#I HAD AN IDEA AND THEN I BLACKED OUT FOR AN HOUR

[hwallazia]

HOT TO GO – 김홍중

⋆ synopsis. during a xmas eve dinner with your family, your best friend disappears. concerned, you search the entire apartment complex, only to stumble upon him watching porn alone. unable to resist, you decide to tease him a bit about it.

pairing. best friend! kim hongjoong & fem! reader.

wc. 2,9k

warnings. smut (mdni!), F2L, soft dom! hongjoong, suggestive language, cussing, liquor consumption, getting caught obviously, teasing & flirting, porn watching (this whole thing is porn but wtv), auralism?, getting interrupted ughhh, hongjoong comes on reader’s face and tits, praise, dirty talk, nicknames (pretty boy, pretty, attagirl & more), blowjob, implied cum eating but not explicitly written, an awful attempt at comedy in the end.

nic’s notes ⋆ second of the event & december’s already ending, i knoww (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i’ll finish the event in january i promise !! i really don’t like how this came out, but i couldn’t leave y’all without a christmas gift! merry xmas, loves <3

living room, dining room, bathroom, backyard, even inside the fucking oven. you had searched everywhere for hongjoong, and yet he’s nowhere to be found.

just an hour ago, you were enjoying some drinks with him, the strong alcohol of the tequila burned your throat deliciously, and the surroundings only caused the liquor to impact you even harder. small bright lights provided dim and comfy lighting to the room for those who were under the influence already — which were probably your uncles, who actually were spending a lovely time playing some drinking games. your mother and her sisters were chatting pleasingly near the kitchen aisle, your aunt looking for a new bottle of red wine only meant that the conversation was going to last longer than what anyone could predict, whereas your grandma was nowhere to be seen — she probably headed to her bedroom to get some well-deserved sleep, your mother had already forced her enough to stay awake past midnight.

“so yeah, that’s pretty much it. never met up with that bitch again, she prolly moved to somewhere far from here since i never heard from her again either. or well, at least that’s what i’m manifesting.” you summarized, chuckling at the end before you chugged another sip of tequila. hongjoong stared at you intently, one brow up, as your throat bobbed up and down with one smooth gulp.

“you sure are going hard on that tequila,” he said whilst glancing at your drunken irises. the way you frowned your brows and cringed almost made him laugh. how cute.

“excuse me, you’re the one who hasn’t drank one sip.” you deadpanned, a low laugh escaping his lips unintentionally as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand; his body rocking forward, driven by habit. “c’mon, let’s get you a drink. a cocktail for starters.” you said without giving him a chance to defend himself, grabbing his forearm as you led him towards the kitchen, where an exasperating and almost unbelievable collection of bottles, full of any kind of liquid you could imagine. your mind was already scheming what to prepare for your dear best friend; some vodka mixed with any energetic drink that you could find in the fridge seemed like an excellent idea.

but you could never fathom what your dear friend’s mind was envisioning, nor what held his eyes so intently. while you walked him whenever you were taking him, your cute ass was swinging, side to side in a smooth motion that had him going nuts. actually, if you held a gun against his head and asked him if he had thought about anything else that night, he’d let you shoot him, because he could never fathom the thought of you finding out how much of a pervert he was. but it was true though, the way that black, tight, and short dress hugged your figure made him salivate all over himself like a dog, the nastiest one. your curves were to die for, and hongjoong would gladly prove it — just so you know. god, what wouldn’t he give for just one night with you—to hold those hips with his own palms.

but that’s his secret. so shush.

hongjoong just couldn’t handle the view anymore. he halted you when he sank his heels onto the wooden floor, and with a deep sigh, he crafted the best excuse he could muster. you gyrated your head and let go of him when he began speaking. oh here we go. “wait, i actually have to go to the bathroom.” you glared at him, not believing a single word that was coming out of his mouth. “it’s an emergency!” he yelped in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, quite amusing to hear.

“fine. i’ll just pretend that you actually wanna go to pee and that you’re not a pussy that can’t handle a round of drinks with me.” you scoffed in a teasing manner, an almost invisible smirk showing up on your lips as your hand positioned on your hip.

“i’ll take the blame.” he sentenced, putting relaxed hands in the air as if he was being accused of committing a crime — and to be honest, he was just about to commit one.

after that, he headed towards the bathroom, your eyes followed his figure as it disappeared into the large, bright lighted corridor. with a sigh and an unopened bottle of tequila in your hands, you made your way back to the kitchen, determined to join the endless conversation that was taking place in its aisle. you aunt jessica looked in your direction, and when her blue irises landed on the delicious tequila that you had with yourself, she couldn’t help but let out a squeak sharp enough to shatter glass, immediately inviting you to participate in their talk with a smile plastered on her face.

you had to do something while hongjoong was gone after all.

but an hour had passed, and the conversation had turned rather depressing, your maternal aunt’s marriage problems overshadowing the happy, joyful christmas vibes. you needed to find hongjoong; otherwise, this conversation would only fry more brain cells than it already had. you exhaled as you rose from your seat, a glass of red wine resting in the palm of your hand gracefully — or you also could call it the other reason why you’d wake up with a mind-scattering headache.

“excuse me, i’ll go upstairs real quick,” you announced to the six ladies that you had just chatted with.

“darling!” your mother stopped your movements. “where’s hongjoong? haven’t seen him in a while now.”

“i don’t know. i was wondering the same thing just now.” you paused briefly. “i’ll go find him.”

normally, you’d find him in the backyard, playing with your younger cousins — to be honest, he nailed the role of the cousin way better than you. but strangely, he wasn’t, which only led you to do what you’d normally call research because at this point, the man had either gone invisible or was aiming for the world record in the longest game of hide and seek. at least, ten minutes passed and he was still missing.

you dragged your feet towards the bathroom, the tiredness of being in a tight and rather short dress and high fucking heels with your best friend missing as a bonus started to hit you. as you made your way to the guest bathroom, you passed by your bedroom, but something odd happened to catch your attention. a weird light was coming out of your room and you were absolutely sure you had turned everything off and closed the door—you didn’t want any babies sleeping in your beloved bed, for god’s sake.

your feet move backward in a quite amusing motion, your body now standing in front of the semi-open wooden door. with a cocked brow, you peeked through the crack in the door and saw hongjoong’s figure laying on your bed; back facing the door. as the gorgeous, lovely, and very funny best friend that you are, the only idea that came to your mind was to surprise him. little did you know that he was the one who surprised you.

with slow, cautious steps you approached his lying body. you noticed he was watching something on his phone, the bright white light from the device illuminating his face, yet his shuddering pants were the thing that caught your eye.

and one or two steps were more than enough for your eyes to finally and fully take in the scene unfolding before you.

your best friend was jerking off while watching porn. in your own house, in your own bed, in front of your goddamn eyes. and fucking hell, you could clearly see his dick grazing your blankets in a slow, sluggish tempo.

now, in this situation you have two options: either get mad at him and yell at him for being a pervert and a lunatic, and never speak to him again for ruining everything up only because of being an idiot for doing that in such an inappropriate place and situation and day and just everything,

or

help him.

“well hey there.” you purred as you grazed the sides of his undone pants, his hand flew away from his hardened cock as well as his phone, which glided through thin air; a heavy and rough thud reverberated through the walls—a crack on its screen is guaranteed. wide open brown eyes stared at you, a pinkish, tender blush creeping up his cheekbones. “i was feeling kinda lonely out there, y’ know?”

your velvety tone tickled his spine, delicious goosebumps creeping up his limbs. “yn, w-what’re you doing here.” a breathless hongjoong spoke, trembling hands trying to put his dick back inside that wrinkled, damp, and surely uncomfortable fabric.

“that’s what i should be asking, don’t you think?” a little chuckle penetrated hongjoong’s mind, it took everything from him to not grab you by the arms and kiss the shit out of you. at this point, the poor man is delirious—thankfully, your soothing, reassuring hand calms his nerves down when you rested your palm over his. well, sort of. “heeeyy, already cutting the fun short? don’t tell you’re that much of a wet blanket.”

you got on your knees greedily before your hand glided over his dampened length, first rubbing his girth and then his cocktip smoothly. hongjoong hissed before cursing under his breath. “why’re you doing this.” he couldn’t help but ask, though it wasn’t as if he had any intention of stopping now. if you were going to start something, you’d better see it through. he adjusted his position, finally sitting properly whilst giving you enough space to do your work.

you chuckled as you glanced up at him, doe-eyes stabbing daggers into his heart, mind, and soul. “is it so bad that i don’t want you to go back there with a boner inside those pants?”

a low, growly fuck was shot into your eardrums when your thumb slid over his now leaking tip, trembling fingers almost digging holes into your sheets. “i could do it on my own—nguh” a gravelly moan sent shivers down your spine as soon as you swirled your tongue around the trail of precum his tip was spreading over his hard-on.

“y’ sure you could?” he couldn’t compete against your seductive voice and teasing touches. matter of fact, he couldn’t compete against you at all, not when you were so kind, sweet, sexy and just fucking stunning. the way this man was wrapped around your finger is fucking comical. with a deep sigh, he gave in to you.

“fuck no.”

“that’s what i thought.”

no other words needed to be said for you to swallow his whole length, his tip tickling the back of your throat. hongjoong’s head tilted back as he placed his right hand behind him for support, while the other rested gently on top of your head; fingers provided soothing massages to your scalp. you didn’t expect his moans to be so heavenly sweet, yet low and masculine, and they were impacting you in the most pleasant way; thighs started to rub together incessantly, in search of some friction, some relief.

“oh fuck thaaat’s it. you’re so sweet for doing this, so—ugh, fucking gorgeous.” dead eyes stared down at you, following your every movement, every gesture, every breath. his irises casted shadows over you, and a dark fire sparked within them.

and being totally honest, you were more than ready to lose yourself in them.

after some minutes of just pure sinful, wet sounds, your jaw was starting to hurt, causing you to get some of his girth out of your mouth unintentionally.

poor you, ‘cause hongjoong was already way too into it.

you felt how his palm applied light pressure down the crown of your head “oh c’mon pretty, you were doing so good before, what happened?” he cooed at you, a devilish expression ruling his eyes.

and did that smirk drive you over the edge. “i—“ his hand glided over your neck and pushed you all the way down, making you pathetically choke on his cock. tears filled your vision and soon began to stream down your cheeks, ruining your mascara—not that you were concerned about that, your red lipstick was all smudged anyway. spit dripped from the corner of your lips, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips with some hairs of his pubic zone.

what a view, hongjoong thought.

“attagirl.” he purred in a silky tone. all pain was gone in just a sec.

hongjoong could feel and hear everything. and when i say everything, i mean every fucking thing. the way your tongue danced over his tip, how it enveloped his length greedily and lapped at every bit of precum it could collect, or how you would whine when his cocktip hit that spot of your throat, how you’d gag around him and just how fucking sinful you sound and look with his dick in his mouth.

“you’re seriously gonna—ah be the death of me.” he heaved, that familiar coil was starting to form in his stomach and he was more than happy to give you every last drop of his load.

even though this may not be his ultimate fantasy, he’s more than content with what he’s receiving. he’d die happily when he gets to come inside you while in mating press. but let’s not get too excited.

“fuck—c’mon, joong. cum all over my face, i know you’re close.” you popped his cock out of your mouth so you could jerk it off properly, at a fast pace that had him seeing stars.

“god you’re—that gonna make me— shit!” he cussed as he jolted beneath you, under your control and intoxicating ministrations. with your poisonous irises and vicious manners, he came completely undone for you, because of you. tensed, muscly limbs and a deliciously arched back formed the scene that surely won’t leave your mind for the next two weeks. a satisfied moan of yours accompanied the melody of grunts that were escaping helplessly from his swollen lips—too reddened from biting them so harshly.

his hand replaced yours and began doing the same motion, but now angling his dripping tip towards you. “show me that pretty face and those pretty tits, cutie.”

what a pervert, you thought. and naturally, you wouldn’t have done so. but god, you were so fucking blissed out that you didn’t even think twice before popping your breasts out of that dark, fitted dress and presenting your face to him — totally surrendered to him like a slut.

the remaining white shots of cum spurted all over your face, a sinful string of that white essence connecting your lashes with your cheekbone, whilst a brief load of his seed painted your tits.

“fuck you’re kinky.” you deadpanned, giggling.

“guess you kinda have that effect on me,” he smirked, breathlessly. fuck, you want him to fuck you right now.

you smiled as you stood up just to push him onto the mattress, easily straddling his naked lap. “so, tell me.” dangerous grins were plastered on your faces. “why would ya be watching porn over here, behind my back…” your manicured nails traced scribbles on the exposed skin of his forearm, slowly shifting in an upward motion. “… when you have me.”

“well if i’m being honest, i had you,” he explained, confusion filling your mind. he chuckled at your tilted head and cocked eyebrow. “that specific pornstar has a similar voice to yours, and whenever she moaned…” his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips. “she just sounds exactly like how i dream of you moaning.”

and that pushed you over the edge.

you pressed your clothed crotch against his unintentionally, your instinct to seek friction overpowering your senses. his dark, low chuckle penetrated your mind. he straightened his back as he sat correctly and enveloped your torso with his strong arms. with one deep, endearing look into your irises, he whispered with a honey-dripping voice. “can i fuck you, yn?”

“thought you’d never ask.”

a harsh knock at the door made both of you jerk. “yn! i know you’re in here! come on, we gotta take some pictures with the family! get outta there, you got two minutes.” the high-pitched, squeaky voice of your mother sentenced as if she was the goddamn FBI or something.

with a profound exhale, you stared at each other. “well, i don’t know about you, but i personally don’t want to fuck with a time limit. it’s not like i’m able to make you finish in two minutes. i don’t even know if i can finish in two min—“ you grabbed his lips with your fingertips, shushing him immediately.

he glanced at you with puppy dog eyes. “would you shut up for once?” you giggled. “okay, pretty boy, we’ll get there. now, let me clean myself up and change into some new clothes so i can go take the damn pictures before my mom splits me open.”

you sighed, unlike hongjoong who smiled like a little kid. “i’d like to split you open.”

you chuckled as you threw the nearest pillow to him. a muffled awh was heard and your heart sank a bit, in the most tender way. that foolishly in love kind-of smile just could not leave your face. “shut up, you romeo.”

| masterlist

[hesperisms]

// Knight Shift

This is my submission for @nanamiscocksleeve Christmas Secret Santa Fic Exchange! I was tasked with writing for the wonderful @reilemon ! "Please don't squirm...you're making it very hard for me to be a gentleman..."

// summary: you get a little too drunk and make a fool of yourself at the bar, requiring Zayne to haul you out of there.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), fluff, second-hand embarrassment, pet names, early-mid relationship, THE IMPLICATION, toothache cuteness, husband as HECK

// a/n: when I saw this prompt go on the list I was so hopeful I'd get it and I'm so glad I did! I hope I did your idea justice <3 Happy Holidays

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

1:04 AM Zayne's phone screen beamed a soft blue glow back at him as he sat in his car in the darkened hospital carpark, brow furrowed as he skimmed through his notifications at the end of his shift.

A veritable forensic timeline of your night, his nimble finger scrolled through Moment post after Moment post documenting your Christmas party, smiling and shaking his head as he watched each captured tease of your night progressing. The Moment posts were very innocent at the beginning of the night and they made him smile to himself, you looking cute and bright-eyed in your new dress, twirling in your bedroom mirror to show him what you planned to wear. He felt a blush creep into his cheeks as he watched you, beaming happily and giggling with your colleagues at the bar.

Gradually however, the blush and the smile were replaced by a tight, protective, possessive feeling in his chest and a pit in his stomach as your drinks began to flow freely. The little brightly colored umbrellas from your cocktails were now starting to get stacked up in your messy updo like a crown of flowers, each video adding to your pile of paper adornments as the footage got blurrier and more concerning to him. Zayne had never been much of a drinker himself and you had pinched his cheeks as you rolled your eyes at him, insisting you could handle it when he asked you to be careful and pace yourself tonight, but the most recent Moment posts told a different story to your dismissals.

An hour ago, blurry new male faces appearing beside you and your friend that he didn't recognize as being colleagues of yours and they definitely weren't as drunk as you; twenty minutes ago a shaky POV of you cheer-screaming at the top of your lungs as your friend downed a double shot of something as they spurred her on. Thirty seconds ago a jumbled black screen mess of your phone clattering to the floor as you howled with laughter and someone tried to help you up, shoving another drink into your hand.

"This has gone on long enough; she's too drunk to be among strangers", Zayne thought to himself with a scowl as he started the car and began to navigate his way towards the location you'd tagged in your Moment posts. He dialed your number as he drove and after what felt like half a lifetime, you picked up the phone.

"ZAAAAAAAAAAAYNIE! ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYNIE!" you slurred at him excitedly as your glassy and unfocused eyes finally came into view on the facetime call. You were so much drunker than he expected you to be, so much so that he was half-questioning if something had been slipped into your drinks. "Zaynie I've been having SO. MUSH. FUN. with my new frenzzz here...what uhh...what were your namsh again?" you asked with a giggle as one of the unrecognized men muttered in the background and swiped at your phone when you turned it towards him.

Zayne forced a slight smile for you and spoke in a slow, even tone that hid his true feelings about the situation "I just finished my shift, I thought you might like me to come pick you up and we can finish the night with some dessert, hmmm?". With how happy you'd been to answer his call, he expected an enthusiastic yes, so when you pouted and whined that you were still having fun with your new friends, you weren't ready to leave yet, Zayne couldn't hide his icy scowl. "I'll be there in five minutes, Y/N, I'll carry you out of the bar if I have to." Zayne stated in a firm, no-nonsense tone.

Whether you hung up accidentally or deliberately didn't matter to Zayne, what mattered was you were alone and very drunk with strangers. His knuckles gripped the leather steering wheel tightly and he sped up a little, pushing the boundaries of how comfortable he felt speeding at this late hour. All he cared about was getting to you and getting you home safely.

Leaving his car a block away from the bar, Zayne jogged up to the doors, only to be stopped by the two large men guarding the entrance with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Too late for new entries, Sir" one of them said with a note of apology to his tone as he blocked Zayne from going further. Standing up on his tiptoes to peek over their shoulders, Zayne shook his head and began to make his case to them. "Sorry gents, I'm trying to collect someone. You might've seen her? Blue and white dress, about this tall, very drunk?". With timing so perfect only the cosmos could've coordinated it, you let out a loud squeal of laughter that carried through the open doorway, followed by a crash of what sounded like breaking glass. "Speak of the devil...May I?" Zayne winced in apology as the two bouncers looked at each other then back to him with a nod and stepped aside.

"Better you get her out quietly than we have to turf her out, Sir."

Nodding back with an apologetic tight smile, Zayne pat the shoulder of the bouncer in thanks as he passed, making a beeline for where your noise came from. When you had slipped and fallen off the barstool, your heel had snapped off your left shoe and you were drunkenly wobbling, trying and failing to understand why you had no balance.

Placing a hand gently on your shoulder so that you knew he was there, Zayne made his presence known. "Looks like I got here right on time, Y/n" he raised his voice above the cacophony of noise around you in the bar. On seeing your eyes light up in recognition, he dropped to one knee in front of you, beckoning for you to stick your foot out to him. Rewarding you with a slight smile as you complied, Zayne slid his hand delicately around your heel and began to unbuckle the strap on your shoe, slipping it off your foot. Repeating the process with your other foot, your bare feet now flat to the floor, you looked even smaller compared to his tall broad frame as he hooked his index finger into the straps of your shoes to hold onto them as he stood up, picking paper umbrellas out of your hair and letting them fall to the floor.

"Lets get you home," Zayne said to you softly, eyes scanning between the floor and your short dress, frowning at the broken glass you would risk navigating to the exit. "Hold these for me please," he instructed you, handing your heels back to you, before slipping his suit jacket off and wrapping it around your hips so that it draped down over the back of your legs to protect your modesty. You blinked at him in confusion before letting out a little squeal of surprise as he wrapped his strong arm around your thigh and picked you up over his shoulder, holding you tightly and securely in his arms. "Don't worry Y/n, I've got you, I won't drop you" he said confidently as he headed back past the bouncers at the front door.

"Zaaaaaaynie," you giggled tipsily. "You're carrying me like a princess, am I your princess?" You teased him as you clung to his neck tightly, your heels and your purse tapping into his strong shoulder blades rhythmically as he walked you back to his car. He paused mid-stride and pulled his head back to look you in the eyes, noting they weren't as glassy as they had been, but you were still far from sober. "My knight in shining armor," you giggled and buried your head in his shoulder. Zayne answered you with a low rumbling hum, your words stirring something in him that makes the tips of his ears flush red. He hoped you were still too drunk to notice and you seemed to be.

He delicately cradled your head to avoid you hitting it as he bundled you into his car passenger seat and he paused, stunned for a second when you suddenly reached up and stroked his hair gently, like you were petting a cat. "So soft..." you murmured sleepily. Zayne cleared his throat and pulled his head away hoping you wouldn't notice the flush deepening. "Feel free to sleep in the car on the way home, I'll wake you when we get there," he whispered to you as he leaned across you to lock in your seatbelt, but by the time he looked up to your face you were already out like a light, your breathing steady and peaceful, cuddling your shoes and your purse to your chest.

Zayne smiled down at you gently, brushing his thumb against your cheek tenderly and closed the car door as quietly as he could, trying not to disturb your slumber. Zayne drove carefully the whole way to your apartment, taking care not to accelerate or brake too suddenly and risk jarring you out of your sleep.

He needn't have worried, because you didn't stir when he opened the passenger side door or when he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt. "Princess Y/n," he whispered to you, a playful tone sneaking into his voice. "Wakey wakey your knight is trying to carry you in." Zayne smiled at you as your half-lidded eyes fluttered open sleepily and you struggled to focus. He chuckled and shook his head with an exasperated sigh as you held your hands out to him expectantly, but he still bundled you into his arms to carry you bridal-style up into your apartment complex without a word of complaint.

Zayne shifted you in his arms, putting you down for a second so that he could punch in your front door code. Missing the warmth of his strong arms and the steady beating of his heart lulling you, you snuggled in tightly against his chest, slipping your arms around his hips and pressing yourself flat up against him.

"Please don't squirm...you're making it very hard for me to be a gentleman..." Zayne blushed, reaching to stroke your hair. "Are you steady enough to stand on your own now?" He asked gently. You nodded up at him with a smile, before blushing with an embarrassed giggle as you almost tripped on your own feet trying to walk to your couch. "Wait there, I'll be back in a moment," Zayne instructed you as he shut the door behind you both and made his way to your bedroom and bathroom, moving through your apartment confidently like his own.

From your bedroom he collected a set of pyjama shorts and a shirt of his you had promised to wash but had instead kept to sleep in; he never asked you about it after the fact, liking the idea of it being wrapped around you at night when he couldn't be much more than it gathering dust in his closet. Detouring to your bathroom, he took your toothbrush, loading it up with toothpaste for you, your retainer, your pack of makeup remover wipes and a jar of eye mask patches.

"Your dress, while beautiful, smells like a brewery I'm afraid," Zayne chuckled, sitting down beside you on the couch with the pile of supplies he'd collected for you. He held his hands out to you and made a "come hither" motion with his fingers, encouraging you to scoot closer to him until your knees touched. "Give me your face, Princess Y/n," he said gently, holding your chin delicately with his right hand as he pulled makeup wipes out of the pack with his left and began to carefully wipe the grime of the night from your face.

You sat barefaced in front of him, eyes closed and sighing contentedly at his delicate attentions, your skin tingling from the makeup wipes. "Nope, I'm just resting my eyes," you murmured with a smile when he gently tapped the tip of your nose asking if you had fallen asleep on him. You stiffened for a second as the cool shock of aloe hit your undereye and you opened your eyes lazily to see Zayne placing the little masks carefully and brushing them smooth with his thumbs. Zayne took hold of your chin again, pressing your mouth open with his thumb and index finger, before holding out the toothbrush and popping it into your mouth.

As you brushed your teeth sleepily, enjoying the calm domesticity between you both, Zayne picked up the clothes and put them in your lap with your retainer on top. "Go rinse and change into those while I throw away these wipes and put your phone on charge," he instructed you, brushing your hair back away behind your ears before taking the rubbish into your kitchen to dispose of. You made your way to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. Slipping the clean shirt on over your head, you noticed it smelled like him again and you knew you'd worn it to bed often enough that it had lost his smell...you half-wondered if he hadn't rubbed it on himself a little to transfer some fresh cologne to it for you and the thought made you flush with giddy happiness.

Looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you spat and rinsed your toothpaste, you couldn't help but grin to yourself, feeling so spoiled by him. After you disposed of the eye masks and fitted your retainer, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Zayne was nowhere to be found. Wandering through the apartment, you softly called out for him and felt a wave of relief wash over you as you heard him respond from your bedroom. Wandering in, the sight that welcomed you made your heart beat faster; true to his word, Zayne had plugged your phone in on your bedside to charge and was now fluffing your pillows and quilt for you. "There you are," he said with a teasing tone. "I was starting to think you might've passed out on your Knight again."

Zayne held his hand out to you and helped guide you into the bed, bundling you in under the covers, tucking you in. You grabbed his hand, catching his eyes as you felt his breath catch at your unexpected touch. "Stay with me? Please?" you asked and he nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "As my Princess wishes," he responded, swallowing thickly. "Let me just get out of my suit and I'll stay the night with you". You watched Zayne's movements around the room with half-lidded eyes as he slipped his tie and belt off and draped his suit slacks over the back of your arm chair. His nimble fingers worked to undo his cufflinks and free himself from his button up shirt, which promptly followed his slacks onto the chair, the clink of his silver snowflake cufflinks hitting your jewelry dish on your chest of drawers ringing through the silence.

"That gaze of yours is going to bore a hole in me if you keep it up, Your Highness," Zayne teased, a tone of a smirk to his accusation and you blushed, pulling the quilt up over your head. You felt the quilt pulled back from you and internally pouted that Zayne had already slipped on some pjyama bottoms you had bought and left for him to use at your place. He slid himself into the bed beside you and pulled your back up tight against his broad warm chest, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug and planting one last kiss on your hair.

"Thank you for everything tonight Zaynie," you whispered. "Sometimes I feel like I don't des-"

"Shhh...." Zayne cut you off, his arms squeezing you tighter as he pressed his chin down on the top of your head. "I'm exactly where I want to be," he hummed to you. "If you really want to thank me for being your knight in shining armor, in the morning you can help me make us blueberry pancakes. For now though," Zayne punctuated his final thought by inhaling a deep breath of your hair. "Sleep, my Princess."

[jjkbambi]

the morning after luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! part two of is it new years yet because you do not get back together just cuz he has good dick OMG 🖕🖕🖕🖕😒 he also has a great personality and loves eating pussy

warnings: smut, kinda angsty, he’s manipulative but honestly he’s such a nice guy, you should really give him a second chance

^ not edited let’s alll just practice gratitude 🙏

seven days, thirteen hours, and nine minutes and thirty six seconds.

that’s how long it had been since luigi had seen you. not that he’d been counting, he was truly trying to be normal about the distance this time around.

he replays the morning after on a loop, searching for the slightest hint he’d done something wrong to no avail. as a matter of fact, your quiet body was beside him until deep into the afternoon, nothing but soft snores exchanged between the two of you. he wakes before you, kissing your forehead before taking his leave. his frat brothers whistle at him as he enters the wretchedly messy house, throwing him a water.

“happy new year, big guy,” one of them, hasan, greets. “did’ya spend your night thinking about new goals or scoring the same one?”

luigi rolls his eyes. “fuck off.”

another brother chimes in, bright-eyed. “when are we meeting her?”

“in your dreams.”

he had no intention of sharing you in any way; the thought of anyone else even looking at you irritated him. but starting the new year off by your side was far too great a fate to be stoic about. he grabs a plate of what’s left of their shitty communal breakfast (jar salsa from the night before, scrambled eggs, and two pieces of mostly burnt toast) and brings it into your room.

“y/n,” he calls out while entering. the door to the bathroom is now closed, and he sees your shadow shuffling around the room.

hesitant, the door creaks open. youre back in your black minidress, holding onto your heels. “hey, pretty.”

“hi,” you say tightly, the mistakes and soreness from the night before lingering in your mind. you’ve just wiped away the tears still streaked on your face, yet your ex-boyfriend hardly looks hungover.

“dressed up just for me?” he jokes, kissing your cheek. he offers you the plate of food but you shake your head.

“lacy’s waiting for me. i’ve got to go.”

“stay,” he says, his voice honey-sweet, like the boyfriend you knew months ago. it makes you feel sick, the familiarity of it all suffocating you. the room feels too small.

you push away from him. “i have to go.”

“baby,” he drops everything he’s holding to grab you again. “what’s wrong? is everything alright?”

he always blows your mind with his audacity. “no, everything’s not alright, luigi,” you spit back. “we shouldn’t have—none of that should’ve happened.”

“what do you mean?”

“luigi,” you sigh. “we’re over, alright? it’s done.”

“y/n—”

“i mean it,” you raise your voice so slightly, but still it breaks. “you cheated on me, then pulled all this shit, i can’t do it anymore.”

“you can’t do it anymore? are you serious?”

“yes!”

“you ignored me for weeks then showed up at my fucking party, dressed like that,” his voice was low, but angry. brows furrowed, he doesn’t lose his grip on you. it scares you. “you can’t tell me you weren’t bartering for my attention.”

“i wasn’t.”

his jaw sets. “then who’s?”

“oh my god. nobody’s!”

“don’t fucking lie to me—”

“lu, stop, seriously.” your voice trembles this time, and you both notice it. he drops your hand.

“i didnt mean to hurt you,” he says, soft at your upset. “i swear—i dont remember cheating on you. i’m not gonna mess up like that again, i promise.”

he leans in to kiss you, to seal the pledge with his gentle touch, but you pull back. “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean to hurt me—you did. you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.“

his big brown eyes bear into yours and he swears, “i can make it up to you.”

“luigi,” you hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until he brings his hands up to wipe your tears away. “i just don’t think this is a good idea, i’m sorry.”

“come on,” he says, frowning. “i love you. only you.” his lean-in to kiss you is successful this time. the kiss feels much better—softer—than last night’s. he’s gentle with his desperation, intent on making you stay. “‘m sorry, okay?” he says between kisses. “let me make it better.”

“no, luigi, we shouldn’t—”

“you’ve got to hear me out, y/n,” he takes your lips again. his hot kisses move down your neck—and it all feels so different this time around. even the air in the room feels lighter. his voice is against your ear when he swears, “i’ll be good to you, sweetheart, i promise.”

saying no to him is near impossible—it’s why you shut yourself off of him for weeks, avoiding places he frequented, deactivating your social media, ignoring his constant stream of messages and calls. now, he has you, and within minutes, you’re pressed against the wall again.

“feels good?” he teases, grinding his hard-on into your core. you melt underneath him, you can’t help it, he’s so warm.

“lu,” you whimper. you’re still sensitive from how selfishly he took you the night before, you can’t help but react to his touch so quickly. it felt so raw.

“wait—” he never does. his hands are on your hips again, moving your body against his.

“just let me take care of you,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck again. this time, he was sure to leave marks.

he keeps the dress on this time. he places you back onto the bed, and as you gather the courage to take him in again, he moves beneath you.

“knew i recognized these,” his voice hot against the fabric of your panties.

you told yourself the lacy black panties were just meant to match the dress, but it all seemed so intentional—the party crash, the kitchen drive-by, the fact that you were wearing his valentines day gift. whether this was a manifestation of your greatest fear or desire, you couldn’t tell.

he kisses your thighs, then runs his tongue against your core through the fabric of your panties before ceremoniously ripping them off. he kisses and sucks at your wetness. you tremble at the suddenness of his movement. his big nose is so prominent in your pussy, you can’t help but grind yourself against his perfect face and whine as he drinks you in.

“you’re such a fucking mess,” luigi says, smiling into your warmth. his unshaven stubble tickles your sensitive cunt, sending a tremor through you. “so wet, i’ve barely even touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” you whimper.

he grabs your ass, pulling you closer to his relentless mouth. it’s ridiculous how good he feels. he’s completely shameless in his endeavor to ruin you.

“look at me,” luigi orders, so you do. you look down to see him, finding that he’s already gotten to touching himself. his hard length at the edge of the bed, furiously red, as he strokes himself. “i think about you everyday,” he admits in between licking at your core. “i missed how this pretty pussy tasted. i missed having you like this. holding you down so you can’t squirm away. missed hearing you beg.”

you’re almost there, fidgeting underneath his hands. “luigi, please. it’s too much.”

“you’ve taken worse,” he growls into you.

he feels like he’s on fire. one hand moves up and down along his cock fervently, while the other lends itself to fingering your frothing pussy. you mewl at the sudden entry, back arching.

“luigi,” you whine. “please.”

“i’m trying to do a nice thing for you, y/n,” he hums, “but you want me to be selfish, hm? want me to take you?”

“yes,” you say, breathless.

“fuckin’ slut,” he grumbles, pulling himself away from your wet cunt. he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “what d’you want from me, huh?”

“want you.”

“course you do,” luigi says, surprising you with hard slaps against your sensitive clit. you cry out at the sensation, the unfamiliar storm of bliss and torment, and he chuckles darkly. “you fuckin’ belong to me.”

he grabs your chin and forces you into another kiss, your wetness now staining you both. he lifts your leg up and slides himself back into your wet warmth. “you’re dripping,” he praises as he pounds into you. the exhilarating pain sets your senses alight, you grip onto him tighter without even realizing. “all for me, yeah?”

“all for you.” you nod. this is not how you expected this conversation to go. you writhe at how big he is, how hard.

“you can take it,” he grunts. he’s not fast, this time—his thrusts are agonizingly slow and tortuously deep—just as you think it’s all entirely too much, one hand grips your clothed tit, the other lifts to cradle your chin, forcing your lips to part open. he spits into your mouth. “swallow,” he orders.

you do.

“good girl,” he places sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw, your neck, then goes to bite at your tits. “so fuckin’ pretty.”

“i thought about you too,” you admit sheepishly, out of your mind. he looks up at you, raises his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “i missed you.”

to your surprise, he scoffs. “fuckin’ bitch.” he suddenly loses the interest in being gentle with you, returning to your body rough and angry. his fingers massage against your clit, unraveling you. “you’re just as crazy as i am, you know that? running around town like you don’t belong to me. like you don’t touch yourself late at night thinking about this cock. wishing those fingers were half as good as mine, huh? fuckin’ idiot.”

“luigi,” you cry out. was this him being nice?

“be a good girl f’me,” he grunts. he feels you pulse around his cock and drives into you with even more force. “cum all over me, baby. have my fuckin’ kids.”

“luigi,” you mewl again, desperate for release.

“come on, pretty, show me how good it feels.”

his lips return to yours, hot wet and desperate, as he cums inside of you. you’re a complete mess—squirming and whimpering as you unravel onto his cock, he catches your moans with kisses and leaves you shaking underneath him.

“good girl,” he hums, kissing your forehead.

for a fleeting moment, the two of you are perfect. everything feels just right. he slips into the spot beside you, the disarray of tangled sheets forgotten as he pulls you into his warmth. you sink into the nape of his neck, and though there are no more words spoken, the air is thick with an undeniable love, quiet but all encompassing.

but when he stirs awake, reaching for you, all that lingers is the soft, fading smell of your spring perfume.

send requests ! <3

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Christmas Future - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 3031>

Cancelled.

That was the word in red that flittered after every single flight on the departures board at Gatwick airport. Your flight was cancelled and so was everyone else's. 

You probably should have guessed that this was going to happen, but the small part of you that was desperate to go home was being optimistic. Pulling out your phone, you shot a few texts to your family to tell them that, unless the blizzard magically blew over, there was no way in hell that you were getting home on time to be there for Christmas morning. Or Christmas at all. 

Everyone was resigned to the same fate, pulling their books and portable chargers out of their bags in preparation for the undoubtable hours that were to come. People were standing around, sitting on floors, crammed onto the seemingly endless yet dwindling seats.

You were standing too, still with your eyes glued to the screen as if it would change the words on the surface by sheer will. Turning your head, you saw the snowflakes dancing in the wind and battering the large windows of the airport, and you knew that your hopes were getting crushed.

You went to stand by the seats, waiting for someone to make the grave mistake of getting up to get a snack or go to the toilet. You knew it was going to be a while before someone caved and let their basic human rights override their need to have a seat, but you just stuffed your earphones into your ears and let the music take the time away.

After a few hours, your feet were starting to get sore, so you lowered yourself to the floor like a lot of other people around. It had cleared out slightly, since some people had just left to go and find a hotel for the night instead of sleeping on the floor of the airport. 

The idea had crossed your mind a few times, but you wanted the opportunity to be on the first flight going as soon as possible. Being home was worth having a sore back and exhaustion. 

You noticed how a few people had started talking to each other randomly, just for some way to pass the time. It was strange how they would have just ignored each other in passing, but were now getting to know one another.

While you were busy making up fake scenarios about the people you were seeing around, you failed to notice a pair of eyes watching you. He couldn't help but notice the disappointment on your face when all flights were cancelled until further notice and the tiredness in your expression when you slumped down on the floor. 

He wondered if you were like him, just trying to get home in time for Christmas. He saw has your head lolled back and your eyes started to flutter closed, and he spotted the slight wince in your expression as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. 

He felt bad. He had been sat there for hours, and he was pretty settled. And there you were, a young lady being forced to sit on the floor. The chivalrous side of him was telling him to give up the seat for you, but the self-preservation was also telling him to stay in his seat and not be so generous to strangers. 

But, he eventually gave in. Leaving his backpack on the seat so that no one would take it, he got up and walked over to you. His back was practically groaning after being in the same position for so long. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice feeling hoarse from not having used it in a few hours.

"Excuse me, miss?" he asked, hoping you could hear him over your music, because that could have gotten very awkward. For a few seconds, he didn't think that you had heard him, but you took one of your earphones out to listen to him. 

"Yeah?" you said, looking up at the handsome stranger. He was tall, but that was probably because he was towering over you. He had a thick mop of nearly black hair, falling over the tanned skin of his forehead. But his eyes captured you the most. Deep and brown. All too easy to get lost in. 

"I had just noticed you've been sitting here for a long time, and you look like you could use rest in a proper chair," he said, and you couldn't help but let a soft smile spread across your lips. A handsome stranger with manners? Now you really felt like you were dreaming. Maybe the lack of sleep was making you delirious. 

"Are you sure? I don't mind sitting here if you don't want to lose your seat," you said, grateful for his generosity, but also feeling slightly guilty at the thought of taking up his offer. 

"Course, I've been sat there for a few hours. I don't mind taking the floor for a little while," he smiled, rocking back on his heels slightly. This was getting into dangerous territory now. Handsome, manners, dazzling smile. 

"Well thank you," you said, putting your things back in your bag and making a poor attempt at standing up. He offered a hand out to you, and you took it without hesitation. They were a lot bigger than yours, as well has a lot warmer. Slightly calloused too, he could probably do with some hand cream but you doubted he was that type of guy.

Walking you over to the seat, he picked his backpack up from it and slung it over his left shoulder. Slumping down into the seat, your body was happy to have some small sliver of a cushion as opposed to just hard flooring.

The stranger just stood there, unsure of whether to walk away and find some free floor space or wait with you. You noticed his internal struggle, and decided that you didn't want the stranger to return to being a stranger just yet. 

"Do you want to sit with me? I've got a neck pillow you can use, since you're going to be on the floor?" you asked, instantly feeling like an idiot. It felt like your attraction to him was completely obvious, but there was no way to get to know someone unless you talked to them.

"Sure," he nodded with that smile again. You shuffled your legs to the side so that he could rest his back on the edge of the seat, and you pulled your neck pillow out of your bag to hand to him. He had to admit, it was a very nice and comfy neck pillow. 

Despite what you could only assume to be a whole day of travelling, he still smelt unreal as he sat so close to you. Something deep, musky. Definitely something expensive. 

The stranger was also thinking of you as you sat there. He'd expect someone to be cranky after all of the flights being cancelled - especially on Christmas Eve. Yet here you were, being so nice to him after a day of globe trotting. 

"So, what's your name?" he asked, turning his head to look at you. 

"Y/N, you?" you returned.

"Carlos." he said, and he suited the name. His shoulder kept brushing against your legs, and you could feel the warmth of him through his jacket sleeve. "Were you heading home for the holidays?" he questioned, looking down at his watch as if the flights would suddenly be back on. 

It looked expensive, even if you didn't know the exact brand. He likely had money, was probably flying business or first class. It wasn't apparent quite yet which one it would be. 

"Yeah, I was. But I don't think anyone is making it in time for Christmas at this rate." you explained, and he nodded in response. 

"Me too. But I think I'll have to be prepared for the family to open presents without me," he said, and you could hear the hint of sadness in his tone. You completely understood, since this would be the first Christmas that you wouldn't be spending with your family.

"So where would home be if this blizzard wasn't keeping us all hostage?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Carlos seemed to get the hint, chuckling slightly at your quip. It was a hearty, deep sound. One that made the cold airport seem a little warmer. 

"Madrid, not a long flight thankfully. I'd hate to do some sort of long haul after being stuck here for however long we're going to be."

"But I guess you can get a good sleep on a long haul. On shorter flights, there's not much time to fall asleep and get enough rest so then you'll be even more tired on landing then customs and baggage claim and then getting to where you need to go." you rambled, and you noticed that Carlos was just looking at you. 

He was staring up at you from his spot on the floor. He had a soft smile on his face, as if he was enjoying your little analysis into long haul versus short haul flights at a time like this. "Sorry..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap. 

"No, no. You're good," he reassured, nudging you in the leg with his shoulder. You felt comfortable with Carlos, despite the fact that you had only known him for about ten minutes. The two of you settled into a silence for a short while, just enjoying having someone there to talk to if you felt like it.

Snow was still hammering against the window, and it wasn't showing any signs of slowing down any time soon. Sighing to yourself, you leant back in your chair to try and get comfy for a short nap. Carlos noticed you shifting and turned to look at you.

"Do you want your pillow back?" he asked.

"No, it's OK. You're on the floor, you need it more," you shook your head, shuffling to try and find some sort of position that your body would allow you to sleep in.

"Wake me up if there are any flights to Geneva. Or if you get a flight so that I can say goodbye," you told him.

"Geneva, eh?" he asked, looking very intrigued. "I would not have guessed that you're swiss." he continued. To be fair, he was very obviously Spanish, so it was easy to guess. With you, it was a bit more of a mystery. 

"I'm not, my entire family live there," you explained, and he was listening intently. 

"Well that's cool. I'm sure Geneva is stunning at Christmas," he said, and you nodded in response while stifling a yawn. "Anyway, I'll let you sleep. And I will only wake you up if I have to go if there is a flight for you," he repeated, with a somewhat melancholy expression. 

Carlos didn't want to say goodbye to you, not so soon. He had become captivated by the girl that he had first seen, eyes glued to the board in hopes that her flight might be reinstated or rescheduled to something in the near future. 

He couldn't say why, either. All he knew was your name and that you were heading home to Geneva. Well, that was where your family was. He didn't know where you were from originally. But, he wanted to find out. For the meantime, however, he would let you rest and just hope that another flight wouldn't pop up for either of you. 

He wanted to go home for Christmas, but he'd make it back in time for lunch at least if the flights held out for another few hours. That way, he'd get to spend some time with you and would be able to have ample time with his family at home. 

His texts to them weren't getting through due to how bad the weather was, but he was sure that they had been tracking his flight and would have seen that it was cancelled. They also knew he was at the airport, so they hopefully wouldn't worry too much about his whereabouts. 

About 3 hours had gone by, and Carlos' phone was nearly dead. So was his back. You were still sleeping. Maybe not so peacefully, but you were sleeping nonetheless. He was itching to get a coffee or something, just to wake him up a little. 

Carlos stood up, stretching out his muscles as they groaned in protest. "Hey, hey," he mumbled, gently nudging you awake. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Carlos standing over you, and you had to give yourself a few moments to verify that this wasn't a dream. 

"Are you going? Am I going?" you sleepily murmured, really hoping that neither of you had to leave just yet.

"No, I was just going to get a coffee and I was wondering if you wanted anything from any of the shops? Snacks, drinks, maybe a blanket from somewhere. Whatever you want." he said, taking his hand off of your shoulder and shoving it back into his pocket. 

"Just a coffee, please. Might perk me up," you told him, and he nodded before turning and walking off in the direction of the shops. It would be a miracle if they had any coffee left after hours of people waiting in the airport, but Carlos went knew that he needed to try. 

He went to a few coffee shops, most of them not having anything caffeinated and only soft drinks. Eventually, though, he found a very small cafe tucked away in the corner. Thankfully, they had a few coffees left, so Carlos ended up buying 2 coffees and 2 waters. 

It was harder than expected to locate you in the rows upon rows of seats, since there were many people who looked like you from the back. But, some intuition that he had sent him in the direction of where you were. And there he spotted you. Yes, it was only the back of your head, but he knew it was you. 

"Here you go," he announced, holding the to-go cup out to you. You took it from him with a grateful smile. He also fished out a water from his pocket, handing it out to you.

"Thank you," you said, sipping at the coffee. It was slightly too hot, burning your throat as it went down. The bitterness was welcome however, and you could already feel the caffeine seeping into your bloodstream. "That is perfection,"

"It's funny what something so simple can do, eh? Just a cup of bean water can make all the difference," he chuckled, and the sound was so infectious. It made the hustle and bustle of the stagnant airport seem a little less strange.

Just as Carlos finished his sentence, the chair next to him was vacated. The man who was originally sat in it was on the phone and was not looking pleased. It was probably his wife, asking where the hell he was. Carlos was quick off the mark, sitting down in it quickly before anyone else got any bright ideas after eyeing up the spot. 

"There we go. Now we both have some rock hard plastic to sit on," he laughed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. For a while, the two of you were talking. You had lent him your power bank to charge his phone, and his texts to his family finally went through. 

"Well would you look at the time," you declared, checking your phone and seeing that it was five minutes to midnight. Christmas was right on the horizon, and you weren't going to be seeing your family any time soon. Or opening presents. Or having dinner with them. 

"Huh, looks like we'll be spending the majority of Christmas in this airport. Or we can get a hotel room. Well, I... not we, I meant me and you can have separate ones, I'm not trying to-" he stuttered, and it was strange to see him so rattled after being so composed over the last few hours. 

"I know what you meant, Carlos. Don't worry. But I want to be on the first available flight home, so I will wait it out right here." you said, and he nodded in agreement. What you didn't know was that, if you were getting a hotel room, so was he. If you weren't, he wasn't either. 

"Me too." he agreed, checking his watch to see that there was now only 3 minutes until Christmas day. His family were all asleep in their beds, aware of his turmoil, yet comfortable while you were stuck. 

He felt guilty that he wasn't going to be there like he had promised. He was away all year, and the one time he always promised to be there, he wasn't. If he was being fair to himself, this was the first time that he had never been home for Christmas in his entire career, so his track record was pretty good. 

You were thinking the same thing about your own family. There was nothing you wanted more than to teleport to your room and head downstairs to open presents and celebrate with the people you loved more than anything else in this world.

Checking the time once again, you opened your phone just in time to watch the clock strike midnight. "Merry Christmas, Carlos," you said, sincerely smiling at him. There were much worse ways to be spending Christmas trapped in an airport, that was for sure. You had lucked out with a handsome, kind and likely rich Spanish casanova.

"Feliz Navidad, Y/N." he said, and you couldn't help but feel the butterflies spark at the Spanish. And the blush on your cheeks had totally given you away. He liked seeing you flustered. And this wasn't a bad way to spend Christmas, and neither of you wanted to spend it like this again.

But, the ghost of Christmas future had a better idea. Well, they had a better idea for a few things. The scenario? No. The setting? No way. The person? Hell yes. The future was already setting paths out for both of you, and all you had to do was choose to walk down it.

A/N - Merry Christmas my darlings! I know, I have been dead to the world for a month and a bit, but the inspiration was on a low down. Or a complete zero. Alas, that does not mean that I was going to allow myself to not get a Christmas special out! I might have missed every other holiday, but I will not let myself miss this years! Also, the FIFTH part to the Lando series will be out later today as a little further Christmas present. So, merry Christmas to those who celebrate, have an equally wonderful day to those who don't, and thank you for all of the support this year. I hope I can be more consistent next year, but I am not making any promises.

Want more Christmas fun? Click here and here.

|masterlist|

[voidpacifist]

viktor headcanons

[modern-ish edition + meljayvik because I cannot resist, also I'm desperate to see more unhinged little ideas about him outside of being everyone's favorite blorbo. we should fear that man and this is my thesis]

learned a weird amalgamation of martial arts and self defense as a kid due to growing up in zaun. despite being in what was considered the "safer" part of the underground, his mother worried he wouldn't be safe on his own. his core strength and arm strength are absolutely ridiculous

in fact, one time he was hooking up with a fellow academy student, and by the time the whole affair was over with, he was hardly breaking a sweat while the other person was trying to catch their breath. he became somewhat of a local legend at frat parties because not only can he wear someone out for hours but, allegedly, he's real freaky with it too

knows the exact monetary value of different human body organs on the black market. whether or not this is from experience is something jayce and mel are unable to determine. vi is also knowledgeable of this and has traded tragic backstories with him in detail

has had to kill a man before, and tells this to jayce frequently to win petty arguments (jayce never actually believes him, even though it is fully and one hundred percent true). it doesn't work on mel

jayce and mel have a secret chart written of how many substances viktor has tried and with how much frequency. weed is at the top of the list, with alcohol being shockingly low. in spite of coming from a slavic background, viktor didn't learn how to hold very much liquor without feeling ill, but for some reason is fine with the illicit psychedelics that grow naturally in the undercity near the runoff tunnels. so far the list is nearly half a page long

will not hit anyone with his mobility aids but will ABSOLUTELY find ways to blackmail and hustle his way out of embarrassment. he learned the blackmailing skill from mel, and frequently looks to her for information since she somehow knows the most about the student body

extremely morbid sense of humor. jokes about being fatherless/motherless behavior and then hits you with, "I would know :]." mel is an honorary member of the motherless behavior banter, considering her own mother disowned her shortly before she came to piltover

taking care of one another is equal parts give and take with him, jayce, and mel, but it's never in a way that demeans each other or exploits each other's weaknesses. for example, viktor hates being carried or manhandled without consent and finds it incredibly patronizing if someone assumes he needs help without just asking him (common sense, but the student body is full of ableist sharks). if he's having a bad pain day or is finding it hard to move, he and jayce (or he and mel, depending on time and place) have a system for getting him to or from somewhere without drawing much attention and even have specific "I need help but don't want to be stared at about it" phrases

father's half of the family is slavic and mother's half of the family is romani. cannot follow a recipe unless it has specific measurements, but can improvise ANY stew or potato based dish with little more than his nose and a few kitchen tools. jayce can improvise any dish, but will always somehow overdo the spice if it calls for spice. mel is happy to try any and everything they make (on her birthday, she's spoiled with their attempts at making the ethnic food from her family, and she'll never tell them but she's very touched by their efforts)

owned ONE pet in his life and it was a hamster. instead of freaking out over it's death, he studied it's body post mortem until his father declared it a biohazard and forced him to dispose of it

learned most of his chemists knowledge from a disgraced former academy professor, but taught himself everything else he knows (if he couldn't get access to it in school). including, for fun, how to preserve and analyze body parts. he initially wanted to be a surgeon or biomedical engineer, but then stuck with chemistry (specifically regarding infectious diseases) to try and find a cure for the grey

shows up randomly at jayces or mels dorms at strange hours in the evening/morning. the first time he showed up at mel's, she thought a burglary was being attempted. he made it out with a bad knock to the head, but she did make him tea in the aftermath as an apology (he hated it but drank the whole thing anyway)

gets stoned with jinx on the weekends, since she's the only one who can find him good, ethically sourced weed. he pays her back by teaching her things he's learning and researching at the academy

meljayvik + caitvi + timebomb dates but they have to find a way to rent out the whole place because each and every one of them has Some Kind of History with the other academy students even though jinx and ekko are still a couple years shy of college age

viktor threw up at the distinguished innovators competition because jayce did first. it was a whole disaster. they spent hours after the ordeal hyping each other up on gatorade and pure adrenaline. it was the physically worst jayce has ever felt around viktor but far from the worst viktor has ever felt around jayce. this was just days after the two of them met mel, and she spent the rest of the evening forcing them to sleep or eat something that wasn't "pure chemicals." somehow, this ended in a heated debate between herself and viktor about the validity of gatorade as a substantial meal. he still refuses to admit he lost

I've said this before and I'll say it again: he has a closet full of ramen. mel takes from his stash often

can run on caffeine and very little sleep to the point where he is physically incapable of resting like a normal human being without feeling drained. flu season is absolute hell

showed up to one of his lectures shirtless once because he was in a hurry. fed everyone who looked at him funny the most outrageous sob story about how "weak" he was, then laughed about it with mel and jayce like an absolute sociopath for days about it. jayce did not find it altogether very funny. mel and him still joke about it

beat vi in an arm wrestling contest before he got sick. still almost beat her after his diagnosis too, but still took the betting money anyway. she'll never admit she's slightly terrified of him, but it shows

can wield many different kinds of knives but is terribly clumsy when it comes to other weapons like clubs and swords and staffs. tapped out of adaptive sports within his first week because it was "boring him." spent the next month teaching martial arts to his fellow disabled peers until the board made it an official extracurricular

turned sky down in the nicest but most insane way possible. nobody knows what happened or how, just that they ended up spending MORE time together after the fact and that it involved illicit activities. the rumors were insufferable for weeks. and wildly funny

(please feel free to add more, I'm gonna start a collection)

[twostepstyless]

Elves Wanted

Main Masterlist

SFW

Author’s Note: Y/N and Harry are drama students from two separate drama schools just looking to make some extra money over the Christmas period. Colleagues to friends to lovers ig? No major warnings I don’t think, maybe a tiny little chat about Christmas being a hard time of year. 

This is my first piece of writing in a looooong long time, so please be gentle  

As always, likes, reblogs and feedback of any variety is encouraged and always appreciated - G x 

Word Count: 7.7K+

It was the middle of November when Y/N saw it. The poster looked threatening. A large font, emboldened and in scary looking shade of red. The paper had gone a bit wrinkly as if it had been clutched tightly in a hand full of piles of the same advert printed over and over again. A contact email was printed multiple times along the bottom on tear-off tabs of paper, the fact that only one tab containing the address was missing added to the overall unappealing look of the advertisement that Y/N found on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception of her drama school. It looked threating compared to the opportunity it was offering. 

ELVES WANTED was printed at the top of the sheet followed by a short, bulleted list of qualifications:

Must have an enthusiastic and friendly personality

No experience necessary

No maximum height limit!!!

Great pay for festive season!

DBS checks will be carried out. 

Illustrations of holly leaves and berries bordered the A4 advert and severe looking underlines on the next steps asking for a headshot and CV to be forwarded to the recruiter’s email attached to the tear-off slips. A mall elf. Santa’s little helper. Y/N didn’t think it was the worst gig she could have in the world. Another thing to add to her CV she supposed. She realises she’s trying to convince herself into doing it and she was of the mindset if you had to convince yourself something is a good idea, it probably isn’t. But the Christmas holidays were looming and her student loan never in a million years could stretch towards Christmas presents and the zero hours contract she had a greasy spoon café down the road from her flat was certainly not helping either. She was desperate for consistent income to see her through Christmas. So, with a sigh, she ripped off the email information. 

***

Across the city, Harry was stood in front of an advert on the ‘Opportunities’ board in the reception area of his drama school. Harry frowned, then leaned in closer to get a better look. He read the poster twice, then a third time, and despite his better judgment, he felt a strange pull. There was something ridiculous about it, something he couldn’t quite shake. The idea of becoming an elf at Santa’s Grotto in a shopping centre, a 6-foot (on a good day at least) elf at that, on the surface, was completely mental. But then again, he thought back to the acting gig he had over Christmas last year and thought anything would be better than that. Plus, he loved Christmas really, and getting to spread a bit of joy can only be a positive thing. He rubbed his temple as though to clear his thoughts, still staring at the flyer. ‘Great pay’, the poster said. That was tempting. What the hell? He could be an elf for a month. Maybe there was something strange and fun about playing a cheerful holiday character—something a little whimsical and different from his usual typecast as a tortured soul or brooding romantic lead. Harry's lips quirked into a smile. “I can totally do this,” he muttered to himself, snapping a photo of the requirements and ripping off the contact email and shoving it into his pocket. 

***

Y/N trudged back to her flat after leaving uni, fell into her bed and fished out her laptop to send her email to the elf recruiter. She attached her most recent headshot and newly updated CV and sent it off to the email address she clung onto. As her laptop screen faded to black, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the screen. She didn’t look happy. She looked knackered actually, with heavy dark circles around her eyes. The past few months had been a lot. Exhausting, frustrating, and filled with self-doubt. She’d just finished a semester of intense Stanislavski system classes which were emotionally, physically and psychologically taxing when she was applying them to the acting pieces she was performing. She longed for a break, for something to remind her why she had fallen in love with performing and acting in the first place. Maybe this odd elf job would do that���maybe she could rediscover some joy in performing, even if it was just a month or so of prancing around in stripy tights and painted on rosy cheeks.

Y/N sighed and shook her head, but a small smile crept onto her lips. Why not? she thought again, maybe she could learn to appreciate Christmas again. 

***

Winter had truly set in the next week when Y/N arrived at the shopping centre’s service entrance. The wind nipped at her face, the only bit of her not covered up by woolly or fleece fabric. Despite the cold, there was a gentle hum of festive energy beginning to spark. She had her phone open directing her to the disused unit nearest the newly built grotto which they had turned into a dressing room and break room for all the actors who were going to be working there over the holidays. She had to agree there would be something distinctly unmagical about a child seeing the elf that had shown them to Santa, or the big man himself, walking through the mall with a backpack over their costume to catch the tube home.  

This was it—the first day of her “elf job,” as ridiculous as it seemed. She still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d gotten herself into. At least Noelle seemed nice enough as a manager when they’d spoken over zoom after Y/N applied. (Y/N still wasn’t sure if that was her actual name or that Noelle just loved Christmas that much, she’d given it to herself, she wouldn’t be shocked if it was the latter) And hey, it wasn’t like there was anything else on her schedule at the moment, classes having broken up for an extended Christmas break this week to allow the students to pick up winter acting gigs. 

The smell of cinnamon and something distinctly chocolatey wafted through the air as she hurried through the shopping centre, the disused unit between the small Boots (the big boots was on the second floor) and Clarks shoe shop was her end goal with a note to show up at 8:30 to be assigned her costume, meet their Santa and the other elves and to be talked through what their role was and what do before the kids started arriving to meet Saint Nick at 10:30 A.M. 

She was first there. Not a shock, she’s notoriously early to everything. Just Noelle in the space, ticking Y/N’s name off the list attached to her clipboard and urging her to pull up a chair until the rest of her colleagues arrived. Tubs of celebrations and heroes cracked open on the tables for the employees to pick at if they were on break. 

Y/N quickly snagged a Malteser one from the red tub knowing those were her favourite but always the first to run out in a box of Celebrations. As she rammed the chocolate into her mouth a deep, slow voice called out.

“Hey! Are y’here for the elf job too?”

Y/N looked up. A boy—no, a man—was walking toward her, a friendly smile on his face. He was tall, like worthy of stating in your dating profile tall, with chocolatey, perfectly tousled hair like he’d just ran his fingers through it and it fell perfectly. His cheeks were also flushed from the cold, and there was an energy about him, an air of confidence that could potentially approach cockiness, but not in a dickhead way, a way that made Y/N feel suddenly self-conscious. She straightened up, trying to look more confident.

“Uh, yeah.” Fuck, she still had the half-chewed Malteser sweet in her mouth, she swallowed it harshly. “I am, yeah,” she said, his voice coming out a little awkwardly. 

The man laughed lightly, as if sensing her discomfort, and stuck out his hand. “M’Harry. S’my first day, too. So, we’re in the same boat.”

Y/N hesitated for a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and his-Harry’s eyes sparkled with a kind of warmth that she wasn’t used to.

“Harry,” she said. “Yeah, I figured I wasn’t the only one.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing around. “Have y’seen the costumes?” he asked with a grin. “Noelle was pulling the rail out as I came in,” he nodded towards the rail now in Y/N’s peripheral, “and not that I’m biased towards the fact me n’you are here first… but I think we’re going to look the best.” 

Y/N snorted, suddenly picturing the pair of them in the green and red get up she could see swinging around on hangers that Harry pointed out. “Yeah, right. I’m not sure there is a looking the best in those but I’ll try not to look too much like a walking, talking Christmas tree.”

Harry laughed again, his voice light and carefree. “You could be a very stylish Christmas tree. And if not, I’m sure the kiddies will love you anyway. I mean, it’s hard t’look serious in tha’.”

Y/N had to agree. She could see tiny bells on the tips of the curly toed shoes and around the base of the pointy hat that were jingling in an absurdly cheerful way as Noelle pulled the rail up towards the congregating elves, more of whom had arrived in the time she had been speaking to Harry not that she noticed them arrive. 

“I’m guessing you’ve done this before?” she asked.

“Nope,” Harry replied with a shrug, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “But I’m an actor, so literally trained in fake it til I make it.” She glanced at him knowingly. “I’m sure you can, too.”

There was something about the way he said it, so effortlessly, as if being an actor was the most natural thing in the world. Y/N felt a pang of recognition. She was the same way, always pretending like she had her shit together when, in reality, she felt like she hanging by a thread the vast majority of the time.

“You’re an actor, too?” she asked, as Harry pulled a twirl out the box of heroes and snaffled it down just as quickly. 

“Yeah,” he said round the mouthful of chocolate, “Where d’you go?” 

 “Oh, I’m at RADA,” she said with a sheepish smile, as though it were no big deal. “How about you?”

“The Conservatoire,” Harry replied in a similar tone. “It’s… kind of intense there. Everyone’s obsessed with Shakespeare n’like fuckin’ Laurence Olivier,” he chuckled. His voice tinged with self-deprecation. “Which is fine, and y’know same but sometimes it feels like m’in an endless cycle of waiting. Auditions, classes, workshops, more auditions…” He trailed off, realizing he was rambling. “Though suppose you’re the same at RADA,” He finished.

Y/N’s eyes softened a little. “I get that. Sometimes it feels like I’m auditioning for my own bloody life instead of actually living it, and the constant seriousness can really knock the wind out of it and make you forget why you started acting in the first place.” She leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms. 

“At least this elf job is different. It’s kind of nice to do just… do something fun, you know?” Harry suggested.

Y/N nodded, a little surprised by the ease in which he found the bright side. There was a grounded quality to him that she hadn’t expected, especially when he said he attended the conservatoire. He didn’t seem to be caught up in the competitive, high-strung nature of their shared world, or if he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.  Maybe it was his willingness to embrace something as silly as playing an elf that made him stand out to her.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “I think I’m just overthinking it. Like, this is the first thing I’ve gotten in a minute that’s actually paying me, and I’m being weird about it. Plus, I’ve got the perfect excuse to wear a fun outfit for a month,” she giggled, hoping to match his blasé attitude. 

Harry smiled back, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. “Exactly!” 

Before their conversation could go any further, Noelle, decked out in an obscene Christmas jumper with glittery yarn and flashing lights stood at the front of the now full room.

“Hiya chookies! Welcome to your first day as Santa’s helpers!” she said brightly in her bubbly Welsh accent, clapping her hands together. “I’ve spoken to you all before but just to reintroduce I’m Noelle and I’ll be your manager for the duration of this job! You’ll be working alongside our Santa Claus, Arthur, bringing the magic to life for all the little ones we’ll have coming to visit right up until the 24th of December. You’ll mostly be working in pairs which I can split you up into- or I see most of you have split into little groups already so that will do just lovely too!” 

At the mention of already being in pairs, Harry and Y/N’s eyes flickered up to each other’s with a small smile from Y/N and a wink from Harry that made Y/N’s stomach swoop as he mouthed ‘partner’ at her. 

Noelle continued, “so we’ll get you costumed and your elf’s name assigned to you, then we’ve got a few little training things to get through before we kick off the festive season with our first visitors at 10:30!” 

***

The rest of the morning was a blur of final costume adjustments, training videos about handling children, and learning the ropes of the “Santa meet-and-greet” routine. Introduce, smile, take the kid to Santa, reassure any nervous little ones, pass out candy canes til you’re blue in the face, and sprinkle as much magic and joy in there as possible as they went. As 10:30 approached, Harry found himself standing next to Y/N at the edge of Santa’s grotto ready for the first batch of children to arrive. 

Through the noise of the shopping centre, chatter and the beep of checkouts and the rush of activity, Harry caught Y/N’s eye and offered her a dazzling smile. “Well Sugarplum,” he said, now referring to Y/N as her Elf name, as was required in their training, his voice low enough for only her to hear, “here we go. Let’s see if we can make some Christmas magic without completely embarrassing ourselves.”

Y/N laughed softly, knocking her hip against his playfully. “You’ll do great. Just remember to smile like you mean it and even if we’re pretending that it’s the most magical moment of your life.”

Harry rolled his eyes but found himself smiling anyway. “I’ll try my best. Elf-ing is harder than it looks I reckon.”

As the first family approached the line, Y/N leaned closer to him, her voice playful. “Ready to bring some joy to the world, Jingles?”

“After you, my jolly little elf,” Harry said with a smile, feeling something spark between them that he couldn’t quite name, their shoes jingling as they bounced forwards to greet their first family. 

***

The first shift was chaotic.

Y/N had been bracing herself for the madness of it all, but nothing quite prepared her for the relentless pace of the Santa meet-and-greet. From the moment they arrived at the grotto and workshop themed area, complete with twinkling lights, piles of fake presents, an enormous, fluffy teddy bear in the corner and nutcrackers as tall as Harry, it was clear that the role of an elf was not as simple as it seemed.

The instructions from Noelle had been brief—"Smile, be enthusiastic, don't get in Santa's way, and make sure every child gets their gift!"—but in practice, it felt like a never-ending whirlwind. The line of eager little children accompanied by parents and carers lapped around the grotto and down the hallways of the mall and the air buzzed with the excited chatter of families, the high-pitched giggles of toddlers, and the occasional wail of a child whose feet hurt from waiting or was a little scared of the man with the round belly and red suit. 

Y/N was feeling the initial confidence boost Harry gave her, waver. The green tunic was a tad itchy, the makeup to paint her cheeks rosy was 100% going to cause her a spotty breakout and the pointy shoes, which she’d thought would be a fun novelty, now felt like they were cutting off the circulation to her toes. She was supposed to be cheerful and welcoming, but every time she smiled, it felt a little forced. And then there was the jingle. The tiny bells attached to the hem of her outfit, hat and tips of her curly shoes made every step a clinking reminder that she was no longer the serious actor she aspired to be. No, now she was an elf, and that meant every footstep seemed to ring with the joyful spirit of Christmas. 

"Alright, Sugarplum!" Harry’s voice cut through the noise as he slid into place next to her. "You’re doing great! Just keep smiling!" His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Y/N couldn’t help but return his grin, even if it was more of a grimace.

“I’m not sure I’m pulling off the ‘joyful, Christmas spirit’ look,” she muttered, glancing at Harry. “I think the kids can tell I'm not really feeling it.”

“Oh, please,” he teased, adjusting his own costume, he had managed to twist one of the legs of his red tights around his leg as he peeled them up when he got changed and seemed completely unbothered by it. “You look like you just stepped off of an elf runway. Like we are North Pole Fashion Week right here. Autumn/Winter 2024’s finest!”

He was, in fact, a burst of holiday cheer. His costume fit well, minus the small problem with his tights. His movements were smooth and confident, and he had this way of leaning into his role that made it seem effortless. Every time a child came up to him, he greeted them with enthusiasm, making silly faces to the young ones who couldn’t talk yet, or twirling around to make them squeal and giggle.

Y/N, on the other hand, had already almost fell onto the nutcracker when a child approached her from behind. 

***

"Hey, Elves!" a little girl said in a high-pitched voice, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was maybe seven years old, with a haughty expression on her face that both Harry and Y/N couldn’t help but find hilarious. "I want a unicorn for Christmas."

“Uh, okay, a unicorn,” Y/N repeated, trying to channel the enthusiasm Noelle had instructed them to have. “Is that, like, a stuffed unicorn or an actual unicorn?”

The little girl stared at her blankly. “A real one. With wings.” As if that was obvious, Y/N thought.

Y/N blinked. “Oh… right. Well, I think we’ll need to ask Santa if he can make that happen. Santa has magical powers, you know, isn’t that right Jingles?” she gestured to Harry, desperately wanting to involve him in this conversation to get it over with quicker.  

“That’s absolutely right Sugarplum, but I’m not sure the unicorn’s gonna make it through customs...” Harry trailed off

The girl raised an eyebrow. “I don’t care about that. I want a unicorn. With wings.”

“Understood.” Harry nodded seriously. “I’ll put in the request to Santa’s workshop immediately.” Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Harry so turned away to get her giggles out as she organised the piles of gifts for the kids as the little girl continued on.

She gave a dramatic sniff before turning to her adult and questioning, “mummy why does that elf have all those on him?”

“All what, princess?” The little girl’s mother barely took her eyes off her phone while responding to her. 

“All those drawings,” she pointed her sticky looking hand to Harry while her mother finally looked up and over with distaste to see Harry’s lower arm exposed from where the fluffy cuffs on his tunic had ridden up, exposing the inky swirls that littered his arm.  

“I got these in prison,” Harry said to the child, seriously. 

“HARRY,” Y/N shouts whipping her head round from the reorganised piles of presents and a series of giggles. 

“Um, its Jingles to you, Miss Sugarplum,” he responded to Y/N with a sly look in his eye before turning back to the little girl, “I broke a lot of elf and safety rules,” he nodded with a sad sort of soft smile as the girl and her mother moved farther up the queue and away from Harry and Y’N’s section.

“You’re going to get sacked,” Y/N laughed. 

“Nah, no chance, I don’t reckon there’s any understudies for elves, I’m just trying to brighten the place up, they say Christmas cheer is spread through laughter,” Harry said reaching for one of the candy canes they had in a bowl to give out to customers.  

“No one says that” Y/N responded.

“Wel, I did just then,” Harry smirked before shoving his newly unwrapped candy cane between his lips. 

***

Y/N found herself laughing more, letting go of the relentless pressure she usually placed on herself. She still had moments of doubt, but they were becoming less frequent. And more often than not, Harry was there, laughing with her, encouraging her to embrace the more sparkly, joyful side of things.

By the end of the week, both Harry and Y/N were beginning to look forward to their shifts—not just for the pay check, but because of the time spent with each other. Their friendship was growing, deepening in those small moments of shared joy. They spent their breaks together, sharing their lunches and swapping stories about their schools, about their aspirations, about everything and nothing.

“I jus’ couldn’t face doing panto again this Christmas for some work experience, last year I ended up in a production of Cinderella at holiday park in the arse end of nowhere and let me just tell you never again,” Harry said round mouthfuls of the Subway sandwich he’d ran to go pick them up on their joint lunch break.

“You didn’t?!” Y/N gasped dramatically, putting her own sandwich down. 

“I did.” 

“Oh no you didn’t,” Y/N refuted.

“What y’on about? I did, I played Buttons.”

“Oh no you didn’t!” Y/N teased.

“Oh no you didn- OH ha ha, very funny,” Harry rolled his eyes playfully.  “But yeah I had to stay in a static caravan for the length of the run, and not one of those nice, posh static caravans with the deck and did y’know some of them have actual baths in ‘em too? It was a shit one, that smelt of damp and sand from the beach and had a scorch mark on the carpet from the fan radiator someone had put on upside down, the thing probably would’ve looked better if it had gone up in flames.”

***

It was the week before Christmas, when the shopping centre was at its peak. Crowds of shoppers were everywhere. Pushing, jostling, and frantically checking their lists. Santa’s grotto had gotten busier and busier and December went on, and Harry and Y/N were in the thick of it, dodging around children, parents, and cameras, keeping up the relentless pace of their elf duties. 

They were stationed in the photo line, dishing out candy canes left, right and centre to anyone who didn’t already have one clutched in their hands. The music overhead had transitioned from classic carols to the more upbeat, catchy tunes—"Jingle Bell Rock," "Last Christmas," and, of course what’s Christmas without a little bit of Mariah. 

“Honestly, feels like Christmas exploded all over this place,” Harry muttered to Y/N as a child skipped past them, jingling her own set of bells in her hair. He adjusted his own costume and shot a glance around at the sea of red and green. “I love Christmas but even I’m starting to feel a little less Santa n’a little more Scrooge.” 

Y/N’s grin was infectious. “I know, right? But I think I’m starting to really love it rather than seeing this as a quick, easy wage every week. It feels like a big Christmas party every day and really is starting to put me in the mood for the 25th.”

Harry snorted. “You’re a better elf than I’ll ever be then. I’m about two seconds from snapping the candy canes and calling it a day.” 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes glinting mischievously. “You could do that. But you’d be the elf who shows up on the ‘Naughty List,’ and frankly, I don’t think you want that reputation,” Y/N shrugged playfully.

“Well, there’s always next year,” Harry replied with a wink.

As the hours passed, the atmosphere only intensified. The mall was bursting with excited chatter, laughter, and the occasional tantrum from an upset child. Harry was starting to feel the weight of it all—the constant smiling, the relentless energy. He glanced over at Y/N, who seemed unaffected by it all. She was laughing, her face flushed from the warmth of the crowd, her energy infectious, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something—something more than the seemingly newly discovered holiday cheer that seemed to shine out of her pores like the lights round the Christmas trees. There was a depth to her that he couldn’t quite place. A vulnerability that was hidden beneath her new, bright exterior. He had seen it before, right at the start of their run—brief moments when her eyes grew a little distant or when she would zone out during a particularly quiet lull. She seemed melancholic a lot of the time at the beginning but the closer they got to Christmas her personality seemed to do a switch to the most utterly joyful person you could ever come across. Harry didn’t buy it, not completely anyway. 

After another round of photos, a break finally arrived. It wasn’t much—only fifteen minutes—but it was enough for them to run off to their break room to rest their jingled feet. Harry slumped down in his seat, taking a long, deep breath of the slightly cooler air of their break room. He caught sight of Y/N across the room, filling up a glass of water each for them from the cooler.

"Hey," Harry said, his voice a bit quieter now. “Y’alright?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide and a little startled by the question. She blinked a couple of times, as if trying to shake off some thought she’d been lost in.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied quickly, offering a bright smile. “I’m just… y’know. Trying t’make the most of the break.” She gestured vaguely around; the room was empty bar the pair of them.

“Right,” Harry said, but there was something in her tone that didn’t quite match the smile she was giving him. He knew her well enough by now to see that something was off. It was slight, subtle even, but it was there.

He took a deep breath, feeling that the awkwardness of the moment would pass if he just said it. “Look, Y/N... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable n’just tell me t’fuck off if I’m overstepping or anything… but I feel like there’s more going on with you than you’re letting on.”

She froze for a moment before placing the now full glass of water in front of Harry. Her eyes shifted to the floor, her expression briefly faltering before she met his gaze again.

“You’re talking about the personality transplant I’ve had in the last few days, aren’t you?” she asked with a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Harry shook his head. “No. I mean… yes. But not just that.” He pulled the chair next to him round to an angle so they would be basically facing each other eye to eye as he encouraged her to take a seat. Lowering his voice slightly. “I know m’not the best at reading people, but I can tell y’hiding something. You’re not as… I don’t know… there’s something not quite right about the smile you’re painting on, right?”

Y/N’s smile faltered, and she glanced away. “I’m fine, Harry. I promise.”

But Harry didn’t buy it. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in her voice, a tone as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact and not just him, that made him feel that she wasn’t fine.

“Y/N, m’not trying to make you talk about anything you’re not ready to share,” Harry said gently. “But… you can’t just bury everything under the elf costume and the smiles. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes,” he said with a soft smile as he nudged his knee against her own. 

The room was silent. Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, clearly battling with something. Harry held his breath, waiting. Finally, she sighed deeply, as if the weight of it all had become too much to carry any longer.

“I didn’t want to bring it up, s’a bit of a mood killer at this time of year,” she said quietly, her voice thick with something Harry couldn’t quite place. “But... I guess I’m just tired. Not physically—well, kind of. But emotionally. I don’t know… I’ve been pretending a lot this year.”

Harry watched her, his brow furrowing. "Pretending?"

Y/N let out a shaky breath and nodded. “My family... my dad... this time of year is always hard for me. Christmas is supposed to be happy, right? But it just... reminds me of everything I’ve lost. Things that don’t work out. People who move on.” She paused, her voice trembling just slightly. “I didn’t want to let it affect my job here. I didn’t want to ruin the fun, or the magic… and I guess it’s been a lot.”

Harry felt a pang of sympathy for her. The words hung in the air like fragile glass, and he could see how much it had cost her to admit it. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, he just nodded, understanding. “I get it,” he said eventually. “Y’don’t have to keep pretending, though. Not round me anyway.”

She gave him a small, relieved smile, but there was still sadness behind her eyes. “Thanks, Harry,” she whispered, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “I think I just needed someone to hear it. Even if it’s just for a second. I’m just… knackered,” she sighed.

Harry leant closer, offering gentle smile his hand reaching down to squeeze her knee. “Anytime. You know that.”

For the last few moments of their break, they just sat there, sipping on their water and cooling down for a bit, the noise of the shopping centre drifting in from the distance. Harry didn’t push her to say more, but they both knew something had shifted between them in that moment. Y/N wasn’t just his elf colleague anymore. She was a person with a past, with scars, with feelings. And Harry wanted to be there for her, even if it meant just offering an ear if she needed it.

And maybe she just needed to know that someone was there to listen, even someone she met working at Santa’s Grotto.

The break ended with the sound of a loud cheer coming from the main concourse of the shopping centre, where a new group of children had gathered to see Santa. Y/N downed the rest of her water and gave her cheeks a few quick pats to wake herself up, as if the moment of vulnerability had never happened, and smiled at Harry.

“Ready for round two?” she asked, her voice lighter than before.

Harry nodded. “Let’s do this Sugarplum.” And for the first time in a long while, Harry realized that sometimes, just being real with someone else was the greatest gift of all.

***

The day before Christmas was a blur of lights, music, and the constant hum of holiday energy. For such a manic day, it was a slow one. Harry had stopped counting the hours long ago of his shifts long ago; it was just a matter of getting through the day, but with Y/N by his side, it felt bearable. Their friendship had become a steady constant, something Harry looked forward to in the midst of the holiday madness. They spent their breaks together, talked about everything and nothing, and found little ways to make each other laugh.

But today felt different. There was a quiet tension in the air between them, an unspoken awareness that lingered longer than usual. It was approaching midday on Christmas Eve, the final shift before the big day. The mall was packed, the halls full of families rushing to get those last-minute photos with Santa, children buzzing with excitement. Harry and Y/N had just finished their break and were back on as Jingles and Sugarplum, standing in front of the grotto. They had gotten good at this—good at smiling until their cheeks hurt, good at posing for photos, good at handing out candy canes like it was second nature. But today, something felt… off. Something wasn’t quite as simple as it had been before.

“Last day,” Y/N said, adjusting her costume, the bells twinkling and punctuating her sentence, her tone almost too casual as she looked around at the busy area. “Can y’believe it’s finally Christmas Eve?”

Harry shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It kind of feels like we’ve been doing this forever, doesn’t it? Like, time doesn’t even work anymore.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes scanning the crowd. Then, turning back to Harry, her gaze lingered a moment too long. “You know, I’ve actually really enjoyed this. Not the work, obviously, but… the time we’ve spent together. It’s been…” She hesitated, glancing down at her costume before meeting his eyes again. “Nice. A break from my usual, I guess.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t say it directly, but there was something in her voice that made him wonder if she felt the same way he did.

“I get that,” he said, his voice a little quieter than before. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but I feel like we’ve gotten into this rhythm. You know what I mean?”

She smiled, that familiar, easy smile that made him feel like he was the only one in the room. “Exactly. We’ve somehow survived this madness, and now it’s almost over.”

As they stood there, exchanging glances with the busy families waiting in line, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of… finality. He had been dreading the end of this gig, not because he didn’t want to go back to the conservatoire and his classes after break but because he didn’t want to not see Y/N every day. The idea of her becoming just another friendly face in the crowd of his life was akin to one of Shakespeare’s tragedies to him, he didn’t want that at all.

“You’re right,” he said slowly, “I don’t want it to be over. This... thing we’ve got going on, I mean.”

Y/N paused, her eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion. “What do you mean, ‘this thing’?” 

Fuck, Harry thought as looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious, a rarity for him. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just imagining that there was something between them. But the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way they laughed together, the way he felt this inexplicable pull towards her. 

“This thing where it’s easy to talk t’you. Where we don’t have to pretend with each other,” he said carefully, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest. “Where… I don’t know… I feel like I can be myself at least.”

She blinked, processing his words. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then her lips curled into a slow, thoughtful smile. “I know what you mean,” she said softly. “It’s like… we don’t have to be perfect all the time, right? Like, we can just… be. Together.”

The way she said the word “together” sent a small shiver down Harry’s spine. He could feel the air between them shift, and suddenly, he wasn’t sure if it was just the holiday magic, or something more. Something deeper.

He took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to her. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud wail from a child pierced the air, cutting through the moment like a knife. The child, no older than six, was tugging at her mother’s sleeve, refusing to get anywhere near the front door of the grotto where on the other side she’d meet Santa. Her voice was a screech of fear almost, desperate to leave.

Harry and Y/N immediately snapped back into their roles, the brief, intimate moment forgotten in an instant. It was as though the world had snapped back into its chaotic rhythm. Harry plastered on his best elf smile and turned to the mother, ready to jump back into character.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, though his mind was still racing with the things he had almost said to Y/N.

Y/N, ever the professional, was immediately by Harry’s side, kneeling down to the little girls height. “Hey there sweetness, I’m Sugarplum and this is my pal Jingles,” she said in a gentle, soothing voice nodding to Harry who waved at the shy little girl. “Y’know, Santa’s not so bad. Look, we’re elves and have worked with the big man for forever, and we think he’s pretty cool, isn’t that right Jingles?” 

The little girl sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve of her little red coat, before glancing up at Y/N and Harry with watery eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely!” Harry said with a wink, before he too knelt down to the girls’ level, his voice bright and reassuring. “Santa’s just a big teddy bear. In fact he gave me this,” Harry pulled a candy cane from his pocket with a flourish, “t’give to you before we go in and see him!”

The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, before nodding slowly reaching out to wrap her fingers around the candy cane Harry held out to her, “Okay…”

As the little girl settled, Harry couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N. She had a way with the kids who were a little scared or nervous, a warmth that made him admire her even more. She always knew exactly what to say, always had the right level of energy to make them feel better. It was something he’d noticed before, but today, it felt like a piece of the larger picture. When the little girl finally took a seat on the stool next to Santa’s chair and was yapping away listing off things she wanted for Christmas as well as things she thinks he should give her baby brother, Harry and Y/N exchanged a smile at a job well done. 

As the rest of the day wore on, the mall’s energy peaked and then began to mellow. The final families arrived, children almost vibrating with excitement at Santa’s imminent arrival, parents frantically snapping photos. In the quiet moments between families, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She was still the same—cheerful, warm, effortlessly glowing—but there was a new layer between them now, an unspoken understanding.

Finally, as the evening came to a close, the last group of families having exited with their pictures in hand. Santa waving a big goodbye to any straggler groups citing that he had a long night ahead of him and had to go see Mrs Claus before he set off on his journey around the world. Harry and Y/N were left alone in the grotto, it was just the two of them now, standing in the glow of the Christmas lights, the last traces of holiday music playing softly in the background.

Y/N turned to Harry, her eyes locking with his. “I guess this is it,” she said softly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, his heart beating just a little faster. “It’s weird. I kind of thought it would feel like a relief when it was over, but… now it’s here, it feels… wrong, somehow.”

Y/N smiled softly, stepping a little closer to him. “It’s not over, Harry. It’s just… different now.”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope so.”

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they both leaned in, just inches apart. The air between them was charged, the magic of Christmas, the long month and a half of working side by side, and the undeniable pull they felt toward each other all converging in that one perfect instant.

Before Harry could think too much about it, Y/N closed the small gap, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but filled with something deeper—something neither of them could deny any longer.

The moment held, timeless and sweet, as they finally gave in to the feelings that had been building between them, and as they pulled back, breathing in the shared warmth of the kiss, it was clear to both of them: this was only the beginning.

“D’you think we can go get changed now? I never want to see or feel another pair of fucking tights anywhere near my legs for a long, long time,” Harry said as Y/N burst into fitful giggles her face slumping against his shoulder as she laughed

***

They had swapped numbers early on in their job, Harry’s suggestion since they were paired together in case one of the two were to be poorly or running late but had never used those numbers. As much as Harry’s fingers twitched to do so. 

They separated outside the mall after their kiss, both rushing off to get to their families to spend Christmas Day with them. Christmas morning came with a quiet calm. Y/N had expected to wake up feeling exhausted, her muscles sore from the constant running around, the endless hours of standing in character, smiling for the camera, but instead, she woke up in her bedroom at her Mum’s house… on edge. Like something had shifted, and now the world around her seemed to have rearranged itself, in ways she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for.

She also woke up to a text and her heart took off running. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄 : Merry Christmas Sugarplum!! Hope your day is as magic as you are xx

Fucking hell, he sent kisses, KISSES… Should she send kisses back, never mind the kisses she needs to type the actual text first.

Y/N: and a merry christmas to you jingles. have a lovely day with your family Harry xx

He sent two kisses so she sent two kisses, that seemed a safe bet. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: When are you back in the city? Xxx

THREE KISSES!

Y/N:  i’m back on the 28th, you? :) xxx

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Crazy, me too! I’m going to hope you don’t have New Years plans yet and wanted to ask if you wanted to do something with me? Ring in the new year together? Xxx 

A second text came in before Y/N even managed to process what the first one had said. 

Harry 🧝‍♂️ 🎄: Plus I’m not going to lie, going from seeing you and spending all day every day with you to not seeing you at all today is shit and I’ve decided I hate it xxx 

Y/N:  yes!!! let’s do it, i didn’t have any plans anyway so absolutely want to spend it with you xxx 

Y/N:  p.s i hate it too :( xxx 

***

They had met outside the tube station, a warm embrace on the pavement as a greeting as they began their walk to find a spot on Primrose Hill for the night, filling each other in on what they had been up to on Christmas Day and the days since. They had both booked a few auditions for the first few weeks of January and Y/N had decided she was changing her life in the New Year and had done a massive clear out and deep clean of her flat. And Harry? Well, he’d came home from his Mum’s with a pet cat in tow, one his Mum had recently been fostering and Harry fell in love within the space of a few hours. He’d called her Jingles. 

They found a spot on Primrose Hill, both of them unpacking the bags they had brought with them. A picnic blanket each they layered on top of each other to shield their bums from the cold ground. A flask of soup and a flask of tea to keep them warm as well as some snacks and tinned cocktails to see them through the night to the bells. Harry also had a half-sized bottle of champagne tucked in his bag for them to pop at midnight. 

They spent their evening wrapped up in each other in their own little bubble getting to know one another more than they already did and as Midnight came and fireworks began to pop and sizzle in the sky and people around them waved glittering sparklers around and the nearest church bells rang signifying a new hour and a new year Harry kissed Y/N again, this time with more certainty, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the joy of being with someone who understood her completely. For the first time, in what felt like forever, Y/N realized she didn’t need anything else.

They had everything right here and they thought that was pretty magical.

[shuxiii]

yn: stay home— pham hanni

hanni pham x reader! established relationship

synopsis: yn had been wanting to go out for the night after a week of stressful office work so she decided to attend a friends party but it seemed like someone was begrudgingly opposed to that idea so hanni decided to make matters to her own hands to sabotage that.

The apartment was buzzing with the faint hum of weekend energy—the muted bassline of distant music, muffled voices echoing from the street below. yn stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, appraising her outfit with the critical eye of someone who hadn’t been to a proper party in ages. A fitted black top and her favourite pair of jeans—it wasn’t revolutionary, but it was reliable.

“You’re really going out,” Hanni’s voice cut through the room, flat and unimpressed.

yn glanced over her shoulder to find Hanni sprawled across their shared bed, her face half-buried in the pillow, dark hair sticking out in every possible direction. She looked utterly at home, her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, and her legs tucked up like she had no intention of moving for the rest of her life.

“Yes, I’m going out,” yn replied, turning back to the mirror to adjust the collar of her top. “It’s just a party, Han. I won’t be gone long.”

Hanni made a sound—a cross between a groan and a sigh—that was so dramatic it would have put a soap opera actress to shame. “You’re abandoning me.”

“Don’t be a baby,” yn said, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress a smile. “You’ll survive a few hours without me.”

“No, I won’t,” Hanni shot back, her voice muffled by the pillow. Then, suddenly, she sat up, her dark eyes narrowing like a cat spotting its prey. “In fact, I don’t think you’ll survive without me.”

yn didn’t even have time to react before Hanni launched herself off the bed with a speed and precision that could only be described as terrifyingly athletic.

“Wait—Hanni, no—”

But it was too late. Hanni tackled her mid-sentence, her arms wrapping around yn’s waist as they both toppled backward onto the bed. The impact sent the neatly folded pile of clothes on the edge of the mattress tumbling to the floor.

“Hanni!” yn protested, her voice high-pitched with a mix of laughter and exasperation.

“You’re not going!” Hanni declared, pinning yn beneath her with the determination of someone who’d just decided to stage a sit-in. “I forbid it.”

“Oh, you forbid it?” yn shot back, arching an eyebrow as she tried—and failed—to wiggle free. “And what exactly gives you the authority to forbid anything?”

Hanni grinned down at her, unrepentant. “I’m your girlfriend, duh. That’s, like, my whole job.”

“Your job is to support me, not tackle me like a linebacker.”

Hanni gasped, feigning offense. “I am supporting you! I’m supporting you by saving you from a terrible decision. Parties are overrated. They’re loud, sweaty, and full of people who think ‘vibes’ is a personality trait.”

“I don’t care about the vibes,” yn countered, still squirming beneath her. “I just want to dance and have fun for a couple of hours!”

“We can dance here,” Hanni said, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

“Oh, yeah? Are you going to DJ for me?”

Hanni smirked. “I might. I’ve got a killer playlist called ‘Certified Bangers to Stay Home To.’”

“Of course you do,” yn muttered, her voice dripping with mock disdain.

“Hanni, come on,” yn groaned, trying—and failing—to pry her off. “I told people I’d be there!”

“They’ll survive without you,” Hanni mumbled, tightening her grip. “I, however, will not.”

“I’m simply saving you from an utterly terrible decision of your life, baby,” Hanni confidently declared, no thought of letting go.

“This isn’t a decision!” yn huffed, squirming. “This is a hostage situation!”

Hanni smirked. “Call it what you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”

yn let out a long sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me,” Hanni replied, leaning down just enough to press a quick, teasing kiss to yn’s nose.

yn stopped struggling for a moment, realizing the futility of her situation. Instead, she tried a different tactic. She sighed dramatically, slumping back against the bed. “Fine. You win. I’ll stay home.”

Hanni froze, pulling back just enough to peer at yn suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” yn replied, her tone just a little too agreeable. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s order pizza or something.”

Hanni’s face lit up, her grin smug as she released yn from her grip. “That’s right. No party for you. We’re having a cozy night in.” She rolled off yn, flopping back onto the bed with an air of triumphant satisfaction.

But yn wasn’t giving up so easily.

As Hanni turned to grab her phone, presumably to start browsing for takeout, yn slid off the bed as quietly as possible. Her boots barely made a sound as she crept toward the door.

“Hanni doesn’t need to know,” she whispered under her breath.

She was almost there—her hand brushing the doorknob—when a voice rang out behind her.

“yn.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to find Hanni sitting up on the bed, her arms crossed and her expression caught somewhere between a pout and a glare.

“You lied to me!” Hanni accused, pointing dramatically.

“Hanni, I—”

“Don’t even try it,” Hanni interrupted, sliding off the bed with a speed that was honestly a little terrifying. Before yn could react, Hanni had crossed the room and wrapped herself around yn like an octopus, her head resting firmly on yn’s shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let me go!” yn protested, laughing despite herself.

“Nope!” Hanni said, her voice muffled against yn’s neck. “You lied to me. Now you have to stay. Permanently.”

“Hanni, this is absurd!”

“So is leaving me for a party,” Hanni shot back, tightening her grip.

yn huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she let herself relax into Hanni’s hold, realizing she wasn’t getting out of this any time soon. Every time she so much as shifted, Hanni’s grip tightened like a vice. Escape was futile.

Eventually, yn gave up entirely, letting her head fall against Hanni’s shoulder. “You win. I’m staying.”

“Good,” Hanni happily said, kissing you on the cheek, grabbing the nearest blanket and draping it over them both. “Now, pizza or ramen?”

“I hate you,” yn muttered, though her tone was light.

“No, you don’t,” Hanni replied, nuzzling her cheek against yn’s. “You love me. And now you’re stuck with me all night.”

And she was. No party, no dancing, just Hanni holding her hostage on the bed for the rest of the evening. By the time the pizza arrived, yn had to admit—staying home wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But she wasn’t about to let Hanni know that.

[carryonafi]

keep my stocking filled.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT

a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas to my loves who celebrate 🤍 i hope your holiday season is going wonderful so far, i’m here to give you my gift to all of you for being so patient with my crazy posting schedule. i’m not the most consistent, but you’ve all been so wonderful either way. this year has been crazy and i think the perfect way to end it is with some fluffy, lovey ashton smut. enjoy!!

words: 3.1k

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆ ⁀➷

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The first thing you did that morning was snatch your phone off of the bedside table and open up your emails and search for the long awaited confirmation you were looking for.

“Your order has been shipped”

You smiled to yourself, clicking the link that brought you to the tracking page and seeing that it was on its way.

“Package has arrived at carrier office”

Some of the most exciting news you could get, it kept you bouncing around the house until the hour it got to your doorstep. The squeal of excitement you let out made you glad that you were by yourself in the empty house.

What was concealed behind the dull cardboard was the brightest piece of lingerie you could ever own. Red satin with ties for the front and instructions on how to tie the panels together in a bow shape, but was also easily taken apart. The two little cats you had together, Beans and Toast were meowing curiously and already occupying the box. This was your Christmas present a few years ago, Ashton suggested he go through immunotherapy before you moved in together so you didn’t have to get rid of your babies.

“got a present for you when you get home ;)”

Your fingers glide across the keyboard of your phone like they never have before, quickly sending a text to your boyfriend with a picture of the Christmas tree you had set up and a small peek of the red silk just barely in the corner of the photo. What sparked the idea for you to buy this in the first place was the first reaction you got from Ashton seeing you in a matching piece specifically designed for being sexy, not just some undergarments, you bought and wore them with purpose. So now, it was time to add to the collection. There would be nothing like seeing his eyes sparkle so intensely when he got to unwrap that bow.

“It better be you sitting under that tree.”

“… Preferably with no clothes on. xx”

He replied back with a red heart emoji following his second text message, you giggled to yourself before typing again.

“even better”

You said with a heart of your own, then set off on your mission to try on the lingerie and practice tying the knot a few times until it was perfect. Now a waiting game, trying not to be too impatient for Ashton’s arrival. The ribbon stayed tied, wandering around with it but also making sure it was easy to come apart.

—

The moment finally came where you were covered up in a fluffy black robe, standing at the counter while trying to place some saran wrap over a batch of brownies you made just moments prior. The front door camera notification came up on your phone and you could hear the eager clicking of the front door, you had to hold back turning to look over your shoulder. When you heard his hushed voice speaking to the cats and the door shut once again, your heart skipped a beat… but god it seemed like so many.

You held your breath, but after hours of waiting you felt Ashton’s strong arms wrap around your middle from behind. He leaned his body weight against you, pressing your frame into the counter as you giggled quietly. Ashton was cold, the fabric of his jacket wasn’t too heated but you could still feel the chill sink through the fluff of your robe.

“Hi.” You said simply, gently pushing the tray of brownies off to the side and turning around with what little room you had to face him. Your arms draped lazily over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck and lightly grazing the tufts of hair which poked out from his beanie.

“Hey, baby.” Ashton replied in this relieved tone of voice that had you blushing in seconds, the brown curls of his hair laid over one eye.. but you couldn’t bring yourself to push it away.

“Felt like forever you were gone.” You breathed, pressing your forehead to his just as he briefly reached up to take off his beanie and return his hand to your waist.

“It was forever, I missed you.” He didn’t bother ruffling his hair to fix it, but instead pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips while his hands massaged your hips in slow circles. You spent a few moments like this, basking in each other’s presence which doubled as warming him up due to being out in the cold. It wasn’t very long until Ashton was sliding his hands back to the front of your robe to try and undo the knot, but you hurried to stop him.

“Hold on.” You had a hand on his chest, meanwhile his eyes drew shapes all over what skin you had exposed… but he was confused. “Go to the couch.” You instructed him quietly, watching as he slowly pulled away from you and raised his eyebrows. At this point you were grinning wildly, following close behind as Ashton wandered through the open kitchen over to the sectional sofa in the living room. Now the cats were preoccupied with something else, whatever it was, you were glad that you didn’t have to shut yourselves off in the bedroom to avoid the awkwardness of two little faces staring at you.

“The anticipation is killing me.” Ashton sighed, settling into the couch and looking back at you still standing behind him. Your manicured fingertip traced the soft linen of the blanket draped across the cushions, walking around the furniture. His gaze never once broke from your sauntering figure, taking a deep, silent breath as his tongue ran over his bottom lip.

“You waited for me all day, you can wait a few more seconds.” You giggled at him, eliciting a whine of your name past that pink pout which you longed to kiss again. Finally, you stood between his knees where his legs were spread wide off of the couch cushions, socks planted firmly on the floor so you had a comfortable place to stand. “Wanna see?” You began taunting the tie to your robe with your fingers, slipping your index in the knot to loosen it further.

“Come on.” He frowned, his flaming eyes burning into yours as you finally gave into the temptation and let the tie fall loose. The robe was now slightly hung to the side as it slid from your shoulders, left first, then right, then a light thud as it hit the carpet. Ashton was in awe, reaching out to run his hands along the sweet satin bottoms and the stitch where they met your bare skin. Another shy giggle slipped past your lips when his touch tickled you and made you squirm, forming into a hum as Ashton firmly placed both hands on your hips to hold you in place.

“Was it worth the wait?” You asked, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth just while your hands fixed themselves in his hair.

“Fucking was it…” Ashton breathed, pulling you closer and motioning for you to get in his lap, to which you obeyed immediately. “How do I enjoy this properly?” He whispered, keeping eye contact as he pressed a kiss to your chest right above the center of the bow.

“That’s your choice, make Christmas your own.” You giggled, gasping once the position changed and you were on your back against the soft couch cushions. Ashton seemed to take it as a challenge, his finger hooked in the knot of the bow with a few more kisses along your collarbones… then he stopped.

“Not yet.” He muttered to himself, the movement of his lips against your skin made you sigh.

It was the warmth of the house, the smell of that sweet cookie scented candle on the coffee table and the lotion that you had put on after washing your hands while handling the brownies. Underneath the festive atmosphere was your erotic scene on the couch, Ashton’s lips had somehow reached every inch of your skin that wasn’t concealed by the satin. He blew a playful raspberry against the flesh of your hip, you gave a squeal of laughter accompanying the kicking of your legs.

“Ash!” You giggled, Ashton used this opportunity to firmly grip your thighs and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“Can’t resist you, you smell like fuckin’ cookies.” He grinned back at you, his fingers hooking in the nice trim waistband of your panties.

“Well I tried to go for vanilla… it’s the lotion you got me.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your forearms as you looked down at his smiling face.

“Hm, it only means you smell good enough to eat.” Ashton started to pull your panties down, only teasing himself as you lifted your hips to help him.

“Is that what you’re gonna do to me?”

“Mmhmm. Lay down.” Ashton mumbled against your hip, one hand moving up your core to gently press down. So you gave in and laid down all the way with a soft smile on your face, the lace was finally gone and Ashton was back to kissing you. He traced shapes on your inner thighs, hips and lower stomach, just teasing and making you arch into his touch.

“You’re so gorgeous, do you know how gorgeous you are?”

“Shut up,” you whined. Ashton’s lips got way too close to your core too many times for you to count, you weren’t going to wait much longer.

“That’s not nice, I thought this was my gift…” He squeezed your thighs and hid his smile behind another few kisses, but no response came to mind so all you did was huff and lay your head back again.

Finally, just finally after a tug on his hair Ashton pressed his lips to your entrance and kissed again. Not much, but close.

“Oh my god…” You choked out in half frustration, but Ashton was getting the hint and picking up the slack. His tongue moved tentatively, fingertips leaving rough indents in your thighs as he buried himself in your heat. Those frustrated groans melted away, he had you moaning and arching your back to get more and more out of him. Ashton obeyed with every cue, never letting go of your legs for a second… something in you gave a slight feeling that he wouldn’t be done with you after this.

Ashton was a man on a mission, not giving a single thought to the way his stubble might start to rough up your inner thighs due to his aggression, not like it was a problem. The problem was that it drove you further to your finish, making the moment shorter.

“W— Wait! No… not yet—“ You gasped, trying hard to tug on Ashton’s hair and pull him off. He didn’t relent, he kept going until you were holding it in and finally letting the overstimulation crash down. Ashton was clearly enjoying it, he groaned with satisfaction at your taste and slowed down to guide you through that orgasm. When he poked his head up, he had this cheeky little smile on his face. The one where his dimples showed, the one that made you smile back despite how breathless you were.

“I think I’m going to unwrap my present now…” He hummed, his hands following the curves of your sides. You were about to speak, but he shook his head. “And don’t you say anything either, I’m taking my time.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “So much drama.”

“Mhm.” Ashton hummed to shut you up, leaning down over your quivering form to kiss you softly, stark in contrast to how he was just using his mouth moments before. His fingers played with the bow, running his fingertips over the knot and giving it a playful tug. He had to stop kissing you in order to focus on the bow, his eyes darting down to pull it loose with bated breath. The bottom hem stayed around you, which meant he had to carefully unclip the front as well.

“Merry Christmas.” You giggled at the childlike wonder on his face, his eyes roaming over your body and taking in every small detail.

“Best present ever, you’re just… always the best,” Ashton was fumbling, it was so cute… you laughed again and shook your head.

“Don’t make this sappy, we’ll be sappy tomorrow.” You sealed that promise with another kiss to his lips, and he came back with another.

“I can be sappy and fuck you into the couch, don’t you know how good at multitasking I am?” He sassed, nudging his nose against yours as your hands ran over his jaw and gently scratched his cheeks.

“I guess you have to be if…” You looked down, his belt was undone and his jeans were to his knees. The only telling sign of this was how much he was moving around to get them down.

“Merry Christmas.” Ashton mocked you, he grunted once he earned a playful smack to the chest.

“I don’t see a fancy bow down there.” It was your turn to sass back, but no matter how much you bickered or teased each other, nothing was bumpy. It was all smooth sailing and you moved along just like normal, Ashton was very good at multitasking, since his boxers were gone in a few seconds as well.

“I said I’m good at multitasking, not this whole… show like you put on.” He propped one hand next to your head, but his statement made you laugh before realizing he had just slipped between your legs in one motion. You choked out a breath in the middle of your giggling, eyes closing as you got used to the feeling.

“Oh—! F.. Fuck you…” This had to have been the second time that he caught you off guard, Ashton smiled that mischievous little smile again and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry, precious.” He whispered, continuing those kisses on your cheek and along your jaw. You gasped as he moved his hips a bit further, hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly and digging into his shirt.

“Mh, take it off— take it off.” You pleaded, Ashton obeyed and practically tore his shirt off over his head, immediately getting back into position. Thank god, was all you could think. Your hands returned to his shoulders, drifting towards his collarbones as Ashton started to thrust and thoroughly pleasure you. He made a sound, like a quiet growl against your neck with both hands planted firmly on the couch cushions. Whatever it was, it was hot and got you moaning back in response.

“Squeezin’ me, baby. Like I’ve never fucked you before.” He muttered, latching onto your pulse point to muffle a moan. The only lights that were on were the Christmas lights and the ones above the kitchen counter, the living room only holding a soft glow which made the contours of Ashton’s back and shoulders look delectable.

“I… I really love you,” You whimpered, trying to speak but each thrust almost made you unable to form a coherent sentence.

“‘M trying to dirty talk over here, baby. Thought you said no getting sappy?” Ashton smiled against your neck, nibbling at your skin to make you stumble over your words again.

“Wasn’t… hm— jus’ say it back.” You protested, your nails leaving scratch marks down his chest as you gathered enough strength to hoist your legs up a bit higher around his waist.

“I know, I know… I love you too.” Ashton whispered, his own words failing to sound out together. His breathing picked up, hot against your neck as did the pistoning of his hips.

You were left in a haze, tilting your head to bury your face in Ashton’s hair and moaning against those soft, sandalwood scented curls. Just a little more, you begged him quietly for just a little more to get you through to your second orgasm.

“Ashton…” You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck as he left you with no choice, his chest was pressed to yours so he could whisper in your ear.

“Shh, let it go.” He kissed your hair, his hips stuttering. “I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart, Paint my pretty girl white, how does that sound?” Ashton cooed in that tone that had you melting, you were putty in his hands as you whined and came around his cock. That delicious pulse inside you, you knew he would keep his promise. He smiled like you had just made him proud, straightening his arms and pushing himself up. “My good girl. I won’t make you flip over, as long as you promise to look at me.”

“I promise,” you whimpered, maintaining eye contact as Ashton pulled out. You let out another sound at the loss, but quickly brought back on track as he cupped your face and wrapped a firm hand around his shaft.

“Stay just like that, exactly, look at you…” He praised, chest heaving with each labored breath he took. The sight of your flushed cheeks and watering eyes drove him mad. Plump, kiss swollen lips that he had bruised from his affection, it all made him feel so possessive. With one final moan he covered your torso in his release, making sure you got every drop as the warmth made you shiver. Ashton got down again to kiss you one last time, to claim those gorgeous pink lips and securely wrap both arms around you. Just a bit ago you were so well put together all for him, it was quite award winning to see you such a mess after he was finished with you.

“This is what I like to see…” Ashton hummed, suckling on your jaw and leaving one last dark mark of his property. You were still in a bit of a daze, only speaking when he pulled away to look at you.

“Merry Christmas?” You giggled, having said that for the 5th time tonight. Ashton laughed along with you and helped you adjust your position on the couch so you were both lying comfortably.

“You got any more fun surprises for me?” He traced your cheekbone. You tapped your chin playfully, looking up at the ceiling.

“Mm… the brownies are done?” You offered, that got Ashton hooked.

“Okay, okay. Let’s lay here for just another minute.” He promised, having to reel himself in from the temptation of brownies as you laughed at him and held him a bit closer than before. It was too nice and warm to leave your cocoon under the Christmas lights, apparently, the chocolate wasn’t tempting enough.

[sulumuns-dootah]

26. 12. Asmodeus - Wrapped like a gift (18+)

     ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

⋆꙳·❅‧The Yule festival of Hell 2‧❆ ₊⋆

A/N: The ending eludes to Y/N without a dick, but can be read even if you have one (just squint your eyes at one point)

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

     ༺☆༻

The more you walk through the Abaddon castle towards Asmodeus' rooms, the more your intuition tells you that you shouldn't. There's something really unnerving about the message he's sent you:

'Y/N! Come get your Christmas gift! You'll find it on my bed ;)'

The winking emoji already had you slightly suspicious and then when all your texts inquiring about more info of the gift's nature went unanswered, the feeling of you being set up to meet your doom really set in.

By the time you reach the master bedroom door, your heart is anxiously trying to beat its way out through your ribcage.

As you're about to knock on the heavy door, a note attached to the handle by a ribbon catches your attention. The writing is in the most beautiful cursive – presumably Asmo's handwriting.

'No need to knock, just enter. I'm waiting ;)'

That emoji again. You really should turn around and call one of the other kings to come and get you out of here, but instead you take a deep breath and reach out for the handle, like the note instructed.

Slowly opening the tall door, you first see a dimly lit room full of lit candles. Stepping into the room, you see more and more of them until finally, your eyes land on the centerpiece of the whole fire hazard.

The master bed is adorned by many satin-covered pillows, which look like they're glowing in the candle flame light. And there, amidst all the glowing fabric and scattered red rose petals is Asmodeus.

He's naked, kneeling and fully restrained with his hands securely bound behind his back by ribbons. A whimper of proud obedience leaves his gagged mouth as your eyes scan his form from the top of his pitch black hair all the way down to the bow tied around the base of his very hard dick with the words 'Free use' above it in a similar fashion to Beelzebub's tattoos.

“A-asmo...?!” you exclaim in a surprise and the demon cockily smiles around the ball in his mouth while thrusting a few times into the air as if to entice you to take the opportunity to do anything with him.

You're not gonna lie, this display ignites something dangerous inside you and you yourself don't really know what might happen in the next few hours.

Only after taking a few steps towards the bed while shedding all the extra layers you're not going to need for the rest of your time here, you notice all the laid out pleasure and/or pain toys.

“Nnnghh...~!” Asmodeus impatiently whimpers with his eyes slightly rolling back, as if just your presence was enough to get him off.

You take a deep breath, partially to calm your nerves but to also stop so many ideas popping up at once.

Standing a the foot of the bed, you contemplate your first course of action with some soft humming. One part of you wants to tease him until he's unable to take it anymore and the other wants to overstimulate him.

Another impatient groan with more pathetic air thrusts interrupts your decision-making and without even thinking, you pick up the leather whip and land a few hits on one of the demon's inner thighs, “Shush... I'm still deciding.”

“Haa~!” the sudden pain makes Asmodeus moan out as his dick twitches a few times, clearly becoming desperate for any sort of stimulation. It doesn't escape you that so little was already enough for him to start producing precum, which was now lazily running down his entire length and dripping underneath him onto the satin sheet.

“I wonder... What would happen if I just left you like this... All needy for me, expecting me to pounce on you, but I don't...” you question, more as a thinking out loud since he can't really answer you much.

'Then you'd make the biggest mistake, I'll take great joy in reminding you of all the time.' a threat in a playful tone enters your mind, sounding as if Asmodeus whispered it right into your ear. Judging by the cocky smirk that's molded around the plastic ball in his mouth, it was the demon talking to you in your head. Does that also mean he can read your thoughts, then?

“Hm...” you look back down at the array of toys at your disposal. A feather duster, candle with ligther, leather whip, chain attachment for the choker he's wearing, paddle, dagger and...

Finally, your eyes land on the strap on with an attachment resembling Asmo's very own throbbing length next to a strip of black satin – presumably intended to be a blindfold. A low chuckle vibrates in your throat as a very fun way to enjoy your gift comes into your mind.

With a swift movement you snatch the cold fabric and walk around the bed to kneel behind the nicely presented demon. A shaky breath leaves his gagged lips as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, but to his disappointment, after that you're immediately getting off the bed again and walking off.

He can't see it anymore, but you're actually putting on the harness and attaching the rather disproportionate dick onto your body. On the way back to your original position the chain lead catches your eye and you take it with you.

Asmo hates to admit it to himself, but being someone else's bitch excites him as long as it's you. Still, not being able to see makes him feel on a very thrilling edge. His hearing is good, but the way you're too quiet while moving around his room is a bit unnerving to him.

The demon's head whips to the side when you get back onto the bed. With a gentle hand you guide his chin up so you can attach the chain's clasp.

By pulling on the chain, you pull Asmodeus backwards until his head is on your shoulder as you whisper right into his ear, while rubbing your borrowed dick against his ass, “Tell me, bitchboy... Has anybody else ever given you a good prostate orgasm?”

     ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Ahahah, my pretty little bitch... There's yet so much for you to experience and I am more than happy to guide you through all these new things, huhu..."

[aitheria]

Christmas Plans

Momo and you hosted a Christmas party for her coworkers, little did you know Aizen had his own plans this holiday season

Tags: NSFW, Modern AU, Aizen x Fem!Reader, slight manipulation, oral (fem recieving), biting, mild alcohol abuse, spanking, slight degradation Aizen is slight yandere? Aizen is slightly OOC? unprotected sex,fingering, slight praise kink am I doing these tags right??

This was not how the department director of a Fortune 500 company usually spent his Christmas but here he was, peering over his glasses at the pretty little present before him all wrapped in smiles and obliviousness.

It all started when he purposely left his computer screen up on his desk, he had spent a few minutes Googling “Christmas party ideas”. His receptionist couldn’t help herself when she peered over his shoulder and asked “Would you like to have a holiday party, boss?”. Aizen looked up at Momo, her brown eyes sparkling and eager to please. He quite liked her, her naïve nature was just so lovely.

“Hm? Oh no I couldn’t, I likely have work to do” he stated, feigning a laugh and pushing his glasses back up his nose. Momo stood back, the determination on her face said it all.

“No I’ll invite everyone in the office over! Me and (y/n) can probably host everyone in the apartment… it’ll be so much fun!”. Before Aizen could protest Momo ran off to tell everyone in the department about the Christmas Eve party, just as planned.

The cream cashmere sweater was a bit too hot in the 2-bedroom apartment that was packed with far too many coworkers. He sipped on his sake, feeling the warmth soothe his agitation. This was taking too long, the giggling, the gossip and the stupid party games Renji brought were juvenile. At least he learned you were bad at games of chance, he tucked that tidbit away for later.

The drinking was getting heavier as the night dragged on, Gin had brought over an entire liquor store, bought on his credit card of course. He watched you sipping the wine, giggling with Momo over a stuffed animal Rangiku had bought you. It was ugly but you held it close to your chest with pride even as the others teased you.

Aizen glared at his watch, willing this to go just a bit quicker, between the wait he plastered that small smile he always wore and hunched his shoulders listening to the others talk to him. He was even pulled into a few drinking games; Momo had lost terribly. Just as planned.

Tosen had been the first to leave prompting everyone to look at their cellphones and complain about the late hour, snow was falling now on the city and some needed to take a taxi or train back. Rangiku was hanging on you, snuggled up to your chest. The black sweater dress you wore was riding up ever so slightly from your seat on the floor and Aizen couldn’t stop himself from licking his bottom lip.

“C’mere let’s go now” Gin dragged up Rangiku from the floor into his arms. “Is ‘bout time we get goin’ is late. Right boss?” he smiled up at Aizen, the wicked little secret passed between them.

 “Ah you’re right...” Aizen began “I’ll be leaving shortly, I just want to make sure Miss Hinamori is alright, you two leave first” Aizen practically shoved them out the apartment door, waving goodbye before shutting and locking it.

“You can go” you stood up, cheeks flushed, you pulled down your dress staring at the disarray of the apartment, the music still blasting in the background. “I can take care of her, I’ve seen her worse” you hiccupped.

 Aizen’s chest ached at how you looked at your friend, he hated having to see you share that smile with anyone but him. He had met you when he met Momo, you sat in the lobby while she had her last interview. Aizen remembers your soft lips and hair shining like an Angel’s halo in the sunlight of the lobby, how your hips moved when you walked through the door spilling your words of encouragement to your friend, how your voice made him stop in his tracks.

He called Momo fifty-three seconds after that telling her she was hired.

“I can help pick up, she hosted this at my behest” Aizen stated, arms open feigning friendliness, convincing you was the hardest part of this plan.

You sighed, covering your friend with a blanket, putting a pillow under her head after getting her up onto the couch.

“She talks about you so much y’know, Boss this and that let’s give him a good Christmas. She worked overtime to buy you that scarf there, isn’t that sweet?” you pressed, Aizen knew this game well. The game of a friend trying to set up the other one with their crush, too bad it wouldn’t end that way.

Aizen stepped closer, setting the scarf on the dining room table. “And you? What gift did you get me?” He rose a brow, setting the trap.

“Me?” you scoffed “You weren’t the Secret Santa I chose I am not understanding“ your eyebrows knit together, trying to think with the buzz of alcohol clouding your judgement. Aizen was close enough to grab you then, his hand slid up your forearm.

“She lovingly gave me a Christmas party but I’m really hoping I could get something from you...” he looked into your eyes, noting how your lips parted unintentionally.

“I haven’t had such a fun Christmas before (y/n) I was just thinking of how you could make it magical as they say” his breath fanned over your face, as he gripped your wrist softly, tracing a finger over your pulse.

It was running like a rabbits, good.

“Ai-Aizen we shouldn’t! Momo is here and she’s the one who-“your words were stopped when he kissed you. Softly at first, bringing his other hand to hold your head still while he ran his tongue over your teeth and pushed his way into your mouth.

This was taking too long, and he was getting bored.

He pulled away, watching you gasp for air. You look frazzled and confused when you looked between him and the innocent sleeping on the couch. “We should stop...” you began but Aizen pulled you by the arm to your bedroom, he tossed you on your bed and shut the door behind him.

He noted that on your dresser is where the Christmas radio was playing, he turned it up a bit.

You sat up then, more sober than before “this isn’t funny Aizen, I know you’re her boss but not mine” you glared at him, cute he thought.

“I know you’re recently single, this is a mutual benefit. I’m sure your pussy aches for some cock” his words were blunt, but they had the right effect as you flushed red.

“That’s not appropriate stop this” you argued but he pushed you back down, his body covering yours. His hands already pulling at the tights you had on, his nails making crescents in your skin.

“I never said I was on the nice list and judging by the look of it neither are you” Aizen whispered into the crook of your neck, leaving bruising bites and kisses. You smelt so good, your skin tasted so sweet and your soft moans were almost enough to send him over the edge.

He sat back then, spreading your legs and ripping the pantyhose right over your crotch. The small wet spot there was just as planned.

“I’m going to open my gift now” he mused, pulling off his glasses and pushing a hand through his hair. He pulled your panties to the side before taking a taste, at the flick of his tongue you moaned.

“Stop wa-wait!” you tried to pull your legs back together to no avail he was ravishing you. How many times had he stroked his cock to this exact scene? The tears in your eyes made him so impossibly hard, he could barely contain himself.

He worked on your clit while pushing one finger inside of you, each swirl of his tongue over that bundle of nerves caused you to shiver involuntarily. He inserted another finger in you, scissoring and pumping slowly.

“Aizen please...” you hiccupped.

“It’s Sosuke” he pulled back giving your pussy a slap “try again, love”

It took a few slaps and a harsh bite to your inner thigh before you moaned his name. “I’m cumming Sosuke fuck fuck” you cried as he lapped at you, a man quenching his thirst.

He wanted you to taste yourself on his lips, his fingers. He came up and kissed you first, then forced his digits into your mouth to lick and suck clean.

“What a naughty girl, letting her best friends crush fuck her, a depraved slut” he kissed your forehead tenderly something about that defeated little stare of yours had him drunk on lust.

He lifted up the hem of your dress, peeling it off completely. He ran a hand over your breasts unclasping the bra with practiced ease. His long fingers played with a nipple, the other hard bud tasted so good between his teeth. You moaned in pain something between that and pleasure, the exact place he wanted you.

He sat back admiring his work along your body, he didn’t know the time but it had to have been late. He had bitten, kissed or bruised enough of you that you wouldn’t be able to hide the marks, his personal wrapping paper. Just as planned

“You gave me such a lovely gift (y/n) should I return the favor?” he murmured in your ear, as you tried to squirm away.

“Ah...we don’t do that” Aizen gripped your neck tightly till you obeyed and looked at him.

“Look at me love, I want to give you your Christmas present now watch” he smiled then, eyes cruel with amusement and lust watching you watch him strip.

His cock stood hard and straight, pre cum leaking. He watched it sink into eyes, the sight of the inevitable.

“Spread them” he commanded, pulling your legs apart when you took too long. The sweat ran across your brow, your breasts rose with your heart rate and a shiver ran down your spine.

Aizen couldn’t think of a sight more beautiful than the snow falling behind you out the bedroom window and your body. He watched the snow fall as he thrust into you.

“Fuuuuck” he growled low as your pussy clenched around him, he sat still for a moment letting himself adjust to how tight you were before he set his pace.

“It hurts” you panted staring up at him “please it -ah!ah!” you began to scream as he put a hand over your mouth.

“Whores don’t get to cry, enjoy it” Aizen glared down at you, your pussy clenching around him each time he pulled out and shoved himself back in. He had another idea in his head though, how he wanted to fuck you.

He pulled out and flipped you around. Your soaked pussy leaked, glistening in the dimness of the room.

“Aizen...?” your head peeked up, looking back, questioning if this was over. Just as planned.

Aizen rubbed the head against your pussy, feeling your shiver. He had your arms behind your back, both wrists under one hand.

“Beg” he commanded

“I-I” you began as a slap hit your ass.

“I -I” he mocked “Beg, don’t make me repeat myself. I am just trying to give you your gift” he feigned a hurt tone. You wiggled your hips for a minute before surrendering your pride.

“Please give me my Christmas present” slap! He smacked your ass again and you whimpered. “You’re missing a part” he scolded.

“Please... Sosuke?” you guessed correct as he pushed himself all the way inside, he mentally complimented himself for turning up the radio, your moans mixed with the music in his ears.

“Good girl, that’s right take my cock” he pushed into you, unrelenting. A bead of sweat ran down his face, he leaned forward to push your face into the pillows. Your hips began pushing back then, ruining the rhythm but giving him he win.

“Are you enjoying it (y/n)? I picked it out just for you, planned a whole fucking month for this sat here and drank shitty liquor-“Aizen rambled on, he knew you were too fucked out to care but someone had to hear him.

“Love it s'much” you cried, drool dribbling down your chin as you looked back at him, his game was almost over.

“Hold on just a bit more, I’ll let you cum again for being a good girl let you cum on my hah cock” he was so close, he licked his lips giving a few final thrusts and leaning forward to rub your clit.

You instantly gripped the pillows, hands free “pleasee” you begged feeling his cock twitch. You finished first, your pussy convulsing around his cock as he released inside of you.

Aizen pulled out after he grew softer, but not before marking up your back side. He didn't care to clean you up either, the fun was over.

“Hmm… you may have received two presents (y/n) such a lucky girl” he grabbed your face leaving once last bruising kiss on your sleeping lips. Then he reached to put on his glasses and fix his hair, he mulled it over for a moment before taking a picture of your beautiful, ruined body.

click!

He tidied himself and left Momo and you both asleep in your bed. Locking the door behind him as he walked into the chilly December night.

Just as planned.

(I also want to believe this asshole ripped up the stuffed animal before leaving just to be mean and petty)

[bigboysfalldeep]

cycling gear

The early morning sunlight streamed through Mike’s window, casting warm golden hues across his bedroom. He stood in front of the mirror, examining his reflection as he pulled on his new cycling jersey. The tight, silky fabric clung to his athletic frame like a second skin, every line and curve of his body accentuated. He adjusted the fit, smoothing it over his chest and down to his hips, his hands moving with meticulous care.

The jersey was new—carbon black with white stripes accents that streaked along the sides, giving it a sleek, aerodynamic look. Mike had always loved the feel of high-performance cycling gear; it made him feel alive, like he was part of the road itself. Today, however, the familiar sensation was different. There was a warmth in the way the fabric hugged him, a faint tingling that started at his chest and radiated outward. He chalked it up to excitement.

Carlos sat on the edge of Mike’s bed, his own gear already on—deep blue with silver streaks that matched his sharp, focused demeanor. He had been quiet as Mike dressed, his gaze steady and unwavering. Carlos had always been like that: confident, self-assured, with an intensity that drew people in. They’d met a few weeks ago during a long ride through the hills, bonding over their shared love of cycling and the thrill of the open road. Since then, their weekend rides had become a ritual, and they often spent hours pushing each other to their limits.

"You almost ready?" Carlos asked, his voice low and steady. There was something in his tone—something calm yet electric—that made Mike pause.

"Almost," Mike replied, his voice slightly breathless as he zipped up the jersey. The tingling sensation surged, spreading across his chest and down his arms, like an invisible current tracing his veins. His mind went blank as he ran a hand across his chest instinctively, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the taut fabric. The motion sent another rush through him, his fingers trembling slightly as they lingered.

“Mike? You okay?” Carlos’s voice was steady, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—concern, curiosity, or something else entirely.

“Yeah, I- I'm.... fine,” Mike muttered. He ran a hand across his chest, the fabric of the jersey cool beneath his fingertips. But the sensation was electric, sending a shiver down his spine.

Carlos stepped closer, his brow furrowing. “You sure? You look… different today.”

Mike glanced at him, his mouth dry. He tried to speak, but his thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. His hand drifted over his chest again, almost of its own accord, tracing the contours of his pecs. The tingling was overwhelming now, spreading through his body, clouding his mind.

“Mike,” Carlos said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. His touch was firm, grounding. “Doesn’t it feel good? To give in?”

Mike’s head tilted, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. He wanted to respond, to ask what Carlos meant, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a soft sigh escaped him, and he felt his body relax, leaning slightly into Carlos’s touch.

Carlos’s hand slid down to Mike’s chest, his fingers brushing over the taut fabric of the jersey. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You look sharp in your gear. I couldn’t resist.”

A flicker of confusion passed through Mike’s mind, but it was quickly drowned out by the wave of warmth and pleasure coursing through him. He felt Carlos’s hand move in slow, deliberate circles, his touch both comforting and electrifying.

For weeks, Carlos had been subtly planting the idea in Mike’s mind, steering their conversations, guiding their interactions. It had started with innocent compliments, the casual touch of a hand on a shoulder or back, and the shared thrill of their rides. Slowly, he’d woven a web of trust and subtle suggestion, waiting for the moment when Mike would be ready to let go.

Mike’s breath hitched as Carlos’s hand pressed gently against his chest. “You’ve worked so hard to get here,” Carlos whispered. “To become the best version of yourself. Don’t fight it. Just… feel.”

The words sank into Mike’s mind like stones in a pond, rippling through the fog of his thoughts. His body responded instinctively, leaning further into Carlos, seeking more of that grounding touch. A soft sound—half moan, half sigh—escaped his lips, and he felt a bead of saliva slip past the corner of his mouth.

Carlos chuckled, his tone warm and indulgent. “That’s it. Just let go. Trust me.”

Mike’s hands hung limply at his sides, his body pliant under Carlos’s guidance. He barely registered the world around him, his focus narrowing to the sensations flooding his senses: the tight embrace of his cycling gear, the warmth of Carlos’s hand, and the soothing rhythm of his voice.

“You’re perfect,” Carlos murmured, his hand moving to cup Mike’s jaw, tilting his head up so their eyes met. “Exactly as you should be.”

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Mike’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath shallow and uneven. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, he felt a surge of clarity—a sense of rightness he couldn’t explain.

Mike stood frozen, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath as Carlos’s hands roamed over his body. The firm press of Carlos’s palm on his chest felt impossibly intense, like a flame stoking embers just beneath his skin. Mike’s head tipped back slightly, his lips parted as the sensation deepened, spreading from his chest to his arms, shoulders, and biceps.

Carlos’s touch was deliberate, lingering as his fingers traced the curves of Mike’s muscles through the taut fabric of his cycling gear. “You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?” Carlos murmured, his voice low and velvety. “All those rides, pushing your limits, building this incredible body. And now, here you are. My perfect cyclist.”

Mike’s mind swirled, his thoughts a jumbled mess as the tingling sensation intensified. He barely registered Carlos’s words, but they sank into him nonetheless, feeding the warmth that radiated through his body.

Carlos’s hands slid back to Mike’s shoulders, squeezing them firmly before moving down to his biceps, caressing the tense muscles as if he owned them. “That’s a good boy, Mike,” Carlos whispered, his tone both soothing and commanding. “Let the tingling spread. Let it take over.”

Mike’s breath hitched as Carlos’s hands moved back to his chest, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of his jersey. The tight gear seemed to amplify every touch, every movement, sending waves of heat coursing through him. His body felt both tense and relaxed, caught in a strange limbo between resistance and surrender.

“Feel your gear,” Carlos coaxed, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Feel your body. The way it moves, the way it reacts. You can’t fight it, can you? It feels too good.”

Mike’s knees wobbled slightly, and he let out a soft, involuntary moan. Carlos chuckled, his hands moving lower, grazing Mike’s waist before settling firmly on his hips. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Mike’s ear. “Oh?” Carlos’s voice held a teasing edge. “Someone’s enjoying himself, huh?”

Mike blinked, his eyes heavy-lidded as Carlos stepped back slightly, his gaze dropping to the unmistakable strain in the front of Mike’s tight cycling shorts. The fabric left little to the imagination, and Mike’s arousal was impossible to ignore.

Carlos grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and satisfaction. “Your gear can’t hide your excitement, Mike. Looks like you’re really feeling it now.”

Mike’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and helplessness washing over him. He tried to move, to say something, but his body refused to obey. Carlos reached out, his hand cupping Mike’s face possessively, tilting it upward so their eyes met.

“There’s no need to be shy,” Carlos murmured, his thumb brushing over Mike’s cheek. “This is exactly where you’re meant to be. Exactly who you’re meant to be.”

Mike’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath shallow as Carlos’s words seeped into his mind, soothing and intoxicating. The world around him faded, leaving only the sensation of Carlos’s touch, the warmth of his gaze, and the unrelenting tension in his body.

“Good boy,” Carlos said again, his voice soft but firm. His thumb traced the curve of Mike’s jaw before sliding down to press lightly against his bottom lip. “Just let go. Trust me. Let it all take over.”

Mike’s lips trembled, a small, breathy sound escaping him as he leaned into Carlos’s touch. The tingling warmth inside him swelled, washing away the last traces of resistance. His body felt alive, every nerve humming with sensation as Carlos continued to caress him, guiding him deeper into the moment.

Carlos’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident as he stroked Mike’s cheek, his hand lingering possessively. “That’s it, Mike,” he whispered. “You’re perfect. My perfect boy.”

Carlos’s fingers trailed along Mike’s jawline, tracing the soft curve of his lips with an intimacy that made Mike shudder. His touch was slow, deliberate, lingering just enough to send a fresh wave of tingling heat coursing through Mike’s body. Carlos’s thumb brushed over Mike’s bottom lip, pressing lightly, as if testing his resolve.

“You feel that?” Carlos whispered, his voice low and commanding. “That pull? That need? Be a good boy, Mike. Submit fully. Let it all go.”

Mike’s breath hitched, his lips parting slightly under Carlos’s thumb. He wanted to resist, to pull away, but his body betrayed him, leaning into Carlos’s touch instead. The faint stubble on Mike’s chin scraped lightly against Carlos’s fingertips as they traveled upward, tracing the line of his cheekbone, brushing over his temple with an almost reverent touch.

“Good boy,” Carlos murmured, his dark eyes locked on Mike’s. His tone was soothing yet possessive, drawing Mike deeper into the warm haze clouding his mind.

Mike felt Carlos’s hand drift downward, his palm flat against his chest, pressing firmly over his pounding heart before sliding lower. The tight fabric of Mike’s cycling jersey did little to hide the contours of his body, and Carlos’s hand moved with purpose, tracing the defined lines of his torso, his hips, and the growing tension in his shorts.

Carlos’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as his fingers brushed against the palpable outline of Mike’s cock. “Oh, Mike,” he said softly, almost teasingly. “You’re holding back, aren’t you? Don’t fight it. Let it out—all of it. Give it to me.”

Mike’s knees threatened to buckle as Carlos’s touch became firmer, his hand pressing against the strained fabric. The warmth inside Mike swelled, threatening to consume him entirely. His mind was a blur, unable to form coherent thoughts as Carlos’s words sank deep into his subconscious, coaxing him to surrender.

“Feel it, Mike,” Carlos urged, his hand moving with slow, deliberate pressure. “Feel the tension, the heat. Let it take over. Let me guide you.”

Mike’s breath came in shallow gasps, his body trembling as Carlos’s grip tightened, grounding him in the overwhelming sensation. He let out a soft, broken moan, his head tipping back as the last vestiges of his resistance crumbled.

“That’s it,” Carlos said, his voice filled with satisfaction. His hand lingered, commanding and unyielding, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Mike’s ear.

Carlos’s voice dripped with satisfaction as his fingers trailed teasingly along the curve of Mike’s jaw, his dark eyes glinting with possessive intent. “You know, Mikey,” Carlos began, his tone low and almost purring, “I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you in that pretty gear. The way it clung to you, showing off everything. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Mike shivered, his breath hitching as Carlos leaned in closer, his lips brushing against his ear. “And you’re so easy to control, aren’t you?” Carlos continued, his hand wandering back to Mike’s chest, pressing against the tight fabric. “Making this gear your trigger? That was genius. Every time you pull it on, you’ll feel it—the warmth, the sensation, the need. You’ll crave this, just like you’re craving it now.”

A soft, involuntary moan escaped Mike’s lips as Carlos’s hand slid downward, his fingers grazing the unmistakable strain in Mike’s shorts. The tight fabric did nothing to hide his cock, and Carlos’s touch was unrelenting, coaxing another breathy sound from Mike.

“You don’t have to hold back, Mikey,” Carlos murmured, his voice velvet smooth. He cupped the bulge firmly, his hand applying just enough pressure to make Mike’s knees wobble. “Let it all out. Don’t be shy.”

Mike’s head tipped back, his eyes fluttering shut as Carlos’s words wrapped around him like a spell. His body betrayed him completely, leaning into the touch, chasing the heat and the pleasure that came with it.

Carlos smirked, his hand moving with calculated precision, stroking the sensitive bulge as Mike let out another helpless moan. “Good boy,” Carlos whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. “You’re exactly where I want you. Completely under my control. And it feels so good, doesn’t it?”

Mike could only nod weakly, his mind a haze of sensation and submission. His body trembled, utterly at Carlos’s mercy, and as the tingling warmth spread through him once more, he knew there was no going back.

Mike’s world narrowed to the feel of Carlos’s touch, the sound of his voice, and the unbearable tension building inside him. With a final, shaky exhale, he surrendered completely, letting the wave of warmth and pleasure crash over him.

Carlos’s hand moved with firm purpose, his touch both commanding and deliberate as Mike’s body trembled under him. The tension in the air was thick, the heat radiating from Mike’s body palpable. Carlos leaned closer, his breath warm against Mike’s ear as his fingers pressed into the fabric, now damp with the unmistakable evidence of Mike’s pre-cum.

“Can you feel it, Mikey?” Carlos murmured, his voice a low, sultry whisper. “The wetness? I can. Oh, I do. You’ve been holding back so much, haven’t you?”

Mike’s breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips as Carlos’s words sank into him. His body was taut, trembling on the edge of release, and the relentless heat spreading through him made it impossible to think, to resist.

Carlos’s smirk widened as he stroked the damp fabric, his hand coaxing more soft sounds from Mike. “Let it out now,” Carlos commanded, his tone both soothing and firm. “Don’t fight it, Mikey. Stain your pretty gear. Show me how good it feels to let go.”

Mike let out a broken moan, his head tipping back as the last threads of his composure unraveled. His body arched slightly, pressing into Carlos’s hand as the overwhelming warmth and pressure finally spilled over.

Carlos’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt the fabric grow wetter beneath his touch, the proof of Mike’s surrender clear. “Good boy,” he murmured, his voice soft but possessive. “You’ve done so well for me. That’s it—let go. Give it all to me.”

Mike sagged against Carlos, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the tension drained from his body, leaving only the hazy, blissful aftermath. Carlos’s hands remained steady, grounding him as he murmured soft praises, stroking his cheek with a gentle possessiveness.

Carlos’s hand lingered, pressing and stroking over the damp fabric with deliberate care. His touch was firm yet unhurried, a steady rhythm designed to keep Mike caught in the haze of sensation. Each stroke sent fresh shivers through Mike’s body, the wetness against the tight cycling gear amplifying the intensity of every movement.

“Good boy,” Carlos murmured, his voice low and velvety. “Such a good boy. You’ve done exactly what I wanted. Do you feel it now? How much better the gear feels like this?”

Mike let out a soft, breathless whimper, his body trembling under Carlos’s touch. The tight, wet fabric clung to him, every sensation heightened as the tingling warmth continued to spread through him. He managed a shaky nod, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

Carlos chuckled softly, his hand never stopping. “Oh, come on, Mikey. You can do better than that,” he coaxed, his tone teasing but laced with command. “Tell me. Tell me all about it. How does it feel now? How does it feel to give in completely?”

Mike’s head tipped forward slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “It… it feels…” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He struggled to form words, his mind still clouded with the overwhelming sensations.

“Go on,” Carlos urged, his hand pressing firmly over the wet bulge, sending another shiver through Mike. “Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

“It feels… so good,” Mike finally managed, his voice breaking as another soft moan escaped him. “The gear… it feels better now. Tighter… warmer…” He trailed off, his cheeks flushing as he realized what he was saying.

Carlos’s grin widened, his satisfaction clear. “That’s my good boy,” he said softly, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over the wet fabric. “You’re right—it does feel better, doesn’t it? The warmth, the wetness, the way it clings to you. You can’t get enough of it now, can you?”

Mike shook his head weakly, his body sagging slightly as Carlos continued to stroke him, coaxing out every last bit of his surrender.

“That’s it,” Carlos murmured, his tone soothing and possessive. “Let yourself feel it all. Don’t hold back. You’re mine now, Mikey. And I’m so proud of you.”

Carlos’s grip on Mike was firm yet guiding as he reached down, taking Mike’s trembling hand in his own and pressing it firmly against the wet, sticky fabric of his bulge. Mike gasped softly at the contact, his eyes widening slightly as Carlos moved his hand over the wetness, making him feel every inch of himself.

“This is all you,” Carlos murmured, his voice smooth and commanding. “Feel it, Mikey. The sticky fabric clinging to you. You did this, and it’s perfect.”

Mike’s breath quickened, his hand hesitating for a moment before Carlos’s firm guidance encouraged him to press harder, to explore. His fingers trembled as he traced the contours beneath the gear, the sensations overwhelming.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against Mike’s ear as he whispered, “And the smell? Can you sense it, Mikey? That intoxicating, heady scent of you, of everything you’ve let out. Good. So good.”

Mike let out a shaky moan, his face flushing deeper as Carlos’s other hand slid up to his chest. He stroked Mike’s pecs through the tight, damp jersey, his fingers tracing slow circles over the fabric. “You’re beautiful like this,” Carlos said softly, his hand drifting upward to cup Mike’s flushed face. He caressed him gently, his thumb brushing over Mike’s reddened cheek. “Your face says it all, Mikey. You love this. You need this.”

Mike’s head tipped forward slightly, leaning into Carlos’s touch as his fingers twitched against the wetness. The tingling warmth still coursed through him, making every touch feel electric.

Carlos smiled, his hand guiding Mike’s again, encouraging him to stroke himself through the gear. “Go ahead, Mikey,” he urged, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. “Stroke yourself. Feel it all. Tell me how it feels.”

Mike’s lips parted, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he obeyed, his hand moving tentatively at first before growing bolder. His fingers pressed and traced, each movement sending a fresh wave of sensation through him.

“It feels… so good,” Mike whispered, his voice trembling with vulnerability and pleasure. “The fabric… it’s so tight, so sticky… it feels… incredible.”

Carlos chuckled softly, his hand moving back to Mike’s chest, stroking and kneading the firm muscles beneath the damp jersey. “That’s my good boy,” he murmured, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Keep going. Let yourself feel everything. Don’t hold back.”

Mike’s moans grew louder, his body responding helplessly to the overwhelming sensations. Carlos’s words and touch grounded him, keeping him in the moment as he surrendered completely, lost in the haze of pleasure and submission.

Carlos’s hand moved swiftly to Mike’s chin, tilting his head upward so their eyes met. The grip was firm but not rough, a silent assertion of control. Mike’s breath hitched, his body frozen under Carlos’s intense gaze.

“Ah, ah,” Carlos chided, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not allowed to cum unless I say so, Mikey. You’re mine to control, and we both know you like it that way.”

Mike whimpered softly, his lips trembling as Carlos’s thumb brushed over his bottom lip. His hand stilled against the wetness of his gear, his body caught in a limbo of need and obedience.

Carlos’s lips curled into a sly smile as he released Mike’s chin, his hand trailing down to pat his cheek lightly. “That’s a good boy,” he murmured. “We’ve got plans, don’t we? We want to go on our ride, show you off in that perfect gear. Let the world see how good you look. How irresistible you are.”

Mike swallowed hard, his mind hazy but his body still tingling with anticipation. He nodded faintly, his eyes wide and glassy as he hung onto Carlos’s every word.

“But we can’t forget the most important thing,” Carlos continued, his tone shifting to one of playful practicality. He stepped back slightly, picking up Mike’s helmet from a nearby surface. “Safety first, Mikey. Always safety first.”

He leaned in, placing the helmet gently on Mike’s head and adjusting the straps with practiced care. The intimate, deliberate motions grounded Mike, pulling him slightly out of the haze. Carlos patted his cheek again, his grin widening as he stepped back to admire his work.

“There we go,” Carlos said, satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Now you’re ready. But remember, Mikey—no cumming until I say so. Let that tension build. Let it drive you. You’ll thank me later.”

Mike nodded again, his body taut with both anticipation and obedience as Carlos’s words settled over him like a warm blanket. The promise of the ride ahead and the electric tension in his body left him trembling, completely under Carlos’s control.

Carlos let out a low chuckle, his hand still resting lightly on Mike’s cheek as he took in the dazed, almost dreamy expression on his face. Mike’s wide, unfocused eyes and slightly parted lips gave him the look of someone completely lost in a world of sensation and command.

Carlos’s gaze followed Mike’s as it drifted downward, taking in his own body as though he were seeing it for the very first time. The way the cycling gear clung to him, damp and snug, seemed to mesmerize him, and Carlos smirked at the sight.

“There you are,” Carlos murmured softly, smoothing his hands over Mike’s chest and down along his sides. He tugged slightly at the fabric, straightening it with deliberate care. Each touch sent a fresh shiver through Mike, who stood still, pliant under Carlos’s hands. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. My good boy.”

Satisfied, Carlos stepped back slightly, his gaze drifting toward the window. The sun was bright and inviting, casting a golden glow over the landscape outside. Carlos’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment before a grin spread across his face.

“Oh, we could use something extra, couldn’t we?” Carlos mused, turning back to Mike with a glint of mischief in his eyes. He reached for a sleek pair of cycling glasses resting on a nearby counter, holding them up for Mike to see. “What do you think, Mikey? Don’t you think these would complete the look? Make you even more irresistible?”

Mike blinked slowly, his eyes flickering to the glasses in Carlos’s hand. His lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Carlos leaned in closer, slipping the glasses gently over Mike’s ears and positioning them carefully on his face. “There we go,” he murmured, adjusting them until they sat just right. “Perfect fit. Now, put them on properly, Mikey. Show me how good you look.”

Mike’s trembling hands rose obediently, pressing the glasses firmly into place. The tinted lenses added an edge to his appearance, making him look sharp and focused even in his dazed state.

Carlos stepped back, his grin widening as he admired the sight before him. “There it is,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Now you’re ready. The world won’t know what hit it when it sees you like this.”

He placed a firm hand on Mike’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before guiding him toward the door. “Come on, Mikey. Let’s take you out for a spin. The road’s waiting, and so am I.”

[hanniewho]

⋆˚࿔ Cam Girl series ft Jayce𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: You never let your beloved boyfriend join your livestream, and tonight you wanted to try something new, but little that you know that will change forever

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I will be writing 2 of this series for each arcane character on my Masterlist and I will make one in tlou AU blurbs and headcanons yeyey:3

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Sex in front of a Camera, No protection, Nipple play, spanking, creampie, mentioning pegging

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 5.6k

⋆✦ Pairings: Modern AU Jayce x cam girl reader

"Hey babe, are you ready for tonight's stream?" Jayce called out from the living room, his voice echoing down the hall.

You were busy in your bedroom setting up your camera and lights for your nightly ritual. You were a cam girl, a modern siren luring in viewers with your allure and wit. Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Jayce's costume idea. You had been planning a special theme night and were surprised he wanted to be part of it. "Yeah, almost set up," you replied, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.

You heard the sound of his footsteps growing closer, the floorboards creaking under his weight. The door swung open, revealing Jayce in the iconic Ghostface getup from the horror films—a simple yet eerie white mask and a black hoodie. His eyes, the only visible part of his face, sparkled with excitement. "What do you think?" he asked, twirling around to show you the full ensemble.

You couldn't help but chuckle, the sight of your boyfriend dressed as a notorious slasher was both adorable and slightly unnerving. "It's perfect," you said, nodding in approval. "But remember, you're just there for ambiance. No interacting with the chat, okay?"

Jayce's grin grew wider. "Cross my heart," he said, drawing an 'X' over the center of his chest.

The room was bathed in a soft, crimson light, casting shadows that danced with the flicker of the candles you had arranged. You sat in front of your camera, dressed in a skimpy outfit that was sure to keep your viewers hooked. You took a deep breath, feeling the anticipation build in your chest. This was going to be a night to remember.

With a click, the stream went live, and the chat exploded with messages. You greeted your fans with a seductive smile, the masked Jayce lurking ominously in the background. The anonymity of the internet was a thrilling playground for your imagination, and you knew they'd eat this

up.

The first few minutes were a blur of greetings and setting the scene. You played the role of a damsel in distress, while Jayce remained silent and unmoving, his masked presence adding to the tension. The viewers were already getting into it, sending gifts and requests that made your heart race.

As the night went on, you began to feel more comfortable, the initial nerves giving way to the familiar thrill of performance. You flirted with the camera, whispering sweet nothings and teasing your audience with glimpses of skin. Jayce, ever the good sport, mimed menacing gestures that sent shivers down your spine. You had to stifle a laugh at his exaggerated movements.

But as the hours passed, the tension grew thick, not just from the act but from the undeniable chemistry between you two. You found yourself leaning back in your chair, your head resting against Jayce's shoulder. His hand, gloved and cold, slipped around your waist, resting gently on the soft fabric of your shirt. Your breath hitched as you felt his touch, a sudden reminder of the very real man beneath the costume.

The whispers of the chat grew bolder, their suggestions more daring. Your cheeks flushed as you read them aloud, a playful smile curving your lips. Jayce's hand began to move, his fingers tracing slow circles on your stomach, sending waves of heat through your body. You tried to keep your focus on the camera, but his touch was a siren's call, drawing your attention to the present moment.

One particularly adventurous user sent a message that made your eyes widen. "Ghostface, show us what's under the mask," it read. Jayce's grip tightened, and you felt him lean closer to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," you murmured, your voice low and husky.

A mischievous glint appeared in Jayce's eyes, his hand moving to the edge of his mask. He tugged it off, revealing his handsome features, twisted into a smirk. "Surprise," he whispered, his voice a tantalizing blend of amusement and desire. The chat went wild, their excitement palpable through the screen. You couldn't help but feel a thrill run through you at the sudden shift in dynamics.

Leaning in, Jayce captured your mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. His gloved hand slid up to cup your cheek, the fabric whispering against your skin. You gasped into the kiss, your body responding instinctively. The camera kept rolling, capturing every moment for your eager audience. Their messages grew more fervent, urging you to give them a show.

As your kiss deepened, Jayce's hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing against the swell of your breast. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he gently pinched your nipple through the fabric. The chat was a blur of emojis and lewd comments, but all you could focus on was the heat building between the two of you. You reached behind you, your hand finding the zipper of his hoodie, pulling it down to reveal the bare skin beneath.

The scent of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the costume. Jayce broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed skin, and you knew he was just as affected as you were. He leaned back, taking a moment to appreciate the view, his own breathing ragged. Then, with a smirk, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and began to lift it, exposing your lacy bra. You giggled, trying to help, but his hands were insistent, moving with a purpose that left you feeling both vulnerable and incredibly turned on.

The camera remained unforgiving, capturing every detail of your flushed cheeks and the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. You could feel the eyes of your viewers on you, their anticipation practically electric. But it was the heat of Jayce's gaze that truly set your soul on fire.

As he revealed your bra, you felt the cool air kiss your skin, making your nipples peak even further. His eyes never left yours as he reached around and unhooked it with a practiced ease. The fabric fell away, leaving your breasts bare for the camera's hungry gaze. You watched as he took in the sight, his pupils dilating with lust.

Feeling bold and a bit bratty, you rolled your hips back, the curve of your ass grinding against his now very noticeable erection. The fabric of his pants did nothing to hide his arousal, and the friction sent sparks of pleasure through your body. Jayce groaned softly, his grip on your waist tightening. You smirked, knowing you had him right where you wanted him.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you looked directly into the webcam and announced, "I'll fuck my boyfriend in front of you guys for 500 dollars." The chat went wild, donations flooding in as your viewers clamored for the show to begin. A thrill shot through you at the thought of being watched, of having all those eyes on you as you gave in to your desires.

Jayce's smirk grew into a full-blown grin at your words, and he leaned in to whisper, "Is that a challenge?" You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, and the shiver that ran through you was purely for his benefit. "I think we can make it worth their while," he murmured, his hand sliding down to the waistband of your panties.

With a sultry smile, you reached for the webcam, lowering it so that only the lower half of your body was in frame. The camera now captured your ass as it rolled against the bulge in Jayce's pants, the fabric straining with every movement. The chat was a frenzy of excitement, their donations reaching a crescendo as they eagerly awaited the main event.

Jayce's hand slipped into your panties, pushing the fabric aside to reveal your glistening sex. You bit your lip, trying to maintain an air of professionalism despite the wanton need building inside you. His thumb grazed your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core, making your body jerk involuntarily. The camera zoomed in, focusing on the intimate gesture, and the donations skyrocketed.

The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the occasional moan that escaped your lips as Jayce continued to tease you. His fingers danced around your opening, dipping in just enough to make you squirm before retreating, leaving you desperate for more. Your viewers were going wild, their messages a blur of excitement and desire.

With a final, tantalizing touch, Jayce slid your panties down your legs, revealing your bare, glistening pussy to the webcam's unblinking eye. You felt a rush of exposure, a thrilling mix of fear and excitement. He spread your thighs wider, his eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself behind you. The cool air brushed against your sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

The chat was a cacophony of typing, the sound of a hundred eager voices demanding more. Jayce leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Ready for the show?" he murmured, his voice a dark promise. You nodded, your heart racing as he slid the tip of his gloved finger along your slit. The sensation was strange, the fabric of the glove a barrier to the intimacy of skin on skin, but it added an extra layer of depravity to the scene playing out before your viewers.

Then, a superchat notification popped up on your screen. 'I bet you can't fit 2 inches in your pussy'. The room fell silent for a split second before the donation amount registered. $600. Your eyes widened at the number, and you felt Jayce's smirk against your neck. "Looks like we have a challenge," he said, his voice a low purr.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, but the excitement was bubbling over. "Alright," you murmured, your voice a seductive whisper. "If someone donates $600, I'll... I'll see if I can fit two of your fingers." The chat went wild, the donations spiking again as the tension grew palpable. Jayce chuckled, his hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

The sound of the leather slipping through the loops was the only sound in the room, other than your own ragged breathing. You watched in the reflection of your computer monitor as he pulled down his zipper, revealing the bulge of his erection. It was clear he was more than ready for the challenge ahead. The anticipation was unbearable, your clit throbbing with every beat of your heart.

With a flick of his wrist, he slid the glove off, revealing his bare hand. Your eyes went wide as he positioned his index and middle fingers, already slick with your arousal, at your entrance. The camera zoomed in closer, the viewers' anticipation almost tangible. "Let's give them their money's worth," he said with a wink.

Jayce pushed in slowly, his fingers stretching you open with a deliberate care that belied the urgency in his eyes. You gasped, the sensation of fullness making your toes curl. The camera captured every twitch of your body, every glisten of wetness. The donations climbed, reaching the goal almost immediately. The thrill of being watched, of knowing you had an audience eager for your every move, only heightened your arousal.

Your breaths grew shorter, turning into little moans as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you. You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your belly that threatened to unravel at any moment. "Oh, fuck," you murmured, the words slipping out unbidden. Jayce chuckled, the sound sending a delicious shiver down your spine. "They're loving it," he whispered, his eyes flicking to the chat.

The numbers on the screen climbed higher, the excitement of your viewers a potent aphrodisiac. You watched the chat in amazement, your body responding to the knowledge that you were the center of their attention. "More," you begged, not caring if it was for the show or for your own pleasure. Jayce's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

With a growl, he added his thumb to the mix, the pressure building until you were sure you'd come apart at the seams. You leaned back into him, his erection pressing against you, a silent promise of what was to come. The room was a symphony of moans and heavy breaths, the air thick with lust.

You began to rock back onto his hand, riding his fingers with an abandon that had the chat losing their collective minds. Your breasts bounced with each movement, the drool that had been building in your mouth finally breaking free to slide down your chin, pooling in the valley between them. The sensation was messy, but it only served to add to the raw, carnality of the scene. You licked your lips, the salty taste of your desire mixing with the sweetness of your perfume.

Jayce watched the droplets of saliva make their slow descent, his eyes dark with need. His fingers moved with purpose, the sound of your wetness filling the room. You could feel the heat from his cock, the fabric of his pants growing damp from your shared arousal. His other hand reached around to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that synced with the strokes of his hand.

The chat was a blur of comments and donations, their excitement fueling the fire between your legs. You threw your head back, arching your spine as Jayce's thumb found a rhythm that sent you spiraling closer to the edge. Each time your drool touched your skin, it was like a little electric shock, heightening the sensation. You could feel the stickiness on your chin, the coolness of it as it made its way down to your chest. Your breasts bobbed with every movement, the red light casting them in a seductive glow.

Jayce's hand worked you like a maestro, his thumb swirling around your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of you. The tension grew, tightening like a noose around your core. You were so close, so fucking close, and the camera was there to capture every moment. The viewers' reactions were like a symphony of desire, their thirst for your pleasure driving you wild.

With a final, desperate thrust, Jayce's thumb applied just the right amount of pressure, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, making your body convulse with ecstasy. You screamed his name, your voice echoing through the room and no doubt through the speakers of every device tuned into your stream. The chat exploded with excitement, the donations reaching a new peak as you rode the wave of pleasure.

As your body slowly came back down to earth, Jayce gently withdrew his hand, the wet sound of your release echoing through the room. He held his fingers up to the camera, showing the viewers the glistening mess he'd created. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the sight, a thrill at the power you had over these anonymous strangers. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking the juices off his fingers with a wink at the camera, the action making your insides quiver anew.

You leaned back into his chest, panting heavily. "Fuck, that was intense," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. Jayce wrapped his arms around you, his erection pressing firmly against your back. "And we're just getting started," he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

With surprising ease, he pulled you back onto the chair, positioning himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you onto his lap. You could feel the heat of his cock, trapped by his boxers, as it nestled between your ass cheeks. The fabric was the only barrier between you two, and it was soaked with his precum. You squirmed, eager to feel him inside you.

Jayce's hands roamed up your body, tracing the curves of your waist and the swell of your breasts. He tweaked your nipples gently, making you gasp. The camera, still focused on the lower half of your bodies, captured the intimate moment perfectly. His cock grew even harder against you, and you couldn't resist grinding back into him.

Leaning down slightly, you placed your palms on the table, pushing your ass into the air. "C'mon, fuck me already," you whispered, your voice dripping with need. "I'm so wet, baby." The chat went wild at your words, their donations pouring in like a floodgate had been opened. Jayce's grip on your hips tightened, his own need evident in the way his knuckles turned white.

You wiggled your ass in a tantalizing dance, the movement sending another jolt of pleasure through your still-throbbing pussy. The camera captured every second of it, broadcasting your desperation to the eager audience. Jayce took a moment to appreciate the view before sliding your chair back and standing up. You felt the loss of his touch briefly, but it was soon replaced by the heat of his body as he positioned himself behind you.

The sound of fabric rustling filled the room as he shucked his pants and boxers to the floor. You bit your bottom lip, the anticipation almost unbearable. He leaned in, his breath hot on your ear. "You're going to be the talk of the internet tonight," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your slick entrance, and you couldn't help but push back, begging for more.

With a low growl, Jayce slammed into you, his bare flesh meeting yours in a perfect, wet slap that resonated through the room. The camera caught every inch of his cock disappearing inside you, the arch of your back a beautiful curve that framed the scene. The chat went wild, their comments a cacophony of excitement as they watched your body take him in. You moaned, the feeling of fullness making your toes curl.

Jayce began to thrust into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliciously slow. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making your knees tremble. You could feel your orgasm building again, the muscles in your stomach tightening in anticipation. The red light cast a hellish glow on Jayce's face, turning his features into something otherworldly.

Your fingers curled into the edge of the table, knuckles white as you gripped onto the smooth wood. Each time he slammed into you, the table creaked and rocked, the vibrations traveling up your arms. The camera captured the look of pure ecstasy on your face, your eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream. You could feel the eyes of your viewers on you, their hunger for the show making you wetter with every passing second.

Jayce's hand snaked around to cup your breast, squeezing gently as he continued to fuck you. His hips slapped against your ass, the sound echoing through the room. You moaned, the sensation of his bare cock moving in and out of you an exquisite agony. "You like that?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. You nodded, unable to form coherent words.

The camera captured every detail, the slick sounds of your bodies coming together, the way your ass cheeks bounced with each thrust. The chat was a frenzy of comments and donations, urging you both on. Jayce leaned over you, his hand moving from your breast to your clit. He began to rub it in tight circles, his movements in sync with his thrusts. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure growing until it was almost painful.

Then, with a grunt, he reached around and slapped your ass, the sound ringing out in the silent room. The sting only added to your pleasure, and you pushed back into him with renewed vigor. His hand moved to your other cheek, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, his fingers digging in as he claimed you. The camera's focus shifted to capture the sight of his handprint fading into your skin, a stark reminder of his dominance.

You moaned, the sensation of his hand on your ass only heightening your pleasure. He leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered, "You're mine, all of you." The possessive growl in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each word.

Jayce's strokes grew more erratic as he watched the effect he was having on you. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he was hitting every single one of them with the precision of a maestro conducting an orchestra. The camera caught the way your eyes rolled back in your head, the desperate little noises that you couldn't hold back.

With one hand still playing with your clit, Jayce reached for your hair with the other, pulling your head back sharply. "Look at the camera," he ordered, his voice a gruff command that sent a shiver down your spine. You complied, opening your eyes to stare into the webcam with a hazy, lust-filled gaze. The red light was a beacon, drawing you in, making you feel like the most wanted woman in the world.

The chat was a frenzy of excitement, their messages scrolling by so quickly they were almost illegible. You could feel Jayce's cock pulsing inside you, his own climax approaching. His strokes grew more urgent, his hips slapping against your ass in a tempo that was music to your ears. The camera was a silent witness to your passion, capturing every intimate detail.

Without warning, Jayce's hand left your clit, trailing down to your ass. He brought his hand up, the slickness from your sex making the journey feel like molten lava against your skin. He cupped your cheek, squeezing gently before bringing it around to your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive peak. The sudden change in sensation had your eyes rolling back, a low moan escaping your lips.

You could feel his cock swell inside you, the veins pulsing with the promise of his release. The camera was unforgiving in its focus, capturing every moment of your passionate dance. "Tell them how good it feels," Jayce murmured, his voice a dark command in your ear.

You opened your mouth, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper. "It feels so good, baby. Your cock is so deep, filling me up." The chat went wild at your confession, the donations spiking again. You reveled in the power of your own words, the way they made your body feel even more alive.

Jayce's hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back even further. His thrusts grew more urgent, his breathing harsh and ragged. You could feel the tension building in him, the way his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. "Cum for them," he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Show them how much you love it."

You moaned, the words a catalyst for your release. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, making your body convulse on his cock. The camera captured every twitch of your pussy, every gasp of pleasure that escaped your lips. Jayce's own release followed closely, his hips jerking as he filled you with warmth. The sensation was almost too much to handle, your body shaking with the force of your shared climax.

As you slumped back down onto the chair, Jayce pulled you with him, his cock still buried deep inside you. You both sat there for a moment, chests heaving, trying to catch your breath. The red light of the webcam was a constant reminder of the audience that had just witnessed your most intimate moment. The thrill of it made your heart race, your body still humming with pleasure.

Jayce leaned back, his eyes flicking to the computer screen, reading through the frenzied comments. One caught his eye, making him throw his head back in laughter. "Oh fuck me, they're right," he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and amusement. You glanced over your shoulder, curious about what had tickled him so much.

His fingers trailed from your still-throbbing pussy to your neck, tracing the path of your jaw before moving to your ear. "They said you're leaking," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You felt a warmth spread from your cheeks to your chest, a blush creeping up as you realized what the chat meant.

With a quick, almost embarrassed laugh, you reached over to the computer, ending the stream with a decisive click. The red light on the webcam winked out, and the room was suddenly plunged into a more intimate darkness, the only illumination coming from the glow of the monitor. The sudden silence was deafening after the symphony of moans and chats.

Jayce leaned back in the chair, his cock still sheathed inside you. You could feel him softening slightly, but the sensation was still exquisite, the connection between you two still palpable. He kissed the side of your neck, his hand sliding up to cradle your face. "That was... intense," he murmured, his voice a rumble of satisfaction.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The reality of what had just happened hit you like a wave, and you felt a mix of emotions—exhilaration, embarrassment, and a strange sense of accomplishment. You had just fucked for the world to see, raw and unfiltered, and it had been one of the hottest experiences of your life. The fact that it was with Jayce, the man you loved, dressed as a horror icon, made it all the more surreal.

Jayce's grip on your hips loosened as he slid out of you, a wet sound echoing through the room. You felt the warmth of his cum dribble down your thighs, a stark contrast to the cooling sweat that had coated your skin during the intense session. The intimate moment was a stark reminder that despite the theatrics and the audience, this was real. You had just been claimed by your boyfriend, and there was something undeniably hot about it.

With a cheeky grin, Jayce reached over and gently inserted his finger into your pussy, swirling it around to collect the last remnants of his release. "Ah, ah, ah," he chided playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't waste any of 'em." You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation mixing with the post-orgasmic bliss that still lingered in your body.

He brought his finger to your lips, the digit glistening in the soft glow of the room. You took it into your mouth, tasting the salty tang of him. You sucked it clean, watching the lust in his eyes flare brighter. The simple act was surprisingly intimate, a silent declaration of your willingness to go anywhere with him, even if it meant crossing lines you never thought you'd dare.

"Let's clean up," Jayce said, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet. He stood up, his cock still semi-hard and gleaming with your juices. You couldn't help but stare at him, the power of his presence still resonating through your body.

He offered you a hand, helping you to your feet. The floor felt cold against your bare soles, a stark contrast to the heat that was still pulsing between your legs. Together, you made your way to the bathroom, the soft carpet underfoot a comforting cushion for your trembling legs.

Jayce turned on the shower, the sound of the water hitting the tiles a soothing melody after the cacophony of the stream. You stepped in, the water washing away the sweat and stickiness from your skin. The cool spray felt heavenly, a gentle reprieve from the fire that had been raging in your body moments ago. Jayce followed, his strong hands guiding you under the spray, the warm water cascading over your breasts and down your back.

He took the body wash, lathering his hands before applying the gentle soap to your skin. His touch was tender, almost worshipful as he washed away the evidence of your performance. He paid special attention to your pussy, his fingers stroking you lightly as the water washed away the remnants of your shared climax. You leaned into him, the sensation making you shiver despite the warmth of the shower.

"Hey baby?" you murmured, looking up at him through the veil of wet hair clinging to your face. His eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze making your stomach flutter. There was something in that look that made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly powerful at the same time.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice softer than the patter of the water around you.

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart race. "Can I... peg you on the next stream?" The question hung in the steamy air, the words slipping from your mouth with a vulnerability that was mirrored in the way your eyes searched his.

Jayce's hand stilled for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face before he broke into a grin. "Is that a challenge, love?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. The idea was new, a fresh thrill to add to the mix of your shared kinks.

You nodded, a hint of nervousness playing with the corners of your mouth. The water cascaded down your body, mixing with the soap to create a slick path down your chest and stomach. Jayce's eyes followed the rivulets, his smile growing more mischievous. "I think that can be arranged," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "But only if you're sure."

Your heart raced as you considered the implications of your request. The thought of watching him squirm and moan for the camera, the way you had just moments ago, was a thrilling prospect. "I'm sure," you murmured, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "I want to make them crazy."

Jayce's grin widened, his eyes darkening with excitement. "Alright," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "But we're going to need some preparation. We don't want to disappoint our audience." He reached for the conditioner, smoothing it into his hands before applying it to your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The water sluiced over you both as he worked the product through your locks, the scent of mint and rosemary filling the air. You could feel the tension in his body, the anticipation of what was to come. His hands moved to your scalp, massaging it with firm circles that had you melting into him. The sensation was soothing, a gentle counterpoint to the wildness of the cam session.

He rinsed the soap and conditioner away, his hands lingering on your skin, tracing patterns that made your heart flutter. When you stepped out of the shower, the warmth of the towel wrapping around you was almost a letdown after the heat of his touch. Jayce followed, his body a sculpted masterpiece that made your mouth water.

You both dried off, the fluffy towels a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the cold, hard floor beneath your feet. The red light from the cam was gone, but the memory of it remained, a lingering brand on your soul. You felt different, somehow—more alive, more connected to the world outside your four walls.

"So," Jayce said, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he wrapped the towel around his waist, "when's the next show?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the question somehow fitting perfectly into the surreal evening you'd just shared. "Give me a break," you replied, playfully swatting his arm. "I need to recover from that performance."

Jayce chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body making you shiver. "We've got time," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise. "But when you're ready, I'll be waiting." He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, deep kiss that made your knees wobble. The taste of mint from the toothpaste and the faint saltiness from your shared release still lingered on his tongue.

When he pulled away, a smug smile played on his lips. He reached out, his fingertips brushing through your still-damp hair, the gentle ruffling sending a cascade of tingles down your neck. His touch was a brand of ownership, a silent declaration that you were his, and the thought had your stomach doing flips. You couldn't help but return the smile, the thrill of your shared secret echoing in every pulse of your heart.

The next stream was going to be a marathon, you realized with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You'd have to plan, to choreograph a performance that would not only satisfy your viewers' hunger for the extreme but also push the boundaries of your own comfort. But with Jayce by your side, you knew it wasn't going to be so bad. In fact, it was going to be incredible.

The thought of the upcoming show had your mind racing with possibilities, your heart fluttering in anticipation. You knew that with Jayce's help, you'd be able to create a spectacle that would leave your audience breathless and begging for more. You'd have to be strategic with your set-up, ensuring the angles were perfect and the lighting cast just the right amount of shadows to keep the mood sultry and mysterious.

The realization that you were making a fortune doing something so taboo with the person you loved was almost too delicious to believe. The thrill of it all had a strange allure, a forbidden fruit that only made you crave it more. You'd never felt so alive, so in tune with your desires, and the knowledge that you were sharing it with the world was exhilarating.

[bangtanhoneys]

GRACE TOUR DIARY: April 4th - 10th 2025, Seoul

APRIL 4TH: INCHEON AIRPORT, SOUTH KOREA

The noise from the private plane made for an uncomfortable sleep, and Grace was awake on and off throughout the journey. The adrenaline from the concert and the adrenaline of the thought that she was finally going home, albeit for not much of a break, meant sleep came sporadically. Up, down, up, down. Deep sleep, light sleep, no sleep. A lap or two of the plane to get the blood flowing into her legs, multiple trips to the bathroom, and returning to her seat to curl up underneath the blanket. 

Catching up on her Korean dramas kept her mind off the remaining hours of the long flight, and the bits of food shared by her team meant she had enough fuel for the remaining few hours in the sky. By the time it hit 3 am, she was wide awake and into a comfortable set of clothes with her face washed and her hair tied up underneath a cap. 

Getting into Incheon Airport at 5 am meant there would be little traffic around, and since this was a trip back home undercover, no press or announcement had been made. For all anyone knew, Grace’s tour finished in New York last night, and her current whereabouts were unknown to everyone, including BTS. A couple of fan photos taken of Seokjin arriving at the airport two days ago added to the speculation that the couple would be going on holiday together, missing the tribute concert that the government had been putting together.

What people didn’t see was Seokjin being escorted back out of the airport and taken home. This was child's play for a couple who had to hide their relationship from everyone for several years. For them to dupe even the rest of the band meant a job had been done very well. The big test would be if anyone was in the airport at this time of the morning to spot them. 

Lucky for Grace and unlucky for those wanting updates, the private jet touched down without much fanfare, and two blacked-out SUVs were already waiting on the tarmac, as was an official from the airport. Her passport, ticket, immigration, and everything else were checked and double-checked before she was allowed to leave the plane. Outside, the cold air hit her, and as she breathed it in, it finally hit Grace that she was finally on Seoul soil and that she was home. Grace spotted a familiar face as Sejin, Hana, and the others loaded up the two cards.

Seokjin, leaning up against the passenger side of the cart, his face partially hidden by his mask and a cap covering his still short hair. It was unmistakably him, and his eyes lit up when he saw her, though he looked as tired as she felt.

“Welcome home, superstar,” he said as he pulled her into a tight hug the moment she was in front of him. 

“You have no idea how much sleep I need,” she murmured into his chest as the tension of the tour and the flight began to melt away.

He chuckled softly, tucking the escaping hair back under her cap that wasn’t doing a good job of hiding who she was. “Oh, I think I do. You look like you could use a week of sleep.”

That sounded like an amazing idea as she climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV, and Seokjin walked around to the other side, slipping into the driver’s seat. She’d have a couple of days of rest, but then it would be straight to work for the government BTS tribute concert. 

“They have no clue?” she asked, watching as the airport drifted away and they were on the road to their shared apartment.

“Nope,” Seokjin laughed. “Yoongi was just complaining to me the other day over dinner that you were likely to miss the concert. I think the boys think you’re still stuck in the States, and I’ve somehow managed to go over there, though they know I’m going to be at the concert so they suspect something. But no, they’ve not fully cottoned on yet.”

Perfect.

There were seven days until the government concert, and Grace had two days of rehearsals, once again in secret. So that meant she had four days of chill time, where she could catch up with her parents, Seokjin’s parents, her nephews, and her team, and get to work. Maybe there would be a chance to escape somewhere with Seokjin for a day or two.

“Fancy a trip to the beach?” 

It was as if Seokjin read her mind, and she glanced towards him. “Let me shower first; I feel like I’ve been through a war.”

APRIL 8TH: HYBE, SEOUL

How Grace managed to stay under the radar while at home was a complete mystery to her. No one had spotted her while she ran to the local convenience store near her home with Seokjin; no one had seen her entering and leaving her parents' apartment building; and no one had seen the two of them as they drove from their home to Hyangho Beach and back again. 

It was a perfect few days of lazy mornings, late-night conversations, and home-cooked food where her attention wasn’t demanded for hours on end. 

But now there was no denying that it was going to be a case of going back to work.

The concert was three days away, and the hype around it was more than the Busan concert. Many were guessing what songs were going to be played, many were guessing who was going to perform, and many were guessing who was going to attend out of BTS. Big Hit had been very tight-lipped, and no mention of the concert had been spotted anywhere on any of Big Hit's social media accounts other than HYBE, who shared the date of the concert, and that was it. 

However, inside of HYBE, it was chaotic. 

One of the practice rooms had been set aside for Grace only to practice in and this is where many of the meetings about the concert were held with the director, stage, dance captain, costume and more. While two of HYBE’s artists, Tomorrow X Together and Seventeen were both set to perform - they also had no idea of Grace’s involvement. Other than Soobin, who like Seokjin, had managed to find out completely on his own and had remained tightlipped about it. 

The set list had been prepared and signed off months ago with songs set aside for various groups and artists. Sets had been designed, costumes had been designed and props had been allocated for various uses. It was going to be a long concert to try and cover the most popular songs and some of the bigger hits while trying to show off a long career that only BTS could pull off. 

While the boys had some say in it, it was mostly left to the Big Hit team and, in secret, Grace. What songs could she easily perform on her own without needing seven others? What songs could she do all the choreography to without someone else taking over? Some hard-hitting hits really needed to be showcased, especially to a government that used and abused BTS at any given moment. Something Grace herself wanted to at least pinpoint with one particular song. 

“So, this is the stage's layout,” a staff member pointed out to Grace and the seven male dancers she used for her tour. The stage itself was similar to the LOVE YOURSELF tour stage, a little bigger to accommodate bigger idol groups and a live band as well. “For the entrance, you’ll be popping out of here,” the staff member circled a set of stairs that was on the main stage, “and then walking down the steps to come towards the edge or near the edge of the main stage.”

Her introduction would be one of the biggest of the night and every single second had been planned with meticulous detail. The intro or at the least the instrumental had been messed around with enough that it could give Grace time to get down the stairs and where she needed to be to start the performance. 

But for now, she needed to pre-record her opening. 

The biggest dupe the K-Pop world had ever seen. 

It would have been easier to do the pre-record before she left for her tour, however, the song in question hadn’t been given the green light as the team wasn’t 100% on what it should actually be. Something newer like RUN BTS or an old hit? But in the end, it had been Tomorrow X Together who had solved the issue with the medley they were set to perform.

Out of HYBE and only a fifteen-minute drive away, Grace found herself on a soundstage that had been set up for the pre-record. She would give a very brief hello and introduction before performing a live version of No More Dream with the band, who were some old friends of Yoongi’s crew and their band from Busan.

As the cameras were being prepped, Grace softly rapped both Yoongi and Namjoon’s parts under her breath. While it was easy to focus on one rapper, this song in particular had four rapper parts and two of the fastest were right at the beginning. It had been an age since she had performed this song, let alone danced to it and she could see out of the corner of her eye the seven male dancers from her dance crew were practising the breakdown. 

This would be the opener for Tomorrow X Together and their medley of early Bangtan hits including Danger, War of Hormone, Run and Boy with Luv and, of course, No More Dream. However, Grace would be doing her own version of their very first single - acoustic and sitting on a chair, on her own with the band and then as it got to Yoongi’s second verse, the dancers would appear. 

Four large screens on stands behind the band would play four separate videos: the original music video for No More Dream, the last performance of No More Dream which was from the Map of the Soul: One 2020 concert, the ARMYPEDIA version and the final dance practice which was uploaded to YouTube. 

The set itself was dressed in black with hints of gold and white, referring back to the original NMD clothes.  But thankfully for Grace, she wouldn’t be required to go back to the original look - black jeans, black top, black leather jacket and the old school black & white Converse. Simple and easy to dance in, but effective to put her back into those old days and her blonde hair was styled back into the ponytail she always used to wear. 

It took the whole day to record the performance for everyone to be happy with it. For Grace, it had been hard to remember the lyrics of everyone and dance the central position after not performing the song itself in years and for the dancers it was getting the dance break down to match the original movements. And after reviewing the footage for a couple of hours, they got the all-clear to say they could go home.

APRIL 10TH - SOMEWHERE NEAR SEOUL OLYMPIC STADIUM

It was the final day of rehearsals for everyone including Grace. For the idol groups and idol performers, all their rehearsals would take place at the Olympic Stadium and for Grace, they hired Jamsil Arena for her rehearsals. 

There was a large monitor for her to watch everyone do their rehearsals and she could send notes to the director, making points and suggestions as to what she thought. Trying to fit a nearly 13-year career into two hours was a difficult one especially when some of the songs were demanding on idols who might not be used to the high intensity of the dance routines. 

But for the people outside, ARMY were oblivious to what was going on.  

Every day they would crowd around the stadiums, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. Whether it was from Seventeen, Tomorrow X Together, Stray Kids, Enyphen, or even Twice, they were all kept under secrecy. But at least ARMY were allowed to get to the merchandise stalls, food trucks and a megamix of the BTS songs was playing over the speakers and videos were being shown on screens around the area.

 And somehow, they didn’t see Seokjin being driven in. 

“You got this whole place to yourself?” Seokjin asked, amazed even though he wasn’t sure why he was since this whole thing had been a big spectacle of a show. Of course the government had hired a separate arena just for Grace, of course they had hired the best teams, and of course, they had hired the best designers to make costumes. 

“I can keep an eye on everyone’s rehearsals and their timing their performances with my own, so we can keep an eye on the full run time,” Grace explained as she sat down next to her partner who handed her a takeaway cup of tea. 

“Mental,” he shook his head as he watched everyone get the stage ready for the next rehearsal. 

“Still nothing from the boys?” Grace asked, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment.

He snorted and shook his head, taking the cup from her as a just in case. “Namjoon is fully starting to suspect something, he’s been asking questions at the company and Yoongi has been doing his digging around. As far as I’m aware, no one has given away anything. So they're going to be fully surprised tomorrow as long as no one blabs.”

The 8th member of BTS yawned and stretched, her body starting to feel sore with the amount of rehearsals as she was starting to get used to doing the famous BTS routines but in only a matter of days, she’d be back rehearsing for her own tour. This time in Europe, with Paris being the first stop. 

“Grace!”

Seokjin laughed at the sigh that came from the person who the name belonged to. “Go on, you’re needed.”

“You hanging around for a while?” Grace asked, standing up with a reluctant pout.

“I’m here for another hour or so and then I’m heading to the company as we’ve got a meeting about tomorrow. Apparently, we’re being debriefed by the military,” Seokjin raised his eyebrows at that.

“Oh, joys. Well, if I don’t see you in an hour, I’ll see you at home. Need me to pick anything up on the way?” she asked, taking the tea off Seokjin and accepting his kiss on the forehead (they were in public after all.)

“Min-ji wouldn’t mind some snacks and I’m sure you can think of something to get me,” he grinned then gently pushed her towards the stage where the dancers were waiting. “Go on, Grammy award-winning singer.”

Seokjin cackled at the dark look he got in return and settled back in his seat, with Sejin joining him to watch rehearsals for the next hour. ARMY, BTS and the world were going to be blown away by the concert and Grace’s performance, he knew that. To see her perform some of their hardest routines while singing all their lines and without being out of breath - the only person who could pull that off would be Jungkook. 

Tomorrow would be one of her greatest achievements. 

[buggyboba]

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | Merry Kringly, Happy Crimmis, It truly is a Christmas miracle this is going up on Christmas. I finished this on four hours of sleep, hopes, and dreams, and the need to post it. Anyway, happy holidays, enjoy some filth!

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Dhawan!Master x Reader (F!implied)

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | Hi ya, I hope you're having a great week. If it's okay I'd like to request a Dhawan!Master x reader where the master gives the reader a necklace/bracelet as a Christmas present (the reader, of course gets the master a present too) but the necklace/ bracelet is an invention made by the master and little does it reader know that it comes with a remote and the piece of jewelry is activated by a button on the remote and once activated it links to the reader's brain and the other buttons on the remote have different settings. Anyway the master decides to take the reader out for a nice dinner, the reader wears the jewelry, but at dinner, the master could "accidentally" lose the remote and the reader would experience the effects of some of those buttons.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | public hand job (Reader receiving), The Master is mean af, orgasm denial at first. There is some dubious content about some things, slight blink and you miss it implied Hypnosis.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 4200

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

Christmas was around the corner, and you knew your alien didn’t expressively celebrate it, but he liked presents, so you talked him into at least exchanging gifts. You had planned a nice night; he would meet you at your apartment, you would do the gift exchange, and then you would go out to dinner at this restaurant that you had wanted to try for ages. You had bought him a few things, but he was surprisingly hard to shop for, because what did you get a Time Lord? A lord of time, a being who was vastly older and experienced in life? You considered a gift card, but even that seemed so ridiculous.

You did manage to get him something from the galactic black market, which you thought he would adore. He had been eyeing it the last time you were there; you nicked it as you were leaving. You would have paid, but you had no idea about the currency, and The Master’s TARDIS wouldn’t translate for you, so you just pocketed the thing and hoped for the best. You were going to give it to him that night, but he got rude, so you decided he would have to wait for the gift exchange for it. You also got him a nice new suit to wear and some other trinkets you thought he might appreciate.

You had expected him not to show up with anything, especially because when you suggested it, he belittled the human notions and told you that your little human holidays were cute and all, but he was busy. That was until you mentioned Christmas presents; once he clarified that he would be getting presents, his attitude shifted to be more on board. Now here he was with three gifts for you, in a nice suit, looking like an absolute snack, and you couldn’t be happier about it. His Tardis was cloaked as a light post outside, and you two were sitting in the nice warmth of your apartment as the snow gently fell outside. He held out the gifts to you and took his long overcoat off. Hanging it by the door, he looked at you and grinned.

“I think you will really like what I’ve gotten you,” he announced and moved to pass judgment on your Christmas tree—pausing at the little twinkling white lights against your black Christmas tree, whose bulbs were gold and silver with tinsel that reminded him of the colorful swirls of a galaxy. There was a beat of silence as he cocked his head just a bit; you watched him; it was clear he was thinking of something, so you decided to pull his attention back.

“They are like stars!” You announced, motioning at it with your free hand, as you balanced the three gifts with the other.

He raised an eyebrow at you; his expression softened for a moment before it steeled again. “What? It's nothing like stars, just little lights.” He shook his head and walked over to your couch, sitting down, crossing one leg over the other, leaning back against the couch. You tilted your head and frowned but walked over. “If you want stars, I'll take you to see stars, Bunny.” He said watching you. “You don't need a pale imitation.” He motioned for you to sit down, but you held up a hand. You put the presents he had given you onto the couch and moved to grab the boxes for him. You brought them over and held them out. “So many,” he stated and moved to grab them. “Makes mine seem lacking.” He chuckled a bit.

You moved to carefully sit next to him. “Open yours first.” You nodded softly; even if he was rude about the tree, you weren’t going to let that dampen your mood. He shifted a bit, his arm draped over the back of the couch. He liked to take up space, forcing you to sit closer to him. You were special, the only human he actively tolerated. He laid claim on you, and quite frankly, you enjoyed having him around. He balanced the little pile on his lap and used his free hand to take the sparkly gift paper you put in the gift bag out.

He pulled out the little metal cube; examining it, he blinked in genuine amusement and awe. “Oh, you little thief, How did you even get this?” He rolled the cube over in his fingers, the chromatic metal capturing his attention.

“Well, you know, you arguing with the guy let me pocket it; I was going to give it to you that night, but you were mean, so you had to wait.” You nodded.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, looking at you after a moment.

“Not a clue, but you wanted it really bad, so…here we are.” You grinned. “I should have made you open that one last, because nothing else is going to compare…damn, hindsight.” You shrugged a bit and comfortably leaned against him.

“It’s a Minarian key,” he began to explain. “Powerful technology can be unlocked—you know we can discuss this at another time; we have reservations, and I don’t want us to be late,” he muttered.

“You just don’t want to explain it to me, which is fair, I guess.” You teased. “There is no such thing as being late; you have a Tardis.” you pointed out, and he shook his head.

“Oh yes, because I would waste time going back a few minutes in time.” He rolled his eyes and moved to pocket the Minarian key before he opened the rest of his presents. He seemed to enjoy the gifts from what you could tell, which made you happy; at least you had picked something that he would use and fit his tastes. You were sure he would have said something if he hated the other items; he was very vocal about it; he didn’t sugarcoat much, if at all anything.

“Now, open yours!” He said, nodding, moving a bit to shove the smaller box at you first, a cheeky grin spread over his face. You nodded and moved to undo the ribbon; you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You opened the box, and there was a little black bracelet with a gold inlay.

You looked at it and carefully pulled it out of the box. You had expected him to rave about it, but he just grinned at you. “It's very pretty, thank you, Master.” You said, and his grin got bigger, moving to help you put it on. His fingertips grazed your wrist as he clasped it shut around it; his hand lingered around your wrist for a moment before he let it go, and you noticed he had a similar ring, the little black band, on his ring finger. “Wait, is this some Time Lord proposal thing?” you teased, and he shook his head no.

“Just figured you humans love that matching jewelry thing,” he dismissed you, but he had this air of mischief around him. “Open your other gifts now.” He nodded, pushing the other boxes to you. You opened them in turn, a new outfit to go with your new jewelry; it was very thoughtful and looked pricey. “Go change; I have one more surprise.” He said, motioning you to go.

“How do you even know it’s going to fit? Plus, I want to wash it before.” You tried to explain.

“I know your size; it’s prewashed. Now off you hop, Bunny,” he said with a tone that said not to argue, so you nodded and moved to go quickly change. The dress was formfitting, hugged you in just the right places, and the heels had this flair to them but also gave you another inch or so in height. It was a rather fancy outfit, and you weren’t sure about how you were going to not break your ankle in the heels, but you were sure this was a ploy to get you to hold onto him the whole night. When you came out, you found him having a glaring match with the angel on top of your tree.

“You good there?” You asked, and he looked over at you; he moved towards you, and his hands grabbed your arms as he looked over you, giving a slow whistle. His stare dragged up your body; before he got to your face, he leaned in a bit, kissing your cheek.

“Am I good or what?” he teased. His hands slipped down your arms, and then he squeezed your hips before he let you go. Starting towards the door, he held his arm out.

“Wait, where are we going?” You asked, taking his arm as he led you out to his Tardis, making sure you were careful on the fresh snow. He hummed a bit in response to your question and gave a playful shrug like he didn’t know where he was taking you. You rolled your eyes and stepped into the Tardis. “I made the reservation for that one restaurant.” You frowned, but he shook his head.

“No, no, that won’t do. I am taking us somewhere better; I already have a reservation there,” he nodded. “The best of the best in the universe,” he assured you. He moved over to the console, and with a swift, graceful move, he input the location and flipped the switch, and off you both went.

You fiddled with the bracelet and watched him; he had this grin on his lips again, watching you play with the bracelet. Oh, if you had only known what was going to happen. He moved over to you, taking your hand in his, placing his other on your lower back, pulling you closer. “This Christmas gift-giving isn’t so bad,” he teased. “I have another gift for you, but later,” he said as they arrived at the location. He moved to lead you out, and you looked around; there was fake snow falling but not quite hitting the ground. There were an array of lights strung, making an overhead canopy, and the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg hit your nose.

“I thought you didn’t really dig Christmas stuff,” You said, looking around.

“You think your planet is the only one that has something like Christmas; you are a silly bunny if you think that. Christmas wasn’t even yours to begin with; you just added to it. The Pagans learned Yule from a passing race, and then the religious fools took it as theirs, and now capitalism has taken over. Think with your silly little human brain, bunny.” He shook his head.

You shifted and nodded a bit, “Yeah, okay, you got me there.” you said calmly and looked at him; the soft glow of the lights made him look softer, and you smiled, wrapping your arm around his, partly to steady yourself on the heels and the other because you liked wrapping around him. “So where are we?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it, but this place has a year-long celebration of the coming season, and it has some of the best food in the galaxy, so let's go,” he said, leading you down the cobblestone path towards a large brick building. Once inside, he spoke with the host before you two were led to a table towards the back. You sat down and smiled, looking over the menu, it was in an alien language, and his Tardis still wouldn’t translate for you. “One day they will like me enough to translate.” You said, looking at him, and he snorted out a laugh.

“You think?” he asked, leaning back and looking over the menu. “Don’t worry, Bunny, I know what we are getting anyway; you’ll like it.” He assured and put the menu down. Once the order was taken and the waiter left, he leaned back, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ring; you felt your body get warm; shifting a bit, you assumed it was just because of the atmosphere of the romantic restaurant.

You looked around and shifted again, leaning back, smiling at him. “It’s nice,” you said, motioning to the restaurant. He nodded, watching you, seeing a light blush starting to spread across your cheeks. “So, have you come here often?” You asked, trying to start small talk; he raised an eyebrow.

“The come here often line? Wow…no, really pull out all the stops for me, Bunny.” He teased. “No, I’ve only been here twice now,” he said and let his fingers run against the ring; as he did so, you felt your hips jolt; it felt like someone had touched you. You looked down and around but didn’t see anything, which concerned you less than if something was there. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his grin not fading.

“I…nothing…um…okay, okay, no silly small talk then,” You said and shook your head, looking at him; you got your smile back and opened your mouth to speak, but a soft sound came out when you felt it again. His fingers traced the ring, and he tilted his head. “Um... oh... uh...” you blinked. What was happening? You shifted to push your thighs together more. “Sorry, um, right, what's the next big thing, plan…uh…adventure?” You nodded; however, the feeling didn’t stop. He moved his hands down to his lap as he leaned forward. He started to talk about his plan, but you couldn’t focus, not when there was pressure against your clit; it felt like fingers slowly stroking, like he had been doing to his ring. Your eyes widened, and you cleared your throat.

"Are...did..." You put two and two together.

“Oh, you figured it out. I was wondering… But you are rather quick to the take, Bunny,” he grinned. “A fun little experiment; glad to know it worked, a creation of my own.” He explained and twisted the ring; his grin turned mischievous. You felt heat rushing through you as a vibration pooled lower, settling against your core. You jolted again, and even as you squirmed a bit, the feeling stayed. “It uses a bit of telepathy and harmless nanobots that I may have put in you a week ago,” he mused.

“N-nano…You can’t just do that?” You breathed out, your hands gripping the edge of the table.

“Why not? You didn’t even know they were there until I told you…and plus they are harmless…Don’t fret so much, my dear,” he said and watched you with immense joy as you squirmed and then settled so you wouldn’t draw attention to yourself.

“It’s not... It’s the principle…” You tried to explain, but the feeling was starting to get stronger. Your hips shifted as you tried not to let them move. You closed your eyes for a moment and breathed, trying to focus on anything else.

“Besides, on the scale of things, this is tame, and a bit of fun. Don’t you enjoy it?” He mused, watching your features soften as you opened your mouth a bit, panting out.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t—nanobots really?” You managed before you had to shift again; your only grace was it seemed The feeling slowed when a waiter came by to refill your drinks; you thanked the alien with a shaky thank you, though you were sure they didn’t understand you. When they left, you shot a glare at The Master, who was beaming at you, clearly enjoying this game. “In public!” you whined, but it was a more angry sound.

“Yeah? So? That’s the fun part of it, don’t you think? Don’t get caught…” He mused. You shook your head; you were about to say something, but the feeling was back, stronger than before, and you choked out a sound, having to stay still, and gave a weak wave at the table across the way that looked at you because of the sound. “Oh, my dear, you were saying?” He looked like the cat that had caught the canary. “Don’t worry so much; it’s a good night, good company, and some good fun, don’t you think?”

“You exhibitionist,” you muttered and tried to cross your leg over the other, gripping the table ledge again as you closed your eyes, trying to pretend you were fine. Your body was so warm, and the feeling of the vibrations was driving you closer to the edge. He grinned and laughed a bit, shrugging.

“Perhaps, maybe I just like watching you squirm. Are you going to cum?” He asked like he was asking about the weather. You stifled a moan as you fought back against flipping him off; you tried to shift again, your hips weakly rocking against the feeling; it was driving you wild, your cheeks were faintly blushed, and you wanted more, needed more.

“You going to just tease me the entire dinner?” You managed to get it out between your teeth. He tilted his head and then let his hand come to his chin, watching you. He was taking too much pleasure in this, but right now your mind was foggy, and you had started not to care too much; you just wanted relief from this feeling.

“I just might; you are adorable; red is such a nice color on you.” He mused teasing you about your blush. You grumbled something and squirmed more, “Don’t make a scene, bunny.” He warned a bit, “Nor a mess; would hate to explain why to the staff.” He mused, though his eyes dilated a bit, your scent hit his nose, and he gave a little devilish chuckle, clapping his hands. “Oh… you are drenched, aren’t you, poor bunny.” He cooed at you, and you choked out another sound. Your hand gripped the hem of your skirt, and your other hand clenched and unclenched against the table. “Beg,” he said simply.

Your eyes opened quickly as you looked at him, “What?” You looked around. “Here?” You looked at him in disbelief; he gave a simple nod and then mock pouted at you.

“Why not? They can’t understand you, and even if they could, do you really care right now?” He mused. “Beg,” he repeated and nodded; the feeling suddenly stopped, and you gasped out. He must have been tracking how close you were; the sudden lack of the delightful feeling caused you to make an undignified needy sound.

“P-Please!” you said quickly, he tsked and shook his head, giving you a look that told you you needed to do better. “I want to finish.” you breathed.

“I want a lot of things; however, you won’t get it if you don’t beg nice and properly.” He let his tongue run over his canine teeth before he gave you a charming smile. “Now do it right this time.”

You breathed out, you looked at him, your eyes hazed in lust and need, “Ple—” You were cut off by your food getting there, and this made him laugh; he seemed to enjoy this special brand of torture. He looked at you; if looks could kill, he would have been incinerated. He grinned and looked at his food, ignoring your death glare.

“It’s good, eat,” he said simply. You weren’t hungry; your brain was frazzled, and you could feel the slight throb of your core and the want burning through your body. He happily ate his meal, looking at you occasionally. “What don’t you like steak?” he asked.

You had to stop yourself from saying something you would regret, so you sighed and prodded your food, pushing it around. You started to relax, cursing at him mentally for the state he left you in, thighs slightly sticky with your arousal. You finally started to cut into your steak, and suddenly you felt it again; you jolted at the unexpected feeling. “Master!” you let out a frustrated cry; he looked at you innocently.

“What?” he said and looked at you. “I thought you wanted to finish.” He smirked. He was being frustrating on purpose, pushing to see how far he could go before you jumped him or committed violence against him. He was feeling lucky, and you could never stay mad at him too long. “Do you not want to now?” He raised his hands a bit in ‘surrender.’ You stared at him for a long moment.

“Yes, Master, I want to finish,” you grumbled.

“Not with that attitude you don’t, darling; try again. Give me your best this time,” he teased.

“Please, please, please, I want you to let me finish; I need to finish, please! Master~” You gave your best beg; the sultry whine in your voice caused him to shiver visibly.

“After dinner.” He grinned at you and started to eat again. You looked at him in disbelief. Was he really doing this on Christmas? You had half a mind to never play Companion again. “You won’t,” he said simply.

“We set rules for a reason!” You snapped at him. “My thoughts are mine,” you reiterated.

“Yes, well, when you think them so loud,” he said, taking a snapping bite of a roasted root vegetable of sorts.

“You are being cruel now.” You sighed and shook your head.

“Well, if you are a good little bunny the rest of dinner, when we get back to the Tardis, I will give you a very nice present,” he said, looking at you, tilting his head, and giving you this almost puppy-like expression.

“Fine! Fine…but stop teasing me…” You sighed, “I played your begging game; I was good.” you said quickly.

“And just be good the rest of dinner, and I will reward you. Good bunnies get rewards, remember,” he said with a nod, his dark chocolate eyes catching yours for a moment. You felt compelled to forgive him, to play along a bit longer; you nodded a bit.

“Okay,” you said softly, and as you shifted again, you poked at your food a bit, eating some of it, but you were on edge now, and you could tell he liked it, his glances at you, watching you, studying you; it wasn’t until the end of the meal, when he suggested dessert and sent the waiter away, that you felt the feeling again, how warm the slow, dragging circles against you felt.

You weakly submitted, letting your thighs fall open under the table a bit. A low sound escaped your throat as he locked eyes with you again, watching every micro-expression, how your breath hitched, how your heart raced, fluttering against your pulse point in your neck, how your arousal leaked, and how your body tried to stay still but ultimately gave little rocks.

“You are being so good, but shhh, you can’t make a peep… I don’t want you to get us kicked out,” he said, nodding solemnly, like it was your doing, like he wasn’t the complete reason.

You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip as you choked back a sound, covering your face with your hand, trying to quiet yourself and not draw attention to yourself. The feeling was so good, though, the vibration, the way the circles and drags felt like his own; you felt the pace get quicker, firmer, and you arched your hips forward a bit before quickly reeling yourself back in as you realized you were still very much in public and still very much in view of other people. Your only solace was that he wasn’t making comments now; he was focused on you, taking in every piece of information he could. You could safely say he was very giving when he was actually focused and not teasing.

Your core gave little throbs, and you made soft little ‘mhm’ sounds. Every movement, every feeling, you could feel your pleasure building; you felt the soft shake of your thighs, and you tried not to lean your head on the table as you panted, your hand slipping down to cover your mouth as nonchalantly as you could. You let out a soft whimpered ‘Master’ at him, and he made a pleased little ‘hm’ back at you. “You can cum…I’ll let you,” he whispered across the table at you. Your mind was hazy from the pleasure, but you needed to let go now; the pressure was building, and you were so close that you had to bite the cloth napkin to muffle the sounds you made as you felt your orgasm crash across you. Your face was warm from the heat of the blush, the feeling only fading as the aftershocks started to calm. His eyes slid over you, watching for you to mentally come back to him.

“Good bunny,” he praised, though it sounded more like a tease. You had a moment or two to compose yourself at the table before dessert came. It was some kind of crème with fruit. He motioned for it to be placed in front of you, then made a joke at the waiter and winked at you before the waiter left.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“Nothing to worry about, Bunny… Eat your dessert.” He nodded. “Do you like the gift? Just think, I don’t even have to be near you to be touching you.” He purred, while at first the thought sounded like him getting to play this game anytime he wanted, it did give you some joy because that meant he was thinking about you when he did if you were apart.

“I... do like the gift; in an odd roundabout way, it was very... thoughtful.” You nodded.

“Good, now eat up so we can hop out of here; I want to unwrap my best Christmas present,” he smirked at you.

[loboazul16]

This guy!

[cutieacefuck]

I love these idiots