#but the christmas fic is kicking my ass | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsfancyferrari · 1 month ago

Text

Teach Me

Summary: MV1 + “I never had any special tradition for the holidays while growing up,"

Song: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas by Michael Bublé

Author’s note: Sorry it took so long to release a Christmas fics. Exam mocks are really kicking my ass right now! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

Christmas had always been a grand affair in your family, an extravaganza of twinkling lights, laughter, and the warm, cinnamon embrace of freshly baked cookies.

From the moment you could remember, your mother would orchestrate a symphony of holiday cheer—everyone involved, from the youngest child to the oldest grandparent, had a part to play.

The joyous chaos of your family’s Christmas Eve traditions was something you cherished, an unshakable foundation of love that enveloped you every year.

But as you sat on the couch, a steaming cup of peppermint hot chocolate cradled in your hands, you watched Max, your best friend, from across the room, use his computer to read his email.

He was staying over at yours for the week since he thought it would be better to stay with someone over the holidays than stay by himself with his cats in Monaco.

His brow was furrowed, tongue poking out slightly as he concentrated; a sight that made you smile. But then he said something that spun your world off its axis.

“I don’t really do much for Christmas,” he remarked, his voice disconnected, as if he were commenting on the weather rather than divulging a piece of his soul.

You looked up, your heart tightening in disbelief. “What do you mean, you don’t do much?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, the surprise and concern mixing into a jumble of emotions that suddenly felt too big for your small living room. “Like… at all?”

Max shrugged, a hint of embarrassment tracing the lines of his face. “I don’t know. My family doesn’t celebrate like that. We might exchange a few gifts, but it’s not a big deal, you know? Just a regular day for us.”

A regular day. The words clanged against your heart like a fallen ornament, shattering the idyllic image you had created of sharing the holidays together.

How could someone not revel in the joy of Christmas?

The traditions, the twinkle of lights, the warmth of family—these were the things that made the season magical.

“Oh,” you whispered, suddenly feeling a chasm form between you. You took a sip of your hot chocolate, not sure how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain.

Your childhood memories flooded your mind—caroling with your neighbors, the ritual of finding the perfect Christmas tree, and the way your father would always bungle his lines while reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.

Max must have felt the shift in the air; he looked up, catching the troubled expression on your face. “Is it weird that I don’t celebrate?” He gave you a small, tentative smile, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction.

Your heart thudded, and the truth hung dangerously on the tip of your tongue. Could you accept this about him? “Um, no… it’s just… It’s really important to me.”

You weren’t sure how to articulate the depth of your feelings, the nostalgia that struck you like a cold wind at the thought of a muted Christmas devoid of celebration.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“No, Max, I’m sorry,” you interjected. “It’s not your fault. I guess I just expected… well, more.”

Turning away to hide your emotions, you felt a tightening in your chest. You wondered if it was possible to bridge the gap between two worlds so different.

To you, Christmas was warm hugs and laughter, while to him, it was merely an ordinary day.

As you both continued to watch the show on the TV in silence, a plan began to form in your mind.

What if you could share your Christmas with him? What if you could envelop him in the warmth of your family’s traditions, guide him through the whirlwind of what the holiday truly meant to you?

That night, you stayed up late, tossing and turning, rehearsing the idea in your mind like an actor preparing for a role.

The next day, you broached the topic over breakfast.

“Max,” you started, tentative but hopeful, “what if you joined my family this Christmas? We have so many traditions, and it would be amazing to share them with you.”

You watched closely as he took a bite of his toast, the surprise etched on his face like the designs on your family’s old holiday plates.

“Are you sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “I don’t want to crash your family’s holiday. It sounds like it means a lot to you.”

“It does,” you replied, leaning forward, excitement building. “But I want to share it with you. I want you to experience Christmas through my eyes.”

After a moment, his expression softened, and a smile appeared. “Okay, if you really want me there, I’d love to join,” he said, his initial hesitancy fading away beneath the glow of your enthusiasm.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a rosy glow across the sky, your phone buzzed with a call from your parents. You picked it up, expecting a routine check-in, but it was a little different this time.

“Hey, honey!” your mom chirped on the other end. “We were hoping you could come over and help us decorate the Christmas tree.”

“Sure! But is everything okay?” you asked, noting a tinge of urgency in her voice.

“It’s your dad,” she said, lowering her voice. “His back has been acting up again, and he insists he can’t be on his feet too long. I’d hate to do it all by myself.”

You chuckled, picturing your dad stubbornly trying to avoid any heavy lifting, even if it meant sitting on the couch, grumbling about the decorations.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Do you mind if I bring Max along? He’s been staying with me for the holidays, and quite frankly, he’s getting a bit bored.”

“Of course! The more, the merrier! I’m sure he’ll love it!” she replied, her voice brightening. “See you in a bit!”

The pungent aroma of gingerbread wafted through the air as you stirred a pot of simmering cocoa on the stove. Christmas music played softly in the background, intermingling with the sounds of Max fumbling around in the kitchen.

“Max! Do you want to go help decorate my parents’ tree?” you called out, trying to be heard over the clinking of dishes and the low hum of the music.

He appeared at the kitchen doorway, a puzzled expression on his face. “Are you sure I won’t ruin it for you? I hardly know anything about Christmas,” he replied, wringing his hands, suddenly self-conscious.

“Max, relax! It’s about having fun, not just making it look perfect,” you assured him, a grin spreading across your face. “Besides, my dad’s back is acting up, and they could use an extra pair of hands. It’ll be good for us both to get out of the house and do something festive.”

He seemed to mull it over, a slight furrow forming on his brow. “Alright then, let’s go,” he said with a sigh, walking back to finish putting the remaining cookies on sheets for baking.

Once you two arrived at your parents' cozy two-story house, the inviting glow of warm lights twinkled through the windows, making it feel even more like a holiday wonderland.

The scent of pine filled the air as you stepped inside. Your mom greeted you with a wide smile and a warm embrace.

“Thank you for coming, you two! I’m so glad you could help,” she said before turning to her husband, who was gingerly stretching his back on the sofa.

You pulled back slightly to face her, noticing her festive sweater with reindeer prancing across the front. “Of course! We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face.

As you glanced toward your dad, you caught him gingerly stretching his back on the sofa. He grunted softly, rubbing at a spot just above his hips. “I’m fine! Just did a little too much holiday decorating, that’s all,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Hello, Y/N's mom and dad," Max said shyly, standing a bit awkwardly with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He had only seen your parents twice before, and each time was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves for him.

“Max! It’s so wonderful to see you again,” your mom chirped, immediately stepping over to him, arms open. He hesitated for just a moment, but then accepted her hug, easing slightly as she welcomed him with warmth.

“What happened, Dad? Did you lift something heavy?” you asked as Max and you set your jackets down on the coat rack.

“Just a little heavy lifting here and there,” your dad said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know, moving boxes up to the attic and making sure the Christmas lights are all working. I might have overdone it, though.”

“Remember last year?” you teased. “When you insisted you could get that giant inflatable snowman by yourself?”

“Hey! That snowman was a real battle. But look how magnificent he was once I got him set up!” he countered, puffing his chest out with pride.

You chuckled, knowing that the holiday spirit always brought out the competitive side of your father. “This year, let’s take it easy.” you suggested.

“Me and Max will put on the rest of the tree decorations, so you two go and rest,” you playfully ordered, a grin spreading across your face.

You gestured towards the mound of glittering ornaments and fairy lights that lay waiting to be hung, an assortment of memories collected over the years.

Your mom chuckled softly as she helped your dad, who was trying to rise from the couch. “Thanks, you two,” she said, glancing back at the tree adorned with half-placed baubles.

She spared a loving look at your dad, her eyes shimmering with tenderness, before leading him to their bedroom. “We’ll just take a quick nap, and then we’ll join you for hot cocoa.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” you called after her, the aroma of chocolate baking wafting through your kitchen.

Just as the door clicked shut behind you, Max stepped into view, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his green hoodie.

“Alright, Max,” you said, taking a step back to admire the bare pine tree. “What do you think? Are you ready to decorate?”

Max looked up at the tree, its branches heavy with potential. “It’s, um, a lot taller than I expected,” he said, scratching his head. His light brown hair flopped over his forehead as he shifted on his feet. “How do you even start?”

You chuckled, feeling a sense of amusement and excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Well, for me, it starts with the lights. You can’t have a Christmas tree without lights!”

“Lights? Like, the kind that twinkle?” His wide-eyed expression radiated a mixture of intrigue and skepticism.

“Exactly! And they’re the best part.” You walked over to the box where the twinkling fairy lights lay coiled. “Here, hold this end,” you said, handing him one end of the string of lights. “Watch closely, and you might just learn a thing or two.”

Together, you two draped the lights around the branches, winding them carefully to imitate a gentle cascade. Despite his initial uncertainty, Max followed your lead, and you were surprised at how quickly he picked up the rhythm.

As you worked, you thought about how different this was for him. “So, Max, what do you usually do at this time of year?”

He paused, biting his lip as if recalling a distant memory. “Um, not much, really. My family just… doesn’t celebrate anything during the winter. My parents went away on a business trip last Christmas, and it was just me and my video games.”

You frowned. “That sounds kind of lonely.”

“Yeah, it was,” he admitted with a small shrug. “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to do something festive, though. Like… this.”

He gestured at the lights you were hanging, and a little smile broke through. “It’s different. Good different.”

“Good!” you smiled back, feeling your heart warm. “I love that you’re getting to experience it with me.”

You finished hanging the lights, and you stepped back to admire your work. “Alright, next we get to hang the ornaments! These are my favorite part.”

You pulled out the box filled with ornaments, some homemade, some collected over the years. Each ornament held its own story.

“Whoa, look at this one,” Max said, holding up a glass snowman that sparkled as he tilted it in the light. “What’s the story behind it?”

With a nostalgic sigh, you took a seat on the floor surrounded by ornaments. “Oh, that one! My grandmother made it when I was little. She used to tell me that if we hang it on the tree, it would keep us safe from snowstorms.”

Max looked at you, his brows furrowed. “Safe from snowstorms? Does it… work?”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of memory wash over you. “To be honest, I’m not sure, but it makes me feel good to have it there. It reminds me of her, and Christmas is about holding onto those memories, right?”

Max nodded thoughtfully, placing the ornament on a branch. “I think I understand. It’s more than just decorations; it’s about the people and the moments.”

“Yes! You’re getting it!” you cheered, feeling the joy of sharing this tradition take root in your hearts. As you continued to hang the ornaments, you noticed how Max’s fingers brushed over each one, examining them as if they were precious relics.

“What’s this one?” he asked, lifting a shiny red ball with a silver ribbon tied around it.

“That’s one I made in art class when I was in fifth grade. I was so proud of it! Can you imagine?” you grinned, remembering the day you came home with it in hand.

“It looks nice,” Max said, his admiration genuine. “You were pretty crafty back then,”

“Still am!” you shot back, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “Just wait until you see the tree when it’s all done.”

As you continued to hang each ornament, you began to chat more about your families, your interests, and the things you two loved. With each conversation, the air filled with laughter and anticipation.

“Are we really putting up the angel this year?” he asked, glancing over at you with a teasing smirk.

“Of course! It’s tradition,” you insisted, a firm look on your face. After all, it was important to maintain the little things that connected your world, your friendship. “You know we can’t let it down.”

Max chuckled, and the sound was like a breath of fresh air. “All right then, but I’m the one who usually puts it on top. It’s kind of my thing.”

You shook your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Not this year. I’m doing it. You can help me, but I’m the one putting it on top.”

“Okay, Miss Determination,” he replied, his tone mildly sarcastic, but he stepped aside as you grabbed a wooden stool from the corner of the room.

Your heart raced slightly—not just from the excitement but from a deeper, indescribable atmosphere crackling between you two.

You steadied the stool, glancing back at Max, who was still watching, arms crossed, his expression playful yet somehow, deeply attentive. His gaze held a weight that made your stomach flip, and you could swear there was a beat where the air thickened around you.

You climbed onto the stool, your heart thrumming in your chest like a tiny drum, as you reached for the starry-eyed angel that gleamed at the top of the Christmas tree.

It felt higher than you remembered, and a sense of confidence mingled with a rush of fear surged within you—like standing on the edge of an uncertain cliff.

“Easy there!” Max cautioned, his voice a mixture of concern and amusement. “Maybe I should be doing this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the tiny thrill that his closeness brought—only a foot separating you now, his breath mingling in the air as he leaned closer.

“Don’t you dare come over here. I’ve got this,” you insisted, waving him off with a playful faux annoyance.

But before you could even register what happened next, the stool wobbled. Your heart jumped as you lost your balance, and instinct kicked in.

You flailed, arms going wide, but before you could topple down completely, a strong hand shot out, grabbing you and pulling you back against him.

“Whoa! I got you!” Max said, surprise mingled with exhilaration in his voice.

You found yourself hanging in the air for a moment, all thoughts of the angel forgotten as Max held you firmly, your feet dangling inches above the ground.

Your heart raced not just from the fall but from the electric intimacy of the moment, your bodies pressed together, the warmth of his body wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Maybe I should have done this part,” he murmured, his face inches from yours.

His gaze held yours, a mixture of playfulness and something deeper, something you both had danced around for so long, unspoken and heavy in the air.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed, a slight embarrassment creeping into you. “Just let me get back up. I can do it.”

Yet, as his arms remained around your waist, you felt an intense flutter in your chest, the world around you fading into a gentle hush.

Everything seemed to slow—a heartbeat, a moment of depth, the shared breath between friends that felt like it could be something more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, brows knitting slightly as he studied your expression, his grip firm yet gentle.

“Just a little higher,” you whispered, and he complied, lifting you just a bit higher up, careful and steady. For a moment, you felt balanced, your body suspended, held securely by him.

With a slight adjustment, you reached for the angel perched above, heart racing.

When you finally grasped the angel in your hands, you could hardly contain your joy. “I got it! Look!” you exclaimed, beaming down at him.

Your smile matched the twinkling lights strung across the room, the room alive with holiday spirit.

“You did it!” He grinned, his eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you. “But let’s see if you can put it on the tree without falling again.”

You took a breath, carefully repositioning to reach the top of the tree without losing your balance, and to your surprise, you did it. You placed the angel right on top, the final touch to an enchanting creation.

As you settled back on the stool, Max’s hands lingered a moment longer on your waist, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that stirred something deep inside you.

“You really are something else,” he said softly, admiration flooding his tone.

You met his gaze, a million words left unspoken, a shared understanding hanging in the air between you. In that moment, amidst the tree, the decorations, and the warmth of the season, you both realized that everything could change—if only you'd take the step to speak what lingered in the silent spaces.

“Max, I—”

His breath hitched, anticipation crackling like the electricity between you.

“You really are something else,” he said softly, admiration flooding his tone.

You met his gaze, a million words left unspoken, a shared understanding hanging in the air between you.

In that moment, amidst the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, the festive decorations draped lazily across the walls, and the warmth of the season, you both realized that everything could change—if only you’d take the step to speak what lingered in the silent spaces.

“Okay guys, are you almost done? We need to get this Christmas party started!” your mom’s voice rang into the room, cutting through the moment like a loud alarm.

You both jumped, the spell shattered in an instant.

“Yeah, um, right!” you stammered, pulling back slightly from his touch and forcing a smile.

The twinkling lights that had felt so inviting moments earlier now seemed to cast shadows, distorting the possibilities just spoken.

Max raked a hand through his tousled hair, irritation flickering in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he murmured, but it felt anything but fine.

The silence between you swelled with tension, unspoken words echoing in the air.

“Do you think we have enough decorations up? Or should we add more garlands?” you asked, attempting to redirect your racing thoughts.

It was a weak attempt, a desperate grasp for normalcy. But you could feel the distance widening, the moment fading like the last glow of an ember.

Max turned to help you adjust another string of lights, his fingers brushing yours as you worked side by side. “I think it looks great,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual enthusiasm.

His eyes darted around the room instead of settling on you.

“Thanks,” you replied softly, your heart heavy with the words that had been interrupted.

“What’s taking so long?” Your mom poked her head through the doorway, hands on her hips. “You two better hurry up or your father is going to eat all the cookies. And trust me, you know how fast he eats when his back hurts.”

You both chuckled uncomfortably. “We’re almost done!” you called out, exchanging a glance laden with mixed emotions.

As you both trudged into the kitchen, the comforting yet chaotic scent of melted chocolate, vanilla, and a hint of cinnamon greeted you.

Your father sat at the counter, a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. Crumbs dusted his sweater, remnants of his early encounter with the treats.

“Save some for us, Dad!” you exclaimed, snatching a cookie just out of reach.

You made a mock of your father’s crunching sound like a movie monster, mimicking the terrifying yet silly creatures from the last film you hadn’t quite finished watching.

“‘Save some’ was my plan until your mother left,” he chuckled, taking another bite. Somehow, amidst the crumbs and laughter, he looked both amused and guilty. “Didn’t realize how fast they’d vanish. These cookies? They’re a blessing.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe you,” you teased, trying to lighten the previously heavy mood, but the weight clung to the air like an unwanted guest. You grabbed a cookie as well, feeling the soft warmth radiating from it.

“Are they good?” Max asked, eyeing the colorful array of cookies, his curiosity mingled with hunger. He reached for one, nosily nibbling on the edge of the plate.

“Epic,” your dad said with a nod, his mouth full. “Even if I say so myself.” He looked down, catching crumbs on his lap.

“Good enough to distract you from your back pain?” you pressed gently, trying to lighten the mood, even if just a little.

Your dad’s laughter faltered for a moment, replaced by a visible glimmer of sorrow, a fleeting reminder of years that brought more than just joyful memories.

“Ah, well, that along with every other distraction I can find,” he replied, his voice tinged with a sadness you could hear but not see, as if every word was a careful piece painted in gray shades.

Just as the silence began to stretch uncomfortably, your mother entered the kitchen, a warm smile brightening her face, although tired lines around her eyes told a different story.

“Everyone’s been out of sorts today. Should we all sit down together?” she suggested, motioning gently toward the living room.

“Sounds good,” you said, stepping back from the cookie plate. “Just let me snag a few more first.” You plucked three more cookies and stuffed them into your pockets, ensuring you were ready for later consumption.

Max smirked at your cookie-stashing antics. “You really think you will need that many for a five-minute stroll to the living room?”

“Hey,” you replied, holding a cookie aloft like a trophy, “you never know when the cookie monster strikes!”

Your dad chuckled again, and the tension broke slightly. “Well, if it gets too frightening, I suppose I can lend you my sweater for protection.” He gestured grandly to the crumbs adorning it.

“However, I warn you, the last person who tried to wear it claimed to have lost a battle with sugar and chocolate.”

You giggled, imagining someone in an epic showdown against a plate of cookies while wearing that sweater. “I’ll take my chances!” you said, confidently slinging a couple of cookies into your pockets before you finally sashayed toward the living room.

As you entered, the glittering Christmas tree sparkled in the dim light, each ornament reflecting both the colorful bulbs and the excitement that filled the air.

The sounds of bells jingled softly, punctuated by the occasional laughter from your mom as she rearranged a hodgepodge of decorations.

You plopped down on the couch, managing to get crumbs on the cushion as you settled in. Max followed, a teasing look still plastered on his face.

“So, what’s the plan now? A cookie feasting or a Christmas carol performance?”

“Why not both?” Max suggested, taking a bite of one of the prized cookies. The sweet explosion of chocolate instantly heightened your holiday spirit. “We could start a new Christmas tradition!”

“Yeah! Cookie caroling!” you exclaimed.

Just then, your mom turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “So, we were thinking maybe you wanted to stay over for Christmas?”

She moved a few ornaments on the tree, her hands deftly arranging them with the care of someone who wanted everything just perfect.

You glanced at Max, who had already raised his eyebrows in surprise. Staying over for Christmas would mean a whole day of festivities, treats, and memories.

But it also meant leaving Max behind if he couldn’t join. A pang of longing shot through you at the thought of him being alone.

“Can Max stay too?” you surprised yourself by asking, your voice light but earnest.

“Of course he can!” your dad chimed in, giving Max a reassuring smile. “We always have room for friends, especially at Christmas.”

Max’s face lit up, a mix of relief and joy spreading across his features. “Really? Thank you for letting me stay,” He leaned back into the couch with a grin, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

Your mom smiled warmly, returning to straighten the tree decorations. “I’ll make sure to set up a cozy spot for you, Max. We’ll even have a hot chocolate station!”

“Whoa, a hot chocolate station?” Max echoed, his eyes widening. “My festive drink dreams are coming true!”

Laughing, you leaned towards him. “Just prepare for my intense marshmallow-to-chocolate ratio. I'm known for going overboard.”

Max chuckled. “I’ll risk it for a cup with you!”

“I just might put extra whipped cream on yours,” you teased.

“Bring it on,” he shot back confidently, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes that made you look forward to a friendly competition. . . .

You were nestled in the guest room at your parents' house, a cozy haven with a view of the holiday lights twinkling just outside the window.

Christmas Eve had always been a special time filled with warmth and nostalgia, but this year, all you could focus on was Max, who was sprawled out on the couch in the living room.

You had invited him over for the festivities, and while it felt good to have him around, a worry gnawed at you—was he cold out there?

As you snuggled beneath the blankets, the fluorescent glow of string lights outside painted the walls in a soft, warm hue.

‘He’ll be fine,’ you reassured yourself. ‘It’s just one night.’ Yet the thought of him alone, wrapped in a blanket that could barely keep him comfortable, stirred restlessness within you.

You wanted to go out and offer him a cozy spot next to you, but you didn’t want to disturb him, especially if he managed to finally drift off.

After an hour of tossing and turning amidst visions of reindeer and jingling bells, you heard a soft knock at the door.

Your heart raced, mingling excitement with a touch of anxiety. Slowly, you swung the door open and there he was, Max, standing there with his fluffy pillow tucked under one arm.

The sight of him was undeniably endearing, and you fought the urge to smile like a fool.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even. You stepped aside to let him in, noticing how the warm glow of the room contrasted with the chilly air he had brought in with him.

“I… just couldn’t fall asleep,” he admitted, looking down at his feet. “I didn’t know if you’d be awake, so I thought I’d check.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely still awake,” you said, the playful tilt of your lips escaping before you could stop it. “I was trying to catch Santa.”

“Really?” Max’s eyes widened, filled with mock disbelief. “You think Santa’s actually going to show up here?”

“Well, it’s Christmas Eve! Why wouldn’t he?” You plopped down on the edge of your bed, inviting him to sit. “Just because we’re older doesn’t mean we can’t believe. It’s part of the fun!”

Max chuckled, settling onto the floor cross-legged, his pillow still clutched to his chest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But still, how do you plan to catch him? With a camera or something?”

“Maybe,” you said, half-seriously. “I might have some tricks up my sleeve. What about you? What did you think—would you prefer to catch Santa or find out if reindeer actually fly?”

He pondered that for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. “Hmmm, that’s a tough choice. I think I’d prefer to see the reindeer fly, actually. I mean, how do they even do it? I’d love to see those little hooves take off!”

“You know, if you stand up and pretend to be one, maybe that’s the secret,” you teased, your heart lifting at the sound of laughter that poured from him. It felt good, this mini-adventure in imagination.

Max shook his head, his smile infectious. “Absolutely not! I’ll leave the magical reindeer business to you, thank you very much.”

“Fair enough,” you said, grinning back at him. The air was lighter now, filled with a playful spirit that made the room feel even cozier. “But I’ve got to ask—are you cold out there on the couch?”

Max’s smile faltered for just a moment. “A little. I wasn’t thinking about that when I decided to crash on the couch, I swear! Just didn’t want to kick you out of your own room.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you can just come here next time if you want,” you offered, feeling a warmth spreading inside you. “There’s plenty of room.”

He glanced at your bed, then back to you. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

Taking in his slightly sheepish expression, you sat up straighter. “You’re not! We can keep each other company while we wait for Santa… or at least talk about whatever silly thing pops into our heads.”

Max’s eyes glimmered with delight. “You know what? That sounds perfect.” He picked up his pillow and moved it to your bed, settling down beside you. “Okay, so how do we catch Santa then?”

“First, we need snacks! Santa loves cookies. We can’t let him go hungry,” you declared, leaping up and heading for the kitchen.

When you returned, you carried a plate stacked high with the best cookies your mom had made—snowflakes, gingerbread men, and festive sprinkle biscuits.

“Wow, you’re serious about this,” Max teased, grabbing a cookie. “Okay, then let’s make a plan. If we take shifts—”

“Shifts?” you interrupted with a gasp, the laughter bubbling over. “We’re not soldiers guarding the North Pole, Max!”

He couldn’t hold back his own laughter. “Okay, fine. No shifts. But how about we set up where we can see the tree and the cookies, and then when someone looks away, the other has to keep a lookout?”

“Deal. And when we catch Santa, you have to promise not to scream,” you added, snickering.

“Like I’d do that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to be the lookout then.”

Minutes turned into hours as the night unfolded beneath the glow of your soft fairy lights, laughter blending with stories and silly reindeer poses.

For the first time that night, the ticking down to Christmas felt less like a wait and more like a cherished moment shared.

You positioned yourself comfortably, but couldn’t help sneaking glances at him. One moment, he caught your gaze, and an unusual silence settled between you. The playful banter slipped away and instead, the warmth in his eyes drew you in.

He leaned a little closer, his voice softening. “You okay?”

“I am,” you said, but your heart raced more from the shift in ambiance than the excitement of catching Santa. The air was somehow charged with a tension that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

Max's gaze lingered on you, and for just a heartbeat, you both held still. You couldn’t ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, and you felt a magnetic pull towards him.

For a moment, you thought he might lean in. Then, as if struck by an invisible force, you turned away. “I—sorry, I just…” You stammered, struggling to find your words.

But Max’s eyes, filled with curiosity and a hint of longing, didn’t let you off the hook so easily. “What is it?” he asked gently, his voice low and soothing.

“Nothing!” you rushed out, a laugh escaping that sounded a bit too high-pitched. “I think maybe I just stared at the lights too long.”

“Sure,” he replied, but the playful tone was gone, replaced by something softer, more sincere. “You can tell me, you know. I won’t bite.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart. “It’s just… really nice, being here with you. I mean, it’s Christmas Eve and we’re supposed to be having fun, but… it feels different this time.”

His expression softened even further, as though he understood completely. “Yeah, I feel it too.”

With a small smile, he shifted closer, letting the comfort of the moment wash over you. “Maybe it’s the cookies or the tree. Or maybe it’s because we’re just getting older.”

Under the thick blanket, you shifted again, settling into the warmth he radiated. “Now come closer; you’re taking all of the blanket,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

Max slowly moved to close the gap, his body edging over but hesitating just a tad as if he feared touching you too much would shatter the serene moment.

“I’m scared,” he blurted, glancing sideways, his cheeks tinged a light shade of pink.

“Scared?” you repeated, surprised. “Of what?”

“Of ruining this, I guess,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything feels so perfect, and I don’t want to mess it up by making a wrong move.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Making you uncomfortable,” he said. He drummed his fingers nervously on the blanket. “What if I lean too far, or what if I say something silly and it turns this into one of those moments where you laugh uncomfortably because you’re not sure how to react?”

“I wouldn’t laugh at you,” you replied earnestly, shifting so you could look at him properly. “And even if you said something silly, we’d just laugh it off, right?”

He looked at you with soft brown eyes, gauging the sincerity in your expression. “You promise?”

“Absolutely,” you said, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Why would I want to ruin this either? I like where we are, Max. It feels… right.”

“I just…” he paused, the weight of his thoughts hanging in the air, “I like being around you. You make everything lighter. But I don’t want to push you away.”

You leaned closer, feeling the thud of your heart echo in the space between you. The bottle of uncertainty that had been keeping both of you at bay began to crack. “It’s okay; you’re not pushing me away. I want you here.”

The tilt of your head must have been inviting enough, because he shifted in closer, the gap between you dissolving like morning mist. He was tentative, still afraid of breaking the moment, but the warmth you felt was from more than just the blanket.

“See?” you said softly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not so scary, right?”

“I guess not,” he chuckled, relief flooding his features. “But I just can’t help it; I keep thinking about how everything could change. What if it goes wrong?”

“Max,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, “worrying about what might happen keeps you from enjoying what’s happening now. Isn’t that what people do? They get so lost in what’s next that they forget to appreciate what they have?”

His silence was contemplative as he pulled you a fraction closer, the warmth of him wrapping around you like the blanket. “You’re right. I guess I just really want this to last… us.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. The vulnerability in his tone was striking, and it planted a seed of hope within you. “So, let’s just be in this moment,” you suggested, draping the blanket more tightly around your bodies.

“Here and now. No expectations. Just us.”

He nodded slowly, and for a moment, the sound of snow became the soundtrack of your cocoon. Slowly, his fingers brushed against yours, a gentleness that sent a ripple of warmth through you.

A smile broke across his face, one that sent warmth through you like the first rays of sun after a long, cold night. “Sounds perfect,” he said, his voice deepening in that way you had come to adore.

You settled back against him, draping the soft blanket more tightly around your bodies. The fabric felt like a cloud, cocooning you in a protective bubble.

Outside, the snow continued its gentle descent, each drop creating a soft symphony that seemed to echo the beats of your hearts.

He fell silent for a moment, and you watched as he closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of the snow wash over him. “I wonder how many people wish for this,” he mused, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I think a lot,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his words linger in the air. “But it’s ours. We shouldn’t take it for granted.”

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, as peaceful and inviting as the sound of the snow against the window. You felt yourself beginning to relax, lulled by the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing against your cheek where it rested.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let out a long, slow breath, feeling the world around you begin to fade away.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, sensing your drift towards slumber.

“Always,” you replied, feeling your eyelids grow heavier. In the sanctuary you had created, enveloped in warmth and affection, you allowed the quiet to take over as your thoughts turned hazy.

And with that, you drifted into a peaceful sleep, the comfort of his presence, the shelter of the blanket, and the soft patter of the snow wrapping you both in a cocoon of tranquility.

Here, in this moment, everything was right, and your hearts whispered promises that could span across a lifetime. . . . .

You woke up to the gentle thrum of a heartbeat against your ear, warmth enveloping you fully. The sound brought you back slowly to the present, and you smiled as you remembered where you were.

The faint smell of pine and cinnamon wafted through the air, intermingling with the warmth of the blankets draped over you.

You were home, nestled in bed beside him, accompanied by the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room.

Turning slightly, you found him still beside you, his arms wrapped around you in a secure embrace. His chest rose and fell rhythmically beneath your head, and his breath sounded deep and peaceful.

You cherished this moment like the most precious gift, knowing that today was Christmas Day.

You smiled at the thought and snuggled a little closer, feeling the sleep still clinging to your eyelids. "Merry Christmas," you whispered, not wanting to disturb the beautiful serenity of the morning.

He stirred a little, pulling you even closer. "Mmm, Merry Christmas," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.

He tilted his head to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “What time do you think it is? Do you think your parents are up yet?”

You chuckled softly, nudging him playfully. “Probably not. They’d sleep in on Christmas morning if they could."

Max’s smile widened. “Well let’s not disturb them then and do our own breakfast,” he suggested with a conspiratorial glance. “And maybe make some breakfast for them so they like me more.”

“Max, they love you, you know that,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat slightly.

Calling Max your friend felt wrong, like a poorly matched puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. In your heart, he was so much more, but the boundaries were intricate and tangled, built over years of friendship, laughter, and unspoken affection.

“My parents don’t usually agree to let a friend stay over at Christmas. You’re special.”

He tilted his head, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “Really? That’s sweet of them. But honestly, I want to make a good impression. Christmas breakfast is a big deal, right? In a ‘you have to impress your parents’ kind of way?” He rolled his eyes in mock exaggeration.

You laughed, pushing your hair back from your face. “Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?”

Max hopped up from the edge of your bed, a spark of enthusiasm in his steps. “I can handle the pancakes if you get the eggs and bacon. And maybe we can sneak in some hot chocolate?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, reluctantly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “But we have to be quiet. They’re definitely still asleep.”

“Shh, we have to be silent,” he declared dramatically, mimicking a ninja as he tiptoed toward the kitchen.

You followed him, amusement bubbling up inside you at his antics. Entering the kitchen, you were greeted by the familiar scent of pine from the Christmas tree, twinkling lights reflecting off the walls.

Max opened the fridge with exaggerated care, peering inside as if it were a treasure chest.

“Eggs and whatever this is,” he said, pulling out a carton that looked slightly dubious, but then again, you didn't remember buying much food lately.

You rolled your eyes. “That was from Thanksgiving. Let’s stick to the basics.”

Max pretended to ponder for a moment. “And let’s not poison your parents on Christmas morning.”

With a soft laugh, you got to work, gathering the ingredients for the breakfast spread. The soft sound of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen as you heated the skillet, and Max enthusiastically began mixing pancake batter in a bowl.

After some time, your kitchen transformed into a makeshift restaurant, with pancakes stacked high, bacon sizzling, and eggs brightening the countertop.

You’d managed to quiet the noise, but you couldn’t hold back your laughter at the two of you trying to balance plates on the way to the table.

“Okay, moment of truth,” Max said, placing plates down at two seats, making sure they were perfectly aligned. “How do we make this secretly magical?”

You raised your eyebrows, then added, “Hot chocolate on the side?”

“Genius!” he proclaimed, quickly pouring hot chocolate into two mugs adorned with marshmallows. “You’re not just a pretty face, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at the compliment. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Max,” you replied playfully, unable to hide your smile.

Just as you both sat down to toast the moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. You shot Max a frantic look, and he quickly grabbed a pancake, stuffing it in his mouth as if caught in the act.

“Surprise!” your mother exclaimed, walking into the kitchen, her eyes wide with delight. “What’s all this?”

You exchanged guilty glances, but Max, ever the charmer, grinned with a mouth full of pancake. “Just trying to make Christmas breakfast a real deal. Hope you’re hungry!”

“And great pancakes, if I may add,” you chimed in, feeling your heart race. “And bacon! Can’t forget about baked bacon.”

Your dad appeared beside your mother, his scruffy morning hair adding to his amusement. “Wow, you two really outdid yourselves!” He looked between you and Max, clearly impressed.

Feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, you glanced at Max, who was now smirking, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Well, maybe, by making breakfast, they’ll include me in the family from this point onward,” he said, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You chuckled, nudging him again. “You already are family, you know that right?”

Max locked eyes with you, and for a brief moment, the teasing banter faded into something more sincere. “Yeah, I guess,” he said softly, his smile less about jesting and more about truth.

Your parents settled at the table, and soon enough, the jovial atmosphere filled the room as laughter and shared stories surrounded you.

Even amidst the festive spirits, you and Max shared fleeting glances and quiet smiles, both unsure whether to acknowledge what lingered just beneath the surface.

As bacon sizzled and your parents marveled at the pancakes, you felt a warmth in your heart.

"So, as you know, we're hosting the Christmas party this year," she said, her voice bright and cheery despite the busy atmosphere. "It's going to be crowded before it’s 4 PM."

You looked across the table at Max, who was focused on his plate but seemed to be listening intently. "You don’t mind that, right?" you asked him, your heart racing slightly.

It wasn’t just your parents who would be attending; they had invited family friends, neighbors, and even some of your old schoolmates.

Max looked up, a friendly smile breaking across his face. "No, it’s fine! More the merrier," he replied, taking a big bite of pancake as if to emphasize his nonchalance.

After breakfast, your mother handed you and Max a box of decorations that had been stored away for the season. "Here! You two handle the living room. Make it festive!" she called, already disappearing into the next room.

You and Max exchanged glances, and you both laughed at the same time. "Looks like it’s just us," you said, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Let’s make this place sparkle!" Max exclaimed, grinning as he opened the box to reveal an array of ornaments, garlands, and twinkling fairy lights.

As you began to decorate the room, you found yourself instinctively reaching for a shimmering silver garland. You draped it across the mantelpiece, wishing to give it a touch of elegance.

Meanwhile, Max was busy attempting to untangle a giant string of lights, a comical frown on his face.

"I'm telling you, these lights have a grudge against us," he said, huffing slightly as he pulled on the cords.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Need a hand, or are you determined to battle the lights alone?"

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his eyes. "I can handle this. Just you wait!"

He managed to get one long string untangled and triumphantly held it up. "See? Success!"

"You are the hero of light untangling!" you declared, clapping your hands dramatically.

As the afternoon wore on, you took a break to change into your dress. You’d chosen a deep green one that flowed elegantly around your knees. Standing in front of the mirror, you adjusted the neckline and twirled once to see the fabric swirl around you.

When you stepped out of your room, you spotted Max walking past with a box filled with more decorations. He froze, his gaze sweeping over you as if trying to gauge your outfit.

"Is it too much?" you asked shyly, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his watchful eye.

"No, it’s fine! You look beautiful, I promise," he assured you, his voice steady and sincere. That made your heart flutter a little.

“Thank you,” you said softly, a smile creeping onto your face.

Max cleared his throat, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "I mean it. You always look great."

As the clock approached 4 PM, guests began to arrive. The house filled with laughter and the sounds of holiday greetings. Your parents mingled with guests, ensuring everyone felt at home.

“Wow, look at this place,” Max said, his voice barely audible over the joyous chatter. He stood close beside you, his eyes wide as he took in the familiar surroundings that were brimming with memories.

“Yeah, it’s a little chaotic,” you admitted, your gaze drifting toward the swarm of guests. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Today, especially, you were thankful for Max's presence as anxiety began to creep in with each arrival. He didn’t know anyone else here, and his nervous energy mirrored yours, though he was determined to keep you company.

“Maybe we should find somewhere quieter?” he suggested, but just as you were about to agree, a voice rang out from the doorway.

“Hey, Y/N! Haven’t seen you in forever!” It was Blake—standing with a group of his friends, their smug expressions painted in the crackling light of holiday cheer.

Your heart sank. What was he doing here? Memories of the past flooded back—the bullying, the harsh teasing. You instinctively took a step back, bumping into Max, who looked worried.

“Should I get them out?” he whispered, concern creasing his brow.

“No... it’s okay,” you muttered, though your heart raced. There was a part of you that hoped this time would be different. Maybe Blake had changed.

“Blake!” you said, forcing a smile. “How has it been?”

“Good! Real good! Just finished finals, and I think I aced them all.” He leaned against the doorframe, an uninvited confidence radiating from him. “It’s kind of nice to see you. We should catch up sometime.”

His gaze roamed over you like an echo of the past, pulling at invisible threads that bound you to days long gone.

You could feel Max shift beside you. He subtly positioned his body protectively between you and Blake, his hand casually resting on your waist—something that felt both natural and reassuring.

The gesture worked to ground you, despite the tension that crackled in the air.

“Oh, um, thanks!” you replied, your voice shaky but steadying as you felt Max’s warmth. “I’ve been busy with college. Working a lot too. It’s—really challenging.”

Blake chuckled, his friends joining in the laughter. “You always did know how to balance things,” he said with a wink, his tone flirty. “I bet that’s why everyone is still buzzing about you. You’re always the one who had their life together.”

You forced another smile, but inside you felt uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you replied, trying to redirect the conversation. “What about you? Are you still into basketball?”

“Of course! Can’t get enough of it.” He was enjoying the attention of your classmates who were gathered around—nothing but echoes of their bygone camaraderie. “I could show you some moves later if you want. I mean, I’m pretty good.”

“Maybe I’ll just stick to watching,” you said, with a weak laugh. Your gaze flickered to Max, who still remained a quiet presence at your side, his hand never faltering on your waist.

“Come on, it wouldn’t be the same without you,” Blake persisted, moving closer, his friends egging him on. “We can rekindle old times.”

Just then, Max tightened his grip around you as if to shield you from that unwanted history. “I think Y/N has plans,” he stated clearly. “Right?”

Your heart swelled at his assertion. “Yeah! Plans!” you echoed, grateful for his quick thinking. “We were actually just about to grab some food. Isn’t that right, Max?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, his eyes locking onto yours with an earnestness that sent warmth through you. It was something you’d been craving since that encounter with Blake began to take an unsettling turn.

“Should I join?” Blake smirked, but your laughter came out more forced than you intended.

“No! I mean, we’re kind of... in a rush,” you insisted, pointing toward the dining room where the food was being served. “Right, Max?”

“Right,” he affirmed, his eyes that twinkled with an inner strength. “Let’s go grab some snacks, Y/N.”

With a half-hearted wave to Blake and his friends, you took Max’s hand, the warmth of his palm igniting an unexpected comfort. You navigated through the crowd, the noise fading into a dull roar behind you.

“Thank you,” you exhaled once you stepped into the quieter dining room, where twinkling fairy lights adorned the table and the table was laden with a spread of delicious food.

“I was worried I’d have to drown in that conversation.”

Max chuckled, his relief evident. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

The atmosphere in the dining room was lighter, filled with the cheerful sounds of your family laughing and sharing stories.

Under a garland of fresh greens and bright red ribbons, you felt enveloped by warmth and safety, especially with Max at your side.

“So tell me more traditions that you guys do on Christmas Day,” Max asked curiously, his bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he perched on the edge of the couch.

You could see the warmth of the festive spirit in him, a perfect addition to your family gathering.

You smiled, wiping away a few crumbs from your cookie-laden fingers. “Well, for us, we do Secret Santa where we pick someone’s name and get them something secretly before hiding it under the tree. Oh! And we especially do Christmas karaoke!"

You laughed, pointing at your dad and uncle belting out “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” in exaggerated voices. They were utterly off-key, but it only added to the hilarity.

Max chuckled, the sound making your heart flutter. “I would pay to see that!” he exclaimed.

“Then there’s the mistletoe!” you said, gesturing towards the couple by the entrance who were caught under the hanging sprig of green. “If there are two people under it, they have to kiss.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but before the words could form, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours.

Time stood still. You were caught in that perfect moment until he pulled away, his cheeks turning a shade of pink that nearly matched the holiday décor.

“Uh, what just happened?” you stammered, glancing up only to find a bunch of mistletoe hanging right above you.

Max pointed up with a shy grin. “I figured I’d follow the traditions, you know?”

You couldn’t help the playful smirk that crept onto your lips. “Is that the only reason you kissed me?” You leaned slightly closer, your heart pounding in excitement.

Max's eyes widened as he shook his head. “No, um, not exactly,” he said, his voice a mix of confidence and vulnerability. “I really like you, Y/N.”

A giggle bubbled up from your throat before you could suppress it. “You’re so cute, Max,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

His face turned even redder, and your playful tone hung in the air between you like a promise. “Did I just get friendzoned?” he asked, half-joking but his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

You rolled your eyes with exaggerated dramatic flair. “Nope, I like you too, cutie.” The words flowed out more easily than you had anticipated, but they felt right, resonating with the whirlwind of emotion that had caught you both off guard.

Max's expression shifted, the nervousness giving way to relief and undeniable joy. “Really? You like me?”

“Of course! I mean, we get along so well, and you’re literally the sweetest person I know.”

He smiled wider, the hint of anxiety disappearing from his features, replaced by a twinkling delight. “Wow. Okay, good! So, uh, should we… I don’t know… try that kiss again? Just to really make sure it wasn’t a fluke?”

You laughed, the sound rich and warm like the cocoa in your cup. “Bad idea, Max. What if people see?” But even as you said the words, you felt a spark ignite, compelling you to step closer again.

“Who cares?” he said, his voice bold now. “It’s just mistletoe. And I think it’d be a better story if we kissed again than if we stood here talking about it.” His eyes danced with energy, a hint of mischief.

You couldn’t resist that challenge, not with the way he was looking at you—the spark in his eyes making it impossible to think clearly. “Okay, but if we do,” you said, taking a breath to calm your fluttering heart, “we have to do it right. No awkward pecks.”

“Deal,” he replied, the seriousness of the moment settling between you like a secret shared.

Max grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer, his sudden boldness catching you off guard.

Surprised, a little noise escaped your lips — a mix of laughter and shock — and you could see the amusement dance across his face. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, a blend of excitement and anticipation, as well as the faintest hint of embarrassment. “You’re impossible,” you said, trying to regain your composure, though your heart raced wildly in your chest.

“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” he replied, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “But I’m more than willing to show you.”

“Bring it on,” you challenged, your heart racing with both fear and excitement.

And then, before you could second-guess yourself or back out, you tilted your head back slightly, and your lips met his.

The kiss was an explosion of warmth, as sweet and indulgent as the cocoa you had been sipping. It flickered to life like the crackling fire in the corner, igniting a warmth in your heart that surged straight through to your fingertips.

You melted into him, feeling the world around you fade—the hum of conversation, the clang of glasses, the scent of pine in the air, all of it dimming in the wake of this moment.

Max’s grip on your waist tightened, pulling you even closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steadiness of him against the thrumming chaos of your own pulse. His lips moved against yours with a mix of softness and urgency that sent shivers down your spine.

After what felt like both a blink and a lifetime, you pulled back, breathless. “Wow,” you managed to say, your cheeks flushed as you looked into his eyes, which sparkled with a hint of triumph.

“Wow, indeed,” he echoed, his smile broad and boyish. “You see? Better than just talking about it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You have no shame.”

“And you’re blushing again,” he pointed out, leaning against the back of the sofa, clearly relishing the moment. “What’s wrong with a little mistletoe magic?”

“Seems like a pretty convenient setup,” you teased, trying to regain your composure. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let them!” Max shrugged, his playful energy infectious. “I’m not ashamed of how I feel about you.” His gaze softened, and for a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background.

“Guess it’s too late to act cool now,” you said, glancing around the crowded room, where your parents were happily mingling with friends and relatives.

“Merry Christmas to me, looks like I got my present,” you added, winking at him.

“Think your parents will approve?” Max's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned closer again, just inches from your face.

“They’re going to be thrilled,” you replied, sarcasm lacing your voice. “My mom has been trying to play matchmaker for months. She’s probably already trying to convince my dad to change the seating arrangement for the rest of the night.”

Max chuckled, and suddenly, the surrounding noise blurred into a vague hum as you found yourself lost in his gaze.

“You know,” he said, “I never had any special tradition for the holidays while growing up. But after today, I think I’m ready to spend the rest of my days trying to learn your family’s traditions.”

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Aww man, are you really trying to win my heart?”

“Is it working?” Max asked, his smile widening.

“Maybe,” you teased, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you tried to suppress a grin.

“Good,” he said, leaning a little closer, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something more genuine.

“Because I’ve decided I want to experience all the things that make your family special. Like this—” He gestured to your father, who was attempting to sing a holiday tune, completely off-key.

“Yeah, that’s a real highlight,” you replied, laughing.

“I’m serious,” Max said, the warmth of sincerity filling the space between you. “I want to be a part of it all—the cooking, the awkward games, the stories that are told every year. I want to learn why your mom insists on making seven different types of cookies, or why your uncle insists he can beat anyone at charades.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he affirmed, taking a step closer, so your shoulders brushed against each other. “You’ve made this horrible week of relentless deadlines bearable just by being you. I can only imagine how wonderfully chaotic it must be at these parties. I want to be part of it.”

Surprised, you looked down at your feet, your cheeks burning. The twinkling lights around the room seemed to echo your racing heart.

“Well, you definitely picked the right night to make such a grand declaration. Keep your expectations realistic, though. My family is… a lot.”

“Bring it on,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “I’m ready. Besides, you’re worth it.”

As you sat there in the warmth of your parents’ home, wrapped in laughter, full of acceptance, you realized that this could be the start of something wonderful.

The sparkling lights twinkled with promise, and perhaps, just perhaps, this Christmas would be the first of many with Max by your side. . . . .

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thighguys · 2 months ago

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Phan Fic Recs!!

here's a bunch of my absolute favorites for anyone who needs a distraction from the election <3 i will make a second post with shorter ones as well, this post will just be fics that are over 10k

Inheriting Love by Fictropes (22k)- Dan is a lawyer who executes wills in a small town in the English countryside, and Phil's aunt leaves him a house. One of the cutest fics I've read recently tbh, lots of banter and cows<3

Silver Arrows to the Heart by @evermorepeyton (137k, WIP)- How could i POSSIBLY make a rec list without including this masterpiece??? Dan and Phil are Formula 1 drivers, chaos ensues<3 sooooo much fun (and there are some really beautiful cool women in there too, just as a treat)

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) by kishere (123k)- Dan is an amateur figure skater who scores a spot at the famous Lester training gym, where he meets the legendary Phil Lester and of course they fall in love... this one has sooo many cute fetus moments and wonderful cameos from Kath<3 absolutely love it

Like a Bowl of Oranges by cloej88 (@bitchslapblastoids) (47k)- Phil is a filmmaker looking to amplify queer stories in the media, Dan is a ghostwriter who's been writing a memoir on the side, you can guess what happens next. very VERY fun fic, lots of drama and lovely reflection, as well as the softest scenes between them. love this one (and the author :3)

The Odd Uneven Time by @yikesola (20k)- A 2009 fic from Phil's perspective, falling in love with a boy over the Internet. Absolutely WONDERFUL vibes, so so so cute (and it probably happened in real life ahaha)

Live Incidentally by yikesola (37k)- Phil makes novelty t-shirts and Dan buys them :) really funny, also some great Lester family moments

The Pianist Everyone Is Talking About... Is My Husband by @natigail (25k)- Dan is a famous pianist, Phil plays his songs on the radio, but nobody knows that they're actually married. Lots of chaos ensues, crazy fangirls can feel super represented, and Dan laughs at Phil about it all<3 this fic is so funny lol, highly HIGHLY recommend

Kick Me While I'm Down by jerserker (14k)- Dan and Phil join an adult kickball league! Phil just wants to make friends, and Dan... kicks everyone's asses <3 Really funny competitive Dan, fun times honestly :)

missing the obvious by Fictropes (14k)- Dan plays videogames in an anonymous Discord server at night, and during the day he goes to his boring office job and hooks up with his coworker Phil in bathroom stalls... I wonder how these two things could possibly be connected...

Our House by sierradeux (50k)- Dan is a real estate agent, Phil is a Youtube house flipper, they team up to cohost an HGTV renovation special and fall in love. With the house, obviously. But also with each other <3 this is one of my favorites guys I think it should be required reading for everyone on phannie tumblr

maybe this christmas by blackbirddan (13k)- it's November, im allowed to rec christmas fics now, right??? anyway, this one is HUGE for fans of the Lester and Howell families, just so so so soft and sweet and awesome<3

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY by natigail (176k)- i mean this one has a pretty self explanatory title... read for super hot dancer Phil, awkward celebrity Dan, and so so so many beautiful outfit and dance descriptions :3 seriously, I wish I could watch this season irl :( this is for sure in my top 3 fics of all time to be so honest

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? by natigail (15k)- Cornelia pov on meeting the boy Phil brought home, and then throughout the years. SO CUTE!!!!! really big for fans of outsider pov (me)

okie dokie<3 i will be making an under 10k rec list as well, so be on the lookout for that one!

#shoutout specially to natigail and Fictropes you guys have been saving my ao3 bookmarks almost singlehandedly forever #dan and phil #phan #dnp #phandom #dip and pip #phil lester #dan howell #dnpg #dapg #dan and phil games #fic rec #phan fiction #phan fic #phan au #daniel howell #phanfiction

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 30 days ago

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I Gave You My Heart❤️💔

One Shot (Complete) ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x f!Reader x Lucien de Leon

🎄Summary: You and Dieter attend his parents annual Christmas party where you unexpectedly run into your ex, Lucien de Leon. As events (and drama) unfold, you're soon wondering if you are making the right choice about your future.

🎁Word Count: 9.1 K

🚨Warnings: Angst, smut shenanigans, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of past drug abuse, shitty relationships, family drama, mentions of unplanned pregnancy. Dieter & Lucien come with their own warnings.

Shout out to my love, @morallyinept, for her wonderful character dialog database. It was nice to have that as a reference for this fic. 💜

I glanced at my watch. We were supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes, but Dieter hadn’t made it home yet due to being stuck in LA traffic. From the string of expletives included in his text messages with his ETA updates, I could tell he was beyond frustrated that filming had gone over schedule.

He burst through the door of our Sherman Oaks home in a flurry, kicking his shoes off and undressing as he made his way upstairs toward the bathroom to shower. He was still covered in grime and fake blood from whatever gruesome scene he had been filming that morning.

I followed behind him, picking up his clothes and biting back laughter as I watched his bare ass quickly disappear down the hallway into our bedroom. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but he typically didn’t move at a speed that would cause his ass cheeks to bounce the way they were. He was already in the shower when I entered, vigorously rubbing at his face and hair under the spray as he cursed about the water not warming up fast enough and making jokes that his dick was now shriveled up to the size of an almond because it was so cold.

I shook my head and laughed as I threw his clothes into the hamper, “Dee, would you relax? I told your mom we might be a few minutes late. She was cool with it.”

He huffed loudly, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been to one of her Christmas parties in years. There’s gonna be a lot of family there that I’ve been avoiding.”

As I did some last-minute hair and makeup touch ups, Dieter stepped out of the shower. I glanced over at him, doing a double take as I noticed there was still a tinge of red in his hair near his temple. I pointed toward it, “You still have fake blood in your hair.”

He huffed out a quiet “fuck” as he threw his towel at me and stepped back into the shower, dumping more shampoo into his hand to scrub at the spot while he muttered expletives under his breath.

By the time he stepped out again, I was pulling on my dress for the party. It was solid black and very fitted with a boat neckline and exceptionally low back. I could feel his eyes on me as I adjusted the straps to sit properly. His hands gripped my hips from behind and squeezed at the meaty flesh, “Well, the almond dick issue is solved. You look so fucking sexy in this. Think we have time for a quickie?”

I scoffed jokingly, “No. We don’t, actually. Save it for later, lover boy.”

He whined, “OK. Fine. I wanna fuck you in my old bedroom anyway. That bed has never seen any action. It’s time.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “You’re so ridiculous.”

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek then grinned, “I know, but that’s why you love me.”

He wasn’t wrong, I loved his playful and carefree side. He made me smile more than anyone else ever had. We acted like a couple of big kids most days, always having fun and not taking each other for granted. We had both finally reached a point where we were happy, healthy, and ready for life-long companionship.

We had come into each other's lives at just the right time - him having hit his one-year sober anniversary and me finishing out therapy to deal with all of my childhood trauma. We met in the self-help section of a Barnes and Noble of all places. Both of us were looking for the same book with only one copy being found by him. After several minutes of looking for another one and coming up short, he offered to let me have it, but only if I gave him my phone number. I was hesitant at first, but it ended up being the best decision I had ever made. A year later we were still going strong and planning our future together.

I could feel my nerves bubbling up as we got into the car. I hadn’t officially met his family, but I had talked to his mom several times when she would call. That didn’t make me feel any better though.

I dug around in my purse, pulling out my phone to see if my best friend, Delia, had texted me back yet and found a notification from her.

Delia: Sorry, I’m just not feeling up to coming tonight. You two have fun. I’m sure they will all love you.

I sighed and shoved it back in my purse. Dieter glanced at me from the driver seat, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine once it was free.

“Something wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.

I shrugged, “I…don’t know, honestly. Delia’s been kind of weird lately. I feel like she’s avoiding me. I was really hoping she would come tonight. Having someone else there that I know would have been nice.”

His hand tightened in mine, “She’s probably just busy…she does have that new job.”

I sighed again, “Yeah…true. Maybe you’re right.”

He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, “Just relax, love. You’re letting the nerves get to you. I can tell. My mom is gonna love you…she already does.”

I laughed nervously, “She hasn’t even met me…”

He smiled, “Doesn’t matter. She knows you make me happy and keep me outta trouble. That’s all she’s worried about.”

We were quiet the rest of the way, but that didn’t stop Dieter from giving me reassuring hand squeezes and kisses. With him now focused on me, it seemed like his nerves had dissipated some, which was a good thing, at least.

As we parked outside his sprawling childhood home in the Hollywood Hills, I couldn’t ignore the bad feeling taking root in my gut and I didn’t know why. I finally shook it off as he reached into the backseat to fetch the Christmas bouquet he had purchased for his mom. From the looks of it, we were some of the first guests to arrive as Dieter had planned. He wanted to spend some time with his parents before things got too hectic. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad idea.

We were greeted with smiling faces and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Bravo were nothing but kind to me and mostly gushing about how well Dieter was doing and happy he was finally getting his life together. Dieter sat next to me with a shy smile and flushed cheeks as his mom doted on him. He would never admit it, but I knew it meant a lot to him that his parents finally saw him as something other than a failure.

As guests began to filter in, Dieter took the opportunity to take advantage of his parents' distraction, citing that he was going to show me around. The minute he checked over his shoulder with a smirk as he pulled me upstairs by one hand, I knew what he was up to.

We were both giggling like a couple of teenagers as he gave one last glimpse over his shoulder before pulling me into a room at the end of the hallway and locking the door behind us. It was like a time capsule. His parents had obviously not touched it since he moved out. The wall space was covered with 80’s movie and band posters. There was floor to ceiling shelves on one side of the room filled with books and old VHS tapes. It was very Dieter.

I could feel his eyes on me as I inspected the room. I suddenly turned to meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, “So, where do you keep the dirty magazines and porn videos?”

He snorted out a laugh, “Well…that all went with me when I moved out…buuut, I used to keep them buried at the back of the closet…in one of the many boxes labeled as comics.”

I chuckled, “That sounds about like what I expected.”

He suddenly pulled me into his arms and smiled against my lips, “We probably need to be fast, so mom doesn't get suspicious.”

His lips trailed down my neck as he backed me up against the dresser. I laughed before responding with a conspiratorial tone, “We can’t have that now, can we? She might ground you from your video games.”

He groaned against my shoulder before spinning me to face the dresser, meeting my gaze in the mirror as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of my back. I could already feel the arousal drenching my underwear as his thirsty eyes drank me up. His hands moved to the straps of my dress, slipping them over my shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet.

He licked his bottom lip as one hand reached around to gently knead at my breast, then pinched the nipple between his fingers. I moaned quietly at the sensation, leaning back against him as I grasped his hand and raised it to my mouth, sucking on his middle and index finger before placing them at my center. He wasted no time pulling my underwear aside to rub at the small bundle of nerves, eliciting a much louder moan from me. He chuckled against my ear, “Imma need you to be quiet, love. These walls are thin. Never know when somebody might walk by.”

His fingers dipped lower, first one, then two disappearing inside of me to expertly massage at that blissful spot that he knew so well. I gripped his arm with one hand, while the other tangled in his messy curls.

He hummed against my ear in that deep baritone voice of his, “So wet already, you’re always ready for me, aren’t ya honey?”

I nodded; my head dropped back against his shoulder as my eyes pinched shut.

“Oh no, love. Keep your eyes on me.”

My eyes met his reflection, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he fought a smirk. He always looked so fucking sexy when he did that. I could feel his bulge pressing against my ass as he continued to work me over, grinding into me as his hot breath came faster against my ear. He had me coming undone in his arms within minutes, never taking his eyes off mine as he worked me through my release.

He held me around the middle for support, lips grazing and nibbling at my neck until I regained my senses. I chuckled, turning my head toward him to capture his lips in a heated kiss. He pulled away slightly, just far enough that he could suck his fingers into his own mouth to taste me. All while never breaking our eye contact. I needed him immediately.

I turned in his arms, nimble fingers moving to the buttons on the front of his black dress shirt to unfasten them. He smiled down at me as I worked to remove his clothes, allowing me to take charge now. Once he was undressed, I pushed him back toward the tiny twin bed.

“Lay down so I can fuck you like you want me to, lover boy.”

His brown eyes rounded as he took in my words, turning giddy and scrambling onto the bed - his cock erect and bouncing as he went. I had to bite back a laugh at his excitement. His enthusiasm for sex never seemed to wane.

After he got situated, he patted at the tops of his thighs with a lopsided grin that caused his cheeks to dimple. “Alright, mount up and ride me, baby.”

I couldn’t help chuckling as I peeled off my underwear then moved to straddle his hips. After notching him at my entrance, I quickly sank down all the way, causing his jaw to fall open from the feeling. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place.

“Fuck, baby. You’re about to revert me back to my sixteen-year-old self and make me come after six seconds by doing shit like that.”

I leaned down, giggling against his scruffy chin before placing a kiss on the bare heart shaped patch in his beard. He let out a steady controlled breath before loosening his grip and nodding for me to continue. I sat up, placing my hands on his chest for leverage and began to move. We were met with a high-pitched squeaking sound. I paused, rolling my lips together in an attempt to hold in my laughter.

Dieter huffed, “It’s not that loud…keep going.”

I nodded and began to move again. Every time I sank down onto him - squeak, squeak, squeak. It only seemed to get louder each time.

My right hand flew to my mouth to hold in the giggles. I couldn’t help it.

Dieter’s eyes slid closed in defeat as he huffed out, “I guess there’s a reason this bed hasn’t seen any fucking action.”

I finally lost it, leaning down to bury my face in his chest as I burst into laughter. My movement caused the bed to squeak again which set us both off. It continued the incessant noise as our bodies shook from the hysterics, which only served to make things worse.

Dieter finally collected himself enough to wrap his arms around me and move to a sitting position, then twisted to hang his legs off the side of the bed. All while it continued to squeak with every movement.

“Fuck this. I’m a big boy now. Watch me make this work.”

He stood, wrapping my legs around his waist as he did so while I tried to stifle my giggles. He moved back toward the dresser, perching me on the edge of it as he repositioned himself at my entrance and sank in. The sudden sensation of him filling me caused our chuckles to turn to a deep groan. He stood there for a moment, allowing me to adjust to the new angle.

He smiled against my lips, “See…I got this.”

I gave him a teasing look and nodded, “Then get to it Bravo. Show me how it’s done.”

His hips began to move, slowly at first so I could feel every inch of him sliding against me. It was already creating a delicious sensation that would soon turn me into a quivering mess in his arms. He began to snap his hips a little faster which resulted in a thumping noise from the mirror smacking against the wall. The faster he went, the louder it got, which caused me to lose it all over again.

He stopped moving as his forehead tilted forward to lean against my shoulder, “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

When my eyes finally met his, he was fighting a smile. “I just wanna have sneaky sex in my old bedroom, is that too much to ask?”

I snickered as I pushed at his chest for him to back away, “Ok, it’s my turn. Watch and learn.”

I hopped down off the dresser and turned my back to him, leaning forward to place my hands on the top of the dresser to brace myself as I arched my ass toward him. I turned to look at him over my shoulder with a teasing smirk, “Mount up, lover boy.”

He chuckled as he came up behind me, one hand grasping my hip as the other gripped the base of his cock to slide back in. I gasped at the feel of him as he leaned flush against me, lips brushing my ear as he spoke. “You think you’re such a clever girl, don’t ya.”

I nodded as his hips snapped against my ass, now panting as I muttered out some teasing words. “I know I am.”

His hands snaked around to my front, one pulling me flush against him as the other rubbed tight circles on my clit. “I guess that means you deserve to come again. Come on, love. Give me another one.”

That was enough to send me over the edge again, causing him to grunt against my ear as my walls constricted around him. After a few more thrusts, his groans turned to soft whimpers as he spilled inside of me. His arms tightened around me as he buried his face into the top of my shoulder. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, attempting to catch our breath and come back to reality.

I felt his lips against my skin, placing gentle kisses before he raised his head to look at me with a blissed-out expression. “You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. Have I told you that today?”

I smiled up at him, “You have, but you can tell me that as many times as you want.”

He captured my lips in a brief kiss before pulling out with a groan. “Lemme see if I can find something to clean you up with.”

I stopped him, “No, leave it. I wanna keep you close tonight.”

His brows arched as he smirked at me, “Such a dirty girl. I fucking love it.”

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I know you do. Now get dressed. We’ve probably been gone too long as it is.”

He nodded as he turned to search out his clothes, tossing me my underwear before picking up his pants. We spent a few minutes getting decent. After touching up my makeup and sorting out Dieter’s messy sex hair, we finally made our way downstairs.

Dieter had his hands on either side of my waist as he walked closely behind me, leaning in next to my ear to whisper about how he was going to take this dress off of me again later. Neither of us paid much attention as we rounded the corner to the living room, causing us to nearly crash into a broad figure. I felt Dieter stiffen behind me as I began to murmur my apologies until my eyes met the chocolate ones peering down at me. With a smirk that was still sexy as ever, Lucien de Leon spoke in that deep raspy voice that I knew so well, “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see you coming.” He did not seem the least bit surprised to see me.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I wondered what the hell he was doing here. I felt Dieter’s grip tighten as he pulled me closer to him, “Lucien, I thought mom said you weren’t gonna make it?” His voice sounded off, almost like it was a warning more than a question.

Lucien shrugged as he glanced at me, “I…changed my mind.”

Dieter sighed, now peering down at me, “I guess I should introduce you…this is my brother, Lucien.”

Brother? What. The. Fuck. I was struggling to breathe as I gave Lucien a nervous smile, reaching my hand toward him to shake and giving him my name like it was the first time we had ever laid eyes on each other. He hesitated, still with that smirk before finally reaching out to take my hand in his to play along.

“So, you’re the one that’s turned my brother into a good boy, ehh?” he finally said in a teasing tone.

I gave him a tight smile, “No. Your brother did that himself. He worked for it.”

Dieter was beside me now, eyes shifting between Lucien and I with raised brows.

Lucien gave me an amused look before his eyes shifted to his brother, “Well, good for him. I’ll be shocked if it sticks.”

Dieter scoffed, “Fuck off. You don’t know me…I’ve changed.”

Lucien rolled his eyes in response before changing the subject. A smug look suddenly forming on his face, “I got a call back on that new Scorsese film. It’s supposed to be a big deal.”

Dieter gave him a very unimpressed stare, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m trying to care, but it’s hard. Besides, they offered me the lead and I turned it down. I have a prior commitment. I already have my Oscar, so whatever.”

I stifled a laugh as they exchanged a cold glare. Lucien seemed to break first, “Well, I’ll let you two get back to the party. I think mom was looking for you.”

He walked away without another word, ending the childish pissing match between them for the time being.

Dieter huffed, “Fucking asshole. Come on.”

After taking my hand, he pulled me through the tightly packed crowd in search of his mom. I could feel his calming warmth radiating through my skin, but mentally I was somewhere else. Ten years in the past to be specific, where I first met Lucien.

Lucien and I had been cast as the two leads in a play at one of the local theaters. Our relationship was all consuming, passionate, and toxic. We were right for each other in so many ways, but too broken to make it work. In all the ways that he was sweet, sexy, and charming he was equally as stubborn, selfish, and sometimes cruel. Not that I had been any better. Both of us were guilty of saying things we didn’t mean to purposefully hurt the other. We really did bring out the worst parts of each other. Though I still maintain most of our problems stemmed from his constant drinking. It was only ever bad when he was drinking. It turned him into another person that I eventually learned to hate and resent.

We tried being together several times over the years. It never failed. We would randomly run into each other in some public place, immediately fall back into bed and swear to do better, but it never worked. The same issues always inevitably reared their ugly head. I willingly gave him everything, and he broke me again and again.

Knowing our history and how easily we always found ourselves back together was igniting a fear in me. We were like magnets. It was damn near impossible for us to stay apart from each other. I ruined many good relationships for him, but I couldn’t do that now. I couldn’t do that to Dieter.

Dieter was amazing. He was all the things that Lucien was never able to be. He was all of the best parts of Lucien plus more. Dieter gave me his love and affection so willingly. With Lucien, I had to fight for scraps. Each little morsel kept my hope alive just enough to make me believe that he loved me as much as I loved him. Those little morsels were what kept me going for years, but in the end it wasn’t enough.

As Lucien’s star began to rise in the film industry, we finally hit a wall. He was pictured kissing some model at a Hollywood party, which made it into the tabloids, and inevitably into my hands. It was my last straw. I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I confronted him about it and ended things. He eventually became fairly well known in the film industry. It didn’t take long for him to establish his reputation as a womanizer and Hollywood fuckboy. As far as I knew, he still had that reputation, even if he was now considered to be a D-list actor.

It was a massive effort to keep myself in the present as Dieter and I mingled with his family and friends. It didn’t help that I kept catching Lucien’s gaze from where he wandered on the outskirts of the crowd. I knew exactly where he was at all times because I could feel his eyes burning into me. It was making me anxious. I knew him and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy on me. We had played this game too many times.

I needed a break, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Upon finding a line for the downstairs bathroom, I made my way upstairs since no partygoers were permitted up there. Once I was finally alone, I let out a sigh of relief. Now focusing on my breathing to try and get my heart rate back to normal. Being away from Lucien was doing me wonders, allowing me to ground myself and fully come back to the present. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the same person anymore. I could resist him now.

After finishing up, I opened the door to exit but was suddenly crowded backwards into the small room. My nose was assaulted with the familiar smell of Lucien's musky cologne as he turned to close and lock the door behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.

“I need to talk to you,” he answered with pleading eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push past him. “I have nothing to say, and I can’t be here with you.”

He held out his arm, grabbing me around the middle to stop my progress. “Baby, please. I just wanna talk, I swear.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I moved to the opposite side of the room, “Don’t call me that.”

“Why are you with my brother?” he asked. Not even acknowledging my demand.

I let out a sardonic laugh, “I didn’t know he was your brother.”

His brows furrowed, “How the fuck did you not know we’re brothers?”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was David.”

His brows raised, “It is…legally. Didn’t he tell you that?”

I rubbed a hand down my face, “You don’t even have the same last name! How the fuck was I supposed to know?”

He looked amused now, “You didn’t think it odd that we look so similar?”

I let out a controlled breath, “No, I didn’t actually. I have a type, OK. I know this. I just figured you guys looked alike in the way that Elijah Wood and Daniel Radcliffe look alike…or Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan…or Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.”

He chuckled, “You do know that Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen are brothers, right?”

I sighed, “No, I didn’t. Maybe you fuckers should keep the same last name to cut back on the confusion.”

He was smiling at me now, “You’re still feisty I see. God, I’ve missed that.”

I held up my hand to silence him, “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Come on honey, you know you miss me.” That ridiculous smirk was back on his lips as I glared at him.

“So, I take it you haven’t told my brother about me after that little stunt you pulled downstairs.”

I rolled my eyes, “No. Not by name anyway. All he knows is that I had a problematic ex that fucked me up.”

He sucked air through his teeth, “That’s harsh. You know you can’t blame all that on me.”

I stared at him for a beat, “No. You’re right. You just added to it and took it over the top.”

He came closer, causing me to back up against the sink as he looked me over from head to toe.

“You look beautiful tonight. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you…”

I refused to look his way as he leaned in closer, “I noticed. You need to stop it before someone notices.”

His curved nose grazed the shell of my ear. I had to force my thighs not to clench together from the contact.

“I miss you ya know? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you…but you’ve been hard to track down. Now I know why.”

I jerked away from him, “What do you want, Lucien? Your little game isn’t gonna work this time. I’m not falling for it. I love Dieter.”

His eyes widened, “Love? Well, that’s a development. I don’t remember you saying that about any of the others.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes. I love him…I’m happy. We’re…getting married.”

He scoffed, “You realize he’s been married twice already…right? This isn’t new for him.”

That hit a nerve, and he knew it.

“That may be true, but he wasn’t sober then. He is now. He’s got his life figured out…unlike you.”

He feigned offense, “Hey, I went to rehab too you know. I’m trying here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you I’m sorry.”

His energy shifted. I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his games or not. I was taken off guard as he turned away from me, seeming almost pensive as he continued.

“I know…I’m a large part of the reason that we never worked. I was emotionally unavailable, and I let what little fame I managed to gain go to my head. I broke a lot of my promises…you deserved better.”

I let out a steady breath, attempting to control my emotions. I had waited years to hear those words, eventually accepting that I never would. Yet, here we were.

“Well, I appreciate the apology. Thank you for that.”

He gnawed at his lip for a beat before turning to meet my gaze, “Do you think…maybe we could try again?”

Anger flooded through me. He was giving me whiplash from all the different emotions he was pulling out of me in such a short time period. I shook my head, biting back a disdainful laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”

It was his turn to shake his head, “No. I’m not. I’m still in love with you. It was always you. I was just too stupid to see it.”

I felt near bursting into tears, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, pain, or something else. “I’m not doing this with you again.”

His brows pinched together, “You really think he can make you happy? He’s nothing but the knock off version of me. You’re attracted to him because he reminds you of me. Admit it.”

I scoffed, “You two may look similar, but Dieter is nothing like you. He and I have connected in ways we never will. If you wanna compare…he’s the name brand version that I should have started with. You were a bad decision, a waste of my time and money, and I can’t even get a fucking refund.”

He pursed his lips, allowing time for the words to sink in. That hit a nerve as intended.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure my fiancé is wondering where I am. I can’t have him finding us in here together.”

I brushed past him to unlock and open the door. He didn’t stop me this time. I felt strangely liberated as I made my way downstairs, never having been able to deny Lucien in that way before. I wasn’t weak anymore. I was the one in control.

It didn’t take long for me to find Dieter. His tea kettle laugh could be heard over everyone else. All I had to do was follow the sound. As I approached, he wrapped his arm around me and placed a quick kiss on the top of my head before he went back to his conversation. I loved seeing him like this. His happiness from reuniting with his family after so many years of being ostracized over his bad behavior and drug habits helped ground me.

Dieter was attentive as we continued to mingle, making sure to include me in his conversations while keeping physical contact at all times. From the way he kept glancing at me, I knew he could sense the lingering tension from my interaction with his brother. He probably just assumed it was nerves from meeting his family and hopefully didn’t suspect anything, but I knew I would have to tell him the truth. And soon.

Though I made a point to keep my attention on Dieter, I could still sense Lucien’s presence. It seemed like the harder I tried to ignore him, the more taunting he became. He worked his way through the crowd, becoming louder and more boisterous as the evening went on. With each pass around the room, I found him getting closer and closer. Eventually, I found him chatting in the groups near us, positioning himself where he was in my direct line of sight or close enough behind me that he could brush against me in some way. His proximity was affecting me in ways I didn't want to admit. There was something sort of thrilling about our secret and his audacious behavior that was arousing. However, the moment I looked at Dieter, it all disappeared. He was my life now. He held my heart carefully. Lucien never did anything but smash it into a million pieces.

I briefly stepped away from Dieter to grab us a bottle of water from the kitchen. As I stood with the refrigerator door open, I was surprised to feel strong hands grip my hips, then slide around my waist to pull me closer. Plump lips trailed down the curve of my neck, causing me to suck in a breath. I knew instantly who it was from the way he touched me and the feel of his mouth. My body betrayed me, reacting on instinct as it melted into his embrace. My mind finally caught up, causing me to abruptly turn and push him away.

“What the fuck is you’re problem, Lucien?”

His cocky grin was back, “I’m just reminding you what you’re missing, baby. I can tell; you're questioning yourself. You’re not sure what you want. I’m here to make sure you know your options.”

I scoffed, “You’re so fucking delusional. Leave me alone.”

I grabbed a bottle of water, then slammed the door closed as I moved away from him. Once back with Dieter, I felt distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lucien’s lips felt on my body or the way his stupid gold chains used to gently graze against my skin as he moved above me. The thoughts caused that familiar ache to form at the apex of my thighs. I hadn’t seen or sensed Lucien since leaving him in the kitchen, yet he was still having this effect on me.

I suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic at the realization. I didn’t understand what it meant. Dieter noticed, leaning in to ask if I was feeling ok as his hand rubbed soothing circles on my lower back. I nodded, “Yeah, I think I just need some air.”

He moved to come with me, but I stopped him. “No, you stay and talk to your uncle. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

I soon found myself on the back patio, inhaling deeply to catch my breath as the chilly night air instantly cooled my burning skin. It was a relief and allowed me to calm the storm that was brewing inside of my mind. The reaction I was having to Lucien was purely physical. It meant nothing. I didn’t love him anymore. This would feel differently if that wasn’t the case.

Suddenly, I felt that magnetic pull. My attention was drawn to the shadows, seeing the glow of a cigarette before Lucien stepped into the light. He came closer and offered it to me.

I shook my head, “I don’t smoke anymore.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

There was an awkward silence that stretched between us as he puffed away until the cigarette was done. His mood now seemed a little more somber than it had in the kitchen.

He finally spoke, “You know…I was just watching you two together…from out here. You’re different with him…and him with you. I can tell you really care about each other…and you lean on each other for support. That’s good. I’m happy you’ve both found that.”

I was taken aback by his words, but I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

“Maybe one day I’ll find that too. I think it would do me some good.”

I gave him a soft smile, “It always helps to have a support system.”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Do you remember how we used to go to the video store and rent like five movies and stay up all night to watch them in bed?”

I nodded and smiled at the memories. It was some of our happier times together.

“You used to get so mad at me for eating chips in the bed because of the crumbs, but then I would always find stray peanut m&m’s a week later.”

I laughed, “Chip crumbs are way worse to clean than peanut m&m’s though.”

He nodded and chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

His brows furrowed, “I don’t think I’ve eaten or watched a movie in bed since you left. That was our thing. I can’t do it without you.”

I sighed, “Lucien, don’t do this. Please.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Just wait. I-I-I real- I-I really have to do this…I need to get these unresolved feelings out. I fucked up. A lot. I know this. I was selfish and mentally checked out before the good parts, the house…the kids, the Christmas cards. I’m sorry for that. I just felt so much pressure about it all. I needed to accomplish too much to get us there and I didn’t think I could do it.”

He moved in closer, cupping my cheek as he gave me that baby cow eye look that always bent me to his whim. I couldn’t move or breathe.

“I do still love you. I meant that. I would do anything to have you back.”

He leaned in further and paused, giving me a chance to rebuff him again, but I couldn’t. I was still frozen by him, his words, his voice, his touch…I could feel that small ember that burned for him slowly igniting into a flame as I got lost in his soulful eyes. I felt confused. I couldn’t distinguish if it was my heart or cunt talking, telling me to at least see where things go.

When I didn’t immediately pull away, he closed the distance between us, capturing my mouth with his. His kiss was commanding, confident, and sensual. It stirred something inside me that I admit I never felt with anyone else, not even Dieter. It was feral and uninhibited in almost an unhealthy way. He broke the kiss, both of us panting as our gazes met. My resolve was quickly crumbling, and he knew it.

That cocky smirk returned to his lips as he took my hand and pulled me toward the side of the house that was hidden in the shadows. It was like my brain had switched into autopilot, entering the submissive state that he loved so much.

After caging me in against the side of the house, his lips crashed into mine as he dipped lower to grind his hips against me. I could feel his hard length pressing against my center, and God I wanted it. I wanted him.

His lips began to trail downward, nipping and licking down the curve of my neck.

I sighed, attempting to gain my resolve as I managed to say, “Lucien, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

My actions did not match my words as my fingertips knotted in his hair and held him tighter to me. I could feel him smiling against my skin, continuing to place small kisses between his words as he responded.

“It’s not really happening. We’re just finishing unfinished business in a parallel universe.”

I chuckled, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

His lips were hovering near mine, smiling as he replied, “I know…that’s why you love me.”

His words made me think of Dieter. That was always his response too. Lucien’s hand reached for the left strap of my dress, beginning to lower it off my shoulder before I stopped it and forced him to meet my gaze.

“What about your brother? Your mom? If we do this, it’s gonna hurt them. I don’t think there’s any coming back from that.”

He shrugged, “I don’t care. They don’t matter to me. I need you in my life. Please.”

“You think I can hurt them like that?” I asked. His spell over me was quickly fading.

“You’ll have me, baby. It’ll be ok.”

As my eyes drifted over his stupidly beautiful face it was now obvious to me, he hadn’t changed. Not really. He might or might not be sober, but he was still a selfish asshole who only ever thought of himself. He still had a way to go before he actually had his shit together and learned to be a better person.

He obviously couldn’t read the shift in my mood as he leaned in to suck on my neck.

I moved my lips closer to his ear, “You know I just had sex with your brother less than three hours ago in his old bedroom upstairs.”

He pulled away with a confused look. “What? You wanna fuck me in my old room too?”

He was missing the point. This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore.

“I can still feel his cum dripping out of me. Does that not bother you?”

His brows furrowed as he turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fucking hell, do you have to be so crass about it? That’s not exactly what I wanna be thinking about right now.”

I scoffed, “Crass? That’s ironic coming from you…and yes. If that’s what I need to do to get my point across, then so be it. I’m not that person anymore, Lucien. I’m putting an end to this now. I will not do this to Dieter…I love him too much. I’m not ruining my life for you ever again.”

His jaw clenched, “Who says you would be ruining your life? I’m ready to settle down and have a family, a house… all the things I promised.”

I had to bite back a laugh, “Then why don’t you do that with one of the five women you already have kids with.”

His brows arched, “Excuse me? I only have two kids.”

He paused and grimaced, “There may be a third one, but I’m not sure what’s happening with that, yet...”

My mouth dropped open with that news, “Oh and when were you gonna tell me about that? You’re seriously out here professing your love to me when you’ve knocked up someone else? You’re a real piece of work. You’re obviously still a hot fucking mess. I can’t believe you seriously think you can offer me more than Dieter.”

He laughed as he crowded my space again, “Is that what it’s about? Money?”

I pushed him away, “Fuck you. You know that’s not what I mean. He loves me and he makes sure I know it. I don’t have to beg him for affection or an emotional connection. He gives it willingly.”

He rolled his eyes, “Right, he must not give you everything you need if you’re melting in my hands so easily.”

We were already sliding back into old habits by slinging insults at each other. This is why we didn’t work.

“Did you miss the part where I said we just had sex? He’s much more attentive than you ever were. I’ve never had to fake it with him.”

I could tell that was his final straw. There was no questioning Lucien de Leon’s skill in the bedroom. In his mind, he was a sex god. He wasn’t wrong. He was fucking amazing in bed, but he didn’t need to know I thought that.

His jaw clenched as his face flushed with anger. He looked like he was considering his next words before he spoke. Obviously deciding he was going for maximum damage.

“I got Delia pregnant.”

I felt like a bomb had just detonated in my face, swallowing the world around us and leaving nothing but ringing in my ears. Once I regained my senses, all I could manage to get out was a strangled, “What?”

He had his cocky asshole smile on now, suddenly playing it casual.

“Yeah, I saw her out at a bar several months ago. I wanted to ask her about you… and we just started talking…had one too many drinks…then went back to her place and spent all night fucking. We’ve seen each other on and off a few times since then. So, yeah. I knocked up your best friend.”

I hated him. I hated him for the way he had treated me and for whatever way he was about to treat her even though she should have known better.

I scoffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

I pushed past him to go back inside. I could hear him apologizing as he followed behind me, realizing he finally took it too far. I was telling him to ‘fuck off’ just as Dieter stepped outside. Lucien and I stopped short at the edge of the patio when we realized Dieter was there, eyes shifting between the two of us as he worked out what he was seeing.

I sighed, my eyes closing in defeat and shame realizing there was no way to get out of it, but I didn’t want him finding out like this.

Dieter approached; lips set into a tight line as he continued to look between us. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Lucien looked at me with wide eyes. For once in his life, he was keeping his damn mouth shut. I inhaled deeply; my mouth opened but no words came out. I didn’t know where to start.

Dieter’s brows furrowed, “You slept with my brother…didn’t you?”

The look on my face must have told him all he needed to know as he pursed his lips and nodded in understanding. “I mean…it’s not the first time this has happened with him and someone I was dating. So, I shouldn’t be shocked.”

I stepped closer to him, “Dieter, it was years ago. Before I knew you…I didn’t know he was your brother or else I would’ve told you. I mean…I kind of told you, but I didn’t say his name. He’s the one that fucked me up so badly.”

I could see anger flash in his eyes as he shot daggers toward Lucien, realizing all the terrible things he had done to me. “I always knew you were an asshole, but damn. You need some serious help.”

Lucien had the audacity to look offended by that before Dieter’s attention turned back to me. “And you…how the hell did you not know he was my brother? Everybody knows that.”

I scoffed, “You told me your brother's name was Richard. And you fuckers don’t even have the same last name…You know what, I’m not having this conversation again…”

Dieter shrugged, “His name is Richard…legally. He didn’t tell you that?”

I huffed, rubbing at my temple, “Fucking hell, you two. Maybe you’re more alike than I realized.”

I couldn’t help the giggle that suddenly escaped as I peered up at Lucien, “Your name is actually Dick? That’s fitting…should have stuck with it.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, “Fuck off with that.”

Dieter snorted out laughter as he pulled me into his side, “I love you. Your so fucking perfect.”

I sighed in relief as our gazes met, “You’re not angry with me?”

He shook his head, “How can I be? It was years ago. Besides, I know how he is…always been more charming than me. All the ladies fall for him at some point. At least you’ve already gotten it out of your system.”

Lucien suddenly looked disgusted as he muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this…”

My eyes narrowed at him, “Lucien, you really need to get it together…reevaluate your life. And it sounds to me that you have someone else you need to work things out with. Do right by her, please.”

His brows pinched together as his eyes met mine. An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were done. For good. I gave him a tight smile as I nudged Dieter toward the door to go inside. Lucien didn’t move to follow, but I could feel his eyes on us until I closed the door behind us.

A short time later, Dieter’s mom announced the news of our engagement to everyone. She didn’t hesitate to pull us in for tight hugs as she congratulated us with a wide toothy smile. I could see Lucien in my periphery, jaw tense with a slight frown on his lips and a bottle of something in hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Even with all the bravado and posturing, I could tell he was hurt. I didn’t doubt that he had feelings for me, but they were never enough to make him change his ways.

After Lucien left, things felt more relaxed. Dieter and I enjoyed the rest of the evening together, smiling happily as we told his parents goodbye to head home. We soon found ourselves snuggled up on the sectional next to the fireplace as we admired our first Christmas tree. Our conversation eventually turned to Lucien and our history. I helped fill in the gaps and answer any questions Dieter had, making sure he knew I was committed to him and him alone.

“I know he’s your brother, and it may make things harder between you two, but I can never fully forgive him for how he treated me…but I do wish him well. I hope that he can get his life together and find peace.��

Dieter sighed, “He's such an almighty fuck up. And I love him…but he makes it hard. I miss who he used to be. We used to be so close…until the Hollywood lifestyle started getting to us. Everything became a competition and we both sort of spiraled out of control in so many ways. Maybe one day…I’ll get my brother back. I can’t forgive him for everything, but I can try.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, “Maybe you should offer an olive branch? Maybe he would let you help him get sober?”

Dieter pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah…maybe…”

Lucien’s POV

As I sat and watched the love of my life and brother announce their engagement to the family, a lot of thoughts and feelings were swirling around in my head. After seeing them together, I couldn’t deny they were both happy. She had chosen the better man. I accepted it at that moment, deciding it was time to move on.

Not wanting to stick around and further wallow in my pain, I found myself outside Delia’s small studio apartment with a fresh bottle of bourbon in hand. I had been in denial about her for weeks. After our time together I was beginning to feel…something for her. She wasn’t the one that I wanted in my future, but that didn’t mean she was a bad choice. If she decided to keep the baby, she was going to be part of my future anyway.

We spent some time discussing things and I assured her I would be supportive if she decided to keep the baby. Personally, I wanted her to. I had a sudden urge to try and make things work with her. As I laid next to her sleeping form on the bed, staring at the small christmas tree illuminated in the corner and nursing a glass of bourbon, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I was surprised to see that it was my brother calling. I sighed, my thumb hovering over ‘ignore’ before I finally decided to answer.

I quickly stood, moving to the bathroom to avoid waking Delia, then answered.

“Well, well. Hello brother. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I could hear Dieter suck in a breath on the other end of the line, “I uhh…just wanted to check in and make sure you’re good.”

His words and tone stirred something inside of me. This was the old Dieter talking. The one I cared about before things went to hell between us. It caused a rush of emotions that I had to fight back, inhaling deeply to collect myself before I answered,

“Yeah, I’m good…your girl really knows how to bring a man to his knees, but I’ll live. I can see that she’s happy and that’s all that matters. I’m moving on.”

Dieter chuckled, “That she can do…but that doesn’t mean she…that we…don’t care about your wellbeing. I want you to know that. If you ever decide…to try…to wanna get sober, I wanna help you. I want us to move past all the shit we did to each other and try to be brothers again.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was shocked, but I didn’t hate the idea. Deep down, I did miss my brother. I tried to cover my emotions with a snicker, “Well, isn’t this a Christmas fucking miracle. I guess this means the Bravo brothers are back…Maybe I’ll change my name again.”

Dieter laughed, “Let’s not get too crazy now…one step at a time.”

My brows furrowed as tears formed in the corners of my eyes, “Do you think you could uhh…send me the information for that rehab place you went to?”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah…I’ll send it right over. If you decide you wanna go…I can…take you…if you want?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. I had to clear the lump in my throat before I could respond, “Uh, yeah…I think I’d like that.”

“Amazing…well…just tell me when you’re ready and I’m there, brother.”

He sounded like he was fighting his emotions just as much as I was.

“I will…It was…good to talk to you.”

“You too. Merry Christmas, Lucien.”

A small smile formed on my lips, “Merry Christmas, Dieter.”

After hanging up with Dieter, I didn’t think twice before seeking out the bourbon I had arrived with and pouring it down the drain. I could feel it. This was a turning point for me. A new path that I had to choose to take because I wanted to, not because it was expected. If Dieter could do it, then so could I. It was time I moved on with my life and found happiness too.

As I snuggled up next to Delia, I could faintly envision our future together. If she was willing to try, then so was I. Maybe she was meant to be my happy ending…with the house, the kids, and the fucking Christmas cards.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for stopping by!

I've gotta say...the speed at which I busted this out (less than 48 hours) has to be a record. And here I was worried it wouldn't be done by Christmas. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!🤣

👉If you're a Dieter lover (like myself) and you're new to my work, I have lots more for you to enjoy HERE. Including my mystical Christmas fic from last year. I've also got a little Frankie thrown on the masterlist too. Happy reading!💜

Tagging those who interacted with the teaser post:

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #lucien flores #lucien de leon #dieter bravo #christmas drama #angst #choices #this ain't no hallmark movie #christmas fucking miracle #i gave you my heart #dieter bravo fic rec #dieter bravo one shot fic rec #lucien flores fic rec #lucien flores one shot fic rec #BlueChristmasWritingChallenge2024

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 19 days ago

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Take Them All On

|| Sevika x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader being followed, brief swearing, group of men flirting with reader, panic/fear, Sevika kicks ass, kinda injured reader? not really, hurt/comfort

|| Summary; when reader goes to meet up with Sevika for a date, she notices she's being followed.

Requests closed!

Started; December 23rd

Finished; December 23rd

HurtCember2024; Day 20, Panic

Author Note; I may open my fic requests up in the next couple days for Christmas, but I'll wait and see how caught up I get on all the stuff I'm writing now

~~~

Zaun. The streets were dangerous, luckily most people didn't dare bother you. They knew your connections to Sevika and her connections to Silco. Neither were to be messed with down here. But occasionally, there was that odd bunch of people that just- didn't know or completely ignored it.

You'd been on your way to meet with your girlfriend, walking quickly with your head down. Wanting to just disappear into the shadows. Something in your gut felt off. Like... there was an extra set of eyes on you. You couldn't shake the feeling. All the hairs on your body were standing tall and it was creating a sense of panic in you. An urge to get to Sevika faster.

Picking up the pace, you turned around a corner. Now moving at somewhere between a jog and a run. You were almost there. The Last Drop lights in view.

"Woah- fu-!" Next thing you knew, your face was in the ground. Having tripped over yourself in your rush. Carefully, you propped your arms up. There was some scrapes you could feel burning but it didn't seem to be anything major.

The sound of men laughing filled your ears," aw, sweetheart. We got you falling for us already?" You turned to the voices. You didn't recognize them, but the gleam in their eyes sent shivers down your spine. Not the good kind. Were they why you had felt eyes on you before? It seemed likely. Panic raised into your throat. You felt frozen, unable to move off the ground. There were more of them than you, you couldn't take them all on. One maybe, this many? No.

"You boys want something?" A familiar voice caught your attention and you instantly relaxed. Sevika. Your head turned to look at her, a grateful smile across your lips.

"Sev..." Her eyes weren't on you, though. There was a fixed glare as she walked past you and right to the group of men that had followed you. Standing between you and them, her back to you. She'd noticed them from the bar window and came out the moment you tripped. Sevika knew what the people in Zaun could be like and was not about to take any chances. Not when those chances came to you.

"We were just admiring the view you got there, Sevika. She's real fine. Ever thought of sharing her?" Another man said with a laugh.

You felt sick just listening to them.

Sevika, however, radiated intimidating energy. The whole room felt tense. Suffocating just with her presence alone, even for someone like you. Who wasn't on the receiving end of what she was about to dish out. You could only imagine what the group of men must feel.

Sevika ripped her cloak off, the fabric falling to the ground beside you and revealing her prosthetic. In the blink of an eye, that same prosthetic had gone from being at her side to slamming against the face of the man that dared speak about you. The force was enough to knock him to the ground. He didn't move so, you could only assume he was unconscious. If not dead. With Sevika it was kind of a 50/50.

The others looked startled for a brief second before regaining their composure. A five vs one fight broke out; Sevika really didn't look like she needed any help- you helped her out anyway. Taking on one of the guys. He was a lot bigger than you and both of you hardly even got a punch in when Sevika grabbed his face with her claw.

"Not a chance," She muttered. His face was met with the wall. You looked around and noticed everyone now looked about the same as the first guy. Just sprawled in different positions, with various injuries. Sevika took a moment to catch her breath then turned to look at you," you okay there, Princess?"

"Yeah... just a little scraped from my fall," you replied. Glancing down at your hands. Sure enough, there was a scrape or two. Sevika took your hands in her larger ones. Relieved that that's all you seemed to have gotten.

"I don't like you walking alone on these streets," Sevika sighed. She shouldn't have let you walk alone. She should have just gone and got you. She made a mental note that next time, she would come get you herself.

"I'm fine, you saved me, right? So, I'm fine," you smiled at her. Trying to reassure your girlfriend. Sevika just nodded, pulling you along towards The Last Drop where she'll take care of your scrapes in the bathroom.

She hated whenever you got hurt; it was supposed to be her job to protect you. Sevika's hardly going to leave your side now and probably make you do some fighting classes with her. Just for her own comfort.

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angelbarelywrites · 9 months ago

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♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

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eevees-hobbies · 24 days ago

Text

Loving You is My Tradition - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro)

AN: A Christmas-Themed Fic for @benkeibear as part of @pixelcafe-network's Secret Santa event! Merry Christmas, Luma! Surprise! I’m your annoying Secret Santa. Thanks for playing along with me while I kept slinking into your ask box. Also, fun fact: this is the longest thing I’ve ever posted on this hellsite. Growth.

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Toji, shows you that he can get into the holiday spirit, too!

CW: Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro. Established relationship. Christmas-centered. Soft/Introspective Toji. Brief mention of fucking him with a strap, Ass smacking, dirty talk, kissing, thigh riding, cunnilingus, dominant Toji, sub/dom reader, a lil biting, hair pulling, a handjob, use of the word whore but lovingly, reader is called baby girl, baby, pretty girl, and good girl. Minors Do Not Interact. || Word Count: 3.9K

Banner by me. Divider by @saradika-graphics

“You’re stressin’ me out, babe,” Toji calls out as his thumb flicks mindlessly across his phone's glossy–but still cracked–screen.

Your eyes flick over to him, observing that he looks anything but stressed—loose grey sweatpants hugging his narrow waist, black muscle tee clinging to the swell of his pecs, and legs kicked up on your table as though that’s where all civilized people park their feet.

“The only thing “stressful” about the holidays, Toji, is your lack of Christmas cheer,” you announce as you move a side table out of the way, making room for the 8-foot Christmas tree you plan on purchasing.

Toji’s eyes narrow as you call him out for being a stereotypical Grinch. But you’re not wrong, he actually hates Christmas: the roads are too crowded, lines are too long at his favorite stores and restaurants, and he hates how consumeristic the holiday is. And quite frankly, the holiday was a reminder of all the things he didn’t have.

Well, actually, he hated Christmas. Emphasis on the use of past tense here because he’s had a recent change of heart regarding the holiday. The catalyst to his shift in world-view? You, of course.

Sure, Christmas still sucks, but he’s found that over the years, it sucks even less because he has someone to come home to after a long job, someone who gifts him thoughtful shit without expecting anything in return, and someone who looks at him as if his hands aren't stained with blood, and as if the specters of past deeds and lives don't linger behind his eyes.

But most of all, watching you get hyped up about activities like decorating the Christmas tree or trying out a new cookie recipe makes him feel things he’s afraid to put a name to verbally.

He’s afraid to put a name to the fact that you’re the first person in a long while that has him looking forward to calling this place you share with him, home.

You make him yearn and ache, and he wants to be the strongest person in the world for you while simultaneously seeking the comfort that only you can provide. You are a contradiction that he gladly welcomes into his life.

But he’s always known—always felt this—ever since he first laid eyes on you and felt practically delirious at how fast and hard he fell for you.

It was the heart quickening, palm sweating, wondering what you’re doing and why you’re not texting him kind of delirium that had him questioning absolutely everything.

At the sound of your voice, Toji is brought out of his thoughts. “Are you going to help me?”

“Naw, my ass is a bit sore after last night, so I can’t do any heavy lifting.” He crosses his legs over one another as if to drive home the point further that his glutes will be permanently glued to the cushion of your couch for the remainder of the night.

The corner of your lip twitches at his reference to your extracurricular activities that led to him being reduced to a whining, whimpering mess on your strap the night before. “Funny that you can dish it out but can’t take it, pillow princess.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He barks out, but it’s too late. You’re already heading into a different room, probably to throw up obnoxious Christmas decorations in the bathroom or some other less-than-ideal place.

He just hopes it isn’t the Santa-themed shower curtains. Who the fuck needs Santa Claus staring at their junk when they’re trying to take a piss?

Truth be told, Toji was trying to conserve his energy. He had a long night ahead of him—a long night for which he needed you fast asleep.

He didn’t need you to know about his plans to do something special for you, and he certainly didn’t need your input every ten seconds about how Dancer and Prancer should be next to each other, and Dasher should be near Cupid…

Who. Gives. A. Fuck? Not Toji!

But she gives a fuck, so that means he has to give a fuck, he thinks, dragging a palm down across his face in exasperation. And so he looks up the lyrics to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and commits the names of the silly cartoon animals to memory.

“You seriously don’t have a tradition, Toji?” He looks up from his phone to see you carrying a giant reef to hang on the door outside. “You don’t have a single Christmas tradition that puts a smile on that mean mug of yours?”

“Just one,” he murmurs, knowing you can’t hear him through the thick wood of the door.

Wall-shaking thumps and the sound of something heavy being dragged rouse you from your sleep that same night.

You think it has been going on for a few hours now, but being between sleep and reality has made you less inclined to check out the noise. Besides, if Toji—your shoot-first, ask-questions-never boyfriend—isn’t worried about it, neither are you.

As you turn to your side–a feeble attempt to lull yourself back to sleep–you notice that Toji is missing from his usual bedside. It isn’t unusual–sometimes he has trouble sleeping at night, and you find him sitting by himself in the living room, lost in the recesses of his brain, which he chooses not to burden you with.

Your eyes shoot upward at the ceiling as you continue to hear something knocking rather aggressively against the roof. Against your better judgment, you decide to investigate. You begrudgingly tear yourself away from the comfort of your warm bed and grab the robe you usually wear for lazy days around the house.

“I swear, if I see a man in a big red suit, I’m going to ask Toji to hide the body,” you grumble as you open your front door, your boots sinking into fresh snow as you tilt your head and look above.

Toji hears the sound of the door creaking open. Knowing it isn’t anyone but you, he peers over the side of the rain gutters, only to shoot you a glare at your lack of appropriate clothing for the weather.

God, you frustrating, annoying, beautiful, perfect woman. What the hell are you wearing? He thinks as he anchors the last reindeer into position.

And with perfect precision, Toji jumps off the roof, rising from crouching to standing before you can fully turn your attention to him. “What the fuck are you doing out here in nothing but a robe?” He growls, pulling you closer to him.

And he’s right. It’s incredibly cold outside, but you can’t pull your eyes away from the roof. All the Christmas decorations that had previously been in storage and that you had planned to put up yourself were already up and shining vibrantly.

Bulbed lights of reds, greens, and yellows adorn the rim of your roof, and a red sleigh pulled by nine reindeer—all in their proper positions—stands placed in a way that makes it look like they’re ready for take-off.

“Say something,” he grumbles, kicking some of the snow at his feet mindlessly and looking everywhere but at you at that moment.

Your heart clenches because even though it’s discrete, you can hear a hint of vulnerability in his gruff voice.

“You did all this for me? I…this is so sweet, Toji.”

The wonder shining behind your eyes and ringing in your voice has Toji looking up at you from where his bangs had fallen into his face. The lights he strung up pale in comparison to the radiance you emit. You’re a picture of everything that’s right in his world.

No, a picture would and could never do you justice.

Fresh snow is still falling from the sky, dusting your hair in white crystalline shapes that make Toji’s eyes soften. His gloved hand reaches instinctively to clear the fallen snow from your tresses, but he stops, wanting nothing more than to keep you memorialized like this.

He has so much bad shit burned into his mind that when he can commit something pure and beautiful like this moment, like you, in his mind, he does.

And who is he to diminish the light of an angel's halo?

“Of course, I did this for you, dummy. You get so wrapped up in the Christmas bullshit. If you were anyone else, anyone who wasn’t you, I’d probably make fun of you for it.”

You nod silently as you allow him the space to express himself, especially knowing how tough this time of year is for him. Toji rants and raves about the expensive nature of the holiday, but you know his foul mood stems from something deeper.

After a beat, he continues despite the strain you hear in his voice. “But I like seeing you happy. And I know sometimes I’m not always the source of your happiness, fuck, I’m probably the source of your irritation sometimes, too,” He trails off, both of you chuckling at his joke as you lean further into his warmth.

His face quickly sobers, “A couple of hours ago you asked me if I had a tradition and I think my answer is a little untraditional, but my tradition is you. All I want is to make you happy, smile, and be someone you can depend on, always, but especially now.”

You blink rapidly, willing the fast-forming moisture to stay at bay while you swallow thickly and continue to listen in silence.

“Sometimes, you give so much of yourself to others, always making sure that everyone else is ok before you even think about yourself, and I wanted to do something, anything, to show you that you’re at the top of someone’s mind.”

For a moment, you don’t know what to say because this is so uncharacteristically sweet of him. Toji has his sweet moments, but those are more subtle. But here Toji is not only performing a grand gesture, but it’s also accompanied by a speech that is clearly from the depths of his heart.

And when you tear your eyes away from the blinking lights to look at him, your heart can only ache. Because he looks like he’s holding his breath to hear what you have to say–his cheeks are flushed a light pink, misty air is jutting out in plumes from his lips, and his eyes are vulnerable and wanting even as he tries his best to hide it.

“This means so much to me, Toji.”

He nods, his lips curling into a small smirk. It’s as if your validation pumps air into his chest.

“Good, because gift option #2 was my dick in a box. Now, let's get inside–I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

He delivers a playful slap to your ass–palm meeting clothed flesh in a loud smack that echoes through the empty street.

You didn’t realize how cold you were until you stepped back inside your home. Your body began to tremble, and the robe did little to retain your heat.

Toji notices, too, and he frowns, grunting his displeasure and helping you strip out of your quickly dampening robe. A low, satisfied grumble reverberates through his chest as he watches your flesh reveal, inch-by-tantalizing inch.

“Idiot, you came outside in a robe and your underclothes?” His tone is half incredulous and half in awe, eyes raking over your curves and swells with rapt—and perverted—attention.

“I thought it was an emergency! Who has time for jeans when there’s a man on a roof?”

He can’t help but roll his eyes, but the corner of his lip twitches, the scar on his lip looking more prominent with the movement.

Toji leans in, his tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. “You know, skin-to-skin contact is the fastest way to warm someone up. Let me put some color back into those cheeks, baby.”

He backs you up against the wall while shedding his winter coat and gloves. “I think I deserve a reward for my efforts, don’t you?”

“Is that why you did it?” you chide back softly with a shaky breath as he dips his head low and licks a long stripe along your neck. His tongue is warm and yet you still can’t help the goosebumps that appear on your arm or the way your nipples harden as if a cool draft just blew past.

“Naw, but it don’t hurt.”

And with a chuckle, Toji is lifting you up effortlessly, tossing you over his shoulder, and carrying you into your shared bedroom. If there was any confusion about his intentions, his firm grip on your ass with the occasional, hearty smack and squeeze to your malleable flesh allows you to speculate.

The vulnerable Toji you caught a glimpse of outside is nowhere to be found as he tosses you onto the mattress. “Fuck, I love the way you bounce,” he purrs as he slots himself between your thighs.

His mouth is on yours–hot, all-consuming, and demanding. Toji always kisses you as though tonight could be your final kiss, and you kiss him as though you’re trying to convince him that that simply isn’t the case.

His hands waste no time pushing apart your legs, exposing your panty-clad core to his heated gaze. You, desiring his attention, spread yourself willingly to him.

But instead of touching you where you need him most, his thumbs settles between the smooth flesh of your inner thighs, rubbing small tight circles against your skin as he coaxes your tongue out of your mouth to dance with his.

You buck your hips in an attempt to get him to move his fingers higher but he clicks his tongue in disapproval, gripping your hip and keeping you in place.

“How about,” he muses softly as he trails open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. “You ride my thigh like a good girl first, yeah? Show me how a good girl behaves, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re soaking the bed sheets for.”

And just how he slotted his waist against your sex, he’s now replacing his torso with his thigh which is firm but does little to quell the heat between your legs.

But you’re no stranger to this sort of request from him. The open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point pause as if he’s daring–waiting–for you to disobey.

“Yes, Toji.” You grip his shoulders and start to grind yourself against his thigh, and he lets out a low approving groan.

“Thaaaaat’s a good girl,” he drawls out as the hand on your hip gives a supportive squeeze and guides your movements.

Seeing you so submissive and so agreeable makes an undeniable fire burn within his abdomen and makes his cock drool precum in the confines of his boxers.

“H-how long?” you pant, your hungry eyes meeting his. He reaches down, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, dark eyes boring into yours as he spreads your legs further apart with his thigh.

“Until I say otherwise.”

You let out a soft groan, as he shifts his thigh, pressing it harder into your slick, throbbing sex. Even through the barrier of your underwear, the friction is delicious.

Toji smirks as he watches you, your hips undulating side-to-side, up-and-down, hitching when you hit the occasional spot that makes your eyes almost roll into the back of your head. He licks his lips as he watches a small wet spot form into the denim of his jeans where your cunt is rubbing against.

“Look at you. You’re always so messy” he coos condescendingly, but not without warmth. “Here, let me take care of you like I promised.”

And take care of you he does. He hooks his thumbs through the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls the garment down, his smirk growing wider as you lift your hips to speed up the process.

“My helpful, needy girl,” he murmurs. Toji lowers himself down between your thighs, broad shoulders acting as a natural thigh separator and leg rest for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off of you as he descends.

Not when his warm breath ghosts across your labia, making your clit twitch between your folds and descend further from the protection of its hood.

Not when his thick tongue darts out, licking a long slow stripe up your slit and separating you down the middle with a muffled groan.

And certainly not when he puckers his lips, creating a gentle suction around your clit with his mouth, alternating between slowly making out with your sensitive bud and firm suckles.

“Come on, pretty girl. Ride my face like how you were riding my thigh,” he purrs as he briefly presses a love bite against your inner thigh, soothing it with his tongue and then returning to lavishing your cunt with his tongue.

“You’re going to have to work for it, Toji Bear” you muster through a shaky moan, still finding the oxygen to tease him with one of your favorite nicknames. Your fingers thread through his hair, gently tugging at the dark tresses as you grind your cunt against his mouth.

And Toji? Toji volunteers up his tongue like an offering to your churning hips, moaning as you sink yourself deeper and deeper onto him, reveling in the squeeze of your slick, gummy walls against his tongue.

“Fuck, yeah, love. Use me, baby. Fuck my face.” he encourages through barely restrained grunts which quickly divulge in gargles as he swallows every single drop you give.

“Damn,” he finally says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His body moves up yours—predatory and practiced, like he owns the space between your thighs.

Dark eyes bore into yours as one hand moves down to expertly unbutton his pants. His other tangles through your hair to angle your face for better access as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Could drink you down for fucking days. Would you let me?”

Through heated, messy kisses, you nod even though he needn’t have to ask. You’d give him the world if he asked.

A low hiss of approval slides past his lips as he feels the heat from your core. “I wanna take my time, but when you’re looking at me like this—like you’re asking to be split you open on my fat cock, and you’ll fucking die if I don’t give it to you, fuck, it makes me—“

And before he can finish, he’s spearing himself inside of you, fat cockhead kissing your womb in a way that makes you want to cry, beg, pray for more.

Your nails find purchase against his shoulder blades enjoying the flex as he grips your thighs and folds you within yourself to get himself impossibly deeper.

He pulls your hair, forcing you to look at the way his thick cock pulls out—glistening with your arousal, the white ring of your lust lathering his veined shaft—and pushes back in with a filthy squelch.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” He pants, voice tilting upward in obvious mockery. “Getting all emotional and soft with you while still fucking you like a whore. Merry Christmas, right baby?”

All you can muster out is a soft whimper, his cock stealing your breath away with every willful stretch of your cunt.

Toji, noticing your inability to speak, chuckles heartily. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” His eyes roam over the entirety of you in this state—face contorted in pleasure, breasts bouncing, body folded in half yet still open for him like you were meant for this.

For you, the fucking is good, really good, but there’s also something about everything that Toji previously shared with you that makes this feel deeper—as if a new avenue of connection was forged between you both.

Who knew that vulnerability could strengthen a relationship and act as foreplay?

“Perfect,” he mutters as he feels his balls tightening, especially as they snap forcefully against your ass. “You want a real present, baby?”

You cry out something between a gargled “yes” and a strangled whimper.

“Gonna give you one of your gifts early, baby girl. Ya ready for me? Ready to take my special gift to you?” he grunts, cock giving a valiant final twitch as the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

Toji allows your body to unfold, going limp and sated as he collapses next to you. He pulls you into his arms, warm breath ghosting over the hair that curls around your ear.

“Meant what I said,” he whispers after a beat. His fingers briefly dig into your arms as if out of fear that you’ll disappear.

“I…don’t always express myself well, and you deserve more than I know how to give, but I’m glad I can give parts of myself to you, among other things.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his arousal-slick length as he nuzzles into your neck.

You shake your head in disbelief at his virility, but you still stroke his quickly hardening member. “You express yourself just fine, Toji,”

His hand finds purchase on your ass as he brings you closer to his side, a satisfied sigh escaping his kiss-swollen lips. “Naw, I think you’ve always just been able to read me really well.”

“Yeah?” A harsh squeeze from your hand causes him to buck his hips, a vocal groan ripping from his throat.

“Yeah. Fuck, do that again.”

You offer another grip of your hand, this time slowing your strokes deliberately as you watch his head fall back. “Like this?” You whisper sweetly into his ear.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, his hips bucking upward. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face at the sight of Toji Fushiguro trying to fuck your fist into another orgasm.

“Maybe I’m not the only needy one,” you tease. Toji tilts his head towards yours, eyes half-lidded, “Shut up. We still have a few more days until Christmas, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

You let out a small giggle as you continue to stroke him, watching the way his breath hitches more often, indicating how worked up you’re getting him.

He puts one arm behind his head, reclining back, his other fist still kneading your ass as his eyes begin to close.

“Keep your eyes on the way I stroke your cock, Toji Bear. Or else I’ll stop.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” his large hand envelopes yours to keep it in place, but even with that effort, you stop pumping. He lets out a frustrated growl, sitting himself up on his elbows as he watches your strokes continue up and down his cock.

As he watches you work him over, you can’t help but notice the way his eyelids flutter and his breathing grows more labored. “See? Doesn’t it make more sense for you to watch, pervert?”

You rub your thumb across the underside of his cock, knowing how sensitive that particular spot is as you stroke him faster. Precum beads at the tip and bubbles down his shaft in droves.

“G-gonna get you for calling me that.” Toji lets out a guttural moan as white, hot cum leaks from his cock in a stream that is far less copious, but still impressive, due to his previous orgasm. You watch as it coats your hand, marveling as it cools against your heated skin.

Despite his early warning—which lacks any real consequence, he moves his face to yours and kisses you, deep, slow, and not like this might be your final kiss. And you kiss him as if with reassurance that he’s right—because he is—there will be far more kisses to come from now, until the end of the year and certainly beyond.

#jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #jjk toji #toji smut #toji zenin #toji x you #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader

135 notes · View notes

inuyashaluver · 11 months ago

Note

Hello Bestie could you maybe write a Christmas fic with Maya or Leah?? Where player and reader are Christmas tree shopping and they end up kissing under a mistletoe

sneaky - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend go christmas tree shopping, you oblivious to her little plan in store for you

warnings: pure fluff, not even close to christmas but still cute, swearing

a/n: this is so cute are we kidding, do you know how hard it was for me to chose, i was dying lmao, enjoy bestie! ❤️ not me writing WAY past christmas

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, leah had alternative feelings towards christmas. you didn’t really mind it, whereas leah thought christmas was the best part of the year.

though, as the time progressed, you’d grown a love for christmas because of what it meant to leah, her happy smile the greatest gift of all.

over the four years that you and leah had been dating, you’d spent each christmas together, leah made it her personal mission to make your shared home a winter wonderland.

—

it was november 31st and you were both lying on the couch, the blonde resting comfortably on your body as you lay flat. her hands are planted under your back, buried into the warmth of your (her) hoodie as you both watch a movie.

her hands gently roam your warm skin as you both giggle along with the movie. when she hears you laugh, she looks up at you in adoration, taking in every little detail she could before you caught her. you were beautiful and she couldn’t take her eyes off you.

when you looked down slightly to investigate why leah had gone so quiet all of a sudden, you were shocked to see your girlfriend looking at you with a lovesick expression that made your heart beat rapidly. “hello” you breathe out with a little laugh.

she smiles bashfully when you make eye contact, moving to hide her face on your chest as you giggle at her affectionately.

you place a hand through her hair and she melts into you instantly, humming at the contact before placing gentle kisses on the base of neck.

after she avoids your gaze for about two minutes, she can’t help but look at you again, this time you were already looking at her and her breath caught in the back of her throat. you looked at her with so much love, she honestly couldn’t believe it.

“you’re so pretty” you whisper, leah shakes her head at you amusingly and moves up a little to be face to face, “you’re beautiful, my girl” each word brushes your lips as she smiles down at you.

she closes the gap between you to seal your lips in a kiss. it was tender, gentle and full of so much mutual adoration, it was sickeningly sweet.

that’s when you were broken apart by leah’s phone buzzing with an alarm. she excitedly gasps and kisses your lips repeatedly, relishing in the sounds of your melodious giggles that made her heart soar.

“it’s 12 o’clock” she gushed, moving to turn the alarm off before moving to kiss you again. you gasp against her lips as she deepens the kiss before she abruptly pulls away to hover over you, “do you know why i’m excited it’s 12 o’clock, baby?”

you shake your head at the girl’s words and she rolls her eyes, “for sleep?” you smile, training had kicked your ass today, mainly because leah was marking you the whole time.

“no, it’s december 1st!” she exclaims, kissing the tip of your nose with a bright grin. you knew what this meant and it made you smile.

“christmas shopping” you point out, making leah smile at you proudly. she appreciated how much you let her share the love of her favourite holiday.

she nods at you excitedly and squeezes you into an embrace, kissing your cheek before hoisting you up, carrying you towards the bedroom so you two could sleep before surely a stressful time for you and a happy time for leah.

—

you had woken up first for the day and had to pry yourself out of the warm embrace of your girlfriend to get up out of bed.

leah shortly after you woke up with a slight scowl at you not being in her arms when her eyes opened, making her pad around the house to search for you to see you bundled up on the couch scrolling on your phone.

“traitor” she grumbles, glaring at you slightly as you look up at her with a bright smile. “good morning, baby” you cheese out, she can’t help but smile a little and trudges over to you, planting her body on top of you as she sinks into your embrace. “good morning” she mumbles into the skin of your neck.

“someone’s not as excited as i thought she’d be, on the 1st of december too,” you tease, making the blonde shoot up in remembrance, “shit! i forgot!” her eyes are wide as she looks at you, quickly transforming into a look of excitement as she remembered what you’d be doing today.

“what are we waiting for? get up! get up!” leah ushers, dragging you off the couch and ignoring your protests of being cold as you both make it back to the bedroom.

you smile in amusement as leah sits you on the bed to pick out your clothes for the day, giving a satisfied smile as she holds the clothes up to your body.

she grins and gives you a quick kiss before forcing you to get changed. she rushes to get ready herself, running back to the living room to wait for you. not forgetting to complain that you were taking too long.

by the time you’d both made it into the car, leah’s hand would squeeze your thigh every couple of minutes to express her eagerness.

you’d both shopped for decorations and gifts for what felt like days but you wouldn’t utter a complaint at all, leah was so extremely happy despite it being such a stressful time that it eased your worries instantly.

you were happy to follow her like a lost puppy as she showed you a bunch of different items with a bright smile, agreeing with her instantly without a second thought.

it had reached later in the day, it was dark and was now the time where you and leah would go and get a tree after dropping all of your other items at home.

leah insisted you both needed to get a real tree for christmas every year because that’s what she was taught to do and you were happy to oblige.

when you both make it to the tree stall, leah rushes to open your door and laces your fingers excitedly as she pulls you along the hundreds of trees lined up to chose from.

though, what you didn’t notice was that leah was taking you along a specific path, you were unaware that she had spotted a mistletoe towards the far right of the area when you first entered and made it her mission to get you there and steal a kiss.

her cheeky smirk didn’t go unmissed by you as you both walked along looking at the trees and the pretty lights. “what are you up to?” you narrow your eyes at her as she tries to stifle a giggle when you were nearing the area where the mistletoe was.

“nothing, baby” she smiles down at you, kissing your cheek before dragging you off again.

you’d looked at so many trees, you were surprised leah hadn’t picked one yet as she’s usually quite quick. “you don’t like any of these?” you question, leah shakes her head at looks at you with a grin,

“the best ones are usually at the end” she shrugs, both of you walking, chatting and giggling. it was truly a wholesome experience for the two of you, something so sacred and special that you would treasure forever.

by the time you reached the last row, leah visibly perks up and increases her speed. you struggle to catch up with her excited steps before she suddenly stops and faces you.

she takes both of your hands in hers and gives them a gentle squeeze, smiling at you lovingly. “hi” leah smiles cheekily, pulling you forward slightly. “hi” you breathe out, looking at leah sheepishly.

“you look so beautiful” leah says in awe, pulling you closer again. you could tell she was up to something, by her cheeky smile and the way she kept pulling you closer every time she spoke but you weren’t complaining.

“you look very beautiful” you smile, “you also look sneaky, what’s going on?” she laughs at your words and shakes her head amusingly, you both knew when the other was up to something.

“hm” she hums with a laugh, her eyes flickering upward with a smirk. you follow her gaze and that’s when you see it, a mistletoe hung directly over you two. you keep your eyes on it and laugh, looking back at leah with a big smile.

you both giggle when you make eye contact and leah places her hands on your hips, pulling you closer until you were pressed up against each other gently. your arms instinctively wrap around her neck as you smiled at each other.

“mistletoe, huh? knew you were up to something” you smirk, leah chuckles and nods, “who are we to deny the rules of the mistletoe, baby?” leah scoffs, you nod and ghost your lips over hers. she bumps her nose with yours and you both giggle again before she closes the gap between the two of you.

it starts off soft and gentle before you take initiative and deepen it, carding a hand through her hair and gently grazing your nails on her scalp, prompting her to squeeze your hips in appreciation.

she quickly dominates the kiss as you both whine into each other’s mouths. when you both pull away absolutely breathless, she rests her forehead on yours, your breaths mingling as you smile with each other.

you pull away slightly to make eye contact, “you know, we’re still under the mistletoe” you whisper, she laughs brightly at you and smiles with a nod, “mhm, we are” she looks up at it for a moment before looking back down at you,

“who are we to deny the rules of the mistletoe? huh, leah baby?” you quip, leah nods gently before pulling you into another breathless kiss, lasting a couple of seconds before pulling away.

“the tree?” you smirk, leah nods before grabbing your hand again, lacing them together as you walked. “i already know what tree i want” leah chuckles, taking you to the very first row of trees, pointing out the third one.

you can’t help but laugh brightly, you knew her too well, of course she set her heart on one of the first trees she saw but dragged you all the way to the mistletoe.

—

you both get home and set up the tree, decorating it together under leah’s very careful and specific instructions. the house is warm and full of love, fairy lights providing light as you both laugh and chat while decorating.

once done, you both pull away satisfied, leah tucking you into her side as you both look at the decorated tree.

“it might be our best tree yet, my girl” leah chuckles, kissing your temple as you lean into her. “why? because you dragged me around 10 different isles of trees just to kiss me and then took me all the way back to pick this one?” you recount cheekily, leah nods with a giggle.

“exactly” she grins, “not like you were complaining” leah bumps your hip with hers and you laugh, leaning up to kiss her cheek, making a light pink dust the skin there.

“no, i’m not, in fact..” you start, pulling out a small mistletoe from your pocket to hold it up over your heads. leah raises her eyebrows before she throws her head back in a laugh, “well, who are we to deny the rules?” she smirks, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you in a searing kiss, your hands dropping the mistletoe in the purpose.

it was a good christmas already.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by liawaelti and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: me and my girl put up the christmas tree, favourite time of the year!

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yourname: leah did the whole thing

↳ leahwilliamsonn: baby! no, we did it together!

↳ yourname: leah, my love, you told me where to put each and every ornament, i don’t know if it counts

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you still put it on with your pretty hands

↳ yourname: mhm

↳ leahwilliamsonn: meet me under the mistletoe in 5 minutes?

↳ yourname: sold

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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prolix-yuy · 18 days ago

Text

Ah, but it's cold outside

Pairing: Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Summary: If you could throw Pero Tovar out of your bed and breakfast you would, but something more than your constant bickering keeps him darkening your door.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, fingering, PiV sex, consenting unprotected sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming inside, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), Pero Tovar is Uncircumcised, pain kink, exhibitionism, slight degradation kink, enemies to lovers as self-actualization? We love to see it.

Notes: Happy Holidays @221bshrlocked! I am your not-so-Secret Santa for @pedrostories Secret Santa event! I love love LOVED your prompts and had to give you as many as I could possibly jam into one fic. Plus it's been a while since I've written Pero and I need that grumpy man to get his ass handed to him every now and then. I hope you enjoy!

With the wind howling outside and the lights flickering dangerously, the last person you want to see on your front steps is Pero Tovar. But you barely have time to register the dark-haired pain in your ass before he’s pushing past you and into the warm haven of your bed and breakfast.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another week,” you call over your shoulder, closing the door against the freezing air. Even when the latch clicks the force of the gusts still rattles the door.

“I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome,” he huffs, swatting snow off his wool jacket to puddle on the floor. Rolling your eyes, you stalk into the kitchen for towels.

“It’s late, what do you want?” you call from the other room, unable to stop yourself from twisting your mouth into a pretty fair imitation of Pero’s scowl. You’d just turned off all the lights, only the twinkling glows of Christmas decorations still lighting the main floor.

“The road’s snowed out, I can’t see shit. I debated on whether it would be easier on my nerves to keep going or stop here.” He waves at your exasperated face when he catches the towel you toss. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The telltale frustration rises in your throat, and you swallow it down. “I don’t have any rooms, everyone’s hiding out from the storm.” Busying yourself with the late-night tasks you know by heart, Pero thumps along behind you.

“Believe me, I would rather be in my own bed than your ‘charming’ ones, but I am out of options. Anything. A couch. It’s too cold to sleep in the truck.”

There it is again, that seething annoyance climbing up your spine. You take in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before gesturing at the common room.

“The couch is the best I can do.”

Before you’re done speaking he’s striding in, shucking off his jacket to drape over a chair before kneeling by the dying fire. You’re about to scold him for kicking it back to life but if the power does fail the heat will be welcome.

“I have to finish closing up, yell if you need something,” you add, his dismissive wave meeting your mocking wave back. The scrunch in your shoulders eases partway through the mess of dishes you’re washing, thankful that the silence of late nights is still yours even with the eerie howls and creaks of the storm surrounding you.

Yours and Pero’s relationship was barely that, if anyone asked. When he first came to town you were elated that a carpenter-handyman type was finally local. You had so many projects half-finished or begging to start in your bed and breakfast, a cozy Tudor-style house you bought at the peak of another career crisis. Thankfully this choice was a revelation, even with the tremendous undertaking. The pipes were of indeterminate age and prone to cracks, the noise of the radiators a heart-pounding alarm clock. The unpleasant odors of past smokers and bad cooks hung heavy everywhere you turned, but paint and YouTube videos and determination brought it up to a standard you were proud of. However, you didn’t want to know what electrocution feels like, or be chummy with the scent of carbon monoxide, so after a proper number of niceties and crossed paths you invited Pero over.

The first day he darkened your door, you felt something wildly different than his entrance this evening. He was dark haired, roguish in an unfamiliar way. Simply dressed in jeans and a canvas jacket over a black t-shirt, his frame tugged against mouthwatering places you tried not to stare at. He was polite, wiping his feet at the door and setting his toolbox down gently. His accented voice was deep, sonorous, goddamn sexy. You had to focus on showing him the finicky electrical box and the concerning gas hookup in the kitchen to stop your mind from wandering to steamy romance novel plots.

Then he started speaking, and it all went to hell.

“You should take down the curtains too,” he hummed, the cadence almost masking the disdain before your brain snapped to attention.

“The…curtains? Are they a fire hazard?”

“No, they are ugly.”

Heat flooded your face, your teeth clacking together as you whipped to look at Pero. His face is the picture of disgust, and when he meets your eyes there isn’t a hint of embarrassment in them. “Did they come with the place?”

“No, they fit the aesthetic.”

“This is an aesthetic?”

You raised your eyebrows, hands on your hips but he didn’t back down one bit. He kept talking.

“I thought the furniture was from the previous owner. Cheaper, you know. You like it?” He looks around as if someone would back him up, but you just fold your arms.

“People don’t come to a bed and breakfast because it’s modern, they come because it’s quaint and charming and…”

“...cheaper than the Marriott…”

“And how would you do it then? Design the space for me, oh wise one.”

“Not how my grandmother would do it.”

Pero did not get your business that day.

Embarrassingly enough, he did get it three weeks later when your gas line started leaking. He critiqued how many mouse droppings were behind the stove and recommended an exterminator. You almost threw him out.

So if anyone asks, you and Pero do not have a relationship. You have a business agreement, at best. A begrudging one. He comes when you call - not quickly, of course, and it feels like a personal slight even when he insists he has many clients - and you pay him after haggling over the cost of the pipe or how long he actually worked for (he has a tendency to charge for his hour-long lunch breaks). He makes his snide little comments and you spit a retort back, and sometimes you swear you catch him smirking to himself after you deliver something especially sharp.

As you dry your hands, you dwell maybe a few minutes too long on this. You’d never admit it in earshot of his big head, but there’s something incredibly freeing about talking to Pero. Sure, he criticizes and complains about anything he comes within five feet of, but he’s never cruel to you. He never speaks down to you, or makes you feel inferior because you don’t know something. Most of the time he explains what he’s doing so you can do it yourself, with only a few jabs thrown in for flavor. No contractor has ever treated you as capable before. Most try to talk over your or around the topic, and you have to smile and gently redirect them to understand that yes, you are aware of what an impact driver is and no, you think drywall screws would be overkill to reattach that molding. You’d rather snark at Pero all day then have one of those pillow-scream-worthy conversations again.

Shaking off the retrospection, you take a plate of leftover roast chicken and potatoes into the common room. Pero, as you expected, has stoked the fire into an almost concerning blaze but the warmth is welcome. He’s settling back into the well-worn couch and scrolling on his phone as you plop the plate on his lap. Your knuckles graze the top of his thigh when you withdraw, a nervous tingle dancing through your stomach.

What the hell was that about? It’s Pero, for fuck’s sake.

“Eat,” you order, rounding the couch to drop into the open space. If there’s one order Pero will never argue about it’s to eat, which he does with gusto and a nod in your direction. The crackle of the fire covers the ravenous chewing - even barely hungry he eats like a man starved - as you let your body relax into the cushions. All the guests are tucked away, breakfast is prepped and ready, and the silence is welcome. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived.

“I did not think you would be fully booked. I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by.”

It’s too late and you’re too tired to deal with this bullshit right now. You press the heels of your hands to your eyes.

“And why would you think that Pero? Because somehow I could never run a business this well?”

“That’s not…”

“Or am I not paying you enough? Are we about to have a heart to heart over hourly rates?”

“I am not…”

“Then fucking out with it then! If you hate being here, being around me so much, then just tell me why so I can stop trying to give a shit about it.”

The silence that follows pulls your hands from your eyes, and where you thought Pero would be glaring at you he’s…confused. Which is…also confusing.

“I thought this was fun,” he says, voice softening to a rumble that loses its edges in the fire. “The, you know, the back and forth.” He studies his hands, blunt thumbnail dragging along a knuckle. “Most people defer to me because I’m…” Gesturing at himself, what could be a brag instead is dripping with annoyance. “The men pretend to be in league with me, and the women laugh at everything I say. It’s so…boring.”

You’re frozen in place, brows knit as you let him speak, a tingle rising up the back of your neck and flooding your fingertips.

“Any bullshit that entertains me, I can do with them. But not with you.” He can’t meet your eyes, instead staring into the fire that paints the planes of his face in luscious amber. “You never let me get away with shit. I like that. I thought you liked that too. You always seemed to get…brighter when we were…” His hands come up and make little quibbling mouths, finally looking at you.

Have you ever seen his gaze so bare before?

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.”

Inside your body, a mounting wave of understanding and excitement fills your limbs. No one has ever praised your fire, your brightness, only wanting to tamp it down into something manageable and palatable. Now before you is a man who not only revels in it, but encourages it? You’ve never felt this thrum of excitement before, like holding a tuning fork against your sternum.

“You did,” you say, the strength of your voice surprising. Rising to stand, Pero’s chin tilts, a supplicant before you. “Because if you had given me even an inkling of an idea that this was foreplay, I wouldn’t have held back.”

Much like your own revelation, you can see your words change Pero. His brow smooths before arching in tandem with his growing smirk. Hands coming down to grasp the seat cushion, his veins bulge against the creak of upholstery. He tilts his chin to you with shrinking obedience.

“Then I am very interested in seeing you at your worst.”

The words drive you to clench. This is dangerous new territory, but nothing could hold you back from striding headfirst into it. Two swaying steps place you in front of Pero, his knees widening to stand between. The new angle makes him lean back, exposing the tantalizing length of his neck dotted with delicate freckles.

“I don’t know, Pero, you may not deserve that honor.” A giggle rises in your throat, letting yourself enjoy your new-found freedom. Saying exactly what’s on your mind without the nagging fear of being too much. By Pero’s expression, he’s enjoying it too. You wind up another retort, but his next words steal your breath.

“Are you wet right now?” he says, tongue slipping out to lick at his lower lip. The crude statement slams heat into your face, and suddenly your hand is in the air and headed for Pero’s stubbly cheek.

“Ah!” he scolds, catching your wrist firmly before you make contact. Your brain barely has time to register you were going to smack him! when he yanks you closer, catching yourself on the back of the couch.

“I knew you were sharp in many more ways,” he gloats, and you can’t decide if you want to try wiping that smirk off his face with your palm or your mouth. “I’ll ask again - are you wet right now?”

This is the precipice of desire and level thinking, your toes on the edge. Strong voices shout that this is crazy, foolish, ill-advised. You feel too good to pay them mind.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Hunger roars in Pero’s eyes but his movements are slow, steady as he helps you straighten to standing. The fire licks at your back, but his hands finding the waist of your jeans are scorching. Eyes flick up to you as he pops the button loose, thick fingers grasping the small zip to open it tooth by tooth. The challenge is to let him take his time, and you’re up for it. By the generous tenting in his pants he’s affected too.

“What will I find if I take these off? Pretty little panties? Something lace? Nothing at all?” he husks, toying with the plaquet as he purposefully doesn’t look.

“I think my previous answer still stands,” you retort, and your boldness earns you a rakish smile while Pero rolls your jeans down. The darkness of night shrouds your form, but anyone stumbling in could find you like this. Something tells you Pero likes it better that way.

“Perfect,” he whispers, and his hot breath ghosting over your mound raises goosebumps.

“At this rate it’ll be morning before…” you tease, lips forming around a smile, but that morphs into a choked exhale when Pero deftly pulls aside your panties and slides his thumb over your clit. Your hands come to his shoulders, digging in as he traces an experimental circle.

“I knew you were dripping,” Pero purrs, and words fail as two fingers slide through your folds to press at your entrance. “I want to fuck you on my fingers, is that amenable to the lady?”

Staccato laughter punctuates your “yes” before he presses in, those hands you’d marveled at fitting into the hot clutch of your cunt just shy of painful. Then he curls them and you can’t stop the high-pitched whine that whistles out.

“Just needed something to scratch that itch, hm? Needed a little finger fucking to relax?” he says, and even with your body responding beautifully to his slick rhythm you can’t let that go. One hand twists into his hair, wrapping locks around your fingers before squeezing.

Like an electric shock Pero’s body locks up, mouth falling open and his hips undulating more than you expected. You tut at him, superiority flooding your brain even as your pussy drenches his hand.

“Tattling on yourself, Pero. Let your mouth run just a little and I’ll learn all your secrets.” His fingers redouble their efforts, thumb sliding over your clit as he coaxes your orgasm to the surface, but now his head is in your hands, nails digging into his scalp as he fights against succumbing to the pricks of pain.

“Devil woman,” he hisses with no fire. “Tell me what you want - fuck, you’re so fucking wet - tell me what you want to make you cum.”

Your mind races with possibilities - your slick smeared on Pero’s beard, his hands wrapped around your headboard, what his lips would feel like - but the mounting need in your chest is to be filled.

“I want to fuck you. Right here.”

Pero curses colorfully, fumbling at his belt. You ease his hand from your pussy, the ache of the loss a yawning chasm but he needs both to yank off his jeans and boxers. Pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, you’re nude and silhouetted by the dying fire. Pero is struggling with his shirt when he glances up at you, stunned into stillness.

“Mierda,” he whispers. It’s said like a prayer, and at this moment you know why worship is addictive. Pero’s reverent gaze is a stronger aphrodisiac than any oyster could hope to be. He comes back to himself enough to yank the shirt over his head, revealing dark chest hair leading down to a healthy mess of curls surrounding his flushing cock. He fists it, sliding the foreskin down to reveal the deep purpling head slick with precum. Cocking your hip, you fake a loud sigh.

“Fine, I guess you have a big enough dick to act the way you do,” you observe, diffusing the weighty moment enough for Pero to scoff and smile. It’s new on his face, his scowl so everpresent, that you bask in it briefly.

“Come sit on my lap,” he implores, reaching out to take your hand. After all the sparring, the gentleness puts you off-kilter, unused to being allowed both.

“What are you, Santa?” you ask, straddling him and settling on his thighs as he rolls his eyes.

“Are you trying to make me lose this? Is it a little too intimidating for all your big talk?” Pero teases, stroking his definitely still very hard cock before tapping the head against your mound.

“Don’t worry, I know how to get it back if you do,” you quip, dragging your fingernails lightly down his chest before he can retort. He reacts exactly how you’d hoped, muscles clenching and a bead of precum dribbling from his tip. “Do you like it when I make it hurt just a little bit?”

“Yes,” he groans, unashamed, unselfconscious, and your cunt throbs. “You can make it hurt more,” he says, eyes widening suddenly as you see him realize he said that out loud. Sliding closer to hover over his proud cock, you take another sweat-damp handful of hair and squeeze. His groans are growing in volume but you can’t bring yourself to care. You can blame it on the storm in the morning.

“I’ll let you have anything you want if you’re a good boy for me.”

The whine he’s clearly embarrassed to have let out is cut off by a sudden inhale.

“Wait,” he gasps, hands digging into your hips to hold you above his cock. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” you interject, “and I haven’t slept with anyone in…like, eight months.”

Pero’s hands knead into your flesh, eyes searching your face.

“I’ll pull out.”

You don’t even think about it.

“Don’t you dare.”

If what you saw was hunger before, what’s in Pero’s expression now is ravenous. His lips curl back into a snarl, eyes deep and dark. Suddenly his fingers are inside you, scissoring you open roughly as you pant into his ear.

“Tell me to slow down,” he growls, but you shake your head. “Tell me…when I need to.”

“I need you, Pero, please, now.”

No longer holding you still, Pero’s hands guide you down onto his cock. The moment his head breaches a whole body shiver races through.

“Are you…”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He fills you until he’s in your guts, your lungs, surrounding you with his arms and his thighs below. The splay of his hands on your back makes you dizzy, head buzzy with hormones and his musk and every place he’s touching you in a symphony of pleasure. Faintly you realize he’s saying something, lips moving against your shoulder.

“Pero?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A few drops of clarity sharpen the mush in your brain.

“You’re inside of me and we forgot to kiss.”

Pero’s chest hitches once, then again, then the both of you are moving out of sync as hiccupy laughter overtakes you. He pants when you clench around him, trying to catch his breath until you both come back to your senses.

“I was enjoying what you were saying too much,” he admits, leaning back against the couch. His face is shadowed but you catch the glint of his eyes, the wetness of his plush lips. How had you resisted them this long?

Pero beats you to initiate, pulling you down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and chaste, his hands cupping your head as you part. But you beat him to return the kiss, pressing him into the couch with a deeper kiss, barely waiting for him to react before urging his lips open. He hums greedily into your mouth, letting you explore with your tongue before he fills you with his. It’s not long before his mouth is frantic, gripping your hips as he makes an experimental thrust into your cunt that breaks your lips apart.

“Pero, fuck,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as he thrusts up deep and smooth. You meet his pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit against him. Fighting for dominance, you finally push him back and ride him in earnest, lifting up over and over again to slam his cock into your cunt. He’s mesmerized by how your tits bounce, taking one in his palm to knead to tease your nipple as your orgasm creeps up your spine.

“Fuck, Pero, you feel so good,” you moan, slowing to grind down, the friction of his pubic hair on your clit giving you the edge to pull your climax close.

“You feel amazing on my cock. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you pant, using every inch of Pero to find that moment of bliss. “Fuck, yes Pero, I want to cum on you. Want to feel you inside.” It’s right there, you’re at the brink of tipping over.

“Fuck, yes, oh fuck, say my name like that. Say it when you’re cumming.”

Your nerves sing and your body pulses to the beat of Pero, Pero, Pero rasping from your lips. He’s growling something you wish you could understand but the blood is pumping too loudly in your ears. The only thing you register is the couch against your back as Pero flips you. He’s pressed long against your body, hips snapping into your cunt even as you’re so tight around him.

“...beautiful, you’re so beautiful, can’t stop…” you faintly hear as the sensations of Pero’s hands roaming your body, his humid mouth at your neck, and the wet slap of his cock bring you back to your body. His thrusts are becoming erratic, right on the cusp of his own orgasm, when you dig your nails into his back and rake them down his spine.

Pero’s orgasmic bellow is muffled in your neck as the throb of his cock empties inside you. You offer little scratches up and down his arms and shoulders as he comes down, hips pressing in deeper as he lets out satisfied groans. Finally he slumps, head resting on your chest as he catches his breath.

The silence is back, the dimming fire combating the dark. This was by far the best fuck you’d had in ages, and in no small part due to the freedom to just be. But when the sun rises - hell, when the post-orgasmic haze lifts - what will this even look like?

Pero sighs and lifts up on his hands, easing his cock out before softly swearing and grabbing his shirt to wipe away the cum dripping out of you.

“I might recommend getting this couch cleaned,” he muses, sitting up on his knees to look down at your loose-limbed body with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t think we’re the first ones to do that on this particular piece of furniture,” you joke, enjoying the wrinkle of disgust on Pero’s face.

“Then I definitely recommend a shower. And request a bedsheet.”

The statement is unassuming in a way that you needed. Yes, this is new and strange, but you’ve always embraced both.

“You know, there is still one bed left in this bed and breakfast.”

Pero’s head perks up.

“The only problem is that it’s mine.”

A roguish smile dimples Pero’s cheek as he hovers over you.

“And what must I do to share it with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

END

"I ought to say, "No, no, no sir" Mind if I move in closer? At least I'm gonna say that I tried What's the sense in hurting my pride? I really can't stay Baby, don't hold out Baby, it's cold outside."

#pedrostoriesgift24 #pedrostories #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #modern!pero tovar x reader #modern!pero tovar x you #prolix fics

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absurdthirst · 7 months ago

Text

Greased Lightning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Santiago Garcia}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 13.1k

Warnings: Financial difficulties, technical prostitution, sex for services, propositioning, threesomes, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), dirty talk, degradation, anal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, cum play, explicit photos

Comments: Broken down and in need of a mechanic, you call Triple Frontier Repair. Finding out that the repairs are more expensive than you can afford, the men have an idea on how you can compensate them.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Shit.” You hiss when you hear the engine of your piece of shit car start knocking and the dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this.” You whine when the acceleration of the car suddenly depletes and you are obviously going to be moving off the road to the shoulder. Bucking slightly as you try to coax it a little farther so you can safely get off and you feel like crying. You’re in a bind financially and you can’t afford pricey car repairs. If you don’t have a car, you can’t go to work and if you can’t go to work, you won’t have a job. You slap the steering wheel and sigh, knowing that you will need to get the car towed. After cursing your bad luck, you open your phone and google the closest mechanics shop that has a towing service. Hopefully they will be able to fix it for cheap.

“Frontier Repair Shop.” Santi answers the phone, about to leave early but your voice sounds distressed.

“I need a tow and my car - it just stopped and I don’t know what happened.” You try not to cry down the phone and Santi sighs, knowing his mama would kick his ass if she knew he’d left a woman on the side of the road. He asks you for the mile marker you’re near and knows where you are.

“Fish, I’ll be back in a bit.” He promises to his partner, heading out to the tow truck to go and get your vehicle.

When the truck arrives, you almost cry with relief but compose yourself, knowing that this won’t be an easy or cheap fix. When the mechanic gets out of the truck, your mouth falls slightly. “You need a tow?” He asks and you nod, dumbstruck by the handsome man and you almost forget about the issue at hand.

His brows furrow when he slips behind the wheel and sees the array of lights when he turns the key. “It’s good that you turned it off.” He compliments and jams the brake to shift the car into neutral. He’s already put the chains on the frame and just needs to hoist it up onto the flatbed.

“I just….was driving along and it went haywire.” You worry, biting your lip. “It’s gonna be expensive, isn’t it?” You can’t afford this, you are already destined to spend the rest of your rare day off in a mechanic’s shop.

“Won’t know until we get it back to the shop.” Santi tells you, noting how pretty you are, even though you’re obviously distressed. “Don’t worry though, me and Fish are the best mechanics around. We’ll get you back on the road.” He promises before shutting the door. “You need a ride to the shop with me, or do you have someone coming?’

“I need a ride. I don’t have anyone coming to pick me up and I need to get this fixed today. I have to work tomorrow and I don’t have any other way to get there.” You tell him and he nods, opening the passenger door for you to get in. It’s a little messy, coffee cups and wrappers litter the floor but you don’t care, too distracted by your bad luck.

“You from around here?” Santi asks as he starts the truck and makes his way back to the shop.

“No. Moved here years ago for college and didn’t go home.” You sigh.

Santi nods and concentrates on the road. “I get that.” He tells you. “Fish and I opened this shop when we got out of the Army. Just far enough away from the base we didn’t have to deal with that bullshit, but close enough we could go raise hell if we wanted.” He throws you a grin, thinking about the nights they would go bar hopping and get into some good, old fashioned trouble. Plus it was always fun to pick up the women there. “College, huh? What did you major in? I’ve been thinking about taking a few classes, using my G.I. bill.”

“It’s nothing exciting. I work in HR. Majored in Psych but didn’t get to put that degree to the test. But my student loans have been killing me since my rent was increased and I- sorry, you don’t wanna hear about my drama. How long were you in the army?” You ask, curious and trying to not notice the way his forearm muscles clench as he drives the truck.

Santiago snorts, glancing over at you and then back at the road. “Twenty years.” He admits, grinning ruefully. “Joined up when I was eighteen. Got out last year.” He shrugs. “Not too bad, but the retirement pay doesn’t go as far as it used to. And Fish and I were going stir crazy. Running ops wasn’t feasible, so we decided to start turning wrenches.”

“Fish?” You ask and he nods, “my partner. His name is Frankie but we had nicknames in our team in the army. His was Catfish and mine was Pope- is Pope.” He says and you frown, “where did Pope come from?” You ask and Santi smirks a little as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “Back in the day, the fellas would say that women knelt before me like Catholics kneel before the Pope.”

You fluster at the thought, unable to deny his claim. Women would still kneel before him now. “I appreciate you coming out to help me so fast.” You say as he turns into the lot for the shop.

“Never leave a pretty lady on the side of the road.” Pope hums, watching as he turns the big wrecker around and he throws it park before looking over at you. “If you go into the waiting area, we have mediocre coffee and bottled water.” He shrugs and winks. “Down the hall to the right is a little break room. Fish has some Cokes stashed in the fridge for people we like.” He winks at you and juts his chin towards the building. “Go relax, we’ll take care of you.”

You nod, grateful to him for being so kind, and you get out of the truck, adjusting your skirt as you make your way into the shop, walking past the open garage doors. Frankie is just wheeling out from under a Kia Soul when his eyes find your legs and trail up your form as you walk past. The bell rings as you open the door to the waiting area and Frankie whistles as Santi strides over. “Jesus, Pope. Where’d you find her?” He asks, smirking at his friend.

Pope grins and shrugs. “What can I say, women just flock to me.” He jokes, before pointing to the car that James is rolling off the flatbed. “She broke down on the side of the road. Needs it ASAP, but I can already tell it’s gonna be expensive.” He snorts. “I might have promised her that she would be driving home tonight.”

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, aware that his friend often makes outrageous promises to pretty women, mostly at the expense of Frankie’s time. “Fuck, Pope.” He grumbles. “Kia’s done, go write it up and I’ll get started on the car.”

Pope grins victoriously at his friend giving in to his whims when it comes to gorgeous women and he makes his way inside, calling out the owner of the Kia to give him the invoice and take his payment while Frankie backs the car out of the bay. “Thanks man. Always appreciate you guys fixing her up.” The guy says to Pope and shakes his hand. You watch as he exits the waiting room and figure he must be an army friend. You are anxious to find out how much this is gonna cost. You might have to ask him to fix it up enough to drive around without clunking out but you know you’d be back in the shop at a moment in the near future.

Under the hood of the car, Frankie is hissing a curse as he shoves his busted knuckle into his mouth. Not really minding the grease as he sucks at the broken skin. He was used to having greasy hands from the work he did, but he fucking hated whoever designed the engine compartment on this car. “Goddamn piece of shit.” He scowls when he pulls his hand away from his mouth and looks back down at the fuel injector. It’s shot to shit and he’s pretty sure that your head gasket is leaking. It won't be cheap, just like Pope predicted, but it can be fixed today. He sighs, wondering how you are going to react to the price tag that’s gonna be slapped on this repair.

You sip the mediocre coffee, staring at the tv that has Judge Judy reruns on and you fidget, wondering what the cost of your car repair is going to run you. You’re there a while, other customers leaving. The young college kid who is helping out has gone home and you sigh, looking down at your now cold coffee.

Coming into the office, Frankie wipes his hands on a rag and looks over at you before shuffling towards the break room. “Car’s fixed.” He tells you. “Let me wash the grease off my hands and I’ll get you ready to go. Pope’s just closing her up now.”

You look up and nod, standing up from the plastic chair that’s stuck to the back of your thighs and you toss the coffee cup, wondering if the criteria to work here is to be a ridiculously hot guy. You bite your lip and lean against the counter when he comes back with clean hands. “You, uh, you didn’t even give me a quote.” You frown and Frankie sighs, “honestly, the car is on its last legs. I’m stretching its life as much as possible but you gotta look at getting a new car, sweetheart.” He explains, “I did what I could.”

You sigh, nodding and knowing he’s right. “What’s the damage?” You ask, bracing yourself.

Frankie winces apologetically. “I’m only charging you for parts.” He promises. There had been more wrong with it than he had first realized and Pope had told him to fix it enough to make it safe. “$1600” he tells you, hating the way your eyes seem to bug out of your head. “I can show you the printout. I didn’t charge you for labor. Pope told me about your situation.”

“I- shit. I- I can’t - I don’t have that.” Your eyes start to water, “I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me so I - shit. I don’t have that kind of money.” You choke, unsure of what the hell you’re going to do.

The bell rings above the door and Pope walks in, “we got her fixed up for you.”

You shake your head, “yeah and I can’t afford to pay you because you guys didn’t consult me so it’s - I don’t know what to do.” You choke again.

Pope frowns and Frankie hisses. He had thought he had talked to you. “Pendejo.” He groans, throwing the towel in his hand at Pope.

“Sweetheart, that’s what we had to do to get her running.” He tells you. “You could easily sink another two or three grand in that car. She’s honestly barely road worthy.” Pope explains and Frankie shakes his head.

“Cabrón.” He huffs. “You should have talked to her.”

You shake your head, “I don’t - I’m barely making my rent. I don’t have $1600 to pay you. Shit. I- I’m so sorry. I don't know what to do or say. Oh God, this is - this is a nightmare.” You close your eyes, almost willing yourself to wake up.

“Don’t cry.” Frankie hates when a woman cries and you are too pretty to cry over something like this. You shouldn’t have to worry about things like this at all. “We can work something out.” He promises. “A payment plan. I’m not going to unfix your car. It’ll be alright.”

Your eyes open, “really? You’d do that- I - thank you.” You offer him a grateful look and Pope clicks his tongue.

“There’s another option too.” He says, his voice lowering as his eyes trail along your form. “I can give you a discount if you…if you let me fuck you.” He says, dragging his thumb along his lower lip as his eyes return to yours. You inhale sharply, knowing you should be slapping him for that but shit, you were attracted to him from the get go.

“Santiago.” Frankie warns him and Santi shakes his head, “or for free…if you let both of us fuck you.” He says and your eyes widen, flicking to Frankie whose eyes are wide but not shocked. It’s not a secret that both men are handsome, something from a woman produced porno and you should say no, arrange a payment plan, and leave, but getting your car fixed for free is tempting.

“Both of you? And the car is free?” You ask and Pope nods. You inhale deeply, taking another second before you nod, “where do you wanna do this?”

“Holy shit.” Frankie whispers, surprised that you are actually considering this. He won’t even deny that he’s hopeful that you will decide to fuck them both. He can write off the car parts and it’s been a long time since he’s fucked anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you.

“Right here, in the break room.” Santiago tells you. “We lock the doors, everyone’s gone home and Frankie and I both fuck you silly.” He chuckles. “We’ll even go wash up before you suck our cocks.” Frankie nods, not wanting you to think you’re gonna be subjected to unwashed dick.

You should leave. Say no and tell them to fuck off but it’s been a while since you had sex. You’ve never had a threesome. You wonder if they have done this before. They seem to be comfortable with each other. “Uh, sure. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up myself.” You say, “do you have protection?” You don’t know them and you want to be safe, even if this is the least safe thing you’ve ever done.

“Condoms.” Frankie nods, knowing that Pope keeps a stash of them in the desk drawer for dates after work. “We’re both clean too.” He promises. “VA tests us and Pope’s had sex since but I haven’t.” He admits, feeling a little embarrassed about that.

You exhale shakily, “I’m clean too. Tested at my last gyno appointment. Uh, can I use the bathroom?” You ask and the boys nod, gesturing to the bathroom down the hall. You walk down to it, feeling their eyes on you and you shut the door behind you. Leaning over the sink, you inhale deeply and hate that you feel the churn of arousal in your stomach. It’s hard to deny that the idea of sex with two sexy men doesn’t have you wet already and you know you should be ashamed, you should say no but you can’t.

When you disappear into the bathroom, Frankie whirls on Pope. “Did you fucking set this up?” He hisses, impressed and slightly disgusted by what they are about to do. It’s almost taking advantage of you, even though you’re agreeing. Pope smirks and winks at his friend. “You won’t be upset when her pretty little mouth is sucking your soul out through your cock.” He predicts, arching a brow as if to challenge him. “Not like we haven’t double teamed a girl before. Although now I know she’s clean, I wish you hadn’t told her about the condoms. We could have filled her tank too.” Frankie rolls his eyes at the bad joke but his cock twitches under the mechanics suit at the thought of to high you. His friend has known him for far too long because he grins and slaps his back. “There’s the Fish I know. Go wash your cock and balls.” He orders and Frankie shuffles off to the employee shower room.

You wash your face and freshen up elsewhere before heading back into the hall and your name is called from the break room that Pope told you about earlier. You follow his voice and enter the room, taking note of the ratty sofa and chair in the space, the fridge in the corner and the ancient tv in the corner to match the one in the waiting room. Frankie isn’t back yet so you set your purse down and Santi sits on the sofa. “Come take a seat, relax.” He says, “you can say no at any point. Say the word and we stop.” He promises and you believe him. You sit down next to him, knee bouncing and his large hand stops it with a slight chuckle. “Nervous?” He asks and you nod, eying the condoms on the small coffee table.

“Yeah. I haven’t done this before.” You confess, “threesome. Or sex in exchange for car parts.” You joke breathily and Santi chuckles. It dies down after a moment and he clears his throat, reaching up to cup your cheek. Your eyes burn into his and he leans closer, slowly pressing his lips against yours. The contact is soft and you don’t pull back, shyly kissing him back until the fire in your belly ignites and you grip his overalls, deepening the kiss until his tongue is sliding against yours.

Frankie comes back with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Deciding a full shower would be appropriate. It was a good thing to have in the shop and made it easy to get ready for a date after work. Or fucking a girl in exchange for getting her car fixed, like now. “Go bathe your ass, pendejo.” He huffs, watching as you pull away from Pope and fluster. “I’ll keep our girl entertained.” You’ve agreed to this, so he’s interested, imagining you while he was washing. His cock is already half hard under the towel and he smirks.

Your eyes take in the sight of the mechanic. It’s clear he’s middle aged, a slight stomach, but fuck if you don’t find that sexier than a six pack. The water droplets down his chest have you itching to lick his skin. Deciding to do just that, you stand up and walk over to him, leaning forward to run your tongue along his collarbone to gather the lingering droplets of water from his skin.

“Fuck.” Frankie groans, grabbing your waist and hissing at how good the first touch of you feels. He can hear Pope laugh as he walks out of the room but he’s too busy ducking his head down to press his lips to yours in a kiss that is more impatient and slightly rougher than his brother in arms.

His fingers dig into your waist and his lips press harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth, taken off guard by the fact that you’re enjoying this so far, and his tongue slides against yours. His hands slide down to your ass and he pulls you up against him, his hard cock pressing against your hip. You let him kiss you for another moment until you push him back and he frowns, worried that you’re upset and wanting to leave. He’d let you go but he’d be disappointed. You bite your lip and reach for the tuck of his towel, pulling on it until it falls and reveals his cock. “Shit.” You murmur and admire his thick length, twitching under your gaze and you seem to fall under a spell when you kneel down and wrap your fingers around him. Your tongue is peaking out to press against the leaking slit while your eyes focus on his.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses, taking off guard by the fact that you are almost eagerly getting on your knees for him. “Fuck- strip down.” He growls out. “I want to see your tits and I want your pussy to leak all over my floor.” His cock twitches in your hand, but he pulls his hips back and offers you a hand.

His words make you clench around nothing and you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bra. You push your shirt down and leave you in your underwear. “All of it, baby.” Frankie orders and you nod, undoing the clasp of your bra and you let the straps fall down your arms and expose your tits to the mechanic you barely know.

“Fuck, those are nice.” He groans, reaching out and cupping your tits while you hook your fingers into your panties. He squeezes them and then pinches your nipples and tugs on them. “You’re gonna suck my cock, right pretty girl?” He groans. “Get it all nice and wet to fuck you?”

Usually, dirty talk like that would make you cringe but coming from his mouth? Shit, it has you dripping. “Ye-yes. Gonna make sure you’re gonna be just right to fuck my little pussy.” You talk back just as dirty, thrilled by it when his cock jumps. You step out of your panties and Frankie groans, admiring you until you kneel down on the linoleum floor to wrap your fingers around his cock again.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, biting his lip as he looks down at you. “Do a good job and I’ll eat your pussy too.” Despite this being an arrangement so you don’t have to pay for your car being fixed, Frankie likes eating pussy and it’s been awhile since he’s had his head framed by a woman’s thighs. You moan quietly and nod before you lean forward and take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuuuck.” He hisses, chin dropping down to his chest as he watches you engulf his cock.

You close your eyes for a moment, wanting to compose yourself as the head of his cock presses against your throat and you inhale deeply through your nose just as Frankie says “eyes on me.” You open your eyes and look at him as you take him deeper, unaware that Pope is back and watching you and Frankie.

He sees Pope, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He knows the other man locked the building down and they were the only ones with the keys. Groaning when you swallow around him, his calloused and work rough hand caresses your cheek. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he coos. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. Is your little clit throbbing?” Pope smirks, aware that Frankie’s raspy voice manages to make women dripping wet when he talks dirty. Dropping his own towel and wrapping his hand around his hard cock to squeeze it as he walks closer. Keeping quiet until he is kneeling behind you and sliding his other hand between your thighs to touch your cunt while his cock presses against your ass. “Already soaked, Fish.” He moans in your year, kissing just below it. “I think she likes sucking your cock.”

You moan around Frankie’s cock, knowing you shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t like it this much, but you do. You work his cock deeper until you choke and saliva drips down your chin. You whimper when Pope rubs your clit and it’s been so long since someone else touched you, you grind down onto his hand while your fingers dig into Frankie’s ass to encourage him to rock his hips.

“Yeah she does.” Frankie grunts, moving his hand down so he can feel your throat work around him. It’s so sexy to see you on your knees, Pope behind you as he makes sure you’re ready to take both of them. “I say she swallows my load and I’ll eat her cunt like a good little girl while she sucks you off.”

Pope hums in agreement, kissing along your neck while his fingers work your clit. You whimper around Frankie's cock, nodding in pleasure and agreement. You can't believe how these two men have turned you into a wanton whore within moments but you desperately want to make them cum, to feel and see it.

Pope’s lips travel over your shoulders, up your neck. Kissing and licking, occasionally biting your skin as his fingers rub your clit. Eventually moving down and pressing two of his thick digits inside while twisting his wrist around to press his thumb back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. “She’s so tight, Fish.” He groans, loving how you clench around his fingers. “She’s gonna feel so good.”

You clench around his fingers, lost in the sensations of his mouth and his hand caressing you. You choke on Frankie's cock as he pushes deep again and your jaw is starting to ache a little but you push through, wanting him to cum down your throat.

Frankie hisses, and rocks his hips forward again. Spit and pre-cum slide down your jaw and he loves how your eyes fill with tears and yet you don’t try to wipe them away. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, “mouth like a fucking Hoover.” He can hear Pope’s fingers working in and out of your cunt over his grunts and the thick swallowing sounds and moaning around his cock. “Keep going, baby, want you to swallow my cum.”

You want it too. Your throat swallows around him and your teary eyes flick up to meet his as he pushes deep enough to slide down your throat, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nose and that's when he falls apart. You close your eyes when he starts to cum, walls fluttering around Pope's fingers as you struggle to swallow the spurts of cum from Fish and his groan echoes in the break room.

“Shit….shiiiiiiiit.” He hisses, eyes nearly crossing in pleasure, handing tightening around your jaw as you swallow him down. Spurts of his cum push out of the corners of your mouth and he rubs his thumb in it to massage it into your skin. “That’s it, good girl.”

You let him work himself dry and you swear you're dripping down Pope's wrist as you let Frankie use you until he is pulling his cock free of your mouth. He surges to lean down, pressing his lips against yours. Tongue pushing deep to taste himself on your tongue without care, and you whimper into his mouth.

Pope chuckles, biting down on your shoulder. “Frankie tastes good, sweetheart?” He asks as he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Let me have a taste.” He hums, not caring about tasting the other man’s spend. He’s done this before with him. Turning your head, he breaks the kiss with Frankie and captures your lips with his own as he pumps his finger inside you.

You clench around Pope’s fingers as kisses you without care about the taste in your mouth. That makes you realize they’ve done this before and it makes you moan into his mouth as his fingers curl inside of you. You need more. You break the kiss and murmur against his chin, “wanna taste you next.”

Frankie chuckles, his cock shrinking back down and hanging flaccidly, but Pope is rock hard against your ass. “We should move this to the sofa.” He suggests, reaching for your arm. “Santi can lean back and I’ll bury my face in your cunt.” He’s eager to taste you, to see how you respond to his tongue.

You nod and whine slightly as Santi removes his fingers from inside of you, and you let Frankie guide you to the sofa. “Kneel down, baby.” He demands and Santi sits on the end of the sofa, his cock hard and aching. You kiss his stomach that clenches before taking his cock in your hand and wrapping your fingers around him to guide him to your mouth.

Frankie groans, watching you take his friend’s cock into your mouth and he smirks. “She’s so fucking good, isn’t she?” He comments and Pope’s head bobbles in agreement. His own hands start to roam over your body, squeezing your ass and hips as he settles behind you and pulls your cheeks apart to get an up close look at your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.” He coos before leans in and buries his tongue inside your wet heat.

You gasp around Santi’s cock. You didn’t expect them to go down on you, thought it was all just dirty talk. You expected a couple of blowjobs, both of them fucking you until they came but you never anticipated them making you cum once. You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie ducks down so he can lick at your clit.

Frankie groans into your flesh, huffing when he can’t reach you like he wants to and he pulls away to flip onto his back. Sliding his head between your thighs and attacking your cunt from before, he lunges up latches onto your clit, wanting to hear you squeal. You’re sexy and you’re letting them fuck you so you should have just as much fun and pleasure as they do.

You cry out, letting Pope’s cock drop from your mouth as you feel the pleasure tingle up your spine and you moan Frankie’s name. “That’s it baby. Let Frankie eat that tight pussy.” Santi coos, caressing your cheek and you shift to take him back into your mouth.

He squeezes your ass and encourages you to drop your hips, wanting your weight on his face. Pope chuckles and caresses your spine. “You’re so fucking pretty, can’t wait to see what you look like riding his cock, my cock. Maybe we’ll stuff you full at the same time.” He doubts that, considering he would have just cum, but it’s a nice thought. “Didn’t we tell you that we would take care of you?”

You lower your hips, a little self conscious but he makes you grind down onto him and you whine around Pope’s cock, eager to please him now that you realize they are going to look after you. You moan when Frankie’s tongue slides through your folds and you sloppily suck on Pope’s cock.

The breakroom sounds obscene. The sounds of sucking and swallowing, moans and grunts filthily filling the air. Frankie moans as your cunt gushes, coating his tongue in a fresh wave arousal and he slurps it down greedily. Rocking your hips to make you ride his face as he licks up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart, Fish is in heaven. His tongue buried in your sweet pussy. I bet he’s already getting hard thinking about fucking you.” Pope coos. “And after he gets done making you scream, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll see stars.”

You swear you can hardly breathe as his filthy words make your pussy clench and you can’t handle it. You want these men. That’s become clear. You rock back onto Fish’s face, back arching as you try to take Pope’s cock deeper but he’s longer than Frankie, not as thick. You choke and saliva drips from your mouth as you try your best to make this blowjob one of the best he’s gotten.

“That’s it sweetheart.” Pope groans, “take it all. Fish, I swear I’m in fuckin’ love with her mouth.” He hisses, talking to Frankie underneath you. Fish grunts his agreement into your folds and is thankful that he had washed his hands, scrubbing them in the shower as he pushes two fingers inside you for you to clench around when you cum. “Cum for Frankie, sweetheart, soak his face.”

You groan, rocking back onto Frankie’s face and you’re so close. So fucking close. His lips suck on your clit as his fingers curl inside of you. You moan around his cock as you cum, clamping down on Frankie’s fingers as he makes you orgasm.

Frankie’s spent cock twitches and he starts to harden again. Loving how you are soaking his face as he sucks on your clit. Your hips grinding down on his face and he moans happily. Working you through the orgasm with singular determination.

You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie works you through it and you want Pope to cum too. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing him, and you hollow your cheeks, wanting him to spill down your throat.

It takes a long moment before Frankie is willing to pull away. Listening to Pope’s groans getting breathier and lighter as he gets closer to coming. Finally pulling his head away and twisting his body so he can watch you swallow his friend down. “That’s it baby,” He grunts. “Make Santi cum. Swallow him down too so I can fuck you.”

It takes a couple more bobs of your head for Santi to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as Frankie withdraws his fingers and Pope starts to spill down your throat. His groan is low and loud, echoing in the room as he twitches while he spills down your throat, making you moan around him.

“Fuck….” Santi hisses, head dropping back against the sofa and moaning out as he throbs in your mouth.

“Fuck, girl, you are so gorgeous like this.” Frankie groans, chuckling as he wraps his wet hand around his cock and starts to slowly pump himself completely hard. “Swallow him down like a good girl.” He orders.

You obey, eagerly swallowing every drop of cum. Santi cums less than Frankie, none of it dripping down your chin as you let the salty seed spurt down your throat until he’s softening in your mouth. You pull off of him and open your mouth, displaying your tongue to him to show you’ve swallowed every drop.

“Good girl.” Pope pants, grinning as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

“Don’t be greedy, cabrón.” Frankie huffs, pulling you back and scowling at his grinning friend. Taking over kissing you greedily and tasting him out of your mouth with no issue.

You’ve never known two men so comfortable with each other and it’s intoxicating. You cup his cheek as his tongue slides against yours. “Baby, I need - I need you to fuck me.” You whine into Frankie’s mouth.

He hums happily, pleased that you are begging him although he knows if he had just cum, you would be begging Pope. “I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. Leaning over and grabbing a condom off the table. “How do you want to be fucked, pretty girl?” He demands. “Back, hands and knees?” He rips the packet open and starts to roll it down his length. Wanting you to decide how he fills you.

“On my back.” You answer breathlessly and Frankie nods, shifting back so you can lay down on the sofa. Pope frames your shoulders, looking down at you, and his hands instantly grab your tits. You moan and Frankie kneels on the sofa, pushing your legs apart so he can settle between them.

Shuffling closer and pumping his cock, Frankie looks down at you. Watching you squirm and moan under Pope’s touch. “Gonna fuck you, baby.” He promises, notching himself at your entrance and pulling one leg up to drag across the back of the sofa for more access. “Right now.” He grunts as he starts pushing in.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you haven’t had sex in a while. Not since your ex. You reach up to grip Pope’s forearms as he squeezes your tits and you close your eyes. “Oh I think she likes that already, Cat.” Santi chuckles and you nod, mouth falling open as he pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you.

“She’s fucking tight.” Frankie growls, gritting his teeth together and trying to control himself. Your hot walls around him make him just want to destroy you, but he needs to let you adjust. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He hisses when you squeeze him in response to his twitching deep inside you.

You know he’s just lost in the moment but his words make you whine with need and Pope chuckles as he pinches your nipples. “God, she’s a cock hungry little whore, ain’t she?” He asks his best friend who nods and gives you another moment before he starts to move, pulling out of you almost all the way until he decides to push back in in a thrust that takes your breath away.

Frankie chuckles, loving the little squeak that gets cut off. “Let me hear you, baby.” He grunts, pulling back for another thrust. “No one here, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” Snapping his hips forward, he drills into you again to start a harsh pace.

You can’t deny him. You cry out as he punches deep, feeling like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. Your nails dig into Santi’s forearms as you take what Frankie gives you, moaning his name and you’re soaking him with wave after wave of arousal until your pussy starts to squelch with each thrust.

Luckily the sofa is leather and can be wiped off, otherwise you would be soaking it. Every time you gush around him. Making him groan as he rocks into you. “Is it worth it?” He grunts. “Letting us fuck you? Being our little slut for the night?”

You nod, “so- so worth it. Oh God. I- keep talking.” You beg, loving to hear his deep voice saying such filthy things. Pope chuckles, “keep going, Fish. She loves hearing you talk dirty. Had her soaking my fingers earlier.”

He chuckles and twitches inside you again. “She’s such a dirty slut.” He tells Pope. “I should just take off the condom and fill her cunt up with my cum, make a mess of her.” He hums. “Or I’ll pull out and cum all over her. Covering her like the little cum whore she is.”

“Oh fuck yessss.” You moan out, lost in the haze of lust, “want you to fill me up. Please, baby. Please. I need - I want - oh God.” You pant as he rocks into you, his jaw clenched and you whine out as he pushes you up the sofa and into Pope’s lap.

He smirks, enjoying how much you are begging for it but he would never make that change while everyone is caught up in the moment. “Good girl.” He groans, “Maybe I’ll wait until Pope is hard again and we’ll both take a hole. Really fill you up. Would you like that, baby?”

Your responding nod nearly makes your neck cramp. “Yes. Fuck. I- I want both of you. Want to feel both of you. I want - oh God. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, reaching up when you see Santi’s cock starting to get hard and you wrap your fingers around him while Frankie fucks you even harder. “Frank- I - oh shit.” You pant, getting closer and closer.

“That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl.” He pants out, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he fills you again and again. “Want you to cum for me. Want you to soak my cock. Scream my name.” He is practically begging but his hand snakes down between your bodies so he can rub your clit. “Cum for me.”

His thumb on your clit is exactly what you need. You practically squeal as you break, clamping down on his cock and soaking him as you cry out his name. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your grip on Santi’s cock tightens as you experience your second orgasm.

Pope hisses, and his cock throbs in your hand. “Beautiful.” He groans, watching you with heavy lidded eyes as Frankie works you through your orgasm and pushes for his own. “Cum, hermano.” He urges. “I want to be inside her the next time she squeals.

Frankie grunts, grabbing your leg to push it back further and you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. “That’s it baby. Cum for me.” You demand, “wanna see you cum again.” You let go of Santi’s cock to grab the back of Frankie’s neck, dragging him down to press your lips to his.

Moaning in surprise at your ferocity, Frankie feels the tingling in the base of his spine. The rush of pleasure that happens right before his body starts to tighten. Thrusting haphazardly, he growls out your name, “gonna- fuck- gonna cum.” He warns you against your lips as he gives a short, half thrust before he is pushing deep and grinding his hips, cock pulsing deep inside your cunt as he feels the condom up with his release. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as he rides out the waves of bliss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and you kiss him back as he fills the condom up and slowly rocks into you, riding his orgasm. “Well goddamn.” Pope coos, enjoying the show and his cock throbs.

Frankie kisses you slowly until he is good and damn ready to pull out of you. Holding the base of the condom and rocking back to pull out gently. Caressing your thigh as he looks down at you. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, smirking at your exhausted expression. “You got one more in you for us, don’t you?”

You nod, feeling boneless but you want Santi to cum too. Not because he’s footing the bill for your car but because you want him to fuck you.

You look up at Frankie and you offer him a lazy smile, “I do. Want Santi to fuck me.” You say and look up at Santi.

Frankie smirks proudly. “Good girl.” He shuffles back and lets Santiago take his place between your thighs. Standing up with a groan and walking over to the trash can to throw away the condom. “How do you want to be fucked this time?” The other man hums as he strokes a finger through your sensitive folds.

You whimper at the sensation and shift to kneel. “I want to ride you.” You tell Pope and he chuckles, reaching to smack your ass before he grabs the condom. “Let me -” He works fast to follow the rubber onto his cock and he hisses when you move fast to straddle his thighs. “Wanna feel you in my stomach.” You coo at him as you grip his cock and shuffle forward until you are sinking down onto him.

Even though he’s already cum, Frankie watches as you take Santi’s cock with eagerness. Knowing the man is enjoying himself from the way his thighs clench and he moans, hands gripping your ass and squeezing it. Unable to stop himself, Frankie cups your tits and pinches your nipples, biting down on your shoulder sharply before soothing it with his tongue. “So, ride him, sweetheart.” He orders. “Bounce on his cock like a little slut and show us what you've got.”

You clench around Santi’s cock at the filthy words and decide to follow orders. You grip Santi’s shoulders and start to move, lifting up until his cock nearly falls out of you before you sink back down. A moan escapes your lips and you squeeze his shoulders. “Fuck. You - it’s like you’re in my guts.” You confess, unable to to believe how long he is.

Pope chuckles and Frankie continues to tease and torment your nipples. “Want to be deep. So fucking deep you feel me for days.” He tells you, snapping his hips up.

You let out a noise that's half gasp, half moan, and your nails dig into his shoulders as Frankie kisses along your neck. It's overwhelming and incredible. "Shit. I will. I won't be able to - to walk tomorrow." You declare, loving the thought even if you need to work. "Fuck. I - oh God." You tilt your hips as you rock down and the change in angle has your head tilting back and a moan of Santi's name escaping your lips.

“Good.” Frankie growls, kissing along your neck. “Don’t walk. Or if you do, feel us every time you move.” He slaps your ass while still fondling your tits with his other hand. Sliding it lower to rub the puckered hole that is so close to where you are taking Pope.

You gasp at the slight invasion until you moan, "God. Want you - want you both inside of me. Wanna feel you both cum inside of me at the same time." Your inhibitions are gone as they tear you apart with their words and their actions, making you desperate to please and desperate to feel more.

Frankie smirks and pulls his fingers away to spit on them. “My fingers are going to have to do, Princess.” He teases. “You’ve drained me dry. Milked me for every drop of cum with that perfect mouth and cunt.” He rubs your hole again and starts to slowly press his fingers into you.

The added pressure has you shaking above Pope who has to thrust up into you, his hands grabbing your ass to spread your cheeks for Frankie to push his fingers deeper. The stretch has you closing your eyes, feeling fuller than ever before with Santi's cock still inside of you. "Oh fuck. That's - you're gonna make me cum." You rush out, body shaking even harder as Frankie pushes his fingers deeper and starts to move them inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for us.” Pope coos. “Come apart, want to see you, hear you scream.” He chuckles and leans in to bite at your bottom lip. “Cum.”

You practically scream into his chin as the two men work your body until you’re clamping down on Pope’s cock, soaking him and clenching around Frankie’s fingers as your orgasm hits you like a steam train.

You’re a stranger to them, they don’t know you, they don’t know your life - but they know what you look like when you cum. Watching you while they are holding their breaths, thinking that you are gorgeous as you shake and gasp for them.

You collapse forward onto Santi’s chest as he rocks up into your pussy, getting closer and closer until he freezes beneath you and lets out a groan as he spills into the condom. “Shit.” You pant into his skin while Frankie kisses along your spine.

Panting, Santiago grins as he tries to catch his breath. Squeezing your ass and rocking you languidly on his still stiff cock. “You’ve blown my mind, baby.” He hums, very pleased with the way this situation has turned out. “Definitely.”

You smile, “glad we could help each other out.” You thought you were fucked when you were told the cost of the repair or your car but you now acknowledge that it’s one of the best things to happen to you. “Might have to come back when she dies on me again.” You murmur as Frankie removes his fingers from inside of you and you shift off of Pope’s cock after he holds the condom.

Frankie smirks as he helps you off the sofa. “You can come back anytime, baby.” He promises with a wink. “You can use the bathroom in the breakroom, or go two doors down and use the shower.” He likes you, but you had done this so you could have your car, not for any other reason. He looks over at Pope and chuckles at the very satisfied look on his friend’s face.

You decide to use the shower, knowing that even if they hadn’t cum inside of you, you are sweaty and you want to wash off. “I’ll go shower.” You shift off of the sofa and stumble as you try to get your balance and the boys chuckle at their handiwork.

Completely at easy with his own nudity, Frankie walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Then going over to the fridge to pull out two beers, striding back over to the sofa to hand Pope one and then opening it as he flops down onto the couch beside him. “You actually had a good idea, asshole.” He huffs, smirking as he takes a sip of the beer.

Santiago smirks, “reckon she’ll be back?” He asks, “I hope she is. Does that sound bad? I don’t want her to get into an accident but Jesus, that pussy? Worth doing some free work and writing off parts for, huh?”

Frankie snorts and shrugs. “Not too bad. Not like you fucked with the timing belt so she has to come back.” He smirks to himself, thinking that it wasn’t too bad of an idea, but he hadn’t done that. He had fixed it the best he was able. “But that car’s a piece of shit, so who knows? She might become a regular.”

You wash off with their cheap 3-in-1 men’s body wash and kinda like how you smell like them after all the sex is washed from your body. You realized you need to get your clothes from the break room and walk in with the towel wrapped around you. “Decent water pressure you have in here.” You say as you reach for your panties and drop the towel, uncaring now they have seen every part of your body.

Pope chuckles and nods. “After showering in the shittiest places all over the world and having no water pressure, Fish demanded that we have a good shower.” His answer makes you tilt your head curiously and he shrugs. “Army, special forces.” He reminds you, “plenty of times we get ready to go out here, saves us a trip home.”

You nod, understanding and hating that you feel a little jealous about them going on dates. You have zero reason to feel possessive. You don’t know them, yet you want them to yourself. You fasten your bra and redress fast, sliding your feet into your shoes. “So, uh, I guess if I have any issues I’ll come see you again?” You ask, biting your lip as you stand while they sit on the sofa.

Frankie smirks and nods. “Anytime, baby, but I guarantee you won’t have problems on the shit I worked on.” He promises. “I don’t do sloppy work.” He’s not boasting, even though it might sound that way. He’s reassuring you that your car is as fixed as he could get it with what he worked on. “We were serious though, you need to start looking for another car.”

You nod, “I know. I, uh, I gotta save up some cash. I’ll see what I can do.” You sigh and Frankie stands up, still naked. “Thank you. For everything.” You say and hug him, breathing him in before you kiss him. Santi stands up a moment later, his hand on your waist and you switch to hug him, his lips eagerly finding yours.

While you kiss Pope, Frankie finds a pair of shorts to throw on so he can escort you to the door. He palms the keys to your car and when you pull away from Santi, he holds them up. “Let’s go get you back on the road so you can go to work tomorrow.” He hums.

You step back from Santi and take your keys. "Thank you so much guys." You thank them, "seriously, thank you. You saved me." You look them both in the eyes, and Santi winks at you, "our pleasure...literally."

Frankie walks you to your car, waiting for you to slide into the driver’s seat before handing you the keys and closing the door to lean in the window. “Thank you for tonight.” He murmurs quietly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Best pussy I’ve had.” He winks at you when he pulls back and taps the door.

You fluster, fumbling with your keys to turn the ignition, and Frankie stands there until you put the car in drive and make your way down the gravel driveway to the road. When you are driving home, you process what just happened and you think you should be disgusted with yourself for essentially whoring your body out to get your car fixed for free but you loved every second of it. Your car cruises along and you smirk as you stop at a light. It would be a shame if something else happened to you and you had to go back to the shop.

****

A week has passed and even though Frankie has thought about that night, especially when he’s in the break room, neither man has heard from you. It’s a good thing, really. It means that your car is working properly and you’ve been living your life. Leaning on the engine of a Ford Taurus that needs new spark plugs, Frankie’s back is to the lot when he hears the crunch of tires on the gravel. Another customer. He hears them pull the car to a stop and the door opens. “Go inside.” he calls out over his shoulder as he carefully replaces the first plug. “Santiago can help you.”

“I was kinda hoping you’d get your hands on my engine and make her purr.” You declare and Frankie hisses as he hits his head on the hood. “You’re back.” He says, rubbing his head and you nod, “she’s having issues again.” You bite your lip, “was wondering if you and Santi could help me out.” You’ve spent all week thinking about the two men, almost wishing your car would crap out so you could call Santi again to pick you up and help you out.

“Yeah?” The engine sounded fine to him when you had pulled up but he smirks slightly as he holds out a hand for the keys. “Leave her with me.” He promises. “I’ll find out what's wrong just as soon as I’m done with this one.” He cocks his head. “Might take awhile though. ‘Til closing.” He teases, cock twitching and he wonders if there is something actually wrong or if his instinct is right and your back to get get fucked again.

You hand him the keys and offer him a small smile, not wanting to give away what your intentions are. You bite your lip and walk into the waiting room to find Santi sitting behind the desk. “You’re back?” His eyes widen and you nod, feigning a sigh, “she’s making strange noises again.” You tell him and shift from one foot to the other, “Frankie said he’d be checking it out after the one he’s working on now.”

Santiago nods and motions towards the waiting area. “You can wait out here or you know where the break room is.” He smirks slightly and licks his lips as he remembers the last time you were in that room. “You know that we will take care of it, of you.” He drops his voice down and watches as your eyes swim with lust.

You decide to make your intentions known and walk down to the break room. Exhaling shakily, you wait for someone to follow you and it doesn’t take long for Santi’s hands to find your waist as you look up at the tv in the corner. “You come in for another issue?” He asks, voice low in your ear. “She’s not purring like she should be. Figured I should get it checked out.”

“Hmmmm.” Santiago smirks, seeing through your weak story and he presses close, flattening his front against your back. “Frankie will fix her.” He promises, whispering the words into your ear and grinning when you shudder. “Question is, how expensive will it be? And how will you pay for it?”

“I - I was thinking…maybe you could honor the last deal we had? Since it’s only been a week and it’s gone wrong already.” You say softly, feeling a little ashamed until his nose nudges your neck and his warm breath washes over your skin, making you shiver.

Since the customer wasn’t waiting for the car he had been working on, Frankie abandoned it as soon as you walked inside and started looking at yours. Quickly finding out that nothing is wrong with the car beyond what he knew about a week ago. He chuckles to himself as he wipes his hands as he walks over to the door. No one else is at the shop and once again, you are alone with the two men. He walks in to find you and Santiago looking very intimate and he hums. “Well, sweetheart, looks like you’re in another bind.” He lies, feigning concern. “Transmissions gone and it’s gonna be at least a thousand bucks.”

You make sure you look a little distraught as you turn to face the other man. “I- you know I don’t have the money. Can we - can we honor the last deal we had?” You ask, sticking your lower lip out.

His eyes slide behind you to Pope and it’s obvious that he’s seen through your charade. Pretending to consider it, he bites his lip. “Depends on what you’ll let us do, baby.” he finally decides. “We’ve both fucked you, gotten our dicks sucked. What can you give us this time?” Your eyes widen and he smirks. “I’m thinking that you let us fuck you bare this time.” He growls. “No condom. Both holes.”

You close your eyes, trying to refrain from your shiver of anticipation, and you pretend to consider it. “And you’ll do what it takes to fix my car?” You ask, “for free?” Frankie nods and you bite your lip, “deal.” You hold your hand out and he takes it, dragging you to him so he can press his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair as Santi comes up behind you to kiss your neck and work on the button of your jeans. It’s as overwhelming as it was before but you’re already drunk on them both.

They should stop and clean up. Shower, but somehow Frankie doesn’t think that you care how clean they are. Maybe you even prefer the idea of sweaty, hardworking men using you. His tongue slides into your mouth as he snakes a hand up your shirt to squeeze your tit over the lacy bra you are wearing. Something you obviously put on in anticipation of getting fucked. Frankie drags his lips away from yours to groan. “Do you want her ass?” He asks Pope, knowing the man loves anal.

The way he discusses you like you’re an object shouldn’t make you clench around nothing but it does and Santi’s fingers slide into your lace panties to find your clit and you moan, arching your chest into Frankie’s hand. “Of course, hermano. Her ass is mine. You take her pussy. She’s already wet for us.” He chuckles darkly as he twists his hand to slide his finger through your folds as Frankie pulls your shirt over your head.

“Of course she is.” Frankie scoffs. “We’re going to make her cum. Multiple times. How often does that happen?” He quickly unhooks your bra and ducks his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple and bites down on it.

You pant, “not too often until - until I came here.” You confess, “ex didn’t make me - not like you do.” You admit breathlessly as Santi works on pulling down your jeans, helping you kick off your sneakers and he groans at the sight of the lacy thong. “Someone had high hopes.” He teases and you chuckle breathlessly, “don’t hear you complaining.”

Frankie pulls off your tit with a pop and chuckles. “Oh we aren’t complaining, baby” he promises. “I’m just trying to decide if Pope’s gonna lick your pussy while I’m balls deep or we’re gonna double team making you cum on our tongues before you get our cocks.”

“Shit.” You hiss, your body almost vibrating with need for them. You’ve spent every night since you came here to get your car fixed thinking about them with your hand between your thighs. “What - whatever you want. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Oh we’re going to.” His chuckle is bordering on mean and Pope smacks your ass. “Gotta get a thousand dollars worth of pussy.” Pope teases, sliding his hand back between your thighs and pushing two fingers inside you. Frankie hums and decides he can’t wait. “You’re going to sit on my cock while Pope eats you out.”

You nod, unable to deny the man a thing. He quickly strips out of his overalls and there’s something so sexy and raw about him as he strips down and Santi notices, chuckling as you clench around his fingers. When Fish sits down naked on the sofa, Pope withdraws his fingers and you shift to straddle Frankie but he shakes his head and turns you around. You nod and shuffle back, gripping his cock so you can sink down onto him, bare and thick. “Holy shit.” You moan, leaning back into his chest and Frankie spreads your legs a little wider.

Frankie groans and slides his hands up your thighs to cup both of your breasts. Pope is staring at your cunt, his cock pushing deep as he strips out of his own clothes. “Fuck, she’s even better without the condom.” Frankie pants as he rolls your nipples with his fingers and twists them slightly to hear you gasp.

You moan in agreement, “can feel all of you.” You reach back to run your fingers through his hair as Pope strips down. His cock bounces as he comes over to the sofa, kneeling down in front of you and you watch him as you start to work yourself on Frankie’s cock. On your tiptoes as you try to lift yourself enough to ride him.

Grunting, Frankie rocks his hips up to fill you again. Enjoying the squeal and he squeezes your breasts roughly again. “Couldn’t get enough of us, could you?” He grunts. “Too bad we aren’t your landlords. You could just pay rent in pussy.” He teases. “Be our personal cocksleeve.”

“Fuck.” You pant, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I fucking wish.” You declare and Santi runs his hands along your thighs, bringing your attention to him. You look down and his dark eyes meet yours as he leans forward to slide his tongue against your clit, just above where Frankie’s cock is disappearing inside of you. “Oh my God.” You whine at the added sensation.

“Eat her pussy good, Pope.” Frankie orders as he starts to nibble and lick on your neck. “She deserves to cum before we’re filling these little holes with our loads.” He groans when you clench down on him. “You like that, baby? You want to drip our cum? We can jerk off on you too.”

“Yes. Shit. I want - I want you to ruin me. Use me. Cum on me. In me. Do- do whatever you want.” You ramble, knowing that you’re completely drunk on them. You’ve never been treated like this and it has you begging for more. Pope’s tongue slides along your folds and you moan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Slapping your breast, Frankie bites down on your shoulder, hoping to leave teeth impressions. Leaving a mark on your skin. He rocks his hips up and hums. “We will. You’re such a willing little slut for us.” He hisses, loving how much you enjoy the dirty talk.

“I am. Only for you. Only ever like this for you two. Fuck, Frankie. I- shit.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in Santi’s hair, rocking your hips again to try and find the spot to make you cream. “Oh God.” You gasp when you find it, rocking frantically as you work yourself up to your orgasm.

“That’s it. Fuck you get so tight.” Frankie coos as you bounce on his dick. “Cum for us. Cum and Pope will slide into your ass and you can cum again. And again until we finally fill up your little holes and let you feel us for another week.”

His words combined with his cock and Pope’s mouth around your clit has you falling apart. You squeal, closing your legs around Pope’s head as you collapse back against Frankie while you convulse with your climax. “Oh oh ohhh.” You cry out, eyes clenched shut.

Frankie groans, twitching inside you and trying to bite his lip to control himself. Wanting to make sure that he doesn’t cum too early. He wants to fill you up when Pope is also inside you.

You relax, panting as you work through your orgasm, and Pope caresses your thighs while you recover. "Frank, lay down and let her sit on your cock while I get her ready." Pope says, slapping your thigh. The other man nods and you shift off of him so he can lay down on the sofa.

Frankie watches as you straddle him, smirking as he leans up and bites the top of your tit and smacks your thigh. “You ready to take both of us, baby?” He asks roughly, eager to stretch you out and hear you scream again. You’re addicting and so fucking eager for their touch.

You nod, a little apprehensive but eager. You have done anal before with your ex so you know what to expect but you've never had two men at the same time. You shiver as Pope straddles the sofa behind you, a bottle of lube in his hand. "You had that hanging around?" You tease breathlessly.

Pope chuckles and he shrugs. “Spit sucks when you’re jerking off.” He tells you easily, before he opens the bottle to squirt it onto his fingers. “Gonna work you open for a few minutes, baby. Want you to enjoy it.”

You gasp softly when his fingers prod at your puckered hole and you whimper when he pushes a finger into you. "Fuck baby." You murmur, clenching around Frankie's cock while his hands caress your waist and up to your tits.

“It’s okay, baby.” Frankie coos softly. “We aren’t going to wreck you until you’re ready.” He promises. He knows that Pope is eager to slide inside you, but the man is a trained operator, he has the patience to wait until it will be nothing but the sweetest pinch of pain for you. “Open up for him. Let us make you fly.”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed when Pope adds another finger, scissoring to try and open you up a little more. You gasp again, "God, it feels good." You confess, rocking slightly on Frankie's cock as Santi opens you up for him.

“Kiss me, pretty girl.” Frankie orders, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his lips. You’re intoxicating and he wants to gorge himself on you while Pope works you open and slides inside your tight little hole.

You slide your tongue against his and you moan into his mouth as Pope adds a third finger, pumping them deep and you pant into Frankie’s mouth. “Oh God. I need - please. Need you both inside of me now.” You beg, needing to feel fuller than ever before.

Frankie and Pope both chuckle because of how desperate that you sound. Frankie kisses you again as Pope slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the luge again to generously coat his cock in the clear jelly. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” His hand caresses your spine as he shuffles closer and presses the head of his cock to your puckered hole as Frankie holds your hips steady.

You inhale deeply, preparing yourself to take his cock. You bite your lip as he pushes into you and you wince at the slight pinch but it disappears as soon as it comes, and you are moaning when Pope pushes into you and you feel fuller than you've ever felt in your life. "Holy shit." You hiss, body almost shaking from the sensation.

“That’s it, baby.” Frankie caresses your sides. “You’re doing so good. You look so fucking pretty split open by our cocks. Doesn’t she, Pope?”

"Fucking incredible, hermano." Pope says as he watches his cock disappear into your ass and you're so fucking tight. He thought your pussy was tight but this is - it's mind numbing. "I need you to move." You tell them, thighs shaking slightly.

“We’re gonna move.” Frankie promises, lifting his hips and slowly starting to scrub his cock along your walls. “You just hold still and let us do all the work, baby.”

You can’t move, sandwiched between the two men as their cocks push deep until they start to move. Frankie moves first then Pope, alternating so you’re always full of one cock and it’s overwhelming, more than you’ve ever felt before. Inhumane whines and cries escape your lips as you let them use your body.

Frankie can tell you love it, even if you can’t speak right now. Your tight little cunt is made even tighter by Pope and he can feel the other man through the thin wall. Sliding his hand around your hip as he rocks his own up, his thumb finds your clit and he presses against it to start rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves.

You squeal at the added stimulation. It’s too much and yet not enough at the same time. You shake as you let them use your body for their pleasure and the pleasure you receive back is making your eyes water. It’s so good. “Oh fuck.” You finally gasp out and Santi kisses along your neck, biting down your shoulder the opposite side of Frankie’s bite.

Frankie groans and slaps your thigh. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” He hisses. “Gonna be even prettier filled with our cum. Wanna take a picture of those cum filled holes.”

"Yesss. Do it. I wanna - I wanna see." You confess and try to rock your hips but they have you trapped between them as they rock into you.

Pope groans when you grip his cock unconsciously, "so fucking tight. Thought your pussy was tight but mierda, this is- shit." He hisses and rocks into you, over and over while Frankie rubs your clit, his thick cock pushing deep until you burst. "Oh I'm gonna - I'm gonna - oh fu-!" Your cry becomes a choke as you clamp down on Frankie's cock.

Both men have to stop moving because you are shaking so hard, your walls gripping them like a vice and they each moan. Frankie groans your name when you collapse forward and Pope grips your hips and immediately starts rocking into you frantically.

You are sweaty and overstimulated but you want them to fill you up. “Come on baby. Fill me up. Want to be dripping both of you. Want you to take - take a photo to keep. Want - shit - I need your cum.” You pant out, turning your head to press your lips to Santi’s jaw.

Pope chuckles and nods. “We will.” He promises before he kisses your mouth. Frankie grunts, watching the kiss as he starts to move again, falling into that alternating rhythm with Pope. “Fuck, you’re such a little slut. I fuckin’ love it.”

You pant, “yesss. For you. Only for you. Yours. This body belongs to you both.” You promise as Pope kisses your chin, his grunts get louder and more ragged. “Cum for me, fill me up.”

Santiago is the first one to tip over the edge. Gritting his teeth and hissing out your name as his hips slap against your ass once, twice more before he is letting out a strangle grown and grinding deep, cock pulsing as he fills your ass.

You love the way his fingers dig into your hips as he holds you close while he cums. "Cum for me, Frankie." You demand, wanting to feel the other man spill inside of you too.

Frankie pants out an acknowledgment of what you had moaned and rockets up the pace of his thrusts. Bracing his feet on the sofa and fucking up into you as hard as he can.

All you can do is hang on as Frankie fucks up into you a half dozen more times before he’s cumming, filling you up and making you shudder as the sensation of both men cumming inside of you gives you a small aftermath orgasm that makes your pussy milk Frankie for every drop.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Frankie groans, pulling you close to kiss you again. His tongue is surprisingly gentle, intimate instead of demanding while he rides out his orgasm inside your perfect cunt.

You kiss him back just as eagerly, moaning into his mouth and Pope kisses along your shoulder, “so good.” He murmurs into your skin and you hum your agreement.

“God, I definitely don’t think I can walk for a while.” You giggle and rest your weight on Frankie as he twitches inside of you.

Frankie chuckles. “It’s a good thing you don’t have to.” He tells you and smirks at Santiago. “Go get your phone.” He orders. “So we can take a picture of those cum filled holes.” He had meant it when he said he wanted a photo. His eyes slide over to you. “If you will let us take one.” He adds. “Not your face though. And it’s only for us.”

You nod, “no face. Only for you.” You tell them and Pope nods, slowly pulls out of you. “Clench baby. Keep it in.” He orders and you giggle, trying to stop his cum from pushing out of you. You frown slightly at knowing it’s gonna be a bitch to clean up but it was worth it.

Frankie smirks at the face you make as you clench down, twitching inside you even as he softens. Santiago goes to grab his phone out of his pocket and comes back over. “Pull off Fish’s cock, baby, and stick your ass out.” He orders as he opens the camera app and zooms in.

You follow his orders, lifting off of Frankie and you lean forward to display your ass and pussy to the camera. You reach behind you to spread your cheeks, giving him more of an eyeful as their cum starts to drip from inside of you.

"Fuck, you are so perfect." Pope groans, snapping several photos of the creamy mess they have made of you. "So fucking perfect." He repeats, smirking down at the screen when he gets done. Frankie hums his agreement as he watches you.

“I need to shower but I don’t think I can stand up.” You declare as you let go of your ass and shift to sit on the leather sofa, wincing at the aches already happening to your body.

Frowning slightly at your discomfort, Frankie swings his feet off the sofa and stands up, before he leans down and pulls you up into his arms with a soft grunt. He's carried grown men when he was in the Army, 300 pound packs of gear; and since getting out - hauled around heavy engine parts. Carrying you to the shower is not a big deal. "Then I'll just carry you." He tells you with a smirk.

Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the shower. It’s incredibly sexy and you almost want him to fuck you again but you can’t take anymore sex right now. He sets you against the wall as he turns on the water and you bite your lip, watching him and Santi enters the shower a few seconds later. “How the hell are you two single? Holy shit. You are single?” Your eyes widen as you realize you never had that conversation with them.

Frankie snorts and Santi chuckles. "Baby, if we weren't single, we wouldn't be fucking you." He assures you quietly as Frankie reaches for the 3-in-1 body wash and the loofa that is hanging from the shower knob.

"We aren't that sleazy." Frankie adds, lathering up the loofa and kneeling down to start washing you. "Although I'm wondering when you're going to admit there was nothing wrong with your car."

You fluster, watching Frankie as he washes you, his hand tenderly sliding through your folds to wash you. “I, uh, I was going to…eventually.” You confess bashfully. “I thought - well, I didn’t want you to think I was easy or- or desperate by coming back to say I needed you to fuck me.” You admit, biting your lip.

"Don't think either one." He makes sure he cleans you gently, knowing you have to be sore and he doesn't miss the way that your hands are holding onto Pope as he leans you against him. "The sex is amazing and I'd be lying if I wasn't thrilled when you came back."

You smile, “I’m glad you think so. I- fuck. Do you think I could get regular tune ups at home? Would be nice to get a service in a bed.” You smirk, “saves me having to drive to the shop.”

Pope looks over your shoulder and down at Frankie. The other man smirks as he pushes to his feet, the loofa abandoned and his soapy hands cup your tits. "We are mechanics." Frankie teases, "we can make anything purr." He loves the way you gasp when he pinches your nipples. "Especially you."

You moan and Pope kisses your cheek, “we can make house calls.” You kiss his lips and grin, “perfect. I can’t wait to see what else you can do.” You giggle and Santi caresses your sides, “oh baby, we are just getting started.” You smirk and enjoy the way the men sandwich you between them.

“We can set you up for regular maintenance.” Frankie promises and kisses you softly. You all wash up and dry off, redressing and soon the boys are walking you to your car. “She’s good to go but we will need to check on her this weekend. Saturday?” They ask and you nod, “you have my number and address from my file. I’ll see you then boys.” You wink and gingerly get into your car. You pull out of the garage parking lot and the men watch you go.

“Best fucking tow pick up ever.” Santi slaps Frankie on the back and Catfish nods, “and we are only getting started.” The men smirk as your car makes its way down the road, several problems that need fixing soon orchestrated by the mechanics to guarantee they see you again. Even if it wasn’t necessary after all.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader x santiago garcia #frankie morales x you x santiago garcia #frankie morales x f!reader x santiago garcia #catfish x you x pope #catfish x reader x pope #catfish x f!reader x pope #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales imagine #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut

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thefandomsfervent · 21 days ago

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Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments(Part 17) - Prussian Blue

This is a jayvik x reader fic now but it'll still be labeled as a Vik Fic until it's fully implemented. Ft. JayVik and wine, drunk Jayvik, it goes 18+ here (masturbation). Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. It's late, I was on a roll, and I didn't proofread this a whole lot, I'll edit it later.

Planning on writing as much as I can this weekend to post in bulk before Christmas week, I'll be traveling a distance away and can't bring my laptop with me.

stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

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It only took you thirty minutes to find your way back to the lab. Although, those first few minutes had you stressed and embarrassed. You and Mel had spent almost two hours walking and talking and you thought she had taken you all over the Academy, but she really had you both walking laps. You were closer to the dining hall than you thought, from there you were able to find your room, and then the lab. Just as you walk up to that heavy door it swings open.

“Zlato, please, use your feet.” It’s Viktor, doing his best to keep Jayce above the floor. You rush forward without thinking and get under Jayce’s other arm to prop him up. You have to drop your pouch and your sketchbook. It gets kicked behind you into the lab once you’re able to stand taller.

“What happened?” You’re asking as you shift Jayce between yourself and Viktor. He’s laughing to himself at the situation. “Oh my gods. He was drunk. Jayce Talis sensible golden boy was drunk.” You remember the wine that Mel had gifted them. But it had only been two hours. Three and half maybe?

“The wine was stronger than we thought.” When you look at Viktor you see his hair is tousled, his cheeks red from exertion or his own drinking you aren’t sure.

“Did he have the whole bottle?” You’re laughing and trying not to. The shaking of your shoulders makes it hard to keep Jayce up straight. “Hun you have to help us help you okay?”

“Mmm you’re both warm. ‘S nice.” You were not letting him live this down tomorrow, if he wasn’t suffering a raging hangover.

“He had four glasses, too close together I think.” Viktor is adjusting his cane straighter with one hand and moving his shoulders around to get a better grip on Jayce’s back with his other.

“And you?”

“I also had four, but I am much better with alcohol than he is.” He thinks back to the first time they had drank together. Some whiskey that was spiced heavily at a cocktail lounge many many months ago. Viktor had enjoyed it, nursing a glass for the first thirty minutes. But Jayce? He slammed it and immediately gagged. Coughing and sputtering. That one drink alone had almost knocked him clean on his ass ten minutes later. He’s laughing at the memory. Especially when he remembers that Jayce made the exact same mistake another ten minutes after drinking a seltzer and they had to sit on the curb outside nursing water. Since then Jayce had learned how to pace himself, learned that he preferred drinks that did not burn his throat and were easier to sip on. Wine was hit or miss. “The wine was sweet, so he was not as cautious as he should have been.”

“WE ARE CELEBRAATING!” The sudden input from Jayce surprised you both. Despite his jelly legs his arms are strong, squeezing the two of you closer. He wasn’t yelling, as much as he was whisper screaming.

“Oh! Congratulations, a new development?” You’re following Viktor’s lead as you take patient steps down the hall. Viktor looks down to Jayce, whose face is flush from all the wine, who has a smile so bright it could be seen in the dark, and who is actively starting to fall asleep in their arms. They needed to move him quickly before he was dead weight. At that point it would be impossible to move him even with your help. There was no time to explain what they were celebrating.

“Yes, a new development.” He can’t help the gentle grin growing on his face. It was so warm. This endearment blooming in his ribs, the wine finding its place throughout his body, feeling your arm against his as you help him haul Jayce down the hallway. He can see their rooms. His was closest and Jayce’s was a couple doors down. There were many reasons he was thankful for the proximity of their moved rooms, but now more than ever. His hand using his cane was starting to go numb from the pressure, a pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder. “Here, to the left. Can you get him to the wall?” Jayce is heavy but you manage to move him to the wall by yourself, needing a breather as you slump against it with him.

He looks sleepy. Eyes struggling to stay open, his mouth parted, his usually perfect combed back hair disheveled.. “Pretty boy indeed.” You’re brushing it out of his face when he leans into your hand. He’s smiling, white teeth and happiness blinding even in the dim light of the hall. “You alright?”

“Neveerr betterrr.” It’s a slurred breathy reply and he slots his head against your shoulder. Viktor is glancing at you while also fiddling with a ring of keys. The clinking sound of metal against metal echoing in the hallway. He finds the one for Jayce’s room and starts unlocking the door. He nods at you to try and get Jayce to his feet.

“Hey big guy, you ready to get up again?” Jayce just hums, pushing the back of his head against the wall now. “Don’t you want to lay down all cozy in bed?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then I’m going to get up and I’ll need you to come with me. Can you do that?” Jayce gives another hum of agreement and Viktor watches how gentle you are with him. Helping him stand gingerly, holding onto his waist with one arm, and pulling Jayce’s arm over your shoulder again. Intertwining your fingers with his golden partner’s as you try your damndest to get him through the door. He watches as you give Jayce affirming words and praise for just moving forward with you. It pulls at his core, at all the things him and Jayce had discussed tonight. At all the moments that have been shared. “I’m a sappy drunk,” he thinks as he directs you to Jayce’s bedroom. Viktor pulls the covers back on the bed and lets you set the man down before he sits with him. Helping him take off his shoes.

“Thank you for your help. I am sure he will apologize tomorrow.” Jayce is leaning against Viktor, whispering something you can’t catch.

“I can’t say I won’t give him a hard time.” You laugh at the thought, then again when Jayce’s hand is slapped away from Viktor’s tie. It almost dies in your throat when you watch Viktor’s slender fingers work at Jayce’s. You know it’s to help Jayce get ready for bed, but after all that you’ve seen today it was an image you weren’t sure you were supposed to be burning into your memory like you are. “Goodluck. I’ll be in the hall if you need help.” Viktor just nods, trying to get Jayce to sit still as you leave.

You can hear Viktor talking to Jayce, instructing him as you close the bedroom door. Jayce’s apartment is neat but lived in. It smelled a little of oil? And baked spices. A jacket tossed over a couch, shoes neatly lined by the front door. A table with notes and blueprints that looked similar to how he kept his own room. Stacks of books filled with sticky notes. There are a few plants around. A guitar? So much information about a person in one space. It made you wonder about Viktor’s room. If it was neater than this knowing that he barely spent any time there. As you make your way into the hall you remember that Viktor had a key, on his own key ring, to Jayce’s place. So intimate, the care they had for each other. So sweet in its normalcy. A feeling brews in your chest as you wait by the door. Overwhelming and unknown, something akin to wanting.

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“You are drunk Jayce.” Viktor is trying his hardest to not laugh at the man in front of him, struggling to unbutton his own shirt.

“ ‘know that.” An irritated huff, an uncommon sound for his partner. “ ‘m trying.”

“I know you are, let me help.” It takes a few minutes to get Jayce set up for bed. Viktor leaves him in his undershirt, let’s Jayce take care of his pants despite the struggle. There’s a want brewing in him. He wants to stay here, to hold him til he sleeps, be there with water and maybe a pain reliever when he wakes up. But he doesn’t. He ignores the whine in Jayce’s throat when he goes to the kitchen to get his partner water. When he returns Jayce is out cold. Snoring softly under the covers. He leaves the water on the bedside table, watching the even breathing that moves Jayce’s chest. A hand moves to cup his cheek, rubbing a circle into the apple of it. Viktor’s heart swells when he feels the weight of Jayce push into it unconsciously.

He joins you in the hallway shortly after. You were staring at the wall in front of you, zoning out when the closing of the door snaps you out of it.

“Hey, he alright?” You’re leaning forward, hands by your side as you face him.

“He will be fine. Embarrassed, but fine.” Viktor was tired, the wine making him sleepy and warm. He starts walking towards his room and you follow.

“Didn’t think he’d be a lightweight. It’s kinda-” cute. You don’t finish the sentence but it seems like Viktor agrees with you, laughing softly as his cane taps against the floor.

“Unexpected. I did not know either when we first met. He will deny it though, if you ask it. Blames it on anything else.” He likes hearing you laugh. He likes knowing he caused it. He frowns when he realizes how short the walk is to his room. You would be leaving now. “Goodnight Ms. L/N. We shall see you in the lab tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. Goodnight Viktor.” Your voice is so soft, so sweet. Viktor watches as you walk down the hall, flipping through all the keys he has before finding the one for his door. He hadn’t gone to bed this early in a long time. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and he was already in his room getting ready to shower. Discarding clothes, finding ones for tomorrow. Brushing his teeth as the shower heats up.

When he steps in it fogs up the window over his sink. The warm water soothing the aches of his body. He goes over today’s events as he lathers a shampoo through his hair. How Jayce’s teasing of you led to teasing him. And now they were… together. Officially. Finally declared as two parts of a whole, and that they both wanted you. He thinks about the wine. How it was sweet and rich and strong. How it was sweeter on Jayce when he kissed him again. How pliant Jayce was in his hands, the heat of those broad shoulders in his palms. The sounds of their kissing, teeth clacking, lips hungrier after every glass.

He should be rinsing the soap out of his hair, he should be washing his body. The routine of putting soap to a washcloth, rubbing it between his hands to form suds lingers in the back of his mind as he continues to think of those kisses. How he could taste fermented fruit and cinnamon and Jayce. A different familiar memory cuts through the haze, much stronger this time. Of release, of teasing touches from past lovers. His imagination taking over. When Jayce tried to bed him would he touch him the same way? The shower is getting hotter, the wine on his breath despite having brushed his teeth. When he tried to bed you, would you react like he did? Would you feel the same that he and Jayce did, would you want them together?

His hand was moving lower, lower, lower. He could feel it happening, the blood moving down, the water against it but he is surprised at how hard he is. When he moves his hand down, the tip moving past the opening of his fist he imagines your lips. How would they feel on him, would you be experienced enough to wet them before starting. The image of you on your knees alone has him moving faster but then his thoughts wander. Would you start slow or would you try to take him all at once? Could he fist both of his hands in your hair and hold you there so could he fuck your mouth. Or would you take the lead, bobbing your head up and down. He imagines your hands holding it or maybe braced on his hips, fingers digging into the flesh. Would Jayce talk you through it once he knew what worked for Viktor?

He can feel it building, all too quickly. It's been a while since he indulged himself like this. A raspy breath falling from his chapped lips. You were so soft. Sweet. Your voice. Quiet and gentle. Would it be honeyed with a returned lust or would it be strained? Dazed like that morning he woke you? "Viktor?" It’s your voice. It’s Jayce’s. The intensity almost knocks him off balance, free hand bracing on the tiled wall as he finishes. Shooting forward onto the handles of the shower. A long burst followed by several short ones as he slows his hand. Twitching when he lets himself go.

And then the only fog he's left with is the steam of the shower. He felt faint, the shower water was too hot and he hadn't been taking full breaths. He turns a handle to make the shower cold and his hand is sticky with his release. Shame. Regret. Oh. What did he just do? He wants to blame it on Jayce’s teasing today. On the glass of wine that warmed his chest. But he knows that's not it. That it's his own depravity.

Well, he could blame all of those things. Embarrassment burns his cheeks more than the water, more than the wine. He hadn’t indulged in that in so, so long. And the realization that there would be something with Jayce in the future settles in his chest. That Jayce wouldn’t be upset with him for this. He takes a deep breath.

More thoughts for later. Exhaustion is deep in his bones now, it had been a long day despite coming to his room early. He needs to sleep, to clean up. He lathers the rag on the hook and enjoys the rest of his shower. Tomorrow will be a new day. A good day.

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-------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 16-.-Part 18·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .----------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

#chat he jorked it #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane #viktor arcane #x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #jayvik #jayvikmel #jayce talis #mel medarda

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probablyreadinsmut · 15 days ago

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The Mrs Clause - Part Two

Jackson Joel Miller X Afab! Reader.

Read part one here

Here it is! Part two to this mini fic, I had wanted to get it done before Christmas but life and procrastination got in the way. Honestly I'm glad I waited and didn't rush it though. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and are enjoying the holidays and if you don't partake in the celebrations then I hope you're having a lovely week 💜

Warnings for part 2: Smut. MDNI.(For all my Joel Ho(e) Ho(e) Ho(e)s out there). Oral M+F receiving. Unprotected P in V (I expect y'all to do better, wrap it up like a present). Dirty talk. Joel is a quick draw. Squirting (if you squint). Praise. Folding you like a pretzel. Pussy and cock pronouns. Joel's a big boy. Fluff. Some love and appreciation for Joel's chompable ass. Mentions of loss. Joel is a sweetheart. Tommy can't sing for shit. Surprise at the end. Language (Swearing). Implied legal age gap, use your imaginations, reader existed before the apocalypse but there's no set age. No betas and I'm the worst at proofreading. I'm just here to practice writing and have fun.

Word Count: 5.3k

Credit for the cute little dividers goes to @strangergraphics 🎄

Kissing Joel was everything you'd dreamt it would be, feeling like you're floating, the entire world has gone silent, all you can hear is the slightly elevated thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears and the soft smack of his lips as they move with yours.

Neither of you have any idea how long you've been standing together like this, completely lost in each other. You can't think of anything but him and the way his hands feel on your back, gently caressing you through the velour Santa jacket he'd loaned you.

The way his beard scruff scrapes against your soft skin.

The way he smells, like pine and cinammon, mixed the sweet peppermint taste from all those candy canes he'd been snacking on over the course of the day.

The way his kiss is reverent but there's a tinge of something more behind it, a subtle heat that's threatening to escape from him.

The exhilarating combination of everything is making your head feel swimmy.

It's the squeels of kids outside the mess hall, engaging in an impromptu snowball fight, that finally snaps you both out of it, before you get too carried away. Honestly? It's probably a good thing, you felt like you were moments away from walking yourself backwards to one of the tables, letting him take you right here.

But you needed this reprieve. You didn't know if that's where he wanted this to go so quickly.

God knows that's what you wanted, but if he didn't and it spoiled the evening, you'd have been kicking yourself.

As you both pull back, lightly panting for breath, you both just stare at one another, letting out matching soft huffs of laughter.

"Well... That... I gotta say darlin'... That was probably top of my wish list for gifts this year." He says with a stupid goofy grin, to which you roll your eyes in amusement. "No no, really! Well... That and a well aged bottle of whiskey"

You shake your head with a small snort of laughter "Oh what an honour it is, hope you enjoyed it, 'cause you aren't getting another one"

He sticks his bottom lip out in a mocking pout. "Really? But I've been such a good boy this year" His hands are on your hips now, drawing small circles with his fingers over your clothes.

It's a lethal combination, he knows what he's doing. He's being anything but a good boy right now.

It's absolutely working, because the next words come tumbling out of your mouth in a flustered blurt. "Come back to my place?"

He knows he'd be a stupid man to say no to that.

Your heart is in your throat as you step over the threshold together. Joel shakes the fresh snow off himself almost like how a dog shakes themselves dry. He's so unintentionally funny sometimes, it actually calms your nerves a little.

Holding back a giggle, you head into the main living space, slipping off your heels with a small groan of relief, there was a reason you never wore these fucking things. Whoever designed them hated feet.

Meanwhile, he's taken the opportunity to do a little snooping, never having been in your house before, natural curiosity takes over.

A low whistle leaves him when he spots your record collection, it's tiny but it's there. "Didn't take ya for a Fleetwood fan" He grins as he raises the album up. "They're one of my favourites too, actually saw Stevie live back in the day"

"Someone's bragging, lucky bastard. I'm only a little jealous about that." your feigned non-chalonce and playful pout draws a chuckle from him, the sound of which has your heart skipping a beat.

Taking off the Santa jacket to hang it over the back of your couch, retrieving the carving from the pocket, you wander over to the mantleplace, setting it down to take pride of place in the centre, nestled between the one treasured photograph you have of your family and the candle you light when you're missing them. Lana is back where she belongs.

It's then that the gentle opening riffs of Landslide begin to play and you turn to see Joel watching you, with this soft smile and gooey eyes that make all your fears melt away. This bastard is a romantic. You hadn't expected that.

It a few short strides he's crossed the room, stopping in front of you. "May I have this dance?" He grins, outstretching his hand like the southern gentleman in him never left.

You don't hesitate to slip your hand into his and he doesn't hesitate to pull you closer, slipping his large hands around to rest flat against your lower back, your arms slide around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder as you begin to slowly sway together in the middle of your living room.

A small contented hum leaves him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, your hearts beating in a steady, matching rhythm. This - you realise, is what's mean missing from your life. Joel Miller. The secret romantic, the secret big softie. You were crushing on him even before, when you knew him as the stern and authoritative grump that you'd been partnered up with for patrols, but now in his arms like this? Now you felt like you were falling.

And you couldn't stop it even if you tried.

"Y'know..." he starts, his voice a low murmur "I can't remember the last time I danced with someone like this... Definitely not since before anyway... Probably at my high school prom actually"

You chuckle lightly, shifting to wrap your arms around him just a little tighter, not wanting this moment to end. Closing your eyes you try to picture young Joel all dressed up in a tux, swaying softly with a faceless date, you could imagine yourself at that age as his date.

You'd never had a prom, 18 year old you was too busy growing up in this new world, learning how to live without her family. Still it was nice to fantasize. But the reality was right here with you now, pretty sure he was the man of four dreams, as cliché as that sounded in your head. It didn't make it any less true.

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you meet his soft gaze, that same feeling you had earlier when the two of you were about to kiss under the mistletoe begins to swell within you, like a drumroll leading up to a big finish.

"I like you Joel... A hell of a lot actually. Probably too much." it's an admission that's been months in the making, always on the tip of your tongue when you're out on patrol together or when you find him at the Tipsy Bison drinking alone. You'd always been too chickenshit to admit it though, he seemed like he enjoyed being alone but there was always a part of you that thought perhaps he did it as a defence mechanism.

Keep your circle small, less chance of getting hurt. You could respect that. Everyone had lost something in this world, he was no exception to the rule.

"I like you too darlin'. It's... Fuckin' terrifying actually. Last person I had any kind of feelin's for she..." He cuts himself off, throat bobbing as he takes a moment to think about Tess, it wasn't conventional love, he'd never said it to her, she'd never said it to him but he knew deep down what it was to both of them. "...Well, I don't think I need to say more about that. You know."

And you do, you can see it in his eyes, the pain as he's thinking about a lost love. This world had taken so much from everyone.

"I do.. S-so I get it, if you don't want this to be anything more than just tonight or... or if you want to stop right now and go home." As much as it pains you to say, the last thing you'd want is for him to feel pressured to let you into his life, to become one more person inside that small circle of his, but what you don't know is that you're already in it.

He just stares blankly at you for a moment like that's the dumbest thing he's ever heard. "What? No. No, no. Don't get me wrong, like I said I'm fuckin' terrified but-" He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the gentleness of his touch a sweet opposite to the rough persona he gives off "-but, I do want this. Make no mistake about that. I'm all in darlin'"

From there it starts slow, kissing unhurriedly in the living room, savouring each other. Eventually you'd begun to undress each other on the stairs, laughing together when Joel tripped up a step as he attempted to chase you up them, his tshirt discarded with reckless abandon over the bannister.

It didn't take long for things to heat up once he'd got you into your bedroom, kissing and nipping at your neck as he helped you out of your skirt while you tugged down those ridiculous Santa pants, though you were still questioning how those made you feel.

Soon enough you're both on your bed, naked and tangled up together in a heated frenzy of kisses, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating your bodies through the crack in the curtains.

It had been a while for you, not since the last QZ you were in before Jackson and if the warmth of pre cum oozing onto your thigh is anything to go by, it's been a while for him too.

"Okay--" he pulls back slightly, resting his forearms either side of your head, his breathing ragged with desire as he gazes down at you "-If we don't slow down a 'lil I'm gonna blow my load before we've even started darlin' that's the gods honest truth"

A soft giggle leaves you, lazily raking your nails up and down his bare back, feeling the way he shivers under your touch. "As hot as that is." It really is, the fact that he's so worked up just from kissing and some heavy petting, makes you feel like some kind of goddess right now. That you could get a man like Joel Miller, ruthless-prickly-antisocial to just about everyone else in this town-Joel Miller, well that has you positively weak at the knees. "I really would like you to fuck me first before that happens"

A low groan leaves him at your words and his brain just about short circuits, he's heard you swear plenty of times out on patrol but what you just said was legitimately the best Christmas gift he could ask for.

"Ohhhh darlin'" He drawls in that smooth timbre that has your pussy clenching around nothing "I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep talking like that, I'm probably not gonna last long as it is." He lowers down to press slow, warm open mouthed kisses on your neck, taking his time now "But I intend. To make sure. That you. Enjoy yourself first." it's murmured against your skin between kisses, his breath hot against your collarbone as you register the featherlight skim of his fingers on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, rubbing in languide circles as he coaxes it to peak.

He takes his time on your breasts when he finally does get to them with his lips, sucking one into his mouth, working it over with his tongue, the bastard even has the audacity to look up at you through those dark lashes, grinning with your nipple in his mouth. It's sinful how good he looks like this. A complete 180 from the soft man who was playing Santa just a few hours ago.

Now he's lavishing your tits with such expertise that has you sure that he's definitely on the naughty list.

Every little gasp that falls from your lips and writhe under him has him reading you like a book, quickly learning your cues as if he were memorizing directions. Mentally mapping your body out.

Once he's sure you're a mess for him, he pulls off your breast with a wet pop, dragging his lips down your abdomen, his stubble tickling at the sensitive flesh there, a breathy chuckle leaving you. You're ticklish. Another little fact about you that he'll happily store away for safe keeping.

As his lips move past your hips, burying his face in the wirey curls of your mound, inches away from your aching cunt, your legs part on instinct, his arms moving to hook underneath your thighs, holding you open for him.

"Fuuuuuuck sweetheart, look at this pretty little pussy. This mess all for me huh?" His breath fans across your pussy as he speaks, you're resting on your forearms looking down your body at him, appreciating the curve of his ass behind him, very biteable, yum.

The dirty talk doesn't even surprise you, just by the way he carries himself in his day to day life you already had a hunch he'd be like this, all tender and sweet when he wants to be, but as filthy as they come between the sheets.

"C'mon babygirl, use your words, wanna hear you say who this..." He swipes his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal before he brings it to his lips, tongue darting out to taste you on his fingers "...Sweet little cunt belongs to, holy fuck you taste so good"

His reaction has your wetness pooling beneath you, you're absolutely soaked right now and there's no hiding it from him. "You Joel. I'm yours, please..."

"Don't need to ask me twice darlin'" With that he ducks his head down, licking a slow stripe up from your entrance to your clit, an obscenely hot growl leaving him as your essence hits his tastebuds at full force.

You mewl and arch beneath him, his big hands gripping your thighs to keep you open. He starts slow at first, swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue in practiced patterns, just as you think he's sticking to a rhythm of left to right, he switches it up and goes in circles.

It's threatening to drive you to insanity. Edging you closer to release before he pulls it back, drawing this out longer, you realise quick enough. You're not usually this quick to approach climax but that's because you're on your own. Now however, he has complete control over you and he knows it.

The moan you let out when his tongue breeches you is obscene, you feel the mattress rock a little, lifting your head just enough to see him rutting into it. "Careful... You'll- oh fuck... Make yourself cum" That's all you can manage to get out before you throw your head back with a gasp, your hands flying into his hair holding him firm against you. He's let go of one of your thighs, bringing his thumb to your clit, circling it with a delicious pressure that makes all your self given orgasms pale in comparison.

A deep rumble of laughter bubbles up from his throat as he feels your velvety walls begin to spasm around his tongue. He'll stop teasing you now, he wants nothing more than to taste that sweet honey of yours, that and his dick is throbbing so hard it's verging on painful, all those little noises you've been making are addictive.

His hips still against the mattress as he focuses all his energy on you now, pressing just that little bit firmer against your clit as his tongue curls and fucks your tight heat. You feel the mixture of his saliva and your juices making a mess under you, trickling down your ass. You know his beard will be coated too.

"J-joel- oh... F-fuck. Mmm. Gonna- oh god!!"

Thighs trembling either side of his head, if he didn't have you spread open with his big hand on your thigh, you're sure you'd be clamping them around him by now, threatening to suffocate him as your release wracks through you. As it is, you're holding him steady against your pussy and he's more than happy to work you through it, groaning out as he laps up every last drop.

As the trembles begin to subside, he starts his way back up your body, kissing every curve and valley along the way until his looming over you once more, grinning down at you with pride, his chin glistening with your glossy fluids.

"Bet you're- so fucking pleased with yourself huh?" The breathless tone has his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

"Damn right I'm proud of myself. Got her nice and wet f'me, prolly gonna be able to slide right in." He coos as he reaches down between you, teasing his cock through your folds, up and down, over your swollen clit and back again to nudge at your entrance, over and over again. "I'm warnin' you darlin', I really ain't gonna last long. 'Specially if you're gonna be makin' all those noises f'me"

"Joel. Do you think I care? You just gave me the best head of my life. What I need right now..." You pause as you slide further down the pillows to lay flat against the mattress, knees bent, wide open as he kneels between them "...Is your fat cock inside me. Got it?"

A sly smirk stretches across his lips, hearing you talk dirty is quickly becoming one of his favourite things. "Yes ma'am, I hear ya loud and clear".

With that he wastes no more time, notching himself at your entrance, slowly sinking into you. Both of you groan in unison and that's just from the first couple of inches. Joel's a big man. You don't need to see his cock to know that, not when you can feel the sweet sting and stretch, even if he had made you soaked enough that he could just thrust into you with one powerful jerk of his hips but he knows he'd risk cumming too fast and he doesn't want to hurt you. Fully aware that his size can be a challenge.

"Fuck darlin'... Look at you... Takin' me so good. That's not even all of me. Think you can take more?"

You nod dumbly and he takes this as his cue to kick things up a notch, grabbing your calves as he pushes your knees back until they're against your chest, practically folding you in half. The new angle allows him to feed the rest of his cock into you, hitting deep when he's fully sheathed.

His plush bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as his gaze is fixed between you, watching as he begins to move. Pulling back until he's almost all the way out before he plunges deep back in again. The slow drag of his cock over your g-spot has you gasping already. Over and over until he starts to pick up the pace.

Leaning down, your legs either side of his shoulders as his hands are planted firmly either side of you. You know you're both going to be feeling this tomorrow but right now you don't fucking care, this feels too good, he feels too good.

"Joel!" You whimper and sob under him, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this, the way his teeth are gritted together, the knot of his brow as he's focusing on not cumming yet. He's not being rough by any means but the slap of flesh on flesh is constant, fast, deep and hard. It's as if he knew that's how you liked it.

"I know sugar. Not yet. Need ya t'cum again f'me first. I know y'can. Can... Ohhh christ... Feel ya... Grippin' me like a fuckin' vice! Need ya t'cum f'me again." He's barely holding himself together, the way his voice is strained. He angles his hips a little more to the point where he knows that with every thrust you'll be feeling a grind against your poor sensitive clit. He knows it'll get you there faster.

You're so stretched out and folded right now that you feel like all the air in your lungs is being knocked out of you with every lunge of his hips. Your breaths coming out in short sharp gasps as your fingers blindly claw at the sheets, feeling so full of him to the point where it's almost overwhelming.

Every noise you're making drives him just that little bit closer but he wants nothing more than to feel you shatter around his cock first. He needs it and he gets it. With a strangled cry of his name your second orgasm hits you, saturating his cock with your release to the point where it's dripping down his thighs.

"Fuck... Fuck... Fuck."

He fucks you through it, just barely restraining himself from cumming inside you, as soon as the flutters stop, he pulls out, jerking his cock as few times until he's spilling out onto your stomach, coating your skin with his warm, sticking spend, groaning lowly as he does so.

When the tremors of post coital bliss begin to subside, that's when the leg cramp hits, he'd let go of one of your calves before but the other is still firmly in his grip, your knee is still pressing against your chest.

"Joel. Ah. Leg cramp, leg cramp" You tap his arm to get his attention, and he scrambles to let you go, carefully helping your knee to straighten back out.

"Sorry about that, Darlin' you okay?" He asks with a tender stroke of his thumb across your leg, finding the cramp he helps to massage it away.

"Yeah I'm okay" You huff out a little laugh "Not sure I'm built for positions like that for an extended period of time though, don't get me wrong, that was fucking amazing and we will be doing that again"

He let's go of your leg when he feels the tension ease, coming to lean down over you, giving you the gentlest, sweetest kiss ever before he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "Damn right we will sweetheart. Right now though? Need to get ya all cleaned up. Stay put."

He climbs out of bed, naked as the day he was born and you can't help but admire his back profile, broad shoulders flexing in the moonlight, dimples in his lower bsck and that ass. The one you'd been admiring in his jeans every time you'd been out on patrol together. It's even better in the flesh.

"You say that as if I have the energy to move right now anyway!" You call out and he grins over his shoulder at you, knowing he did that to you. Even at 57 years old, he can still give the younger guys a run for their money.

The rest of that night is spent sleeplessly, you're either talking and joking or you're back to exploring each other's bodies, finding what makes each other tick. It surprises you, the stamina that he does have but you're damn happy about it, most men would have fallen asleep and called it a night after round one. Not Joel Miller though.

By the time either of you actually bother to look at the clock it's nearly 4am. You'd both been so swept up in everything that you hadn't even realised how much the time had gotten away from you.

Both of you had collapsed into a sated, blissful heap together after you'd decided you just had to ride him. Your bodies are entangled in a sweaty, sticky sheen but neither of you cares right now.

"Best. Christmas. Ever" He gets out as he plants soft little kisses to your cheek, you can feel his heart thundering in his chest, just like yours is.

"Can say that again. Guess Christmas came early huh? Among other things." That last remark earns you a playful jab to your side, ellicitng a squeel from you.

"You tease but I didn't hear you complainin', in fact I remember you were all too happy not to waste a drop" You'd gone down on him soon after your first round the second he was able to get hard again, he'd been so sensitive from his first release that all it took was a few minutes before he was cumming down your throat.

"You got me there, Miller." You grin as you shift onto your front, laying at his side with your feet gently kicking back and forth in the air, admiring his handsome features. He smiles back at you, taking in your beautiful face bathed in the moonlight, fingers running up and down the curve of your spine. "Joel?"

"Yes darlin'?"

"Can I ask you something? It's... It's about something I noticed at the grotto."

His fingers still for a moment, tilting his head in curiosity about what you're going to ask. "Shoot. Ask away"

"I... Well you were so good with the kids today. It was really sweet but- there was this one little girl? I noticed you looked kind of sad?"

The look on his face makes you regret asking almost instantly, you recognise the pain there. That same pain he'd had earlier when briefly touching on someone else he'd lost, the same pain that you recognise reflecting back at you in the mirror sometimes.

"Its okay if you don't want to-"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head shallowly as he takes a moment to collect himself, opening them back up to look at you with a small sad smile. "No... No, S'okay. I can talk about it. There was a time when I couldn't but... I can now. And I want to tell you everything. I mean everything. Is that okay with you, sweetheart?"

You slide your hand across his chest to rest over his heart, feeling the comforting steady thrum of it beneath your fingertips. "Whatever you're willing to share Joel, then I'm happy to listen."

He trusts you. He really fucking likes you. Even before tonight he'd felt like he was falling for you but now he's sure he is.

And so he does. He tells you everything.

All of it. Sparing no details about Ellie and the fireflies, about her immunity and what happened in Salt Lake City.

About what he and Tommy used to do after the world collapsed.

About Tess and the complicated relationship they shared.

And about Sarah. His babygirl that he'd lost on day one.

It all then makes sense to you why he is the way that he is with Ellie and why he keeps his circle so small.

One year later

'Last Christmas, I gave you my heart but the very next day you gave it away.'

Whoever had convinced Tommy to get up on stage and sing Wham either needed a slap or they needed to be bought a drink, you couldn't decide.

It's Christmas Eve, this year Tommy and Maria had decided to host Karaoke night for the community, almost everyone was here, sitting around at the bar or at tables wincing every time Tommy tried to hit a high note.

You'd lost count how many times Joel had mumbled 'I fuckin' hate karaoke' under his breath beside you, looking like he wanted someone to put a bullet in him.

"So that's a no to getting up on stage with me hm?" You tease as you sip your drink through the little straw.

"Firm no."

"Oh c'mon not even Elton John and Kiki Dee!?" He shoots you a look that you know all too well by now, one that says, 'If you keep teasin' I'm going to ruin you the second we get home'. The heated glare has you weak at the knees, half tempted to keep prodding the bull but you don't get a chance.

Ellie and Dina come running over to your table to plop themselves in front of the two of you, all grins and wide excited eyes.

"What's got the two of you so worked up?" You ask with a suspicious chuckle.

Ellie twists her lips coyly "Nothing! Hey Joel you know that thing? It's ready."

"Oh that's cryptic. What thing? What's she talking about?" You turn to Joel with confusion etched on your face.

"Subtle Ellie, real subtle. Didn't I tell ya to work on that?"

It's then that Tommy finishes his song, finally and takes the mic in his hand, tapping it a few times to get everyone's attention, the feedback making some of the patrons groan.

"Alrighty folks, need y'all to get yer coats on now cos we've got one more special even planned for tonight, other than my wonderful singing that is."

The curious mumbles rise from the crowd, Joel is quick to pull you to stand, urging you to get your jacket on as the girls both dash back outside into the snow.

Everyone files out slowly, Joel keeps his hand firmly in yours as he pushes through the crowd with murmered sorrys and 'scuse me's. You have no idea what's going on right now or why Ellie and Dina smiling ear to ear just a few feet ahead.

With the crowd gathered, you and Joel at the very front, you feel his hand shaking in yours.

"Baby is everything okay, what's going o-"

Before you can even get your words out there's a small squeel and a fizz before a rocket goes flying into the air, your eyes following the noise, lighting up when you see the burst of colours against the night sky.

Fireworks in vivid shades of red, blues and greens in the distance, beyond the walls of Jackson.

Momentarily panicking that the noise might attract unwanted attention to the town, but it's over as quick as it began because out of the corner of your eye you see him, sinking down onto one knee, letting out a small groan that reveals his bones are older than he likes to pretend he is.

You gawp down at him with wide, unblinking eyes The whole town is now watching the two of you "Joel. What are you doing?"

"Whats it look like I'm doin'? And if you say no you'll be makin' me look like an ass in front of the entire town, you have any idea how long it took to get this fireworks thing rigged up far enough away so it doesn't cause a fuss?" He half chuckles as he digs a small box out of his pocket, saying your name slowly as he opens it to reveal a simple silver band with tiny little emeralds set into it.

The smallest of gasps leaves you, realising hes about to propose in front of the whole fucking town.

And then he says the words you've been longing to hear. "Will you marry me?"

Without missing a beat you give him his answer "Are you fucking kidding me!? Yes!" You sink to your knees in the snow, throwing your arms around him almost catching him off balance with an oof.

His free arm snakes around your waist holding you close to him as he buries his face in your neck.

You hear the whistles and cheers from the crowd but right now it all may as well be background noise because all you hear is his whispered words as he slips the ring onto your finger, it fits like a glove much to his joy. "I love you so fuckin' much, Merry Christmas baby."

Your eyes are glittering with unshed happy tears as you respond "Merry Christmas Joel."

You're going to spend the rest of your life with this man. This Christmas and every Christmas thereafter.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @cheekychaos28 @joelmillerisapunk @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @baronessvonglitter @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @kirsteng42

@ashleyfilm @redollface @supmlfevs @laprofesoratinacita

Thank you to everyone who interacts, reblogs, comments and reads, it means the world to me 💜

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winchesterwild78 · 25 days ago

Text

On the Ninth Day of Christmas

Master List

Characters: Beau Arlen x Reader, Cassie, Jenny

Warnings: fluff, SMUT (not too heavy), angst, language

A/N: Day 9 of my holiday fics. I hope you enjoy this short series. I’m really excited about it. All work is my own, please don’t take it. Reblogs and likes are welcomed.

I do not own the rights to the characters I use, these will not follow the story lines of the series the character appeared in. This is a work of fiction.

Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors.

This one got a little long, sorry.

Minors DNI 18+

Jenny Hoyt and I had been friends since elementary school. She was like a sister to me and we were with each other through all the ups and downs life threw at us.

When Cody was killed I was there for her, offering comfort and support. I trust her with my life, and not just because she’s a cop.

It was about two weeks until Christmas and Jenny wanted me to come by the Sheriff’s office this afternoon to grab some lunch and go shopping.

Jenny told me about the new interim Sheriff, Beau Arlen. I could tell by the way she talked about him that she liked him, so I was curious what this Texas boy looked like and if he was going to take care of her heart.

I arrived at the office a few minutes early, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I sat in Jenny’s office scrolling on my phone when I heard a knock on the door.

“Hey Hoyt, you got a second?” I looked up and saw the lightest green eyes I’d ever seen. My breath hitched.

“Oh sorry, I didn't realize there was someone in here.” He said as he offered a soft smile. I stood, eyes still locked on his, “It’s okay. I was just waiting for Jenny. I’m Y/N.” I extended my hand. He took it and shook my hand, “I’m Sheriff Beau Arlen, nice to meet you, darlin’.” His voice dripped with a southern drawl. My breathing quickened and I didn’t want to let go.

“So, Y/N, how do you know Hoyt?” He asked as we let go. “Oh she’s like a sister to me. We’ve been friends since elementary school.” He nodded and smiled.

A silence fell between us. Jenny stepped in the office breaking the silence, “Y/N! You’re here. Hey Beau, I see you’ve met Y/N.” He smiled, tipped his hat and said yes.

“You about ready to go, Y/N? Oh, Beau, did you need something?” “Nothing that can’t wait. I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice to meet you Y/N.” He touched my arm. “Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, Beau.”

About an hour later Jenny and I were shopping and my mind kept drifting back to Beau. I couldn’t help it. I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear Jenny when she asked my opinion on a gift. “Hey, Earth to Y/N.” “Oh, sorry. What did you say?” “Are you okay Y/N? You seem distracted.” I bit my lip. How could I admit I found her boss attractive, and I knew she liked him. I couldn’t do that to her.

“Yeah, just inside my head about some things.” “Are some of those things a certain green eyed, bow legged Sheriff?” I spin my head around, “What? No, of course not. Besides, I know you like him.”

Jenny stepped closer and touched my arm, “Oh honey, he’s good looking, but I don’t like him like that. Besides, I saw how he looked at you, he’s smitten.” I smiled. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“If you want to pursue him I would support it, and he better not break your heart or I’ll kick his ass.” I laughed, “We’ll see. What can you tell me about him?” “Let’s grab some lunch and I’ll tell you all about him.” I nodded, we paid for our purchases and went to the diner to grab some lunch.

We sat down and ordered our lunch. The diner filled with the lunch rush and the sound of holiday music filled the air. “So Beau moved here to be our interim Sheriff. His ex-wife Carla and their daughter, Emily moved here, so he moved to be closer to them. He loves his daughter and is amazing with her. He’s kind, and an amazing friend.” I nodded taking in everything she said. He seemed too good to be true.

“So how is his relationship with his ex-wife?” I was terrified of the answer, because I’d dated people with ex’s before and they weren’t completely over them.

“They get along. He doesn’t talk about her much, I just know they divorced and she’s remarried to a guy he doesn’t like.” I nodded and bit my lip.

Jenny’s phone rang and I could tell it was work. When she hung up she apologized and said she had to get back. We got our food to go and she drove us to the Sheriff’s office.

We stood in the parking lot saying our goodbyes when I looked up and saw Beau approaching. I offered him a soft smile. “Hey Hoyt, sorry to pull you back in, but I needed backup. Y/N, I’m sorry I had to take her away from you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He stepped closer and my breath hitched.

“Oh, it’s okay. We were pretty much done anyway. Y’all be careful. Jenny, call me later.” We exchanged a hug and her and Beau climbed in her truck and pulled out.

A few hours later I got a text from Jenny.

Jenny: Hey, I hope you don’t mind but I gave Beau your number. He insisted on making it up to you for him crashing our afternoon.

Me: It’s fine. Please tell him he really doesn’t need to.

Jenny: I did, but he’s stubborn. Sounds like someone else I know. 😂

Me: Funny. I can think of someone just as stubborn.

Jenny: True, but you are more stubborn.

Me: Fine. But seriously, I don’t want to overstep with him.

Jenny: Girl, if he asks you out, jump on that. He’s not been on any dates since he’s been here.

Me: Okay, if you’re sure.

Jenny: Yes! But when y’all get married I better be the maid of honor.

I laughed out loud.

Me: Deal! Love you!

Jenny: Love you too!

I sat on my couch reading a book when there was a soft knock on my door. I looked at the time and it was about 7pm. I looked through the peephole and my breath caught in my throat. It was Beau. I took a steady breath, bit my lower lip and opened the door.

Our eyes met and he smiled. I instantly got weak in the knees. “Beau?” He grinned, “Hey, sweetheart. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by.” “Oh, no, come on in.” I stepped to the side and let him in.

He walked into the living room and looked around. “Nice place you’ve got here.” “Thank you.” He held up a bag, “I hope you don’t mind. I asked Hoyt what your favorite food was and I brought it over as a peace offering.”

I looked confused, “A peace offering, what for?” “For taking Hoyt this afternoon.” I smirked, “Beau, I told you it was fine. You needed her back at work. I understand.”

“Well, still I wanted to bring you something to eat.” “Thank you, you can put it here.” I motioned to the kitchen counter. Beau started to take out the containers and I smiled as I smelled my favorite meal from the chinese restaurant.

I grabbed some plates and silverware, “Can I offer you anything to drink? I have water, soda, beer and wine.” “Beer sounds great, thank you.”

I walked to the refrigerator and grabbed him a beer and me a bottle of water. As I turned around I noticed he looked away quickly. Was he checking me out? My cheeks flushed red.

We sat on the couch and ate while a Christmas movie played on tv. Neither one of us was really paying attention. “Thanks again for this, Beau. It’s really hitting the spot.” He nodded, “Yeah, it is pretty good. Glad you like it.” He smiled.

“So, Y/N, tell me about yourself. Married, Boyfriend, Girlfriend, kids?” “No to all of the above.” I laughed. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m single, I’ve been that way for a few years now. I was engaged, it didn’t work out. He decided a week before the wedding he was still in love with his ex. I found out when I found them in our bed together. Jenny is like a sister to me, and annoys me just like one. Tell me about yourself, Beau.”

“Well, I’m new here. My ex, Carla is here and so is my daughter, Emily. We share custody, and she’s got me wrapped around her finger. Em definitely keeps me in check too. She’s got a fire in her that I pray won’t go away.”

He sighed and smiled. I noticed how his eyes filled with love when he talked about his daughter. I couldn’t help it but I touched his hand, “She sounds amazing, Beau. I hope I get to meet her one day.”

The rest of the night we talked, stolen glances and light touches were exchanged. Every time his calloused fingers brushed against my skin it sent a shiver through me.

Beau noticed the time, it was after midnight, “Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s late. I should let you get some sleep.” My heart sank a little. I really didn’t want him to leave.

“Okay, yeah it is kinda late. I’m sure you have to get up early yourself.” He nodded, “Yeah, but I…” He cut himself off. His eyes flicked to mine and then down to my lips.

I licked them and pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. My hair had fallen into my face. Beau lifted his hand and tucked the stray piece of hair behind my ear. His thumb brushed against my cheek.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” I leaned into his touch. He stepped closer, and I moved closer. The distance between us is getting smaller. My chest rising and falling faster and my heart beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears.

We were leaning into each other, our lips mere inches apart. “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” His voice whispered. “Yes” my voice is barely audible. His lips pressed softly to mine. The kiss was soft and tender. Not rushed and not hard.

The world around us seemed to disappear. His hands softly slid up my neck and into my hair as he deepened the kiss. We pulled apart as the need for air became too much. I blushed and he smirked.

My lips were on fire. I’d never felt a kiss like that before. I could kiss him all day long. “Wow.” Was all he said at first. I smiled, “Yeah, wow.”

“Well now I don’t want to leave.” He said with a grin. “I know what you mean, but we can see each other tomorrow if you want.”

He touched my face, “I’d like that very much.” “Me too.” Beau pulled me into his arms and hugged me, placing a soft kiss on the side of my head. “Good night, Y/N.” “Good night, Beau.”

The next few weeks Beau and I saw each other as often as we could. Our relationship was getting stronger. I’d met Emily, and she was just as sweet as Beau had described. I even met Carla. I was nervous, but she was nice and accepting of our relationship.

It was Christmas Eve night and Beau was coming over so we could exchange our gifts and spend some time together. He was spending Christmas with Emily and I felt like I should let them have their time together. Beau was appreciative.

When Beau got to my house he was greeted with a candle lit dinner and a home cooked meal. I had gotten off work early, so I wanted to surprise him. After dinner and dessert, we settled on the couch.

I was so excited to give him his present. “So Beau, are you ready for your gift?” I bit my lip, I was so nervous. He smiled and nodded.

I handed him a small box. He opened it and looked confused. “What’s this?” “It’s a key for you. I want you to feel like this is home too.” He smiled, “I love it, Y/N.” “There’s something else I wanted to give you, but I wasn’t sure how to wrap it.”

“Okay, want me to close my eyes?” He smirked. I nodded. He closed his eyes and I got his present ready. I took a deep breath, “Okay, open your eyes.”

When he opened his eyes I was standing in front of him in a sheer red nightgown that had white fur around the top and bottom. It looked almost like a Santa suit. His eyes went wide, “Damn sweetheart, look at you. C’mere.” He pulled me close to him and down on his lap.

I straddled his lap as he started to kiss me up and down. His hands running on my body. My thighs were on either side of him and I grinded down onto his strained erection. Pulling a moan from his lips.

I started kissing him and things were heating up. He had a full on erection and my panties were soaked. His hands pulled my hips down onto him. I moaned as my sensitive clit came in contact with his bulge.

Our lips still connected to each other and our hands explored each other’s bodies. “Are you sure, darlin’?” “Yes, Beau. I want you.” “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” He purred.

I stood and helped him up, he grabbed my waist and pulled me back in flush to his body, his lips landing on mine again.

Hand in hand we went to the bedroom. Beau removed his clothes and I watched in awe. This man was stunning and his body was perfect. My thighs clenched together and I felt myself get wetter.

I laid back to the pillows on the bed and Beau climbed between my legs. His fingers hooked my panties and pulled them down. He kissed up my thighs and I squirmed.

Beau’s mouth ghosted my dripping wet core and I moaned. I felt him smirk as he used his skilled tongue and fingers to make me cum, three times. By the time he was finished my legs were like jello and I felt amazing.

He removed his boxers, put on a condom and asked again if I was sure. I nodded and told him I was.

As he pushed in, my walls clenched. His long, thick length stretched me in ways I’d never felt and damn did I want more. As he bottomed out we both moaned. He stilled before he continued.

Each thrust, each touch sent electricity through my body. His name falling from my lips like a prayer. I wrapped my legs around his waist and moved my body, “Oh Beau, you feel so good. Don’t stop.” My hands on his strong shoulders helping ground me in the moment.

Beau’s hips snapping into mine, he kissed my lips and moaned. “Oh Carla, you feel incredible.”

My eyes shot open and my legs fell. “What?!” I tried to wiggle out from under him. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I have no idea why I said that. Fuck! I didn’t mean it, I swear I wasn’t thinking about her.”

I grabbed the blanket as he moved off of me. Tears stung my eyes. “Beau, I think you should leave.”

“Y/N, baby, please. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I called her name out.” I shook my head, “I do. Beau please go.” The tears started to fall as I pulled the blanket around me like a secure hug.

Beau got off the bed, let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

I turned my back to him, I couldn’t look at him. My heart was broken. Another man I gave my heart to and he was still stuck on his ex. A lump formed in my throat. I had fallen in love with Beau, and of course he would break my heart.

Beau got dressed, stopped at the bedroom door and said, “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I love you.”

I let out an audible sob. The first time he says I love you and it’s right after he breaks my fucking heart. As soon as I heard the front door I let out all the tears I had been holding back.

Hours later the tears had stopped. Mostly because I didn’t have any left. My eyes and head hurt, and my heart was broken. Exhaustion finally took over my body and I drifted off to a restless sleep.

Beau arrived home completely defeated and angry at himself. He had no idea why he called Carla’s name out. He wasn’t thinking about her and he was in love with me.

He sent Hoyt a text.

Beau: Hey when you get this can you call me. I fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it.

Hoyt: give me a minute

A few minutes later his phone rang. “Hoyt I fucked up bad. She’s never going to forgive me.” “Calm down Arlen, what happened?” Jenny asked as she tried to get him to calm down.

“We were having a great time and one thing led to another. It was amazing and in the middle of it I called out Carla’s name. I swear I wasn’t thinking about her. I don’t know why I did it. She made me leave and wouldn’t look at me. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Damn, Beau. I’m not sure if you can fix this. She went through this with her ex fiancée and found him in bed with his ex right before the wedding. You need to give her some time. I’ll talk to her and see what I can do. She’s going to need some space tonight.”

Beau let out a frustrated sigh. He was so angry at himself. He couldn’t believe he did that to you and the look in your eyes haunted his mind.

“Thanks Jenny. Please let me know what I can do to make this right.”

They exchanged their goodbyes and hung up.

Jenny sent me a text.

Jenny: Hey sweetie. He called me and told me what happened. When you’re ready I’m here. I love you.

I was asleep when the message came in so I didn’t see it right away.

Christmas morning came and I pulled the blanket over my head. I really couldn’t face anyone today.

I grabbed my phone and my heart kinda sank when I didn’t see a text from Beau. Of course I really shouldn’t expect one. I saw the message from Jenny. I can’t face her either. So I sent her a text.

Me: Yeah. I’m not ready to talk. I love you too, Merry Christmas.

Jenny: Merry Christmas, sweetie. I understand. Will I see you later?

Me: I don’t know. Honestly right now I’m probably going to say no.

Jenny: I understand sweetie. For what it’s worth he’s really upset about it. He called me last night and told me how he fucked up.

Me: He really did. Jenny I’m falling for him and in the middle of sex he called me his ex’s name. Then told me he loved me before he left. How do I process that?

Jenny: He told you he loved you?

Me: yes, before he left.

Jenny: Oh honey. We will figure it out. I’m not going to push, but you should come over for a little bit today.

Me: I promise I’ll think about it. Right now I want to be alone.

Beau got up and looked at his phone. His finger was hovering over my name. He wanted to send me a message but didn’t know what to do. Emily had sent him a message and told her she was excited about today. Beau knew he was going to have to fake happiness for her sake.

He was happy he got to spend time with her, but his mind kept replaying last night. His heart ached. He was in love and he just fucked it up.

Jenny: Hey Beau. I’m not sure what to tell you except she said you told her you loved her. She said she loves you too. Reach out to her and just lay it all out there. I’d suggest a text and see if she’s willing to talk on the phone. If not then figure it out. Make her listen. She can be stubborn especially when she’s been hurt.

Beau: Okay. Thanks Hoyt. I’ll try.

Beau took a deep breath and let it out. Then he sent a text.

Y/N: Hey. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I just want to talk. If you don’t want to talk on the phone I’m okay with texting. I’m leaving it up to you. I know I fucked this up and you have every right to be pissed. I just want you to talk to me.

I looked at the text that came in. My heart cracked more. I know he was in pain, but he called her name out when he was with me. I don’t know what to do. Did I want to hear his voice or just make him text me?

I ran my fingers through my hair. “Fuck!” I let out a long sigh.

My finger hovered over his name. I pushed it and the line started ringing.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said when he answered the phone. “Hey Beau.”

“Thank you for calling me. I can’t believe you did, but I’m so happy. Baby I don’t know where to begin.”

“Beau, are you still in love with Carla?” “No, absolutely not. I’m in love with you. I’ll always care about her because she’s Emily’s mother, but I’m not in love with her. She’s the last woman I had been with before you. Maybe it was a habit, but I swear I wasn’t thinking about her at all. I don’t have an excuse for it, but I swear if you give me another chance to be in your life I’ll never do that again.”

“Beau, you really hurt me. You broke my heart. It brought back all that pain from my ex. He swore he loved me, we were about to get married and I caught him in bed with the ex he said he didn’t care about. I can’t, no I won’t go through that again. I deserve better than to be a second choice.”

“I swear, Y/N you’re not nor will you ever be a second choice to me. I’d choose you over and over again. I love you.”

Tears started to fall. I was terrified to let him in again, but I loved him. “Baby, please don’t cry. I’m so sorry.” I could hear his voice crack. I know he was on the verge of crying too.

“Beau, I don’t know what to say. Let’s talk about it more tomorrow. I don’t want you to be late to see Em. She deserves your undivided attention. I love you, Beau.”

“Oh sweetheart, I love you. Maybe I can come by later, if you want me to and we can talk.” “I’d love that Beau. Please give Emily my love and tell her Merry Christmas for me.” “I will, and thank you for at least talking to me. I’ll come by later.” “Okay, Beau.”

We hung up and I felt a little better. I jumped in the shower and when I got out I heard a knock on the front door. I grabbed my robe and put it on. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I suspected it was Jenny coming to drag me to her house.

I looked through the peephole and gasped. Opening the door standing with flowers in hand was Beau. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.” He handed me a beautiful bouquet.

I smiled and stepped to the side letting him in. “Beau, what are you doing here? You’re going to be late seeing Emily.” “No, I was there and she asked where you were. I told her we got into a disagreement and she told me not to come back until I fixed us because she loved you so much.”

I smiled, “I love her too. She’s such a sweetheart.” “I told her it was all my fault and she read me the riot act. Carla even got in on it and told me not to come back without you. I hope you don’t mind, but I shared with Carla what happened. She called me a dumbass and told me to fix it.”

I gasped softly, “Beau. I know you’re not my ex, and you didn’t do it on purpose. I love you so much. I’m sorry I made you leave.” I threw my arms around him.

He pulled me tight and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “God I love you. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

“You better not, Beau Arlen. Because I’m not the only one who would kick your butt.” We both chuckled.

“Now, about Christmas dinner. If I show back up to Carla’s without you she’s going to kill me. Please come with me. They both want you there, I want you there.”

“Okay, I’ll go as long as you promise me something.” “Anything, sweetheart.” “When we leave we come back here and reopen your Christmas present.” “Are you sure, Y/N?”

I stepped closer, lips ghosting his, “Yes”. Then I kissed him. He pulled me into the kiss deeper and the kiss turned passionate. We finally pulled away, “Merry Christmas, Beau.” “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

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