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unpopularly-opinionated · 17 hours ago
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Almost every week, for the last maybe 2-2 1/2 years or so, I (27) have been going out to different bars with the same group of people, all of whom are at least twice my age or more and I honestly couldn’t recommend it more for younger people.
I mean to get the bad aspects out of the way upfront, I did (and sometimes still do) have a minor insecurity about being the “annoying child of someone in the group that everyone has to pretend to tolerate”. My stepdad is the one who initiated the hangouts originally, and I initially was just tagging along for free food and booze. No one’s ever done anything to make me feel that way mind you, they are always SUPER accommodating, almost too much sometimes. Sometimes they’ll straight up change topics if they’ve noticed I checked out because I wasn’t interested in what they were talking about. It’s just my own irrational insecurity that crops up from time to time. I also struggle sometimes with explaining this friendship to other people, often referring to them as “my stepdad’s friends” even though we’ve been out together so many times that I could and should very reasonably consider them my friends too. Again, this is a me thing, nothing against them.
We started out doing it with a purpose, we were doing bar trivia every week and having a blast. But over time, we grew kinda bored of the trivia, the format kinda changed, and it started pretty late into the evening, and we ultimately just realized that we actually were just cool hanging out and chatting without needing to have an excuse to be there.
But being the youngest among them, I just find them very interesting to talk to. They’re always talking about their jobs, the good, the bad, and the ugly of them all. Most of them are managers of several people, and they’re the type of managers who care more about their employees than the businesses, so I always feel like I’m hearing a fair assessment of whether an employee is being completely insane, or if the company is screwing them over somehow, or what not. And just how the working world works from their perspective. Not to mention how they got to where they’re at. One went to college and has a masters, one went to college but dropped out and taught himself to code, another just worked his way up from the bottom to the top (yes, they all work in the tech industry lol).
This isn’t even mentioning the fact that my grandfather is there with us as well, and he’s retired now but he had been an electrician for 60+ years prior, and being the oldest of our group, he has like a whole extra generation’s worth of experience to add to the mix too. It’s really great because it kind of adds that extra layer that makes me feel more comfortable in the group (like yeah, I’m the clueless youth compared to most of these guys, but they’re all youths to him too).
I can’t really explain it too well, but I feel like I just absorb life experience by hanging out with this group of people. It’s not all just work talk either, they talk about their personal hobbies, trips they’ve been on or are going on, their kids, food, alcohol, sports, politics, lots of politics, social media nonsense, etc. No one ever gets worked up over things, even when talking politics.
TL;DR: I recommend befriending people much older than yourself. It’s not creepy or weird, and you could learn a lot, even if you might not think so. Just sitting there and absorbing it all I think would benefit a lot of younger people.
I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.
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joeyfranchise · 1 day ago
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟
last christmas, i gave you my heart
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ex!joe x fem!reader
note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.
song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.
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joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.
he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.
the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.
when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.
joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.
in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.
it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.
but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.
joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.
joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.
he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.
when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.
but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.
why did he do that to you?
when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.
joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.
around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.
he should have thanked you for that.
joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.
he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.
joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.
when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.
they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.
the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.
joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.
he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.
y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.
the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?
he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.
he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.
you answered.
“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.
“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.
“are you— is everything okay?”
“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.
“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.
“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.
“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.
he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.
“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.
“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.
“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.
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all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.
taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori
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jweekgoji · 2 days ago
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I keep laughing when I think about the scene where Motorcycle!Reader is so small that they don't have their own charging chamber and have to live in someone else's charging chamber because after all they are so small that they don't take up much space.
TFO!Chars/Motorcycle!Reader [hcs]
tw: none, i guess. word count: ~1600 additional tags: gender neutral reader, cybertronian reader, motorcycle!reader. characters included: B-127, Optimus Prime, Elita-One, Megatron, Sentinel Prime.
That is both a curse and a blessing in my opinion, but well, it depends on whom the tiny reader is stuck with 😋
I mean, >B-127 didn't even have his own place to sleep. All the yellow bot had, was a conveyor belt, which I doubt it was really comfortable, haha. Well then, after just ending Sentinel's regime, the ex-cogless group at least have some places to stay.
When Bee found out you'd be living with him for a while, he was overjoyed! First he made many, many new friends, gained the ability to transform, started working for the government, and now...he has a roommate? A real roommate? The one who can open their mouth when 🐝 talks to them? The day couldn't be any better! (Not that Bee wasn't happy with Steve's company...).
To be fair, Bee himself isn't exactly a bad neighbor either. It all very much depends on what kind of personality you have. If you really get along well with him, despite his extremely emotional state, which sometimes seems to never end, then good luck!
Sharing a chamber with him is going to be an absolute challenge. We remember that he talks in his sleep, don't we? And if Shockwave was so sick of Bumblebee in that short time, imagine how you have to recharge, but now all you can hear, instead of the silence you crave, is constant mumbling into your audio receptors.
Sometimes he's just mumbling about what a cool day he had with Optimus or what an intense training session Elita gave him.
Sometimes you notice how his servos only pull you harder against him. For a moment, you'd probably sigh wearily or try to make some space between you until he starts whispering softly about how happy Bee is to have you in his life. He genuinely, really genuinely loves you. After cycles of being alone, he really misses your company. Will you decide to move him away from you nevertheless?
The next morning, surprisingly, he has no memory of what he told you at all.
> Optimus apologizes to you so much when he finds out that now, unfortunately or thankfully (?), they don't have any time or resources at all to build new quarters. The new Prime has so many new responsibilities that he doesn't even know where to start! He has to clean up and fix Sentinel's mistakes, not to mention his divorce with D-16 Megatron, which has caused him a lot of trouble. But that's okay, our favorite Prime has a solution for that!
And as a good, true leader...yes, yes, you will be the one sharing the room. Lucky, huh? Oh, lucky you.
Optimus is actually one of the best candidates to share a chamber. I find that most of the time, he doesn't have much time to go to his room and fall asleep. You often fall asleep alone, only to wake up later...alone. Was he with you? Did he come in at all? In response to this, you sometimes notice him passed out at his desk. You should definitely tell Elita about this to scold him about such a bad habit.
Actually, he'd be happy to share the charging chamber with you. The thing is, he's extremely shy.
When you fall asleep with him, there's just not enough room! Yeah, you're a pretty small bot, he's just so huge. It takes the two of you a long time to finally find the only comfortable solution.
With you on top of Optimus, you can put your helm on his chassis. The soft shimmer of the Matrix of Leadership doesn't bother you at all; if anything, it calms your nerves. All night long, your leader may never move from his position. He's so afraid he might accidentally hit you if he rolls over or decides to stand up...poor Prime, even Megatron didn't set such dangerous traps for him!
The first few nights, Optimus doesn't sleep much. He's nervous; he thinks up to the late night, but in the end, he can't resist you, and you two can get your well-deserved rest.
I think after Prime, the best candidate for your roommate would be >Elita. I like to think she always sleeps in “mom's pose” (if you know what I mean).
She can lie on her back with her servos on her chassis and not move a muscle all night. Other than that, she's a completely silent sleeper. Sometimes, you can stay up late at night; your shared room is unlit, and you don't want to turn on the lights so as not to disturb her. If she finds out you've been out the whole night instead of recharging, she'll kill you!
You swear you didn't even make the slightest creak, and just then, you see those bright blue optics staring at you in the darkness. Without even seeing her face, you know you're in trouble...She has very sharp hearing, unfortunately for you.
Elita isn't the tallest bot; sure, she's still taller than you, but her frame is pretty slim, unlike the others'. She is not the type to cuddle, even if you are extremely close to her. The most you can expect is her servo around your waist or shoulders.
You can tease her about it, but she'll try to deny everything, saying “just don't want you to fall and hit the floor 🙄” of course we all believe you, Elita!
I can see D-16 being a similar type to Optimus, but Megatron is a different story. I have no idea where our young Decepticon leader went with his guards, but at least they have a few cycles to spend building a base, especially one with all the comforts.
Megatron himself is not a fan of sharing, and when he realizes the problem, he doesn't even ask you if you want him to or not. You will share the chamber with him, period. Should you be worried or happy...?
Megatron, especially if we're talking about a young and inexperienced leader who was only recently forced to leave Iacon, is in need of support. He won't show it in front of anyone, not even you. But you know him enough to know what is troubling him.
He is so isolated, betrayed and saddened, he is afraid to open up to anyone else. And yet, he genuinely wishes someone could just hold him.
Megatron rarely sleeps. 24 hours a day, all he has on his mind is what he should do next. It used to be so easy; the mere thought of it makes him grit his teeth. When there was Sentinel, all that was required was to just follow the protocols. Now, with hundreds of high guard members expecting him to do something, he's lost.
At some point, Starscream or Soundwave will remind him of the importance of rest, and without any enthusiasm, he'll join you.
Now, the two of you are extremely awkward.
Of course, you can't tell much from his looks. Is he asleep? Or still lying there with his optics closed? This awkward silence makes you afraid to move. But the truth is, Megatron himself doesn't know what to do. You're so small compared to him; by some miracle, the two of you can fit, but it's so extremely uncomfortable.
Eventually, he can't stand it and just lifts you up to lay you on top of him. Luckily for him, you have no intention of moving away from him. Perhaps you're afraid; maybe you're okay with this change in positions. Either option is fine with him.
He repeats in his head that this is only temporary...when resources become available, you will get your own separate quarters, and you will be able to sleep separately. And yet, he doesn't want that. Your presence around him, for whatever reason, makes him forget his worries for a while, and he can finally rest.
You may disagree with me, but >Sentinel, no matter how sexy man people try to show him to be, would be just a terrible roommate! If he can even be called a roommate? Sometimes, he forgets that you're resting here too, and even if you remind him of that, he'll pretend to “listen” to you, only to forget after a while.
In fact, he could easily order a separate room for you; he's got plenty of them in his tower, but he's like.... no. He wants you around just because he can. There's no other reason.
I think he's more or less tolerable at first? He likes to keep something small next to him; imagine it like the cybertronian equivalent of plush toys, but only that toy is you. And it seems he may see you as such.
Every night, he can grab you at any time he wants and hold you against him. One time he just held you by his side; another time he decided to put his servo around you; tonight he wanted you on his chassis! The worst part is that his berth is quite spacious. And you can lie on the very far side, only for him to snatch you whenever he wants. Not very funny.
Recharging with him is pretty uncomfortable because those damn wings keep hitting you in the face every night. He's a pretty big bot on his own, and his wings are another big nuisance. Of course, he's not that terrible. Still, his room is very large, and you're probably very cozy, but Sentinel...sigh.
It's funny, but I like to think of him mumbling in his sleep too. Only this time all you can hear from him is about how often he praises himself. Wow.
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kiwriteswords · 3 days ago
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LEts see a hallmark-y meet cute Hotch and Readr christmas drabble
Let your heart be light [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]
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Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1.3k|| 
Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, Hotch feeling like a bad parent, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Actual tooth-rotting Fluff, Stranded at the airport, alcohol tw, possibly ooc for Hotch at the end but I wanted to add fluff.
Sypnosis: Amid a holiday snowstorm, Aaron Hotchner and a fellow stranded traveler, you, find unexpected camaraderie at an airport bar
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The bustling atmosphere of the commercial airport was the last place Aaron Hotchner wanted to find himself, especially so close to the holidays. The snowstorm outside raged with a fury, mirroring the frustration bubbling within him and his team. Flights were canceled left and right--starting with the private jet, announcements blaring over the loudspeakers only added to the cacophony, and families and travelers alike were stranded—much like the BAU.
Rossi, ever the optimist or perhaps just desperate for a distraction, led the way through the crowded terminals. “If we’re going to be stuck with the general population, we might as well live it up,” he declared, guiding the team—JJ, Emily, Derek, Spencer, and a reluctant Hotch—toward the airport bar.
The bar was a loud, colorful oasis amid the sea of frustrated passengers. The team found a corner where they could at least hear each other over the din. Hotch sat with them, his mind a thousand miles away with Jack, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed if Daddy missed Christmas morning.
“You look like someone stole your last cookie, Hotch,” Derek teased, nudging him slightly with his elbow.
Hotch managed a tight-lipped smile. “Just thinking about Jack,” he admitted, scanning the room distractedly. That’s when he noticed you. You were sitting alone at the bar, your posture relaxed despite the chaos, sipping on a drink and occasionally glancing at your phone.
Unexpectedly, a bartender approached him with a glass, setting it down in front of him. “Compliments of the lady over at the bar,” the bartender said, nodding in your direction.
Hotch’s eyes widened slightly, following the bartender’s gesture back to you. The team had noticed the exchange too, their teasing grins growing wider.
“She’s beautiful, Hotch. And it looks like she thinks you could use some company,” Emily commented, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“You should go say hi,” JJ added, her voice warm and encouraging.
Hotch hesitated, his usual reservations about such situations wrestling with the unexpected kindness you’d shown. “She probably just feels sorry for the lonely guy in a suit,” he muttered.
“Or maybe she recognizes a handsome man when she sees one. Go on, Aaron,” Rossi pushed, not letting Hotch’s self-doubt win.
With a deep breath, Hotch stood and made his way over to you. He could feel the eyes of his team on his back, their whispers barely masked by their attempts to not make it obvious they were watching.
As he approached, you looked up, your eyes meeting his. “Hi,” he started, feeling unusually out of his element. “I wanted to thank you for the drink.”
You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle slightly. “You looked more down and out than me, so I figured you could use it more,” you replied, your tone light and friendly.
Hotch chuckled softly, the sound more relaxed than he felt. “That’s very kind of you. Are you also stranded?”
“Yeah, was heading home for Christmas, but it looks like I’m spending it with airport cocktails instead,” you said, gesturing to the chaos outside the window where snow continued to blanket the runway.
“What about you? Any plans ruined by this storm?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, inviting him to share more.
Hotch took a sip of the drink you’d sent him, finding comfort in the simple act. “Trying to get home to my son. He’s expecting Santa and his dad, not necessarily in that order.”
Your expression softened. “He’s lucky to have a dad rushing to get back to him. I’m sure he’ll understand, though. Sometimes things are out of our control.”
Hotch nodded, feeling the truth in your words. He glanced back at the bar where his team was pretending not to watch them. “My team seems to think I should thank you more properly for the drink. They’re... supportive like that.”
Laughing, you glanced over his shoulder at the group waving subtly. “They seem like a good bunch. How about we join forces and make the best of this holiday delay?” you suggested with a playful grin.
Hotch couldn’t help but smile back, feeling an unexpected ease in your company. “That sounds like a plan,” he agreed, his voice carrying a hint of relief.
Together, you walked over to the bar where the team eagerly made space for both of you. Rossi, always quick to turn a stranger into a friend, raised his glass in a welcoming toast. "To unexpected Christmas companions!"
The evening rolled on with laughter and stories exchanged over rounds of drinks. Hotch found himself increasingly drawn to your sense of humor and the easy way you interacted with his team. You shared tales of your own holiday mishaps from previous years, each story more engaging than the last. Hotch reciprocated with anecdotes of his own, each glimpse into his life making you laugh and lean in closer.
As the night deepened and the crowd thinned, you and Hotch found yourselves lingering at the bar long after the others had decided to find a hotel for the night. The din of the airport had mellowed to a soft murmur, and the storm outside seemed less severe when viewed from the warm glow of the bar.
“You know, I never thought I’d find myself hoping a flight would get delayed longer,” Hotch confessed, his eyes locked on yours. “But I’m glad I did tonight.”
You smiled, the light catching your eyes in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I guess some Christmas surprises come in unexpected packages,” you quipped, nudging his hand with yours on the bar top.
Hotch found himself reaching out, his hand covering yours. “This is definitely one surprise I'm thankful for,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with his, the simple act charged with an unspoken promise. “Aaron, if we’re stuck here, might as well make the most of it, right? How about we go for a walk? It might be nice to see the snow without a window between us.”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second—thinking of protocols and proprieties—but then he nodded. “Let’s do that.”
Wrapped up in borrowed airport scarves and coats, you walked together through the near-deserted terminals. The snow outside painted everything in shades of muted silver and white, and the world felt hushed, paused at your shared footsteps.
As you walked, Hotch found himself opening up about more than just work or his son. He talked about his hopes, his past holidays, and even his fears. You listened, offering thoughts and laughter in equal measure, pulling him out of his reserved shell.
Eventually, you stopped at a large window overlooking the tarmac, where the snow was piling up on empty jets. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? How something as simple as snow can change everything,” you mused, leaning against the glass.
“It is,” Hotch agreed, standing close enough to share warmth. He looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the terminal casting shadows that played across your face. “You know, I think this is the most I’ve relaxed in a long time.”
“That’s what holidays are for, right? Even if they don’t go as planned,” you said, looking up at him with a smile that suggested so much more than casual conversation.
Hotch nodded, lost for a moment in the depth of your gaze. Then, almost without thinking, he leaned down, his voice a whisper. “May I?”
Your answer was to rise slightly on your toes, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tentative kiss that spoke of new beginnings and mutual understanding. It was a kiss that promised more, a kiss that acknowledged the snowstorm outside not as a barrier, but as a backdrop to something unexpected and just as beautiful.
As you both pulled back, breathless from the contact and the emotions it stirred, Hotch knew this Christmas would be one to remember, not for the plans that went awry, but for the unexpected gift of meeting someone who turned a delay into a moment worth savoring.
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Tag List:
@zaddyhotch
@estragos
@todorokishoe24
@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
@reidfile
@bernelflo
@lover-of-books-and-tea
@frickin-bats
@sleepysongbirdsings
@justyourusualash
@person-005
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random2908 · 10 hours ago
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I mean... OP is from Australia, I think? As are some of the other commenters? This isn't entirely about the US.
In America, the degree to which this is unadorned truth versus exaggeration depends what you're buying. I expect a sweatshirt to last at least five years of daily wear; however, I don't wash them unless they are visibly dirty or it's been, like, several months. I expect a t-shirt to last about 5 years in rotation where I might wear it once every 2 weeks and wash it regularly. My winter jacket was purchased 16 or 17 years ago (from a random store at the mall) and my fall jacket was purchased 8 years ago (from Kohl's, a mid-range department store), and although my winter jacket doesn't fit all that well anymore, neither jacket is nearing the end of its lifetime. I generally keep 2-4 pairs of jeans in rotation, washing them about monthly, and expect them to last about 3 years. My dad bought me two bed sets from Target (cheap department store) 20 years ago, and for a long time I just alternated between them; the fitted sheet on one of them tore after about 7 years and the other lasted 19 years. (Admittedly, I'm apparently really gentle with all of my possessions, because my electronics, furniture, etc also seem to last relatively long.)
So yeah, some stuff lasts. However.
My jeans that wear through in 3 years, first of all, would wear through in a couple months if I treated them like a child would--I know this with some certainty because I do occasionally tear them at work. Whereas when I was a child in the 80s/90s, my jeans lasted 1-2 years of running around and falling down. And some people have jeans from the 1970s that are still wearable. So yeah, my jeans don't wear out in a season, but they do last at most 1/2 as long, probably a lot less than that, compared to jeans of decades ago. And you can feel that the fabric is much thinner.
I remember in 1998, on a road trip, my mom bought me a t-shirt from a t-shirt stand, for $5, and the material felt completely different. Much softer, much thinner, than any of my other t-shirts. (I was 15, so I'd had a lot of time to learn what a t-shirt should feel like.) But it still said 100% cotton--it wasn't a different material, just a worse construction. These days, it's the other way around: I have exactly one t-shirt with the texture of the ones of my childhood, and all the rest feel like that one cheap shirt. And all but that one t-shirt has ripped on my belt buckle no matter how well I file down any sharp edges, because the shirts are so thin and flimsy. Sure, I usually wear these shirts for about 5-6 years until the holes are bad enough that they aren't presentable. The design has usually all the way worn off by then. But I was still wearing t-shirts from middle school when I was in grad school, and some of them had almost no degradation of the design (luckily when I was in middle school oversize t-shirts were in, so they fit properly when I was a young adult). Also, the t-shirts from my childhood, when they finally wore out when I was an adult, it was because the seams ripped. The t-shirts from my adulthood, when they wear out, it's because holes tear in the fabric itself.
So far I've been mostly talking about all-cotton clothing, except for the sweatshirts, and sometimes the jeans, which are a mix. The synthetic stuff falls apart a lot quicker. I have a dress that I've worn twice, that I washed once (careful of the instructions on the tag) and it's already pilling. Pilling means significant fabric loss, which means its days are number until it's ready to tear.
So yeah, a lot of generic clothing does last longer than people are saying--but some doesn't. And even so, the failure still happens a lot faster than it used to, and the failure points are in different places than they used to be.
I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.
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nocasdatsgay · 22 hours ago
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First Winter Solstice: A Neapolitan Bonds Fic
Rating: T | Word Count: 1611 |Pairing: Reader/Eris/Azriel |
Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist | Read on A03 | Read Below
Summary: You convince Az and Eris to let you decorate the Forest House for Winter Solstice as new Lady of Autumn.
A/N: Happy belated Solstice. I decided to whip this up I since I was getting in the grove of writing again. I will update the wips before new years (I hope). I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday this week :D
Tagging: @mybestfriendmademe @pit-and-the-pen @hieragalbatorixdottir @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @daycourtofficial @ysmtttty @crazylokonugget @st4r-girl-official @tele86 @stargirlrchive @laughterafter @scarsandallaz @bobbyisbored @chaos-on-stand-bi @romantastyreaser28 @laylagrace403 @skysayshi If I missed you or tagged you by accident let me know.
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You laid out the floor plans in front of your mates in Eris’s office, both of them staring at the stack of scrolls. Eris was the first to move, picking up one roll,opening it, and eyeing it skeptically. You waited, hardly controlling your excitement. Your anxiety spiked however when Eris frowned. 
“You’re decorating every floor of the house?” 
“Well. Yes. But I promise it’s not as excessive as it looks.” A lie. “I planned on taking the Mabon and Equinox decorations and repurposing them. I swear I stayed under my budget.”
That made Az chuckle.
Eris, however, turned even more serious. “Who gave you a budget?” 
“I-“ his anger was palpable and you froze up, eye stinging. “I’m sorry I just. I gave myself a budget so you wouldn’t worry-“ 
“Yourself?” Eris studied you for a moment. “And no one told you to do it?”
“No.” You replied slowly. 
“Thank the gods,” Eris instantly relaxed. “I thought I would have to murder Farron.” Your confusion must have been evident. His gaze softened. “My love. You are the Lady of this court. Your word is equal to mine and Azriel’s. No one is to tell you what you can and cannot do.” 
Right. You were still getting used to it. Even mentally preparing didn’t actually help. You were used to working in the background and now? Not even been mated for half a year and advisors were asking you for opinions and orders. Which was part of the reason you had a stack of plans for the winter solstice. 
“So, does this seem reasonable?” You asked meekly. 
Eris shrugged and looked at Az. “That’s more your call.” 
“It should be fine,” Az brushed his hair back with his hand, stretching out his wings. “I trust you. Don’t think it’s lost on me you brought this up right before we head to the continent.” 
He gave you that smirk that still made your heart flutter. “I wanted it to be some of a surprise.” You shrugged, face heating. 
“As long as you don’t burn the Forest House down, I think it will be fine,” Eris got up and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “I have a meeting with the advisors. I’ll see you at dinner.” 
You waited until he left to squeal and dance in your seat. “Oh you’re both going to love it I promise.” 
“You know you’re cute when you're happy.” Az looked you over, his hazel eyes glinting. “Come here, baby.” 
You knew exactly what he was planning but playfully rolled your eyes and got on his lap. You made sure to magically lock the door first. 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
While Eris and Az were on the continent you kept yourself busy managing court and decorating. Autumn wasn’t big on the Winter Solstice. Being close to the border of Winter, some villages in the North were more festive than where you were. That made it easier to obtain some items you needed. It took a week but the decorations were finished the day before they returned. 
The day of their return you were full of jitters. You needed everything to be perfect. Especially since it was the night before the Winter solstice itself. The weather seemed to be cooperating, snow lightly falling as you waited outside on the steps for them to arrive. You wrote they had to come in through the front so you could show them in. The sun had set by the time you went out to greet them. 
You were bundled up in your furs, one of the smoke hounds, Bronte sitting by you patiently. The moment they winnowed in, his tail wagged and thumped on the steps. Eris clicked his tongue and Bronte shot off to them, having permission to jump and yelped. You laughed behind your hand as they both took turns giving him pets. 
“Did you watch over Y/N?” Eris asked, scratching his ear. 
“He was the best boy,” you grinned and Bronte barked. “Come on, it’s cold!” You dramatically shivered. 
“This is nothing,” Az grinned. “If anything this is warm to me.”
You tugged on his bond playfully. When they reached the top of the steps, you opened the door to the entrance hall. 
Az’s face lit up with a grin at the sight of the tinsel and garland running down along the walls. 
“This is nice,” he replied. You took his hand. 
“Close your eyes. I’ll walk you. There’s a surprise.”
You looked over at Eris who pretended to close his eyes but opened them to look around. You felt his bond hum with approval as you both guided Az down the hall. Az didn’t know you’d been planning this with Eris since Autumn Equinox. You had to bribe the shadows- well, you blocked them when you’d meet and talk and scold any that eavesdropped. It seemed they listened. 
Eris as High Lord never had time to make an extravagant deal about the Winter Solstice. Not in a way he felt his mate deserved. So when you asked, he immediately gave you plans he’d sat on for nearly a decade. Those same floor plans he pretended to look at a week ago. You added things, ordered the decorations with the help of Farron. Now was the moment of truth. 
You led them into the throne room and squeezed his hand. “Okay you can look now.” 
Whatever Az expected, it wasn’t what he saw. His smile faltered, true shock taking over his features. The whole throne room had multi-colored fae lights, several large evergreens placed by the windows, and garland and tinsel on the walls. His breath hitched when he saw who was standing by the fireplace and one of the trees. His mother, Feyre, Nyx, Rhysand, Cassian, and Nesta were all waiting patiently. 
Nyx, seeing his uncle’s eyes were opened, was jumping, wings flapping excitedly. “Are you surprised?!” 
“I think he is bud,” Rhys gave you all an apologetic look. 
“Wait,” Az looked at you then Eris. “You were in on this?” 
“It was his plan originally.” You grinned, squeezing his hand and tugging the bond. “I just worked my magic.” 
“She invited them,” Eris replied. You were quickly learning with you and Az, he was somewhat humble. You rolled your eyes and he added. “But I knew they’d be here.” 
“You didn’t have to do that,” Az muttered. His eyes looked a little watery. “You know I- it’s not-“
“Come on, we have presents to open.” You tugged his hand. He gave you a small smile in return for cutting in. 
Chairs appeared. You all spent the next hour chatting, passing around presents. You joked that this was Az’s present from you before handing him a wrapped box. You then had Greta, one of the maids who’d been helping you all week, bring tea. You slipped her a gift of her own as you took the trays. Eventually Nyx got restless. He started to run around the room letting shadows and Bronte chase him. His laughter echoed as did Bronte’s little barks. 
Feyre chuckled. “He’s almost 14 and he still has the energy of a toddler.” 
“He can use that energy to chase this one for me.” Nesta rubbed her stomach. She showed more than when you last saw her, the loose dress draping around her bump. “Not even big enough to fully show and they’re already kicking the shit out of me.” 
“Now why ever would anyone do that you?” Rhys muttered. 
“Don’t worry Nes. I’ll teach them to kick Rhys in the shins as soon as they walk,” Cassian gave his mate a kiss while she flipped off Rhys. 
It was late when everyone left. Az promised Feyre and Rhys they’d see them tomorrow for her birthday dinner. He also convinced his mother to stay the night and they’d winnow her home after the dinner. 
“Thank you,” Az said later in your rooms. “You didn’t have to do all that.” 
“I did too. I like the Winter Solstice. And it’s your tradition.” You shrugged. “It really was Eris’s plans.” 
“Don’t look at me like that,” Eris waved a hand at Az, who was in fact looking at him like that. “Don’t get used to it either. Next year it won’t be a surprise.”
“You’re doing this next year?” He asked, looking between the two of you. 
“If you want. Then you’ll have a whole week to enjoy the decorations instead of one day.” You smiled, pleased with yourself. “We’re a multi-cultural court now. We’re celebrating all the holidays. I’m planning The Breaking Of Dawn’s New Year as we speak.” 
“I conveniently forgot about that,” Eris muttered. 
“Says the fae male up at dawn most days anyways,” you shot him a playful look. “It’ll be fun. Thesan is sending me Dawn grapes and I have the morning feast already prepped.” 
“What are the grapes for?” Az tilted his head slightly, wings scrunching in slightly. 
“You eat 12 grapes for each month. It brings luck.” You yawned. You glanced at the clock and exhaustion hit you hard. “But can we talk about it tomorrow? I love you but I’m tired.” 
Az immediately stepped up and swept you off your feet. You yelped and Eris laughed loudly. 
“What?” Az asked as he carried you to the bed. “You said you were tired.” 
You wanted to argue and yet your mind went blank as soft brushes of shadows ran through your hair. 
“Not fair,” you muttered, your eyes suddenly feeling heavy. 
Az just hummed. You didn’t hear what else he or Eris had to say, shadows muffling sound as they put you to bed and let you drift off to sleep. 
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arcaneconfessions · 3 days ago
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I feel like everyone bitching about shipping and shipping discourse need to understand that Timebomb, Caitvi, and Jayvik, are all ships that predates Arcane as a show by years.
And the people who ship them might not even be shipping the versions of the character's that are in Arcane.
Caitvi has been a ship essentially since they debuted in LoL, Timebomb at least since Ekko got the game lines that outright state that he had a crush on Jinx before she went full mad bomber, and Jayvik at least since it was revealed in their lore to have been academic rivals turned partners turned bitter enemies.
None of the ships that started in Arcane are going to be as popular or have as much fanart/fic about them.
Like the oldest Caitvi fic I can find on AO3 is from 2014, and it's not even tagged Caitvi it's only tagged as their pre-arcane shipname of Piltover's Finest.
Oldest Jayvik fic I can see is from 2015, oldest Timebomb fic is 2016.
This doesn't even get into the fics that inevitably got deleted over the years, or were lost in the ff.net purge, or are just on fic sites I don't use like Wattpad.
Like I keep seeing people (who I can only assume are fans of just Arcane) who are acting confused by people shipping these ships because they feel the ship wasn't presented well, or convincing to them personally in Arcane.
As if all three of these ships don't predates Arcane by years, and Caitvi in particular is at least a decade old, and the other two aren't far behind.
I feel like a number of people who were either introduced to these characters via Arcane or have only ever interacted with the Arcane part of the expanded canon, are failing to understand that a number of people who ship Jayvik, Caitvi, and Timebomb were shipping those ships before Arcane was even announced.
Or that might not even be shipping the versions of the character's that are in Arcane, but in one of the many skin line AUs.
I mean my favorite iteration of Caitvi are the <3 skin AU, where they're a pair of highschoolers who are starcrossed due to being in different cliques, with Caitlyn being a preppy good girl, while Vi is a trouble making skater girl.
Because it's a cute au where neither are cops. I mean look at these two:
https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/leagueoflegends/images/2/24/Vi_HeartacheSkin.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20230208202510
It's great.
And maybe it's lame of me to pick the AU with the lowest stakes, but acab, and this is like one of three skin line AUs where they aren't cops, and also they canonically write love letters to each other and go on secret picnics in this AU.
While I honestly don't think Arcane Vi is in any kind of headspace to try to be starting a romantic relationship for basically the entire show. And Caitlyn isn't really either in season 2.
But that's one of the good things about Riot.
They've made a number of AUs where these two characters aren't the the mentally unstable and grieving women they are in Arcane. Where they can be in a healthy and happy relationship with no relationship based strife.
Arcane fans need to expand their horizons, and stop assuming the worst about each other based on who they ship is basically what I'm saying.
Also people complaining about the multiverse being brought into Arcane in season 2, should come to terms with the fact that the idea of multiverse and alternate timelines have also explored in LoL expanded canon before Arcane.
That's basically the logic that the skin line AUs exist under.
.
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candyheartedchy · 24 hours ago
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Saw a post talking about this, but I didn’t want to reblog and ramble in the tags of said post, so I’m bring it up here about the whole situation when it comes to people messaging first or not when it comes to their friends.
I struggle a lot with anxiety and constantly worrying that I’m bothering people when I reach out to talk first that 97% of the time I end up not messaging people at all. I’ve been trying to push myself out of my comfort zone when it comes to this, and getting better, when it comes to sending the first message because I want to let folks know that I do genuinely enjoy our conversations and want to be friends with them. But because of my past situations I end up falling back into the habit of isolating myself because I’m familiar with doing it to cope.
In a way I want to let folks know that when they message me first, I’m always excited to hear from them! And also to reassure anyone that may worry about bothering me. I promise y’all aren’t. There will be times that my text pattern might be different in tone, but that’s just me being tired and awkward.
Heck I’m always surprise when anyone really wants to talk to me in general because I usually get ignored irl. And if I’m being honest, I see a lot of you as my friends, but I’m always nervous to bring up the title because I’m not sure if it’s just one sided or I’m just projecting out of loneliness. So whenever someone says we’re friends I get caught off guard because I haven’t had any in so long.
Basically this is just me throwing in my two cents about people who try to test their friendship on how much people really care or not when it comes to who’s messaging first. I do agree that both parties should try to reach out to each other as much as they can to let each other know they do care. But I also want to bring up that a lot of times most of us struggle with reaching out due to trauma that relates to past friendships not going well and worrying about having those same experiences again. But also lot of folks are afraid to reach out first because they don’t want to embarrass themselves when it comes to making friends or losing that chance because they never had the experience of having a friend before. And I’m saying this from my own experience.
In the end I think if you really care about your friends, just communicate. And reassure the ones that reach out first that even though you struggle with talking, you still appreciate them and also just remind them that you like them because they worry about bothering you too. Because most of us don’t have any friends irl and our online friends are all we have. So even when others try to say that online friendships don’t count, they are missing the whole point of what friendships really is.
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wellofdean · 21 hours ago
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So, I read the response above which is so interesting, and I want to keep thinking about it, and then after that had these interesting tags in my feed from @bloodyentrails...
#i think that sam being compassionate towards certain people is kinda normal we tend to relate on a personal level#and him being queer-coded etc doesn't mean you have to care about him#just that that is a thing?#idk what kind of discourse i'm wandering into a lot of the time but relating to characters#and understanding they have been written in a certain way isn't the same thing#which is to say that i would love it if the writing had tackled that inconsistency#but i find that the show on the whole is inconsistent#and i think it's hard to maintain consistency over so many years with so many people working on it#i do think both of them are *trying* to be good people and they sometimes fail and also what constitutes a good person is kinda open#anyway#bear in mind i'm still only halfway through so#maybe i'll change my mind on all this#spn
It's a point worth considering that in the world of the show, Sam's sympathy for monsters seems principled and some how defies gravity, but that in the real world it wouldn't translate to anything real; that's likely true, and an interesting point. Having said that, I think Sam is pretty clearly not particularly"real world" compassionate, and I don't need monsters to make the argument that Sam is not the compassionate one because he shows a general lack of empathy towards PEOPLE, including but by no means limited to Dean, throughout the show. And, ok, he sometimes argues for a compassionate response to monsters and Dean doesn't always respond favourably, but that's because Sam fears he is one, and he needs to believe monsters are not all bad, which is not borne out of compassion, it's a rationalization that serves his psychological needs.
Basically, I think Sam is all surface. Sam is the urbane one, the smart one, the compassionate one, the one who talks nice to people, the broadly queer-coded one, the feminist, etc., but with Sam, all that is skin deep. He APPEARS as such! He's good at pretending, but he's nearly as savage as John is, Dean is much more sensitive to other people's needs, Dean is every bit as clever as he is, and intuitive to boot, Sam can ACT compassionate, but in fact he isn't really very empathetic to anyone, and he is able to just move on from all the things Dean just can't, Sam's not in fact queer, but Dean is queered to his fucking bones, and Sam's the one whose unconsciously replicated misogyny allows him to think any woman that would be into Dean is obviously a whore, and to keep his girlfriend in the dark about the truth of his life, while Dean is just talking a big game of cartoon misogyny TO SAM while treating the women he interacts with pretty fucking respectfully, actually.
Honestly, it's the same as the way Sam is supposedly the 'main character'. He's introduced as the one we should care about and identify with, but within, like, two episodes, he's really just a foil for Dean. Sam has BIG PLOTS, but it's Dean's feelings, reactions and relationships we really care about.
And, the fact is, Sam was pretty well-realized in the earlier eps. JarPad was giving it some effort, and he was charming then with his boyishness -- the way he seemed like he hadn't fully lived into his physical real estate -- but the thing is, he never could really hold a candle to Dean who was just magnetic. All the interesting character development was given to Dean and Jensen killed it by always making it seem like Dean had so much going on under the surface, and like, to the extent I care about Sam, it's because Dean loves him.
I kind of wonder what happened. Was Dean always meant to be the dark horse hero? Or was Dean just...played by a better, more compelling actor, and they started writing for him instead? There are so many much more interesting things they could have done with Sam, and they just...DIDN'T.
I dunno, I suppose it could just be me, but I feel like the way Sam just SEEMS, Dean IS.
maybe this is me being a dumb overly literal autist stemlord who simply does not understand literary theory or some shit equivalent but why should i care about someone being coded as [X] when i can just. care about someone who is [X]. why should i care more about the conventionally attractive white woman with a job and mortgage because she's metaphorically othered due to being a supernatural creature when i could care about the actually othered addicts that she used as a source of food. help me out here.
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wandascosmic · 19 hours ago
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Would you write something where Wanda and reader just have like a slow morning. They don’t have anywhere to be and reader just wakes up to see Wanda staring at her and it’s just so sweet. Feel free to add your own ideas too!
slow mornings (request)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: in which you have your first day off in a year, and you and your wife decide to spend it in the best way possible.
word count: 733
tags: unedited, fluff, meet-cute, business major history, domestic wanda and reader, soft wanda and reader, slow mornings with our favorite couple, wanda has a staring problem
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Wanda must have looked crazy, staring at you, her wife, for the past 20 minutes. Just watching your chest rise and fall in a slow, rhythmic state as you slept peacefully. Devoid of all the stress that usually plagued your face at your high-stakes job working as a company’s CEO. 
Wanda never wanted to leave, she felt completely content, having been married to you for the past five years, she never wanted it to end. 
Watching your expression, she reflected on your relationship’s history. 
You had met Wanda fresh out of college, during the first week of the master’s program you two had both been accepted to, one of the most competitive in the country.
Wanda was focusing more on the management portion, while you were learning more analysis topics. 
Sprinting as fast as you could to your most important class which you were unfortunately already late for since the bus got delayed, you accidentally bumped into a redhead on your way, dropping both your books and hers in the process. 
Widening your eyes, you ran back towards the figure. “Oh, my god! I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that. I’m just stressed and–” 
The figure gave you a reassuring smile, causing every word that wanted to come out to die in your throat. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice silky smooth as she handed you your books back. “I’m Wanda.” 
Nodding, you wordlessly took your books back, confused as the figure gave you an expectant look. “Um, oh! I’m Y/N. Studying business analysis.” You held out your hand for her to shake. 
“Nice to meet you,” Wanda responded. “Business Administration.”
“Wow, that’s– wow.” You acknowledged, seeing as that was the best program your school had to offer. Should you even be talking to her?
Wanda laughed. “It’s nothing. My greatest accomplishment is my coffee job on the side, with my twin brother. Want one?” 
“Um– what?” you asked.
“A coffee,” Wanda smiled. “Have you heard of Sokovian Sweets? Down the street?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, I love them. They have the best hot chocolate,” you said in recognition. 
“Thanks,” Wanda nodded. “Pietro’s working the shop today, come on!” 
Wanda grabbed your hand and began to lead you in the direction of her and her brother’s store. 
“Um I really shouldn’t–” you protest. 
“Don’t worry, it’ll all be worth it!” Wanda reassured, never letting go of your hand. 
And it all was, because 4 years later, she became your wife. 
Wanda smiles as you begin to stir, slowly coming to your senses. 
With your eyes still closed, you reach towards your wife, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. 
“You know, it’s rude to stare,” you say, feeling a pair of green eyes watching you. 
“Can’t help it,” Wanda shrugs. “It’s called appreciating your wonderful wife.” 
Turning over to face your wife, you slowly open your eyes and greet her with a smile. “Hi,” you say softly. 
“Hey,” she responds gently, giving you a kiss on your forehead. 
“How long have you been awake?” you ask, moving to rest your head in the crook of Wanda’s neck, to which she immediately responds with her arm around your waist. 
“Not long, I spent most of it admiring you.” 
“You know, 5 years of marriage and I don’t think you’ve ever lost your ability to flirt with me in new ways every morning.” 
“It comes pretty easy when you’ve got a pretty wife in bed next to you,” Wanda responds.
You hum, closing your eyes as you feel yourself relax in Wanda’s arms. “What are we doing today?” you ask. 
“Well, Pietro wants me to drop off some cookies at the coffee shop later today, but we don’t have to, I can just get Sam to pick them up since I made them last night.” 
You laugh. “Oh, yeah, forgot Sam owes you for nearly burning down your kitchen last month.” 
Wanda groans. “How can someone mess up French onion soup that bad! He burned the broth somehow!”
 You kiss Wanda’s cheek. “Let Sam know, I have my first day off all year and I want to spend every minute of it with you.” You wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and snuggle into her chest, dozing off once more. 
“You got it,” Wanda agrees, kissing the top of your head before texting Sam, and going back to sleep alongside her wife.
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aventurineswife · 2 days ago
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So uh. I love your attempt on dadchurin so I will show this. I sort of did this with my personal ocxcanon with Aven's OC yumechild (she has siblings, one of which isn't an Avgin) but maybe you can whip up something similar with this prompt of his child saying they're proud of him and is glad they have matching eyes with him
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“The coolest eyes of the bestest Dad in the universe!”
Summary: Aventurine shares a heartfelt interaction with his child, who proudly declares their love for their shared eyes and unwavering support for their "coolest dad in the universe." Beneath Aventurine's usual flamboyance, he grapples with the unexpected warmth and hope his child brings to his guarded heart.
Tags: Aventurine and his child, Fluff, Parent-Child Bonding, Emotional Vulnerability, Protective Child, Hidden Soft Side.
Warnings: Mentions of Aventurine’s guarded nature and emotional struggles (light emotional themes).
A/N: ☹️the drawing is so cute!🥺💕, I hope you enjoy this!
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The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the elegant curtains, casting golden light across the room. Aventurine stood at the polished bar, his fingers tracing the edge of a fine glass, an enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his lips. The room was filled with the subtle elegance he was so accustomed to—luxurious, but devoid of anything truly personal. Yet, something about the quiet hum of the evening made him feel a flicker of something deeper than usual.
"Papa, look!" A voice called out, filled with infectious enthusiasm. Aventurine's attention snapped to the source of the interruption.
There, standing with hands on hips and an expression of utmost determination, was his child—a bundle of energy with the same captivating magenta and cyan eyes that Aventurine himself wore like a mask. The child was grinning, eyes gleaming as if they held the secret to the universe.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Aventurine’s voice carried his usual smooth, playful tone, though there was a hint of curiosity.
“I love having these eyes!” The child exclaimed, bouncing on their feet. “After all, it’s the same coolest eyes as the bestest dad in the universe!”
Aventurine’s heart fluttered in surprise, his gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. The statement hit him like a stray dart, its sincerity unexpected. He blinked, his usual bravado slipping for a moment as he looked into his child's face. He saw the same fire, the same spark that had driven him to succeed, to survive. But hearing it from someone else, especially from someone so young, left him momentarily speechless.
“You... you think so?” Aventurine’s voice wavered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure, flashing that signature smile. Still, his eyes betrayed the depth of emotion he rarely allowed himself to show.
“Of course, Papa!” The child puffed out their chest with pride, throwing their arms wide as if the universe itself should take note of the revelation. “And if anyone makes fun of me and my papa, I can punch them! Like this!” The child swung an exaggerated punch into the air, their voice rising with enthusiasm. “Pow! How dare they!”
Aventurine couldn’t suppress a laugh, though it was laced with a touch of disbelief. He shook his head, an affectionate warmth creeping into his expression. “Sweetheart, please, don’t go punching anyone... Your parent would be mad. Do that less, hmm?”
The child beamed, as if the very idea of protecting their father with such boisterous force was the most natural thing in the world. “But they’re bad if they say mean stuff, Papa! No one gets to mess with you!” They beamed up at him with unrestrained joy.
Aventurine chuckled, though there was a bittersweet edge to it, as if the weight of his past experiences was briefly lifting. He crouched down to meet the child’s eyes, gazing into those familiar magenta and cyan depths that mirrored his own. "You’ve got my eyes," he said softly, his tone almost reverent. “You know, these eyes have seen things most can’t even imagine... But seeing them on you makes me believe there’s hope."
The child tilted their head, clearly unsure of what to make of such a statement but brimming with love. “I like our eyes. They make me feel strong! Just like you, Papa.”
Aventurine’s heart stirred, the walls he so carefully built around himself threatening to crumble under the weight of his emotions. He smiled, a genuine curve of his lips. "And I’m proud of you," he said, his voice low and tender, a rare admission. "You’re stronger than you know, sweetheart."
The child’s eyes sparkled as they hugged him tightly, nearly knocking him off balance. “I’m glad I have the coolest dad in the universe!”
Aventurine stood up straight, one hand resting on the back of their head, holding them close as if he feared they might disappear in an instant. "You’ve always been the best part of my world," he whispered softly, the words barely a breath between them.
For once, the game of chance and strategy didn’t matter. In this quiet moment, Aventurine felt something that had eluded him for so long—a sense of purpose that wasn’t defined by survival or manipulation. It was defined by connection, by a child who believed in him more than anyone ever had.
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axolotl4days · 11 hours ago
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Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam
What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)
And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)
Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.
Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.
If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept
I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned
Damian POV:
It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.
He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.
The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.
But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.
As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.
As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.
At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.
Later that day
"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy
"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied
"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."
"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale
"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked
"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale
"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word
Alfred's POV:
'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.
There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe
"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says
"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks
"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies
Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room
"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states
"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts
"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments
"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses
"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused
"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is
"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks
"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said
"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh
"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"
"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away
"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."
Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is
The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery
Y/n POV:
Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.
Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-
"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump
She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them
"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?
"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation
"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much
The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal
"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand
"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand
The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area
"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies
"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."
"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause
"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says
"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving
'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry
Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha
I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long
So I'm stopping it there,
This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon
Also I've decided to call this au
Batman Dead Daughter Au
Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.
As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff
Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character
I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny
Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part
And fanfiction is a bit different
Hope yall like the concept tho
Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol
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valentine-cafe · 1 day ago
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i have been SOOOO excited waiting for yall to post takara and yall didnt disappoint <3
could iiiii perhaps req smth like her chasing us down, lil bit of silly pred/prey yk! some sort of base instinct to pin you down, have his way w you, and to get their teeth digging into you if only you’d just stay still… but that’s what usually what makes the victory all the sweeter :3
˖⁺. “ catch me if you can ” :
﹙ kitsune bf x gn afab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁ 
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. . . verse 9948e takara x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ kitsune  ˖ mercenary character ﹚
dating a kistune is fun and all until you remember how much he loves chasing you down and fucking you raw
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﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ predator/prey ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ scratching ˖ biting | wc : 1.4k 
﹙ receipts ﹚: sorryy this took so long but we hope it's to your liking!
꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱
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You had never truly caught onto it. . . How your kitsune boyfriend stared away at you with hunger in his eyes everytime you playfully ran from him.
It itched away at him. Instincts kicking away at each part of his body to chase you down and grab you, fuck you into the ground while you moan and scream out his name.
He’s dreamt about it. He dreams about it. To sink his teeth into your flesh and claw away at you when you don’t want to lay still below him- wriggling around on the ground whilst pathetically whimpering out his name over and over. Your brain dumb and only focused on the feel of his cock splitting you open.
“It’s simple rules.”
Before you stands your kitsune boyfriend, with his fox smile widening as he begins to explain the little game he has been waiting for you to participate in.
“Just think a normal game of tag. But, when I catch you. . . “ He hums, tapping at the bottom of his chin with his index to pause his speech.
You tilt your head, blinking your eyes together as you let out a small yawn, before opening them up once more to see he has disappeard from his spot.
“Takara—” He could squeal at the sound of wild confusion in your voice. Most would think you would be used to the shenanigans of your boyfriend by now, but in honesty, you don’t think you could ever could with the tricks he pulls on you every day.
One second he is gone and the next you yelp as he appears out of thin air from behind you. Head of pink, fluffy hair nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He lets out a little fox laugh.
Before the thought of giving him a little scolding even passes through your mind, your hands stand from anticipation at the words crooned in your ears: “I get to fuck you into the ground. Until we are both exhausted and messy.”
Your entire face heats up like the fires of the home of the fire elementals, while your breath hitches and instinctively, you grab onto his robes from behind. Knuckles turning white from the newfound excitement rushing through you.
                                                                 . . . fast foward !! 🍒 :
  Ragged breaths escape you as your lungs feel like their life is being squeezed out of them. Sore feet thud against the dirt covered ground of the mushroom forest that the kitsune resides in.
Places such as these you do not have to worry about being caught by other spiritfolk, they tend to stay away from the mushroom forests.
Although Takara would not care much should a lonesome traveller come stumbling by and catching the sight of him pounding you from behind on a large mushroom puffing out aphrodisiac dust.
The laughs of the kitsune echoes throughout the forest, light footsteps right behind you at all times. It is as though he is right on your footsteps, ready to grab at the fabric of your clothes and drag you backwards. Take you right then and there.
And you do indeed spot them in your peripheral vision.
Yelping, you turn your heel and try to rush to the right. But they pounce on you just before you can make a quicker run for it.
He has to admit, you last longer than he though you would. There is not much time to think on that matter either, hands too busy ripping away at your pants and underwear to get through to your drooling cunt. Slick with arousal and anticipation.
Why, he hasn’t even touched you intimately yet and your pretty cunt is fluttering like he is balls deep inside already, thrusting away at it to draw out long the delicious sounds she makes for him.
“Fuck, dariin. . . Lay — Lay still” He huffs, eyes feral like a crazed man’s. Pink tails sway from side to side violently, while the pink of their irises drowns out with the expanding pupils. “Look at her, already crying for me.”
The groans he manages to perform draws out plenty of whines and sounds from you, that has him undoing his kimono as quickly as he possibly can. Freeing the hard cock which previously struggled in the confined space of fabrics upon fabrics.
You squirm, as if trying to keep the game going for the thrill of it. However your boyfriend above doesn’t take any of it. His hand pushing you back down onto the ground whilst lining up his cock to your entrance, collecting slick and mixing it with his precum.
Who is he trying to fool. You barely need to be prepped with how wet you are — The most infurating thing is that you keep moving and squirming
“I said lay still — Stop fucking moving.”
His chest crashes into your back. Squeezing you further down against the mossy ground. While his hands hurry and lift your hips. Parting your legs like it’s his job.
Splitting your walls apart, he helps you arch your back to press you a little closer. Setting a fast and animalistic pace for you as he fucks into you. With his whines and whimpers scattering out into the forest and farther. Let the world hear how he makes moans rip out of you.
“Takara!!” You cry out, hands struggling to find a spot to grip. Hair? Tails? Back? It’s too hard to decide when your brains feel like they’re already fucked half-way out. His hips smacking against yours and sending you straight to the apex point of pleasure.
He’s always fucked you open in a way that made you lose yourself completely. But this? Gods. Poor cunt is clenching onto him for dear life.
“Just look at her. Taking me— hnhhhnghn!! takinggg me so — hah- hgnhe ha- well!” He moans out. Humping away at that one bundle of nerves that twists at your tummy and threatens a slew of cum to squirt out of you every second now.
“S-so soffaaaaaaaast— K-Kara— KaraaA! pp-pleas-s-zzzzzzzzeeee! mmmgnh! Harder!!” It’s like ecstasy. Your little please. They shoot straight to his head pulling away all of the self-restraint he may have hung onto an inch.
He can’t just not listen to you right? Oh he fucks hard, giving you it all. His cock pulsating inside of you and squirting out strings of cum each time he feels the flutter of your walls around him and then clench that comes after.
The way that one vein on his cock feels brushing up against one of the nerves forces your head to limp. Hanging from his arm, while your jaw grows slack.
Your vision white with the pleasure coursing through you, and this is only the first round. Goodness, you have no idea how you are going to keep up with him when he’s fucking you like this.
“That’s it that’s it— yes” With strained encouragement he pulls the orgasm out of you. Settling the pace for a slightly slower one. Only for him to go back the second you whine in protest.
“So good at taking it baby, so good. Like it when I fuck you right here huh?”
His nails scratch across the flesh of your thighs, leaving the smallest of tears in your skin. Oh the prettiest droplets of maroon trickle down the delicate skin. It is too much to handle, the smell is intoxicating too. . . A bite wouldn’t be so bad either right?
Pain mixes with pleasure, distracting you from the momentary feel of teeth biting down against your shoulder. Only when you hear the muffled fox-like whines tumble out of your boyfriend’s mouth do you realise he’s biting you — the sight itself has you groaning out and crying from the pleasure.
His name leaves you thousands of time in a row, they’d be millions by the time he is finished with you.
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doeidawn · 2 days ago
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doeidawn's kinkmas day nine ❆ mirror sex
KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY
getting ready for a friend's christmas party turns out to be difficult when gaz keeps interrupting. 1.5k
❆ pairing: gaz x fem!reader
❆ tags: MDNI/18+; cheeky kyle; fingering; praise; watching yourself/mirror sex
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“Kyle, darling, do I look alright?” You call out from the bathroom in hopes that your boyfriend was nearby to hear it. After one too many internal debates about how you looked, you decided it was best to call in the man who never got tired of looking at you. Granted, he’d say you looked good no matter what, but a little confidence boost wouldn’t hurt.
Especially not when you wanted to cringe at the anxiety in your gaze staring back at you in the mirror. Huffing a sigh and running your hands over your dress did little to soothe your raging nerves. It felt like being an insecure teenager all over again—Am I overdressed? Is this too much makeup? Will this still look good with a jacket? The internal monologue was never-ending and consistently annoying. All it did was eat up time that quickly ticked away as the Christmas party grew closer.
The soft patter of footsteps comes from the side before Kyle appears in your peripheral, standing in the doorway to the bathroom. You find his lack of response…odd. Unlike him. Looking over at him, you find his eyes looking at just about every part of you that wasn’t your face.
“Kyle,” you call out again, softer this time, hoping it’ll grab his attention. When he still doesn’t make eye contact, only humming in response as his gaze lingers on your chest, you relent. “Is this…okay? Do I look alright?”
That makes him look you in the eye. He stares at you for a moment before sauntering into the room. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he settles behind you, resting his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He holds your gaze in the mirror, soft brown eyes boring into you. 
“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’?” He gestures vaguely to the reflections.
“I think so.”
“Then you should know you look fuckin’ gorgeous,” the last half of his sentence is muffled against your neck as he dips his head to plant a kiss on your soft skin. “You could rival a damn princess lookin’ like this, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Well, I don’t know about that. But thank you.”
“Well, I do.” His kisses turn heavier, wet flicks of his tongue, as his hands skirt down to your hips. “I almost don’t wanna leave now. I want my princess all to myself.”
“Kyle—”
“I know, I’m a selfish bastard aren’t I?” His teeth brush against the curve of your jaw, nipping playfully. “But I can’t help it when you look this good.”
“Going to the party was your idea,” you remind him with a playful nudge of your elbow. “I regret asking for your input. Go on, I need to finish getting ready.”
“...What else d’you need to do?”
“My hair’s a mess.” You gesture to your head like the thought is obvious. To you, it was. Though you had a tendency to nitpick your looks in time like these. 
Kyle studies your reflection for a moment, an incredulous look on his face like he can’t figure out what else you could possibly do to your hair. “That’s fine,” he shrugs. “You can do your hair.”
But he doesn’t slip away like you’d intended him to do. Instead, he keeps his hands planted firmly on you, running them up and down your sides, trailing over your curves like he hasn’t touched them countless times before. You stand and wait for him to move away, but it never happens.
“Kyle.”
“Mm?”
“Are you gonna let me finish getting ready?”
“I am letting you finish.” He says it so matter-of-factly. “Go on and do your hair. I can keep my hands down here,” he emphasizes by groping a handful of your ass, “and stay out of your way.”
You didn’t believe that for one damn minute. Staying out of your way wasn’t possible when he got his hands on you. What would start out as innocent touches and “no, baby, we don’t have to fuck, just let me feel you up,” would turn into desperate sex in the blink of an eye. You weren’t very good at keeping yourself from getting distracted, and he was perfect at grabbing your attention. 
…So maybe that’s why you didn’t question it when hands on your hips turned to one dipped beneath your dress. And why kisses on your neck turned to filthy words in your ear. You had barely done anything to your hair before he got you distracted. 
“Ky’...” You whined while trying to keep yourself stood straight. “I need to finish up.”
His fingers ran over your slit, spreading you open as they glided through the slick arousal clinging to your skin. Your clit was already swollen and puffy from where he’d been teasing you while you tried to focus. His fingertips circle your entrance and you nearly feel your knees buckle underneath your.
“‘M not stoppin’ you, love.” He mutters against your temple before kissing the sweat on your brow. 
“Yes you are…fuck, you’re teasin’ me like a bastard…”
“Not my fault you can’t focus.”
Your retort is interrupted by a shameless moan as his fingers slide inside you, embarrassingly easy thanks to how wet you were. You have to lean over the countertop to hold yourself up as your knees go weak. How the hell he didn’t find himself distracting was beyond you; burying his fingers to the knuckle inside you didn’t exactly help you get ready any quicker. 
Looking in the mirror before you, you found Kyle practically studying your face. He watched the way your lips fell open and your eyes fluttered when he pushed deep. It’s almost like he was testing what reactions he could get out of you. Curling and twisting and pressing his fingers, he wanted to see you squirm.
He settles his chin on your shoulder, smiling when you lean your head against his. “Look at you, there’s my pretty girl,” the smooth softness of his voice makes your cunt flutter around his digits. 
His lips hit your cheek in a soft peck, the complete opposite of the intensity in his eyes. You felt like he wanted to devour you, lil you’d never leave this bathroom again if he could have things his way. A Christmas party was the last thing on your mind despite still being dressed up for it. The more he touched you, the insistent pressure against that sweet spot deep in your cunt, the more you wanted to stay home with him. 
“Fuck, you’re annoying, you know that?” You huff between moans. There’s no real bite to it, and he knows that—the tight hug of your slick walls around his fingers proved that plenty true. 
Kyle chuckles in your ear. “Ah, you love it.” You did, but you’d never admit it. Especially not when you were trying to prove a point about wasting time. “Love it when I give my princess what she needs, huh?”
His fingers curl just right, focusing in on that spot that made you jerk on every thrust. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, knuckles white as you grip the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for his hand supporting you, you might’ve stumbled on your weak legs. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, blown-out pupils staring back at you, painted lips stuck under teeth as you bite your lip.
“Yeah, look at yourself, baby.” His encouragement is enough to convince you despite how awkward it feels at first. “Look how pretty you are when you cum for me.” 
You can feel his eyes on you, see him in your peripheral, his gaze branding you like an iron as he worked you over the edge. It was strange watching your mouth drop as a sharp moan poured from your throat, seeing your body quiver as you jerked into his hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to watch your entire orgasm hit you, too overwhelmed by the constant fullness that sent sparks through your body. 
Thankfully, Kyle seemed more concerned with making your pleasure last instead of policing where your eyes were. He battered that soft, sensitive spot, groaning in your ear when you soaked his hand in your cum. He kept himself pressed close, an arm wrapped around you to support your weight in case you needed it. 
An almost smothering amount of kisses covered the side of your face, trailing from your temple to the curve of your neck. It was almost like he wanted to keep you distracted with the sensation as he slid his fingers out of you. A soft pat to your thigh and he’s pulling your dress back into place like nothing happened. You stare at your reflection for a moment, noticing the slight smudges of makeup where his lips brushed over your skin and the small red marks he left spackled along your neck.
“C’mon,” he sighs with one last kiss to your cheek. “We better get goin’. Don’t wanna keep anyone waiting, yeah?” He slinks out of the bathroom before you can catch your breath and respond. So much for looking nice.
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umathurwin · 5 hours ago
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get what i want ’cause i ask for it (not because i’m really that deserving of it)
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rafe cameron x f!reader; nsfw 18+
Summary: Rafe is so close to receiving the CEO title of his father’s company, he can taste it. But before he can have his dream job, he has to complete the most grueling task he’s ever been given: watch over the bratty heiress of their partner company, who’s decided to make his life hell.
He’s persistent. But so is she.
A/N: tags, warnings, and more on ao3!
“So,” Rafe started, striding into his father’s office and getting way too comfortable in the chair. Ward’s clients would expect nothing less than Memory Foam under their pompous asses, of course– how could you not sink down and kick your feet on the desk? “What’s next for me? Corner office with big windows? Company Lexus? A solid-gold bathroom?”
“I’ll be frank. What the hell are you talking about?”
“When I’m CEO of Cameron Development. Duh. I’ve been hearing the rumors about Maurice retiring, and you’re gonna need someone to fill his role…”
“Easy . You haven’t even been working here a whole year,” Ward reminded him, smacking the peppermint gum Rafe hated. “And your office has big windows!”
“I’m just being cliche. It’s the title that I really want, Dad.”
“Why should I give it to you, though? You’re barely even old enough to be out of college, if you’d gone.”
It stung, when his father reminded him that he hadn’t gone to school. He swallowed anyway. “Don’t need to, not with my work ethic. I take the job you gave me really seriously. All the departments love me, we’ve had great numbers the last three quarters, I’ve secured five deals that we’ve missed out on in the past,” he ticked off. “Tell me why you shouldn’t give it to me.”
Ward leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk rapidly. “Okay, you’re right. I agree. And I actually think I have something in mind that’ll really prove to me you’re worthy of totally running this company with the CEO title.”
Rafe all but purred. “Name it.”
“I should warn you, this is… probably gonna be the ultimate test of how loyal you are to Cameron Development.”
“Jesus, am I gonna have to fight a Jedi, or something?”
“Remember when I ran errands when you were younger, and you acted like it was inhumane torture to watch Sarah for 45 minutes?”
He sulked, already rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. “Oh God. You hired her, too, didn’t you? And here I thought my job was a special offer. Are you giving one to my cousin Tristan, too? Y’know he sits down when he pees?”
“I’m not hiring your sister. Or… your cousin,” Ward sighed. “We have a huge offer coming up soon. We’re teaming up with Kerrington Design to build on the northern side of the island, meaning we’d have properties in every zone. I cannot stress enough how important this bid is, Rafe. Josephine Kerrington will be working with us for the next month or so while we iron out details.”
“This all sounds great so far,” Rafe said. “Where do I come in?”
“Josephine mentioned that she was bringing her young daughter, and that she doesn’t feel comfortable with her being alone. I offered for you to watch over her while she’s here.”
“What?!”
“Look, I know you—”
“Hate dealing with kids? Yeah, I do,” he groaned. “Dad, you realize I have actual work to do around here? I have that O’Brien meeting coming up! How am I supposed to get stuff done with someone playing Webkinz in my office?”
“You love Webkinz.”
“Good Lord. Sure, when I was six!”
“Like I said before,” Ward started, tone carrying a warning out to his son that matched his tilted head, “this is an ultimate test. I’m counting on you to be a good babysitter.” Ward’s phone trilled, forcing a wince onto Rafe’s face, and the older man leaned forward to glance at the screen. “Ah. That’s her now. They’ll be arriving today, so be on the lookout for them, eh?”
Rafe stood up, smoothing out his pants. “Yeah, well, if there’s gonna be a child on the premises, I’m getting a cup of coffee right now.”
“Probably a good idea,” Ward conceded lowly, waving his son out of his office. “Mrs. Kerrington, good morning, it’s so great to hear from you…”
Rafe stepped out and went to the floor’s coffee station, noting an unfamiliar young woman getting herself a cup from the stack of thick cardboard. The company rarely hired people under the age of 25, so he was pleasantly surprised to see someone his own age.
“Morning,” he greeted to get her to turn around, and fuck, she was cute. “I don’t recognize you. New here?”
“You could say that,” the girl cocked her head a little. “Do you know every person who works here?”
He smiled. “Oh, I do a lot of paperwork on all levels. Surely I would’ve remembered you.”
She returned his grin. “You’re sweet. I’m Y/N.”
“My name’s Rafe. Your morning been good so far?”
“So far,” she repeated him in response, returning to her empty cup. “How about yourself?”
“Fine. Just dreading later,” he sighed, reaching behind the supplies in the cabinet to find the mug he’d hidden back there.
She made a little humming noise. “Why? What’s later?”
“Ah, nothing, I just have to babysit some CEO’s daughter for a few weeks. I hope to God I’ll be able to get any work done with a kid running around here, but I’ve got a little sister. I think I’ll be fine.”
The girl nodded, a little slowly to be seen as normal, but she was cute enough that he brushed it off. His eyes trailed down to where she was about to pour the coffee into her cup and he reached out to hold her wrist and stop her actions. “Wait, whoa!”
She gasped, jumping back. “Hey, watch it!” she shook her head, pouring her cup while still a few feet away from him. “It’s hot coffee, dude. What’s your deal?”
“If you pour the powder creamer first, it dissolves when you pour the coffee in,” he explained, shaking his head. “Too late now. You shoulda listened to me.”
“Well, it really doesn’t matter when y’all have thousands of these,” she reached for a coffee stirrer. “You micromanage a lot of shit around here, or am I special?”
He scoffed. “I practically run this place, sweetheart. You should be thanking me for bestowing my wisdom on you. Now, don’t you have something, I dunno, administrative to do?”
“Administrative?” the girl parroted, setting down the stirrer. Her tone was amused, but her eyebrows were still in her hairline. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to women like that?”
“My step-mother,” he corrected, “is a useless witch. So, no.”
Her mouth fell open. “I guess this company is run by an absolute pig.”
He clenched his jaw. Who is this girl, and how dare she speak to him like that? “You better watch how you talk to me before I–”
“Rafe!” Ward called, interrupting his son’s threat and joining the two young adults at the coffee bar. “I see you’ve already met your partner for the next few weeks. How are you, Miss Kerrington?” he turned to warmly address her, reaching out to take her hand politely and shake it. He either didn’t notice the horrific tension between them or was desperately trying to cut it.
The girl smiled. “I’m doing just fine, Mr. Cameron.”
“Please, call me Ward,” he insisted, stepping aside to grab a cardboard cup.
Rafe finally found his voice. “So, Josephine Kerrington…” he started, anxiously looking between her and his father.
“Is my mother,” Y/N finished, tilting her head smugly. “Rafe, was it? Why don’t you show me to your office?”
***
He tried to keep his back straight as he showed her where he worked, and she looked around nosily the second she was inside. While she snooped around his belongings and photos, he took another look at her.
She was wearing a lavender floral dress that was just too short to be considered professional, though those rules clearly didn’t apply to her. When she spun back around to look at him, he had to snap his gaze back up quickly to not reveal he’d been staring at her ass.
“So, Y/N,” he started sheepishly. She set her coffee on the table and he ran over to put a coaster under it. “I think we got off on the wrong foot—“
“Water under the bridge,” she interrupted. “Could you Airdrop the Wifi?”
Rafe stared at her face, expecting her to burst out laughing at him. “I understand all of those words, separately.”
She sighed. “You have wireless internet here, no?”
“We do.”
“And I assume it’s password protected?”
“That’d be a correct assumption.”
“And I also bet it’s harder to type than ‘cameronwifi’?”
He scrunched his face. “It’s some combination of letters and numbers, so yeah.”
She pressed her lips together. “Figured. Open up contacts on your phone.”
Rafe obeyed, though he didn’t know why. Curiosity, maybe? She put in her number then guided him to the Wifi tab and held her phone up. The password to the internet auto-filled on her device and she was already skipping away to use it.
“What? I don’t get a ‘thank you’?” he snorted, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Why? You didn’t even do anything!” She flopped on the couch. “Feel free to text me, now that you’ve got my number.”
He scoffed. “Are you hitting on me?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, nerd. If I did hit on you, I’d probably comment on your Marlon Brando slicked hair. Heavy gel, in this decade, it’s a sexy and modern choice.”
There was no holding back now. “You’re a brat.”
“Get used to it.”
“Why should I? It’s not like you do anything.”
“You say that like I’m not important.”
“Of course you’re not important here. You—You don’t even have a title!”
“Ah, that’s just not true,” she corrected. “I’m a CTA. Chief Tactics Associate.”
Rafe rubbed at his forehead. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means what I say, goes.”
He snickered. “Is that so?”
“Glad you find it funny. Why do you think I’m even here? My opinion means a lot to my mother, and if I run to her and tell her I don’t like how things are run at your company, she’ll pick up her business and run to the next development firm that’s eagerly waiting to spring properties up on the island.”
Rafe’s stomach turned. With how important this deal was to Ward, she really had the upper hand on him. “Fine. Just stay out of my way while I work, and we should get along alright.”
A smile curled up on her face. “I’ll try my best, sir.”
***
She did not.
When confronted by his son, Ward was not sympathetic. He eventually gave a half-hearted apology but not before bursting out laughing in Rafe’s face. His only defense was something like, “Josephine’s exact words were ‘young daughter’. How was I supposed to know she’s able to vote?”
“I sure love finding you in my office all the time,” Rafe announced sardonically to the girl lying on his comfy leather couch watching loud Tik Toks.
He knew why she hovered, of course. Even if his father hadn’t twisted his arm into watching her, he was one of the few people in the building within ten years of her age. It made sense that she’d linger around him, even if she was a nuisance most of the time.
She didn’t look up from her phone. “It has the best view. Big windows.” She reached into her shirt, dipped into her bra and pulled out what looked like a USB until she brought it to her mouth and sucked.
Rafe reached down to snatch it from her hand and stuck it in his lapel pocket. “Not in my office.”
She waved her hand around annoyedly, letting the tiny wisps of smoke escape from her lips. “Vibe killer. I’ve got another one at home.”
“I’m sure you do,” he muttered, sniffing the air. “Wait. Is this mint? They don’t make JUUL pods in that flavor anymore.”
“I get ‘em from Europe,” she explained impatiently.
He huffed. “How stupid of me,” he noted before stalking over to his computer. He looked around his desk and noticed things were not as he left them. “Goddamnit, quit messing around with my stuff! I’ve told you before, I care ab–” he stopped himself, and the pause actually garnered her attention.
Rafe picked up a stack of documents and inspected them carefully. “Wait. These are the quarterly verification logs?”
“I know what they are. Title at the top and everything.”
“Y/N, I’ve been trying to get these back from credentialing for months. I email them twice a day, they don’t even blink at me. Is this what you did during my meeting?”
“Yeah. I saw you typing one up earlier, so I paid their department a little visit when I was bored. Can I have my JUUL back as a prize?”
Rafe laughed. “I thought you had another one at home.”
“You called my bluff.”
He rolled his eyes, but still reached into his jacket and tossed her the stick. She caught it and took another rip, looking behind him and shaking her head wistfully. “Just imagine what else you could get done if you had a pair of tits to weaponize with every half-witted employee you have crawling around here.”
Hmm. Maybe he didn’t have to imagine.
***
His least favorite part of what he did was dealing with the shareholders, by far.
He gets it. A critical part of the job was kissing rich ass despite them knowing the least about what’s best for the company, because money makes the world go round. But the meetings he was forced to sit in on were like pulling teeth, and every minute he sat in those rooms was a performance. He nodded along, looked over papers and presentations, pretended not to notice the older men had no idea where they were, and shook hands until they slapped their thighs and announced it was time to head out.
Today, the meeting ran over, because none of those antiquated bastards have any concept of time. His skin itched, watching the clock tick minute after minute when he should already be getting back to work. When they finally noticed, Rafe pretended to receive a critical phone call to escape without dealing with their falsely pleasant goodbyes.
Rafe rested his forehead on his office door before going inside. For a moment, he forgot everything that was going on in his life, and prepared himself to enjoy the rest of the day in peace and quiet.
Except, he couldn’t, because Y/N was sitting in his chair, feet kicked up on his desk, with one of his lollipops in her mouth. He deflated, walking over to see what she was doing. Rafe groaned when his eyes landed on a coloring book and some crayons in her lap, and was especially peeved that she was too focused on Aurora’s hair to look up at him.
“What are you, five?” he sneered, picking up a completed Ursula and Ariel sheet off his desktop. “That’s you,” he said, pointing to the villainous witch.
Y/N’s eyes flicked up annoyedly and she took the sucker out, letting it clack on her teeth. “Yeah, and you’re so mature.” Without breaking eye contact, she placed the glistening lollipop right on his desk.
“Damnit, you–,” he sputtered, picking up the candy and remorsefully throwing it away. He swiped at the wet spot that remained and brought his fingers to his lips without thinking. It looked like the wood was too dark to show a stain anyways. “You win. Just, please get up.”
She waved around to the many empty chairs in his office. “Sit somewhere else.”
“It’s my office,” he scoffed. “Get up. Or you can sit in my lap, if you want,” Rafe added with a smirk.
Y/N grimaced. “Do I need to go to HR?”
“Best of luck with that, doll. The Lead HR lady is my godmother.”
She paused her coloring to look up at him. “Tell me, is there anyone in this building you don’t have a familial relation to?”
“Our CTA.”
“You’re funny.”
“I know. That’s why I thought you’d jump on the offer to sit on my lap.” She ignored him again, returning to coloring the pink dress. Rafe glanced at the stack of manila envelopes on his desk and an idea popped into his head. “Say, has my father shown you the mail room here?”
She lifted an eyebrow–he almost laughed at how easy she was to entertain. “Mail room?”
He nodded. “Yeah, real shiny place. There’s tubes all over the building that we shoot letters into that all lead to the mail room downstairs. It’s a really cool set-up, and I think you’d like it.” He looked at his desk again, feigning surprise. “Oh, hey! And these need to be sent out anyways. They don’t fit in the chutes, so you have an excuse to snoop around there.” He picked up the stack and held them out to her, fully expecting her to snort and tell him to shove them up his ass. It’s what his sister would do.
But to his complete surprise, she nodded wordlessly and set her colors down. She took the envelopes and skipped out of the office on a mission.
Shit. Maybe he could make this work.
***
Two hours later, Rafe burst out of his own office, crashing right into his father.
“Hey, I was just coming to check on you,” he greeted before noticing Rafe’s sour expression. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Ward asked, holding out a hand to his son’s chest to slow him down.
“Oh, nothing. Just that Y/N painted her nails in my room earlier,” he huffed. Likely because she wanted to cover up the scent of her dab pen, he really wanted to add on. “I made her count reams of paper to make her leave, but the room still smells like chemicals. Getting a migraine.”
“Did you open a window?”
“No, Dad, and I also didn’t try spraying Febreze, so don’t ask,” he snapped.
Ward pressed his lips together, eyebrows lifting softly. “Come sit in my office for a little?” he offered.
Rafe nodded, pressing the up button himself. His phone in his pocket chirped to indicate a text message, but he didn’t move. The phone buzzed over and over, beeping so many times that they were cutting themselves off.
Ward blinked. “Gonna check that?”
“Nope. I know it’s just Y/N.”
“Why is she sending you so many texts?”
“I made the mistake of giving her my number in case she needed anything. Now, she sends me fifty iMessage games if I’m not paying attention to her.” The elevator doors opened again to the top floor. “Dad, you don’t realize. She’s the most annoying pest I’ve ever had to deal with.”
“Worse than your sister?”
Rafe hesitated. “She gives her a run for her money.”
***
Y/N bounded up to Rafe the following day, looking from the phone nestled in the crook of his neck to where the cord led back to the desk. She brought a freshly pink-tipped finger to the hook switch and pressed it, ending his call.
“I got the signatures from the guys in accounting,” she announced, pulling the papers out to show him. “Have you actually seen them? They are literally the palest people I’ve ever met.”
Rafe sputtered with anger, slamming the phone back in the cradle. “You didn’t have to do that! I was on hold with a stupid robot.”
“I wanted your undivided attention,” she shrugged.
He massaged at his temples. “Whatever. Thank you for the signatures, I suppose. Say, are you having any trouble with the Wifi?”
To his dismay, her face brightened. “Oh, right! I wanted to ask IT if you can change the password for only the router in your office, and the answer is yes,” she giddily explained, pointing to the white box pinned to the ceiling above her.
“Um, okay. What’s the new password?”
“It’s ‘misskerringtonlovesanal420’, no caps, no spaces.”
He sighed. “Are you serious?”
“Well, I’ve never actually tried doing it. But I wanted to see if I could make the IT guy squirm and he totally–”
“I meant, is it seriously the password?” he stopped her, tired of being reminded that every touch-starved man on the premises was at the sheer whim of this girl.
“See for yourself.”
Click click click. “Ugh, really?”
“Tell me you wouldn’t do this shit if you had the freedom to.”
He didn’t respond to that. It seemed he’d have to try a little harder to keep the girl busy and out of trouble. Rafe slipped a hand into his lapel pocket and pulled out a folded $20, extending it out for her. “If I give you this, will you go to the cafeteria downstairs and get us both turkey sandwiches?”
She took the money and slipped it in her bra, already on her way out. “Yes, but we’re getting rotisserie chicken. They’re so much better.”
“Wait, I want turkey!” he called after her.
“Too bad!”
***
Rafe woke up late.
He’d spent the last week working double time to make sure Y/N stayed out of trouble and his normal tasks were fulfilled. It was no wonder that at some point he’d break and the back-up Pinball alarm would fail him. Why the fuck this had to happen the morning of his O’Brien meeting, he’ll never know.
He ran into his building in such a hurry he felt the soles of his shoes wearing down. He didn’t stop for the doorman, the HR intern, and sure as shit not for his father, who all tried to strike up a conversation.
“Dad, please, I can’t talk right now,” Rafe huffed out to the last one, clicking the elevator button over and over. “I’m super late to a meeting with–”
“This is slightly more important,” Ward insisted. “There was a cyber attack. IT is taking care of it, but something got in through our Wifi, and our emails have been a mess all d–”
“Wait,” Rafe interrupted, ignoring the car arriving at the ground floor. “You said the Wifi?”
“Well, yeah. They said there was a leak at our security company, and any routers with passwords that haven’t been reset in the last month were affected. They’re routinely reset four times a year, so we just got unlucky.”
Rafe was so stunned he had to be pulled onto the elevator by his father. “Is everything alright?”
He tossed around what to do here. If he admitted Y/N dicking around had accidentally protected his router, he’d run the risk of exposing not only how he’d been getting her to do his work but also how he really hadn’t been monitoring her too strictly. Hell, she could’ve done the opposite and totally fucked over their security if she wasn’t careful.
“Yes, actually, I was having trouble and changed my own router last week,” he lied, words fumbling out in a jittery string. “Guess I just got lucky. God, how is this elevator so slow?”
Ward raised his eyebrow at his bouncy son. “Is everything alright?”
“O’Brien meeting in negative two minutes,” he shouted, looking at his watch and slipping through the crack between the barely-open doors. “Damn Irish.”
“It’s funny because we’re actually Scottish!” his father called after him, but Rafe really didn’t care.
He threw open the doors to his own office and waved off a dazed Y/N to run behind his desk. “Hey, Bossman,” she greeted him, clearly oblivious to the rush he was in. “I had a great idea for us to do.”
Rafe dug through his desk drawers, sorting through Sharpies and Post-Its looking for the USB drive holding the O’Brien floor plans. “Lemme get back to you on that.”
“Are you sure? It’ll only take a minute.”
“Y/N, I can’t right now. I’ve got a meeting that I’m already late for, and it’s really important that I–”
“Oh, that? I moved it.”
He halted in his tracks, blood colder than ice. “You moved my meeting with the O’Briens?!” he asked, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“Yeah,” she answered bubbly. “I wanted to get a chocolate croissant at that bakery down the street but they close early in the day, so I called and asked those guys if they’d be okay with the same time tomorrow. All I had to do was say it conflicted with Kerrington business, and they were cool with it. Ready to go?”
Rafe was… fucking flabbergasted. Not only did she take it upon herself to move a career-altering meeting without his permission over a fucking baked good, but she’d used her name to persuade the O’Briens into compliance. He thought back to the wifi– she’d just unintentionally saved his ass, twice, in the same fucking day.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I looked at your calendar first. You’re not busy.”
He couldn’t help himself. Rafe lunged forward, taking her face into his hands and planting a big kiss on her lips. She made a surprised squeak before relaxing into his touch and returning the favor.
When he pulled away, her eyes were still shut for two seconds too long. “Yeah, I could go for a Kouign-amann. After you,” he said, waving his hand out to the door.
***
Rafe had just finished the yellow cross on his Rubik’s cube when his father knocked on the door of his office. He waved him in with two fingers but went right back to diligently solving his puzzle.
“Where is Y/N?” Ward asked, taking a seat in front of his son’s desk.
“Out to lunch with her mother.”
“And you didn’t go with her?” he teased.
This got Rafe to look up from the cube, but he still shot his father an exasperated glare. Not only did that sound like a nightmare and a half, he was a little uneasy about being around her.
He’d acted a little rash yesterday when he was pumped full of adrenaline and stress, he’ll admit it– though, if he had made her uncomfortable with the kiss, she didn’t act like it. She went right back to the hellion force of nature she was before (like forcing him to play 20 Questions with her, and when the person was revealed to be Ghandi, going on a long rant about his problematic behavior as if she hadn’t chosen the man herself). Kinda why he was enjoying the rare peace and quiet he just lost.
“Why’d you stop by?” A much more pleasant way of saying why oh why are you in my office and what’s the quickest way I can get you out.
“At some point I want you to complete the follow-up for the Carroll’s. I know they’re a-holes, so feel free to not put this high on your priority list. I could care less if it gets done by the end of the week, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh, so you haven’t been honest before?” Rafe snapped, getting too frustrated and slamming the Rubik’s cube back down on the desk. “And you mean you couldn’t care less,” he tacked on.
Ward pursed his lips together and tried to hold back a snort. “Okay, let’s make a deal. I won’t use either of those phrases anymore, and you quit taking out your annoyance with Y/N on me.”
“Not really fair, since her antagonism in my life is very much your fault.”
“C’mon, you’ve been doing a great job so far! Is she that hard to get along with?” Ward sighed. “She’s a cute girl who could charm birds out of trees and y’know, she reminds me a lot of you.”
Rafe winced. “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Oh, hush. You’re both hardworking, loyal, and heirs, obviously.”
“How is she hardworking? All she does is traipse around the office and make messes for me to clean up.”
“Really? Because, from what I’ve heard around the office, you’ve turned her into your little administrative assistant. Are you sure that’s what Mrs. Kerrington wants?”
“I don’t know what Mrs. Kerrington wants!” he groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “If you didn’t notice, she kind of dropped a teenager off at my doorstep and made me figure out how to balance watching her and work.”
“She’s an adult,” Ward muttered, sinking down in the chair.
“Those are not mutually exclusive,” Rafe snapped back, then shook his head. He leaned forward and started working on the Rubik’s cube again. “Whatever. I’m over it. Not really, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” His eyes darted up to the clock on his wall. “You’ve got a Zoom call with the West Coast in ten minutes, anyways.”
Ward checked his watch and jumped up when he realized his son was correct.
***
“How did you even manage to get into my computer?!” Rafe shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up.
“Your password was literally your last name and birth year, doll,” she explained, far too casual for someone who hadn’t just turned his entire desktop set-up to various shades of pink and purple. He didn’t fail to notice how she was picking up on his mannerisms these last few weeks. “And the password hint was ‘name and year’. Have you ever taken a computer safety class in your life?”
“Stop talking to me like I deserve to have you snooping around my stuff! Change it back!”
“Absolutely not. How could you work with it before? It was so dull and… default settings.”
Rafe scrubbed his face with his hands, realizing it didn't relax him at all. “I am genuinely so tired of your presence,” he admitted, waving a hand and trying not to clench it in a fist when she giggled at him. “I’m serious! You constantly get in the way. I don’t even know why I put up with you.”
“Because my say is the last stop in this agreement, and you’re in charge of keeping me happy.”
He grimaced at the reminder. “Right. You’re the gleaming epitome of nepotism. I get it.”
She all but gasped. “Are you joking? And just what does that make you?”
“Hey, I actually work here. I’ve put in effort to get where I am.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yeah. And I’m sure daddy had nothing to do with it.”
“I’m on the Board of Directors here!”
“Which your father also assembled!” she shouted, then shook her head with a smile. “Actually, y’know what? I get it now. You hate me because I’m you.”
He spat at the assumption. “We are completely different.”
“No, we’re not. We’re both spoiled nepotism babies who overvalue our importance. I just don’t give enough of a fuck to lie about it. Tell me, do you hate seeing yourself when you look at me? Is that it?”
Rafe exhaled heavily through his nose, trying to refrain from storming out and knocking over a vase on his way out. “Is there any particular reason you’re always such a pain to me and an angel around everyone else?”
Y/N raised herself up on her tiptoes to (unsuccessfully) get closer to his height. “Because I like making mean guys suffer. And because you’re so cute when you’re mad.”
“And you’re just cute enough to get my shit done for me.”
Yeah, that was fucking dumb to say. Her jaw dropped the moment the words regretfully tumbled off his tongue and not even slapping his hand over his mouth could save him.
“Wait, that’s what you’ve been doing? You were using me to get your fucking work done?”
“Y/N, no, I–”
“And just when I thought we were kind of getting along for a minute. Do you think I’m just a tool for you to use?”
Kind of. His mouth hung open dumbly for too many moments, because she scoffed in disgust and pushed past him.
He called at her and tried to grab her arm, but she yanked away again. “If you follow me, I’m telling my mom what a chauvinistic louse you are.”
Rafe waited for the mischievous grin to creep on her face, but it didn’t. She was cold. He’d fucked up.
In immaculate timing, a new secretary hire knocked on the barely open door of his office. “Mr. Cameron? Miss Kerrington? The board meeting starts in four minutes,” the intern informed the two, just poking his head in enough to get the words out before disappearing.
She huffed one more time, spinning around and marching out of the room. He was conflicted, since he was mandated to be at the meeting but was terrified of pissing her off. He chased her down the halls, wanting to at least be present for his own damnation.
He only caught up to her just as she joined the groups of execs, far too late for him to attempt to stop her again. He held his breath as he watched her take her seat next to her mother. His face was hot, waiting for her to spill the beans and get his ass in immense trouble.
She… didn’t, though. She just sat down, looked at her phone under the desk, and shifted in the chair to get comfortable.
“Rafe? You alright?” he heard, and he looked down to see his dad waving him towards the table. “Let’s get this started.”
***
“And to recap, these are the outsourcing companies we plan to use. Contracts are already underway…” Mr. Henthorn droned. Or… Hawthorn. Who gives a crap.
“Why isn’t Upwards Lumber on this list anymore?” Josephine asked. “I thought we agreed on them in our earlier phases.”
Ward hesitated, looking around to his team before answering. “Well, last week we were informed Upwards wasn’t able to handle projects of this size anymore.”
Josephine’s eyes narrowed. “I thought they worked with the Ambetter building downtown?”
“They did. But apparently a year and a half ago, they were heavily audited and half their workers were laid off due to failed drug screenings. Upwards is really only able to handle small commercial projects until they rebuild their crew.”
Drug screens are just elitist, targeting bullshit, Rafe thought, and Ward looked over with a stern blink as though he could read his son’s mind. Probably not the time to be making any kind of statement anyways.
Josephine stiffened. “Well. Bullet dodged, I suppose. Kerrington doesn’t tolerate drug use of any kind, at any level.”
Ward agreed with her imperative demand, but Rafe had to hide a smirk behind his fist. It was one thing for Y/N to obnoxiously hit her JUUL in his office, but if mommy saw the dab cart that sometimes stuck out of her bag, it’d be a little harder to explain.
He looked up to Y/N. Sure, she was fuming and likely going to snitch on him any minute now, but she still had a sense of humor, so he expected to share at least a moment of amused, knowing eye contact. To his surprise, though, she was completely slumped down in the chair. Her gaze was down on the table and she picked at her fingernails, hiding from everyone else in the room. Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked over to Josephine, who was shooting her daughter a fiery glare.
The daughter who was a bratty, uncontrollable mess. The one who had pretty condemnatory dirt on Rafe and, knowing her character, was being oddly silent about it. The one who’d been dropped off for him to essentially babysit for the last few excruciating weeks.
Babysit.
The pieces assembled themselves in his brain so quickly he nearly got vertigo in the swivel chair. That’s why he’s had to fucking watch her this whole time– because she needed watching. No wonder she didn’t snitch on Rafe for whoring her out for paperwork. She was never there for him to entertain and keep happy; he just had to make sure she wasn’t sneaking off to do drugs. And really, he hadn’t done a great job at it.
He didn’t bother beating himself up, since his directions were incredibly unclear and he’d been expecting to watch a fourth grader to begin with. Regardless, the tension in the room was palpable and the respective girl’s face had already turned a burning pink.
The moment the meeting was over, Y/N did the least annoying thing she’d done since the first day she stepped into the building. She stood up, stormed out of the meeting room, and disappeared for the rest of the day.
***
Showing up to the office in the dark had a much different energy than during the daytime. The area was quite nice, so it wasn’t like she felt particularly unsafe going in, but without the doorman greeting her and pulling open the massive front door, something felt off.
Although, it was nice that no one was there to watch her vomit in the receptionist’s trash can. Helena would be pissed come Monday morning, but Y/N was currently more concerned with how much better she felt after getting that out of her system.
Muscle memory is the only thing that got her in the elevator and pushing the right button. When she reached the desired floor, a wave of his aftershave and cigarette smoke hit her nose. She floated on the scent, lost in the way it wrapped around her, until it carried her right into the office of the man she was looking for.
Of course, she didn’t barge in. Rafe didn’t notice her arrival right away so she remained in the shadows to watch him work. It was outlandish, how attractive he was—he was focused hard on some stack of papers with one hand scrubbing at his temple and the other occasionally taking the cigarette that rested between his lips and ashing it. The smoke escaped his mouth in aggravated sighs, curling around his head before disappearing into the room. He’d cracked open a window in some attempt to hide the smell, but it only breezed its way into the hall. This close, it wasn’t even nauseating, but more like a cologne.
From her spot, she could see that he’d unbuttoned some of his shirt to reveal his lean chest. It was strange, seeing some indicator that he was capable of relaxing. He’d had a stick up his ass since the day she met him, so imagining him exhausted and popping the top few buttons on his shirt was almost… endearing.
Her balance was, as expected, not up to par. She leaned a little too far one way, and before she knew it, she stumbled right into the light as well as Rafe’s eyeline. He called her name confusedly, and when her head snapped up, she caught him stubbing out the cig as he stood.
“It’s cute,” she noted, nodding at the ashtray and trying not to trip over her own feet as she got back up. “You, putting out the cigarette. Like I don’t smoke in your office when you’re not here.”
Rafe waved his hands around and tossed the window open even further. “Lighting a cigarette is more serious than hitting your stupid Brass Knuckles pen. What are you doing here so late?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I work here,” he bit back. His gaze trailed down her body, taking in her immodest party dress and heels. “I see when you go out, you wear even less than you do at work. Astonishing.”
“I can wear even less, if you’d like.”
His eyes narrowed, and he ignored her flirting. She was speaking far too quickly and clearly to be just drunk. Rafe took a step forward and inspected her eyes. Sure enough, her pupils were blown wide to accompany her pink cheeks. “You didn’t only drink, did you?”
Y/N’s lips curled up gently. “Would you be mad if I didn’t?”
“Of course not, sweetheart, but…” he straightened her clothes and made sure she was okay otherwise, “were you planning on going home like this?”
She shook her head. “I was out with my friend Mona and figured I’d crash at her place. Which I was going to do, until I noticed I was near your office and decided to pay a visit.”
He sighed. “Well, I’ve got to get you home safely.”
Her eyes flew to the back of her head. “What’re you, my dad?”
Rafe bristled. “No, but mine is in the building, and so is your ball-gripping mother. We kinda need to get you the fuck out of here.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, they’re not on this floor, though. That’s why you felt comfortable doing this.” Y/N reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out a solid red Bic lighter. She brought her thumb up and spun the dial, sparking it just a little too close to their faces.
He annoyedly snatched the lighter out of her hands. “Why did you come here?”
She bounced up on the tips of her toes and pulled at the back of his neck for a kiss. It felt good, charged, but his rational brain pushed her away immediately. She pouted.
“Y/N, stop. We absolutely cannot do that.” He wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence, but a Rolodex of options cycled through his mind. Because you’re barely 18 and I’m about to be 22. Because I’m basically your babysitter. Because our parents would kill us. Because you look like you’ve taken both cocaine and molly and it seems you’ve forgotten you were quite mad at me eight hours ago. Because the charge I would catch would be astronomical. Take your pick.
“Why not? We’ve kissed before. I thought it was a good kiss. I think about it a lot. Don’t you?” She still had a firm grip on the nape of his neck, so she toyed with the hair that brushed against her fingers.
Rafe weighed his options, quickly doing the math of when she’d probably started partying to when it should wear off and she’d crash. “Of course I do,” he admitted, honestly, because there’s a chance she’d forget half of this night anyways. “But not here. Is it alright if we go to my place?”
She smiled, letting her hand fall around his shoulder and down his chest. “You don’t still live with daddy, huh?”
He let out a soft laugh, reaching behind himself to grab his wallet and keys. “Nope. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
***
By Rafe’s estimation, she only had about five more minutes of hyperactivity before she crashes and the alcohol takes over her system. She’ll lose interest in trying to get in his pants, and want nothing more than a warm bed, which Rafe conveniently had to spare. His apartment was seven minutes away, so the timing should work out perfectly.
But that didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.
She was relentless. Playing with his tie in the office elevator, winking at him when he opened the car door for her, reaching to rub his thigh while he pulled out of the garage onto the streets. He couldn’t very well stop her without revealing his plans to dump her off and go right back to work, but holy fuck she was making it really hard to focus on driving.
Getting her inside his apartment was easy enough, like she was trying to remain casual in public. As soon as they were inside, all bets were off and she was back to being the horny brat she was in the car.
He got her in one of the guest rooms, and she seemed oblivious to his attempts to get her asleep. Y/N tried pawing at his clothes, but he stopped her, taking her wrists with a tight grip. “Ah-ah. Listen to me,” he ordered, and she obeyed with an impatient sulk. “I have some questions. Can you answer me, sweetheart?”
Y/N nodded impatiently, and he smiled when she held a long blink. A good sign.
Rafe guided her backwards, switching her wrists into only one of his hands. “Which of your friends does your mom like the best?”
She froze. “I– what?”
His now-free hand came up to stroke her cheek, gently moving back to card through her hair. “Just answer me, pretty girl.”
“Her name is Samantha.”
Rafe nodded, pushing once more until the back of her knees hit the bed. “Good girl. Does she live in town?”
Y/N nodded, eyes big and innocent. “Yeah, uh, she does.”
He finally led her down until she sat on the mattress, and she took the initiative to climb in herself. He carefully joined her, not lying down with her but remaining close to keep her on the line. “Have you seen her in the last month?”
“Yes… why are you aski–?”
He shushed her, having her get comfortable and continuing to pet her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to help you.”
Fortunately, she was already shutting her eyes and wiggling down further into the bed. He placed a kiss on her forehead and brought the throw blanket from the foot of the bed to her body. It probably wasn’t comfortable to sleep in that dress, but it did not feel right to undress her in this state.
And now, it was back to the office.
***
The elevator stopped at the third floor, which confused Rafe, since most everyone on that level should be home. His back stiffened when the doors opened to reveal Josephine Kerrington. She looked exactly the same as she did during the day, not a pin out of place. It almost amazed Rafe, how kempt she looked even this late at night.
“Oh, hello, Rafe,” she greeted, a warm yet hollow smile on her lips. “You’re here quite late.”
He hummed, watching the doors shut and ignoring the air between them warming up. “As are you.”
“Well, your father is a busy man. He loses track of time so often you’d think he doesn’t know what it is. I had to use a bathroom on another floor or he’d try to pitch ideas while I pissed.”
His eyes widened, and he didn’t try hiding the chuckle. Damn, Y/N’s mom was pretty funny. “Yeah, working with Y/N has been the least intense job I’ve gotten from him since I was fifteen.”
She looked at him. “How is she doing, by the way?”
Rafe inhaled, thinking back to the last couple of weeks, and to the last hour and a half he’s had. “Y/N… is a delight. She’s fun to be around, but sometimes distracting because of her charm.” Okay, okay, dial it back. “Fortunately, she’s out of my hair for the night so I can get some work done. Said she was at a friend’s house, a… Sarah? Savannah? Samanth–?”
“Samantha?” Josephine asked, turning back with a pleasant nod. “Good to hear. She’s got some terrible influences, like that friend Mina.” Damn, can’t even get the name right, Rafe thought. “You’re a lovely young man, and I hope you’re rubbing off on her.”
He winced at the innuendo, but smiled politely. “Thank you Mrs. Kerrington.”
When the doors shut, he all but clicked his heels together in glee. “Rafe Cameron, CEO. Good ring to it.” The elevator beeped in agreement.
***
Y/N wasn’t in much after that. Josephine made semi-regular appearances, but the deal seemed to be coming to a close and there was little reason for them to be around anymore. He would rather rake hot coals over his body than admit this, but he really missed the chaotic energy she brought. Things almost felt dull without needing to chase her around the building making sure she behaved.
And, y’know, without his unpaid intern.
It was Ward’s idea to have a celebratory closing banquet in the office building, but Rafe was almost certain that it was Y/N’s idea to make it casino night-themed.
Some poor team of interns had been tasked with turning the office into a Vegas-adjacent venue and knocked their job out of the park. Employees were given chips and sent out among the poker, craps, and roulette tables stationed with stiff-standing dealers clad in maroon bow ties. Cocktail waitresses went around taking drink orders and accepting chips as a tip (playing along pointlessly, as the chips were clearly from a children’s game).
He heard her before he saw her– a fake laugh laced with discomfort only he could detect in her voice. His head whipped over to see Y/N, clad in a ridiculously fitted red dress, clutching her clear plastic cup tight enough to force the color out of her knuckles while she spoke with her mother and others.
He grabbed his drink and abandoned the Texas Hold ‘Em table to pull her into the shadows. Josephine was so wrapped in her conversation he didn’t even need to request he borrow her daughter– no wonder she was so out of control.
If she didn’t want to be alone with him, she didn’t make a point of it. She was quiet in the elevator as he observed her and sipped his drink, leaning against the railing in the car, nervously bouncing her toe in her heel. When they arrived at the floor, she skipped out in front of him and beat him to the unlocked door.
Rafe drained the rest of his vodka soda and tossed the cup into his trash, pushing his hands into his coat pockets. “You lied to me,” he started, and she lifted her shoulders. “About why you were here.”
She didn’t waste a moment denying this. “And? You would, too.”
“No, I would not!”
“Really?” she raised an eyebrow. “If you were in my shoes, you’d run right to your caregiver and tell him how your mother won’t allow you to be alone for literally five minutes? That she’d requested a watchful eye on you? Or would you find a way to get them to tolerate your every whim without pushback? Frankly, the idea kinda handed itself to me when you were a misogynistic dick to me the first time we met. That was just dumb luck.”
“Dumb luck, huh?” he asked, stepping towards her. “What would you call having a coked-out teenager stumble into your office and beg you to fuck her? Is that just luck?”
She didn’t respond. He could see in her eyes she was trying not to look away, to show any apprehension, but he’d spent just too much time around her to not notice.
“Had anything to drink tonight?” he asked, taking one more step towards her until they were less than a foot apart.
Her attitude was back in a flash. “With my mom around? Yeah, a Coke Zero.”
He smiled even though he’d just been snapped at. “Good. You don’t need to be using that kind of stuff anyways.”
“Okay, Father Holy,” she rolled her eyes, and he had just about had enough of her shit.
Rafe grabbed her shoulders and pinned her between his body and the wall forcing a gasp from her. “I try to help you, over and over,” he sighed, almost disheartened. “And you’re still a little brat.”
His hands were all over her and she whined, arching into his touch and trying to get a feel of her own. He held her wrists tight and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Try behaving for once in your life and maybe you can touch me.”
Her hands fell down to her sides without fighting, and he ran his hands along her nearly-bare chest. His fingertips slipped under the straps and hem of the fabric as he savored the feeling of her skin under his palms, and he watched as goosebumps erupted over her collarbones. “You want this?” he checked, another chance for her to back out before he began to ruin her.
She nodded fervently, but when he just raised an eyebrow, pleading affirmations spilled out of her lips like a stream.
With the green light, Rafe tugged down the top part of her dress until her breasts were exposed in the cool office air. He played with her tits, switching between sucking on one nipple and using his fingers to toy with the other.
This wasn’t enough for either of them, so his attention and desperate hands went downwards. He got sick of trying to pull down the panties without undressing her fully, and ripped them right off her legs. He stuffed the torn fabric into his coat pocket and she gaped. “You owe me a new pair,” she breathed, moving her legs apart for him anyways.
“If only I could afford it,” he muttered, bringing his fingers to her now-exposed clit. “Do you know why I put up with your shit?”
“‘Cause I’m cute?” she smiled, but it quickly dissolved when his movements sped up.
“Oh, yeah. But also, I got a little promotion this morning,” Rafe said, leaving a fat wet kiss anywhere his lips could reach on the exposed skin of her collarbone. “You inadvertently made me CEO. Everything in this building is mine.”
Rafe used his legs to push hers even further apart, open her up for him even more.
“And in this moment,” he smacked her clit, and she cried out. “That includes you.”
He expected a snarky comment at this point, but he seemed to subdue her enough to continue rambling.
“I’ve dreamed of how I’d handle your ass for weeks,” Rafe admitted. “I think the only solution is to keep you under my desk with my cock down your throat. Put that smart mouth to some good for once, mm?”
She whined, pushing back against him for more friction.
“Fuck, you like that?” he asked incredulously. “It’s one thing for you to let me tame you, but you’re taking enjoyment in this? Kinda makin’ it hard for me. Never would’ve guessed you like being used like a doll so badly.”
“You’re mean,” she pouted, actually pouted at him and he grinned wolfishly.
Rafe shook his head. “No, baby, being mean would be binding your hands together with my tie and forcing you to cum until you cry.” She had no counter to that.
The fingers on his other hand pushed into her mouth, past her teeth, and she involuntarily sucked. “Good girl,” he cooed, not letting up on the strokes to her clit. “That mouth has done nothing but cause me trouble the last few weeks. Show me what good it can do, hmm?”
She nodded softly, obediently, and flicked her tongue over the digits, allowing him to pet at the inside of her cheek. She whimpered when he dipped his other fingers into her cunt, bringing them right back to her clit to keep her on the edge.
He thrusted against her thigh and gave her another little slap right where she was most sensitive. Rafe toyed with her swollen, glistening clit until she was breathing heavily and her legs were losing their stability. Had he not pinned her body tight against the wall, she’d collapse into a shaky pile of pleasure. He noticed her eyes rolling back into her head and pulled his fingers away, watching her gasp and whine at the loss of contact.
“What?”
“Need more,” she sniffled.
Rafe shook his head, almost chastising. “I know what you need.”
He was going to return to what he was doing, he wasn’t that mean. But he must’ve had her closer to orgasm than he’d anticipated because she got shameless.
“Please, please, Rafe, oh my God,” she whined, squirming under him. Her hips bucked up to try and get traction against his hands but he pulled away just in time. “Touch me again, please, I’ll do anything. I need it, please.”
His eyebrows had never been higher. He pushed his tongue along his bottom teeth amusedly. “Sweetheart, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg,” he pointed out, voice light and adoring. “But since you did anyways, I’ll help my girl out.”
She preened again, this time allowed to make contact with him. He placed a hand on her hip and pulled his cock out, already flushed and leaking and really fucking hard. Rafe dragged the precum on the tip along the entire head before bringing it to her cunt, dragging them together slowly. She cried out again at the new contact.
“Doesn’t this feel good, pretty girl?” he asked, angling just right to apply pressure on her clit. Judging by the full-body shudder he got out of her, the answer was yes.
“I want– oh fuck– more, please,” she said. He laughed a little. She knows what she likes.
“Tell me exactly what you want me to do, baby.”
“I want your cock inside me,” she begged, blinking up at him with long, fluttering lashes. “Wanna feel you stretch me open. Don’t you wanna use my cunt however you like? That’s all I want.”
Good fuck, who could resist that? He buried himself to the hilt, sending his brain to a skittering halt and hers into a frenzy. She grabbed at his back, whimpering with every inch, every drag that he stretched her open. He didn’t even register that he was getting scratched by the same nails she’d obnoxiously painted in his office just a couple weeks ago.
“Oh, wow,” he finally groaned, withdrawing and thrusting back in, letting his brain adjust to the feeling of holyfuckI’minsideherwereallyshouldn’tdothis. “I could fuck you forever. You sure you don’t want an administrative job around here?”
Her fingers made their way back up to his shoulder, head thumping against the wall. “Bite me.”
“If you insist.” He leaned in and gently sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, kissing the skin right after. He led all the way up to her ear until she was shivering and his strokes didn’t miss a beat.
Y/N’s cunt clenched around him, and he saw white. “Goddamn, sweetheart, if we’d been doing this sooner, I would’ve let you do whatever the hell you want,” Rafe groaned, moving her hair out of her face.
She can’t let anything nice stay nice, though. “Slut,” she teased, smirk disappearing with a deep stroke.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m the slut?” he asked, pulling out and forcing a whine from her.
He moved her over to his desk, shoving her over the edge and pinning her there. Rafe pushed her head against the solid wood by the nape of her neck. “I’ve wanted to bend you over like this since I laid eyes on you,” he muttered, removing his hand and sliding it down her back.
She turned back, batting her lashes at him as he lined up his ruddy tip at her core. “Mm, you should’ve. So forbidden, would’ve been so hot.”
Rafe didn’t answer, just pushed his cock into her and a soft cry escaped from her lips. She tried to bite down on them but he laughed and sank all the way in until his hips were flush with hers. “We’re over three floors away from the rest of the office. Be as loud as you want, princess.”
And she did. Honestly, it wasn’t the best advice, because hearing her cries and whimpers for his cock further in her was only making him lose his rhythm and chance of lasting more than five minutes. He felt her reach down and play with her clit, and normally he’d reprimand her for doing this without permission, but it seemed like torture with how close she already was.
Feeling her cum around his cock was un-fucking-real. He finished shortly after, pulling out to paint her inner thigh with his own spend. He amusedly watched it drip down her skin, down the legs she could barely even stand on.
“Job’s still on the table, baby,” he reminded her, tucking himself back into his trousers. “Anything to keep you here and doing that more. Blackjack next?”
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myveryownfanfiction · 2 days ago
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Rickmas day 21: heartfelt confessions
continuation of days 8 and 17
18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @deepperplexity, @smilingformoney
warnings: swearing, death, snake attack, voldemort
I paced the boathouse, waiting for Severus to arrive. Voldemort had sent word to him and left me as bait. I turned as Severus entered.
“professor?” Severus asked as he saw me, a small twitch in his fingers as he scanned the room. Voldemort emerged from the shadows and smiled at the two of us. “My lord.” He bowed his head as Voldemort came to stand in front of him.
“Severus. Thank you for joining us.” Voldemort said. “There have been some…revelations of late. One that involves our lovely charms professor here.” Severus gulped as he looked between us. “I do believe you dared to defy me, saying you’d run away to join the muggles if it meant I wouldn’t find you.” Severus didn’t move, not emotion on his face at all. I bit the inside of my cheek hard to keep my face blank. Severus glanced at me and I noted the glimmer of fear in his eyes.
“my lord…” Severus started but stopped when Voldemort held up a hand, circling him.
“I must say Severus. I never expected you to choose a pure blood. Given your status and the unfortunate choice of a bitch you originally made.” I felt the shiver go up my spine at the mention of lily. “How much do you love our little professor? Hmmm? Enough to die for them?” Severus went pale, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced at me.
“Die my lord?” He asked. “I…what…are you…” I stepped forward and stood in front of Severus. His hand came out to grab my arm, push me out of the way should anything happen but I grabbed his other arm and squeezed.
“you can’t kill him!” I cried. Voldemort looked at the two of us. He laughed darkly.
“I can’t can I?” He asked. “You little bitch, I think you forget your place. Unless you want to die alongside him.” I stood to my full height and stared down the most dangerous man in all of the wizarding world.
“better to die together than live with the pain of losing a loved one.” I shot back. Severus tightened his grip, still intent on pushing me out of the way. ‘Bastard thinks he killed Harry right?’ I thought. The brief squeeze of my arm confirmed it. I took a deep breath as Voldemort raised his arm.
“then you shall die alongside him.” Voldemort warned me. I stood defiantly in front of Severus as we watched nagini come closer. I counted down in my head, pulling Severus into apparition at the last possible second. I pulled him down just outside the boathouse as Voldemort roared with anger. Nagini was hanging off his arm, body falling at the wave of energy Voldemort gave off as the horcrux in the snake died. Voldemort stumbled against the wall as the venom coursed through his body, no horcuxes left to bring him back. I breathed out and leaned my head against Severus’ chest as a tear escaped my eye.
“How did you know that would work?” He breathed out, arms wrapping around me tightly. “How did you…”
“I didn’t.” I said, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “I just wanted this to end.” Severus cupped my cheeks and kissed me deeply.
“you brilliant idiot.” He whispered, leaning his head against mine. “You absolute brilliant nut case. I love you. So so much.” I giggled and wrapped my hands around his wrists.
“I love you too.” I breathed out before kissing him again. He hugged me to him before rising. “Is he…”
“he should be.” Severus nodded, slowly making his way into the boathouse. He kept a tight hold on my hand as I trailed behind him. “Free. Finally free.” Severus breathed out, tears of his own rolling down his cheeks. “We’re free.”
“oh Severus.” I cried as I covered my mouth. Severus swept me up, spinning me around before kissing me again.
“let’s go. Let Harry find him.” Severus breathed out. “I have a mind to apologize to Minerva and then disappear to spinners end until this all blows over.” Severus looked at me with shining eyes. “If you’ll have me.”
“I’ll always have you Severus.” I confirmed before following him back up to the castle.
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