#…chestnut..soft coat

[diadotcom]

bradley rooster bradshaw cow

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ THE FIRST FALL OF SNOW

Pro Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight in the public’s eye, is finally on his way home. The moment he clocked out, he was Bakugou Katsuki.

The apartment door swung open, and Bakugou trudged inside, every step weighed down by the exhaustion of the day. His back ached from the relentless action-packed hours at work (somehow, during the holidays, villains were at their peak action), and the chill of winter clung to his skin, even through the layers of his winter gear earlier. He’d been looking forward to collapsing onto the bed and shutting the world out for the rest of the night.

He let out a grunt of frustration, yanking his scarf off as he called out, “I’m home.”

Bakugou was greeted by your voice. Too chipper, as if you had something planned.

“Perfect timing! Go change into something warm; we’re going out!” you said, a spark of excitement lighting up your tired features. You had on your favorite scarf and coat, your cheeks flushed from the cold air that must’ve blown in while you’d been waiting for him.

Bakugou frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re kidding, right? It’s freezing, and I just got home.”

“I’m not kidding.” Your smile widened, undeterred by your husband’s gruffness. “You need to relax, and I need to check out the sale on the market. We’re going downtown, just for a little bit. Please?”

“No,�� he scoffs.

“Come on, Katsuki,” you pleaded. “You’re always working, and I’ve been stuck inside all day. Just a quick trip downtown to relax. Please?” You pouted slightly as you repeated the request, though your tone remained playful, knowing it would chip away at his defenses.

“Can’t we relax here? You know, like normal people?”

“Normal is boring. We can relax after we go out and see the town. Please? I’ll make dinner when we get back!”

Dammit, you knew how to pull at his strings.

Bakugou groaned, tugging at the tight fabric of his jacket. He hated the cold, hated the thought of walking around aimlessly in weather that bit at his skin. But as he looked at you—your hopeful expression, the way your eyes sparkled with the promise of something simple yet special—he sighed, already knowing he couldn’t refuse.

Knowing he’d already lost, he crossed his arms. He’d always had a soft spot for you (you must’ve put a curse on him once he gave you his valid “I do” at the altar, he thinks), and no amount of exhaustion could override the tug in his chest when you looked at him like that.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re carrying the hot chocolate if we get any.”

Your grin was instant, and you tugged at his arm. “Deal. Now hurry up and get dressed into something warmer before I change my mind.”

---

The streets of Musutafu were already in the holiday spirit, and it was only the first of December. The glow of streetlights reflected off frosted windows, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts wafted through the air—it was a scent to appreciate. Bakugou’s hands were stuffed deep in his pockets, his scarf pulled high over his face, as he grumbled every so often about the cold or his aching shoulders.

“This better be worth it,” he grumbled, kicking a stray piece of ice off the sidewalk.

“It is worth it,” you countered, practically skipping beside him. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and this is exactly what you need—some fresh air and a change of scenery.”

“I’d rather have fresh air from our bedroom.”

You shot him a playful glare. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, and you’re a pain,” he shot back, though his lips twitched upward just slightly.

It’s also a good thing that not many were wanting his autograph or a picture because Bakugou was not in the mood to entertain anyone aside from you.

You led him to a small square near the center of town, where festive decorations were strung across trees and lampposts. Children bundled up in cute, thick winter clothes ran around as their fits of giggles filled the air, and vendors sold warm snacks and drinks from cozy stalls. You tugged him toward one of the benches, your excitement bubbling over.

“Look at this place! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Bakugou looked around, taking in the bustling scene. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it wasn’t half bad—but he’d never say it out loud. Instead, he just shrugged. “It’s alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible to impress.”

“Not true,” he said, smirking slightly. “You impressed me.”

“Ok, sap,” you snorted, though you were quick to hide how it made you feel all giddy. “And did you know that—”

And Bakugou could only listen to you with his brows slightly knitted to an unamused expression, though he didn’t want to burst your bubble even if he was exhausted.

Without even noticing at first, the first snowflake fell, soft and delicate, landing on your scarf. You stopped mid-sentence, glancing up as more began to drift down, tiny, icy kisses from the sky. Bakugou paused too, his eyes narrowing as a flake landed on his nose.

“It’s snowing,” you murmured, a note of wonder in your voice.

Bakugou squinted up at the sky, unimpressed. “Great. Now it’s even colder.”

You ignored him, stepping slightly into the open square, your head tilted back as you let the snowflakes land on your hair and cheeks. Your face lit up with childlike wonder, and for a moment, Bakugou was suddenly reminded how lucky he was to be married to you.

Bakugou watched you silently, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. You looked radiant, the soft glow of the snow reflecting off your skin, your cheeks flushed from the cold. Your lips parted slightly as you caught a snowflake on your tongue, and you laughed softly at the sensation.

His chest tightened, his earlier complaints fading into nothing. The aches, the cold, his uncomfortable winter clothes—none of it mattered. All he saw was you.

You turned back to him, your smile warm and teasing. “You’re just going to stand there and sulk, or are you going to enjoy this with me?”

He huffed, walking toward you. “I’m not sulking,” he muttered.

“Sure, sure.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “Come on, Katsuki. Isn’t this beautiful?”

He looked at you, at the way your eyes shimmered with glee, the way you smiled despite the cold nipping at their noses. “Yeah,” he said softly, surprising even himself. He’s most likely referring to you rather than the scene before him, more likely. “It is.”

“Wait, are you actually admitting you like something?”

“So? I like you, and we’re married. It’s not that shameful to admit the obvious, dummy.” He grumbled, though his hand tightened around yours.

“Not that! I meant it’s snowing; isn’t it beautiful?”

“Could care less about shaved ice falling from the sky.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and Bakugou did the same, which made you laugh.

You two stood there for a while, watching the snow fall around you, the rest of the world fading into the background. For once, Bakugou wasn’t thinking about work, stress, or anything else. All he could focus on was the woman beside him and how, for the first time in a long time, everything felt just right.

And even though Bakugou still hated the cold, he found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, winter wasn’t so bad after all—because it meant moments like this. Moments with you.

It must’ve been Christmas magic to see you during the first fall of snow, taking his breath away with how you looked, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything this damned world had to offer.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's still a couple miles from home when the van dies. The engine gives a few pitiful putters before groaning and rolling to a definitive stop. He drops his head to the steering wheel, letting out a groan of his own.

He was at the Hideout, it's like 1am, and he can't sleep out in the van, not after last time, when Powell found him.

He's walking home. The shortest route is to cut through the woods, which he hates, but the moon is out and there's still some leftover late-August mugginess in the air, so it's fine. It's fine. Not like there's anything to be scared of in the forests of Hawkins, Indiana.

He's close to home when he trips on an exposed root, scrapes his hand against the sticks and rocks on the forest floor.

"Fuck, shit," he mutters. In the weak light of the moon, he sees the gleaming red seeping from the cut on his palm. It stings. He swipes it on his jeans, keeps going.

The nature sounds go quiet all at once, like someone turned them off, and goosebumps raise on the back of his neck.

Further into the woods, off to his left, something lets out a high-pitched chitter, nothing like he's ever heard before. His heart rate skyrockets, feet moving faster now. There's a flashlight in the van he wishes he thought to bring with him; why hadn't he grabbed it?

He hears the snap and crackle of branches and dead leaves under heavy feet, the crashing through the woods growing louder as the thing moves closer. In the dark of the trees he sees a massive, hulking shape, certainly not human, running straight at him.

Eddie stumbles back--

A dark shape leaps from the woods to his right, a strangled scream slips from his throat but--

It's a...dog?

That doesn't make sense, it's too big, too--

It positions itself in front of Eddie, thick growl rumbling straight through his bones.

This close, he can see that it's a wolf, but that's wrong too. There aren't wolves in Indiana, and it's still too big, bigger than any wolf he's ever seen on Wild Kingdom.

It snarls, creeps towards the other creature still lurking between the trees.

He's terrified to move, to get the attention of either of these things, but then the wolf turns, illuminated in the moon glow. Its coat is thick, chestnut and light brown. Its eyes are bright hazel with flecks of gold, clear and intelligent. His stomach swoops, but not with fear.

It whips its attention away, but it's pressing against him, pushing him back towards civilization.

A fleshy, wet humanoid leg emerges from the tree line and the wolf makes a terrible noise as it lunges. He takes off running.

His body wasn't made for sprinting, but he keeps going until he reaches the trailer, until he throws himself through the front door. He stays there, leaning against it, until he stops shaking. He needs a joint, like ten of them, needs to forget this night ever happened, because what the fuck.

Later, when he's so high he can't move, he can't stop thinking about the wolf's eyes, that there was something weirdly familiar about them.

The next morning, he hardly remembers any of it.

When he bothers to go to school the next week, Steve Harrington says hi to him, even though they've never spoken before.

He doesn't go back into the woods.

---

Steve keeps saying hi to him, like it's normal for them. Then again, Steve now spends most of his time with this junior from band, Robin Buckley. Anyway, who the hell knows what's normal anymore.

There's this one night in early November, he's smoking on the porch, giddy from finishing a song, smiling up at the full moon.

And he's so happy, elated, electrified by creativity, that he forgets about the woods, finds himself staring right into them.

A pair of golden eyes stare back.

He's not afraid.

That same swooping sensation from before grips his stomach, doesn't let up.

The wolf steps forward, not out of the trees, just closer. Without thought, he mimics the move.

There's a soft rustle of brush and the eyes blink out. Eddie keeps staring, transfixed. His heart's speeding but not with fear.

---

By January, he's actual, real life friends with Steve Harrington. They're hanging out like that's a regular thing they do. He supposes, by now, it is.

He also meets the gaggle of eighth graders that follow Harrington around like ducklings. When they find out he runs a dnd club, they become obsessed with him too.

He doesn't see the wolf again.

---

Eventually, he forgets all about why he's supposed to avoid the woods.

He plans a deal at Skull Rock, thoughtless, and once he's there he's not scared at all. The sun is high in the sky, the air warm, birds swoop and sing and insects chirp.

Eddie clamors up the rock, pulls his notebook and a pen out of his back pocket.

He only means to stay for a little bit, maybe an hour or two, but it's so nice out, and you can't really blame a guy if his eyes get a little heavy. If maybe he doesn't quite try to fight the urge to sleep.

When he wakes up, it's full dark.

The moon is out, stars bright, but the birds are gone and so is the heat of the day. He shivers, and it's got very little to do with the cold. If he runs, he can make it back to the van in five minutes, probably less.

A creeping chitter crackles through the air and the night bugs go quiet.

Eddie curls his knees into his chest. He remembers now, why he needed to stay out of the forest.

There's a shadow that separates itself from the cover of the underbrush. It moves in silence, not even a stick or a leaf cracking where it steps. It stops in front of the rock, lips pulled back to reveal long, deadly teeth. It's growling softly.

The wolf.

"I'm sorry," Eddie says. Doesn't know why he's talking to it. "I lost track of time, I--I'm sorry."

The wolf tosses its head, annoyed, and again he's struck by the odd familiarity of the gesture. It turns its attention from him, pacing along the clearing, Its body carefully placed between Eddie and whatever is lurking in the deeper forest.

Hours pass that way, the wolf's focus never faltering even when nothing appears. The sky brightens, and the danger doesn't seem so immediate. The wolf lays down at the base of the rock formation, and Eddie finally lets himself relax too. He falls asleep between one blink and the next.

A bright beam of sunlight hits him just across the eyes, dragging him back to consciousness. There's a hazy second where he doesn't remember anything about where he is or what happened, but it's kind of hard to ignore what sleeping on a big rock does to your body.

He also realizes--he's not alone. There's someone on the rock with him. Someone sturdy and radiating heat, their body nestled tight against his.

Eddie springs up, heart racing, to find--

Steve Harrington. Naked Steve Harrington. Curled up with him on Skull Rock. What the fuck

He thinks he's going to choke on his tongue.

Steve is gorgeous. So fucking hot. All his sun-kissed skin on display, the constellations of freckles and moles, and--god, he's just a little bit hard. And Eddie gets it, okay, he knows it just happens sometimes, but Steve's a little hard, and perfectly pink at the tip, and Eddie--

He pulls the leather jacket from around his own shoulders, places it over Steve's waist, but even though he's careful--gentle--Steve stirs, nose wrinkling.

Eddie draws away, nervous, as Steve blinks to wakefulness, staring right at him.

"Wha--" he wipes the sleep from eyes his and Eddie watches as understanding dawns on Steve's handsome face. "Oh. Fuck."

And Eddie, he's putting it together, he thinks. He thinks--the familiar golden hazel eyes and the annoyed shake of the head and--it's not possible. It's not. But how is Steve here right now? Why is he naked? What reason besides--

"It's you?" He breathes, doesn't even really mean to say it aloud.

Steve gives one sharp nod, looks away.

"You're a werewolf?" Eddie's voice breaks.

"Shu--it's not--I'm--" Steve's shoulders sag. "Yeah, I guess I'm a werewolf."

"Holy shit, Steve. Holy. Shit. Are there more? Jesus Christ."

"I'm the only one that I know of."

"But-- Weren't you bitten? Or--don't tell me--were you born like this?"

"Um. I was bitten by a dog that seemed completely normal. Obviously--" he gestures to himself. "Something was going on there. We think--"

"Sorry, we? There's a we?"

"Oh, well, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan know. So do Dustin and the rest of the kids. Joyce Byers. Hopper--"

"The POLICE CHIEF knows you're a WEREWOLF," Eddie yells. It startles some birds in a nearby tree, making both he and Steve flinch.

Steve's ears go red. "Hop, he's not--not bad. We--he's helped us out a couple times. Um, there's also a doctor? Who knows? He works for the government and he's trying to figure out why I'm, you know."

"What the fuck, Steve. Like. What the fuck? A government doctor knows you're a werewolf?"

"It's um. You've heard the stories about something being wrong with Hawkins?" Eddie nods. "They're not just stories."

It's a lot to take in. That Hawkins really is cursed, that Steve really is a werewolf, that--

"So, that was actually a--a monster? In the woods? And you--you were, what, looking out for me?"

"Well, I wouldn't need to if you stopped going into the goddamn forest!" There's that annoyed head shake.

"I didn't mean to!'

"What about yesterday??"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep!"

"For fuck's sake, Eddie!"

"I'm sorry!" He throws his hands up. "You could've told me there was a monster."

Steve glares. "Yeah, cause that's an easy conversation. 'Hey, Ed, just so you know, monsters are real. I'm kinda one of them. And some of them in the woods around Hawkins want to eat you'."

"It would've been helpful! And that night, at the trailer, you were--?"

"Making sure you were okay."

"But. Why?"

"Don't you feel it?"

And Eddie doesn't even have to ask what it is. "Yeah, I--yeah."

Their eyes lock and his stomach goes all warm and swoopy. Eddie forces a laugh, forces himself to look away. "So, being a werewolf made you gay?"

Steve coughs out a choked sound. "No, I--no. I was--before."

Honestly, this information is more shocking than Steve being a werewolf. "But--King Steve. All those girls?"

"Robin thinks I was--um--what's it called? Like using that to avoid that I'm also attracted to, you know, dudes. "

"And--it's--Sorry, but this is insane. It's me? That you like?"

Steve laughs. "Why is it easer to believe that I'm a werewolf?"

"I don't--I guess it's cause I've seen you as a werewolf."

"To be fair, you've also seen me, who is gay."

"That's--that's--" Eddie splutters. "Fair."

"Do you remember performing in that talent show?" Steve asks.

"In junior high? Yeah."

"I thought you were really--you did a good job."

"Oh. You--huh." Eddie hides his face in his hands, tries to smother the laugh, but it's impossible.

"Don't--" Steve shoves at him, "Don't laugh! I--you were cute! Goofy! I thought you had nice hands!"

"That's all it takes?" He smirks, can't help but be pleased that Steve's had a crush on him all this time, that it's always been mutual.

"You were nice," Steve says. He's serious now. "You were always kind."

He doesn't know what to say to that, how to hide his growing blush. "So, your werewolf senses know that you like me," he teases.

Steve's neck is read now too. "Um. Yeah? I--yeah. Robin says it's fera--feram--that I'm drawn to your scent"

"Oh, pheromones. Oh." And it's all sort of hitting him now, that this is real, that Steve--he and Steve--oh. "I, uh, like you too, if that wasn't obvious."

"I know." Steve taps the tip of his nose. "I can smell it."

"That's--oh god--that's. So embarrassing. All this time??"

"Only this year"

"That doesn't make it better! Oh my god."

"You've got it so bad," Steve sing-songs, pulls Eddie closer.

"I can't believe the werewolf of Hawkins has a supernatural crush on me."

"Werewolf of--no, absolutely not. You are not calling me that." Steve swats at him.

"Oooh, yes, I am." He pushes Steve back.

"Do you know what will happen if Dustin hears that?"

"Unfortunately for you, that's not a deterrent."

"You're going to be so much trouble--" Steve moves to grab him, Eddie's jacket slipping down his torso. "Oh shit, I'm naked."

"You are very much naked." Eddie can't help his wide grin.

"Don't--don't be gross about it."

"Oh, so you think you'd be normal about waking up to the guy you have a massive crush on naked next to you?"

"I--I--" Steve goes crimson. "Shut-up!"

Eddie giggles, leans into him, and Steve twines their fingers together.

"Okay, but let's get out of here? There's only so long I can tolerate being naked sitting on a rock."

They climb down, Eddie valiantly not oogling Steve the entire time.

"So, do you only turn at the full moon? Does it hurt? How did everyone find out? You have to tell me about the other monsters. Are there vampires? Is anyone else I know a monster? Oh my god, is Robin a witch?"

Steve sighs, can't quite hide the grin pulling at his lips. "I'm not answering all that."

"Steve!"

"I've signed a bunch of NDAs."

"A bunch of--what the hell? Steve! You can't just--"

Steve grabs his hands, squeezes. "I'll tell you. All of it. Promise. Just, not right now?"

Eddie bites his lip in thought, tries not to notice Steve staring at his mouth. "Ugh, fine. But I won't forget you owe me explanations. Plural!"

"Yeah, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, tugs Eddie forward.

They walk a few steps in silence before Eddie belts out, "Aroooooo, werewolves of Hawkins!" before taking off through the trees.

"Eddie, seriously?" Steve calls after him, only to be met by the echo of his laughter. "Are you really trying to outrun a werewolf right now? I mean, honestly."

"Catch me if you can, sweetheart."

Steve's laugh is a little bit like a bark as he starts to chase.

[sixeyesonathiel]

warmth waits here

artic fox hybrid satoru x bunny hybrid reader, fluff, 1.4k wc.

a/n: ik artic foxes are small but i promise i did this on purpose. he’s simply got that tall frame that makes the whole cute, fluffy hybrid thing a little more fun. honestly, the contrast is what makes it work! i just can't picture him as a super serious snow leopard—he's too silly and mischievous for that for me :P

the marketplace buzzes with early chatter, snow crunching under the boots of villagers wrapped in thick wool and fur, faces flushed with cold and laughter. the scent of spiced bread, pine sap, and roasted chestnuts curls in the winter air, curling through stalls adorned with ribbons, baubles, and hand-carved trinkets that shimmer under the pale sunlight. garlands of dried berries and leaves twist around the beams of merchant stalls, the gentle flicker of lanterns fighting against the crisp morning.

but satoru—tail high and white as new snow, ears twitching with every rustle of fabric and step—isn’t interested in trinkets or tarts. no, his pale blue gaze has already locked onto something far sweeter.

there you are.

nestled beneath a thick cloak two sizes too big, arms bundled with soft herbs and neatly folded cloth, your nose pink from the bite of the cold. bunny ears droop with the quiet exhaustion of someone who hasn’t quite woken up yet. your steps are soft, barely lifting from the ground, the pads of your feet muffled in plush boots. you move like a drifting snowflake, light and almost hesitant to land, the frost clinging to your lashes like sugar dusted on bread.

his prey.

“you always look like you’re about to collapse,” satoru calls, voice slow and syrupy like warm syrup, echoing slightly from his perch atop the wooden railing near the frozen fountain. one leg dangles, the other propped up lazily, and his fur-lined coat flutters just slightly in the breeze, pale strands of hair catching the golden morning light.

his words hang in the air, little clouds of teasing warmth.

you jump a little, surprised, then glance up, hugging your bundle tighter. cheeks puffed with embarrassment, ears twitching low. your eyes widen, lashes already dusted with frost. “i’m okay...” you mumble, voice thick with sleep, soft and small. your fingers tighten their grip on the herbs as if they might anchor you.

he grins wide enough to flash fang.

“mmhmm. you sure you didn’t dream-walk here?” he leans forward dramatically. “say, wanna trade your bundle for a pastry and a scandalous rumor about the florist’s cat?”

you blink up at him, bewildered. “…what?”

he’s already leaping down, landing with a fox-like bounce, snow scattering around his boots. his white tail flicks with satisfaction, brushing against the hem of your cloak in passing.

“too late. i insist. i, as your future husband, demand you rest those dainty arms before you crumple like a croissant.”

“you’re not—” your voice pitches up slightly, flustered. “you’re not my husband...”

“yet,” he chimes sweetly, already plucking the bundle from your arms with careful fingers. he sniffs it. “mmm. rosemary. calming. you sure you don’t make these just so you can be the softest thing in the square?”

“...this isn’t how people court,” you murmur, your hands hovering awkwardly, the absence of the bundle leaving your arms oddly empty.

“elaborate schemes. dramatic entrances. feeding you things with frosting. and occasionally stealing your laundry to return it folded with a single flower tucked inside. classic wooing.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

he pauses, this time his voice dipping lower, his teasing smile gentling as his ears lower just a fraction. “you look like you didn’t sleep again. nightmares?”

there’s something about his tone—soft, aware—that makes your ears twitch.

you swallow. the dreams had been full of shifting forests and dark water, thorns under your feet, voices calling out in languages you couldn’t understand. things that linger like smoke even after waking.

“…yeah,” you whisper. “just... dreams.”

“don’t make that face,” he murmurs, adjusting the bundle in his arms carefully like it’s something precious. he tucks it neatly into the crook of his elbow, one hand splaying protectively over the folded cloth before offering you his free hand. his claws are tucked in, his fur warm against the blue cuff of his sleeve. snowflakes melt instantly where they touch.

“c’mon. i know a place. it’s sunny. quiet. no nosey villagers. i won’t even flirt.” he pauses, tilts his head. “much.”

you hesitate. the chill nips at your ankles, the bustle behind you feels too loud, and he’s watching you with that look—playful, yes, but not insincere. he jingles the bundle lightly like a promise.

“…okay,” you say softly.

you take his hand.

his fingers curl around yours immediately, warm, protective. the pads of his hand brush yours, and you shiver, not from the cold. your ears flush pink. he says nothing.

he just walks with you, tail swaying in rhythm beside your boots, the snow crunching under every step. he holds your bundle with absurd grace, adjusting it when the breeze tries to nip at the fabric, fingers brushing a bit of frost from the top. the walk takes you beyond the village’s edge, to the lake where bare trees arch like sleepy sentinels. a crooked birch stands alone near the edge, its bark ghost-pale, branches catching the gold-thread light.

“tada,” he says, tone grand. he kicks snow off a flat rock, then shrugs off his coat and spreads it out with a practiced flourish. “for her highness, the sleepy bunny.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you whisper, but your lips twitch.

you sit. the rock is cold, but his coat is thick and still carries the scent of him—snow, cedar, something faintly sweet like frozen berries. he places your bundle beside you with a precision that borders on reverence.

he sits beside you, close enough to share warmth. shoulder to shoulder. then, without a word, he wraps his tail around both your laps, plush and snowy, a gentle shield. your bundle rests neatly at your side, exactly how you held it, herbs tucked safe under the folded cloth.

this time, you really don’t complain.

the world seems to hold its breath. even the wind softens, rustling only the tips of brittle grass peeking through the snow. somewhere in the distance, a single bird sings—low and tentative, like it, too, is unsure if it’s safe to speak.

you lean into him slowly, unsure at first, like a leaf settling on water. your head finds his shoulder, ear brushing against the fur of his collar, and stay there. he stiffens for the briefest second—he always does when touch surprises him—but then exhales, long and low. a curl of white mist leaves his mouth and fades into the cold air.

your weight is so slight, it’s almost imagined. but he feels every bit of it.

your lashes flutter, your eyes barely open now, lips parted in the kind of drowsy calm he never quite understands—how someone so soft can still make him feel like his chest is being split open.

he turns his head, just a little. enough to catch the way your nose scrunches faintly in the cold, how the tips of your ears twitch even as sleep edges close. the white fur of his tail flicks once, then settles again across both your laps like a quilt.

“you know,” he murmurs, his voice nearly lost to the hush of winter, “most prey run from foxes.”

his breath stirs a few strands of your hair. he doesn’t know why he says it. maybe because silence is dangerous when his thoughts start pressing too close. maybe because he’s a little afraid of how quiet his heart becomes when you’re near—like even that part of him pauses to listen to you breathe.

your answer comes slow, slurred with sleep. “maybe i’m just too tired.”

your head tilts more fully into the crook of his neck. the warmth of your breath blooms faint against his skin, like thaw spreading across frost. it lingers, and so does the thud of his heartbeat against the cage of his ribs.

he lets out a small huff of laughter—barely there. his grin softens into something quieter, more real. something that would slip away if anyone else looked too long. “lucky for me,” he says, almost under his breath.

he doesn’t move. not even when his arm goes numb beneath you. not even when snow begins to fall again, soft as powdered sugar. he just sits there, holding still like the world might shatter if he disturbs it. if he disturbs you.

and as your breathing evens out, warm and close, satoru finds himself watching the clouds shift above the lake—quiet, unhurried.

for once, he thinks, he doesn’t mind staying still. not if it means you’ll be here when he does.

[ahqkas]

“HE MOVES MOUNTAINS AND POUNDS THEM TO GROUND AGAIN — bruce wayne.

PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce likes to spoil you, especially during christmas WORD COUNT! 3.4k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce ‘let me spoil my girl’ wayne + lmk if more! NOTES! wanna be spoiled by a rich guy sb , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE STREETS OF GOTHAM, OFTEN SO COLD AND CRUEL WERE CHANGED UNDER THE FIRST TRUE SNOWFALL OF THE SEASON. Blankets of pristine white coated the rooftops, softening the jagged skyline into something almost whimsical. The sidewalks were a patchwork of footprints and slush, as bustling crowds meandered through the early morning chill. Each breath of air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby stand, mingling with the crisp bite of snow.

Children’s laughter rang out in bursts, slicing through the muffled quiet that came with the falling flakes. A group of them had gathered at the corner of Robinson Park, throwing handfuls of powdery snow at one another while some tilted their heads back, tongues outstretched, hoping to catch a flake or two. Their squeals of delight painted the city in a light Gotham rarely allowed itself to wear.

Storefronts glowed with soft, twinkling lights, festive decorations hanging from doorways and window displays dressed in shimmering reds and golds. Every shop seemed to beckon, promising warm escapes and holiday cheer, from tiny mom-and-pop bookstores to designer boutiques with mannequins posed elegantly in the latest winter fashion. Salvation Army bells jingled near donation buckets, blending with the soft hum of carolers just off the main avenue.

The energy was infectious—families strolled arm in arm, couples leaned into one another for warmth, and even the loneliest passerby seemed to walk with a lighter step.

Christmas was approaching.

That was how you found yourself walking arm in arm with Bruce, the world narrowing to the warmth of his presence beside you despite the winter chill. His grip on your arm was steady and sure, his hand a comforting weight where it rested over yours. Even through your gloves, you could feel the faintest trace of his warmth, a contrast to the icy air that kissed you cheeks.

He guided you effortlessly through the busy crowd of people, and his towering frame acted as an anchor amidst the chaos. You noticed the way heads turned, how people instinctively parted to let him through—not just because he was Bruce Wayne, the name that commanded attention, but because he carried himself with a quiet, natural authority. Still, his touch on your arm was gentle, not hurried, as though he had no place to be except here with you.

“Do you think it’s going to stick?” you asked, nodding toward the layer of snow coating the rooftops and trees. Your breath slipped through your lips in visible puffs.

Bruce glanced skyward, his eyes softening in the glow of string lights overhead. “It’s Gotham,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. “The snow never lasts long. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it’s here.”

There was something so rare about seeing him like this—relaxed, his usual sharp focus softened by the holiday atmosphere. His other hand reached up briefly, brushing a stray snowflake from her your before it could melt, his touch so natural it made your heart stutter. “You’ll let me know if you’re getting cold, won’t you?” he added, his gaze flickering down to you, concern laced in his words.

You tilted your head, a playful smirk curving your lips as you glanced up at him. “I’m fine, Bruce. I’ve survived Gotham winters before.”

The words were teasing, but when he looked down at you with that gentle, pointed expression—his brow slightly furrowed, lips tight with that quiet intensity—you felt the weight of it, as always. It was as if he could see through you, straight into your heart, expecting an answer more than just your usual wit. He always wanted to hear it. A simple reassurance, whether you were okay in his arms after a quality night with him or sharing a quiet moment in the middle of the city’s frenzy.

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the teasing edge fading into something more genuine. “I’m okay,” you assured him quietly, words a whisper that seemed to linger in the cold air between the two of you. “Really.”

Bruce’s expression softened, but there was still that hint of concern in his eyes, the faintest crease in his brow. His lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I know you are,” he admitted. “But I like hearing it anyway.”

Your heart fluttered, and you gave him a soft, affectionate smile before he shifted his attention. Bruce pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, the sleek device easily fitting in his hand, and he flicked through it with practiced ease. The light from the screen cast a subtle glow across his sharp features, revealing the concentration as he scanned his list.

“Alright,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Alfred’s gifts—need to pick up something special for him . . . then there’s Damian, Dick . . . Jason . . . oh, and Tim.” He paused, scrolling through the notes app, his brow furrowing just a little as he went over his meticulous list of people to buy for. “It’s harder than it sounds—every one of them has something they’ll really like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the contrast between his usual effortless decisiveness and the almost comical way he planned out every detail. It was such a Bruce thing to do, and yet it was endearing in its own right. “It’s just shopping, Bruce,” you teased. “You’ve got enough money to buy Gotham if you really wanted. Just get them whatever’s shiny and expensive.”

He shot you a glance, lips quirking into a barely-there smile. “Not for them,” he replied, voice thoughtful. “They’re not impressed by the shiny stuff. I want to get something meaningful, even if they act like they don’t care.”

Your teasing smile faded into something softer, touched by the sincerity in his words. He was always thoughtful, always careful, and it was something you’d grown to admire more than anything else. But you still had to comment, your voice light again to keep things from becoming too serious.

“Alright then,” you said with the twinkle in your eyes Bruce adored to see, “just don’t forget the part where you buy me something too. You know, for the ‘special girl’ in your life?”

The man gave you a look, not quite amused but not entirely serious either, his fingers scrolling on his phone as he half-listened. “Of course. You’re on the list, don’t worry.”

The way he said it, though, with that glimmer of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, let you know he was absolutely serious with it. And you knew, in his own quiet, understated way, Bruce would spoil you just as much—if not more—than anyone else.

As you continued in your stroll down the street, the quiet chatter of the crowd around thr two of you felt like distant noise, a soft hum that blurred into the background as your gaze drifted to one of the storefront windows. Nestled in the corner of the display was a delicate bracelet—its silver links shimmering beneath the soft glow of the shop’s warm lights. Each facet of the small diamonds glistened, catching the light just right, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that seemed to draw you in without you even realizing it.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, breath caught in your throat as you admired the elegance of the piece. It was everything you loved—simple, yet exquisite, with just the right amount of subtle luxury. You could already imagine it on your wrist, the way it would catch the light, how it would complement the delicate necklace you wore around your neck. But, of course, you couldn’t be too obvious.

You quickly forced your feet to move, pulling your gaze away with an almost guilty glance toward Bruce. You could feel the warmth of his presence beside you, and you tried your best not to linger too long, not wanting him to see the longing in your eyes. It wasn’t like you wanted him to buy it for you—you weren’t the type to ask for extravagant things—but the thought of having something so beautiful . . . well, it made your heart ache just a little.

But of course, Bruce noticed.

He always did.

Without skipping a beat, he slowed his pace to match yours, his sharp eyes flicking toward the window where you had just stopped. He said nothing at first, but his gaze was keen, taking in the way your attention had been captured by the bracelet. It didn’t take much to read the silent longing in your eyes, and though he didn’t say a word, his lips twitched upward in that knowing, almost amused way he often did when he could see through you better than you could see yourself.

“Something catched your eye?”

You turned to face him, offering a quick, almost embarrassed smile. “Oh, it’s nothing, really,” you waved a hand dismissively, though you couldn’t quite hide the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just . . . admiring.”

Bruce tilted his head slightly, as if debating whether to push you further or let it slide, but his gaze never left yours for a moment. “You know,” he started, his voice low, with a hint of amusement. He was enjoying the moment. “I’m pretty sure I could arrange for that bracelet to be . . . yours, if you really like it.”

Your heart skipped again, and you couldn’t help but laugh, though the sound was breathless. “Bruce, you don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he interrupted, his gaze flicking back to the bracelet. “You deserve something beautiful.”

You met his eyes, a warmth blossoming in your chest at the way he spoke so naturally, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. You didn’t need to ask. He’d already thought it through, already seen something you hadn’t even let yourself admit.

Bruce, as always, seemed to be one step ahead of her.

Before you could protest, he gave your hand a gentle but firm tug, guiding you toward the shop entrance with a determined stride. Your protests, half-hearted as they were, barely made it past your lips before you found yourself caught in his wake.

“I don’t think I need anything,” you started, but the words felt flimsy as he nudged open the door for you to enter first, the warm air from inside the shop spilling out like an invitation. The shop was just as elegant as the bracelet itself, filled with gleaming displays of luxury and an array of fine jewelry that made your eyes sparkle. Even the air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive perfumes, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place in your cozy winter coat compared to the sleek interior.

Bruce, however, seemed perfectly at home.

He was already scanning the shelves with the kind of focus he reserved for planning an important mission, his eyes darting between the glimmering items like a child in a candy store. “What do you think of this?” he asked, pointing to a necklace encrusted with gorgeous diamonds, its center stone a vivid shade of sapphire. “Or this?” His finger then hovered over a ring so opulent it seemed to catch the light from every angle, a stunning emerald set in platinum, polished to perfection. “I’m sure you’d look incredible in this one.”

You had to laugh, despite yourself. “Bruce, they’re beautiful, but I don’t need anything like that,” you said, trying your best to steer him toward a less extravagant choice. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by how effortless he made it look—like money was a toy for him, to be spent and discarded without a second thought. But you weren’t that girl. You didn’t need diamonds and gold to know he cared.

Bruce merely glanced at you, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m not saying you need it,” he explained with a knowing glance, “but you deserve it. Every piece in here, and more.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through you at his words. “I’m really fine with just looking.”

Yet, his hand never wavered as he pointed again—this time toward the stunning bracelet you eyed earlier, a sleek chain with delicate diamonds set into its links, glistening under the shop’s overhead lights. “What about this one?” he asked, voice smooth and persuasive, as though he knew exactly you would choose this one. “It would go so well with the necklace you already wear.”

Oh, he knew you so well.

Your breath caught for a moment. There it was—the same bracelet you’d seen outside, now glowing with the same captivating brilliance up close. You felt your resolve falter, but you quickly steadied yourself. “Bruce, it’s beautiful, but—”

He cut you off, his voice warm but insistent. “I know what you’re thinking, but I can tell you right now, it’s not too much. Not for you.” His gaze softened as he met your eyes, almost pleading with a subtle intensity that you couldn’t ignore. “Let me spoil you, sweet girl, just a little. You’ve earned it.”

You swallowed, your cheeks warming up with emotion at the sincerity in his words. It wasn’t the extravagant pieces he had pointed to earlier that made your heart swell; it was the thought behind it all. He was offering what you had always dreamed of—the luxury, the feeling of being cared for so much that it made you almost melt.

“Bruce, really,” you tried again, voice softer, more vulnerable now. “I don’t need any of this.”

But his eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours, and you knew—he was determined. And deep down, you knew there was no way to say no.

Your words hung in the air for a moment as you smiled sheepishly, trying to ease the tension you could feel building between them. “I was just window shopping. I wasn’t planning on buying anything. It’s just . . . pretty to look at, that’s all.”

But when Bruce’s expression shifted—eyes narrowing ever so slightly, lips pressing into a thin line—you instantly knew you had made a mistake. His posture straightened, his gaze hardening in that way you knew too well. It wasn’t anger, exactly, but something else—something deeper, like he’d just been presented with an insult he hadn’t expected.

“You were just window shopping?” His voice was soft, but there was a steel edge to it now, one that told you he wasn’t pleased with the idea of you limiting yourself to just looking. “With me?”

For a moment, you were silent, surprised by the strength of his reaction. It almost felt like he’d been wounded, as if the idea of you standing in front of something so beautiful—something you deserved—without actually taking it, was too much for him to bear. The hint of disappointment in his voice caught you off guard, a realization dawning on you that you’d underestimated him again.

“Bruce,” you started, your tone softer now, trying to piece together the right words. “It’s not that I didn’t want it . . . I just didn’t want you to—”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “No. You don’t just window shop when you’re with me, sweetheart. Not for things like this. You see something you like, you take it. And I’ll make sure you get it.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the gentle cut-off from him stilled the words before they could escape. And before you could even process the shift, his fingers were already moving—sliding his sleek black card from his wallet with an ease you had come to expect, but it still made your heart flutter every time he did it.

The sound of the card swiping against the boutique’s terminal felt like a soft crack of thunder in the quiet of the shop, and the realization you her all at once—he wasn’t just offering to buy you the bracelet. He was already doing it.

The cashier smiled warmly, already taking the sleek black card and ringing up the bracelet. The sparkle of the diamonds under the soft shop lighting seemed to mock your hesitation, making the choice you had avoided all along suddenly seem inevitable. Your gaze flicked from the bracelet to the man who liked spoiling you a little too much, then back again, your chest tightening with a swirl of emotions.

Bruce caught your eye, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t take no for an answer when it comes to you,” he murmured quietly, his words soft but sure, as though the decision had been made the moment he saw you admiring the piece. “You deserve to have everything you want.”

“I . . . I didn’t want to feel like I was asking too much,” you admitted softly to him, fingers lightly brushing the delicate fabric of your scarf.

He stepped closer and his voice lowered just for you, the softness of it carrying a weight that made your cheeks warm up. “Sweetheart, you’re not asking for anything. You’re not asking too much. You never have to. Let me spoil you, let me take care of you.”

Before you could give him a response, the cashier handed him the small box containing the bracelet, wrapped with a care that only seemed to make it more precious.

“Enjoy the holidays, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce turned to you then, the box resting in his hand, his dark eyes fixed on you with an almost expectant look.

“Go ahead,” he urged, his voice soft but firm, “Try it on. It’s yours just like I said it would be.”

Your fingers hovered over the delicate box, the weight of Bruce’s words lingering in the air like a soft promise. You opened it slowly, almost reverently, and your breath caught in your throat as you saw the bracelet in its full brilliance for the first time up close. The diamonds caught the light, glinting like tiny stars, each one reflecting a different facet of the warmth you felt deep inside. It was beautiful, in a way that made you feel a little lightheaded, and as you slipped it onto your wrist, you couldn’t help but glance up at Bruce, who was watching you with an almost proud smile.

“It’s perfect.”

Bruce’s eyes softened with something close to satisfaction, but the teasing smirk tugging at his lips was unmistakable. “I told you it would be,” he said, his voice rich with affection—and something else, something playful that you knew all too well.

You smiled, reaching up to adjust the bracelet slightly, the delicate metal cool against your skin. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually buy it, though,” you admitted, still a little embarrassed by the extravagance of it all. “You could’ve just let me keep window shopping.”

“Window shopping, huh?” He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “You’re with me now. Window shopping isn’t a thing, sweetheart. Not for you. You deserve more than that.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but before you could say anything else, Bruce’s voice turned more teasing, that mischievous edge creeping back in. “Although,” he began, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more, “now that you have that beautiful bracelet, I wonder what else you might need. I’m sure there are plenty of other lovely things out there for you. More necklaces? Maybe some earrings? Or,” he paused dramatically, looking you up and down with a grin, “how about a whole set?”

You rolled her eyes, half-amused and half-embarrassed by the thought of being so utterly spoiled. “Bruce, I don’t need a whole set.”

“Oh, but I insist,” he teased, his smile widening. “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you. I’d spoil you rotten if I could.”

You could hear the amusement in his voice, but there was a layer of genuine affection beneath it all. It was the way he looked at you, the way he spoke—like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and nothing was too much to give.

For a moment, you let yourself bask in the warmth of that feeling, your new bracelet gleaming against your wrist, a symbol not just of his generosity but of something much deeper—the connection the two of you shared. “You’re impossible,” you laughed softly, but there was no real heat in your words. Only affection, and the quiet joy of being loved in a way you’d never quite expected.

Bruce’s smile softened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low and sincere. “I’m not impossible, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”

[internetdaddy98]

Eros and Empirics

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist]

Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: Robby expresses his desire to know you fully, not just in the heat of your secretive moments but in the quiet details of your life.

Word Count: 3.2 K Content Warning: Medical procedures, will most likely be medically inaccurate at times.

Robby woke slowly.

The moonshine filtering through her linen curtains was pale and gold, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. The sheets were too soft, the room too warm. And then he felt the press of a small body curled against him, her bare leg tangled between his, her breath steady against his collarbone. Y/N.

Her apartment.

Her bed.

His heart gave a traitorous twist.

It was early, maybe five, maybe earlier. He was used to it. The world always started for him before anyone else. But this morning, for once, he didn’t feel the need to move. He just wanted to stay. Absorb it.

Her.

She was tucked beneath the covers, face half-hidden, messy brown hair spilling over the pillow, one hand fisted gently in the fabric of his shirt like she wasn’t ready to let go even in sleep.

And God help him, he didn’t want her to.

Carefully, he slipped from the bed, trying not to wake her. Her sheets smelled like vanilla and clean linen. Her nightstand had a half-drunk glass of water, a novel with a cracked spine, and a worn tube of lip balm. Things so small and intimate it made his breath catch.

He padded barefoot into the rest of the apartment, soaking it in without the haze of last night’s heat between them. It was still quiet, early-morning hush over everything. Outside, the street was just starting to stir, birds, a garbage truck rumbling down the alley, a dog barking distantly.

Inside, her world was still.

He moved through the living room slowly. The details of her life were everywhere. Art books and first-edition novels, a framed psychology degree from NYU next to her coat hanging neatly on a hook by the door. A small vase of dried lavender. A Polaroid camera. A silk scarf draped over the corner of a mirror. Every detail was curated but unpretentious, lived-in. Personal.

He paused at the piano in the corner.

It was old, upright, chestnut wood with a few chips in the varnish, but well-loved. Music sheets were stacked carefully, tucked with bookmarks and scribbled notes. His fingers grazed the keys, but he didn’t press them down. Instead, he looked at the photo sitting on top of it: a younger Y/N, maybe seventeen, at a recital. Her hair was longer, pulled half-up, and she was smiling, really smiling, in a way he’d rarely seen in the hospital. Free. Unburdened.

He didn’t know if that version of her still existed. But God, he wanted to meet her.

There were more photos in the hallway, Sheri as a child with scraped knees and a gap-toothed grin, her parents in a vineyard, some older relatives at what looked like a christmas dinner. The more he looked, the more he realized just how much of her life she’d never talked about. Not because she was hiding it, but because she’d never been asked.

And now she was offering it to him, open-palmed and quiet and brave.

He lingered by the bookshelf, picking up a slim volume of poetry and flipping through it. A note was scribbled in the margin in her handwriting: for the days that hurt in silence. He stared at it for a long time.

When he finally returned to the bedroom, you were just beginning to stir.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, lashes fluttering against your cheek before you focused on him, shirtless, barefoot, leaning in the doorway with the moonlight at his back like some ghost she hadn’t expected to stay.

“You always wake up this early?” you asked, voice still rough with sleep.

He smirked faintly. “Some habits die hard.”

You stretched, a soft sigh escaping you as you rolled onto your back and pushed the covers down, bare legs curling into the sheets. The moonlight caught the dip of your waist, the slope of your collarbone, and for a moment he felt something primal twist in his chest.

But he didn’t move toward you yet.

Instead, he watched you.

“What?” you asked quietly, voice hushed in the still morning.

“I’m just looking,” he said honestly.

“At what?”

“At everything you are.”

You flushed. “Do I disappoint?”

He crossed to you then, kneeling beside the bed, brushing his hand through the mess of your hair. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes softened.

“I’ve never—” he started, then stopped. Swallowed. “I never let myself want this.”

“But you do,” you whispered.

He nodded, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, just above the curve of the sheet.

“I do. I want you. Not just your body, not just the secret, not just the adrenaline of getting away with it in a fucking supply closet—though, Christ, that too—but you, in this bed, with your stupid candles and your crooked piano and the way you write in margins.”

Your throat worked around a swallow. “You read my poetry book.”

“I want to read everything,” he murmured, kissing you again. “All of it. All of you.”

You leaned forward then, kissed him like you meant it, soft, slow, unhurried.

And in that morning light, tangled in sheets and sunlight and honesty, something in Robby settled for the first time in years. Not silenced, not quieted. But held.

—----------------------------------

The ER never slept, not even on days when the morning light broke in slow golden strands across the windows of the trauma bay. But this morning felt different. Calmer, somehow. As if the universe had paused for breath and let in something softer between the crash of stretchers and the clatter of coffee cups.

You stepped onto the unit just after 6:30 a.m., hair tied in a low ponytail, hoodie unzipped, and a takeaway tray in your hands. You moved with quiet certainty, your expression unreadable to most, but not to him.

Robby was already there, early as always, leaned against the counter outside trauma room two. He had a pen between his fingers, flipping it with the idle precision of a man who never really stopped thinking. He looked up the moment he sensed you.

Not turned. Sensed.

Your eyes met for a fraction of a second longer than would’ve passed for casual. Something passed between you, warmth, reassurance, the kind of intimacy that didn’t need to be loud to be real.

He said nothing. Neither did you.

But you handed him a second coffee as you passed, the exact way he liked it, no words exchanged. You wore a small smile and a steady step, and the minute Dana caught sight of you across the nurses’ station, the charge nurse pointedly raised one eyebrow and offered a slow, approving nod.

“Well, finally,” Dana drawled.

You froze mid-step. “What?”

Dana sipped her coffee with exaggerated calm. “You know what.”

You didn’t have to turn to feel Robby behind you, his presence like gravity, like the steady pressure of a star. He appeared at your side a second later, expression unreadable but eyes brighter than you’d seen in weeks. He looked like a man who’d exhaled for the first time in years.

“Morning,” he said to Dana.

“Mmm,” Dana said, her grin widening. “So… HR knows?”

“HR knows,” Robby confirmed, nodding once. “We disclosed it last night.”

You added quickly, “We submitted everything by the book. It won’t affect patient care. We’re both still professionals first.”

Dana held up her hands. “Hey. No judgment. Just… it’s about time.”

There was a short pause.

“Is there a betting pool I should know about?” Robby asked dryly.

Dana didn’t even blink. “There was. Santos won it. Said it would happen this quarter.”

Santos appeared from behind a curtain, pulling off gloves with a triumphant smirk. “I always knew you two were going to combust. But I didn't think it’d be in an alley. Bold move.”

You flushed from the neck up.

“I told you not to talk about it—” Robby began.

Santos grinned. “What, you think I didn’t recognize that look you had the next day? Man was walking like he’d been struck by lightning. And Sheridan couldn’t look anyone in the eye.”

Whittaker passed by with a chart, looking nervous. “Should I… come back later?”

Mel piped up from across the room, smiling gently. “No, Dennis. You’re witnessing love in a hopeless place.”

You buried your face in your hands. But Robby, for once, didn’t seem phased. He chuckled—a real, low sound—and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“All right,” he said. “Everyone gets one day to harass us. But then it’s business as usual.”

Dana lifted her coffee. “Cheers to that, Dr. R.”

You flushed, but Robby only gave a soft exhale that might’ve been amusement, might’ve been relief. There was something easier about the set of his shoulders this morning, something almost unrecognizable to the ones who’d known him longest. He looked... lighter. The storm behind his eyes was still there, but it had a quiet in it now. A steadying calm that hadn’t been there in months.

He turned to you and said quietly, just for you, “You ready for rounds?”

You nodded. “Always.”

You walked together toward the huddle, footsteps falling into rhythm. You didn’t reach for his hand. He didn’t touch the small of your back. But there was an unmissable closeness in how your bodies moved near one another. Not possessive, just connected.

At the patient board, the rest of the residents gathered: Santos with her sarcastic smirk, Whittaker with his usual nervous energy, Mel with her careful warmth. A couple of interns hung in the back, eyes wide, obviously new.

Robby cleared his throat. “Morning. Quick huddle before rounds. Interns, evaluations start today, make sure to shine with your seniors and show them what you’ve learned, and make sure you drink water, because no one else is going to tell you when your brain is turning to soup.”

Soft chuckles. Santos rolled her eyes. “He says that like he ever drinks water.”

“I hydrate,” Robby said, deadpan. “It’s just black and roasted and comes in a mug.”

A few more laughs.

His gaze flicked to you, just a second’s glance, but enough for her to feel it settle on her skin. He always saw you, not just in the obvious ways. He noticed the minute tension in your shoulders, the slight downturn of your lips when you were too tired to fake it. And now that they weren’t pretending anymore, he let that concern show in soft, quiet ways.

He handed you a protein bar later that morning, just before the next trauma came in.

“You didn’t eat,” he said. “You’ll start shaking again.”

“I don’t shake,” you said.

“You do when your blood sugar tanks.”

You took the bar. Your fingers brushed and then he held your hand. He held the contact and your breath caught in your throat.

Around you, the ER pulsed with life, alarms, footsteps, orders barked and nonstopped charting, but in that second, it was just the two of you again. The unspoken tether of months, years, threading you closer with each quiet kindness.

And it wasn’t all sweetness.

When a difficult peds trauma came in later, you took the lead without hesitation. You were measured, firm, voice steady as you called out orders, but Robby hovered just within your orbit—ready if you faltered, ready if you needed him. You didn’t. You never did. But the fact that he was there mattered more than you could admit aloud.

Afterwards, he pulled you aside, voice low. “You did good in there.”

You smiled, tired but grateful. “You doubted me?”

“Never,” he said. “But I worry anyway.”

Your heart tightened at that. Because that was him, always, the man who kept every worry locked tight behind those cool gray eyes, but who noticed everything. The man who fought the world with his hands and himself with his silence.

You stood by the trauma board, arms crossed, squinting at the cluster of cases lighting up in red. You were waiting for the next wave. They always came in waves.

“Quiet before the chaos,” came a voice behind you.

You turned slightly. Dr. Collins stood there, coffee in hand, her usual expression unreadable but not unfriendly. She was in scrubs, her red jacket slung over one shoulder, the picture of poised competence.

You gave a small smile. “You know, everyone says that, and it’s always true. Creeps me out.”

Collins chuckled. “You get used to it.”

“I heard about you and Robby.”

You stiffened. Just a little. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that Collins noticed.

“I’m not judging,” Collins added quickly, sipping her coffee. “He and I... that was a long time ago.”

You turned toward her fully now, brows raised. “Yeah?”

Collins nodded, leaning against the counter beside the trauma board. “Before you were even in medical school, I think. It didn’t last long. We were fire and ice—too much heat, not enough glue.”

You hesitated. “I knew it happened, but didn’t know why it ended.”

Collins smiled wryly. “We don’t advertise it. Didn’t end badly, exactly, just… ended. He was complicated. Still is.”

That made you laugh under your breath. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

Collins glanced over at you, eyes sharp but not unkind. “So… can I give you some unsolicited advice?”

You looked wary but nodded. “Sure.”

Collins shifted her coffee to her other hand, her tone growing quieter, less clinical. “Robby’s spent most of his life keeping people at arm’s length. It’s not because he doesn’t care. It’s because he cares too much. And somewhere along the line, he decided that if he let people in, they’d either leave, or he’d lose them. So he built walls. Really good ones.”

Your voice was soft. “I’ve seen them.”

“Then you know how hard it is to be let in. He’s let you in, hasn’t he?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. He has.”

Collins studied you for a moment, then said, “Then don’t waste it. But don’t expect it to always be easy. Loving Robby is like… like trying to hold onto something that doesn’t always want to be held. You have to be steady. Patient. And maybe a little selfish, too. You have to ask for what you need.”

There was silence between them for a moment. The overhead lights buzzed faintly. You leaned against the counter, mirroring Collins. “Did you love him?”

Collins didn’t answer right away. She took a slow sip of her coffee, then set it down gently on the steel counter. Her eyes went distant, thoughtful.

“I think a part of me did,” she said finally. “But I also think I loved the idea of fixing him more than I loved who he really was. And you can’t fix Robby. You can only choose to stay.”

You looked down, chewing on that. “I don’t want to fix him.”

Collins smiled softly. “Then you’ve got a chance.”

Just then, a trauma alert crackled through the intercom. You and Collins both stood a little straighter.

“Back to it,” Collins said, straightening her scrubs.

You looked at her, something flickering in your eyes. Gratitude, maybe. Or recognition. “Thanks. For saying all that.”

Collins gave a half-smile, already turning toward the trauma bay. “You’re welcome. Just don’t break his heart, Sheridan. He doesn’t have many lives left.”

You stood there a moment longer, the trauma board now lighting up like a Christmas tree behind you. But your mind was still on Collins’s words. On what it meant to be let in by someone like Robby. And what it meant to stay.

Robby didn't touch you in front of the others. Not once. But when you passed in the hallway near radiology and no one was looking, he let his knuckles graze yours. When you came back from the break room, jaw clenched from a phone call with a combative family member, he reached over and brushed a loose strand from your cheek.

“I’ve got your six,” he murmured, just low enough for your ears only.

“I know,” you whispered back.

Later, in the staff lounge, Dana caught Robby refilling your water bottle.

“You’re ridiculously smitten,” Dana said, not bothering to hide her grin.

Robby gave a weary exhale. “Don’t start.”

“I mean it. She softens you.”

“She grounds me,” he said.

And he meant it. Because whatever weight he carried—whatever ghosts still lurked in his chest from COVID, from Adamson, from years of holding back, you had become the one person who could coax him out from behind the walls he’d built.

You weren’t loud. You weren’t commanding. But you saw him.

And now, finally, he let himself see you back, not just as a resident, not just as a colleague, but as the woman who made him want more. Who made him remember what it felt like to want something for himself.

By the end of the shift, the teasing had faded. The work had taken over again. He let his hand rest lightly at the small of your back for just a breath. You stood at the computer terminal. Your brow furrowed slightly in concentration, but your posture was more relaxed than it had been before. More grounded. You hadn't been rattled. If anything, you'd been unnervingly steady.

Robby watched you for a moment. Something was different.

“You okay?” he asked casually.

You glanced up, then gave him that small, almost imperceptible smile he’d come to read like a pulse. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Sure,” he said, but his tone was knowing. “Still… something’s on your mind.”

You hesitated, saving the chart and logging out. “Talked to Collins earlier.”

Robby's eyebrows lifted, just slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him now, her gaze direct but unreadable. “She said you’re complicated.”

Robby gave a soft huff of laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. “She would say that.”

“She also said you build walls.”

That made him pause.

He didn’t speak for a moment, just looked at you, searching your expression, trying to see what else might be behind those words. You didn’t push. You just let the silence stretch, comfortable in a way that still surprised him sometimes.

“Was she warning you off?” he asked finally.

You tilted your head, your voice soft but certain. “No. She was telling me not to waste the opportunity” Robby looked down, that answer hitting deeper than he expected. His voice, when it came, was quieter. “She’s not wrong.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. “I’m not going anywhere, Michael.”

He looked down at your joined hands, then up at you. And for a moment, everything, the years, the baggage, the ghosts fell away. There was just you. And the quiet certainty in your eyes.

“Good,” he said. Then softer, more to himself than to her, “Good.”

She squeezed his hand once more. 

“You want me to wait and walk out with you?” he asked.

You looked at him, smile soft. “Always.”

And maybe the world hadn’t changed. Maybe the hospital was still loud and unpredictable, and their jobs still unforgiving.

But the weight was different now.

They weren’t pretending.

They weren’t hiding.

They were them.

And for the first time, that felt like enough.

———————————————— Want to join the taglist? shoot me a comment! @rosiepoise88 @nosebeers @andabuttonnose @luvr4miya @cannonindeez @hagarsays @captainoates @lemonlime09 @delicateflorencia @iceb1ink1uck @moonshooter @qardasngan @penbridgertonn @foreverchangingfandoms @msdariaknight @kmc1989

[mead-iocre]

Christmas Market | Alexia Putellas x Reader

summary: you should've listened to your girlfriend. part of the brat!reader universe.

warnings: just christmas fluff x

wc: 2.6 k words

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Christmas in Barcelona was your favourite time of year. The air was crisp, filled with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts from street vendors. The city twinkled with holiday lights strung across the narrow streets, casting glows on the cobblestone sidewalks. The soft hum of festive music played from cafés, mingling with the distant laughter of people out to celebrate the holiday. 

You and Alexia stepped out of the grand, ivy-clad restaurant. The clink of champagne glasses and the hum of conversation followed you as you pushed open the door, the cold air of the city enveloping you immediately. 

Dressed in a black velvet body-con mini dress, black lace stockings, and your new pair of christian louboutin heels, you looked good. Looking over at your girlfriend, you bite your bottom lip as you take in the sight of her.

Alexia was wearing the black halter top that you loved on her-- they showed off her lovely shoulders and arms. Her hair was slicked back in a neat ponytail, granting you full access to admire her face the entire evening. 

And you did, much to your lover's embarrassment. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"You look good, baby" 

Alexia rolled her eyes, but a slight blush coated her cheeks. She playfully glared at you from across the table, shuffling in her seat. She mutters a quiet "stop it.”, but there was no malice in her tone. 

You laugh. She was so easy to rile up and annoy. And unfortunately for her, you enjoyed seeing her grumpy. It was hot.  

Uncrossing your legs, you extend one until they lightly caressed the side of her trousers. Alexia's head snapped up from the menu she was looking at, raising one eyebrow at you.

You ignore it, pointedly looking down at your own menu. 

Your black patent calfskin-covered foot continues it's passage up and up until it just about grazes your lovers lap. 

But the journey was cut short by a hand grabbing your ankle, stilling you completely.

You pout at her from across the table, your freshly applied lipgloss gleaming under the dim overhead flights. You smirk when you notice Alexia's eyes dropping to your bottom lip. As easy as she was to rile up, she was also easy to seduce. 

"Quit it" She mutters, squeezing the foot in her hand. She adjusts in her seat, letting your foot rest more comfortably across her thigh. You shift your foot from her hold slightly, just a little to the left, earning a hard look from her before she moves your foot to rest in a more appropriate place on her lap. “brat”

She clears her throat. "Vale, have you chosen?" 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The Christmas lights upholstered on nearby buildings danced in the soft glow of the evening. The faint sound of a guitar strummed in the distance.

Dinner was delicious. 

But you weren't ready for the night to end just yet. Alexia has been so busy with work lately, preparing for the last stretch of games for the year. Practice has been longer, she's had post-practice meetings to attend, and you've been bored at home with no one to annoy. You wanted to spend as much time with your girlfriend tonight before she inevitably has to go back to focusing on football.

You shift the weight on your feet. Louboutin heels. Classic. Stunning. But at this point, they were starting to feel like a form of slow torture. You had insisted on wearing them tonight, not because they were the most comfortable choice, but because they looked perfect with your lace stockings.

And you certainly did not mind the look of approval from your girlfriend when you slipped them on earlier that night. 

"Shall I order an Uber?" Alexia came up from behind you, reaching into her pocket for her phone, but you stop her. 

"Wait. Let's go to the Christmas Market" 

Her head snaps towards you, an expression of utter disbelief in her face. “The market-- bebe, ya es tarde. It’s late” 

She gestures towards you feet with a flick of her chin. “And you’re wearing heels" 

But you were stubborn. And as soon as you made up your find, it was hard to steer you away from it. 

”Come onnn. It’s not that far." You plead at her. You pull out your phone, typing in "christmas market near me" in google maps. A few options pop up, and the nearest one was a 10 minute walk from the restaurant. "See. It's only a 10 minute walk" 

“Bebe,” An arm clutches your elbow. “you’re wearing your new heels”

"So? I walk in heels all the time”

Alexia groans, massaging her temple. She’s been told most of her life that she was as stubborn as a mule, but she swears you are the most stubborn person she has ever met. 

“Si. Fine. But I don’t want to hear you complaining when your feet hurt because of those heels”

"Fine." You turn away, head down, focused on the google map directions. Your heels clicking sharply as you strut in the direction that the arrow is pointing towards. 

Alexia can only sigh and shake her head, quickly jogging over to catch up with you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You walked on through the festive streets, the Christmas lights now casting a soft light as you wander through the different stalls. Hand in hand, the air felt even colder against your cheeks.

For a moment, you were far too entranced by all the sights to focus on the pain pulsing from your feet. About 5 minutes into your walk to the Christmas market, you felt the pinching in your feet. For a while you could ignore it.

But now the pain came charging back.

Your jaw was set in that familiar stubborn line, and you were less talkative than usual. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was happily admiring the market stalls, her eyes scanning all there was to see. There were stalls for handcrafted ornaments, delicate glass figurines, and hand-knitted scarves. 

Ahead, a golden carousel spun gently, its colours vivid against the evening sky. Laughter from children and muted conversations were the only sounds that filled the air. You grabbed the Barcelona captain’s hand and tugged her closer to the carousel, your face lit up with excitement at the thought of being off your feet for a minute or two. “Let’s ride the carousel”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. But she let you pull her towards the ticket booth for the carousel. “Estar loco— Vale. Let’s go”

You made their way to the carousel, slipping into a pair of loveseat carriage. The lights of the market twinkled around you as the carousel begun to take you for a ride.

The fact that you were temporarily relived of the pain in your feet as you sat beside your lover was a bonus.

As the carousel spun, you shared laughs and smiles, the world outside of your little bubble fading away. It was one of those rare moments in life when everything felt right—the perfect combination of place, time, and heart. 

Alexia took out her phone from her pocket, snapping a few photos of you and then turning the phone so it can capture the both of you. Alexia scooted closer so she can rest her cheek against yours for a photo. She smelled good. A mix of something warm, sweet, and achingly familiar—like a fire burning low, above roasted chestnuts and sticks of sweet vanilla.

“hace frio”

You turn your head to look at her, not hearing her clearly the first time. “hm?”

Alexia puts her phone back into her pocket before she brings her hands up to her mouth. She rubs her palms together, blowing warm air into them, before she brings her hands to your cheeks. She gently holds your face between her palms, her hands providing some much needed warmth from the bite of the cold. “your cheeks are cold, mi amor”

Pretty hazel eyes meet yours. You could see her own cheeks start to turn rosy, but here she was warming yours. 

“My lips are cold too” 

Alexia bites her lower lip, her eyes dropping to your lips. She brings you closer, gently tilting your head. “We wouldn’t want that, huh?”

Soft, plump lips meet yours. The cold was the least of your worries. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

After the carousel, you both decided to wander through the rest of the market. 

You hated to admit it but your feet were really starting to hurt. 

Glancing down at your feet, you wince slightly as another sharp wave of discomfort shot up your legs.

But there was no way you were telling Alexia. She will probably have that annoyingly attractive smirk on her face the entire way home, and the last thing you needed right now was a gloating girlfriend. 

You mask the flash of pain threatening to spill on your face. 

Then, you caught the whiff of the aroma of warm chocolate. You both followed the scent, winding through the market until you reached a little stall tucked between the old stone buildings. It was decorated simply but beautifully—festive red and gold ribbons, a sign that read “Chocolate Caliente con Brandy” in a looping script, and snowflakes delicately painted on the wooden cart.

You approached the stall, where the vendor—a cheerful older man with a wide grin—greeted you. "¡Buenas noches, chicas! Hot chocolate?”

“Si, we’ll take two, por favor" You were hoping the little bit of alcohol would numb the pain swelling in your feet. It felt like your toes were being put through a meat grinder. “I’ll have two shots of Brandy in mine, please” 

You ignore the eyebrow raise Alexia shot you from your peripheral. 

The vendor nodded and got to work, carefully pouring thick, rich chocolate from a large pot, adding a dash of brandy in one mug, before doubling it for yours. He hands over the two steaming mugs. You accepted the cup, the warmth spreading through your hands.

You wished it was your feet that was getting relief though.

You brought it to your lips and took a sip. It was exactly what you needed—silky smooth, indulgently sweet, with just the right amount of kick. You hoped the alcohol would numb the growing pain in your feet. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you hoped Alexia wouldn’t notice.

You watch from the rim of your mug as your girlfriend tries a bit of the hot chocolate. She takes a sip and beams at you, throwing up an uncharacteristic thumbs up which you laugh at, briefly ignoring the pinching feeling in your feet. 

“Let’s go,” She asks, taking another sip of her hot chocolate as gestures towards the other colourful stalls. “There’s more to see” 

You grit your teeth. The last thing you wanted was to keep in walking even further from the entrance of the market. You were both already so deep inside the market, engulfed in the crowd of market-goers and cosy stalls. The thought of having to walk back on uneven, cobblestone grounds in these heels just to leave made you want to throw up. 

But you were stubborn. 

And you weren’t about to willingly admit that Alexia was right. 

You knew that if she found out that you were in pain, she’ll immediately drag you home. You weren’t ready to let the night end just yet. 

With a deep breath, which you try to mask as naturally as possible, you give her a tight-lipped smile and take one step forward. You could feel the heels digging into the arch of your foot, your toes squished together. 

Ouch. 

Bloody fucking hell. 

You were going to throw these shoes out the window as soon as you got home.

Sipping your hot chocolate, you clench your jaw as you eye the uneven, cobblestone path ahead. As you walked a few paces, trying your hardest to focus on the twinkling Christmas lights, you failed to notice Alexia’s glances at your feet.

Truthfully, she noticed your discomfort earlier on. She had been keeping an eye out and watching your step for you to make sure you don’t trip. 

She knew that you wanted to spend as much time with her before she had to focus on work. While she would’ve loved to see you break first and admit that she was right about your painful heels, she hates seeing you in pain more. 

“I swear, I can see your expression changing from 'wow the lights are so pretty' to 'I’m in fucking pain' every time we stop.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You threw your empty mug of hot chocolate in the bin.

All of a sudden, you feel a hand gently tug you by the crook of your elbow. You wordlessly let her drag you to a spot behind one of the stalls. You were just about to open your mouth and ask her why she dragged you to a secluded spot like a serial killer would, when all of a sudden your girlfriend turns around and crouches down in front of you. 

“Que? What are you doing?” You blinked in surprise.

Alexia smirks, before gesturing at her back. “Piggyback ride,” she said, with the same mischievous grin. "You’ve been too stubborn to tell me, and you probably won’t admit it.”

“Admit what—?” You start but shut your mouth as soon as Alexia gives you a knowing look. Fuck.

“Stubborn girl. C’mom, get on” For a moment, you were speechless, caught off guard by how she could possibly know. You considered playing it off.

But the thought of walking another step in those heels was almost unbearable.

She reached back to grab your hands and help you onto her back. With one swift motion, you were hoisted up effortlessly. You couldn’t help but grin.

Having an athlete girlfriend definitely had it’s perks. 

Your feet, now happily relieved, dangled as Alexia began to walk through the market, the cool night air against your face, the warmth of your lover beneath you (in a different way). 

The Catalan glanced back with a teasing smile. “Better?"

"Much better," you admitted, your voice light and happy. "I think I could get used to this.”

"I knew it," She said with a soft laugh, settling you a little higher on her back, making sure you were comfortable. “I told you those heels would hurt”

“I never said that,” You reply, wrapping your arms tighter around Alexia. You leaned your head against hers, whispering in her ear. “What if I just wanted a piggyback ride” 

“Whatever you say, mi amor”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The crisp air was filled with the scents of roasted chestnuts and pin. The gentle sway of your girlfriend’s movements was unsurprisingly steady. You leaned your head against her shoulder, the warmth of her body almost as comforting as the hot chocolate that you were sipping on earlier.

“You know,” You murmured, glancing up at the twinkling lights above them, “I should wear these heels more often.”

Alexia paused in her stride, turning her head to look at you. She had that wrinkle between her eyebrows that you so loved. “What— so you can endure the pain again?”

“No,” You chide softly, snugging your face into the crook of her neck. The soft knit of her coat hung loosely on her frame, exposing just enough of her neck to tempt you closer. You press a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her collarbone.

“So you can piggyback me more often”

She laughs at that, throwing her head back and all. Her hand gently stroked your leg. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride anytime, bebe. As long as you’re nice to me” 

You tickle her neck in response.

Soon you pass a stall selling charming hand-carved wooden reindeers. People were milling around, laughing and enjoying the festive atmosphere. 

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, ”You’re sure you’re not getting tired? You’ve been carrying me for a while now.”

Your lover raised an eyebrow, the playful glint in her hazel eyes unmistakable. “What, you think I can’t handle a few pounds of gorgeous woman?”

“Well you have been slacking on the pitch lately— ow” A pinch to your ass. 

Alexia adjusted her hold on you, and started walking towards the exit gates of the market. 

“Shut up. Or else I will drop you, brat” 

happy new year, my loves!

thank you for being one of the best parts of my 2024 x

read more brat!reader stories here

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[jyoongim]

We don't talk enough about the fact that the petname "baby" became super popular around the 1910's-1920's (Alastor's time). He calls everyone "dear" and "my dear" in canon but can you imagine him just laying the flirt on THICK and addressing his darling as baby bc he sees it as THE smoothest thing ever.

It was Valentine's Day and Hell seemed to be busier than usual. Charlie had everyone participate in decorating the hotel and saying something nice to each other.

You had made cards and little Knick-knacks for everyone. A cat plush for Charlie.

A dagger for Vaggie.

Boots for Angel.

Rare liquor for Husk

A bug zapper for Niffty.

The only person who you hadn’t been able to to give a gift to was Alastor. You had found a old timey radio that was trimmed gold with chestnut wood. It was beautiful and you hoped he would like it.

You squeaked as you bumped into something, head craning to see just the person you were looking for.

”Oh Alastor! You were just who i was looking for” you smiled, taking a tiny step back to reveal your gift.

The tall, red demon tilted his head as he cracked a smile.

”What do i owe the pleasure my dear” He asked as you gently push the gift into his hands.

You blushed, feeling nervous as he fiddled with the radio ”W-Well its Valentine’s Day andCharliereallyinsistedthat everyone do something nice for those they c-care about a-and ijustthoughtyouwouldlikeit!” You rambled seeing him sit the radio down and wrap a arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

A deep rumble vibrated throughout his chest at you buried your head in his chest in embarrassment 

“Oh darling I love it” he purred, lifting up your face by your chin to look at him.

His smile was  genuine, eyes full of playfulness “Oooh were you worried I wouldn’t like your gift baby?”

You blinked. Did he just-

“I got you a gift too baby” Your eyes lit up as  he pulled a tiny velvet gift box from his coat.

You let out a soft gasp, a pretty ruby necklace. “Oh Alastor…”

He motioned for you to lift your hair, securing the clasp and smoothing the jewelry on your neck. Taking the opportunity to nip at your neck

”Such a pretty doll you are baby”

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed

[dark-moonlust]

Centaur’s Mate

Pairing: Centaur x human reader

Summary: you are traveling the valley when you meet your mate, a handsome and powerful centaur. You get pounded good, and taken back to his home. He’ll keep you forever.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit centaur smut, huge 🍆, magic to fit, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

The sun hung low in the sky, its shafts casting an amber glow over the wide, rolling plains. The vast valley stretched out in every direction, a feast for the eyes. The view certainly made up for your traveling all these days. It was a breathtaking place, serene and the perfect escape from every day life.

As you ascended a gentle hill, you saw him.

At first, he appeared like a dream, his form shimmering in the distance.

But as you walked closer, you realized it was a centaur—a centaur!

Standing tall and majestic, the fading light cast shadows upon his massive form. His upper body was that of a powerful man, his shoulders wide, his chest broad, his arms muscular and toned. His lower half, however, was that of a sleek, strong horse, its coat a glossy chestnut brown.

Eyes as brown as the coffee bore into yours and took your breath away. There was something in his gaze, in his towering presence and otherworldly beauty that awoke pleasure instead of fear. You should be running for your life yet you remained moveless, captivated.

The centaur approached you, his hooves tapping the ground.

“Little human,” he said, his voice deep and scratchy. “What brings you to my lands?”

“I… I am traveling,” you stammered, head rising to face him. Now that he was closer he was at least two heads taller than you. “Am I trespassing?”

“You are welcome here.” He smiled and that made your pulse quicken.

“Fate has brought you to me at last,” he said, a hand reaching out to caress your cheek. “You look tired, little one. Allow me to offer you some comfort.”

Before you could respond, he cupped your midsection and lifted you, bringing you against him. His hold was potent, his scent musky and woody. His fingers roamed your back, massaging the tender muscles while his scent willed your submission. You felt all warm and tingling, his scent was indeed intoxicating and you felt a strange connection spark between you.

You barely protested when your clothes were tugged away.

One by one, the centaur exposed you to him, his eyes kissing your exposed skin with hunger.

“You are beautiful, little traveller,” he murmured, his eyes gazing at your pert breasts, your soft tummy and between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together, your pussy slick and hot.

“Why? What’s happening?” you whispered, feeling more liquid warmth trickle down your thighs.

“You’re responding to me. As you should, my mate”, he said, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ve waited a long time for you.”

More wetness gathered in your cunt and you winced at the throbbing need that steadily spread all over your body. You leaned into him, whining softly when he kissed your dry mouth, his lips brushing yours languidly. You clutched his soft mane while his tongue slipped into your mouth and mated with yours. The kiss went on and on, and he slowly brought his hand between your thighs, working them open. You mumbled a weak protest against his lips but he swallowed it with his kisses.

His large hand nudged your legs, a calloused finger rubbing your poor needy clit, round and round while you blabbered in his mouth and begged him for more. The thick finger entered your pussy, curving deep inside. Gods, even his finger was as thick as a human dick. Your thoughts scattered when he added another, your juices more than enough to keep him going. Slick sounds resounded as he finger fucked you while kissing you hungrily.

“Yes, that’s right, such a good tight pussy,” he said, curving his long fingers inside you. “Feels good, doesn’t it, little human?”

“Hmn… feels so good.” You arched your back, pleading him to give you more.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his voice vibrating through you.

“I trust you.”

“Close your eyes, little mate.”

With a nod, you did as told. You felt him fingering you deep, his finger squelching lewdly. A tingly warmth followed as he stroked you deep but with care, murmuring under his breath, the words foreign to your ears. You winced a little and guessed he had added another finger.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered, his voice strained.

You blinked, welcoming the view of his beautiful face and then gazed down at where his fingers parted your pussy. Your eyes widened! You had taken four of his fingers inside you, your lips stretched wide and trickling slick juices. Desire pulsed, you saw him pull them out, a wet squelch echoing before he thrust them back in with ease.

“You did something, didn’t you?”

“Centaur magic.” He kissed your forehead. “I’d never put my mate in danger.”

You smiled. He was so sweet, while finger fucking you into oblivion.

“You’ll take my cock deep inside you, won’t you, love?” he drawled, his free hand pinching a tight pink nipple.

“Ahnnn yesssss, I’ll try.”

He groaned, deep and low as he lifted you and pumped his fingers even deeper. Your feet left the ground and wrapped around his horse shoulders. You clutched his strong arms for stability while he stroked your sensitive walls and kissed you. You came with a loud cry, wiggling your waist to ride his fingers deeper and faster. You felt him smile against your skin and gently, he set you on your feet.

Growling low, he moved you, his hooves pounding steadily on the ground. Strong human hands guided you to stand against a huge boulder, your feet firmly on the ground, palms flat against the stone. Positioning his great horse body behind you, he stretched as far as he could go, his front hooves settling way above your head. He bent a little to adjust your height difference, supporting his weight on his back hooves.

You shivered at the feel of someone so huge against your back. You looked back and down, your eyes widening at the cock rising from under his horse belly. It was at least the size of five of his fingers. The massive length jutted upwards, the flared head leaking with pre-cum— lots of it. His balls were huge and swollen, hanging heavily from between his horse legs. You licked your lips, wondering just how you’d feel taking that monster dick inside you.

"I can’t," you muttered, breathless. “Too big.”

“You can, little mate,” he said as his swollen cock rubbed against your pussy. “You took my fingers, you were made for me.”

Heat curled down your spine at what you were about to do. But the Centaur seemed to sense your worry, so he shifted a little just so he could slide his fingers over your leaking cunt.

“Drenched and ready,” he said huskily. “My magic protects your pretty pink cunt. Do not fear.”

“O… okay. Be gentle?”

“Always, my love.”

You held your breath when you felt his cock sliding across your entrance, your pussy hot and slick. His shaft pressed closer against you, his smell surrounding you; musky animal and masculine.

Gently, he entered you, the cockhead invading the tight slit of your pussy. You inhaled sharply, your jaw slackening as you felt him penetrate you, his powerful body invading your smaller one. The sensation was unbelievable, overwhelming. You expected to feel pain but only pleasure came. You gasped when he buried himself to the hilt.

You’d taken a massive centaur cock. You felt it throb inside you, causing your belly to puff up. The centaur turned even harder at the sight of your stomach and you hissed as the head of his cock kissed your cervix.

"Tight," he groaned. “My little mate with her perfect little cunny.”

“Wow,” you panted, feeling so stretched and full.

He fucked you slowly at first, his cock drawing out of your depths frothing with your juices. You were so wet and despite the extreme tightness, that allowed him to fuck you in steady surges. His pace soon picked up, his horse body moving against you, leaving you no choice but to take his invasion.

He buried himself over and over while his heavy balls bounced and hit your clit. Eyes shutting, you came hard around him, sweet climax rolling through you. He pumped even harder, growling like the beast he was, while you mewled and rocked with the power of his horse hips. With a defeating roar, he spurted inside you, his cock pulsing so strongly that you came again with violent aftershocks.

Load after load of cum exploded inside you, it was too much. It filled your belly, turned it even more round and trickled down your shaking legs. Sleepy and pleasantly fucked, you barely noticed as he turned you and strapped you to his body, securing you with strong but soft bindings. The hold on you was sturdy but didn’t hurt you at all. His cock was buried deep inside you, your cheeks cradled against his belly.

“I will take you to my home now, little mate,” he said fondly. “You will be safe with me, cherished, loved and well-fucked forever.”

[pastryfication]

winter wonderland

pairing: kimi antonelli x leclerc!reader

note: i’m not really satisfied with this but it’s cosy and christmassy so we ball 🙂‍↕️

part one of my advent celebration

december had a way of coming creeping just at the right time. it brought a lightness to everything, spreading a nice warm feeling across everything as it rolled around with its christmas cheer and holiday cosiness.

to celebrate christmas that year, your family had rented out a cabin at your favourite ski resort, nestled in the heart of the french alps. it was a tradition you had kept up for a long time, but for the first time, the friend you brought wasn’t just a friend. he was someone much more special.

the small chalet style cabin your brother had arranged for your group was the perfect charming blend of rustic elegance and winter magic. it was made of dark wood with steep, snow-covered roofs adorned with twinkling fairy lights that cast a warm glow as the night settled in. snow piled neatly on the nearby balconies, where wreaths and red ribbons hung along the edges, adding festive touches to the scene.

you and kimi had gotten your own room—much to arthur’s dismay—and it was as magical as the rest of the house. until then, you had enjoyed your evenings together, cuddled in the warm, cozy bed, but as it was your boyfriend’s last night with you before he flew home to spend the holidays with his family, you had decided to go explore a small village located just outside the boarder of the resort.

you were walking along a small road close to the middle of the town. the square was alive with the cheerful hum of holiday spirit, and market stalls lined the cobblestone paths, selling everything from hand-knit scarves to spiced cider and roasted chestnuts. a large christmas tree stood proudly at the center, its branches decorated with delicate glass ornaments and shimmering tinsel, while the soft notes of a carol floated through the air from a street performer’s violin.

beyond the village, you could see the ski runs snake down the mountainside, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. skiers and snowboarders still dotted the slopes, gliding gracefully down the white mountainside. the peaks of the surrounding alps, capped with snow, rose majestically against the sky shifting from pale blue to the soft lavender of twilight.

it was getting late, and your mum had already sent a message to let you know that you had to be home soon, but everything about the moment was so absolutely perfect, and you didn’t want to break it just yet.

the snow crunched delicately under your boots as you took another step through the magic winter wonderland of the small village. the street performer had changed to a christmas love song, the soft tones creating the perfect backdrop to your walk.

despite the thick, fluffy gloves you both were wearing, kimi’s hand felt warm in yours. every so often, he’d squeeze it a little tighter, a silent signal that made you glance up. his eyes always met yours with that familiar, loving sparkle, sometimes followed by a quick kiss on the tip of your cold nose.

he adored the way you looked all bundled up in your thick coat, scarf and woollen hat with a frosty blush covering your cheeks. it made him all giddy on the inside and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger as a goofy smile took over his face. it made your heart skip; it was rare to see him this relaxed, away from the newfound pressure of the track and cameras.

“i wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered as you passed a stall selling handmade ornaments. kimi’s fingers squeezed yours again, and when you looked up, he had that smile—the one that made your heart flutter.

“me too,” he said, his voice low and earnest, before he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

you looked at him, puzzled. he turned to you fully and whispered your name, his breath visible in the cold air. “i love you.”

your smile widened, a new blush spreading across your cheeks—this time not from the chill. “i love you more.”

“not possible,” he immediately remarked back, not giving you a chance to protest. even if you hadn’t been able to see his face, you would still have been able to hear the smile in his voice.

you smiled right back up at him, but before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. it was short and sweet, both of you smiling into the kiss, and when you pulled apart, giggles filled the air between you.

“we should probably head back,” you said, the reluctance clear in your voice as you glanced at the sky now deepening into night.

he sighed, nodding. “yeah. wouldn’t want to give your brothers another reason to dislike me.”

you pouted, your gloved hand coming up to caress his cheek. “they don’t hate you. they just have a hard time accepting the fact that i’ve grown up.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding his head with soft eyes. “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

✦ ✦ ✦

later, as found yourself at home in the cabin once again, with the glow from the windows of the chalets and lodges reflecting off the snow, casting a magical light over the landscape, you found yourself back at your favourite place in the world: your boyfriend’s arms.

the scent of pine trees and wood smoke came in from the slightly open window and mingled with the faint sweetness of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen, where your mum and charlotte were cooking up snacks for your movie night.

a small fire crackled in the stone fireplace, its warmth spreading throughout the room. your family were all gathered around, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the air. charles emerged from the hallway with a soft smile, leaning down to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your temple before he moved on to alex, who sat on the couch with an amused grin, and they exchanged a friendly nudge and a few teasing words.

arthur was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a blanket with only his tousled hair visible. he shot you a playful glare when he caught sight of you and kimi on the loveseat, but it was softened by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

lorenzo was resting next to him, more up right and put together, but still relaxed in a way he only was around you. next to him, two empty spots were waiting for the rest of your close knit family.

leo was shuffling around on the floor, overwhelmed by the amount of cuddly people within his vicinity. his cute little snout poked at all of you as he surveyed the room, before he finally decided to join you and kimi by jumping into your lap.

you let out a small giggle and went to pet him. as the dog settled in between you, kimi’s arm tightened around you just a bit and you looked up at him with an adoring smile.

this, right here, felt absolutely perfect. this was your epitome of happiness. this was your wonderland. the most magical place in the world.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The accidental spark | LN4

🧣 summary ━━━━━━━ During a snowy Christmas getaway, Y/N and Lando’s constant bickering hides unspoken tension. A heated argument in the snow leads to an accidental kiss, revealing deeper feelings.

🧣pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🧣 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.1k

Snowflakes drifted down lazily, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a layer of soft white. The small mountain town was glowing with festive charm, its cobblestone streets lined with twinkling lights and garlands of evergreen. Y/N tugged her coat tighter around her, her breath fogging in the crisp air as she trudged through the snow. She could hear faint carols from the town square and smell the inviting scent of roasting chestnuts.

She didn’t want to think about the beachside chalet, the holiday getaway that had seemed like a dream before Lando Norris started tagging along. Their group of friends had planned a peaceful Christmas retreat, but sharing a roof with Lando had turned out to be more like a nightmare.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called behind her, the irritation unmistakable.

She stopped in her tracks, her boots crunching against the snow. Turning, she found Lando jogging toward her, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, a cocky grin plastered across his face.

“What do you want, Lando?” she asked, sighing heavily.

“Just wondering why you’re running off alone,” he replied, catching up to her. “You planning to avoid everyone tonight or just me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I needed some air, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Of course, it’s not,” he said, falling into step beside her. “But you seem awfully grumpy for someone who’s supposed to be enjoying Christmas.”

“Maybe I’d be in a better mood if I wasn’t constantly stuck dealing with you,” she snapped, the sharpness of her tone matching the cold wind.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, unfazed. “The holiday cheer I’ve come to expect from you.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“Nope,” he said with a shrug, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Her frustration boiled over. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, you’re still talking to me,” he shot back, his smirk growing wider.

She groaned, turning on her heel to walk away, but he caught her wrist gently, pulling her to a stop.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just... I wanted to check on you.”

Her irritation faltered, replaced by confusion. “Why do you even care?”

His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Maybe I care more than you think.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly shook her head, unwilling to fall into whatever game he was playing.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, pulling her wrist free. “Whatever this is, just stop.”

“What do you mean, ‘this’?” he asked, stepping closer.

“This... back-and-forth,” she said, gesturing between them. “You act like I’m some sort of challenge to win, and I’m sick of it.”

His brow furrowed, the teasing smile fading. “Is that really what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Lando?” she asked, her voice rising. “You never take anything seriously, least of all me.”

“I take you seriously,” he said, his voice low but firm.

She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms. “Right. That’s why you spend all your time making me feel like I’m just here for your amusement.”

He stepped closer, his expression intense. “You’re not here for my amusement.”

“Then what am I here for?” she demanded, her chest tightening with frustration and something she couldn’t name.

He hesitated, his jaw working as he struggled for words. “You’re here because... because I want you to be.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she was too stunned to respond. The snow fell softly around them, the world feeling suddenly still.

“You want me to be?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he said, his gaze locked on hers.

The weight of his words hung between them, and before she could process what was happening, he leaned in slightly, their faces just inches apart. Her breath hitched, and she stepped back instinctively, but the movement brought her foot onto an icy patch.

She slipped, and he moved quickly, his arms catching her before she could fall.

“Careful,” he murmured, his face so close to hers that she could feel his warmth despite the chill.

And then, it happened.

It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t planned. But as he steadied her, their lips brushed—just the faintest touch, but enough to send a jolt through her.

She pulled back quickly, her cheeks flushing. “That wasn’t—”

“Planned?” he finished for her, his voice soft.

She nodded, her heart racing. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t it?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“It was an accident,” she insisted, refusing to meet his gaze.

“If it was an accident,” he said, stepping closer, “then why do you look like you’re about to run away?”

“I’m not running away,” she said defensively.

He tilted his head, studying her. “If you’re feeling brave, you’ll do it again.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his smirk returning. “But you’re still standing here.”

Her chest tightened, her mind racing. She wanted to argue, to deny the pull she felt toward him, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn’t teasing, not entirely. There was something deeper there, something raw and real that she couldn’t ignore.

“Lando...” she started, her voice faltering.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’m not playing games. I swear. I just... I don’t know how to do this. With you.”

Her heart softened at the vulnerability in his words, and she sighed, letting her defenses lower.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there in silence for a moment, the snow falling gently around them. And then, without thinking, she leaned in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was anything but accidental.

This time, it was deliberate.

His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, the world around them fading away. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathless.

“That didn’t feel like an accident,” he said, his voice tinged with humor and awe.

“No,” she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. “It didn’t.”

He grinned, his arms tightening around her. “Does this mean we’re done pretending to hate each other?”

She laughed softly, the sound filled with relief. “Maybe. But don’t think this means I’m going to start going easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, his eyes shining with warmth.

And as the snow continued to fall and the distant sound of carols filled the air, they stood together, the tension between them finally melting away, leaving only the beginning of something new.

[ang3ltine]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 - ft Se mi x freader 18 +

Description: Story is based off an apocalyptic game. You and Se mi stumble across a pot basement and get carried away. There, Se mi realises she has a 'daddy kink'.

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: smoking weed , smut, dirty talk, fingering , use of dildo, being high , soft dom! Se mi, sub! freader

"𝙂𝙤 𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙘𝙪𝙢. 𝘾𝙪𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙄'𝙢 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤..! 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬".

Your mind was already in the clouds, already forgetting about the reason as to why you're both here. To collect supplies and scout the area.

Yet here you were, fucking in a basement full of weed at an abandoned school.

Supplies were running dangerously low so You and Se mi were sent to get some more. Along with a scouting the new area to check for more of the 'infected'.

Mounting your horses, you both set out at dawn, beyond the gates of Jackson. It was about midday when you finally arrived at said location that your boss had give you.

The women next to you was your partner Se mi. She wore a brown leather jacket with padding inside paired with worn out jeans. You on the other hand wore a long dark trench coat with a winter hat and thick grey jeans.

No scouts had checked this area yet so you both were sent here to investigate and bring back sufficient supplies.

"So chief, what do you think? Looks like the area isn't swarmed with infected yet." Se mi pointed out while she stops beside you with her chestnut brown horse.

Rolling your eyes at the ravenette, you carefully examine the map in your hands. "Look, I'm sure they're still here. They might be hiding somewhere."

Unfortunately your hunch was correct. A small hoard of infected indeed have been hiding underneath the gaps of the houses.

They had awakened after hearing the noises from the horses. Having no choice, you both had barred yourselves in an abandoned school after successfully killing a handful of the 'zombies' on the way there.

"Shit that was close," you huffed as you bring out your torchlight and then grabbed Se mi's hand.

"Maybe we can find the break room and turn the generator on. Get some rest and stock up on supplies then leave. How does that sound?"

Se mi was too focused on you holding her hand since you usually don't initiate in skinship unless you wanted to. Smiling to herself, she gives your hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah sure, just don't get scared shitless if an infected happened to sneak in ", she snickered as you huffed in annoyance.

"Way to ruin the mood", you shook your head in disappointment as you both make your way further into the desolate building.

"You still love me though."

It took a while to reach the basement but you eventually did. You both were in shock as you descend the wooden planks of the stairs.

"Holy shit! There's pot down here?"Se mi whisper shouted, just in case somebody heard them.

There were mini greenhouses full of weed and someone's personal belongings scattered everywhere.

You hastily made your way to the breakers and turn the lights and heating on. " You think Old man Richie lives here?", you suggested as you look at some items and papers with charts scattered on a desk.

"Hmm probably, idk I haven't seen him in a while," Se mi says with a rolled up blunt in her mouth, already lighting it.

"You gotta be kidding me, there's no way you're trying to get high now. We're supposed to be looking for supplies!," you huffed as you went to grab the blunt from in between Se mi's lips.

She had already taken a huge drag and blowing it out. The strong smell of weed hung in the air, making you scrunch your nose. You weren't really a huge fan of it. Sw mi knew ofcourse but she's just being a little shit.

"Since we're here we might as well have some fun," Se mi drawled as she pulls you closer to her. You had to cover her mouth with your hand to block the smell from reaching your nose.

"Uh uh , not after having that crap-", you exclaimed before getting cutoff by Se mi. She quickly grabbed hold of your wrist, and brang your hand to her chest. Her heart rate had increased as you look up to see that her eyes had begun to dliate.

"See this? This is how you're making me feel right now. Absolutely crazy," Se mi pointed out as her voice goes on octave deeper. Leaning down she lightly grazes your lips with hers as your breath hitches. She glances into your eyes, silently asking for your permission.

Seeing as there was no way out of this, you gave in. Pressing your lips against hers with fervent as you reach up to entangle you fingers into her raven hair. You tug at it gently, pulling out a low groan from Se mi as she deepens the kiss.

Her lips were slightly chapped but it didn't bother you as much, they were still soft. Tasting the weed on her tongue as she slowly backs you up to the sofa behind you.

Yelping as soon as she picks you up behind your legs and plops you down onto the soft cushions. They were slightly dirty but that wasn't really on your mind right now. Se mi had crawled ontop of you to pull you in for another heated kiss. Whispering sweet nothings againgst your lips while you let out soft moans. Bucking up mindlessly against her hips.

"Daddy please-," you unexpectedly let out making Se mi stop for a second. Her eyes slowly turned dark from lust as she asks you to repeat what you just said. Blinking in confusion you think back to what you said.

"Daddy please...?", Se mi sat there , sinking in the given pet name and something in her snapped. She's never been called that before, but she likes it. She really likes it.

Quickly stripping you, she left you in just your underwear. Burying her face into your neck to leave harsh kisses and bites all along your supple skin. She rips off your bra before attaching her lips onto your erected nipples, sucking and swirling around both buds carefully.

Her hand reaches down towards your heat, already feeling a wet spot on your underwear.

"Huh.. that wet for me already? Just from a few kisses?" She chuckles darkly as she removes the dainty piece of clothing onto the floor beside you.

You feel her push in her index finger into you, slowly, making sure you would feel every inch of her girthy finger. The feeling of her fingers stretching you oh so deliciously got you drooling - fuck even Se mi seemed to be enjoying this more than you. Picking up the pace, she was practically fucking you with her rough fingers. Abusing your sopping wet cunt while mindlessly sucking your boob's, taking turns on each one.

Her pace never once faltered, not when you looked so good when throwing your head back in pleasure and moaning out her name. Se mi, bit each and every inch of skin she could reach, while her fingers remained curled inside you. You were so close.

"Shit Se mi! Gonna cum - please I'm gonna..-"

"Do it. Cum all over my fingers baby" she hissed as she looks down at you through her lashes. Admiring your ruined form with a lazy smirk.

Just like that you saw white. You came so fucking hard from just her fingers, panting and trembling slightly as she helped you ride your orgasm. Until she pulls out her strap tucked underneath her jeans. " wha-- why do you have that on?", you manage to breathe out as she gently taps the plastic onto your stimulated pussy.

"Eh, idk just felt like it," she shrugged as you place you head back onto the armrest of the couch. "That's really dirty of you, you know that right-?". Your breath caught in your throat as she pushes her length into your tight warm cunt. It's been a while since she's fucked you, so deep down, you were excited.

With her hands bruising your ass, she latches her lips onto your left nipple, repeating the action as her dick fucked you deep and slow. You reach down to rest your hand on her cheek and led her into a messy kiss, she responded by pushing her tongue past your lips. Exploring each and every corner of your mouth inside.

The room filled with the smell of weed, sweat and sex as the two of you made out. Se mi smirked againgst your lips as you whine in frustration because she was going too slow.

"What's wrong princess? You want me to go faster?" She muses as you nod profusely.

"Use your words~"

"Please daddy, I want you to go faster...!" Like a flick of a switch, her hands gripped your hips, before thrusting into you. She buckled her hips into you , her dick bruising your cervix and making your velvet walls tighten around her.

"Good girl...", she whispers into your ear as she begins to ruin you.

Her fingers left marks on your skin, she reached up to grope your breasts while kissing you lazily. The weed coming into affect yet again, all while pounding your poor dripping pussy.

Her dick kept on sliding in and out of you while you guys made out on the couch. Smirking proudly at your breathless moans and cries of pleasure. You looked heavenly to her, your wispy hair fell messily around your head like a halo, and your cheeks were tinted a rosy pink.

"That's it gorgeous, keep making those sounds for me only. You like me pounding you like this? Like when I turn you into a mess?"

Oh the way she makes you crumble beneath her touch. How were you supposed to answer when she was fucking you so deeply that you've become dumbed out?

You moaned rather loudly as she presses down on the bulge her dick made on your stomach. Whimpering slightly as you scrape her toned back with your nails, feeling another orgasm approach.

"You gonna cum for me babe? I'm close too, go on cum on this dick! Cream on this dick for me right now".

Her pace quickened yet again and was pounding into you impossibly deeper. Burying the strap deep inside you 'till none of it could be seen visibly. Her grip on you was merciless as you moaned into her mouth, finally letting your orgasm wash out.

With one last harsh thrust into your dripping wet cunt, she bit down onto your neck as she too releases her cum into the plastic dildo attached to her. Your legs trembled once you came on her dick. The aftershocks from your orgasm stayed a while as you both lay together on the couch with Se mi resting ontop of you.

"Damnn, that was hot. Didn't know you had it in you darling," she shakily breathed out with a proud smile on her face, as the affect from the weed had slowly began to wear off.

"So...smart ass, how're we gonna get cleaned up?" You say after a while, crossing your arms across your chest. Glaring at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey calm down, I'm sure the old geezer has a shower down here. Don't worry, we'll figure it out".

Pressing soft kisses all over your face and across the dark marks across your body. She slowly starts getting you both dressed.

At the end of the day, she only cares about you and your wellbeing. So soft aftercare is must after a long session like this.

"Next time don't smoke infront of me, at least not on missions."

"Sure thing princess, anything for you".

Ps: I know this is short but I hope you enjoyed it!

@mattm1964

[idkyetxoxo]

Twelve | A Soft Return | Little Star

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.7k

Warnings - None

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Velaris shimmered beneath me like a dream painted in starlight.

The wind whipped effortlessly through my hair as Cassian cut through the clouds, wings slicing the sky with that effortless power only he possessed. I clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, the warmth of his body a steady comfort against the biting altitude.

"So, are you still not going to tell me what we're doing?" Cassian asked, his voice half-lost in the rush of wind, but the smile in his tone was unmistakable.

I grinned against his shoulder. "Cass, do you not want to fly me around?" 

He didn't answer, only laughed, low, reckless and achingly familiar. The sound vibrated through his chest just before he dipped suddenly, wings snapping shut for one wild moment before flaring open again, sending us spiralling in a dizzying loop.

My stomach lurched. "Cass!" I shrieked, though I was laughing too, breathless and exhilarated. 

If I hadn't grown used to his death wish flying over the years, I'd have lost my breakfast halfway through the descent.

We eventually landed in a quiet corner of Velaris. The city unfolded around us in golden tones, the late morning sun catching on rooftops and the glint of glass storefronts. Music drifted from somewhere nearby, faint and bright.

Cassian touched down like it was nothing, graceful in a way that still irritated me sometimes. 

I smacked his chest lightly, more amused than annoyed, before fussing with my hair, which the wind had enthusiastically tried to tear free.

"You already know I love flying you around," he said, giving me his wide, boyish signature grin. "I just meant—" he hesitated, his smile faltering. "It's been years."

There was a quiet weight in those words, one I couldn't deflect. His eyes softened, full of things unsaid. And I knew—I knew that I was the reason for that distance. For the time lost.

I reached for his hand anyway and he took it without hesitation.

We slowly drifted into the heart of Velaris with our fingers loosely intertwined, the silence between us no longer sharp, but soft. Comfortable, almost. Like an old song playing low in the background.

The city pulsed with life. 

Artisans called out from colourful stalls, hawking hand-stitched cloaks and glass-blown jewellery that caught the sun like captured stars. 

Street musicians played on corners, their notes curling into the air with effortless magic. 

The scent of roasting chestnuts mingled with sugar and citrus from a nearby vendor and I didn't even realise how hungry I was until my stomach growled loud enough for Cassian to raise a smug brow.

"You need feeding before you turn feral," he teased, already veering toward the food stalls without waiting for me.

"You act like I'm the dangerous one," I muttered but followed after him anyways.

We ate far too many flaky pastries filled with sweet cream and spiced meat skewers that dripped juice down our fingers. 

Cassian somehow got powdered sugar on his nose, which he denied, of course, until I reached up and smudged it further just to be petty. He retaliated by smearing a dab of jam on my cheek. 

Childish, ridiculous and perfect. Like we had fallen into some old rhythm we'd forgotten we knew.

We browsed lazily through shops.

And then just as we turned onto one of the narrower stone streets that opened toward a fountain—I saw him.

Azriel.

He was walking alone, hands in the pockets of his dark coat, his shadows faint but still clinging like an afterthought. His expression was unreadable, as always, focused, distant, a ghost threading through the waking world. He hadn't seen us.

I slowed instinctively, tugging Cassian to a stop.

A child darted from the crowd, too fast and small for her mother to catch in time. She collided with Azriel's legs and stumbled back with a squeak of surprise.

Cassian made a noise beside me, something half-worried, half-amused but I couldn't take my eyes off what happened next.

Azriel bent down immediately, not with impatience or irritation, but with gentle precision. 

His shadows curled protectively around the girl as he knelt to her level. He said something, too soft for us to hear but whatever it was made her smile. He brushed a stray curl from her face, then handed her the doll she'd dropped in the collision. 

The tiniest shift crossed his face as he watched her. A smile, barely there but definitely real.

The girl beamed and threw her arms around him in that fearless way children do with those they instinctively trust. 

Azriel didn't pull away. He held her for a moment—just long enough and then stood as her mother arrived, breathless and apologising profusely when she recognised him.

He waved it off with a nod, already turning away and disappearing back into the crowd like shadow melting into shadow.

I didn't realise I'd stopped breathing until Cassian squeezed my hand gently.

"He still loves you, you know."

Cassian's words were gentle, not accusing but they landed like a stone in my chest. I turned slowly to look at him, surprised he'd said it so plainly.

"I know," I said quietly after a pause that felt like it spanned years. My voice sounded far away even to me lost somewhere between guilt and longing.

Cassian didn't press, didn't judge. He just waited, watching the place where Azriel had vanished into the crowd.

"I just don't get it," he finally said, glancing back at me. "He's not perfect, gods know—but he's... he's worth it. And I think you know that too."

My jaw tensed. I looked away, blinking at the way the sunlight spilt across the cobblestones like molten gold. "It's not him I'm worried about."

Cassian turned his head slowly, brows furrowing in that way he did when trying to piece something together without all the information.

A silence fell between us, thick with all the things I didn't want to say. All the things I couldn't say. 

He exhaled a quiet huff, breaking the stillness. I raised a brow at him.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes skyward, then glanced at me with reluctant amusement. "Rhys is calling me. Probably needs me for something boring and High Lord-y."

I smirked. "Aww, poor baby. Trapped in meetings instead of gallivanting around Velaris with me."

"Don't remind me." He grinned, but there was fondness in his eyes as he gave me a once-over. "You going to be okay?"

I gave him a mock-scandalised look. "Believe it or not, Cass, I'm a big girl. I can manage walking through a city without adult supervision."

He snorted. "Debatable."

Then, with a soft laugh, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek, warm, brotherly and familiar. "Try not to get into trouble."

"No promises."

He spread his wings with that signature flare of showmanship and, after one last glance, launched into the sky in a burst of wind and light. 

I watched him go, shielding my eyes as his silhouette faded into the sun-drenched clouds.

And then I was alone. Standing in the street where Azriel had been just minutes before, my heart still echoing with everything unsaid.

I stood still for a moment, letting the sounds of Velaris wrap around me like a warm blanket—laughter, music, the rhythm of footsteps on stone. 

The scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers drifted in on the breeze. It felt strange, walking alone after so long. But not bad. Just... different.

I wandered around with no real destination, letting the winding streets guide me.

The city shimmered in the sun, the domed rooftops and curved balconies painted in soft pastels and accented with gold leaf and flowering vines. 

Children ran barefoot through the fountains, vendors laughed with customers, and it struck me again, this place was a living, breathing piece of art. And I was part of it. Still.

"Excuse me?" a small voice called.

I turned and found a young child, a girl no taller than my hip standing in front of a stall draped with colourful ribbons and tiny glass vials. Her brown hair was woven into a crown braid dotted with wildflowers, her cheeks flushed with the kind of joy only Velaris seemed to cultivate.

She was holding a single rose in her hand, deep red, with soft velvet petals that caught the sun like it had been dipped in light.

"I know who you are," she said proudly, eyes wide in amazement. "You're the High Lord's sister. Mama says you help keep the city safe."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden wave of emotion swelling in my throat. "That's very kind of your mama."

She held out the rose to me. "I'm selling these today but you don't have to pay. This one's your's for free!"

My heart cracked a little at the gesture. Something so simple, so genuine.

"Well, that's very generous of you," I said, smiling gently. "But I insist on paying. A flower this pretty is worth at least a silver."

She hesitated but I pressed the coin into her palm anyways closing her fingers around it.

Then, instead of handing me the rose, she motioned for me to bend down.

As I knelt she stepped closer, lifting the rose with careful hands. She tucked it gently behind my ear, her fingers light against my temple.

"There," she said, beaming. "Now you look like a painting."

I couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped me. "Thank you," I whispered, genuinely touched. "You've made my whole day."

She paused then, eyes catching on the chain around my neck. "That's a pretty necklace," she added, curious in the way only children could be.

I reached up instinctively, fingers brushing the charm. A slow warmth blooming in my chest.

"Thank you," I said softly. "Someone... special got it for me."

She grinned, satisfied with the answer, then curtsied and skipped off to her stall, already calling out to the next passerby with a merchant's charm and a child's brightness.

I stayed there for a moment, still kneeling, smiling in that fragile, stunned way you do when someone reminds you without even meaning to that you still matter.

Unbeknownst to me, across the street, tucked into the shadows of a narrow archway, Azriel watched.

He'd seen the whole thing.

The way I'd lit up, soft and unguarded, the way the child had gravitated toward me without fear or hesitation. The rose behind my ear. The laughter that lingered like music in the air.

And for a moment, just a moment, Azriel let himself feel it. That slow, aching wonder.

The sight of her—of me shining again.

He didn't move, didn't reveal himself. Just lingered in the quiet shade, watching the girl he loved come back to life, petal by petal.

Later that night the house was silent, save for the occasional whisper of the wind against the windows. The kind of stillness that only came deep into the night, when even the stars seemed to be holding their breath.

Everyone was asleep.

I padded barefoot into the kitchen, the stone floors cool beneath my feet. I hadn't meant to end up here, it was just one of those restless, half-lost nights when the need for... something pulled at me too insistently to ignore.

I glanced around. 

The kitchen was bathed in the soft glow of a single faelight, the long wooden counters dusted with flour and a few stray crumbs from dinner hours ago. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla from whoever had last passed through.

Before I could second-guess myself, I found the old recipe tucked into the back of my mind—chocolate cake.

The last thing I had attempted to bake alone had been cookies. Charred, blackened, unsalvageable cookies.

Tonight, I wanted to try again.

I gathered the ingredients slowly, savouring the motions. Melting chocolate and butter together, stirring in sugar, eggs, flour. 

I lost myself in the rhythm, the way the scent grew richer with every turn of the spoon, the way the batter clung thickly before sliding into the battered old cake tin.

By the time I slid it into the oven, the kitchen smelled like heaven.

I leaned against the counter, arms folded, breathing in the bittersweet air. Something in my chest eased that I hadn't realised was still tight.

The timer dinged a while later, too loud in the sleepy hush of the house.

I grabbed an oven mitt and carefully pulled the cake out. It wasn't perfect—the edges a little lopsided, the top cracked slightly from where I'd opened the oven too soon but it was mine. 

Warm and real.

Without thinking, I sank onto the floor, setting the tray between my crossed legs. The stone was cold against my thighs, but the heat from the cake kept me cocooned in a little pocket of warmth.

I sat there, staring at it, feeling oddly proud and a little foolish when a soft sound at the doorway made me look up.

Azriel stood there, shadows clinging lazily around him, barefoot and rumpled from sleep. His eyes, those endless hazel eyes fixed on me, on the cake, on the tiny, ridiculous scene I'd created.

He didn't say anything. He just crossed the room and, without hesitation, folded himself down onto the floor beside me, mirroring my posture like we were kids again sneaking sweets before dinner.

For a moment, we just sat there. Breathing in the smell of chocolate and something else—something tender that neither of us dared name.

I broke first, tearing a jagged piece from the edge of the cake and popping it into my mouth. It was still too hot, but the rich sweetness melted instantly across my tongue.

Azriel watched, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I tore off another piece and, without thinking, offered it to him. He took it from me without hesitation, his fingers brushing mine, warm and calloused.

We ate like that for a while, wordless and easy, pulling pieces straight from the tray, laughing softly when the cake crumbled messily onto our clothes.

"This feels familiar," I said after a while, licking melted chocolate from my thumb. My voice was soft, wrapped in the sleepy haze of the hour.

Azriel gave a quiet, almost shy huff of laughter. "At first you used to burn everything," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Cass would pretend it was the best food ever. Rhys would just..." He shook his head fondly. "Eat it out of guilt."

"And you?" I asked, nudging him with my knee.

Azriel's smile dimmed slightly, his eyes growing distant for half a heartbeat. "I ate it because you made it," he said simply.

The words punched a soft hole through my heart and silence settled between us again, warm and fragile.

After a minute, Azriel's voice broke it, quieter now more hesitant. "I missed this."

There was a vulnerability in it that made me ache. As if he expected the confession to fall into the emptiness between us, unanswered.

But I turned my head, resting my temple lightly against his shoulder, and said just as softly, "I missed it too." 

It felt natural, instinctive, the way it used to be, before everything had gotten so complicated.

I felt his breath hitch. Just slightly.

And then, slowly, he relaxed against me. His head tilted, resting against mine, the two of us folded into each other like a secret the night was kind enough to keep.

Neither of us spoke. We didn't need to.

The kitchen glowed around us, a little island of warmth against the sleeping house.

We sat there on the floor until the cake was half gone and our eyelids began to droop, the stars outside blinking sleepily down at us. 

One of his wings was half-furled around us both, not fully spread but enough to cocoon us in a little pocket of soft, shadowed warmth.

The kitchen was quiet, the air still faintly rich with the scent of chocolate.

It was the creak of a floorboard that stirred the silence the next morning.

Cassian stood in the doorway, blinking blearily into the dim, early morning light. His hair was wild, sticking up in every direction, and he was wearing only a loose pair of pants, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand.

He froze when he saw us.

For a moment, he just stood there, his hand falling away slowly as he took in the sight—me curled against Azriel's side, Azriel's head resting against mine, the remnants of a midnight cake feast between us.

Cassian's mouth twitched. Not into one of his usual grins. No teasing smirk or obnoxious comment about being caught.

Just a soft, quiet smile. A knowing kind of fondness flickering across his face.

He watched us for a second longer, something almost wistful passing through his eyes, then, with a care I didn't know he possessed at that hour, he stepped back.

He eased out of the kitchen without a sound, the door swinging lightly closed behind him. Leaving us exactly as we were.

Undisturbed.

Together.

A/n - Yes Cassian is offering his two cents but at least this time he’s knocking some much-needed sense into reader x

She is finallyyyy letting Az back in, even if it’s just a little. The cake bit is lowkey the beginning of her actually reciprocating his feelings :)

Also... falling asleep together with his wing half-wrapped around her so so cute <33

I’m sad that this is wrapping up soon. I’m lowkey not ready to say goodbye :(

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this part, please let me know your thoughts—I love hearing from you all!

Little Star tag list - @jaybbygrl @writtenbypavani @fall-winter-heart97 @coeurdeveea @lilg101010 @krazykangaroo712 @moonlitlavenders @lil-lupa @jasmineee05 @pinksnowtiger @yourdarkrose @nerdybee123 @bookwormysblog @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @suspicious-stain-in-spain @anainkandpaper @theflowerswillbloom @queenoffeysand @historygeekqueen @lexi-in-wonderland @tele86 @saamanthaag3 @whydohumansss @xlosttdreamss @bookishwondersworld @plants-w0rld @i-am-infinite @ly--canthrope @lreadsstuff @urfunnyvalentin3 @dnfhascorruptedme @lovejbaby

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[knightyoomyoui]

Before You Go

ft. NMIXX's Bae Jinsol (x Male Reader)

TYPE: Fluff, Smut, Angst

WORD COUNT: 4044

NOTE: First fic for this month of May!

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

TAGS: farewell sex, multiple positions, tomboy, tsundere, first-time sex, passionate lovemaking

DESCRIPTION: YN gathers the courage to confess his long-hidden feelings to Bae, a sharp-tongued, distant classmate whose cold front has masked something deeper.

=== START === The late afternoon sun poured golden light into the classroom, painting the old wooden desks and faded blackboard in honey tones. A soft breeze carried the scent of sakura petals through the open windows.

Your heart pounded as you stood near the front of the room, one hand nervously ruffling your dark hair.

“Hey, everyone,” you said with voice tight.

Your classmates looked up from their chatter. Conversations stalled; laughter faded. Twenty sets of curious eyes settled on you.

“I… I’ve got something to tell you,” You continued, forcing a smile. “My family's gonna take me. To the States. And... I'll be studying there starting next week.”

For a second, the room was dead quiet. Then—

“What?!” “No way!” “Dude, seriously?!”

Shock rippled through the room. You laughed softly, the sound slightly hollow.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s been decided for a while. I didn’t know how to tell you all.”

A flood of voices followed.

“Man, we’re gonna miss you.” “Ayo, promise you’ll keep in touch!”

 “Who’s going to carry the soccer team now?!”

They swarmed him, clapping his back, pulling him into hugs, already begging for photos and contact info. You smiled through it all, a strange knot tightening in his chest. He didn’t realize leaving would feel like this.

But his eyes kept drifting toward the corner of the room — to Bae.

She stood leaning against the wall, arms folded, her chestnut hair catching the sunlight. Her expression was unreadable, lips set in a line. As the others surrounded You, she turned slightly away.

“Hmph,” she muttered, loud enough for you to hear. “Good riddance.”

Your lips twitched. Typical Bae, you thought.

They’d danced this dance for years — her sharp tongue, his easygoing smiles, a pattern neither dared break. But under her scolding and eye-rolls, you had seen something fragile, something unspoken. And now, time was running out. That night, you sat cross-legged on your bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering over her contact.

You stared at the blinking cursor in the chat box.

Your finger hovered.

Then, in a burst of breath, you typed:

Hey… can you come over tonight? There’s something I want to tell you before I leave.

You hit send before you could chicken out.

Bae lay on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, phone on her stomach. The message lit up her screen, sending her heart into a wild sprint.

She sat up abruptly.

“Tch… this idiot really had to disturb me in the middle of the night,” she whispered under her breath, cheeks flushing. She glanced at the mirror, frowned at her reflection, ran a hand through her hair.

Why was she even hesitating?

With a frustrated growl, she snatched up her coat and stormed out of the house.

The living room was dim, the only light coming from the soft flicker of the TV. You sat at one end of the couch, elbows on your knees, fingers laced tightly. Bae perched stiffly at the other end, knees drawn close, arms wrapped tightly around herself. The air between them was thick with unspoken words.

“Thanks for coming,” You said quietly, his voice rough at the edges.

Bae gave a tiny shrug, staring hard at the floor. “Whatever. You said you had something to say, so… say it. Don’t you dare waste my time and effort going in here just for your silliness.”

You drew in a long breath, chest rising and falling, eyes flicking to her face — to the curve of her lashes, the stubborn set of her mouth, the faint flush in her cheeks.

“I’ve been watching you,” you murmured.

Bae’s brow shot up. “The hell? That’s creepy,” she snapped, though her voice trembled slightly.

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “No, sorry. I don’t mean like that. I mean… all this time. I noticed.”

She shifted, arms crossing even tighter over her chest. “Noticed what?”

“The way you always left a bottle of water by my desk after practice, pretending you ‘just had extra.’ The way you’d nag me about studying, pretending you didn’t care. The way you were always there at games, yelling at me to ‘try harder, idiot’ from the back of the crowd.”

Her cheeks flamed deep red. “W-well someone had to keep you from flunking or falling on your face.”

Your smile turned gentle, wistful. “You were always there for me, even when you were pretending not to be. And… I loved that about you. I wanted you to come here tonight, just us together, for you to hear it from me that… I love you, Bae.”

The words fell between them like a stone dropped into still water.

Bae’s breath hitched audibly. Her mouth opened, then closed again. Her fists clenched in her lap.

“Why… why now?” she whispered. Her voice cracked on the last word, and she shot to her feet, trembling. “You… you idiot!” She pounded a weak fist against your shoulder. “You can’t just say something like that and leave!”

Her fists hit your chest again, and again. “Why… why didn’t you say anything before?! Why didn’t I…?” Her voice broke into a quiet sob.

You gently caught her wrists, pulling her toward him. Your arms closed around her, uncertain at first, then tightening as she sagged against you, burying her face in your shoulder.

For a moment, neither spoke. Then Bae’s voice came, muffled, raw.

“I hated you,” she whispered. “I hated you so much, YN.”

You froze — but her fingers fisted in the fabric of your shirt.

“I hated you for making me feel this way. From the beginning, you’ve always saw me different and you got me on that. For always smiling at me like I was just your annoying classmate. For not noticing how hard it was for me to pretend I didn’t care.” She hiccupped softly, shoulders shaking. “I hated knowing you were leaving and the fear of the thought that I’d never—never get to tell you that I…” Her voice cracked again.

Your hand slid up, fingers tangling gently in her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, fierce and trembling. “I love you, you idiot. I’ve always loved you. And I was too scared to say it, but now I had to because… realizing that I may never be able to let you know because you’ll be gone would bring me down.”

You pressed your forehead to hers, breath shuddering.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I just wanted… I just wanted one real moment with you before I go.”

Bae pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her face tear-streaked and flushed, eyes shining with everything she’d held back for years.

“Then take it,” she whispered. Her lips curved in a broken, brave smile. “Take it, idiot.”

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Afterwards, you cupped her face in both hands and kissed her — soft, hesitant at first, then deeper as Bae’s fingers curled around your collar, pulling him closer. She rose on tiptoes, and you bent to meet her, the kiss messy and tear-salted and achingly tender.

Their laughter was shaky when they parted, their foreheads resting together.

“I was so scared you’d never know,” You whispered.

“I was so scared you’d leave without looking back,” Bae breathed.

“We have a lot of time tonight. This is what I wanted. Just you and I alone. One last time.”

“Might as well savor the moment.” Bae hooked the hem of your shirt and lift it up to undress you. “What are you waiting for, slowpoke? Go and grab your chance, I’m not stopping you anymore, so you better give me whatever you got..”

You pinned Bae to the wall, brushed off her hair aside to expose her collar. You began peppering kisses and sucks all over the hollow of her alluring skin.

Bae gasped and closes her eyes as she felt your warm mouth breathing and marking her body as your prized possession. She bit her lip while gripping your hair as she dragged you along to her sexy jawline to have its own attention as well.

Just like what she did, you disposed her oversized t-shirt away to reveal her appetizing upper body with her red bra being a distraction. You continued turning her on first as you attacked her shoulders and chest while Bae starts to moan with the feeling of your knee rubbing her center and your hand squishing her ass on her shorts.

Bae whimpered and huffed, the tight pressure of your lips sucking her white skin enough to form hickeys. You admired your creation before staring at Bae hypnotized with lust to your effect. 

She looks so hot in this state you’re witnessing of her at the moment.. Your classmates and other students that found her popular definitely have no idea that this supposed to be smug,intimidating, tough tomboy putting everybody on notice with her presence secretly vanishes only when it comes to her falling from your trap that urges her to yield from your temptation.

You kissed her again feverishly on the lips. Letting go, you grabbed her hand and took her onto your bedroom. Kicking the door close, you pushed Bae to the bed and pounced on her to repeat where both of you left off.

Both switched positions from being top to bottom in an intense liplock, with Bae victorious as she got you stiffened with her grinding on your crotch. She caressed your torso before going to unclasp her bra off.

Her small perky breasts greeted you. Neverminding the support you’ve been giving by grabbing her waist as she stimulates you, you sat up, adjusted her on your lap and sucked her tits that had her throwing her head aback.

She growled and mewled with your tongue action, nipping on her tits and running your hands on her back. Bae locked you around her body, now wrapping her legs behind you to make sure she ain’t gonna let you stop pleasuring her body further.

“Ahh yes~ fuck mmh there, YN. Keep doing that.” Bae said as you glisten her tits with your spit before doing few more sip on her nipples. You returned to her face and rewarded her again with a short burning kiss before Bae left your lap.

“Let’s make things interesting now.” Bae pulled your sweatpants down, your now 6-inches hardened cock in full view just resting on your thighs. “Shit, you definitely are the most undeserving loser I’ve ever messed with.” Bae said as her eyes widened at its erect form.

“I don’t mind it though. With you, I always feel like I’m winning instead.’ You shrugged. “How about you?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” She reached for your length and licked her lips. “Those pathetic punks couldn’t match you at al. My gut feeling has always been right when it comes on me meeting people.”

“And you…” She starts stroking your cock which had you gritting your teeth. Bae smirked at your reaction. “Just happen to be my proudest guess. You’re very interesting, YN… and now that I see more of you, I couldn’t wait anymore to explore them tonight.” 

She licked your bulbous head, creating a tingling feeling through your legs. “Shall I start… by sucking your cock, darling?”

“Oh please do so, you’re killing me with your teases already, Bae.” 

“Okay then. From now on, I could only allow this dick of yours to ruin me and turn who I am into something nobody has ever seen at all.” She dragged her tongue across your shaft. “And you don’t know how you make me so happy right now that you get to be the only witness of it, while I can have this all by myself.”

Bae finally puts your cock in her mouth, had you groaning in pleasure with how well she orally services you. She focused on training herself to match your pelvis as she deepens her blowjob on your thick cock, and when she did, she showed that begging eyes at you that she wants you to make her take it more. 

As she pulls back, she grabs your hand and put it on her head. You grabbed a bundle of her hair and starts guiding her while she bobbed below at your crotch. “Mmh fuck yeah that’s how I like it. Take me deeper, I’ll endure it.” The feeling of arousal keeps on building up, and so you joined through it as you buckled your hips repeatedly now on Bae’s lewd face.

Gagging and wet choking are the only noise that can be heard in the room. “Shit, Bae I’m about to release it all.” You said as you kept fucking her face.

“Cover me with your cum. Do it. It want it all.” Bae said as she slids off your cock on her mouth and now pumping her fist aggressively on it.

The tense underneath your abdomen has given up, it reached its breaking point to prepare your load to burst it straight into her awaiting features.

And, the vision becomes blurry and white. Lots of thick salty cum fired across Bae’s face, landing at her nose, nose, forehead and to others. She sighed in satisfaction as she felt her skin carrying a weight of gooey substance that boosts her arousal.

“Damn, Bae you had it a lot.” You said as you glanced at her messy face. She tried removing some on her eyelids and scooped some on her cheek to taste it. “Well it because you gave me a huge delicious load that I was expecting to have. All this shit for me only.”

She rose from her feet and removed her shorts including her undies to finally join you being stark naked. “I’ve had enough waiting.. Use your cock to show me what I’ve been missing all this time of not being able to find a guy like you.”

“Will do. But, wait. I’ll get some condoms first.” You were about to leave when Bae prevented you. “No need. Well, I appreciate how ready and understanding you are but… I want you raw, YN. I’m safe today, and I meant it when I say I want you to truly bring it all.” Bae didn’t let you response any further as she invited you again for a kiss as she grabs your cock for additional arousal.

You and Bae spent the next three hours going frenzy on the bed being your own personal playground of fulfillment  and even around  the room. Bae was pulled to your embrace and crashed onto your bed’s soft surface. Being on top of her, you started off the midnight sex with your crush with a passionate missionary while you stared deep at her, foreheads touching at one another as her body rocked with the force of your thrusts.

Bae was bent to the edge of the bed, screaming in impression at the increasing pace of your cock pounding her ass behind in a doggystyle manner. You wrapped her body into your arms, laying your body on her back to take her deeper.

She then went on bouncing crazily on your lap, hammering this tomboy’s pussy while doing it in a standing position, squatting your leg for a perfect stance while Bae was colliding at your cock as she is locked around your waist. She is being handled by your hands gripping her slim shoulders.

Then, you and Bae went back at the bed to rest your numbing legs from the pressure and the endurance of carrying her weight from that challenging position. She had to watch herself in the reflection from your mirror slowly riding your cock stuffed on her pussy while expressing lewd reactions at your hands going active around her tits and your lips slithering kisses all over her nape.

Lastly, Bae couldn’t contain her curses and compliments at the great fucking you’re giving to her as you took her to something both of you thought would be impossible to execute. Thanks to her height, figure and the size of your package, you easily rolled her back to the bed and make her lay on top of you.

Spreading her legs from behind, you took your cock and led it back to her gaped pussy, slowly inserting it until both became comfortable. After that, you bent your knees to lift your lower back a bit for a better unleashing of force you have to give on fucking her.

Arms spun around your head, Bae prepares herself as you started hammering on her while she was left sprawling atop of you. You gnaw on her neck that left her moaning through her muttered curses and broken words until you made her jaw drop and chest heaving heavily as both her juices and your cum on the condom spurted. 

That night, under the warm glow of your bedside lamp, they crossed the fragile line they’d danced around for years. There were awkward smiles for assurances, trembling bodies in stimulation, hurried kisses softening into slow, lingering ones before picking up the pace of desire and the fright of longing they’re about to carry for themselves

Every touch was clumsy due to the first-time experience but nonetheless, they’re still full of desperate tenderness, a quiet language of everything they’d never been able to say.

For one night, they were no longer classmates caught in a game of push and pull.

For one night, they were simply you and Bae — two hearts too full, too late.

The first pale light of dawn crept through the curtains, casting soft gold across the tangled sheets.

Bae stirred, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as her fingers brushed over warm skin. For a heartbeat, the world was quiet — only the sound of his steady breathing beside her. She nuzzled closer, burying her face against your bare shoulder, eyes still heavy with sleep.

Then, slowly, memory returned.

Her eyes fluttered open.

The clock on the bedside table read 6:12 a.m.

Her chest tightened.

You shifted beside her, a soft, sleepy groan rumbling from his throat. Your arm, heavy and warm, tightened instinctively around her waist. For a moment, it was almost easy to pretend they had all the time in the world.

But Bae felt it — the creeping edge of goodbye curling around the edges of dawn.

She lay still, eyes fixed on the faint lines of light cutting across the ceiling, her fingers resting lightly on You’s chest. His heartbeat was slow, steady beneath her palm.

“Bae…” your voice came, low and rough with sleep.

She swallowed hard.

“Mm?” she managed. “Sun is up.”

She gave a broken laugh, so soft it was nearly a sob.  “I don’t… want to move.”

Your fingers brushed through her hair, lazy and tender. “Okay.”

But they both knew.

You buried your face in her hair, inhaling deeply, as if you could memorize her scent, carry it with you wherever you go. Your arms tightened once, fiercely — then slowly loosened, like even your body understood what your heart refused to. Bae’s lips trembled. She tucked her face into your shoulder, voice muffled. “You dumbass…” “I should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice thick. “I should’ve said it a hundred times by now.”

“II—I’m sorry, YN.” “I was so stupid.,” she whispered, her voice tight, trembling. “All this time… I pushed you away. Teased you. Pretended I didn’t care.” Her fingers curled into fists. “I was scared, okay? Scared of what you meant to me and what you may see about me..” You shifted, rolling to face her fully, one hand cradling her cheek. Your eyes glistening, lips parting to speak — but Bae kept going, voice cracking. “I hated watching you be so kind to everyone nd they’re the same as you. I-I mean I showed some kindness in you but it seemed not as pure as them, like as if I’m just doing it forcefully. Like an act, but no… I care for you more than they can ever be. And now, I hate it even more that you were leaving, I feel like I ran out of time. Hate it that I was too much of a coward to tell you… everything.”

“I was scared too, you’re not alone.” you whispered. “Scared you’d laugh and bully me because I’m just simply pathetic, scared I’d make things worse between us. So I just try to smile it off while it gives me a hard time containing how heavy I’ve been feeling for you. I kept on waiting too much to realize that…” your throat bobbed in a tight swallow. “I wasted so much time.” You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “I love you, Bae.” She let out a soft, broken laugh, lifting her gaze at last. Her eyes shimmered, rimmed in red. “You’re an idiot. Well, I mean we. We’re two absolute idiots.” she whispered. “I love you too.”

You kissed her softly, a trembling press of lips. “Yeah,” you murmured against her mouth. “But we’re idiots who love each other.” They lay there, foreheads touching, the silence thick with everything they’d hidden for years — and everything they wished they’d been brave enough to say sooner. Their hands clung tightly in the space between them — fingers trembling, desperate to hold on a moment longer.

Then the clock ticked past 6:30.

“Your flight,” Bae whispered. Her voice cracked. “You’ll miss it.”

You’s fingers traced her jaw, memorizing the shape of her face. “I know.”

She opened her eyes slowly, wet and shining. “Say it again,” she whispered. “Let me hear you love me.”

You pressed your forehead to hers. “I love you,” he breathed. “I love you, Bae.”

Her fingers curled into your hair and smiled bitterly.. “I love you too, idiot.”

Their last kiss was messy, wet with tears, as if they could pour every unspoken word into it. When they parted, Bae stayed frozen in the bed, watching you get dressed, her chest squeezing tighter with every button he fastened. You ordered your butler to drive Bae first before they head onto the airport. At the door, you hesitated, your hand on the frame, eyes fixed on her as if trying to burn the image into memory. She could only give him a frown before forcing herself to smile.

They reached her house. As the door opens and Bae was properly dropped off, she crushes you with one last tight hug. “I’ll keep on connected,” you promised softly.

She forced a smile, lips trembling. “You better. Or else I’m blocking you forever and you’ll never see me again” “I won’t let that happen.” He chuckled. His thumbs brushed on her wet, sulking cheek. “I’ll still return and look out for you.”

Her breath hitched, lips brushing his in a kiss that was salty with tears, messy and aching.

When they parted, they stayed close, eyes shut, foreheads resting together. Then their eyes locked for one last fragile moment. “Promise me you’ll be okay,” she whispered.

You exhaled shakily, your free hand brushing her cheek. “Promise me you won’t pretend you’re fine.”

She laughed again, soft and bitter. “Yeah yeah yeah… okay.” You returned to the car and waved your hand at Bae. “Be safe and keep on becoming a better woman for me, and I’ll be there to see it for myself someday. Goodbye, Bae.” “Become successful out there, YN. I know you can do it.” Bae grinned. “I’ll wait for the day when we can share our stories again.” And then Bae turned, walking up the steps, her figure framed in the soft dawn light.

You watched until she slipped inside, the door closing behind her with a soft click. It echoed through your chest like a crack.

For a long moment, you sat frozen in the driver’s seat, your hands still curled where hers had been.

Then, with a shaky inhale, you commanded your driver to start the engine back to life.

As the car pulled away, from behind the window; Bae stood with her forehead pressed to the glass, eyes wet, watching you disappear down the street — wrapped in the ache of everything they’d finally confessed, and the quiet heartbreak of everything they perhaps, were too late to change.

=== END ===

[insidekatmind]

Christmas in New York- Jobe Bellingham

wearning: +18,smut

It was a cold Christmas Eve in New York. The snow slowly fell from the grey sky, covering the streets with a soft white mantle. The colorful and glittering lights adorned every window, and the air was permeated by the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate.

You and Jobe Bellingham walked hand in hand down Fifth Avenue, wrapped up in your heavy coats. He wore an elegant black coat with a grey scarf framing his face, while you were wrapped in a beige coat with a soft wool hat covering your ears. Jobe turned to look at you with a sweet and mischievous smile.

"I can’t believe we’re here together," he said, shaking your hand and approaching you. "New York at Christmas is just like in the movies."

"Yeah," you replied, leaning your head on his shoulder as you kept walking. "But it wouldn’t be the same without you."

He stopped suddenly, holding you by the hand and turning you towards him. His warm hands laid on your cold cheeks.

"Don’t even joke," he muttered, staring at you with his dark eyes full of sweetness. "This Christmas is special only because you are there."

You felt yourself melt like snow under the sun. His words were sincere, and the warmth of his gaze made you forget the bitter cold.

"You’re too sweet, Bellingham," you said, your cheeks turning red, perhaps from the cold or perhaps from the fast-paced beat of your heart.

"And you are too beautiful to be true," he replied, bending over to rub his lips against your. The kiss was slow and gentle, but at the same time full of feeling. The noise of the city around you seemed to disappear for a moment.

"Shall we go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center?" you proposed with a smile when you parted. His lips curled into a complicit smile.

"Only if we can take a picture like those sappy tourists kissing under the tree," joked Jobe, but there was a shadow of sincerity in his voice.

"Deal done," you laughed, and together you headed to the Rockefeller Center.

The crowd was huge, all with their eyes up to the imposing Christmas tree illuminated by thousands of colorful lights. You let yourself be enchanted by the show, shaking Jobe’s hand more strongly.

"It’s beautiful," you whisper, your eyes shining with wonder.

"Not as much as you," he replied, looking at you instead of the tree. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and when you turned towards him, Jobe stared at you with an intensity that left you speechless.

"Let’s stop with the compliments, Bellingham, or I might start to believe it," you tried to joke around to hide your embarrassment, but he shook his head, a clever smile painted on his face.

"Do it. Believe it. Because every word is true." His hands again placed themselves on your cheeks, touching them with their thumbs. "May I kiss you again?" He asked with a sweet expression, but his eyes revealed something deeper.

"Why do you ask again? You have my permanent permission," you whispered, and he chuckled before bending down and kissing you again, this time with more passion. His arms wrapped around you, clinging to his warm chest.

People around you applauded and laughed, but neither of them noticed. You only came off when the breath was short, and Jobe looked at you with a satisfied smile.

"Now we look like those sappy tourists," he said laughing.

"And it’s beautiful," you replied, leaning your head against his chest.

Later that night, you returned to your hotel. The room was warm and welcoming, with a small decorated Christmas tree by the window. Jobe closed the door behind him and stared at you with a look that made you shiver.

"You know what?" he said, slowly approaching. "I think this is the best Christmas of my life."

"Why?" you asked, stepping back, but smiling.

"Because I have everything I want right here in front of me." He took another step forward, until your back touched the edge of the bed. His hands laid on your hips, holding you with a gentle but firm grip. "And I don’t want to lose a second without you."

You felt your heart beat in your chest, and his lips found yours with a sweetish overwhelming. His hands moved slowly along your hips, his fingers drawing imaginary lines on the soft fabric of your dress. You felt every touch like a spark of heat.

"Jobe," you murmured against his lips, but he did not let you finish.

"Yes, love?" he replied in a low, husky voice, kissing your jaw and then your neck, where he knew you were most sensitive.

"Promise me one thing," I said, breathing hard.

"Anything," he answered without hesitation.

"Promise me that every Christmas will be like this," you said, looking for his eyes with yours.

"No, love," he said with a smile that made you miss a heartbeat. "Every Christmas will be even more beautiful."

You smiled and kissed him, and he immediately returned the favor. " I love you doll" said Jobe near your lips and you smiled giving him a kiss to the mold. "I love too"

His dark eyes twinkled as his hands drew you closer, as if he could not bear even a centimeter of distance between you. His lips returned to seek yours, this time with a passion that made you tremble. There was nothing more delicate: the kiss became intense, deep, full of desire. His hands, first resting on your hips, moved with exasperating slowness, tracing the curve of your back, while your fingers intertwined between his hair, drawing him even closer.

The room seemed to fade around you. There was no more city noise or Christmas lights reflecting off the walls. There was only him, the warmth of his body against yours, and the way his lips seemed to explore you with an unstoppable hunger. He kissed you as if he were the first and last time, with an intensity that left you breathless.

His fingers stopped on the edge of your dress, barely touching your skin, and that simple touch made you shudder. You felt his lips detach from yours only for a moment, just the time to look at you with a look that spoke more than a thousand words. "You’re so beautiful," he muttered in a husky voice, his breath irregular as his thumb drew a gentle line on your cheek.

"Jobe..." his name slipped away as a whisper, while he smiled, that smile you knew so well, full of sweetness and desire. He didn’t wait for you to continue: he bent down again, capturing your lips with such intensity that you felt your heart beat wildly. His hands, now more secure, lifted you slightly, making you slide on the bed as his body followed yours perfectly synchronised.

The fabric of his sweater was rough under your hands as you pulled it closer, your bodies seeming to find a way to match perfectly. His kisses fell down your jaw, to your neck, where his lips lingered, leaving you breathless. Each kiss was like a promise, a secret shared between you two.

"I don’t want to stop," he whispered against your skin, his voice low and charged with emotion. His warm breath caressed you, and his words made you smile as you looked at him with eyes full of confidence and desire.

"Don’t stop," you replied, pulling him back towards you, ready to live every second of that moment that seemed only made of magic and warmth.

Jobe looked at you with a new light in his eyes, as if all the control he had tried to maintain until then had vanished. His breath was warm and irregular, his pupils dilated as his eyes fixated in yours. He didn’t say a word, but the way his hands slowly fell down your hips was enough to make you understand what was about to happen.

He leaned towards you, his lips brushed your neck with exasperating delicacy, almost as if he was savoring every inch of skin. Then, without warning, he began to kiss you with more force, more passion. Each kiss was a mix of sweetness and desire. His lips moved firmly against your skin, leaving a trail of heat behind.

His warm breath stopped right at the groove between the neck and shoulder, and at that instant his teeth touched your skin. You were out of breath for a moment, fingers instinctively sank into his chest, feeling the strong and constant beat under the palm of your hand. Your nails drew a slow line along the fabric of his mesh, following the contours of his muscles.

"Jobe..." his name escaped you like a whisper, more like a prayer than a simple call. He just lifted his face, looking at you with a look that sent a jolt down your back.

"Say my name again," he murmured, his voice so low and stinging that it gave you the shivers. Before I could even answer, he attacked your jaw again with slower but incredibly intense kisses. Every time his lips closed on your skin, he left a small pink sign that darkened slowly, unmistakable proof of his presence on you.

"Jobe," you repeated with a whisper, closing your eyes as his lips stopped under your ear, where your breath was faster. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your fingertips drawing slow circles on his chest. You could feel every muscle under the tissue, the solidity of his body against yours.

"So, my love," he muttered, never taking his lips off your skin. "I want to hear it again." His voice was low, full of sweet authority that made you shiver down your back.

His hands slid to your back, pressing you further into him, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Every touch he made was slow but firm, and every kiss on your neck brought with it a jolt of heat. You felt light-headed, like the whole world was a blur except him.

“Jobe…” you whispered again, and the way he groaned against your skin made your legs feel weak.

"I like it when you say my name like that," he confessed, his lips now resting on your shoulder, his teeth pressing lightly, leaving another sign that you knew would stay there for a while. "It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard."

Your heart was beating like crazy, and as your fingers kept stroking his chest, he lifted his face, his dark eyes that were looking for yours with a hunger that left you breathless. "I will not let you go tonight," he said, his voice that was a promise and a sweet threat at the same time.

"Who said I want to go?" you replied with a cheeky smile, letting your eyes gaze upon hers. He smiled slowly, looked down again at your lips and, without hesitation, caught them in a kiss so deep and passionate that the world ceased to exist for you.

Jobe smiled and then he started to strip you off, and you did the same thing with him. He smiled as you were naked under him. " So beautiful baby" he muttered and then kissed your belly and you made little sighs. You moaned and then felt his tongue in your pussy, making it squirt. At first he was mocking you around putting his tongue in and out and you were moaning wanting more.

You raised your hips for more friction and pulled his hair. " Jobe please" you muttered and he smiled and started making out with your pussy as if it was his favorite dessert.

Jobe started licking your pussy and eating it like a hungry man and this made you squirm with pleasure, you moaned his name as a prayer and he was fucking your pussy with his tongue so well that you couldn’t even feel your own pussy anymore.

"continue like this please" you screamed with pleasure and Jobe satisfied you. Your legs were shaking and about to close from too much pleasure. You could feel your high coming, Jobe squeezes your legs to keep them from closing and you keep moaning and screaming as you pulled his hair making him moan into your pussy and this sent the vibrations and made you rub your pussy on his face.

"Let’s go baby don’t close these beautiful legs, I’ve just started" whispered Jobe near your pussy and you cry with pleasure.

It was making you feel so good that you couldn’t even think anymore, you just thought about the pleasure you were feeling. Your eyes were rolling back as you opened your mouth moaning at his name, like a song. You pushed your hips more on his face and tightened his hair to bring it closer to your pussy.

"What a good girl" Jobe muttered as you cum in his face.

He leaves you a kiss on your pussy and then slowly moves away and looks at you and smiles at your face with such a fucked up expression.

You looked at him and moaned as he was hot with your cum on his face and tried to pull it to you to kiss him and he smiled back. When you broke off, you caressed his curls. " the best Christmas of my life" you whispered and he smiled, bringing his lips back to yours with a sweetness that contrasted the urgency of a few minutes before. It was a slow, deep kiss, as if he wanted to savour every moment. His hands went up your back, pressing against him, the heat of your bodies that did not seem to fade.

"I can’t get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, interrupting the kiss just to look into your eyes. His thumbs touched the sides of your face, his gentle and reassuring touch. "No matter how much he has you, it will never be enough."

Your heart lost a beat, his words that settled in your chest like a sweet melody. You looked at him, trying to hide the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips. "You’re a real romantic Jobe Bellingham" you said to him, leaning your forehead against his.

"Just for you," he replied with a half smile, pressing another sweet kiss on your nose, then one on your jaw, and finally back on your lips.

His fingers kept caressing your hips, and the way his thumb drew lazy lines on your skin made you feel a comfortable and familiar warmth. It made you feel safe. Every kiss, every caress, was like saying "you are mine" without needing words. And at that moment, you knew you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else enjoying Christmas.