feel like him. the image made his ego swell. All he did was pat your head and tuck you in, and the next morning, acted as if nothing happened. not that you even realized, the end of the night still blacked out from your memory.
You decide that enough is enough, feeling ashamed by how your lack of sexual activities is being forced on your unsuspecting (👀) roommate. That’s what got you into this position:  meeting some random guy in the club and bringing him home, hoping that maybe by getting a good fuck, you’ll stop your perversion.
You and your date's moves are frantic, practically ripping off each other's clothes and desperately grinding on each other for some sort of friction. You end up in your room, articles of clothing scattered across the apartment that you didn’t care about, too busy with your head buried into the pillow as your date, whose name you learned is Satoru, licked your pussy like a lollipop, moaning like it was the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. 
Roommate! Sukuna had been sleeping when he woke up to a thud on the wall connecting your rooms. It was a light thud, usually something he’d ignore and go back to sleep, but then it was a constant creak, followed by the sounds of your whimpers. At first, he thought you were up by yourself, trying to get off while he was sleeping, until the deep voice of a man groaned, “Fuck—take it, baby—such a good fuckin’ girl" 
Ryo nearly jumped out of bed. In the year you two have been roommates, you never invited anyone over; it was only him who would have random hookups. This was new. and as much as it was pissing him off, the bulge in his pants made the situation a little more complicated. That’s how he found himself outside your room, peering into the cracked door to watch you take another man’s dick.
You looked like you were in ecstasy—the way your hands gripped the sheets and your toes curled, the pitched whines of “yes, don’t stop—please satoru~” His hand automatically moved to palm his cock, watching as this man, Satoru, forced you deeper into the sheets, pounding into your pussy. Besides the noises that escaped your mouth, he could hear the squelch every time he plunged into your sopping cunt, making Ryo’s mouth water at how wet you must be. It almost made him angry. That was his neglected pussy, and here this guy was enjoying it. 
Still, he couldn’t deny how hot you looked. Sukuna’s body was on fire, and he moved to stroke his aching cock while picturing it as him. It was him plugging up that sweet pussy and making you cream around his cock, fucking you until you were a mess of tears and cum, leaving you shaking and unable to walk. His knees became weaker, gripping onto the walls to stroke his cock faster, and he ran his fingers over his sensitive tip, making his jaw drop.
roommate! Sukuna came all over his fingers, having to rush his hand to his mouth to stop the groan he desperately wanted to let out. His body racked and shuttered with pleasure, painting himself in his own cum. He couldn’t stop, though; Satoru had flipped you over, and now he could see the look on your face.
You looked so fucked out, panting and spreading your legs because you needed to be fucked so bad. The slight scrunch in your brow made him feral, working past the overstimulation and using his own release as lube to keep going. it was messy and completely unlike himself, but the sight of you cumming was addicting.
roommate! Sukuna, who is left quietly panting outside your door, still messy from his own cum, and still desperately horny.
roommate! Sukuna, who is officially waving the white flag in this stupid game he’s had going on, you’re his, and no one-night stand is taking that away.
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a/n: hiiii<3 i’ve been super busy bc this semester KICKED MY ASS but it’s ending 🙏 so i might write more, we’ll see😵‍💫 also, i have seen requests and will hopefully upload some soon? no promises though but i’ll try! :)))
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