#stop it stop it stop it stop it stop this madness.. i want you.... i am waiting with a glaciers patience crashed every transformer with

[whytheylosttheirminds]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Depends, how much money you got?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Decorations 

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys 

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree 

 ⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m on vacation,” he protested. 

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

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

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

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

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

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

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

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

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

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

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

(to be continued)

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

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

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

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

[ikeuluvr]

Baby, can we make up now? || sunghoon drabble

synopsis - bf!sunghoon and reader comforting each other and making up after you walk out during a fight (part 2 of I don’t wanna go to bed mad at you…)

non-idol!sunghoon x reader / established relationship - angst + fluff / warnings - crying, fighting/arguments, mentions of neglect / word count: ~1k

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It was a rarity for you and Sunghoon to fight like this—so badly that swears are echoing off of the walls and choked sobs escape both of your lips. Any arguments the two of you may have were typically nothing more than about picking up dirty socks off of the bedroom floor or making sure to turn off the lights before leaving the apartment. In the three years you’ve been together, you had never had a fight so severe until tonight. The whole situation was surely a result of pent up frustration and exhaustion from your daily lives, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less.

You let out a shaky breath as you approach the door of you and Sunghoon’s shared apartment, resting your hand on the door knob as you try to suck in the tears threatening to already escape. With a gentle twist, you push the door open to enter the dimly-lit space. Before you could mutter a single word, make any sound, or even take off your shoes, the warmth of Sunghoon’s body was quickly being wrapped around you. The silence was immediately broken by the sound of his small sobs and sniffles into your neck, instantly making your own tears start to fall again. You wrapped your arms around his body and held him close as if he would vanish into thin air if you didn’t. The two of you stood in the doorway just like this; your bodies pressed together and choked cries filling the common area for a few minutes more.

“I’m- I’m s-so- I’m so sorry Y/N,” Sunghoon manages to stutter out against your neck, his arms squeezing you even tighter if at all possible, “I’m such a- I’m such a fucking idiot.”

You gently shake your head as you slightly pull away from him, making his head raise to look at your face. A pang of guilt rushed through your body at the sight of his red and puffy eyes, his nose a bright pink from all of the crying—his eyelashes soaked in tears as more kept falling down his face. You let out a deep sigh as you reached up to cup his cheeks, wiping away the tears with your thumbs. Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered shut, causing a few more to fall as he leaned into your touch.

“It’s okay my love,” you breathed out in a small whisper, “We are both going through a lot right now and just ended up taking it out on each other… I know you didn’t mean it.”

Sunghoon takes a deep breath and keeps his hands on your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumbs, “I know but I still shouldn’t have said what I did. It came out so wrong and it made you think I didn’t love you and that-” he pauses and squeezes his eyes closed tight while letting out another sob, “that is the last thing I ever want you to feel from me.”

“Oh sweetie…” you say under your breath before taking his hand into yours and walking a few steps to the couch to sit the both of you down, “Let’s take a few deep breaths first, hm?” you suggest as the both of you take a seat, knowing that if Sunghoon didn’t stop crying now, he never would. You take a couple deep breaths together, letting both of your emotions settle. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips as Sunghoon nods to you, letting you know he’s ready to talk.

Sunghoon holds your hands in his, taking a brief second to collect his thoughts before he begins to speak, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. For the argument, for what I said, for making you feel the way you did, for causing you to walk out… I was just-” he pauses to take another breath, “I was frustrated and my mouth started working faster than my brain was.”

You give him a small nod to let him know you’re listening, your eyes never leaving his face even for a brief second, “I know, Sunghoon. I was irritated too, and I surely also said things that I know I shouldn’t have. Besides, I was the one who started it so it’s really my fault,” you say, your voice growing softer as you look down at your hands intertwined in your lap.

“What?” Sunghoon questions, his eyebrows furrowing, “Look at me baby,” he tells you as he brings one hand up to your chin, gently tilting your head up to look him in the eyes, “I deserved it, honestly. You were right. I’ve been neglecting you and treating you like a second priority to my work and that’s just unfair to you.”

“But I also need to be more understanding that you-”

“No buts,” Sunghoon immediately cuts you off, moving his hand from your chin to cup your cheek, “You are my life, Y/N. You are my first priority in every way possible, and I intend to make sure what’s what you receive from me until we’re six feet under. There is nothing on this planet that will ever be more important than you, understand?” he explains a bit more firmly, making sure your eyes never leave his.

“Yeah love… I understand,” you reply in a soft whisper, a tiny smile trying to make its way onto your lips.

With a soft sigh, Sunghoon plants a gentle kiss to your forehead and pulls you in for another embrace, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck as his chin rests on top of your head, “Baby, can we make up now? Cause I can’t sleep through the pain.”

A quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you nuzzle impossibly closer into his chest, “Yeah babe… we’re okay.”

“I love you with my whole heart, Y/N. Never forget that.”

“And I love you with all of mine, Sunghoon.”

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masterlist

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[lechrts]

Sweet Tea. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: When Lando tries to find forgiveness after an argument through acts of service.

Word Count: 1.3k

Disclaimer/s: established rel, fluff, kinda angst…. ish.

Vera’s Voice! Hi. this was fun to write :3 hope u enjoy mama ^_^ the lando oneshot grind doesn’t stop.

The hum of the heating system filled the stillness of the apartment. It wasn’t exactly peaceful—more like tense, suffocating, and heavy.

You sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders, your phone glowing faintly in your hands. You scrolled aimlessly, not really reading anything, but it was better than thinking about the argument that had left you and Lando in this standoff.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him pacing between the living room and the kitchen. He wasn’t saying anything—he hadn’t since you’d gone quiet—but his restless movements said enough.

He hated silence, especially when it was because of you.

The fight hadn’t started as anything serious, just a playful back-and-forth after a long day. But his teasing had crossed a line without him realizing it, and you’d snapped.

“You don’t need to be so dramatic about everything,” He said, half-laughing, when you’d voiced your frustrations about something that had been bothering you for days.

The words had stung, lodging themselves deep in your chest. You didn’t know if it was the dismissive tone, the laughter, or just the stress of the week catching up to you, but you’d shut down completely after that.

No sarcastic comeback, no explanation, just cold, steely silence.

And Lando?

He hadn’t done much to help himself. Instead of apologizing, he’d groaned, muttering, “Oh, come on, don’t do this,” as if your feelings were an inconvenience to him.

That was what had really sealed it.

So now you were here, refusing to meet his eyes, letting the silence stretch longer and longer.

From the kitchen came the faint clink of dishes. You glanced up briefly, noticing Lando hunched over the counter, his brows furrowed in concentration.

He was making something.

But what?

You couldn’t quite tell.

You wanted to stay mad—wanted him to feel the weight of how much his words had hurt—but curiosity gnawed at you.

Lando wasn’t exactly a chef, and him fumbling around in the kitchen was unusual.

A few minutes later, his footsteps padded softly toward you. He stopped just in front of the couch, hesitating before placing a small plate on the coffee table.

Beside it, a steaming mug of tea.

You looked down, your stomach tightening at the sight. It was your favorite treat, carefully prepared just the way you liked it.

The tea even seemed to have the right amount of honey—he must’ve measured it out because he always teased you for how sweet you liked it.

“Here,” Hr said quietly, his voice almost timid. “I, uh… I thought you might be hungry.”

You stared at the plate for a moment, then looked up at him. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” He added quickly, before you could say anything. “I was a complete ass earlier. I didn’t mean to brush you off like that—I wasn’t thinking.”

You didn’t say anything, though the sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Instead, you reached for the mug, cradling it in your hands.

Lando shifted awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or give you space.

After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially when it’s my fault. I know I messed up, but I hate this—” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, “—this cold shoulder thing. Can we please talk?”

You finally set the mug back down, fixing him with a pointed look. “Talk? Like how we talked earlier and you laughed at me?”

He winced, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I thought I was being funny, but I wasn’t. I didn’t realize how much it was bothering you. That’s on me.”

“You made me feel stupid for being upset,” You said quietly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Like I was overreacting.”

His expression softened, and he dropped onto the couch beside you, careful to keep some space between you. “You weren’t overreacting,” He said, his voice low. “I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I was just being an idiot. You know I’m terrible at serious conversations.”

“That’s not an excuse, Lando.”

“I know,” He said quickly. “I know. I’m not trying to make excuses. I just… I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve listened instead of brushing you off.”

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. Part of you wanted to hold onto the anger, to make him sweat a little longer, but the vulnerability in his voice was breaking down your walls.

Lando reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your knee. “I’ll do better,” he sighed, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to make you feel like that again.”

You glanced at him, taking in the way his brows were knit together, the way his lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked genuinely remorseful, and your heart softened despite yourself.

“I just want you to take me seriously,” You said quietly.

“I will,” he promised, his hand gently resting on your knee now. “I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, finally, you let out a small sigh. “Okay.”

His head shot up, hope sparking in his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

He grinned, leaning in slightly. “Noted.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away when he shifted closer, his hand sliding up to your cheek. “I’m sorry again.” He muttered as he shifted even closer.

You didn’t answer, but the way you leaned into him was all the permission he needed. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, then firmer as you kissed him back.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Are you still mad at me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “When am I never mad at you.” Rolling your eyes as you slightly joked. “But, seriously. I am still a little mad.”

He grinned, pressing another quick kiss to your temple before pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ll take what I can get,” he murmured, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

As you leaned into his embrace, the weight of the argument melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love—and the promise to do better.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated!!! ^_^ follow me for more & ask if you’d like to be apart of my tag list!!!!

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress

[4theluvofsapphos]

┊┊★ ⋆ PAYRAISE (NSFW) ⋆ ★┊ ┊

Mean Boss!Agatha x Personal Assistant!Reader

plot ~ you piss off your boss when you threaten to leave and she convinces you to stay the way she always does.

Ao3 Link: here!

AN: 300+ of you voted and some 30% of you guys wanted some Mean!Boss Agatha and Reader spiciness! I hope you guys enjoy. it will probably be kinda OOC I can't see Aggie being this mean in any other universe :,P tags: [[MDNI! 18+]] harsh/absuive language, Agatha basically committing work place harassment, degradation/praise, manhandling/rough, fingering (r receiving), mentions of drunk angry emailing, hair pulling (r receiving), choking (r receiving), titles 'mistress' (a receiving), blackmail(???) or coercion

"I'm leaving." You barked, slamming your resignation papers down on the table with a splayed hand.

You glared at your 'employer', if you could even call her that. She was your boss, but she was also your girlfriend, but she wasn't really. She took you out on dates, she let you borrow her coat. She fucked you.

God, did she fuck you.

But that wasn't enough to keep you around any longer. She had thrown you around since day one, pulling you in with her charm and her sweet smile, only to spit in your face and push you back out the second you got too close to her heart.

She was sat at her desk, arms folded as she stared at her computer screen, no doubt reading over the angry email you had sent her before coming into work the previous night while drunk off some cheap vodka. She made no move to look up, her glasses sliding down her nose as her irises flitted across the choice words you had sent to her.

"I said I'm-"

"You can't. You won't" She retorted, gaze flicking up to glare at you with a pointed expression. There it was...that malice. That disgustingly possessive glowering that she did when she wanted to make you do something. It made your stomach turn and flip with butterflies...or were they wasps?

"No, Agatha. You can't make me stay anymore. You treat me like shit, you work me to the bone. You abuse me, you've made my life a living hell just because you wanted to. Just because you'd rather die than be vulnerable with me."

The brunette's pointed gaze twisted into a snarl and she stood up, her chair sliding back with a loud rattle as its wheels hit the back of the room.

"You're naive, you know that?" She spat, her blue eyes drilling into you with so much hatred-- and something else. Hurt.

You leaned over the table, your index finger jabbing into her sternum as you spoke, emphasising each accusation with a painful poke.

"You're just hurt I don't want to deal with your bullshit anymore. You've finally run out of young girls in Westview to play around with and you're mad about it."

You scowled as she stood, grabbing your forearm and shoving you back. She wasn't that much taller than you, but you wore flats, where she wore heels, and she was able to-- like she always did- look down on you. Peering down over the bridge of her nose, she sneered at you.

"Hurt?" A sharp laugh, a laugh of condescension,"You're the one close to tears, y/n. Don't look at me like I'm the one who hurt you when you are the one who doesn't know when to fucking stop."

You felt your face heat up at the older woman's pointed observation, your lips pursing and brow furrowing as you tried to keep the squeeze in your throat from reaching your eyes. You blinked hard, the tears managing to disperse on your waterline so she didn't have the pleasure of seeing them fall.

"Whatever. I'm leaving." You mumbled, folding your arms to try and comfort yourself and turning on your heel. Before you could get even two steps in, a sharp pain tugged at your scalp, your head throwing back as your hair was forcefully tugged on.

"I can change your mind, y/n..." That honeyed voice oozed into your mind, enveloping all of you and dissolving your common sense. Logically, you knew how this would end. She would fuck you, apologise, and then kiss you and expect you back at the same time tomorrow. Maybe she'd even text you to ask you on a date that coming weekend.

You knew it was her tactic.

She knew it worked.

Those slender fingers moved to cradle the back of your neck, spinning you around so you were face to face again. You were both leaning over her desk, Agatha having pushed her laptop aside in the time that you two had bickered.

"Agatha." You warned, your tone low and shaky.

"Y/n..." She murmured back, her lips pulling into that mischievous little smirk that melted your resolve every time.

With a simple look to the desk, you knew what she was asking. You crawled up, legs coming to swing over and hang off the ledge of the large wooden desk as Agatha settled between your legs. You looked up at her with angry eyes, the annoyance in you clashing with the puppy love she knew you were always eager to give her. "I'm sorry...." She crooned, the hand on the back of your head coming to trace its knuckles along your jaw, rubbing affectionately against your warm cheeks.

Tears welled in your eyes at the apology, not because she meant it-- but because you knew how much of a fool you were being right now.

"...It- Just--" You wiped away your tears, grabbing Agatha's shoulders and crashing your lips against hers in an upset, messy kiss. She hummed against you, hand coming from your jaw to the small of your back, her other hand holding the nape of your neck so she could dip you lower. You felt her tongue forcing its way into your mouth, and you let it happen. The tears fell down your hot cheeks as she huffed and moaned quietly into your mouth. You let her take control. You always let her have control. With a whine that managed to squeeze from your throat, you wrapped your arms around her, fingers interlocked on the small of her back as she pulled you back to your seated position. The fire in your belly was stoked by the look she gave you, lipstick smudged and lips swollen as her hooded gaze caught on your sad eyes. "So you forgive me?" She teased, licking the excess saliva from her lower lip and raising a brow. You didn't reply, simply spreading your legs slightly and leaning back. With a little huff, you looked away, gaze falling to the floor-- feeling your entire body begin to heat up when those strong hands spread your legs wider, pushing your pencil skirt up over your thighs and revealing your panties. "Playing pouty, are you? I'll make you talk, angel." She hummed, one hand keeping the thigh that she wasn't leaning against open, while her other one came to brush her knuckles over your growing wetness. Embarrassment creeped up your neck and reddened your face even further as you whined and keened under her knowing hands. Her gaze flitted up to meet your reddened features,"Something wrong?" She wondered, the pads of her fingers pressing against your clothed clit, its sensitive and puffy state making your entire body stiffen and jolt at the touch.

"Please..." You gasped, thighs attempting to close around her hand but failing to do so. Her grip was iron clad on your thigh and you didn't mind one bit. "Please, who?" She purred, leaning in and pressing her chest to yours as you shied away from meeting her burning eyes.

Agatha didn't like that. Her hand flew up to grip your throat, squeezing firmly and getting your attention instantaneously. Your eyes widened and snapped to hers, fear prcikling up your spine-- pleasure following soon after.

You liked being handled roughly, but this was the first time Agatha had ever been this aggressive...though you couldn't say you disliked it.

"Please, who?" She asked again, the edge in her voice bordering on a growl as she squeezed ever harder. Your vision began to fuzz at the edges as she leaned in, her hot breath puffing against your face. Her other hand was still pressing firm against your clit, occasionally moving in a tight circle.

You keened at the feeling, back arching and pushing you further into her presence. Your gaze held hers, your voice croaky and trembling as you spoke.

"You-- fuh-- You, Mistress." You managed, whimpering when her fingers tightened, before loosening enough for oxygen to flood back into your body. You gasped for breath, ashamed when you felt yourself dripping. "God, look at you...such a little slut for everything I give you. You say you want to be treated better-- but look at the mess you make when I give you what you say you don't want?"

She hooked her fingers around your underwear, opting to pull them to the side instead of taking them off. Her other hand returned to your thigh, bottom lip pulling between her teeth as she revelled in the glistening cunt she knew belonged to her.

"Ag-- Mistress- please please...want you..." You mewled between pants and whines, trying to buck your hips up to meet her fingers. Agatha, ever the tease, pulled her hand back.

"You will take what I give you." She warned, eyes flashing with anger.

You whimpered, hips stilling almost immediately. "Yes, Mistress. I- I'm sorry..." Your response was automatic, pitifully so.

A satisfied smirk settled on Agatha's face at your response, chuckling as she gathered your slick onto her fingers. Holding it up to you, you felt your body flash with shame and embarrassment for the third time this evening.

"Eat." She commanded, and you immediately leaned forward, taking her dripping digits into your mouth with fervour. Agatha watched, satisfaction painted across her face as you lapped at her fingers, sucking them dry as if it wasn't your own mess. Anything to please her.

"Good girl." There it was, that scrap of praise you always longed for. You keened again, back arching as pleasure rolled up your spine and through your core, toes curling in your flats as you stared up at her with big eyes.

She tore her fingers away, the hand on your thigh coming up to wrap around your middle and pull you close as she thrust two fingers into your wanting hole.

"Miss--tress-!" You choked out, your voice breaking and your head falling against her shoulder as you felt her start up a relentlessly brutal pace.

"I'm sorry, baby..." She rasped between thrusts, her arm working in hard, heavy pumps as she pulled you against her, embracing you as she fucked you. "Fuhh-- Mmms'okay...." You gasped out between cries and moans of ecstasy filled pleasure. Agatha seemed to like this response, working a third finger into your leaking cunt. She groaned when she felt your walls fluttering around her hand, every possessive bone in her body flaring up when she heard your voice going breathy.

"Do you forgive me?" She asked, knowing you were in no position to be handing out forgiveness. She was manipulating you right here and now, but you couldn't find it in you to care. "Aggie..." You cried, drool pooling on her expensive blazer as she slammed her fingers into you, palm brushing your clit with every ministration. You felt your mind going blank and your body felt fuzzy and hot...you were going to cum, and she wouldn't let you unless you forgave her.

"I wouldn't want to ruin your orgasm..." She mused, the threat clear on her tongue. You whimpered in response whining and shaking your head. "N-No! Nonono...no, Aggie please please...lemme cum.." You whimpered and grabbed Agatha's wrist, squeezing your eyes shut. "Well, do you forgive me, y/n?" She asked, speeding up her thrusts and chuckling when your other hand dug into her back, nails scratching at the wool of her coat. You growled in frustration, forcing the words to form in your mind.

"Ohh-- fuh...nmmYES! Yes yes yes, yeah I- Oh fuck! I forgive you, ju-just please let me cum! Please!" You babbled, thighs twitching and snapping shut around Agatha's hand as she latched onto your neck, your orgasm crashing into you at the possessive gesture.

Your entire body went stiff and numb, pleasure pumping through your overworked veins as you struggled against Agatha's form, her hand still working you through your orgasm. The pleasure slowly passed, your body spasming and jumping with every brush of your boss's palm against your clit. "Mm-Aggie...'nuff.." You mumbled, weakly pushing her hand away and whining when she only slowed down. She continued to fuck you until your thighs were coated with your own slick, your body slumped against Agatha as you took whatever she gave you.

"I'm so glad we could come to an agreement." She purred, finally detaching from your neck. You were sure it was going to be the biggest, angriest bruise you had ever seen by the throbbing pain in your neck.

Your body stiffened at the comment, and you managed to lean back and glare at her with disapproval. "That wasn't a proper apology, Agatha. You know it." Agatha only smiled, pulling her fingers from you and wiping them off on her blazer, the sticky sheen glinting in the fluorescent light. "I guess I'll just have to keep apologising."

You furrowed your brows at her, hating the way you could feel the heat in your core rising again.

--

no happy ending sorry guys </3 hope you enjoyed! love, rhubarb <3!!

[the-dormant-ocean]

Dean jokes with a woman at a bar that she has amazing tastes for being into him and not into nerds like his brother. She laughs and says "It's not even about that. I just don't find him attractive." and Dean immediately stops laughing.

He is confused, shocked and appalled. He was joking. He cannot phantom that someone can't find Sam attractive. She probably just didn't get a good look at him! There's no way she isn't into tall, wide shoulders, narrow waist, big hands and plainly adorable Sam. He actually goes to fetch Sam to show him to her.

The woman is still not interested in Sam and the conversation is getting heated because is she implying that Dean's brother is unattractive??? Who does she think she is?! The conversation only gets weirder and weirder as Dean keeps praising and raving about his brother's ASSests.

They both get kicked out of the bar for causing trouble and Sam is in utter disbelief at what happened. While they are walking back to the car Sam tears Dean a new one because what the fuck was that??? "Dean, you almost undressed me in the middle of a bar because the woman you wanted to sleep with said I wasn't attractive and then got mad at her when she didn't change her mind! What the fuck is wrong with you???" "Oh, I'm sorry for not wanting to sleep with people with no taste." "What????"

[thesecondhandwoman]

Omg I love the domestic caitvi and their kid😭

How about one where cait or vi was so stressed and tired from work or something and reader just wanted to play but instead cait or vi accidentally lashed out on her and she ran out of the room to her bedroom and started crying and started to think that maybe her mom doesn’t love her anymore or something, in the end cait or vi apologize to reader, they made up and cuddle or play together

A LOVE THAT STAYS

Caitlyn x Vi x kid f!reader

Synopsis: Being Vi and Caitlyn’s little kid had some difficulties, especially when Caitlyn was already tired with work, while you were a little bundle of energy wanting attention. Sometimes leading to some needed apologies.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Part two of Motherly Love.

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon, painting the house in soft, dusky light. Dinner had been eaten, dishes half-done, and the usual hum of warmth filled the home. But something was different tonight. The weight of the day had settled heavily on Caitlyn’s shoulders, her normally pristine posture sagging ever so slightly as she worked through a pile of paperwork at the kitchen table. Her brow was furrowed, her movements sharp, a quiet tension radiating from her.

Vi wasn’t home yet, stuck with her own share of responsibilities. That left you, five years old and bursting with energy, darting around the living room with Bunny in one hand and a superhero cape tied around your neck.

You didn’t notice Caitlyn’s tight jaw or the way her sighs grew heavier each time her pen scratched across the paper. You only saw your mommy—your kind, brilliant mommy who could do anything—and you wanted her attention.

“Mommy!” you called, skipping into the kitchen. Bunny bounced against your side, his floppy ears trailing behind you. “Mommy, look! I’m a superhero!”

Caitlyn didn’t look up. “That’s wonderful, darling,” she said absently, her tone clipped.

Undeterred, you twirled in place, your cape fluttering behind you. “Mommy, did you see? Did you see how fast I can go?”

Another sharp sigh escaped her lips. She set her pen down, finally glancing at you. Her smile was thin and tired. “I see, sweetheart. But I’m very busy right now. Why don’t you play in the living room for a while?”

“But I want to play with you,” you insisted, bouncing on your toes. Bunny jostled in your hand as you held him up toward her. “Bunny wants to play too! Please, Mommy?”

Caitlyn’s patience, already stretched thin, snapped.

“For the love of—darling, not now!” she said sharply, her voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “I have so much to do, and I can’t focus with you underfoot! Just go to your room for a little while!”

Her words hit you like a gust of cold wind. Your small frame stilled, your wide eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Bunny dangled limply in your grip.

“Go on,” Caitlyn said, her tone softer but still firm. “Please, darling. I just need some quiet.”

Without another word, you turned and ran. Bunny’s ears trailed behind you as you bolted down the hallway, your small feet thumping against the floor. Caitlyn called your name only a minute after you ran, but you didn’t stop.

In your room, you curled up on your bed, Bunny clutched tightly to your chest. The superhero cape now felt silly, like it didn’t belong to you anymore. You buried your face against Bunny’s soft fur, the first sob breaking free as your mind spun with unfamiliar and frightening thoughts.

Mommy’s mad at me.

She doesn’t love me anymore.

Maybe I’m too annoying, maybe she wishes I wasn’t here.

The tears came faster, soaking Bunny’s fur as you squeezed him tighter, your chest heaving with hiccupping breaths.

Back in the kitchen, Caitlyn sat frozen, her head in her hands. The echo of her raised voice played on a loop in her mind, each repetition sharper than the last.

She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as guilt clawed at her chest. What was I thinking, snapping at her like that?

Vi walked through the door moments later, her boots clunking softly against the floor. She took one look at Caitlyn’s face and frowned. “Hey, cupcake. You alright?”

Caitlyn shook her head, her eyes tired and full of regret. “I-I snapped at her, Vi. She wanted to play, and I just, I yelled. She ran off crying, and now—” Her voice wavered.

Vi’s face softened. “Hey, hey. We all have rough days. But you know what you gotta do, right?”

Caitlyn nodded, already standing. “I need to fix this.”

Your sniffles had quieted, though tears still clung to your lashes when Caitlyn pushed open your bedroom door. She found you curled up on the bed, your little body trembling slightly as you hugged Bunny close. The sight made her heart ache.

“Darling?” she said softly, kneeling beside your bed.

You peeked at her through red-rimmed eyes, your lip trembling.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Caitlyn whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I had a hard day, but that’s no excuse for being unkind to you.”

You sniffled, your voice small. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Caitlyn’s heart shattered. She scooped you into her arms, holding you close as tears filled her own eyes. “Oh, no, my darling. Never. I love you more than anything in the world. You are my sunshine, my heart, my everything.”

Your tiny hands clung to her shirt as you buried your face in her neck. “Really?”

“Really,” she promised, her voice firm and full of love. “I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

Vi appeared in the doorway, her usual grin softened into something warm and comforting. “Hey, squirt,” she said, stepping inside. “You okay?”

You nodded slowly, still snuggled against Caitlyn.

“Good,” Vi said, ruffling your hair gently. “Wanna know a secret? Your mommy’s a superhero too. She just had a tough mission today.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Caitlyn with wide eyes. “Really?”

Caitlyn smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Really. But the only thing I want to do now is spend time with my favorite hero. What do you say? Forgive me?”

Your bottom lip wobbled again, but this time it was followed by a small, teary smile. “Okay, Mommy. I forgive you.”

The three of you ended up back in the living room, the paperwork forgotten. Caitlyn and Vi worked together to build you a brand-new superhero cape out of an old scarf, complete with Bunny-sized accessories so he could join in your adventures.

When bedtime finally rolled around, you were nestled between them on the couch, Bunny tucked safely under your arm. Caitlyn smoothed down your hair while Vi traced gentle circles on your back.

“Love you, Mommy,” you murmured sleepily.

“Love you, too, darling,” Caitlyn whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love you, squirt,” Vi added, her voice soft and warm.

And in the safety of their arms, you drifted off to sleep, knowing without a doubt that their love was as strong as ever.

A love that stayed, no matter what.

A/N: yes, this part also had another falling asleep ending, but only because I wanted to tie the last line with the title.

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

So... I see this a decade after i decided to simply... Stop instigating conversations because i felt like im simply burdening others with my presence and that they actually felt annoyed having to hear from me and wished i wouldnt send messages.

The thing is that none of them ever approached me afterwards. When we saw each other after a while we would be ecstatic but there was a wall between us already and i dont know if its simply life going on and us being very different than back then, or that they truly didnt see me the same as i saw them (as my besties).

One time i met one of them (this one specifically was my best friend from first grade until twelve basically) on the street and i see that she's married and walking with her husband. Turns out the wedding was that sunday and i wasnt even notified of it happening or of the engagement. I wasnt mad about not being invited, but i was hurt for not even being notified! She then turned to her husband and said that im a friend of her from high school.

Its been a decade from high school so i can see why she said that, but that hurt me so badly that the moment i waved them goodbye and they disappeared around a corner, i collapsed and just sobbed. I was so heartbroken. It seemed that i was the only one who still thought of her as my old school's bestie or had thought of including her in any future milestones simply because she was so important to me.

So i dont know how i feel about this post. I understand where you guys are coming from and its in good intentions, but the main issue is that many kids who become the sole instigators were never shown that they can be vulnerable in front of their friends about this matter. It felt like its your duty and how you contribute to the group. And when it became harder and harder, the friends never questioned why you pulled away or asked for your wellbeing. It turned into a situation when you feel more like a nuisance than a leader.

Fortunately, i have now friends who instigate so much more than me and i keep telling them how i appreciate it and apologise for how terrible i am at texting back and that its never because i dont want them to text me. Its simply because texting or answering messages had become so hard for me and so mentally taxing i sometimes shut down when i see messages i need to reply to.

So rambling aside, as much as i appreciate your sentiment, i think a different approach would be helpful.

My approach (which is not better or worse, just a different approach) is to get comfortable with a 'friends for one day' reality. I go so many times to so many places and meet so many amazing people, we always say we'll contact one another and keep in touch and then never contact one another again, and that's alright.

You have to be comfortable with being friends without focusing on the 'keeping the friendship going' let people come and go. Those who truly want to stick around will stick around, and they usually have a much deeper connection with you that isnt dependant on who instigates the conversations.

My friends are those that mostly text in memes and reels since we dont see each other often. And i do the same in return. Its easier and relays so much more. We have proper conversations here and there, but our actual interactions happen physically. And they instigate meetups much more than i do and i always make sure that they know that i appreciate it. One of my friends and i also have some differences in opinions, so we have some long discussions.

I also have a friend who i dont text to at all but invites me to shabbat meals once in a while and i come over and its like no time had passed. I invite her back for bbq or shabbat as well, but thats also once in a blue moon.

Another friend is across the ocean so its mostly photos and small comments and talks about our lives and since the war began, she keeps checking if im alive and well.

Another friend is also across the ocean and we mostly speak about our realities of being jews or squeal over her precious daughter or make plans for when she finally comes to Israel.

So my friends arent part of one group but many branches of different aspects of my life. I would say i have around seven/eight of them that arent my current co workers (work friendship is also temporary and i accept that fully and enjoy our time together) and im truly blessed because i had let go of the desperate need to keep my friends together.

So please dont call us a bitch for not willing to talk about it. And we're certainly not mini community leaders, we're just people who are friends with those that never cared about reaching out first or affirming our friendship in any kind of way. Its not fair to put the expectations of reaching out onto the one who constantly did that. Friends who truly want to keep up a friendship will attempt to do so when they see that the other side isnt as present as previously.

Sorry im all over the place, im on my phone and its harder to articulate on it

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[asherthehimbo]

Fluffy

notes: idk guys I was bored, uhm mature themse ig? its just an intense make out so people under 15 DNI

pairing: Yunho x implied Chubby! fem! reader

You hated Yunho, absolutely hated him. You hated his handsome face, his god given smile, his hands that looked like they came straight out of your wet dreams. You hated the way he'd drape his jersey over you before a game in hopes you'd wear it, hated the way he'd follow after you like a lost puppy. You hated that you didn't truly hate him. It wasn't his fault, the whispers that followed him, the looks you were given for gaining his attention and despite how much you tried to stop him, your mind couldn't deny the fact that you desperately wanted him.

It's how you found yourself in this predicament in the first place, pushed up against the lockerroom door. Turns out being captain of the team has its perks, like the locked door behind you and the keys that were tossed to the floor along with his shirt a long time ago. Your mouth is bruised by now, your lips red and swollen and breathing labored and you know you need to stop but god you didn't want to. You tug at his hair, trying to remove his lips from yours and he whines, refusing at first but giving in when he eventually needed to breathe.

"Yunho you should- you should really go. We need to-" you try and breathe out, chest heavy as his hands hold your thighs, how he was strong enough to hold you this long you don't know but god it turns you on even more. "Go where?" he asks, his voice that low, breathless timbre that makes your thighs clench around his waist. "here?" his breath fans your neck as he bends his head down, lips tracing the line of your pulse, you let out a shudder as his teeth graze your skin. "or here?" he moves down, teeth nipping at your collarbone before placing a soft kiss over the small indent he left, his action causes you to let out a whimper and you can feel him smirk against your skin, "yeah? you wanted me here? why didn't you say it sooner fluffy?" you hated that nickname too, it would sound demeaning from anybody else but the way he says it makes you feel euphoric.

"stop-you need to stop calling me that" you're pleading at this point, you don't really want him to stop and he knows it, but you need to perserve atleast a little bit of your dignity. "why hm? you're so soft baby, like cream" his lips trail down your collarbone to the deep neckline of your skintight shirt, the one that you were insecure about and the same one that got you in this position in the first place. Your insecurities are the exact things that drive him mad and the knowledge of that makes your thighs tighten their grip around him because you can feel yourself getting weak and you don't want to fall, despite his large hands holding onto them. "Fuck Fluffy with your thighs around me like that you're gonna make me forget my own name" he breathes, removing his lips from your chest as he looks you in the eyes, one hand leaving your legs to hold your cheek, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "You gonna help me remember it? can you say my name fluffy? can you scream it?"

ateez masterlist | navigation

copyright | 2024 | @asherthehimbo

Permanent Taglist: [open] [3/30] @idkwhatto-namethis @leezanetheofficial @seongsangssbitch

[revelboo]

I love how instantly protective Rumble is in Alcohol Eyes. He’s very open about what he wants especially compared to the other Decepticons. He knows he likes this human and he’s willing to show the other people around too :)

He’s pretty much in love- or thinks he is. 18+ 🌶️

Alcohol Eyes Pt 6

Rumble x Reader

• Laughing instead of crying, because he’s so serious about it. And of course, he’s a bit off. Actually believes he’s an alien robot because he’s wearing a costume. You’ve always been able to pick them. So it’s no real surprise, just a disappointment. Smile wavering as your eyes dip down. Snag on that bit of his anatomy that’s still happy to see you despite what you’d just done. And, oh. Yeah, that’s not part of the costume. That’s real.

• “Damn, you are an alien.” Uncertain, he watches you flop on your back with an arm across your eyes. Still not screaming, though. “Holiest of shits, I fucked an alien.” Crawling up your body and bracing himself so his face is inches from yours, your hand bumps his jaw when you move your arm to look at him. Aware of his spike pulsing against your belly, as he waits for you to freak out, reject him. Wanting you to want him still.

• “To be fair, we both did,” he says, voice so solemn about it you start cracking up again. Half tempted to drag him down and go another round, since sanity is already out the window. And because that thick spike is rubbing against you as he shifts over you, leaving a wet smear. Gently pushing against his shoulder until he reluctantly shifts to lay sideways beside you, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Pleasantly sore and desperately needing coffee to make any sense of this madness. “Don’t go,” he murmurs, moving to hook an arm around you and drag himself closer. Feel his mouth on your hip and you shiver as you look down at him.

• “I’m not running away,” you say, soft hand touching his helm as he mouths your warm skin. “But I need to do human things. Do you, um eat? Food?” Rumbling softly as he allows you to slip out of bed, he shadows you as you bend to retrieve a sheer covering off the floor and he moves up behind you, hands on your hips. “Guess the whole alien thing explains the stamina,” you moan, a hand landing on your dresser as he finds and enters you again, keeping you bent forward as he ruts against you.

• Can’t stop himself, just wants to lose himself in the scent and feel of you. Because if this is all he’s allowed, he’s going to enjoy it to the fullest. Wonders if he can just keep you, ask for his own quarters and just take you. Keep you in his berth. As tempting as the idea is, he’s not sure that you wouldn’t come to hate him for it. Part of what he enjoys so much about you is how impulsive you are. How wild. Trapping you might kill that spirit. But he could sneak out and return here, couldn’t he? Spend his nights in your bed. Groaning as his hips snap against you, listening to those scandalous, illicit sounds you make as you take his spike, he never wants this to end.

• You’re not going to be able to walk if he keeps this up, already sore in the best way possible, thighs trembling. Not only meeting your need, but exceeding it. In the back of your mind, there’s concerns, because this sci-fi stuff? You probably need to be asking some questions instead of pushing back to meet his thrusts on a breathy moan. Head dropping as your fingers claw at the dresser top when his thrusts become rougher, wilder, you hear the knock on the front door and swear explosively. Feel him shift against you, grinding against you and tipping you over the edge. Coming apart as his hips snap against you with wet sounds before he’s joining you. And whoever it is at the door is banging on it now. “Want me to kill them?” He growls in your ear, hips rocking shallowly against you. Feeling his excess sliding down the inside of your thigh.

• Laughing, you reach back and push against him until he lets you go and you find your coverup again and slip it on. Seeing his lips thin in disapproval. Hearing him growl that he’ll answer the door. Tempting you to point out that he’s just swinging free right now, but hell, if it’s a census worker or a solicitor at this time of morning, they deserve an eyeful of angry, alien junk. Moving into the kitchen, you get coffee going and play with the hem of your sheer coverup. A present from the last guy, it really doesn’t do anything to actually cover anything. When you hear the door close without any screaming, you turn toward the hall and freeze. Oh, yeah. There’d been two of them, hadn’t there. Your alien bestie and his alien twin. Who’s staring openly at you and your everything not at all hidden by sheer lace. Oops.

Previous

[minnies-puppydoll]

thinking abt skz x hybrid puppygirl reader…

puppy being so so worked up in the middle of the night. it isnt her heat, but she needs to be filled so bad it hurts.

puppy walking to minho’s room, where she finds minho wide awake, already playing with their other puppy, seungmin. hyunjin is sleeping beside them, only half awake and still dozing off.

minho lets seungmin hump himself in minho’s hand. seungmin whines and pleads quietly, trying not to wake anybody. hyunjin is obviously used to this.

puppy watches from the doorway, squeezing her thighs and whining, wanting to join so bad but dumb puppy can’t use her words right. minho looks at her with an evil, knowing smile, purposely now jerking minnie off so you could hear the slick, wet sounds of his pleasure.

“aw. does puppy need to be filled up? puppy wants my cock?”

his teasing words made you ache so much worse, shifting your hips for any friction at all.

“mm, looks like she does. sorry puppy, im already sooo occupied with this one here..look at his face pup.”

minho tightens his grip around seungmin’s cock, stopping sometimes to swirl his thumb around minnie’s sensitive tip. seungmin writhes and grips onto minhos shoulders, muffling his little cries and moans in minho’s neck.

“look at him. you wish this was you? oh, puppy feels so good right now, he’s gonna cum. you wanna see puppy pop a knot right here?”

you actually couldn’t take it anymore. it physically hurt that you were empty right now. his mords and actions are so mean and unfair. thats when you spot hyunjin out of the corner of your eye, still half asleep next to the puppy madness.

“hyunjinnie, please i can’t take it anymore.” you slurred, rushing to his side on your knees. his head was hanging off the bed, now looking at you. he chuckles a little under his breath at the fact that you gave up on minho. but, he makes no move to help you.

you whine desperately as you move your face to the crook of his neck, placing little kitten licks on it. you hear a startled moan from hyunjin, he groans a little when you stop, sitting up and really observing how desperate you are.

you’re dripping at this point. making a tiny mess on the carpet where you are propped up on your knees, hands pawing at the edge of the matress, and posture so upright and obedient. like a good dog.

“please please hyunjin. please fuck me.” you whine, your tail wagging in hopes he’ll cave.

…

soon, he’s giving you exactly what you want. sliding into your slick pussy and pounding into you as deep as he can go. loud moans fill the room, you can’t think about others right now. you’re being fucked so good, all you can think about is his cock.

he always filled you so nicely. his cock is quite long with more of an average thickness. always had you bouncing and babbling on it like a slut.

hyune flipped you over and grabbed your tail, pulling on it while he fucked you even faster from behind. letting you cum around him a good amount of times before you all fall asleep together.

[jenosonlywife23]

No Nut November Regrets

summary; nnn with jaehyun but he actually regrets it cause his about to enlist and his devasted cause he should have used those days to bang you up teehee!!!

a/n; Lets pretend he still hasnt enlisted lol.

-------------------------------------------------------

Jaehyun’s pacing your bedroom like a man possessed, muttering to himself with his hands in his hair.

"Are you okay?" you ask, half-laughing at his dramatic behavior. He’s been acting weird ever since he got home.

"No, I’m not okay," he blurts out, turning to face you with a look of absolute despair. "I’ve made a grave mistake."

You tilt your head, trying to stifle a smile. "What, did you lose a bet? Forgot your phone at the gym again?"

He stares at you like you’ve missed the point of life itself. "Worse. I wasted an entire month."

You blink, thoroughly confused. "A month on what? Your skincare routine? 'Cause, babe, you look amazing—"

He groans, cutting you off. "No Nut November."

There’s a beat of silence before you burst out laughing. "Oh my God, that’s what this is about? Are you serious?"

"I’m dead serious!" he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you know how much time we could’ve spent—" He stops, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the words.

"Spent...?" you prompt, clearly enjoying his struggle.

He sighs deeply, his ears turning red. "Banging," he finally mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You choke on your laughter, clutching your stomach. "Are you actually upset you didn’t? What happened to self-control, proving something to yourself, all that motivational crap you were preaching?"

"That was before I knew I was enlisting!" he practically yells, throwing himself onto the bed like a soap opera heroine. "I thought I had time. But now? Now I’ve got weeks—weeks, baby! And I just... I feel like I’ve betrayed us both."

You sit beside him, trying to hold back your laughter. "So, let me get this straight. You’re mad because you spent thirty days not having sex with me, and now you think you’ve wasted your youth?"

"Exactly!" He sits up, his expression so sincere it makes you want to both laugh and kiss him. "I thought I was doing something noble. But now all I can think about is how many times we could’ve—"

"Jaehyun!" you cut him off, cheeks burning.

"No, listen!" he insists, gripping your hands like he’s about to deliver the speech of a lifetime. "We could’ve been doing it every night, every morning, maybe even on lunch breaks. Do you know how much catching up we have to do now?"

You’re crying with laughter at this point, collapsing onto the bed. "You’re ridiculous."

He flops beside you, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. "Ridiculous and horny," he declares. "And I’ve got no time to fix it."

"Well," you say, leaning over him with a sly smile, "we’ve got tonight. Think you can make up for thirty days in one go?"

He peeks at you from under his arm, his eyes narrowing like he’s accepting a challenge. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day eight ❆ spanking

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

a little mishap at the company christmas party has you subjected to punishment—directly from the hand of your boss. 2.9k

❆ pairing: boss!price x assistant!fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; inappropriate workplace conduct; slight dom/sub dynamic (use of "sir"); spanking (obviously); fingering

Working as the assistant to the head of one of the biggest companies in England invited stress that few could understand. Add in the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, and that stress increased tenfold. Then add in a Christmas party that said corporate head expects you to both organize and attend on top of your regular holiday duties, and the stress might give you a heart attack before the week ends.

It was a miracle that the whole thing managed to go as smoothly as it did. The decorations turned out good, everyone was pleasantly surprised by the secret Santa turnout, and the food was nice. Even the most introverted interns stopped by to chat. By all measures, it was a success. Which meant your boss would happily wear the success and (hopefully) give you a nice bonus for all the hard work.

Until the celebration started to wind down and you spilled nearly half of your wine onto him. Onto his very nice and no-doubt-expensive dress shirt—a white one, at that. You could hear the notice of termination being typed up as soon as you realized who you had bumped into. 

Ever the charmer, he took it like a champ in front of the gaggle of people. Not for your own sake, you imagine; the man had to save face in front of his employees whether it was your fault or not. Still, that didn’t stop you from feeling positively mortified. Cursing yourself for even pouring a drink when you should’ve been making sure everything stayed perfect. So much for a little alcohol to alleviate the mountain of stress on your shoulders.

Everyone else seemed to forget about it rather quickly. And as the festivities died down and people started to filter out, there was no unwanted attention brought your way. But, seeing as the party was your responsibility in the first place, you knew you’d have to stay after and clean up. The few moments alone would’ve been nice…if only you truly were alone.

You couldn’t be mad at John for being a good boss. He stayed over nearly every damn day, worked later than most just to make sure things turned out right. He showed up to the office party because he cared about his employees. Surely you couldn’t damn him for that. But when he sidled past you with a quick “can I see you in my office real quick?” in your ear, you wished he were the careless type to leave early and forget that you even existed. 

You wasted as much time as possible just to avoid seeing him. Mingled with every last person who hung around until they had no excuse left to stay. You tidied up counters and swept the floor best you could. You figured maybe you could walk someone to their car and get yourself out of a reprimand that way. Alas, you realized that it wouldn’t be a good look if the assistant didn’t fulfill all of her boss’s requests. 

You stand outside the door to his office for a good minute, just staring at the wood before you. You’re fully prepared to be scolded. To be ridiculed and belittled and insulted. Not that John had ever done that before—he wasn’t the type to act that way—but you felt so worthless that you figured he might as well.  

Mustering the last of your courage and a hint of apathy, you knock on the door. When you hear his voice invite you in, you hesitate before turning the knob and slinking in. It wasn’t a conscious choice to move slow; it was like you wanted to make yourself seem small and meek as if it’d convince him to take pity on you.

There he was at his desk, pushing a paper to the side in favor of looking your way. The blotch of red wine staining his shirt was painfully obvious. You silently prayed for whatever washing machine would get overworked trying to clean it out.

“You look terrified.” John’s voice cuts through the silence and nearly startles you. You hadn’t even realized how tense your shoulders were. “Everythin’ alright?”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “I…I dunno, sir. Is everything alright?”

“Just fine. The party was nice. Very well done.” He leans back in his chair and you cringe when more of that wine stain comes into view. It almost felt like he was taunting you with it. “Though I shouldn’t expect anythin’ less from you.”

You nod, more out of relief than agreement with his statement. Muttering a small “thank you”, you shift awkwardly on your feet. You expected a scolding, but he was pleasantly warm. There was no anger or upset in his eyes. He didn’t even seem disappointed. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question is surprising, but it’s the tone of sincere curiosity that bewilders you. Not annoyance, or inconvenience. He wanted to know what was wrong, wholeheartedly. It takes you a minute to swallow your pride and give him a half-assed shrug.

“Nothing, sir. Just…stressed, is all.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was probably the mildest way to say you were frustrated and tense and angry and just about every other feasible human emotion.

John makes a sound at that. He shifts in his chair, inching it back from his desk. “‘Course you are. You poor thing…I’ve asked a lot of you lately, haven’t I?” You didn’t know if the smart thing was to agree or deny, but you wanted to sigh with relief that he finally seemed to notice. “That's not very fair of me, huh?”

Did he want you to agree? You decide not to chance it. Instead, you stare at your feet like they’ve become the most interesting thing in the world. Anything felt better than looking him in the eye right now. 

“So, what do you do with all that stress? How d’you manage it, I mean?”

It was a miracle he thought you handled it at all. If you came off well-put together, it certainly didn’t reflect the worry that consumed your private life. “I…don’t, really. I just sort of deal with it, I suppose.”

He snorts, an amused shake of his head. “Well, that’s not very healthy, is it?” Definitely not. But he didn’t know the half of it. “Someone ought to help you manage that stress. I can’t have my assistant on edge all the time.”

Unless he planned on including therapy in your benefits, you didn’t see that working out any time soon. You give him a tight-lipped smile, awkwardly nodding along. Was this what he wanted to talk about..? Scolding you for being stressed was certainly preferable to bringing up your blunder at the party, but that didn’t mean you felt comfortable with it. 

“C’mere,” he beckons you closer with a gesture and a cock of his head. You take a few hesitant steps towards his desk, but he grumbles and gestures again. “Closer. Get over here.”

You freeze for a moment before complying. Why John could possibly want you so close was unknown to you, and your slow steps betrayed your hesitance. You stopped when you stood just before him, mere inches away from his body. It wasn’t unlike him to get close—he seemed to like crowding you—but it felt different this time. 

“Listen,” he starts, reaching out to rest a hand on your waist. “I need you at your best. Your job is very important, and I can’t accept anything less than perfect.” You don’t even notice the slight nod of your head. It was a reflexive response to agree with him, even if it meant agreeing to your own faults. His heavy palm slides down to your hip, squeezing you gently. “And if you don’t give me your best, consequences are in order.”

Your heart sinks. You expect him to dock your pay or pile on ten extra responsibilities to your work load—something that’ll make you feel even worse, no doubt. But when he looks up at you, there’s no sincerity or disappointment in his eyes. Instead, there’s something…eager. Almost like he’s excited when he starts to speak again.

“Seein’ as you’re my assistant, I think a heavy handed approach should suffice.” He squeezes your hip to further his emphasis as he leans forward. He’s so close you can feel his breath against your waist, his lips nearly brushing against you. “Somethin’ a little more personal.”

Oh.

You swallow thickly, your heart beating so hard you fear it might burst out of your chest. Too many emotions conflicted with each other—relief that he wasn’t angry, worried about the implications, excited that he’s propositioned you. It wasn’t rare that you got a little excited thinking about John. He was an attractive man, and the authority only added to the appeal.

HR be damned, you’d think yourself a fool if you never took the offer. “Whatever you think is best, sir.” You didn’t intend for your voice to sound so breathy and coy, but you didn’t fight it. You rest a hand on his shoulder, gripping his shirt tight when his hand suddenly moves to grope your ass. 

“Oh, I know what’s best for my assistant." He leans back, his hands falling away from your body in a movement that almost makes you whine at the loss. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt before patting his thigh invitingly. “She needs bent over and taught about consequences, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The word comes out in a squeak before you can stop yourself. One last look in his eyes and you were ready to give him whatever he wanted.

Taking his implication as your instruction, you bend yourself over his lap, bracing your hands on his thigh once you’re in place. You can hear your own heartbeat, pounding in your head and mingling with every thought telling you this is a bad idea. But then you hear him groan and feel a heavy palm skirt along your back and every doubtful thought is drowned by something much more desperate. 

“This is my favorite skirt of yours, you know that?” John mutters while splaying his thick fingers along your backside. Of course you knew he liked this one—he was never very subtle about it. It’s why you wore it to the party in the first place, only now you wish you’d wore something more flattering than a Christmas sweater to go with it. 

He tugs your skirt up and over your ass without ceremony, scrunching it at your waist until you’re fully exposed. He runs a hand over your soft, pliant skin, squeezing just enough to see the fat spill over his fingers. You gasp at the rough touch but make no effort to move away. If anything, you find yourself arching into the needy movements. 

Then, his hand pulls back and comes down in a sharp smack that takes your breath away. He groans again, watching your body recoil. “Yeah, this’ll do just fine.” He punctuates the thought with another spank. “We’ll see how many you can take before you learn your lesson.”

Another sharp smack of his palm makes you whine. You nod in agreement, but you don’t think he’s much concerned with your input at this point. Two more harsh spanks hit and you hiss when he runs his palm over the spot of impact. The dull sting already throbs under your flushed skin, aching more when he gropes your ass in a tight squeeze. The next spank draws a moan from your lips, the sharp impact sending an unexpected wave of pleasure directly between your legs.

John hooks a finger under the seam of your panties, pulling the fabric to expose more of your flushed skin. “You’re doin’ good, takin’ it well.”

You pause, waiting for a spank that never comes. “Thank you, sir,” you manage to stumble out.

Smack! You jerk at that, biting your lip to stifle a pathetic sound. “You know I’m not mad at you, right?” His movements are as soft as his voice, gently massaging the welt forming on your sensitive skin. “I can buy a hundred more shirts, but I can’t replace you. Certainly not when you’ve shown me how well you can take what I give you.” You whimper at the next sudden spank. “Such a good assistant for me, and I haven’t given you the break you deserve have I?”

You’re not quite sure what the right answer is, but you hesitantly shake your head. The next strike motivates you to verbalize your answer. “No, sir. I haven’t gotten a break.”

“You poor thing…” You barely notice the movement of his hand as it slides off of your battered skin. It’s not until he slides his fingers over the center of your panties that you react, gasping at the sudden (and much needed) pressure. You hadn’t even realized how wet you’d gotten, and judging by his excited groan, neither had he. “You need a break from all that stress, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Pulling the sodden fabric to the side, John exposes your wet cunt and hums in satisfaction when he sees the slick glistening on your sensitive flesh. He grabs you on either side, using his fingers to spread you apart. One hand pulls back to spank your ass a final time, and he watches you clench at the impact. Two thick fingers run up and down your slit, gathering your wet arousal, before prodding at your entrance.

He sinks in with a groan and the sudden fullness takes your breath away. You curse and arch your back, rocking your hips onto his fingers. Your nails dig into his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to pay it much attention. He buries his fingers to the knuckle before pumping them in and out in a steady pace that makes your knees weak. 

“Christ, love, you are tense. This cunt’s fuckin’ squeezin’ me.” His fingers press deep on each thrust, curled and angled just right to make you push against his intrusion. “Is this what you needed? Someone to stuff this pussy full?”

You hum a soft “mm-hmm” and nod your head. But John isn’t satisfied with that; his free hand comes down in a sharp spank that forces a surprised yelp from your lips. “Fuck—yes, sir,” you sputter.

“Yeah, you just need a proper fuck to keep you goin’ huh?” His free hand moves to cup your jaw, tilting your head back until he could see your face. “Fuck, I’ll keep you late every day, bend you over my desk and fuck you as much as you need. Is that what you want?”

Hearing him say it was one thing, but seeing those filthy words come from your boss’s mouth made you clench around his fingers. “Yes…yes, sir,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading as you look up at him. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Your head lolls forward when he releases your jaw. His hand fucks into you rougher, quick and sharp pumps that make you keen, almost like he’s too impatient to keep going slow. He bullies that sensitive spot inside you until you start to tense and quiver on his lap. His heavy palm brushes over your welted skin, kneading your ass just to hear the whimpers it draws from you. 

You hold onto his thigh, nails digging into his pants as you try to hold yourself steady. “J-John, m’gonna…fuck…” It’s near impossible to squeak out the words with the constant pressure filling your cunt. 

“I know, love. You’re gonna cum for your boss, aren’t you?” 

“Mm-hmm—”

“Yeah, gonna soak my fuckin’ lap with it? Make another mess on me?”

It sounded filthy when he put it like that. And while getting reminded of your embarrassing blunder at the Christmas party was the last thing you wanted to think about right now, you couldn’t deny that it certainly motivated you to make another mess. Especially when he was so eager for this one.

You couldn’t even form the words to properly warn him. You were sure he could tell by the tight pull of your slick walls around his fingers that you were toppling over that edge fast. Between his encouragement and the perfect fit of his digits, he was coaxing out all of your pent-up energy. And it hit you hard.

You were a quivering, dripping mess on his lap. Gushing around his fingers, clenching tight like you were trying to suck him in deeper. Your knees were so weak you weren’t sure you could stand back up. John slid his fingers out and delivered one final spank to your flushed skin. You think he mutters a soft ‘good girl’, but you find it hard to hear him properly as you catch your breath.

Raising off of his lap, you adjust your clothes and pull your skirt back into its proper position. Your legs are weak and your ass stings with every movement. You aren’t sure whether to thank him or apologize—so you settle for neither. The silence sits heavy in the room as you trudge to the door to take your leave. You could worry about facing him next week when you were alone, in the comfort of your home, and thinking straight.

Then, you hear him call out your name as soon as your hand touches the doorknob. You turn just enough to see his figure in your peripheral. Still sat with his legs spread and his sleeves rolled up, but now with a rather obvious hand palming himself through his pants. If you had any less restraint, you might’ve walked yourself back over to him. 

“I’ll see you Monday, yeah?” You nod at the sound of his gruff voice. “Do me a favor n’ wear that skirt again, sweetheart.”

You smile, mainly to yourself. “Yes, sir.”

[fluffyk97]

Sonic 3 spoiler rambling about Sonic and Shadow under cut !

Y'know something that I feel might go lil under-appreciated is how well they made Sonic and Shadow mirror each other in the movie.

Like something that always can easily irk me are people boasting one of the two over the other because from the very beginning of his introduction to the series, Shadow's character is meant to reflect Sonic. They're meant to be equals that are so similar and complete opposites at the same time.

With the movie, I honestly wasn't expecting it that much. Sonic actually has a backstory that is just like Shadow's: powerful little hedgehog that is wanted for his power, so the one he's known his whole small life that he loves sacrifices herself to save him.

I fr fully expected Sonic to learn about Maria and be like "I lost Longclaw, I know you're pain, but-" blah blah blah- BUT they don't do that??

Of course, we have Commander Walters first telling Sonic that Shadow's story is a lot like his but wasn't able to find family and friends, and Sonic does find Shadow had a family from finding a picture of him and Maria together. He never gets told what happened exactly though, although it wouldn't make too much of a difference with the fact they did change up Shadow losing Maria just a little bit.

Since they didn't live up in space, Maria didn't have a capsule to send Shadow off with sacrificing herself and instead they made it an accident. WHICH- can be understandable if people don't like that, however personally I don't mind it that much because honestly the intent to shoot Maria was there, but she ended up being lost from an accident caused by Walters.

Which, ties in to Shadow hurting Tom...

Walters in trying to help save Maria's, Shadow's and Gerald's lives unfortunately led to Maria's death and watching Shadow be put in stasis for 50 years where all he thinks about is that painful memory burned fresh in his head. So of course when Shadow sees Tom disguised as Walters, he takes his anger out on him by hurting him while also stealing the key for the ARK. Leading to unfortunately another scenario of where the intent of harm is there, but someone still got hurt from an accident because Shadow never really meant to hurt Tom. But he does anyway..

Which of course in turn, makes Sonic mad just like Shadow was 50 years ago. Only difference is Sonic doesn't get immediately captured by GUN and forced into stasis. Letting him able to go straight to Shadow afterwards for hurting his family.

We have Shadow take note of all of that himself, telling Sonic he's feeling exactly the pain he felt and Sonic being the one to say "I'm nothing like you!". Just like how I thought Sonic would tell Shadow about Longclaw in hopes of redeeming him, but reversed and both sides full of anger and grief.

One awesome super fight later though, we come to the talk on the moon. Probably my favorite part in the whole movie. outside of the super fights and Live and Learn playing lol

After mentioning Tom and getting uppercutted straight to the moon by Sonic, Shadow loses his super form, leaving him vulnerable, easy for Sonic to take his revenge on him. Only for all of that to be stopped because of Shadow pointing at his own chest which reminds Sonic what Tom told him at the beginning of the movie and calm down.

"You didn't let pain change who you are."

This completely baffles Shadow, with him actually wanting Sonic to finish it, but of course Sonic just refuses saying "No one wins with revenge". It just leaves silence between them, finally giving Shadow his own moment of remembering Maria outside of her death by looking at the stars he used to gaze upon with her.

He mentions it to Sonic how all he knew and felt was just the pain, and now finally- FINALLY, Sonic mentions how he shares that feeling of loss from Longclaw. Not in a moment of trying to just redeem Shadow without the full weight of it, but in a moment of understanding.

A strong moment of these two looking at each other in a mirror, eye to eye. Sonic, who was allowed to grieve all those years ago after losing Longclaw, telling Shadow the pain of loss will never go away, but the love will always remain.

"The light shines, even though the star is gone."

And through that shared pain and loss, now coupled with empathy and understanding one another through it. They truly connect.

Sonic and Shadow's dynamic was just done SO WELL in the movie and I couldn't be happier with it...

[captain039]

Blood, Fur and Magic PART 11

Vampire Viktor x reader x Werewolf Jayce

Warnings: Vampire things, werewolf things, light swearing, possessiveness, smut, sexual, intimacy, poly relationship, angst, violence swearing

Previous part <-

You feel rattled from what you saw in your dream, trying harder to create the bond with Jayce and feeling all the more defeated when you can’t. You spend more time alone now when you realise it’s not working, it just suddenly happened with Viktor and now you can’t give that same bond to Jayce making your heart clench in your chest. You stand in the shower watching the water at the bottom of the shower mind a mess, muscles unable to relax under the warm water. You stand there lost in thought before you sigh and get out, you dry your hair with a towel before drying yourself off and wrapping that towel around your body and stepping out the bathroom. You jump a bit when you see Viktor and Jayce on the edge of your bed before a small frown is on your face.

“Did you need something?” You ask. Jayce looks at you and beckons you over, you raise a small eyebrow but walk over. You sit in between them both holding your towel to your chest so it doesn’t slip off.

“You couldn’t wait till I got dressed?” You joke softly seeing the small red blush that creeps up Jayce’s neck.

“No he couldn’t” Viktor teases and Jayce glares at you both.

“Look, before you both start poking at me, I just- we’re worried about you” Jayce says running a hand through his hair.

“Oh” you mutter shoulders sagging. You’re tempted to keep it all in, but when has that done anyone any good?

“I’m just frustrated” you say.

“About the bond?” Jayce asks.

“The lack of one” you clench your jaw before you sigh.

“It’ll come” Jayce mutters leaning to you resting his head against yours.

“What if it doesn’t?” You whisper.

“It will” Jayce says so certain and confident it almost makes you believe it.

“For now, I want you to relax” he says lowly in your ear and you sag a bit not catching his meaning, thinking about cuddling up in the bed instead.

“Little Láska” Viktor chuckles smoothly and you frown.

“A different form of relaxation” he says and you look to him confused before it clicks and you flush, sometimes you forget he can share your thoughts.

“Oh” you stutter out. You feel like a teenage virgin for crying out loud, your body warm, your stomach clenching in anticipation.

“Would you like that?” Jayce asks lifting his head off yours his golden eyes glowing intensely.

“Would I like- relaxation?” You repeat stupidly. Viktor chuckles behind you and you glare at the vampire.

“Among other things” Jayce says huskily eyes trailing down your form. You grip the towel a little closer feeling rather exposed compared to the two clothed men.

“If you’re uncomfortable we don’t have to, we can cuddle” he says seeing your hesitation.

“No” you say too quickly and flush even more Jayce’s eyes widen before he smirks a bit. You can practically feel Viktor’s cocky smirk beside you as well.

“Stop it” you huff and Jayce chuckles softly.

“I’m not good with- this” you gesture vaguely.

“Oh really?” Viktor teases and you turn your body to face him a glare on your features.

“Do you want to sleep outside while me and Jayce-“ you break off realising you can’t say it.

“While you and Jayce?” Viktor presses.

“You know what, stuff you both” you say and stand.

“Wait, sweetheart” Jayce stands too.

“We’re sorry ok? You’re easy to tease” he says smiling gently his hand cupping your face and you can’t help but melt into his large paws.

“I’m sorry Láska” Viktor says his hands on your shoulders his head resting against yours. You sigh wanting to stay mad but can’t.

“You’re forgiven” you mumble.

“Good” Viktor whispers his breath fanning against your ear. It sends a shiver up your spine goosebumps along your arms and your hand clenching the towel even tighter.

“How do you want us?” Jayce asks voice dropping an octave.

“Want you?” You repeat the question finding yourself flushed again. Viktor hums along your neck his nose trailing over the sensitive skin. You feel your brain short circuit for a moment.

“I-“ you can’t find words suddenly just needing them both very close, your magic thrums with you and you silently curse the way your runes glow brighter.

“Shall we take the lead sweet thing?” Viktor asks and you nod thankful for the question.

“Can I…” Jayce steps closer his hand lifting up and hover above your towel where you clasp it tightly. You gulp a bit but remove the towel yourself letting it drop to the floor in a puddle. Jayce sucks in a breath as his eyes trail down your body in a way that makes you flush and look away.

“You’re so beautiful” he mutters sounding out of breath.

“The runes” he mumbles in awe.

“Are ugly and annoying” you state and both men freeze.

“Ugly? No” Viktor says as you feel his hands on your sides.

“This arcane magic in you is beautiful, raw, unknown” Viktor says pressing his lips to your shoulder where a rune is. The feeling intensifies, a light throb from the rune his lips are pressed against.

“And they responded so beautifully to being touched” he hums more to himself than anyone. You look to Jayce whose eyes are still roaming over your body.

“He’s right” he says his eyes meeting yours.

“The way they pulse gently with magic, the way they react to us” he steps closer his face now inches away from yours.

“What you can do with it” he murmurs before his lips are on yours gently kissing you. You melt into him kissing back eagerly while Viktor kisses at your neck. You frown a bit in thought wondering why Viktor always ends up behind you. Viktor chuckles as if hearing that thought not making you at all surprised if he did.

“Jayce” Viktor says and Jayce hums against your lips.

“Switch” he orders gently and Jayce leans back a knowing look in his eyes. You watch Jayce move behind you and Viktor move in front of you.

“Mm, good boy” Viktor mutters and you can hear the blush and small intake of breath. Viktor kisses you commanding your attention. It’s so different from Jayce’s kisses, Jayce is eager, passionate Viktor’s feel consuming, hungry.

“I’m always craving you” you freeze when his voice echos in your mind and you pull back with a gasp.

“That’s new” Viktor mutters.

“What happened?” Jayce mutters against your neck.

“He- he spoke into my mind” you say and Jayce lifts his head.

“Really?” He asks and you nod.

“Wow” he adds softly and you feel guilt over come you. You turn and hug Jayce tightly making him freeze for a moment before he wraps his arms around you.

“I’m not upset sweetheart” he says softly against your head.

“I am and I would be” you say holding him tighter. Jayce just chuckles softly and you want him to be mad, upset anything but this acceptance. Viktor steps closer his hand gently rubbing your back.

“Jayce understands” Viktor says in a soft tone.

“I don’t care” you say back.

“I do understand though” Jayce quips softly.

“Right now though, I’m having a hard time concentrating with your naked body pressed against me” his voice lowers again and you flush forgetting momentarily.

“I’m- uh- sorry” you step back covering your breasts with your arms making Jayce chuckle softly.

“Lie down” he cocks his head to the large bed. You hesitate realising you’re not in your own house, but your body thrums with need. You sigh and walk over to the bed before you move your arms from your breasts and glance to the two men who watch you intently before you lie down in the middle. Viktor moves first moving as silent as a shadow as he lies down next to you. You watch Jayce as he unbuttons his jacket and shrugging it off before his shirt. He stalks closer to the bed eyes glowing as he shrugs off his shirt. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, you knew he had a Greek gods body, but seeing it is another thing. The few scars he has reminds you of chips in sculpture still so beautiful but withered from time and hardship.

“An accurate description” Viktor says and you look to him seeing his own eyes trailing over Jayce’s muscles. Jayce flushes a bit and Viktor smirks.

“A body of a Greek god” he adds eyes roaming shamelessly and you see the muscle in Jayce’s jaw tense under the attention of you both. Jayce moves kneeling on the bed his hands sliding up your right leg. He kisses your ankle then shin, then your knee and thigh, your heart rate increases as he kisses your hip and up your stomach, managing to kiss a rune each time. It feels like a small current going through your body as he kisses the middle of your chest and up your collar bone before his breath mingles with yours.

“Our Arcane goddess” Jayce mutters before kissing you with renewed passion. You let out a small moan in response eyes still open as you watch Viktor’s hand tangle in Jayce’s longer hair. Jayce leans into him as he kisses you before he parts panting softly. Jayce moves his head and Viktor leans closer, you watch them, the swirl in Viktor’s eyes and the bright brilliant gold in Jayce’s before Viktor presses his lips to Jayce. Jayce moans this time tilting his head to deepen the kiss eagerly his free hand cupping your jaw still managing to include you. Viktor pulls back and you notice the red on his lips a small frown appearing. Viktor smirks his tongue running along his lips.

“You taste wild, untamed” Viktor says and Jayce flushes. Viktor is quick to kiss you this time while you feel Jayce moves lower down your body pressing his lips to the middle of your chest again before his breath ghosts over your left breast. Your own breath hitches as Jayce kisses the rune directly on your breast just above your nipple, it feels more sensitive, a tingle going through your chest. Viktor kisses you deeper while Jayce’s mouth moves down around your nipple and gently sucks on it, his tongue swirling around the bud. You pull back having to breath in quickly your hand gripping the sheets under you. You feel Jayce’s free hand cup your other breast having not noticed Viktor’s hand there already. Jayce growls lowly in his throat his eyes flashing wild.

“Possessive” Viktor chuckles but moves his hand. Jayce stops his eyes flicking up in apology. Viktor cups his cheek and gently strokes his cheek, Jayce sighs softly leaning into the touch before returning his mouth to your nipple before moving to the other one. You grip Viktor’s arm with your hand for some stability but frown at his full clothing attire. He smiles a bit before he stands making Jayce stop and watch. Viktor undoes his own shirt sliding it off his pale body, his smooth skin and lean muscles reminding you a smooth sculpture. Both men’s bodies were a work of art, Jayce’s hardened by days and nights in the forge and recent battles. Viktor’s slender muscles, lean and perfect for a creature of the night. You feel self consciousness kicking in having not quite been blessed with such smoothness or muscles. Viktor turns to you a frown on his face as his eyes trail your form.

“What is she thinking?” Jayce asks.

“She is self conscious of her body” Viktor answers and you silently wish the bond didn’t share that.

“Why?” Jayce says like he’s baffled and you sigh covering your eyes with your arms. Instead of being smooth as stone or muscles you’ve got runes embedded into your skin, your body nothing like there’s in artistic perfection.

“This is our body” Jayce says his tone possessive as you look down at the bright golden glint in his eyes.

“Our perfect mages body who’s been through so much” he nuzzles against your chest.

“A body filled with sweetest blood” Viktor lies back down next to you.

“Strength” Jayce adds.

“Kindness” Viktor adds.

“Love” Jayce murmurs against your skin holding your sides gently. You feel tears prick your eyes and take a shaky breath.

“Sweet thing” Viktor murmurs moving your arm and kissing you with a softness that surprises you.

“Don’t ever be self conscious of this” Jayce says with light determination and a gently squeeze at your sides.

Next part ->

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