#It's... not the smoothest relationship...
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kimmiessimmies · 9 months ago
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Wistfulness (24/34)
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“James,” Patty spoke sternly, “I really didn’t appreciate you talking to Sarah during my speech.”
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James sighed, “Sarah asked me something, mum.”
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“No, James, do not immediately point at her; you need to take responsibility for your actions.”
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James rolled his eyes, “Fine, mum, I’m sorry.”
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science-lings · 10 months ago
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I love it when Phoenix suffers from the curse of Cassandra, oh the Dahlia on the stand isn't the one you know? she must be an evil twin? this kid is in too deep huh? What are the chances that the murderer and Maya and Pearl are all on the other side of the flaming bridge even though it's a dead end and it would make no sense for the murderer not to flee after killing Misty? He just makes absolutely insane claims in court without thinking much about it and it turns out to be what happened and it is so funny.
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meirimerens · 11 months ago
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"If I could grow a little mustache" has the same energy as my schoolmates asking me how I got my hair to be this long (just. Don't cut it)
in her defense a mustache Is harder for a cis woman to grow if she doesn't have the predisposition to it than the rest, if you can't naturally grow the girlstache you can't grow it that's just how it is, whereas even the palest blondest most sickly woman will naturally grow like. pit hair unless she's got hormonal problems. but the juxtaposition of "If I could grow a little mustache, if I could grow a fucking happy trail and unbutton my pants, I would." and The Smoothest Skin On A Woman Alive is. chuckle-worthy a lil to me.
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dmitriene · 6 days ago
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cw: pet play.
being lieutenant's simon ghost riley good pup, no one at the base knows the nature of your relationship, and even suspicions do not linger for long, it is more convenient for everyone to shift the focus to the fact that you are so clingy to him because he's your superior and you are looking for his approval, even through you're always at his side.
maybe you have a silly crush on him, everyone brush off, because it's happened more than once there before, but they don't know that you literally belong to simon, his good girl, a personal puppy who is always there to take the stress out of him, waiting for him in his cabinet at the end of the day, looking diligent, with a leather collar around your delicate neck.
scratching behind the fluffy, droopy puppy ears you wear like a hairpins, letting simon imagine that he does, really, has a sweet puppy between his muscular thighs, your face nuzzling in the rough fabric of his cargos, while he smoothest his calloused palm over your head and behind your real ears, fiddling with them and against the nape of your neck, as he smokes a cigarette.
you wait for your lieutenant late at night in his quarters, at the foot of his bed, knees pressing into the small, round carpet he keeps there, more to your comfort than his, because simon wouldn't want his puppy catching a cold while waiting for him all ready, your clothes folded neatly at his chair, leaving your body naked and vulnerable for him, except of the most important.
collar tag jingling at your neck, simon's name engraved on the back side more as an show of his ownership over you, than in the case it'll get lost, as he tugs at the leather with his fingers, slipping the thick digits against your neck, sweating, warm skin, and you obey the tug, stretching your neck, until you feel the rumble of his bulky, toned chest against your arched back.
hear the crooned, hoarse praises that smell out of tobacco, soaking in your plump lips, dropped open in a keening, crying moans he draws deep with licking, biting kisses, amused creases around his mouth when he feels your drool seep at his chin, the way your viscous slick pools around his engorged, fat cock, grinding with steady circles in your soppy, warm cunt.
the fluffy, pretty tail you're plugged with in simon's palm, letting his fingers brush over the curve of it and the small bow that decorates the tail, wagging from side to side each time his hips pound against your backside, your drooling, keening face burrowed in the pillows as he ruts sloppily in your squelchy hole, too fucked out to notice that he's tugging at your plug tail.
main masterlist. quidelines.
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msunitedstatesjames · 1 month ago
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I've touched on this in a couple of other semi-related posts before, but I find it hilarious and I appreciate how much Johanna Hezenkoss thinks Emmrich is the protagonist of Veilguard. Like, this woman could not give less of a fuck about Rook. She almost always refers to Rook only by their relationship to Emmrich. She refers to Rook as "one of Volkarin's hangers-on," "that impudent whelp following [Emmrich] around," "Volkarin's companion," and as Emmrich's "paramour." None of these imply that she thinks Rook has much agency. Instead, she acts like Rook is just helplessly following Emmrich around like a puppy, helping him complete tasks (which I guess is partly true).
If Rook romances Emmrich, Hezenkoss assumes that Emmrich seduced Rook and not the other way around, even though Emmrich is noticeably older than Rook and has hardly left the Necropolis in years. She's seemingly amazed by it, and yet it never once crosses her mind that Rook might have initiated the relationship (which is actually the case).
She also refers to Emmrich as the one who destroyed her construct, which is technically true, but she ignores the major assistance he had from Rook, another companion, and most notably Manfred. He couldn't have pulled it off without their help, and had in fact given up, but Hezenkoss acts like Emmrich was her sole opponent in that battle.
I've said before that part of the reason for this is that Hezenkoss seems to think of herself as the main villain of the story, so Emmrich must be the main hero. Hezenkoss says that some of the other big bads of Dragon Age, the Venatori, were nothing more to her than slightly useful and genuinely annoying. She clearly thinks herself above an entire organization of some of the most powerful mages in the world. And she sees Emmrich as pretty close to her in terms of raw power, since she almost invited him to her Vengeance Party but ultimately decided he was too much of a danger to her plans. She also states that she tried to get him to join her in the past, which I don't think she would do for anyone she considered to be less than her equal. Emmrich is genuinely the only person in the game she shows any respect for. Though she mocks his age and finds him to be too sentimental, too moral, and too fearful, she shows signs of agreeing with him on some topics, and she obviously respects his abilities if nothing else. No one else in the game acknowledges his frankly ridiculous knowledge and skill level (except Solas in the end) as much as Hezenkoss does.
And really, Emmrich does have main character energy. Though he does have some age and mortality related fears, dude is overflowing with confidence. When you first meet him, looking for a Fade expert, he has absolutely no problem telling you he's the best possible person for the job. Though he apparently hasn't left the Necropolis in years, he's totally down to join the team and go anywhere you want him to go. If you romance him, he is initially surprised, but he quickly turns into the smoothest dude around, and throughout the game you can hear him comment on some of his many relationships through the years. He's well-dressed, well-spoken, charismatic, highly educated, unfailingly kind, extremely powerful, and he's done so well for himself that Harding mistakes the son of a butcher and a cook for a member of the Nevarran nobility. No wonder Hezenkoss thinks he's the protagonist. The real protagonist is just out here winging it on guts and good luck alone.
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indulgentdaydream · 1 year ago
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Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)
anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.
Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.
Out of the Bag
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Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.
Word Count: 1,862
Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use
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You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.
“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.
That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.
You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.
“Princess,” he sounded panicked.
Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”
You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”
The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.
You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”
He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.
That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.
You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”
“I’m tired,” you mumbled.
It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.
You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.
Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.
He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”
You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.
Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.
He’ll apologize when you wake up.
When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.
No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.
His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.
Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.
“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”
Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.
That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”
Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”
Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.
There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”
“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”
Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.
Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.
He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”
Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”
A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”
Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”
Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.
He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.
Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.
He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.
The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.
There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.
Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.
“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.
Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”
Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”
Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”
Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”
Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”
Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”
A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”
Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.
“Are they seriously listening right now?”
Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”
Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”
Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”
Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.
Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”
“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”
“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“
“What’s going on…?”
Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”
“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.
Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.
You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”
Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”
“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”
Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”
You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”
“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.
From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.
“Out!”
Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”
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i-dare-say · 6 months ago
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If Luo Binghe never fell in the Abyss he would be the smoothest motherfucker out there.
These lines always kill me
“I’m not allowed to look at someone I raised?” asked Shen Qingqiu.
Luo Binghe chortled. “Of course Shizun is allowed. Am I pleasing to look at?”
We don't see much of what their relationship was like during those three years of disciplehood, but like?? Seventeen-year-old Luo Binghe was so sure of his shizun's affections, he must've felt like they were set for a wedding as soon as he'd come of age. Imagine if that went on without the Abyss.
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vifilms · 17 days ago
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tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. it’d be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. it’s clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. you’re just her type. violet would know, cait’s dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, she’ll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe you’re just nice. that’s it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.
tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t stop thinking about you. it’s new york. there’s plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows she’s somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesn’t like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesn’t even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. it’s hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that it’s her ex. probably both but she ignores it.
tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. it’s when she doesn’t feel alone. it’s fun to bug her sister, powder. she’s always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how they’re doing? vi isn’t either really. she’s quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violet’s never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isn’t the girl and she’s perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.
tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t even enjoy work anymore. three months in and you’ve been cait’s girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. it’s cliché. a little fucked, but being in love with her ex’s girlfriend? it doesn’t get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didn’t wanna deal with caitlyn’s wrath. according to maddie, she’d been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone else’s. it wasn’t new to violet, cait didn’t like being runner up to anyone. it’s why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait can’t help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks it’s silly. the both of them are nearly the same it’s almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.
tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someone’s station isn’t properly sanitized and clean. it’s why she’s here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. it’s been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but that’s long enough for her. she’s always been proud of what she’s been able to accomplish her. even if she didn’t have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldn’t let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. it’s why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in it’s natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were — in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but it’s hard for her to stay mad when you’re standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats she’s ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, there’s just a softer version of yourself and vi can’t help but contemplate if this is the side you’re so reluctant to show.
tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but it’s impossible when you’re looking at her. she can’t help but smile — so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when you’re looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. there’s a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isn’t? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe it’s embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. what’s the point if it isn’t? it’s always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesn’t like it? all they say is they don’t like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who she’s permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet can’t stop daydreaming about.
tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. there’s a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesn’t give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows she’s good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, you’ve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sunday’s, alone. if anything, she should know this isn’t a good idea. you’re charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlyn’s wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but it’s innocent…right? she’s a professional. no matter how much she’s attracted to a client, it’s never been an issues and she certainly won’t make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, you’re leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. it’s really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it. 
tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted — it’s enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violet’s been avoiding you and what’s worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. it’s kiramman’s day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means she’s overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette she’d been itching to have. violet’s on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall she’s leaning on. you’re too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire you’ve created in violet’s lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. it’s chilling how silent you are until you aren’t. you’re loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but it’s not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but there’s a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but she’s scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. “caitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.” then your touch is gone and you are with it. 
tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t show up on sunday…for the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and you’d done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldn’t do it. she didn’t want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldn’t, not when you’re the person who gets broken up with. it’s not a secret caitlyn’s ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldn’t stand. 
tattoo artist!vi who isn’t one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. you’re still waiting for her. two hours later, you’d hoped she’d show. ”violet, you came.” it’s endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before. 
with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs vi’s leather jacket off. she’s only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. she’d get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but you’re touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers. 
“i know what you’re gonna say.” 
“and what’s that?” 
“you wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like you’re betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.” 
“i can’t—” but the words die on violet’s tongue. 
“sense won’t get to you, that’s something caitlyn didn’t understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, you’d let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.” you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, she’s nearly salivating to be offered a taste. “my girlfriend doesn’t understand you’ve found someone else to be loyal to.” 
“this is not, um, i didn’t—” 
sweetly, you kiss her cheek. “it’s such a bitch isn’t it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.”  
violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap you’ve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that you’re wrong about her — she would never do something like this — until she does. it’s all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath. 
bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. it’s beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you aren’t shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, it’s damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over vi’s tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isn’t any part of you that isn’t undeniably shaking. the third time, you’re on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her. 
exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you don’t push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms. 
tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows it’s for the best. six months in and you’re still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violet’s name comes up jokingly, caitlyn’s words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach. 
c’mon, what is violet going to do? look at her. she’s as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. don’t i, cupcake? 
tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sunday’s aren’t as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks it’s a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. i’ll be just up the hill when you’re ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesn’t manage to convince herself out of this situation she’s conducted for herself. anyways, it’s one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought you’d be here but i guess we’re both full of surprises.
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concretecultist · 6 months ago
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Kingdom Come
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summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.
pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah
word count: 7.4k
THIS IS PURE FICTION!!
warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace
A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰
~Berry🫐
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Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.
Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.
So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.
So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.
“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.
“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.
“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”
You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.
“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.
“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”
“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”
His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.
“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”
You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.
He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.
“N-no, no I do,”
He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”
The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.
“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?
“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.
“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.
He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.
He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.
“I can’t go in there,”
“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”
You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”
One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.
He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.
Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.
“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”
Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,”
A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.
“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.
Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.
Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.
It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.
The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.
Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.
This is his sex dungeon
“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.
Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.
“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”
Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.
“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”
His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.
“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.
“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”
“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.
“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”
You offer a simple nod and he smirks,
“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”
Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”
“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.
“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”
“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.
“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.
“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.
“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”
“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.
“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”
You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.
“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?
“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”
“I understand,” you nod.
“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”
With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.
“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.
“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”
Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.
“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”
Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.
I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive
Bullshit. You were perfect.
He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.
His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.
“What do you need from me right now?,”
You were embarrassed to say it.
“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.
“To not be shy and to let go,”
He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”
God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.
“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.
“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.
“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.
Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.
He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.
“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”
He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.
“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”
Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.
You need this so bad.
“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.
Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.
You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.
“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands
“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.
“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”
“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.
“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.
One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.
“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.
“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.
A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?
“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”
He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.
“Do we need to stop?,”
“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”
“That’s what I need to hear,”
He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.
“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”
“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.
But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.
“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.
He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.
“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.
“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.
“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.
But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.
“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.
“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”
His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.
“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.
“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.
“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”
“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.
“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.
“W-wanna cum for you,”
“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.
“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”
You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.
You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.
“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.
“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”
Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.
You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.
“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”
He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.
His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.
“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.
“Be good and open for me,”
You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.
Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.
“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”
His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”
With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.
“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.
He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.
After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.
“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’
A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.
“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.
“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.
This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.
“Before we start, take a drink for me,”
“But I’m okay,”
“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’
“I’m sorry,”
He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.
When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.
“How are we doing? You still okay?,”
“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.
“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.
“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”
He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.
It was subtle, but it was always there.
“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”
A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.
“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”
Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.
“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.
“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.
“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”
He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.
You looked so beautiful like this.
“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”
“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.
“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.
He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.
You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.
“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.
“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.
You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.
When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.
Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.
“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.
“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.
“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”
He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.
But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.
“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”
He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.
It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.
“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.
“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.
“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.
You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.
“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”
Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.
“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment
With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.
You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.
“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”
He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.
Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.
Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.
“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”
Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.
You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.
“Sit up for me, Sugar,”
Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.
“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”
The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.
It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.
“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.
He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.
He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.
“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.
“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.
“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.
“Take it,” he ordered.
He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.
You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.
“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.
You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.
“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.
“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”
His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.
But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”
It was a look to tell him to let go.
So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.
You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.
“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”
Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.
“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.
“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.
“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”
“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”
Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.
“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.
Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.
“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.
“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.
“You need it that bad?,” he teases.
“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”
The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.
He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.
“More, please, please, please!!,”
“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.
“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.
“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”
“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.
“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”
“Y-yes,”
He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.
“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”
“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”
When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.
“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.
With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.
“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”
He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.
“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.
“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”
Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.
“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.
“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”
And that was all she wrote.
With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.
You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.
“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”
With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.
“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.
You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.
“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”
Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.
“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”
He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.
“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”
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Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.
Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.
He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.
“You okay to talk?,” he questions.
You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.
“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”
“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.
“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”
“And that is?,”
“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”
You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.
But who cares?
It was you and Noah against the world now.
Til Kingdom Come.
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This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!
Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹
~Berry 🫐
tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending
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preeningpisces · 10 months ago
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Nanami NSFW Headcanons
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Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these
18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader
Enjoy! 💙
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☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask
☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them
☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy
☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)
☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.
☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet
☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own
☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship
☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his
☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him
☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO
☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/
☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly
☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven
☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok
☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time
☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 2 months ago
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hii love! i just read your clingy so u distance yourself fic for the bazillion time and i cried again no surprise🥹 I just wanted to say i love your works so much and would live to request for an angst oneshot with brother bsf chan? basically reader has been pining for chan for a few years but she never got the courage to tell chan cause she thinks she isn’t good enough for chan. Then afterwards basically chan got a girlfriend who hated her and basically influenced chan to stop hanging out with her which he listened to and told the reader which the reader told him that his girlfriend wasn’t loyal but he thought she was sabotaging his relationship and so they ended off on bad terms but turns out a few weeks later he caught his girlfriend cheating and went back to the reader? sorry if it is kinda long but i rlly need a oneshot like this to read when i just need some angst i really live and admire your works so id be elated if you did my request. thank you and lots of love❤️
my first piece since I went on a mini little baby hiatus. and i had a lot of joy writing this. so i hope you enjoy <3!!!
Brothers Bsf Chan x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)
6.8k words
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You didn’t know when it started. Was it a simple touch? A brush of a hand or an accidental graze of fingers? Or was it one of those lazy Friday nights where Chan would crack jokes to you and his best friend- your older brother Jisung- while you three were watching movies in the house you grew up in. Or did it stem back all the way to those days where you would chase after Chan and Jisung on the playground, down your neighborhood streets- crying out for them to wait for you. Those cries stopped when Chan would reach his hand out to bring you along.
Maybe it was a combination of all of those things, those things you had tried so hard to forget because it could only lead to heartbreak. Falling in love with your brother’s best friend was no easy feat for anyone. Let alone when you were falling for someone like Chan, who was so hard to fall out of love with. Maybe even more so for you since he would always be in your life. Him and Jisung were nearly joined at the hip, which made it even harder to hide your pining for him. You wouldn’t dare love out loud, but it was starting to whisper through the cracks of your resolve.
You were unconditionally in love with everything about Chan. 
That's how it was for years, and how you intended it to be for as long as allowed. You spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if he could ever see you the way that you saw him. You were sure things were only platonic between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but linger on the memories of certain looks, certain gestures that you couldn’t delude yourself into believing happened between friends. 
Things started to change when Chan began dating someone new. 
Duri. Her name was Duri, and the first time you met her, you knew she was the type to turn heads. She had a smile that could light up a room and a confidence you could only dream of. Standing next to her, you felt small, like a background character in Chan’s life story. A girl who captured Chan’s attention so easily. A girl who wrapped him up in her life so easily that you knew you were to be forgotten. He was smitten and her words flowed like the river of the smoothest molasses. She could easily convince Chan, he didn’t need you. Because she didn’t like you.
You weren’t sure why, but it was obvious. And because she didn’t like you, her feelings towards Jisung weren’t all that different, it seemed. And slowly you felt like Chan was making his way out of your life.
“Ji, why isn’t Chris here?” You loved the way his name sounded when you said it. Not many people around you called him Chris, so it felt special to call him that. He seemed to enjoy it as well, not ever asking you to conform to societal norms.
“He’s probably just busy, Y/N-ie…I’m sure he’ll come back around.” Jisung said one day as you guys sat on the couch, scrolling through movies. It was the first Friday movie Chan had missed. And even if it was the first time he had missed it, you knew it would be a regular occurrence.
In all honesty, at first, you tried to like Duri. She was with Chan, after all, and you thought that maybe you could be friends. That maybe if you could convince yourself to like her then the pain of not being the one that Chan loved would ease.. But the more you saw her, the more you felt her sharp, indirect glances, the way she dismissed you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She made you feel invisible, as if you were only tolerated because you were Jisung’s sister. Even if she just barely tolerated the latter.
Over time, you saw the changes in Chan too. He became distant, no longer the easygoing guy who’d spend hours with you and your brother. He was still polite, still kind, but he was pulling away, bit by bit. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he’d come around once things settled down with Duri.
But then, one night, things came to a head.
You, Jisung, and Chan had made plans to meet at your favorite café—just a casual hangout, like old times. But when Chan showed up with his girlfriend by his side, something was off. His smile was forced, his laughs hollow. He barely met your eyes, and when you spoke, and even then  it was like he wasn’t really listening. To the point that Jisung even pointed it out. Every time you spoke, Duri happened to speak at the same time. Every time a question was directed at you, Duri somehow changed the conversation. You felt small and insignificant and made your way home early. You couldn’t stand to sit there and see the man you were so down bad for with his significant other. Duri had sat close to him, her hand always somewhere on his arm or shoulder, marking her territory in the subtlest way, in a way that caused an anger that wasn’t so subtle. 
But even then after leaving you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest. You sat down on a bench outside of a convenience store by your home, trying to sort out your feelings. 
You okay? I’ll be heading home soon. We went out to drink. 
You quickly type out a reply to Jisung, your fingers shaking as you realized just how cold it was. Just as you were about to get up to leave a pale hand reached out to you with a warm drink. 
You looked up to see a guy with dark and prominent eyebrows, and a little birthmark on his nose. 
“You seemed cold. Its…” He looked at the can. “Mocha flavored.” He handed it back out to you and smiled softly. 
“Thank you.” You said with a small bow of your head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. 
“You live in the neighborhood right? Your brother…looks like a squirrel?” The man’s voice was soft and shy, like he thought he was talking too much.
“Oh! You’re our new neighbor? I’m Han Y/N.” You said with a flourished bow.
“Park Sunghoon. Nice to meet you…” He shuffled awkwardly. “Would you like me to wait before I walk home…I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No! No! It’s fine, I'm not uncomfortable. You can walk home with me.” You say quietly. “Maybe it’ll be nice to not feel lonely.”
As you made your way back home with Sunghoon you had a weird feeling in your chest. You thought maybe you were just trying to sort your feelings, but it was more of an intuitive sense. 
Then you got a text from your brother.
I’m coming home. Duri tried to make a move on me and I’m not trying to get into it with Chan while she is here.
You blinked at the text, nodding when your voice registered Sunghoon asking if you were okay.
That was that odd feeling…
You didn’t know if it was selfish to feel happy that Duri was a tool, but you did. You didn’t want Chan to get hurt so you decided to go talk to him. Giving a message on behalf of Jisung, who thought maybe Chan would listen better if it was coming from a girl
“Hey, can I talk to you?” you asked, your voice soft but determined, as you walked up to him outside of his job a few days later.
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, looking a bit surprised. He followed you to a quieter part of the park, away from prying eyes. “Is everything okay? Jisung hasn’t texted me in a couple of days…"
You took a breath, feeling the words tangle on the tip of your tongue. “Chris…I just…I feel like you’re not around as much anymore. I get that you’re with Duri, but…it’s like you’re pulling away from me and Jisung. My brother is too scared to say anything, but he feels just as bad, if not worse than I do.”
He frowned, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry if it feels that way,” he said finally, but not much emotion in his voice. “But…I need to be there for Duri. She’s… she doesn’t feel comfortable with me hanging out so much with, you know…” He trailed off, not meeting your eyes.
Your heart sank, a cold dread washing over you. “With me, you mean?”
He hesitated, but the silence was all the confirmation you needed. “She…doesn’t get why I’m so close with you. And I don’t want her to feel insecure, so I…I think it’s best if we… keep some distance. Just for now.”
You stared at him, feeling a surge of hurt and anger. “Chris, she’s manipulating you!” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “She’s making you feel guilty for caring about people who were here long before she was. Because she knows those people will pinpoint, that she’s a manipulative cheater!”
He looked at you, a flash of anger in his eyes at the words. “You don’t know her like I do,” he snapped.
You flinched at the venom in his voice. He had never snapped at you and you could feel tears spring to your eyes.
“She tried to make a move on Ji…” You said quietly. “And don’t try and say my brother is a liar, Chris,  because you know he’s not.”
Chan gave a sarcastic chuckle. “She already told me that Y/N. She was drunk. It was nothing more than that.”
“Drunk actions are sober thought Chris!” You shot back.
“Oh, so the first time you ever got drunk and confessed your feelings for me was a sober thought?”
You felt your body freeze and you blinked at Chan with wide eyes. You blacked out the first time you had ever drank and didn’t touch anything since. You never knew you had admitted to liking Chan.
“So it’s true then? You actually love me?” Chan let out a large sigh. “Frankly, it’s not fair for you to accuse her of things that aren’t true just because you put me on a pedestal. Your feelings for me aren’t my responsibility Y/N. This…this just feels like you’re trying to come between us because of some childish jealousy. She’s my girlfriend, and I trust her more than I trust someone who hasn’t been honest to me for years.”
You felt like you’d been slapped. The words cut deeper than anything you’d expected, leaving you struggling for air. “That’s not…that’s not what I’m doing, Chan. I just…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You tried to say back. “My feelings have nothing to do with this I’m coming to you as a friend-”
“Friends don’t feel that way about each other Y/N! Once you cross that line friendship can’t be used as a label. Do you ever think that Duri might be acting this way because you absolutely suck at hiding your feelings?!” His voice was sharper than ever and you could feel a sad squeeze in your heart. “So deal with the fact that I’m going to put my girlfriend first- regardless of what I feel for you.” There was the slightest hesitation and falter in his face at his last words, but you were too upset to decipher what exactly that meant. “ I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He said in a soft yet defeated voice, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and speechless.
The next few weeks were met with silence.  Jisung asked what had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You kept your pain buried, letting it fester in the corners of your mind. Chan had felt terrible for yelling at you, and had come over to apologize with extra snacks for your guys Friday night movie, but to his surprise, it was only Jisung who was there. 
“Where is Y/N?” Chan asked, setting down your favorite candy and chips on the reclining chair you always claimed. He looked around the corner to see if you were in your room. Your door was open and he walked in, looking at the little polaroids littered across your room on various walls and flat surfaces. He looked at your books and plushies with a soft smile. 
“She’s working overtime tonight. Do you want to watch a Marvel or DC movie?” Jisung called from the living room. Chan’s brow furrowed. He knew the company you worked for closed early on Fridays, all employees getting off early. Something he had realized after observing you for so long. 
“Marvel…” Chan called out, closing the door behind himself.
As suspected you weren’t working overtime. 
Rather as time passed, you found comfort in unexpected places. One of those places was the attractive man that one night, your neighbor Sunghoon. Who, much to your surprise, shared your interests and understood your silence without question. He became your confidant, your quiet escape from the heartache Chan had left behind.
“He’s probably over at my house right now with Jisung.” You had mumbled as you cuddled up on his side. Also, much to your surprise, Sunghoon was a great cuddle buddy. What was even better is that he wanted nothing in return, nor were there any ill intentions letting you grow close to him in an emotional and physical way. He had confided in you that a deeper intimacy was something he couldn’t ever see himself liking, which was why he was set on settling down alone, and that he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with, but with you he found himself not minding the soft physicality much at all. 
“Like we’re twin flames right.” You had joked, that day, holding out your pinky. He had nodded, locking pinkies with yours. 
“You’re right, but I am more than sure he won’t think to come over her-”
The doorbell rang and you sprung up from your position on the couch as Sunghoon made his way to the door. 
“Well speak of the devil…” He mumbled. 
Chan stood at the doorway of Jisung’s new neighbor, delivery food in his hand. He looked at the bag and considered the weight of the bag.
Maybe a couple having date night?
“Hello?” A tall and undeniably attractive man stood at the door. 
Damn…wow uh-
“Oh, hey! I think your delivery was sent to my friend’s house. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was here...” The man looked at Chan with a blank look. 
Are kids these days given supplements or something…why is he so majestic looking…
“Oh, thank you.” He said , bowing and grabbing the food.
Before the door was shut, Chan could’ve sworn he noticed a pair of familiar shoes, but disregarded it, making his way back to Jisung’s.
As more time passed, you found yourself missing Chan rather than getting over him. 
“Is it strange, Sungie?” you asked while you were building a puzzle with him one evening- another Friday. “That I’m absolutely pissed, and heartbroken, but I want nothing more than to see him? And I can’t think of anything other than I miss him?”
Sunghoon thought for a moment and then spoke softly. “No, it’s not strange at all. Rather, it’d be strange if you didn’t. Sometimes, love clings to us hardest when we’re hurting the most. It's like every part of you is aching for the one person who can make it better—even if they’re the one who hurt you. Missing him doesn’t make you weak; it just means he’s still a part of your heart. Sometimes, loving someone means feeling everything all at once—the anger, the heartbreak, and that unstoppable longing. It’s okay to feel it all."
You were at your house, and Sunghoon was over since he had become a regular visitor, after Jisung befriended him and then finally pieced together where you were going every Friday and other odd days of the week when you first heard the news. At first he had assumed you and Sunghoon were a thing until you both quickly shot down that notion by informing Jisung that relationships and love were not Sunghoon’s cup of tea.
But since he now knew that wasn’t the case, and had long since known the truth since your first and last drunk outing he thought you might want to know.
“They broke up. Strange enough, Chan didn’t seem all that upset—I mean, he did seem upset, but you think you’d be more upset when you break up, you know?” Jisung rambled, barely pausing for breath. “Instead, he was, like, really calm, which made no sense to me. I feel like I’d be freaking out, or, like, super sad, or anxious, or angry. How can you just be indifferent to a breakup with someone you thought was going to be the love of your life? It’s like those characters in anime—”
You tuned out Jisung’s voice, the news sinking in like stones in your stomach as you laid your head against Sunghoon’s side as he read the ingredients on an air freshener bottle while he waited for Jisung to finish warming up food. 
Chan and Duri had broken up. Your heart was a tangled mess of relief and pain, of memories you hadn’t let yourself fully process. After all those months, he was free—but what did it mean now? What did any of it mean when he’d already chosen her once?
As Jisung continued his rapid-fire monologue, you watched to the two people who had been a distraction these past few weeks: him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon, in a more practical way since he knew the depths of your doubts and worries, and easily fit into the spot of your platonic soulmate and best friend. It seemed he was more versed on the Chan-sized hole in your heart than even you were, and you were glad you now had him to walk these roads with you.
Eventually Jisung came back to the living room with dinner, and you were soon enough immersed into the activities of the evening. 
You were unaware what was about to go down when the knock at the door came, Jisung springing up to answer it, his laughter echoing down the hall as he let someone in. The air around you shifted, growing thicker, familiar, and before you even turned around, you knew who was standing there. 
You had known him long enough to sense when the man you loved was in the room. His presence filled it quickly enough, his gaze sweeping over the space, lingering a little too long on you and Sunghoon, who seemed to be molded together perfectly, Sunghoon’s arm lazily resting on your leg.
Jisung shot you an awkward glance before mumbling something about getting snacks from the store. He and Sunghoon exchanged a glance, and, with a silent nod Sunghoon got up, and they left, closing the door behind them. You were left alone with Chan in the thick silence that followed, the quiet pressing down around you.
Chan’s expression was tense, guarded, and yet, behind his eyes, you saw a trace of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward you, his voice soft. “Y/N…”
You met his gaze, pain simmering just beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath, guilt etched into the lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I should have listened to you. I didn’t… I couldn’t see it. I was so focused on Duri that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. She wasn’t loyal. I caught her cheating, and I realized just how wrong I was and how right you and Jisung were.”
His words landed between you, each one a mix of relief and ache that clawed at your heart. But you couldn’t ignore the questions tumbling through your mind—the doubts that held you back from even entertaining the hope you’d once felt. You folded your arms, steadying yourself as you looked away.
“Chan, I don’t even know what to say to you. It’s not just about her or your breakup,” you said, voice low.
The older boy flinched at your words. 
“Chan…” He mumbled. You had rarely ever spoken his name aloud like that before. So rarely he couldn’t even remember the last time you did, and he didn’t even recognize your voice when you said it. “I messed up horribly…didn’t I?”
 “You didn’t just choose her.” You started. “You looked me in the eyes and didn’t believe me. You accused me of saying things because of personal feelings. Then went on to accuse me of lying to you because I never confessed my feelings- even though apparently I did and you just omitted the truth of what I said when I blacked out as if that's not also a form of dishonesty. You thought I was trying to ruin your happiness, like I’d sabotage your relationship out of jealousy. Are you serious, Chan?”
He winced again, his hand reaching toward you as if he wanted to touch you but was too afraid. “I know, Y/N, and I hate that I did that to you. I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just… I needed you to know that I truly am am sorry. I didn’t think I had hurt you that badly and it was foolish.”
The hurt that had sat quietly in your heart surged to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you murmured, “So what? You’re here now because you need a rebound? You want someone to feel close to because she’s gone?”
Chan’s face fell, confusion and hurt flickering across his features. “What? No, Y/N, it’s not like that at all. You’re not some replacement or… or backup. You’ve never been that to me, ever.”
“Then what am I, Chan?” You shook your head, frustration and sorrow mingling together. “Because if I was the first one you come to- not even your best friend-” You said referring to your brother. “Than there has to be reason behind that. Let me guess, you feel something for me?” 
Chan swallowed and you knew his answer when you saw the look in his brown eyes. You let out and exasperated sigh and tried to hold back your tears, but couldn’t so you looked at the ground instead.
“If you really felt this way—if you really cared about me or dare I even say loved me…then why did you pick her? Why now, after you’ve been with her all this time? Am I supposed to believe that just because she’s out of the picture, you’ve suddenly realized what you want?” Your voice was sad and defeated and you let your tears fall. “If so that's really really mean.” You whined sadly.
His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s not because of that. Y/N, I was so stupid. I’ve spent these past few weeks… I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I lost you. I can’t just go back to how things were, but I know I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”
He paused until you looked up at him, his heart shattering even more at the glossiness behind your sad eyes. “It’s not that Y/N-ie not at all. Sometimes you really just don’t know what you’ve had until you lost it.
But something about his gaze shifted as he glanced back toward the door where Jisung and Sunghoon had left. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his brows drawn together in a dark, unreadable expression. “Guess I’ve already been replaced though, huh?” He said quietly.
You felt your stomach twist at his words, your tears drying almost immediately with the thought of where this was heading. “Replaced? What are you even talking about?”
“Your neighbor,” he said bitterly, albeit soft; the label sharp on his tongue. “You and him. I came here to tell you how much I’ve messed things up, only to see you with him. I guess it didn’t take long for you to move on.”
The accusation in his voice stung, leaving you feeling exposed. You bit back the urge to yell, to let out the anger that had simmered for so long. You knew it brought some validity to his earlier statement, him being jealous of Sunghoon, but God did you sometimes want to smack sense into him.
 “You don’t get to come in here and make assumptions about me, Chan. Sunghoon is my friend. He’s been here because you weren’t. Because you pushed me away. I didn’t have a choice.”
“But you looked happy cuddled with him,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “It didn’t seem like you missed me at all.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in your chest intensify. “Of course, I missed you. But you don’t get to accuse me of moving on. I waited. I wanted… I thought maybe one day you’d see me. But you chose her. You chose someone who didn’t even care about you, and I was the one left behind. So of course I needed comfort.”
He took a shaky breath, eyes softening as he stepped closer. “I chose wrong. I see that now, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to just forget that. But I can’t pretend now that I don’t feel something for you.”
You stared at him, searching his face for any hint of sincerity, but doubt gnawed at you. “We just went over this. How am I supposed to know it’s real? How am I supposed to believe that you actually want me, and not just because it’s convenient? If you loved me before than why not say something.”
“Why didn’t you say something!”
“Because unlike you I don’t go around dating people while I have a crush on someone Chan! If it was ‘oh so obvious’ than you should have said something. Or I don’t know, maybe when I blacked out and confessed you could have done something then-”
“I was petrified!” Chan shouted, causing you to take a step back. “How…how am I supposed to respond when my best friend’s little sister tells me she’s been in love with me since we were kids. And that’s its only growing?” He swallowed. “Am I supposed to take that risk and tell her its mutual, but that I don’t want to do anything in case things get messy? Because I don’t want to ruin things? Relationships are complicated Y/N! People fight and argue but romantic ones are so much heartier. Those arguments and fights hold more weight than friendships. I wasn’t…happy…only being your friend but I was content. Even if it meant I wouldn’t get to hold you or kiss you, or see your face in my children’s faces I was okay with that as long as it meant there was no risk in ruining things between us. And that saved me from the risk of getting on uneasy territory with Jisung. So I left it alone. I didn’t tell you. I asked Jisung to forget about it even if that meant he was upset at me for quote ‘rejecting my wonderful and perfect  little sister’ unquote.”
You stood there, lips trembling, not knowing what to say as he lay his heart in front of you.
He reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek in a tender, hesitant motion. “But now that I know what it’s like to live without you, Y/N,  I can’t go back to that. I can’t. I don’t want anyone else. I just want a chance to make this right.”
The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much, the raw honesty in his touch searing against your skin. But your heart still trembled with uncertainty, with a fear that ran deep.
“I’m petrified now.”
A tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen from your own eyes. “I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I love you, Y/N, so you won’t have a reason to be scared. I don’t want to lose you, not again. I was blind, but I see it now. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To get you to a point where you won’t be able to deny the fact I only want you.”
You held his gaze, your heart wavering between the hope you’d never fully let go of and the fear that he’d break it all over again. And in that quiet moment, with the ache of the past between you, a fragile, cautious feeling began to bloom once more.
You took a steadying breath, bracing yourself as you met Chan’s eyes. “Chan, I don’t know what assumptions you’ve made about Sunghoon, but he’s just my friend. He’s been there because…” You hesitated, the words delicate on your tongue. “Because I needed someone. Not someone to date, or to replace you, but just…someone who understands. He’s helped me pick up the pieces after everything fell apart. And he’s not even interested in relationships like that. We’re just close in a different way.”
Chan blinked, his gaze softening as he listened, brows knitting in a mixture of relief and confusion. “So… you and Sunghoon… you’re really just friends?”
“Yes,” you replied, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “And he’s not going to change his mind about that. He doesn’t want anything more with anyone. It’s not in him. But he’s been a good friend—my best friend…my soulmate really.” Your voice trailed off quietly. “He’s someone I could talk to when I felt like I’d lost you.”
Chan let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked away, processing. “I…I feel so stupid. I was so ready to believe you’d moved on, that you’d replaced me. It was like this nightmare I’d imagined every night, that you’d found someone else who actually deserved you. And when I walked in and saw you both…”
His words faltered, and he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and regret etched deep. “But I know I can’t blame you for being close to him. You had every right to find support after what I put you through. I just…”
“You just didn’t believe me,” you finished for him, the words raw but necessary. “And then you left, and I didn’t know how to fill that space you’d left behind but Sunghoon found a way. But that doesn’t mean he warrants any jealousy from you, Chris. I’m hoping you can learn to love him like you love Jisung. For me?”
He nodded, his eyes filled with regret.A part of you softened at the earnestness in his expression, the vulnerability that showed he understood, at least on some level, of what all of this meant. You sighed, feeling the weight of everything settling over you, but also immensely light.
But Chan seemed like he was struggling for a moment.
“Whats wrong?”
He bit his lip, his gaze darting away for a second before he finally asked, “Was there ever a point when…when you thought you could move on? That maybe you’d fall for someone else?”
The question struck deeper than you’d expected, and for a moment, you just looked at him, letting yourself process the vulnerability etched into his features. Did he truly think he could simply be replaced? That you’d spent years loving him, only to let him go?
“I thought about it,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “I thought maybe it would be easier if I could just let go. Even before all of this I thought about it. But no matter how much I tried, it was always you. It’s always been you.”
You felt the familiar sting of tears, and you blinked them away, not wanting him to see just how deeply his words affected you. “For the record, I don’t want to lose you either. But if we’re going to do this, we have to be honest. No more letting other people’s opinions get in the way. No more letting doubts fester between us.”
He nodded, a fierce determination filling his gaze. “No more doubts. I want us to be real, Y/N. Nothing standing in the way, just you and me.”
The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You felt the warmth of his hand as he reached for yours, his fingers tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d accept him.
You took his hand, squeezing it gently, grounding yourself in the quiet assurance of his touch. It wasn’t the grand gesture you’d once dreamed of, but it was real. And somehow, that made it mean even more.
He looked down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/N. I’ll spend every day showing you that I mean it.”
You offered him a small, tentative smile, one that held a flicker of hope. “And I’ll do my best to believe it. But you have to understand—this is going to take time.”
He nodded, his own smile softening his face. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
For a moment, you both stood there, hands entwined, caught in the delicate balance between past hurt and the fragile possibility of something new. The wounds might still be raw, but you could feel them beginning to heal, slowly, with each beat of your hearts in sync.
As you looked into his eyes, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a cautious, budding belief that maybe, just maybe, this time, things would be different.
A few weeks later, things had settled into a comfortable, tentative new rhythm. The past wasn’t forgotten, but it had softened around the edges, allowing something new to bloom between you and Chan—no, Chris. You’d started calling him that again recently, just between the two of you, and every time he heard it, his eyes lit up, as though it was his own quiet assurance that he had your forgiveness, that he wasn’t just “Chan,” your brother’s best friend, but Chris, the man you were falling for all over again.
You weren’t rushing anything, taking each moment as it came. There were stolen glances, shared laughter, and late-night conversations that stretched until dawn, weaving a new kind of trust between you. He was patient and gentle, letting you set the pace, and every step you took forward felt right. It was healing, a slow rekindling that felt like rediscovering a part of yourself that had been missing.
One Saturday afternoon, you and Chris were sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background as he leaned closer, his arm resting around your shoulders. Sunghoon and Jisung had left to get snacks- Chris listening to your request and giving Sunghoon a chance, finding out that he genuinely enjoyed the company of your best friend. 
“Its like eternal best friend double dates.” Jisung had joked.
But since your brother and best friend had left, Chan had been looking at you with that soft, adoring expression you’d only dreamed of before, and it made you feel like you were the only person in his world.
“You’re staring,” you whispered, smiling as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks.
“Can you blame me?” he murmured back, his voice warm and low. “I’ve missed so much time, I don’t want to miss a single moment now.”
You felt your heart stutter, a nervous excitement bubbling up as you glanced down at his hand, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of it. The space between you felt electric, and when he gently cupped your face, tilting it towards him, your breath caught. Slowly, as if asking permission, he leaned in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate kiss that felt like everything you’d waited for. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing gently as if he were afraid you might disappear. You kissed him back, your hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, strong and steady.
“Chris,” you whispered softly as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his name slipping out naturally, comfortably. The warmth in his eyes told you he’d heard everything you couldn’t put into words—how he was forgiven, how he was here, truly here, and that was all you’d ever wanted.
The tender moment, though, was cut short by a loud gasp and a stumbling sound near the doorway. You whipped around to see Jisung and Sunghoon standing there, both looking wide-eyed and more than a little surprised.
“Oh… I did not mean to see that,” Jisung said, covering his eyes dramatically, though you could see the smirk threatening to break through. “My best friend and my little sister? Wow, I was not prepared!”
Sunghoon, by contrast, grinned openly, the kind of grin that said he’d known this would happen all along. “Took you both long enough,” he teased, making his way over towards you to whack your head affectionately. “I was starting to think I’d have to do something drastic to get you two together.”
You laughed, face warm with embarrassment, but Chris only chuckled, unfazed even by Sunghoon’s physical touch with you, as he slid his arm around your shoulders again. “You two need to learn how to knock,” he said lightly, squeezing you a little closer.
Sunghoon just shrugged, shooting you a mischievous look. “I’m sure Jisung didn’t feel a need to consider having to knock on the door of his own home.”
Jisung laughed, giving Sunghoon a playful nudge. But then turning to Chan with a serious look. “I might still need to have ‘the talk’ with you, Hyung. I know we’ve known each other forever, but this is new territory.”
You rolled your eyes, pretending to scowl at your brother. “Oh, please, Ji. You never said anything before.”
“It’s because you weren’t actually together at the time! But now you are.”
Chris leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, a look of peace and contentment in his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, looking up at Jisung and Sunghoon, his tone serious yet gentle. “Not ever.”
Jisung nodded, his expression softening as he took in the scene. “Good. Just make sure you’re good to her, alright? Or else I’ll have to do the brotherly duty of fighting you or whatever older brothers are supposed to do…” He mumbled, turning towards Sunghoon for backup.
“Yeah…and I’ll do whatever a best friend does…” He said confused, shrugging as you laughed.
Chris’s grip tightened just slightly around your shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice low and steady. “She’s the most important person in my life.”
Jisung scrunched up his nose, pretending to gag. “Ugh, okay, I was prepared for the brother talk, but I did not sign up for the mushy romance stuff. Can you two not be gross for five seconds?”
Chris laughed, glancing down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll spare you… for now,” he said, giving you a playful nudge and a kiss to your nose
Sunghoon, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin. “Hey, give them a break, Jisung. They’ve got years of this to catch up on. And honestly, I’m enjoying the show.”
Jisung threw a pillow in Sunghoon’s direction. “Well then maybe you should go find yourself someone if you think it’s cute seeing how my best friend and sister act.” He teased, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe they’ll have a sister and then you can join our family.”
Sunghoon shuddered and shook his head. “No thank you. But Y/N’s kids will have an Uncle who spoils them.” He said, grabbing the bottle of Soju from the coffee table.
“Hey! I get the title of favorite Uncle automatically.” Jisung whined. “No fair.”
Sunghoon shrugged. “The favorite Uncle has to be from the maternal side.”
“The hypothetical-” He shot a look at you. “Mom in question is my sister!”
“Logic, doesn’t always logic my dear friend.”
As Sunghoon and Jisung went back and forth you laughed, settling into Chris’s embrace, feeling the warmth of home around you. You felt his smile without even looking and it made your heart leap. This, right here, was everything you’d hoped for and more. And as the teasing and laughter filled the room, you knew that no matter what, you were exactly where you were meant to be. With who you were meant to be with.
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brattyfics · 1 month ago
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Not So Secret Santa
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Summary: Eve Dillard’s favorite holiday has lost its sparkle since a painful breakup, leaving her to navigate another lonely Christmas. But when a familiar snow globe from a secret admirer resurfaces, she’s drawn back into the past. The gift leads her to reconnect with Terry Richmond, a high school friend and long-lost crush who’s returned from military service. As their reunion stirs up old feelings, Eve is reminded of the magic of the season and the possibility of rediscovered love.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Holiday Rom-Com Coded
Word Count: 11K+
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2024
Christmas had always been Eve Dillard’s favorite time of year.
The cold winter nights were perfect for curling up with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh pine wrapping around Eve like a warm hug. Dressed in her favorite cozy pajamas, she'd let the crackling gas fireplace set the mood while losing herself in the comfort of holiday classics. Christmas wasn’t just a season for Eve—it was part of her identity. Her parents had named her after the holiday, and her siblings carried that same festive spirit in their names: Joy, Noelle, and their baby brother, Emmanuelle.
In the Dillard house, Christmas was magic.
Her mother, Diane Dillard, always turned every room into a wonderland, filling it with sparkling ornaments and twinkling lights. The family hosted a Christmas Eve party that felt like a reunion, with friends and family gathered around a table full of treats: rich red velvet cake, fudgy brownies, and the smoothest frosted pound cake you could imagine. Eve and her siblings would stay up late decorating gingerbread houses, listening to the grown folks talk. Those late nights became a tradition that grounded her in the best kind of holiday joy.
But after Eve turned twenty-five, things started to shift.
Five Christmases ago, her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Keith, had shattered her heart. She’d tried to move on, ventured back into the dating scene, but each attempt ended in disappointment. With each passing holiday season, dating felt like an even more hopeless endeavor. The men in her age range were either already in relationships or still out here playing games with women’s hearts. Unfortunately, Christmas had become a cold reminder of what she didn’t have. 
Her siblings were all paired off—her two sisters had married solid, loving men and were chasing toddlers around the house. Even her baby brother had popped the question and was planning his wedding. And her parents? Their love was still as strong as ever, evident in the flirtatious teasing and laughter that echoed through the house whenever they bickered. There she was, the odd one out, especially during the holidays, when it seemed like everyone else was wrapped up in their own love stories.
Now, Christmas felt like a series of awkward work parties and forced smiles, nothing like the fun she remembered. If it wasn’t her aunties grilling her about meeting someone new, it was her cousins teasing her about her “bad luck” with men. The office celebrations, planned weeks ahead so coworkers could celebrate before their holiday leave, left the season feeling drawn out and exhausting. By the time Christmas Day arrived, the festivities felt stale, and Eve found herself just going through the motions, making polite conversation while secretly wishing she could fast-forward to January.
This year, things had gotten even more vexing—Eve had drawn Malik from IT for Secret Santa. Malik wasn’t bad to look at, but he spent more time flirting with every woman in the office than actually doing his job. His antics were enough to make Eve roll her eyes, turning the already-dreaded gift exchange into yet another holiday hurdle. Eventually, she settled on a simple set of pens and a plain notebook—safe, practical, and totally forgettable.
Even as she wrapped the gift, Eve felt the weight of monotony. With no new work crushes or dating prospects to look forward to, Eve’s workdays blurred together—endless paperwork, the same beige-gray office walls, and another holiday season passing in a haze of office chatter. It was easy to tune it all out, to just go through the motions. But then the day came—the day for the office gift exchange
“This one’s for Eve!” Ms. Ruby, the vibrant office manager, called out with her signature enthusiasm. At a proud seventy years young, Ms. Ruby was a force of nature, always stepping into the office with bold, jazzy outfits that matched her lively personality. “A gift from my husband, going on forty-something years strong!” she’d say with a wink whenever someone admired her latest accessory. Mr. Charles was forever splurging on a new costume jewelry set or a fresh pair of colorful shoes, each piece a reflection of his love for her style.
Eve rose from her seat, accepting the green gift bag with a polite smile. Maybe she’d never have a husband of forty-something years who appreciated her inside and out, but at least someone had remembered her favorite color. As she pulled back the tissue paper, her fingers brushed against something smooth and solid nestled inside.
When she lifted the delicate snow globe, Eve’s breath caught in her throat. Inside was a Black princess, a tiny crown perched on her head, surrounded by glittering snowflakes—just like the one she’d had as a child but lost during her senior year of high school.
"Oh my god!" Eve exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise and joy. She looked around the room, eyes sparkling. "Who got me this? I love it!" Her gaze swept across her coworkers, but everyone just shrugged, their smiles barely containing their amusement. Eve's eyes locked with Ms. Ruby’s, who wore a knowing smirk, as if she were in on some secret.
Whoever had chosen this gift had clearly gone to great lengths—it hadn’t been made in nearly twenty years. Who knew her well enough to find something so perfect? Who cared enough to hunt down something so meaningful? She dug through the bag for a card, hoping to find a name, but there was only a blank tag.
She shook the globe, and her eyes lit up as the snowflakes swirled around the princess. But then, tucked underneath it, a flash of highlighter pink caught her eye. She picked up the sticky note, the handwriting oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it right away: 
I hope you like this gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. From your secret admirer.
Eve scanned the room again, but no one said a word—not even Malik, who was wearing that same smug grin of his. Have I ever seen his handwriting? she wondered, cringing at the thought of him being her secret Santa. Still, the gift was too thoughtful to dismiss, and she couldn't help but feel touched. “Whoever did this, thank you so much,” she said, her voice sincere. “This is honestly the best gift I could’ve gotten.”
The mystery lingered with Eve throughout the rest of the day. She couldn’t help but keep glancing around, half-expecting someone to fess up about being her Secret Santa, but no one did. Eventually, she wandered over to Ruby’s desk, hoping for a clue.
“That defeats the whole point of Secret Santa, baby,” Ms. Ruby said with a laugh, shaking her head as she shuffled through some papers.
Eve leaned casually against the back of Ruby's ergonomic chair. "It's only a secret 'til the gift’s out the bag, Ms. Ruby," she teased. “You already went and told everybody else’s Secret Santa. What’s so special about mine?”
Ms. Ruby glanced up from her stack of paperwork, her eyes twinkling with mischief before she moved quicker than Eve could have expected, swatting her lightly on the behind with the pile of papers.
“Ms. Ruby!” Eve yelped, jumping to the side, a surprised laugh escaping her lips.
“I told you to leave me be so I can get some work done!” Ms. Ruby shooed her away, her lips curling into a mock-serious frown. Eve didn’t have to look twice to know the older woman was more about looking busy than actually doing any paperwork. Working was just her way of staying active—keeping her mind sharp, like the rest of her.
As Eve turned to walk away, she grinned, rolling her eyes. “That woman’s a whole mess,” she murmured under her breath, her lips curling in affection despite herself.
Thoughts of her mysterious Secret Santa stayed with Eve the whole way home, nagging at her while she threw together a quick dinner and cleaned the kitchen. She couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d opened the snow globe, trying to figure out who had picked it out for her. But by the time she’d showered and got comfortable for the evening, her mind had wandered to other things—like what outfit she was going to rock on Christmas Day. She was ready to stunt a little, show her cousins what being childless did for her pockets and her closet.
By the time Eve got to work the next morning, she’d managed to push the mystery to the back of her mind. That is, until she sat down at her desk and spotted another sticky note with that same, familiar handwriting:
I’m glad you liked the gift. I knew it’d bring that beautiful smile of yours to life. If you're wondering who's behind it, I’d love to show you. Meet me for lunch at 1:00 PM—there’s a new spot two blocks down, and I’ve got us a table. Hope you can make it, Eve.
Eve bit her bottom lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Meeting someone like this, all wrapped in mystery, didn’t exactly feel safe or smart. Why all the secrecy? Why leave notes instead of just saying it out loud? How did they know about her smile without even being there? Could her Secret Santa have been watching from the shadows all along, without ever revealing themselves? The thought sent a chill down her spine. But in the end, curiosity won out.
Eve made sure to let Ms. Ruby know where she’d be and when to expect her back. Ms. Ruby’s knowing smile eased her nerves just enough as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, the chill nipping at her cheeks. 
As she walked to the restaurant, Eve quickly texted her siblings the details—just to be safe. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the mystery hanging over her head.
When she stepped inside the restaurant, her gloved hands folded nervously in front of her, she took in the cozy ambiance. Soft R&B holiday classics played in the background, and the space glowed with candlelight and pine-scented garlands. Couples leaned in close, lost in their own world. Eve hesitated, feeling self-conscious standing alone at the entrance, until a young waitress approached her with a warm, welcoming smile.
"Are you Eve?"
Eve blinked, startled for a moment. "Yeah, that's me."
"Come on, I’ll show you to your table."
With a mix of curiosity and just a touch of apprehension, Eve followed the waitress further into the restaurant. “Where are we headed?” she asked, doing her best to keep her nerves in check.
“There’s a private area in the back,” the waitress replied with a friendly smile, leading her behind a velvet curtain. Despite the uneasy flutter in her chest, Eve pushed her doubts aside. She wasn’t about to turn back now after coming this far.
On the other side of the curtain, a single table was set up in the center of a cozy, golden-lit room. Sitting there, dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks, was a man she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. His rich honey-brown skin practically glowed in the soft light, and those blue-green eyes of his, sparkling with that same familiar warmth, made her heart skip a beat.
“Terry?” she whispered, the disbelief clear in her voice.
He stood, tall as she remembered, and before she knew it, she was in his arms. She jumped up, and he caught her easily, holding her close as she clung tightly to his neck
“It’s been way too long!” Eve exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as Terry lifted her off her feet, giving her a playful shake before setting her back down. The little girl inside her couldn’t help but squeal.
"Far too long," Terry agreed, his eyes softening as he met her gaze, holding her just a moment longer than necessary before gently lowering her back to the ground.
Eve slapped his arm, still grinning. "What are you doing here? When did you get back?"
“You haven’t changed a bit, Eve—still running that mouth a mile a minute,” Terry teased, his grin wide as he motioned for her to take a seat. Eve sank into the chair, but her gaze stayed locked on him, still struggling to believe he was really here.
They’d been close since childhood, but after graduation, Terry had enlisted in the Marines, and keeping in touch had been impossible. First, it was radio silence during boot camp, then sporadic updates as he climbed the ranks. Meanwhile, she’d dived into her studies, focused on finishing college and earning her degree, though thoughts of him had never been far from her mind. Every time she tried to reach out, something always got in the way.
Eve found herself momentarily frozen, taking in the scent of his cologne and the sharp look of his neatly styled short Afro. "You look good, Terry," she said, though the word "good" didn’t even come close to doing him justice. He’d filled out in all the right places, his frame broader than she remembered. It was clear the Marines had only made him more disciplined, more focused. The tall, lean teenager she remembered had transformed into a man who was clearly all grown up, his muscular build a testament to the years he'd spent shaping himself.
"You look even better." His gaze swept over her, making her pulse race. Eve couldn’t help the flutter in her chest, but she quickly shook it off. She’d grown into her own as well—filled out, gotten more comfortable in her skin, and her acne-prone days were long behind her. But this was Terry. He didn’t see her that way, and she was far too grown to be stuck on an old crush.
"So, for real, what brings you back home?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present.
"I'm done with the service now. Retired," Terry said with a shrug. "Figured it was time to come back home, settle down, and start a new chapter. Everyone I care about is here, so it felt like the right place to make it happen."
"Your mama must be over the moon!"
“Over the moon is an understatement,” he chuckled, the edges of his voice softening. “She wanted to throw me a big welcome-back party, but I told her I’d rather reconnect with folks one-on-one.”
"Well, I’m glad I made the list," Eve grinned. "I ran into your mom a few weeks ago, and she didn’t say anything about you coming back!"
Terry smirked. "She didn’t know yet. Can’t give her too much notice, or she’ll have the whole block—and probably folks from here to California—waiting to meet me at the airport." He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, making Eve feel that comforting pull of home she didn’t even realize she’d been missing.
Eve burst out laughing. "My mama’s the same way! I hear her on the phone all the time, talking about me like, ‘Evie’s still single, y’all; I guess she’s waiting on Jesus.’" She mimicked her mother’s voice so spot-on it had Terry cracking up.
“What happened with ol’ boy—what was his name again?” Terry teased, pretending to forget. Eve shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“You mean Keith? We called it quits a while ago.”
“What happened? I thought y’all were gonna be the next Barack and Michelle?”
Eve laughed, the humor hitting her differently now. “Life happened. It just wasn’t meant to be, and I’m good with that.” She wasn’t about to dive into the gory details. She’d healed and moved on. Keith was a chapter she’d closed long ago.
“You were way too good for him, anyway.” Eve’s heart skipped a beat, and she wasn’t prepared for the warmth that spread through her at his words.
She raised an eyebrow, suddenly piecing everything together. “Wait a minute—don’t tell me you were the one behind those secret admirer notes?”
“Guilty as charged,” Terry said with a grin. “Figured I owed you a snow globe after all these years.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You took my snow globe? I looked everywhere for that thing!”
“I didn’t take it,” Terry admitted, a guilty grin tugging at his lips. “But I did break it.”
Eve gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though he’d confessed to a grand crime. “You broke it?”
“It was an accident!” Terry quickly added, his chuckles softening the blow. “Your dad called you downstairs, and I got a little too close to the shelf. Next thing I know—glass shattering, glitter flying—everything was on the floor.”
Eve laughed, shaking her head, already picturing her younger self stomping around in frustration. But now, the whole situation seemed almost too ridiculous not to laugh about. “How’d you manage to hide it from me?”
“I cleaned it up quick and grabbed a towel from your bathroom. It was fine—except for the glitter. That stuff was everywhere—on the floor, on my hands. But since you never said anything, I figured I got away with it.”
“Terry Richmond,” Eve said with a playful squint, “You’re a whole mess!”
“But I made it right, didn’t I?” His smile was a slow, satisfied curve, his blue-green eyes sparkling with the joy of being so close to her again. “And when I saw that look on your face—”
“Wait, hold up,” Eve interrupted, her eyes narrowing playfully, “You were there yesterday?”
"Guess I forgot to mention it. We're coworkers now. I’m the head of security," He leaned back, his eyes locking with hers. "Been around, making sure everything’s tight," he added with a half-smile. He didn’t mention how he'd been keeping an eye on her from the cameras, just to make sure she was safe from all those corporate threats: staples, paper cuts, and heavy boxes…you know, the dangerous stuff. "It might sound crazy, but I couldn’t come at you until I knew I had made things right between us."
“That damn snow globe,” she mused, a smile tugging at her lips. Who would’ve thought her favorite childhood trinket would be the thing that brought her favorite person back? She reached out, taking his hands across the table. “I would’ve been glad to see you, no matter what.” He squeezed her hands, remembering the nervous flutter in his chest when he’d placed his bid on that snow globe. He wanted her to have it, and he didn’t hold back. “I know. But you deserve that—and so much more.”
Eve rolled her eyes playfully, though there was a flicker of something else in her gaze. “Cut it out with the compliments,” she teased, leaning back in her seat. “I’m gonna be walking around with a big head at this rate.”
“You already got a big—”
“—Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Terrence.”
They slipped into a comfortable rhythm, their banter flowing like it had never skipped a beat. It felt like no time had passed at all, like he’d never left and she’d never hidden the soft spot she’d always had for him. It was clear he still didn’t realize how deep her feelings for him ran. Still, something told her this Christmas was going to be one she’d never forget.
“We should do this again sometime,” Terry suggested as they walked back to the office, his tone casual but the hint of something more lingering in the air.
“Definitely,” Eve replied, but her thoughts drifted back to the past, to all the things she’d buried. The what-ifs. The could-have-beens. For now, though, she was content. Whatever this was, it was enough—for now.
“How about tonight?” Terry surprised her, his voice bringing her back to the moment. “We could grab some dinner, or I can bring something over. You still love that fried rice from Gogi Grill, right?” He grinned, already knowing the answer. Eve had always been a creature of habit when it came to good food. She stopped in her tracks, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t believe you remember! Of course I still love their fried rice.” She stressed the word love, making sure he heard it loud and clear. “And the—”
“—vegetable spring rolls. Yeah, I know.”
“That sounds so good.” she grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.
“What time works for you?” he asked, already getting his phone out. “I’ll bring it all.”
“Eight?” she replied, figuring that gave her just enough time to get home, unwind, and freshen up.
“I’ll be there at eight. Let me get your phone so I can save my number, and you can text me your new address.”
They walked back toward her desk, and Terry promised to see her later. The rest of the afternoon dragged, Eve barely getting any work done as her mind wandered, fixated on what was coming next. The second five o'clock hit, she nearly bolted out of the office. At home, she was a whirlwind—tidying, organizing, putting everything in order. By the time the doorbell rang, she had just slipped into a comfy graphic tee and yoga pants. No need to impress him—this was Terry.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” she greeted with a grin, stretching her arms wide as Terry’s gaze swept over her. She almost convinced herself she was imagining it.
“Feel free to bring the food to the living room. I’ve got plates and bean bags set up if that’s cool with you.”
“Works for me,” Terry replied, setting down the bags of food. As he dished out their plates, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, uncorking it and pouring them each a glass.
“You still watch those cheesy romance flicks?” Terry teased, flipping through the channels with a smirk.
“No,” she replied a little too quickly, though, she definitely did.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You don’t have to front for me. I know you too well.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re right. Can’t hide anything from you.” They eventually landed on a BET romance about a doctor secretly in love with his best friend, and Eve couldn’t help but notice the irony of it all. She thought about asking him to change the channel but decided against it, instead letting out a long sigh, a wave of longing she couldn’t quite explain washing over her.
“What’s wrong?” Terry’s voice softened with concern.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to brush it off, but his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it.
“Something’s on your mind,” he pressed gently. “Is it the food? Or something else?”
“Definitely not the food,” Eve answered, “I guess I’m just not feelin’ the movie. It’s... a little too cheesy, even for me.” Normally, these kinds of stories made her feel all warm and fuzzy, but tonight, it just hit differently—like a reminder of the things she might never have, especially with the man she’d always wanted sitting right next to her, still oblivious to her feelings.
“Really? I think it’s kind of sweet,” he said, and Eve froze mid-bite.
“Sweet? What’s gotten into you?” she teased, her eyebrows arched.
He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “When you like it, it’s romantic. But when I do, something’s gotta be wrong?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Man, every time I made you watch one of these back in the day, you complained the whole time,” she teased, her smirk growing.
“That was a long time ago. I was just a kid then. I’m a grown man now,” he shot back, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.
She looked him over, feeling the weight of his words in a way she hadn’t expected. “Alright, grown man,” she teased, trying to mask the sudden shift in her chest. “Guess it just threw me off, that’s all.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, his tone a little more challenging now.
“Because you were never the romantic type,” she said, but even as the words left her mouth, her heart couldn’t help but wonder if that had changed.
“How do you know that?” he shot back, his question hanging in the air like it meant something more. Eve felt a small pang in her chest. Maybe it was silly, but Terry always had a way of getting under her skin.
“I guess I don’t know, Terry,” she admitted quietly. “You’re right. I wouldn’t know what kind of romantic you are. You’ve always treated me like family.” The last words came out with a little more weight than she intended, a quiet bitterness lingering at the edges of her voice. She didn’t want to admit it, but it still stung.
Terry leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she wasn’t used to. “Only because I didn’t know how to be romantic back then,” he said, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Didn’t know how to flirt, didn’t know how to say what I felt.”
Her breath caught, a sudden heat creeping up her neck as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “I treated you the only way I knew how. Walked you home every day, carried your bag, made sure to save some of my mama’s fried dumplings for you. It might not have been flowers or poems, but I thought I was making it clear.”
Eve blinked, feeling the floor beneath her shift. “Terry, what are you saying?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, but her mind was already racing—was he really saying what she thought he was?
“I always liked you, Evie. Always,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I thought... I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
Her cheeks flushed deep, a rush of heat flooding her face at his words. The weight of the confession hit her in waves, stirring up feelings she'd buried for so long. "That’s not true. I was into you, too—really into you."
Terry’s eyes widened with surprise, a small smile breaking through as he processed her words. “But you were with Keith. You got engaged.” He’d seen the engagement photos on social media, and it had torn him up inside. Took everything not to call her phone and tell her she was making a mistake. But he’d convinced himself that the right thing to do would be to step back and let her find happiness without him.
She exhaled slowly, her throat tight with emotion. "He asked me to be his girlfriend... and later, to marry him. At the time, I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You were gone, and I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to tell you how I really felt," she said, her voice quieter now, as if the words were heavy. "I convinced myself that if I just moved on, I could forget you."
“Are you telling me,” Terry’s laugh was low, almost incredulous, but there was a warmth behind it—like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “that we both felt this way all along, and I just didn’t see it?”
Eve let out a breath, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, Terry. I think we both did.”
“Evie,” he began, his voice soft, almost reverent. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers—a touch so light it made her heart stutter. “All these years…” Her breath hitched. She didn’t pull back, but she wasn’t sure how to step forward either. 
Memories flooded her mind, sharp and vivid as if they’d happened yesterday—walking home together in the rain, Terry draping his jacket over her head to protect her crown. Splitting a basket of wings at the local chicken spot after school, making do with whatever change they could scrape together. His loud, carefree laugh always chasing away her bad days, like he could make the world feel right again without even trying. Those moments weren’t just the past, they were the foundation of everything they’d ever been. Terry had always been there, steady as sunrise, holding it down in ways she didn’t know how to name back then. 
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin. He leaned in just a little, his gaze searching hers, the air between them thick with longing. “Evie,” he whispered, his voice gentle but heavy with desire. “Can I kiss you?”
Her eyes flickered down to his lips before she gave a subtle nod. 
With a tenderness that made her heart race, Terry cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. They were softer than he’d imagined, and she let out a breathy sigh that sent a wave of warmth through him. His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips with a gentle squeeze as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like dark chocolate and candy canes—the kind of holiday goodies she loved, and now he couldn’t help but love them, too. Pulling away slowly, his gaze softened, serious now. “Evie, I’m not looking for something temporary. I want something real. Something lasting. Not just for the holidays or a good time.”He let the words hang in the air, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “This—us—I don't want it to be just another chapter in my life.”
"Terry," Eve whispered, her hand resting gently on his chest before sliding up to cup his face. "This is a lot… all at once. Before we go any further, I need to know we’re really on the same page." Her voice trembled slightly, her guard creeping back up. It wasn’t easy learning to trust again, to let her heart stay open after everything she’d been through. And with Terry... there was no way her heart wouldn’t get tangled up in this. As much as he hated the idea of stepping back, Terry understood where she was coming from. She wasn’t wrong—they had too much history to rush into something without thinking it through. Their lives were intertwined in so many ways: mutual friends, their parents practically family. He nodded, his voice steady and sincere. “I hear you, Evie. I got you. We’ll take this slow—whatever feels right for you.”
In the days that followed, Terry found any excuse to be around Eve. He’d joke about “checking the perimeter” at work, but really, he just wanted to be near her—catching glimpses of her at her desk, looking effortlessly stunning in those blue-light blocking glasses and preppy business casual outfits. He’d leave her little treats—those chocolate “kisses” she couldn’t resist—and sticky notes filled with jokes or random facts to make her smile. And sometimes, he'd offer to grab office supplies for her, like highlighters or paper clips, even though she could easily pick them up herself. It was his way of staying close, of showing her that he was there.
His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The women in the office—Ms. Ruby especially—seemed to flock to Eve’s desk, trying to catch a glimpse of Terry, pretending they needed something just for the chance to see him up close.
“I’m gonna tell Mr. Charles on you,” Eve teased Ms. Ruby one morning, grinning.
“What he don’t know won’t hurt him, baby,” Ms. Ruby shot back with a wink, fanning herself as she smirked. “I’m just lookin’. Ain’t no harm in that.”
Eve and Terry started syncing their lunches, making sure to carve out time outside of the office to be together. Eve introduced him to her favorite local deli, where he quickly became hooked on the sandwiches and pasta salad. One afternoon, they shared a plate of injera at an Ethiopian restaurant while Terry told stories about an Ethiopian guy he’d served with, their laughter filling the space between them as they reconnected and deepened their bond. Throughout it all, Terry was the perfect gentleman—opening doors, pulling out her chair, and offering her bites of whatever he was eating, especially when they ordered different dishes. It was those little moments, the simple kindness in his gestures, that made her heart swell and open to the possibility of a real future with him.
Even though Terry was crashing at his mom’s place until he found his own, most evenings, he was at hers. They’d curl up on her couch, the TV left forgotten as they lost themselves in each other—kissing, cuddling, fingers tracing over bare skin. No distractions, no rush—just being together. On those nights, Terry shared more stories from his time in the service, each one peeling back another layer of the man she was just beginning to rediscover. In return, she recounted the ups and downs of her college years—laughing over the good times and the challenges. She filled him in on her sisters, Joy and Noelle, and how they had both started families of their own. They laughed about how her brother, Emmanuelle, still couldn’t resist sticking his nose into everyone’s business, despite being engaged to the woman of his dreams.
Terry told her about his mom—how much she’d been enjoying having him back at home. She’d been lonely since his dad passed, and had tried to fill that void with "friends" who never quite measured up to Terry Sr. Eve could hear the love and concern in his voice, the way he cared for his mom’s well-being, even as he juggled his own life. Life hadn’t slowed down while they’d been apart, but now, with Terry back in her life, everything felt like it was falling into place.
Moving forward together felt just right, so Eve invited Terry and his mom, Gloria, to join her family for Christmas. It had been three whirlwind weeks since the Secret Santa exchange, but she couldn’t imagine celebrating her favorite holiday without him. Her mom was overjoyed to hear that Terry was back in town, and her dad—true to his warm, welcoming nature—was all for it, always saying, the more, the merrier. Gloria didn’t hesitate to accept, admitting it had been far too long since she’d seen the Dillards and even longer since she’d enjoyed a big family Christmas.
When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the doorbell rang, and Eve opened it to find Terry standing on the porch, holding a foil-covered pan in one hand and shrink-wrapped sweet potato pies in the other. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in a cream-colored cashmere sweater and navy blue slacks. Beside him, his mother, Gloria, was glowing—decked out in a vibrant red outfit with jingle bell earrings that softly jingled as she smiled warmly.
The sight of them, so full of the holiday spirit, made Eve’s heart swell with warmth.
“You didn’t have to bring anything, Ms. Gloria!” Eve said, smiling brightly.
“I always bake too many pies, baby, you know that,” Gloria replied with a wink. “At least they won’t go to waste this year.”
Eve chuckled, stepping aside to let them in. The moment the door swung closed, a mouthwatering scent filled the air, rich with the familiar, savory spices that brought her back to her childhood. Her eyes landed on the pan in Terry’s hands. “And what’s that?” she asked, voice filled with eager curiosity.
“What you think?” Terry grinned.
“Fried dumplings?”
“Fried up just the way you like them—crispy and golden,” he confirmed.
Eve couldn’t help herself—she did a little happy dance right there in the doorway, which sent Gloria into a fit of laughter.
“I made them just for you, sweet girl,” Gloria said, grinning. “I remember how much you loved these back in the day.”
“You’re the best, Ms. Gloria,” Eve said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Not a crumb of this is going to waste, I swear.”
Before Gloria could respond, a loud, familiar voice rang out from deeper inside the house. “Richmond!” Eve’s brother, Emmanuelle, appeared in the hallway, grinning wide. He made his way over to Terry, pulling him into a big, tight hug and giving him a friendly slap on the back. Terry adjusted the pan in his hand, leaning into the embrace. “Man, where you been at?”
Terry smirked, taking in the scene. “Right where I’m supposed to be, I guess.”
“Well, good to see you back, bro. Ain’t nobody here that can keep up with me on Uno except you.”
Emmanuelle’s loud greeting drew the rest of the family in like a magnet. Within moments, the entire Dillard crew had swarmed around Terry, wrapping him in hugs, back slaps, and warm greetings from every direction. Eve’s dad pulled him into a big rocking hug, her mom gave his shoulders a quick, affectionate pat, and her sisters squeezed him between chasing their toddlers, who zipped around the living room like little caffeinated elves, clearly hyped up on holiday treats. Terry soaked it all in. The Dillard house had always been full of life, and it was a relief to see that hadn’t changed. Some things were different, sure, but the love and warmth that mattered most were just the same.
“Let me take that off your hands, bruh,” Emmanuelle said, reaching for the pan. “I’ll put it with the rest of the food.”
“Uh-uh!” Eve cut in, snatching the pan before he could touch it. “You’re not slick.”
“Slick?” Emmanuelle raised a brow. “Girl, you that greedy? You can’t even trust me to take a pan to the kitchen?”
“I can’t trust you, period,” Eve shot back. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close. “Especially when I know you helped break my snow globe.”
Emmanuelle’s face twisted as he tried to recall what she was talking about.
“I know it was you,” she added, her eyes narrowing.
He smirked and turned to Terry. “You told her, man?”
Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t say a word. You just outed yourself.” He hadn’t revealed that he was shoved into the shelf, choosing to shield the younger man from being implicated in the "crime."
Emmanuelle shook his head, laughing. “That’s foul, sis. You really out here holding on to something from a over decade ago just to call me out? You oughta be ashamed. All this over some food? You that greedy?”
“I have to be!” Eve shot back. “I’ve been dealing with you my whole life. Ashley, I don’t know how you handle this man. He’s been eating entire meals by himself since he was ten.”
Ashley, Emmanuelle’s fiancé, strolled by, tossing her husband a look. “Girl, I just cook double and call it a day.” The room erupted into laughter as the family buzzed around them, settling into the lively chaos that made Christmas at the Dillard house unforgettable.
An hour later, everyone gathered around the table, plates piled high with Christmas Eve dishes: smothered chicken over rice, cabbage cooked with bacon, buttery rolls, and generous helpings of Ms. Gloria’s Carribbean spiced dumplings. The real feast—the honey-glazed ham, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, smoked turkey, and sautéed okra—was waiting for Christmas Day. But tonight, this was more than enough. They joined hands and bowed their heads as the family prayed, offering blessings for their health, happiness, and the year to come.
“So, Terry, when’d you get back, bruh?” Emmanuelle asked, already halfway through a second helping of chicken and rice.
“Been about seven weeks. Almost two months now,” Terry replied, taking a sip of sweet tea.
“What?” Emmanuelle looked up, fork in midair. “Why ain’t I seen you yet?”
“I’ve been laying low,” Terry said. “Getting used to civilian life again.”
Emmanuelle turned to Eve with a mock-serious expression. “Evie, why didn’t you tell me my boy was back?”
She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I didn’t even know he was back until a couple of weeks ago."
From the corner of her eye, Eve noticed her sisters straightening up, ears clearly tuned in. She knew that look—they smelled tea brewing. When she didn’t respond right away, Emmanuelle leaned in, fanning the flames.
“How’d y’all reconnect anyway?” he asked, eyes narrowed playfully.
Eve cleared her throat, keeping her tone light but firm. “We work together now.”
That should’ve been the end of it, but she could see her brother’s curiosity growing. The last thing she needed was for her family to get too nosy about her and Terry. It wasn’t that she was hiding anything, but it was still too early for outside opinions to complicate things.
“Oh, okay, so you saw him at the office,” Emmanuelle said, smirking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why are you grilling me, E-Man?” Eve shot back, raising a brow.
“Grilling? I’m just asking questions!”
“Terry, what are you doing at the company?” her mom, Diane, chimed in, cutting through the sibling banter.
“Security,” Terry replied, pausing to wipe his mouth. “Keeping the building safe and making sure everything runs smooth.”
Joy, one of Eve’s sisters, leaned back with a sly smile. “Didn’t know the corporate world was so dangerous,” she teased, sipping her spiked sweet tea. “Bet all the ladies in the office are feeling extra secure with you around."
Eve shot her a warning look, but Terry didn’t flinch.
“It’s not really about danger,” he explained. “It’s more about protecting sensitive info. Everything’s a target these days.” He paused, letting his words settle as he caught the curious looks around the table. “But it’s a good change of pace from the military. I like it. Plus, I’m saving up to start my own private security firm someday. I want to give other brothers coming out of the service a chance to transition into something solid. Help them find their footing again.”
The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them.
“That’s solid, bro,” Emmanuelle said, giving a nod of approval. “We need more folks doing that. Respect, man.”
Eve caught herself smiling at him, a quiet pride swelling inside her as she watched how effortlessly he commanded respect from everyone at the table. She’d seen it in the weeks since they’d reconnected—the way his presence shifted the energy in any room. People either stepped aside or flocked to him, drawn to his quiet confidence. He set the tone, and it was so damn attractive. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice how the affection lighting up her face hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the room.
“Well, are you single, Terry?” her father, Ed, asked without missing a beat. He’d always had a feeling there was something between his little Eve and the Richmond boy. He’d sensed it even back when Terry was still too young and unsure to act on it. But the man sitting in front of him now was someone he could respect—someone he could trust with his baby girl.
“Dad!” Eve protested, her face flushing. But before she could say another word, Gloria, Terry’s mom, jumped in with a playful grin.
“He sure is!” Gloria chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Terry shot his mom a look of surprise.
“Really?” Diane, Eve’s mom, asked, raising an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Eve’s siblings were doing their best to hide their snickering. Eve’s little niece sat on Noelle’s lap, eyes wide, watching the exchange with interest.
“You know, Evie’s single too,” Diane added with a knowing smile, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself.
“Mommy—”
“I’m just saying, baby,” Diane said, holding her hands up in mock innocence. The room fell into an expectant silence, all eyes locked on them.
Eve shot Terry a look, shaking her head. Their families just couldn’t resist stirring the pot. She thought, Black folks and their matchmaking. Terry grinned and casually draped an arm over the back of her chair, giving her a look that said, Forget it. Might as well lean into it now. Several sets of eyes snapped in their direction, keen to catch every little moment.
Eve and Terry exchanged a quiet glance, a wordless conversation passing between them before she finally decided to rip the Band-Aid off. “Well, since you’re all in my business,” Eve said with a sigh, “Terry and I have been seeing each other. Just a little while, though. We’re taking it slow.”
It was like a buzzer went off at a championship basketball game—everyone erupted with hoots, hollers, and excited chatter.
“I knew it!”
“Talking ‘bout I’m not slick– girl, you not slick!”
“That’s why she been dodging my calls!”
Terry’s mom elbowed him playfully, her face lighting up with a grin. “Why you didn’t tell me, baby?” She’d suspected something was up with all the late hours he had been keeping, but she’d kept quiet, not wanting to push him too fast. Now, though, seeing the joy on his face, she couldn’t help but be happy for them. 
Terry looked at his mom, his expression softening as he took in her beaming face. It had been too long since he’d seen her this genuinely happy. He gently covered her hand with his own. “We’re still getting to know each other again, Mama. Taking it slow, ‘cause we want to do it right. Didn’t want to tell anyone too soon, or get your hopes up, just in case.”
“It’ll work out,” Gloria said with a smile that was both warm and knowing. “You’re just like your daddy—considerate, kind, protective, dependable. You’re a good man. Anybody would be lucky to have you in their life. And Eve, she’s a great girl. The best, if you ask me. She knows you for who you are, flaws and all. She’s solid, knows herself, and she’s the kind of woman you want by your side. Y’all can make it work, if you both want to…”
Terry’s gaze drifted to the back of Eve’s head as she laughed and talked with her family, fully in her element. It was magnetic. He couldn’t help but think, She’s the one.
“…and I suspect you do.”
Eve caught snippets of the conversation between Terry and her mom, her own voice blending with the chatter around her. “Yeah, mama, we’ll make it,” she heard Terry say, his voice steady, confident.
“You calling it a night after this? Heading home?” Eve asked when her family finally gave her a break from answering questions.
“That wasn’t really the plan.” Terry smirked, his gaze steady on hers. 
Bet, she thought, fighting the urge to grab his hand and tell everyone they were out.
After dinner, they exchanged Christmas Eve gifts with the family. Eve had gotten Terry a new tactical backpack for his camping trips. He’d mentioned before how much he loved getting away to the woods, disconnecting from the world, and reconnecting with nature. She also picked out a cute elephant trinket for his mom, a nod to Ms. Gloria’s sorority, representing strength and resilience. In return, Terry had gifted her parents a beautifully wood-burned sign that read Dillard Family Home. Her parents adored it, and her dad wasted no time putting Terry to work, hanging it up above the door.
Her nieces and nephews tore through their gifts from Uncle Emmanuelle, too big for them to manage on their own, immediately enlisting the adults to help set up toys, insert batteries, and get the noise blasting from their new gadgets. Eve played the dutiful auntie, pitching in to help get the kids settled before she attempted to make a quiet exit, a little earlier than usual.
Her sisters weren’t letting her off that easy, though. They cornered her near the foyer while Terry helped his mom put on her shoes. “No you don’t, girl,” Noelle whispered, with a mischievous grin, while she and Joy surrounded Eve like two sharks on the hunt.
Eve tried to play it cool. “We need to get Ms. Gloria home before it gets too late.”
Joy leaned in close, her voice dripping with teasing. “Girl, please. We already know what’s up. After you drop Ms. Gloria off, you’re gonna be right back with Terry. I been sneaking around long before you even started.”
Eve rolled her eyes, trying to keep it moving while they giggled behind her.
Terry quickly helped his mom settle into her house while Eve sat in the car, fidgeting in the seat, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. When he stepped back outside into the crisp evening air, she reminded herself to get it together. It’s just Terry. 
The whole ride felt charged, the air between them thick with unspoken words, teetering on the edge of something both of them were ready to step into. Eve caught herself stealing glances at Terry, her stomach flipping each time his fingers drummed on the steering wheel or his lips twitched into a half-smile. By the time they reached the family home and she slid into her car, she could barely keep her composure. The drive back to her place was a blur of thoughts, her heartbeat drowning out the soft hum of Christmas music on the radio. Enough. Enough holding back.
When Terry knocked on her door a little while later, she didn’t hesitate. She opened it, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside. Without a word, she led him to her room. The space was warm and inviting–signature seasonal scents wafted through the air, and a small four-foot tree twinkled in the corner. Low, sultry R&B Christmas classics filled the room, the perfect soundtrack for everything she wasn’t saying.
“Sit,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, gesturing to the bed. She opened her bedside drawer, pulled out a small gold-foiled packet, and placed it on the comforter beside him. “I know what I want. I want you. I want us.”
She stepped between his legs, loving the way his strong hands explored the curve of her back and sides as their lips met.  She’d had a quick sip of wine while waiting for him, just enough to quiet her nerves. The lingering warmth of it heightened every sensation, making her feel energized and bold. She gently cradled Terry’s head against her chest, her breaths coming soft and uneven as she tried to steady herself.
“I’ve been all in, Eve,” he said, his voice low and unshakable. “Always.”
She let her fingers trail along his warm skin, grounding herself in the reality of him—not just the fantasy she’d kept alive in her mind. Terry was the dangerous kind of handsome, the kind that should come with a warning label. He kissed her softly at first, but his touch grew more demanding and insistent as she shed her clothes. Eve straddled his lap, moving closer, spurred on by the way he held her—like she was precious, worth cherishing, and meant to be kept all to himself.
“You’re safe with me,” Terry promised, his lips brushing her ear. “Always.”
And she believed him. She melted into his touch, surrendering to the intoxicating thrill—and the quiet fear—of letting herself fall. Of trusting. Of daring to believe this could be the start of something real, as he effortlessly flipped them so that he was on top. "Thought about you like this," she admitted softly, helping him lift his shirt over his head to reveal the firm contours of his abdomen. "On top of me, just like this."
Terry's gaze locked on hers, dark and intense. 
“Tell me what else you thought about,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. He wanted her to let whatever she was feeling spill out. Eve was usually guarded, always careful with how much she gave, but now, with him, she didn’t hold back.
She reached down, her fingers curling around his dick through his boxers. "I’ve been thinking about this," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "What you’d feel like... what it would be like to have you inside me. I’ve waited so long... I almost don’t want to ruin the fantasy." She teased, biting her bottom lip, a playful spark in her eyes. She could feel it—the way that set him on fire. Terry felt his control slipping. Every part of him was primed, ready to unleash it all on her. "Pull it out and see for yourself." 
Eve wrapped both hands around him, her touch slow and deliberate, as her fingers explored every inch. She gasped softly at how hot and heavy he felt, even thicker she had realized. "God," she whispered, feeling her body respond to the sensation of him in her hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of him slapping that fat tip against her clit. She imagined how he’d feel inside her—wondering if he’d be slow and methodical, or more rushed and rough. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t mind.
Above her, Terry’s breath caught as he tugged his boxers down, guiding her hand to him more firmly. His chest rose and fell as his mind tried to stay clear. She glanced up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. Spitting a thick glob into her hand, she spread it over him with slow, deliberate strokes. Her eyes never left his, watching him unravel under her touch. His face was tight, eyes flickering between her movements and the ceiling as he groaned softly. The sound stirred something deep inside her.
"You want me to take you in my mouth?" she whispered, her voice soft and sweet, as if she were asking the simplest question in the world.
Terry couldn’t respond immediately. His mind was lost in the heat of the moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on. But when her fingers traced over his balls, kneading them with a slow, firm touch, he couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from his lips. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his dick, her puckered lips gliding sensually over the slick skin. “It’s so beautiful, baby. Thick, too.” She giggled, enjoying the way his hips stuttered when she tongued the leaky tip.
“You’re actin’ up,” Terry groaned, his breath shaky. With one swift movement, he shifted onto his knees, lining himself up with her mouth. “Open up,” he urged, his voice low with desire. He couldn’t wait any longer. Terry fed her his length, hissing loudly when her mouth closed around him, hot and wet. “Mmm... That’s exactly what I want.” 
Eve surprised him by staring into his eyes as she worked her mouth around his length, brown eyes captivating him like a spell. Her hands moved over him, soft yet taunting until he was powerless under touch. 
"You’re gorgeous, you know that?"
"Yes, baby, keep working those hands—just like that."
“You’re perfect, Evie.” 
Terry groaned, his blue-green eyes locked on her. He could hardly believe he had the girl of his dreams under him, ready and willing to please him. "Nobody’s perfect, but I’ll take the compliment." Eve paused, her hands gently running over him as she caught her breath, wetness gathering around the corners of her mouth.
Terry tugged at her bra strap, his voice low with need. “Take this off.” She shifted, unhooking it, and letting it fall to her lap. He stroked himself, remembering the night she let him play with her titties on her couch. He was worked up from all the kissing with no follow through, and she offered to help him release some of that tension. He kissed her breasts while she sighed and worked her hips against him. He tasted her nipples and she arched her back for more. He teased them with his fingers and his mouth, pinching and tugging until she was rocking back and forth in his lap. She panted while he held her in place, thrusting his dick up into her clothed core until they were both coming in their clothes. He almost stayed that night. She clung to him afterward, silently pleading for him to end their self-imposed misery. It took every ounce of restraint for him to leave, but he couldn’t let her body make a choice her mind wasn’t ready to make. Now, he had no more reasons to resist.
“Lay back,” He ordered, shifting to straddle her waist. The new angle had him right where he wanted to be. Close enough to stroke himself against her soft skin and watch the way she responded to him.
"You want to let it all out, don’t you?" She licked her lips, watching his dick twitch in his hand. "I can see it in your eyes. Looks like it's killing you." The tip was an angry red shade. His balls were drawn tight. Her clit pulsed with desire. “You ain’t gotta hold back with me. I want everything.” She promised, her voice soft and alluring, as if she could sense his every need. Terry’s breath hitched, his control slipping. Every part of him was drawn to her. 
“You’re gonna make me lose it, baby.” Terry’s voice was low, a growl in the back of his throat. He couldn’t think straight, especially when she took him into her mouth again, the heat sending him into a frenzy. Her hands slid over her own body, teasing her breasts the way he liked as she felt the fire building in her. The way he reacted, panting and whimpering pushed her even closer to the edge. “Hold up–” He started, but she was insistent, forcing her throat down his length until she was gagging. Terry’s body jerked above her, and he spilled warm cum into her mouth and then onto her plump breasts without warning. “Fuck, Evie,” He groaned as she chased him with her mouth. He’d meant to warn her, but that greedy little mouth of hers was too tempting. He fell into place next to her, catching his breath. She didn’t seem to care about the mess. In fact, she looked pleased with herself, giggling as he apologized lowly. She told him there was no need. 
"You know we don’t have to pretend with each other, right?" She asked, sensually rubbing his seed into her skin. He watched her slow, seductive movements, wondering how he got so lucky. 
“You’re wild.” He felt his dick stirring to life again. “Sit on my face,” he ordered, guiding her to squat above his head. 
"This position is new for me," she confessed, feeling a flutter of excitement in her belly. “You don’t have to do anything but relax,” Terry hooked his arms under her leg and held her in place. “Leave the work to me,” Terry pulled her down, keeping a firm grip on her legs as he licked between them. At first, it was tentative, a slow exploration as he took his time learning her body, what made her sigh and moan. But soon, desire took over, and he became more urgent, more greedy. She ran her hand over his head, experimenting with the sensation of moving her hips. 
“That feels so good,” She whimpered, loving the leverage the position gave her. Terry seemed perfectly attuned to her every reaction, adjusting his moves based on what made her shiver or sigh. She shut her eyes and quickened her rhythm, breathing heavily with pleasure. With a smirk, Terry took a moment to tease her. “You like when I lick your pussy like this?”
“Yes!”
“Keep grindin’ this wet pussy on my face.”
Eve whimpered.
He encouraged her to move her hips faster with soft taps to her ass. She trembled, unable to focus on anything other than the way his tongue felt. Her eyes drifted down to the sight of him between her legs. “Don’t stop–please don’t stop,” She mewled, no longer in control of her own body. It felt like watching a train wreck, knowing something earth-shattering was coming, but being powerless to stop it. “Terry, please!” She gripped the sheets as hard as her fists would allow, crying out as she reached her peak. 
Terry spoke, his voice a low hum as he repositioned her, but she was too dazed to make sense of anything, still floating back down to Earth.
“You good, Princess?”
She blinked, trying to focus as his face came back into view. "Huh?"
Terry chuckled softly, and she buried her face in his neck, letting her body relax against him.
"Evie?"
She felt his hands slide over her back.
"Hmm?"
"You ain’t about to pass out on me, are you?"
"I’m trying not to..." But he kept gently coaxing her, luring her toward sleep with tender kisses and soft whispers. “But you’re tempting me.” She warned, feeling his dick harden against her stomach all over again. 
She sat up on her knees, rubbing her eyes as she looked at him. "How do you want me?" 
"You’re too cute." He said, patting her bottom softly. “Come get in my lap.”
Terry kissed her sweetly, his dick hardening and prodding at her backside. She reached back to touch it, feeling that it was hard as steel and slick, all over again. “Wow,” She laughed softly between their kisses, feeling the intensity of his desire. “You can't get enough of me, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, the playful tension turning into something more serious. “I want you to know I thought about you every day I was gone. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Imagining you like this... all mine.” He gently smoothed his hands along the sides of her hair, trying to tame the wild curls that had grown bigger with all the sweating and rolling around. “I’d lie on my cot, seeing your face in my mind. Every night.”
"Terry… you really shouldn’t say things like that," she said, her voice soft with sudden shyness.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He challenged. Eve swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze. Terry had a way of making her feel seen, like all her walls had been torn down, yet she was safe. She took a breath, reminding herself that she could let her heart lead with him. 
"Because I'm falling for you and when you say things like that, it makes it so much harder for me to keep it together."
“Why are you acting like you gotta fight this, Eve?” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s us.” He took her hands in his, stilling them. 
“What if I told you I feel the same way?” She could hardly believe he was saying the words she had wanted to hear over a decade ago. Even if this was some strangely vivid dream she’d drummed up as a result of her Christmas Blues, she wanted to soak in every word, every moment. “I love you, Eve Dillard. I’ve loved you for a long time. I’m sure of it. More than anything else in this world.”
“Terry Richmond...” She started, almost at a loss for words. Hearing him declare it so openly made her feel like she was floating in the clouds. “I love you too.”
“Yeah? You sure?” He teased. 
“Uh huh,” She hummed, feeling his fingers splay across her thighs.
“I wanna show you how much. Can I?"
She nodded.
“You want me, Evie?” 
She nodded her head. 
His hand landed firmly on her ass, and she let out a startled whimper as she lurched forward in his arms. The sound shot straight to his dick. "You gotta let me know, sweetheart." 
“Yes, I want you, Terry. All of you.” 
Eve didn’t know what was possessing her, making her so open and submissive. She told Terry he was everything she’d ever dreamed of and that she couldn’t imagine a future without him. He told her she didn’t have to. She kissed him deeply, tasting herself as he alternated smacks on both sides of her ass until he was satisfied and lining himself up at her entrance. Her mouth fell open as he pushed his way inside. “Fuck,” Terry cursed as she clutched his arms with that shocked look on her face. He kissed her lips and then her jaw, all tender and sweet. “You’re okay. I got you,” He promised, groaning when she began to open up for him. His large hands slid down her body, settling over her hips as he began lifting her up and down on his dick. Eve buried her face in his neck, biting her lip as Terry slammed into her. He grunted his satisfaction as she dripped down his length and made a mess.
“You feel so good, Evie.”
“Squeezing me so tight.”
“All mine.”
“Give it to me, Princess.”
His words pushed her closer to the edge until she could hardly breathe, gripping his neck and shoulders like he was her lifeline. “You’re drivin’ me crazy!” She moaned into his ear, her walls squeezing around his dick. “Good,” Terry grunted, “That's how I want you. Crazy about me and this dick.” Her eyes rolled back as he pumped his hips harder, the strain in his voice evident. “You were made for this dick, just like I was made for this perfect little pussy.” He poked something inside of her that made her holler. But Terry was shushing her, holding her tight to his chest and cooing in her ear. "Let it happen, baby. I got you. I know what you need. You can take it."
She placed her hands flat against his chest. His grip on her hips were still iron tight. "C’mon now, Evie. Be good to me. You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?" His words worked the way he intended. She surrendered, laying her head across his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he worked her over. "That’s it, baby. I told you you were perfect. How you feel now?"
She dug her nails into his skin and concentrated on keeping her eyes from crossing. You know how it feels, you bastard! She thought, but the only words spilling out of her mouth were sweet and agreeable. She told him how good he felt, how no one else had ever made her feel that way, and that she wanted him to make her feel that way for the rest of their lives. He told her that he loved her and she was the only one for him. She cried, warm teardrops spilling over his skin as she came, yelling his name. Terry held her in place, capturing her lips in another long kiss as he finished, wishing there was nothing in between them.
Eve’s head rested against Terry’s chest, her body limp from exhaustion. Breathless and completely satisfied, they stayed close for several minutes, catching their breath. Slowly, Terry began to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her damp forehead.
"You good, mama?"
“Mhm,” She mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. “I'm just...worn out." She said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
“Me too,” Terry admitted, his hand caressing her back softly. He never wanted this moment to end. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was on her, focused and intense. It took her breath away.
“Why you looking at me like that?” 
“Take a guess,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
She didn’t need to guess. Everything between them—every unspoken desire—was no longer hanging in the balance. It had all become real. Her thoughts wandered to the future—wedding rings, little feet running around. “You want to marry me and have five babies?” she teased, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.
Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You think that’s funny, huh?” She shrugged, her fingers gently tracing his jawline, “Guess I’m funny and fine.” His smile widened, his gaze filled with something unreadable. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Her fingers gently caressed his mustache, her voice a soft whisper as she murmured, "I love you, Terry. I really do."
"I love you too, Evie.”
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2025
Christmas Eve had always been special, but this year, Terry was determined to make it unforgettable.
Eve turned away from the window where she’d been watching the snow fall gently outside. It was a rare sight in the South, a phenomenon that only happened once or twice a decade, and she cherished every second of it. Terry had left her by the window, disappearing into the bedroom, only to return a few moments later, standing by the gas fireplace with a small, neatly wrapped box in his hands.
“What you over there scheming?” she teased with a curious smile.
Terry looked over at her, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide. “Come here, babe.”
Eve took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. “What’s this? You acting all secretive now?”
Terry extended the box to her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Just open it and see.”
Eve carefully untied the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate snow globe. She lifted it, tilting it slightly to watch the glittery snow swirl around the two tiny figures inside. At first, she thought it was just a beautiful decoration, but as she took a closer look, the details caught her eye: the woman inside wore a dress that looked remarkably like the one she had worn the year before on Christmas Eve, and the man was down on one knee.
“Hold up... is this us?” Eve gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Terry, her heart pounding. “Terry! Where did you even find something like this?” She knew it wasn’t something you could just pick up at a store. It was clearly custom-made.
Terry stepped closer, his deep brown eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. “I wanted you to have something special, something that showed you just how much you mean to me. Every detail, every piece of it... is us.”
Eve’s tears spilled over as she held the snow globe close to her chest. “Terry…” 
He gently took her free hand, sinking down on one knee in front of her, mimicking the figurine in the globe. She stared at him, her breath catching, as he pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket.
“Eve, you’ve been my everything from the moment I met you. It took too long for me to face that, but now, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”
She nodded, tears spilling over before she could even speak. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, baby, yes."
Terry stood, pulling her into his arms as she laughed and cried at the same time. The snow globe rested safely in her hand, the tiny figures inside capturing the essence of their love—timeless, unwavering, and entirely their own.
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A/N: Happy Holidays! Divider by firefly-graphics. The themes included were for storytelling purposes only. The holidays can be enjoyed with family, friends, or even on your own.
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lilcathsmith · 5 days ago
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"Booth and Brennan always seemed so solid" ... do they???
New crime show obsession?
I've finally decided to dive into the world of Bones and I'm going to take you on the journey with me! So here goes!
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☆☆☆
I've watched the pilot and am immediately into it. I'm intrigued by the focus of the show as when I'm watching CSI I find the scenes where they recontruct a victims face from the skull really cool and the people who do irl and soooo talented!
Also, the opening scene? The skull in the bag? Obsessed!
Already in love with Brennan and Booth's dynamic, feels very Finn/Russell - there's been some angst in the past that we haven't let go of - I'm excited for their back-and-forth-banter.
Straight away, I like Brennan and Riva, they're funny and cool and I hope they have as good of a relationship as this first episode has shown.
I probably won't write my thoughts on EVERY episode, maybe do mid-season and season finale summaries idk we'll see!
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p1utofairy · 1 year ago
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PAC: “are you down to be a distraction, baby?” 🐅🖤🪄🌟
• how will your person approach you?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i’ve had trouble uploading this ugh it wasn’t coming out how i wanted but here we go <3 feels like it’s been forever 🥲 enjoy!
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pile 1 ↓
“could you blame me for needing you? you’re the reason i got a weakness, oh, no you drive me crazy, still that's my baby. can’t get enough of you. baby, it's somethin' that you do.”
hiii pile 1! i'm immediately hearing that your person is enamored by you. they love the way you walk, the way you smile, the way you talk, the way you smell…quite literally everything. i see them staring at you a lot, it might not be obvious at first but they’re gonna try to feel you out/see if your receptive to their vibe. they’re like a cat lurking in the shadows i’m hearing. more than likely, you won’t even be focused on getting into a relationship or actively looking for a partner before they pop up on your radar; your person will just come to you. i see them coming up to you in a slightly crowded or busy environment and saying something sly but it doesn’t come out the way they intended lol they might stutter over their words and then kick themselves over it later. awww it’s cute, you get them flustered and nervous. you may not think that you’re intimidating (actually i’m picking up that some of you might be a bit reserved/quiet) but your presence shakes them to the core. it’s like all their calmness goes out the window when they’re face to face with you. you get their heart racing, palms sweaty and mind wandering but they’ll try to put on their brave face and act like they’re not having a whole meltdown inside. LMFAOOOOO they won’t even know what to do with themselves, you’ve got them down bad. i just heard “i’ve fallen and i can’t get up!” lol i think this is what’s gonna get the ball rolling on this new beginning with them; your humor. even if they don’t have the smoothest delivery, you won’t hold it against them you’ll just keep the conversation going and vibe with them. they’ll love this about you…how non-judgmental you are. they can be themselves around you 🥹 and as you two get more comfortable around each other, you’ll both be able to open up and talk about everything under the sun. awww so cute pile 1!
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pile 2 ↓
“i'll be your groupie, baby. ‘cause you are my superstar. i’m your number one fan, give me your autograph. sign it right here on my heart.”
pile 2…when i say your person’s eyes/eye contact is gonna make your knees BUCKLE 😮‍💨 whew! my goodness, you’ll be squeezing your thighs together lol. this person is very forward and blunt, it might catch you off guard cause you wouldn't think that when you first see them. i feel like they’re very calm and collected on the outside but inside of them is a flame waiting to be sparked…and you’re the match. they'll approach you in a calculated and meticulous way i’m hearing, they have it all planned out. they might even make a cute gesture/treat you to something that will make you go “awww” internally. i feel like your body will be very responsive to them…like when you see them you might freeze and panic lol they'll think it’s cute. conversing with them is going to be so easy, you'll be able to tell that they're soaking up every word that you're saying. this is hottttt pile 2. when they first lay their eyes on you, they’ll just know they have to have you. you make their heart nearly skip a beat. some of you may look young for your age/have a baby face cause when you’re talking to them, they’ll be thinking about how cute you are. even the way you speak makes them go crazy 😩 just know that your first interaction with them will be living in their mind rent-free lol.
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pile 3 ↓
“you make the confusion go all away from this cold and messed up world. i am in love with you, you set me free! i can't do this thing called life without you here with me.”
pile 3 i gotta start by saying you and your person are absolutely adorkable. lmaooo that was so corny but i feel like you two will be very silly with each other from day 1. you both share some similar interests — possibly watch the same shows/like the same music…something of that nature and that’s how your person is going to shoot their shot. shot clock by ella mai just came to mind, “twenty-four seconds, yeah, you better not stop. you got twenty-four seconds, can you beat the shot clock?” lmfao they might feel like the pressure is on with you. you won’t necessarily be pressuring them, but they’ll feel like if they don’t make their move now someone else might swoop in and grab your attention. they don’t wanna waste your time or time in general, and trust me when i say that they’re gonna put a lot of effort into getting your attention and keeping you entertained. you and/or your person may have some gemini placements. you'll think that they're very cute and sweet <3 they have little quirks about them that you'll pick up on and think to yourself “awww i love them 🥹” very much peter parker vibes like yes peter might be a bit clumsy, awkward and quirky but he's an absolute sweetheart (and heartthrob) so you'll really love spending time with this person pile 3.
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merakiui · 11 months ago
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it’s my first time ordering for lunar love hotel 🥺🥺🥺 i’m not sure if i’m doing it right but i’d like to order a flower bouquet with chamomile tea and lemon squares from the midnight menu and a fruit smoothie from the morning menu for ceo azul and afab reader (maybe either his secretary or just an employee working under him, whichever you prefer!)
thank u so much! 🥰
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, obsession, power imbalance, abuse of authority, mention of pregnancy, implied alcohol use/inebriation, ceo!azul, secretary!reader note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]
You wake to a dull pressure between your legs, roused from dead, dreamless slumber like a reanimated corpse. Groggily, you blink bleariness away and search through the dimming light for the body propped up above you. Your fingers, clumsy and numb, brush against his chest, climbing up to drag across his collarbone and, ultimately, reaching his face. He’s without his glasses; twin pools of the deepest sapphire flick over your form, assessing the state of your sentience.
“Mmh… Mr. A-Ashengrotto?” you mumble, still so out of it. His hips stutter to a halt. Your eyes shut once more, and this time he takes care to move slower. Softer. You arch up into his touch, breathing heavy. “Ooh…”
What happened? How did you get here? If your spotty memory is to be trusted, you arrived late to the company party, got into a drinking competition with Floyd Leech, and stumbled out into the chilly night, hanging onto the arm of the one and only CEO of Mostro. Your benevolent boss—Azul Ashengrotto.
And now here you are, lying beneath him on a plush bed, your legs wrapped limply around his waist while he rocks into you with a gentleness rivaling that of the smoothest sea. Just beyond the rain-spattered windows, a gloomy cityscape sprawls. You’re not sure where you are or what floor you’re on. Exhausted, your mind a muddled wreck, you force your eyes open.
“Mr. Ashengrotto, what are you…” You swallow dryly. Hangover sticks to you like wet socks on soles. “What’re you doing?”
The hand that had been previously rubbing circles into your hip slides away to grasp at your breast. He rolls your perky nipple between two fingers, marveling at the way it sinks in when he presses down. It springs back with ease, still just as pebbled as before.
“You should know—” he starts, only to break off with a low moan— “that it’s impossible to out-drink Floyd.”
“No… No, that’s not—” You suck in a shaky breath through your teeth. His cock curves up inside you, hitting all the right places. “Can’t… We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not?”
“Not right and—it’s wrong… You’re my boss and it’s not…gonna look good.”
“My dear, is that all you ever think of? Even now, your mind is on work. Won’t you relax?”
“Because…” You squirm beneath him, deeply unsettled and yet unable to phrase your protests in sharper terms. “Mr. Ashengrotto—”
“Azul,” he murmurs, running his knuckles over your cheek. Sickeningly fond, he has the gall to smile at you like an angel. “It would make me happy if you called me that in private.”
You try to shake your head. “I can’t—”
“We offer paid maternity leave,” he reminds you, punctuating that point with a sharp, sudden thrust. Your legs tighten around him out of some bodily instinct.
“Don’t want that,” you babble, grabbing at his shoulders. “Don’t want a baby. I can’t—need money to live. It’s expensive… Please, Mr. Ashengrotto…”
He tuts, a frown flickering on his handsome face. “You look so tired. Rest, my dear. I’m here for you.”
Azul lifts you from the bed, angling his hips down to ensure his seed will find its rightful home in snug, gummy depths. He’s borderlining the edge of the end, teetering on a pleasurable precipice. You feel yourself falling. In spite of everything—the situation and the intention in every thrust—it feels good. Mindless. Intrinsic. Strangely meant to be.
“You work so hard on my behalf. Such a diligent secretary, always knowing just what I want when I need it.” Azul takes your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You shiver at the contact—whether in revulsion or reverence, he can’t say. “Ah, but your eating habits are abysmal. You work late and arrive early. You come into the office on the verge of death, and then you lie to my face when I ask if all is well.” He peers down at you, eyes shimmering with an odd emotion. “Why do you run from me, my dear?”
“A-Azu—ooh… Azul…”
“Was that so difficult? My name isn’t a mouthful. If you say it enough, it may stick permanently. Mrs. (Name) Ashengrotto—what a precious title. So musical.”
You follow his hand as it moves to press down against your stomach. You can’t be with him. He’s your boss and you’re his secretary. It wouldn’t look right. The rumors that would spread… You couldn’t handle that sort of pressure—of having all eyes glued to your figure whenever you walk into a room.
“I wanna go home…”
“You are home.”
“My home.”
His expression sours. “I wouldn’t call that hovel a home.”
Your head falls back against the pillows. What’s the point in debating? Sleep claws at you, dragging you back with greedy fingers. Bile rises in your throat, so you swallow it down. You have to say something. You can’t let him have his way. You can’t be a mother. Not now. You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.
But it’s so easy to float along and succumb. It’s so easy to be lazy. It’s so easy to agree. It’s what your boss wants. As his dutiful secretary, you must listen and do just as he asks.
“Get some sleep. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake.”
You don’t intend to, but your eyes fall shut. His voice is soothing like the sweetest song. With your consciousness now waning, you slip away just as he bottoms out and releases with a groan. Your insides are flooded with cum, but that’s the last thing you concern yourself with. It’s what he says next that follows you into your dreams. An ominous omen. A confession.
“I love you, (Name)… And soon—quite soon—you’ll love me, too.”
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lucysarah-c · 7 months ago
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going back to an ask youve answered, what do you think levi would do if he fell in love?
would he persue said person or not? what else?
Hi, sweetie! How are you?
That’s a good question. I think Levi's reaction depends a lot on her role. Is she part of the Scouts, or is she a civilian?
Regardless, I believe Levi’s first reaction would be denial—but not in the sense of "I'm not in love." Levi is straightforward with his thoughts and feelings, so he knows he’s in love with this girl. The denial comes in the form of refusing to acknowledge that he’s even thinking about it, even though he does it constantly.
For example, Levi might tell himself, "I don’t have time to invest in a romantic relationship right now." Yet, if she’s a Scout, he’ll always find time to check if she needs anything, perhaps offer to have tea or help with paperwork. He might think, "I can't take on another responsibility," but still, if her bakery is in a part of town known to be unsafe, he’ll often check on her as she closes up, offering to walk her home if she allows it.
When confronted, Levi would brush it off with, "Tch, it's my job as a soldier," even though he doesn’t escort anyone else home.
He’ll insist on getting supplies from her bakery, claiming she’s "the only one who doesn’t make crappy bread," despite never having complained about the previous shop.
If she’s a nurse in the military medical service, Levi might use the excuse that cadets are misbehaving just to check on her at the infirmary.
Although Levi claims he has no time for a relationship, he constantly carves out moments from his responsibilities to ensure she’s safe and well.
Levi’s approach to showing affection is very subtle. She might need to make the first bold move to let him know she’s interested and doesn’t think he’s being creepy.
The boldest move Levi might make would be to bring her a flower from outside the walls, something rare and unique. He could press the flower in a notebook and then give it to her as a dried keepsake. This gesture would be the result of months of self-debate. Levi’s idea of courting is straightforward and a bit rustic, much like his fashion sense—not the smoothest, but it gets the job done.
Levi might ponder, "What do women like? Sweet stuff, cute stuff, things that smell nice." So, flowers seem perfect—they’re cute, smell good, and are sweet in their own way. Maybe chocolates, too.
He would hand over the dried flower stiffly, saying, "Here, this is for you." She might be surprised and invite him in for tea and biscuits. During their conversation, she might mention other things she enjoys, like a specific dessert, flower, or color. Since Levi isn’t the talkative type, she would likely do most of the talking. Levi would take note of everything she mentions to ensure he gets the right thing in the future. He might also offer to help her around the house if she needs anything.
Perhaps, one day, she visits Levi at the Scout headquarters after a mission, grateful that he’s safe. They get so lost in conversation that they don’t realize how late it’s gotten. Levi might then suggest it’s too late for her to go back alone, and just maybe, she decides to spend the night there.
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